> In Love and War
>  by The Fool
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Chapter I
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Cassius awoke, his first thought was that he hadn't been asleep. He looked around the rocky tunnel as if seeing it for the first time. His thoughts struck him as odd, not because this was the same tunnel he'd been down every day since he'd been old enough to mine coal, but because they were his own.

"Mother?" he thought. There was no response. For changelings to break off from the hive and start thinking for themselves wasn't unheard of. It was why Chrysalis had given him his assignment in the first place—his assignment.

"Mother!" he cried. "Not now! Please!" He fell on his haunches and clenched his eyes to stem the flow of tears. It didn't stop.

His brothers and sisters were coming to a similar realization somewhere nearby, but at that moment, he had no one to keep him company but his thoughts. Chrysalis had told him the ability to think and feel for himself was a wonderful gift, one she hoped they would all have someday. He felt hollow.

"This isn't a gift," he whispered. His disgust grew in time with the number of his thoughts clouding his head. Scowling, he whirled around and spotted an outcrop on the side of the tunnel.

"This! Is! Not! A! Gift!" he shouted, punctuating each word with a smash of his head against the rock. He staggered and hit the ground in a heap. His vision blurred. As he looked toward the blue-green glow at the end of the tunnel, he thought he saw Chrysalis looking back.

Staring up into Chrysalis's emerald eyes, he whined, "It's my head, Mother. There's something wrong with my head."

Chrysalis nodded and closed her eyes just as before. Her horn bathed him in a faint green light followed by a blinding flash. "You just had a minor concussion, dear," she said, opening her eyes, "but I took care of it."

"No, that's not it. I keep hearing a strange voice in my head. Only it's not strange. It's my voice, but what's it doing in my head?"

Chrysalis smiled. "Can't you hear my voice?"

Cassius had smiled at the time, but he could only cry as he said the words that were no longer true. "I can always hear your voice."

Chrysalis sat beside him. "The ability to hear your own voice is a wonderful gift."

"How?"

"It marks you as a leader." Chrysalis looked off into the distance, her smile fading. "I won't always be around to care for you and the others."

Cassius looked at her, eyes pleading. "Don't say that, Mother."

Chrysalis draped her foreleg over his withers. "We don't have to talk about it right now, but know that when that time comes, the others will need someone to care for them until they're ready to care for themselves."

"I don't want to hear my own voice. Please don't make me."

Sighing, Chrysalis faded away as her horn lit up for one more spell. "If you really don't want to, I won't make you, not until the time comes..."

"When I need to," Cassius finished. He rose to his hooves.
> Chapter II
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

"I know these are trying times, but we have to hold together!" Cassius called. His voice echoed off the cavern's rough granite walls.

The others ignored him. As they swarmed around in a frenzy, the luminous fungus that clung to the ceiling made their chitinous hides shine like drops of mercury. Those who lacked the presence of mind to fly galloped in zigzags across the floor.

Having a radius the length of several city blocks, to use a pony measurement, the auditorium was the largest chamber in the hive. The fading light toward the edges gave Cassius the feeling of standing on one of the surface world's endless deserts. The far-off ceiling was like a turquoise sky interwoven with wispy black clouds, but with the entire hive crammed in under it, the lack of collisions was a small miracle.

"Nothing good will come of panic and indecision. If you want to live, you'll listen to what I have to say!"

Had the others heard Cassius, they gave no sign.

Cassius sighed.

Chrysalis never had trouble getting the others' attention. Cassius didn't want to acknowledge the painful truth that he'd never see her again, no one did, but after the collective consciousness splintered apart, there was no doubt in anyone's mind. Not that he could confirm that. She'd told him to take care of the others if she didn't come back from Canterlot, but he couldn't do that unless they sat still long enough to hear him out. He forced down the lump in his throat and tried again, "Be still, dammit!"

Cassius's voice boomed through the auditorium and the tunnels beyond. Numerous pairs of changelings plowed into each other, though the majority remained airborne. Those on the ground stopped in their tracks and looked to the raised mound at the center of the room where the noise had come from. Each set of wide, glassy eyes twisted the dagger in his heart.

"I know Chrysalis, our beloved queen, seems to have left us when we need her the most, but I'll tell you this: we may not share the same thoughts anymore, but we're still changelings! Nothing is ever going to change that. If we stick together, like we always have, we're bound to come out of this for the better."

The others remained tense, but Cassius had their attention.

Before he could continue, a youthful, feminine voice rang out from the darkness. "You seem eager to forget that Mother has always been there for us. She may be gone, but neither you nor any other will ever replace her."

It sounded familiar, but Cassius couldn't put a face to it. "Step forth, Sister. Let us see eye to eye."

As the crowd parted, a lone changeling stepped into the light. She was a slender thing, about a head taller than the others.

Cassius sized her up. His gaze traced her long legs before meeting her eyes.

The changeling had been crying, that much was certain, but the glare she gave him told another story. Ponies had myriad expressions for their emotions, but such things were alien to see juxtaposed on an undisguised changeling.

Cassius realized he'd been staring and looked aside. "Aurelia, I'm glad you could join us."

"Cassius," Aurelia said.

Chrysalis wasn't known for playing favorites, but for some reason Cassius could scarcely fathom, she'd made an exception for Aurelia. Chrysalis had even given her a name. When not in character, most changelings referred to each other as "Brother" or "Sister." To be fair, he had a name too, but Chrysalis gave it to him for a specific reason: the others needed to know what to call their new leader.

"Mother might not have told you," Cassius said, "but she gave me a job before she left. 'If worse comes to worst,' she said, 'I want you to care for the others until they're ready to care for themselves.'"

Aurelia stepped onto the mound. Her muzzle was barely a hoof's length away. "She did tell me, actually. Do you know what else she told me?"

Cassius felt a blush coming on and turned away. If she saw, she'd never let him live it down. "What?"

"She told me you wouldn't have a clue what she was talking about and I would have to make sure you didn't do anything stupid."

"Those were her exact words."

Aurelia began circling Cassius as if he were prey. "More or less."

Cassius took a deep breath and turned to face her. "Why should I believe you?"

Aurelia put her foreleg over his withers and made a sweeping gesture to the others before turning to him with a winning smile that brandished her petite fangs. "Why should your brothers and sisters believe you?"

Something else pierced Cassius's heart. "Because I have a plan."

"All right, I'll humor you." Aurelia winked. "What's this plan of yours?"

Cassius forced his most confident grin. "We're going to war."

Aurelia half smirked but said nothing.

"No objections, then?"

Aurelia stepped back. "Wait, you're being serious?"

"Completely."

Aurelia laughed.

Revenge was the clearest, most rational desire to ever cross Cassius's mind of his own volition, and she was laughing. "Is there something funny about my plan?"

"What isn't funny about your plan?"

Cassius turned, walked to the opposite end of the mound, and studied the cold, rocky soil beneath his eroded hooves. He needed a drink, but that was a luxury he couldn't afford. The others needed direction, and he wasn't about to let Aurelia stop him from giving it to them. When he spoke, his eyes stayed fixed to the ground. "I thought you were here to help."

"I'm helping."

Cassius turned his head to stare at Aurelia. "How?"

Aurelia smiled innocently. "By telling you that your plan is stupid."

"What makes you say that?"

"Nothing. That's why your plan is stupid."

Cassius turned the rest of his body. His brow furrowed. "I don't follow."

"There's nothing making me say or do anything, nor is there anything making our brothers and sisters follow you to the grave."

Cassius gave the others an apologetic look; he'd almost forgotten they were there. "There's nothing making them listen to you, either."

"Why don't we ask them?"

"My thoughts exactly." Cassius looked around the room, making eye contact with each changeling he saw.

Some were shifting their posture; others were flitting their wings.

Whether their actions were signs of anxiety, impatience, or both, Cassius couldn't tell. "What do you say, my brothers and sisters?" he asked. "Will you follow me into glorious battle against the pony hordes to avenge the loss of our beloved queen?"

Aurelia started cracking up and leaned on him for support.

Cassius closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and imagined a dragon swooping down from the sky to carry her away as he willed his face to display all the fake confidence he could muster. "Or will you listen to this harlot, forsaking your duty to kin and country in favor of whatever absurdity she has in mind?"

The others erupted into a cacophony of chanting that echoed throughout the auditorium. "We want justice! We want war!"

Cassius flashed his prominent fangs as he beamed at Aurelia. "Well, Aurelia, I believe the hive has spoken."

Aurelia sighed and shook her head but made no further objection. Right or wrong, she had no business telling the others what to do. She only hoped they would realize their mistake in the weeks to come.


***


The six mares that bore the Elements of Harmony were seldom recognized outside their hometown of Ponyville. Most ponies were too busy worrying about where their next meal would come from to care about the mares who'd saved Equestria from both Nightmare Moon and Discord. That changed when the changelings invaded during a royal wedding, sparking the first armed conflict in almost a thousand years.

Once again, Equestria needed hope. For this reason, a private carriage flanked by a squadron of pegasus pony guards had just touched down in front of Canterlot Castle. The carriage had been flying all night; the morning sun was taking its first glimpse over the horizon.

A unicorn mare was the first to step off. She squinted, surveying the area for anything suspicious. Finding nothing, she set off toward the castle.

A young dragon lurched after her. Struggling to balance the tower of books that obstructed his vision, he tripped. The books raining down around him drove his face into the polished marble walkway.

The unicorn frowned. Her horn radiated purple magic as she dragged him to his feet. "Come on, Spike. We don't have time for this!"

"Why did we have to bring all these books, anyway?" Spike asked, pulling an open encyclopedia of mythical creatures off his head and massaging his snout. "Last I checked, the castle was home to the largest library in Equestria. I don't think much has changed in the past two years."

The unicorn smiled broadly and glanced at the books. "Yeah, about that. You see—"

"Twilight, look out!" Spike pointed a claw behind her.

Twilight spun around. Her ears drooped and her irises shrunk as she took in the image of an earth pony stallion charging toward her.

A shimmer appeared around the stallion's forehead and spread across his body, revealing the crooked horn and sneering visage of a changeling. The changeling roared in a twisted mockery of the Royal Canterlot Voice, "For the hive!"

Twilight's mind screamed, "Run!"

The changeling was faster.

Twilight hit the cold stone path with a crunch. Pain shot through her side as a pair of hooves rolled her onto her back and pinned her legs to the ground. She was too stunned to resist. She saw the guards springing into action. They were too late. Staring pleadingly into the changeling's expressionless eyes, she whimpered.

The changeling lowered his head to the base of her neck, bared his dripping fangs, and sunk them into the soft flesh beneath her lavender coat. Blood flowed from the puncture wounds.

Twilight tried to cry out, but his venom made her body go limp. The world faded away.


***


"So this is what death feels like," Twilight said. "Shouldn't there be a light I'm supposed to follow, or maybe a reaper pony to guide me to the afterlife?"

Looking around, she sighed. There was nothing but blackness. "Maybe I'm in hell."

She sniffed the air, expecting more nothingness. Instead, a distinct smell reached her nostrils—cleaning chemicals. "At least it's not the fire and brimstone variety."

Her hearing started to return. The quiet hum of fluorescent lights came with it, though the darkness remained absolute. "Maybe hell is a hospital waiting room."

"Giggle at the ghostly," as Pinkie would say.

Twilight tried to laugh, but any mirth she felt vanished at the thought of her friends: Rarity, Rainbow Dash, Fluttershy, Applejack, and Pinkie Pie. Twilight would never see them again. She'd never see anypony again.

"Oh Celestia." All the times she'd been inconsiderate or neglectful, all the times she'd been hurtful, came flooding back. The onslaught was more than she could bear.

She didn't have to; a stallion's voice pierced the void, "I have to see her. She's my sister, for Celestia's sake!"

Tired and raspy as the voice was, Twilight would recognize it even in the darkest depths of Tartarus. She hoped she'd never have to.

"I don't care if you're the Princesses' nephew, Sir. Ms. Sparkle needs her rest," another voice said. It was probably a nurse's, but it echoed as if a second voice was buried underneath.

"Unless you want me to take that thermometer and—"

"Shining," Twilight whispered, "is that you?" She lay on her side in a cushioned hospital bed, motionless save for the quiver of her lips. A cotton blanket covered her to the base of her neck, which was wrapped in blood-soaked gauze. A silk blindfold shielded her eyes from the light.

Shining rushed to her side and pulled off the blindfold.

To her credit, the nurse didn't press the issue.

"I'm here, Twilie," Shining said.

Twilight clamped her eyes shut at the sudden glare of artificial light. When she opened them, the first thing that came into focus was her big brother standing by her side.

Shining's alabaster coat and electric-blue mane were obscured by the gold-trimmed-purple plate armor that marked Shining as the Captain of Celestia's Royal Guard. His eyes watered as he laid his neck over hers in a warm, gentle embrace. "I'm sorry I wasn't there when you needed me," he said. "I promise you nothing like this will ever happen again."

Twilight pulled away to look at him, eyebrow arched. "What do you mean?"

"There's no time to explain; I'm already behind schedule. The doctor said you'd be fine, but I had to see for myself before I left." Shining brushed her pink-striped-indigo mane and smiled. "Maybe we can spend some quality time together once this is over." He turned and started toward the door.

"You can't even tell me where you're going?"

Shining stopped. When he turned to face her, he didn't look at her so much as stare right through her. "I'm going to put an end to this."

Shivering like an ice cube was melting down her spine, Twilight wondered what he saw. It couldn't have been good if his determined frown was any indication.

"The changelings took my wife, and now they've tried to take you." Shining's voice became low and threatening. "They've attacked us in our own capital twice, Twilight. They won't get a third chance." Shining left without waiting for a response.

Though her eyes stung, Twilight refused to cry, electing to stare at the wall instead. "I have to be strong," she muttered. "This is just a minor setback. Equestria needs me; Celestia needs me. I don't know what she expects, but I'm not about to abandon a friend in need. A little blood loss isn't going to keep Twilight Sparkle down." She tried to stand, but her balance was off and she fell back into the bed. "Metaphorically speaking."

Other thoughts came and went as she studied the floral wallpaper. Spike's scaly arms wrapping around her withers interrupted her brooding, accompanied by a cry of, "Twilight, you're okay!"

Twilight turned her head to return the hug and winced.

Spike let go quicker than she would have liked. "Sorry," he said. "I should have figured the wound would still be raw, but I was so worried... That changeling tried to kill you right in front of me. I thought..."

Twilight put her foreleg around his shoulders and held him close. More pain lanced through her, but she hid it. She knew what to expect this time. This was neither the time nor the place for honesty—even Applejack would have to agree. "Shh... I'll be fine. The doctor said so. Besides, the pain isn't even that bad."

When Twilight looked up, she saw the regal figure of Princess Celestia standing in the doorway. "Oh! Forgive me, Princess. I hope you haven't been waiting long."

Celestia must have come in with Spike. The flowing aurora of her mane looked dimmer than usual, but she wore the practiced, unreadable expression of a seasoned diplomat. "No, Twilight. If anything, I should be asking your forgiveness. You wouldn't be laying in a hospital bed if I hadn't called you here." She shook her head. "I only hope Shining Armor knows what he's doing."

Twilight had been caressing the row of green spines that ran along Spike's back, but Celestia's last few words made her pause. "I spoke with him before you two arrived. He said he would make sure the changelings never attacked us again, but he wouldn't tell me how."

"I gave him an assignment." Celestia searched Twilight's eyes. "Promise me you won't think any less of your brother after hearing what I'm about to tell you. If you blame anyone, blame me."

"Why? What's he going to do?"

"Promise me."

Twilight searched Celestia's face for answers. None were forthcoming. "Okay... I promise."

Celestia walked to the hospital window. It was a stark contrast to the stained glass that adorned the public parts of the castle, but thanks to the ever-vigilant pegasus ponies' efforts to keep the sky clear, the view more than made up for the lack of artistry.

She kept her expression neutral as she took in the scenery. Her sun was setting in the west. Ponyville, Cloudsdale, and several other major cities dotted the landscape, but her focus was further south. The jagged orange peaks and canyons of the Badlands, where the dragons would rest during their next migration, cut up the horizon, marking the edge of her territory.

According to her scouts, the hive lay somewhere within an impenetrable fog that brushed midway up the other side of the mountain range and covered everything as far as the eye could see in a gray abyss. Magical scans of the area showed a marshy wasteland filled with alien vegetation and rocky outcrops but no sign of the changelings. Sending an army would be like pitting a three-legged cat against an invisible diamond dog, but a single soldier might be able to find an entrance and sneak in undetected. She hated playing with ponies' lives.

She took a long, deep breath. When she spoke, she didn't make eye contact. "After the changeling attacked you, the guards took him into custody. Shining Armor presided over the interrogation. He discovered that the changelings are no longer under the control of their queen, Chrysalis."

Her expression faltered, but whatever broke through vanished a second later. "They've elected a Legate, Cassius, to lead their offensive. When pressed as to why this change took place, the changeling answered by bashing his carapace into the cell door. By the time a nurse could be called, he had already bled to death."

Twilight tried to push the image to the back of her mind and look at the situation logically, but she couldn't help wondering if Shining got any blood on his hooves. "I don't see how Shining could be at fault. He couldn't have known the changeling would kill himself."

"When he came to me to present his findings, he proposed an expedition into changeling territory. He wanted a writ for the assassination of Legate Cassius. I gave it to him."

"What the hell, Princess?" Twilight wanted to shout, but the scratchiness in her throat wouldn't let her.

Celestia kept her distance as she turned to look Twilight in the eye. "'All's fair in love and war,' as the saying goes."

"Are you that heartless, or did the thought of negotiation never cross your mind?" Spike asked.

Celestia cringed. His words cut deeper than he knew. The millenniums she spent as Equestria's monarch had prepared her for moments like this, but she was tired of hiding behind her stoic facade. She wanted to wrap her wings around Twilight and tell her everything was going to be all right, but it wouldn't. Not for a long time. "Please don't call me that, Spike. I only try to do what's best for my subjects. The time for diplomacy ended when Chrysalis invaded my city during a royal wedding, foalnapped my niece, and tried to steal Equestria out from under my hooves."

"You let yourself be captured when you could have squashed her like a bug," Twilight said, "but now you're trying to justify sending my brother off to murder somepony you've never met."

Celestia went pale, though her milky coat made the effect nigh unnoticeable

"Why?"

"You have no business asking me a question like that, nor do you have any business telling me how to run my country." Celestia began toward the door. Letting her emotions go unchecked had made them hard to reign in. She felt childish for ending the argument like this, but she knew Twilight was in no condition to follow.

"What about Princess Luna? Doesn't she have any say in this?"

Celestia was halfway out the door when she stopped and looked over her shoulder. The one eye that wasn't obscured by her mane began to glisten. "I haven't talked to her about it, but my sister knows as well as I do that doing the right thing isn't always possible." Tears matted the fur running down her cheek, but she kept her gaze fixed on Twilight. "Don't think for a minute that I don't wish I could go back and do things differently. Sometimes being a ruler means making sacrifices. I can't always follow my heart."

Twilight was speechless. In all the years they'd known each other, she'd never seen Celestia cry. Celestia even treated Luna's banishment with academic stoicism. Granted, that was a thousand years ago.

"Why don't you just call off the attack?" Spike asked.

Celestia took a moment to compose herself. "I'm done talking about this. I had hoped to put the two of you to work at the Office of Wartime Intelligence, but I should have known better than to expect the bearer of an Element of Harmony to understand what needs to be done." Her voice took on an echo of its usual compassion. "I'll arrange for a carriage to take you back to Ponyville when you're ready to be released from the hospital, as well as a regiment of royal guards to supplement your local militia. Whether or not Shining Armor is successful, I refuse to see you harmed because of this senseless conflict."

Twilight watched the last wisp of Celestia's tail disappear around the door frame before glancing at Spike, who was staring into space as if deep in thought. 

Sensing Twilight's gaze, Spike looked back.

"I suppose now you're going to abandon me too," Twilight said.

Spike wrapped his arms around her.

Twilight laid her head over his shoulder and watched through half-lidded eyes as the cotton bedding became saturated with saline fluid. Exhaustion soon claimed her and she fell into a fitful sleep.

The setting sun cast long shadows on the far wall. Luna's moon would soon grace the sky, but for the moment there was just enough light to see by.

Spike pressed his claw against Twilight's ribs and waited for her slow, shallow breathing to steady before carefully pulling himself out of her grip.

"I'm not abandoning you. I just need to set things right," he whispered into Twilight's ear. "They may not think we can do what needs to be done, but there's one thing I can do that they can't."

Rifling through the storage cabinets, he found the things he would need with ease. He popped the bottle of ink open with his teeth, dipped the quill, and began scratching words onto the parchment.

"Dear Legate Cassius:" he wrote. "I've recently been made aware that a writ for your assassination has been granted to one Shining Armor, a unicorn stallion in service to Princess Celestia. I only hope this letter will give you enough forewarning to take whatever precautions you deem necessary."

Twilight groaned.

Spike's eyes darted to the bed. Seeing that she was just turning over in her sleep, Spike released the breath he held and hastily finished the note. "I'm telling you this to show that not all of us here in Equestria have given up on the possibility of diplomacy. I hope that by working together, we can put an end to this conflict with as few casualties as possible."

He looked over his handiwork. Smiling, he signed it off, opened the window, and sent the letter to its destination in a puff of sparkling green fire. He didn't know where the letter would end up, nor did he need to. So long as he knew who the intended recipient was, his innate dragon magic would take it to him.

Now that the deed was done, he curled up against Twilight's side for some much needed rest.

Once his peaceful snoring filled the room, the nurse from earlier poked her head in. Her horn glowed faint green as she blanketed him in a field of levitation magic. With a wistful sigh, she let her disguise slip away to reveal her charcoal-black exoskeleton. Spreading her insectoid wings, she took off through the open window and disappeared into the night sky.
> Chapter III
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Myriad changelings milled about the sleeping chamber. Some were getting up to go to work in the coal mines; others were retiring after a long night of guard duty into one of the thousands of rectangular holes carved into the walls. The holes were deep enough to keep the omnipresent glow out and wide enough to fit a grown changeling. To save space, the hive operated on morning, afternoon, and night shifts, with each bed being shared by one changeling from each shift.

Aurelia had just returned from the night shift. She sat on the edge of her alcove with her head in her hooves, staring out at the opposite end of the chamber. She couldn't shake the feeling of being in a giant mausoleum.

"It may become just that if this war goes on much longer," she said. She wondered if the dead would find any rest when that day came. Necromancy was forbidden, but Cassius didn't strike her as the type who would care.

She rolled onto her back to inspect her perforated hooves. She was an exception among changelings, most of whom cared little for their appearances when not in character. Chrysalis didn't mind. She thought all her children were beautiful inside and that that was what mattered. The notion had always seemed narcissistic. In light of recent events, it was just plain false. "Oh Mother, you must be turning over in your grave."

Most mornings like this ended with Aurelia crying herself to sleep, but lately the tears refused to flow. "You sacrificed yourself so we could be free, so we could have a fresh start, and what did we do? We threw it all away!

"You said you wanted to give us a choice. You said there wouldn't be a point unless we had the option to continue as we always have, but how could we see what a fool's errand stealing love was when we've never known any other way?

"You said I would have to show them, but how can I do that when all they know is that they've lost the only one who ever cared about them? How can the other nations see that we've changed when your appointed leader wants nothing more than to make them share his own emptiness?"

Aurelia sighed. "You must have known this would happen, or why would you have named him Cassius? Not that it matters now. I just wish there was something I could do." She was about to close her eyes when a sphere of ashes swirled into existence above her. It was shrouded in ethereal flames that seemed to be reconstituting it into a scroll of readable parchment. Magic could do some crazy things, and the resemblance to a changeling fire portal was striking, but she'd never seen one used for transmutation. Though the display was over in seconds, it made her head hurt to watch.

She caught the scroll with her magic before it could fall to the ground many stories below. There was no seal. Not that she'd recognize the insignia if there was. Changelings had no need for such nonsense—at least, they didn't used to. Pushing that thought aside, she unrolled the letter.

"Dear Legate Cassius:" she read. "I've recently been made aware... assassination... Princess Celestia... diplomacy... as few casualties as possible. Sincerely, Spike." She rubbed her eyes and read it over twice more.

"Who the hell is Spike?" she asked as if expecting the words to rearrange themselves into an answer. After what had just happened, she wouldn't have batted an eye.

"Does he realize what he's done? This is an act of treason. Even if we managed to strike a deal, there's no way Celestia would honor it." Her mind raced to grapple with the implications. "And why am I getting the Legate's mail? This doesn't make any sense."

She had glided halfway to the entrance when she stopped to smack herself in the face. Hovering there in midair, she saw the letter in a different light, a ghostly greenish light. "If what this pony says is true, the fate of the hive rests in my hooves. If this letter were to get lost in transit, the war would be as good as over—no one else would have to die! With the Legate out of the way, we could still atone for our crimes and peacefully coexist with Equestria. Celestia would understand that we'd been manipulated in our grief."

Her heart threatened to leap from her chest and dance a jig. She'd seen that happen once. Only trained professionals were allowed to practice medical magic after that.

"All I have to do is make sure Cassius never gets this letter, and Mother's sacrifice won't have been in vain." The tip of her horn ignited with a crackling green ember as she pulled ambient magic from the air to fuel one of the few offensive spells she knew—incineration. She'd never had much use for the spell, so she considered herself lucky to still remember it. As she was about to reduce the parchment to a heap of ashes, she stopped. The magic dispersed.

"This isn't what Mother would want. If I kill one of our own—indirectly or otherwise—I'll be no better than the Legate." She rolled up the letter and set off through the winding maze of tunnels that led to Cassius's quarters.


***


"Come in," Cassius called. The gold-trimmed-ebony door that separated Chrysalis's old chamber from the rest of the hive muffled his voice. He had moved in upon assuming the mantle of Legate, reasoning that the new leader taking the old one's office was a fitting way to assert his authority.

Aurelia thought it was more fitting as a testament to his disrespect for the dead. Taking a deep breath, she pushed the door open and stepped inside.

Cassius was lounging in a velvet armchair with his forelegs folded behind his head. His hind legs were propped up on a wooden desk, but he took them down as she came in. All the room's furnishings shared the same black and gold aesthetic.

"Ah, Aurelia," he said. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"You have mail," Aurelia said.

"Really?" Cassius leaned forward to rest his forelegs on the desk.

Aurelia stopped in front of the desk. "No, I came to shoot the breeze over a cup of tea."

"I'm flattered, dear, but you know how busy I am antagonizing Equestria. Perhaps you'd like to make an appointment?"

"Do you want your mail or not?"

Cassius sighed. "What happened to that carefree little filly who was so quick to laugh in my face all those weeks ago?" He smiled playfully. "If you ask me, she was much better company."

Aurelia resisted the urge to buck his overgrown fangs out. "I didn't ask you, but if you must know, she grew up, something that still hasn't happened to you." She tossed the scroll onto the desk and turned to leave.

Cassius's smile faded. "I'm sorry, Aurelia."

Aurelia stopped, still facing the door.

"I know you miss her. We all do. Even me, believe it or not." Cassius added under his breath, "They took her away from you, and I'll never forgive them for that."

Aurelia choked back a sob.

"Those ponies are the ones you should be mad at, not me. I may not know the first thing about leading a nation, much less waging war, but I'll be damned if I'm not going to make them pay for what they did!"

Shuddering, Aurelia turned to face Cassius. "Mother wouldn't want this!" Tears streaked her face. "She gave her life so we could be free, so we could be happy. That was her dream for us: to love and be loved instead of being shunned by every nation we come into contact with.

"She knew attacking the capital was a suicide mission. She needed to give the ponies such a reason to kill her that the crimes we've committed under her control would pale in comparison, to make herself the villain. She was at peace with that because she knew there was no other way. Not anymore."

Cassius leaned back. "How could you know that?"

"Because she told me. Before she left, she told me everything: why she wouldn't be coming back, why there was no other way, and what to do when the others found out.

"She wanted me to be our ambassador, to go to the other races and show them that we've changed." Aurelia marched forward, planted her hooves on the desk, and glared down at Cassius. "Thanks to you, we haven't changed a bit."

Cassius stood and walked around the desk to offer her a hug.

Aurelia backed away.

"Aurelia, why didn't—"

"Because you wouldn't understand."

"Did she tell you that too?"

"No, I figured that out myself."

Cassius searched Aurelia's glossy blue eyes for some indication of what he was supposed to feel. Guilt, confusion, and anger were likely possibilities. "How?"

Aurelia walked over to the couch on the left side of the room and climbed on. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and answered, "You're empty."

"What?"

Aurelia opened her eyes and looked at him. "That's what your name means—empty. That's why you're waging this senseless war, so your enemies can know the same emptiness you do. You'd rather send your family to the slaughter than face your own feelings." She chuckled. The sound was dark and humorless. "I didn't realize until tonight, but she knew this would happen."

"Get out," Cassius muttered.

Aurelia got up and began pacing around the room. "I almost didn't deliver that letter, you know. With you gone, I could still undo the damage. We could still have peace, but I could never live with your blood on my hooves." She stopped to look him in the eye. "I've already lost too many brothers and sisters."

"Get out!" Cassius bucked the desk with enough force to splinter its surface, sending it tumbling back into the chair. Both crashed to the floor. He stared her down all the while, chest heaving.

Giving him the betrayed look a little filly would to an abusive father, Aurelia backed out the door.

Once the patter of hooves against stone faded out, Cassius relaxed his stance and turned to survey the damage. He righted the desk, flipped it around so the hoof marks wouldn't be visible from the door, and collapsed into the chair.

His eyes fell on the scroll. Its outline looked fuzzier than it had a minute ago. Something must have gotten in his eye. Seconds became minutes as he willed his tear ducts to wash away the fleck of coal dust or whatever it was. Once his vision returned to its usual sharpness, he unrolled the parchment. A wide, toothy grin stretched across his face as he began reading. "Shining Armor, eh?"


***


Spike awoke on a black velvet couch. The eerie glow coming from somewhere above him tinted the gold-leaf embroidery a sickly green. The air was musty and damp, but it smelled like morels dipped in clover honey. He flicked his forked tongue and rose to a sitting position, stifling a yawn. Twisting the stiffness out of his neck, he saw others in the room. They appeared to be equines, but all he could make out was their solid blue eyes, which pierced the haze like will-o'-the-wisps in Froggy Bottom Bog.

"Sleep well?" a cheery, masculine voice echoed through his head as if from the far side of a canyon. He took a moment to find the source. Among the dark gray blobs that filled the room, only the one sitting behind a desk returned his gaze. 

The taller blobs on either side stood stock still, staring straight ahead.

"Bah?" Spike asked.

"Really? That's a shame. Your letter made you sound so eloquent."

"What?" Spike shook his head. The images were starting to come into focus. He was in a cavern, an elaborately furnished cavern lit up by some sort of luminescent fungus. The blobs were chitinous creatures with long, twisted horns and translucent wings—changelings.

He was surrounded. He grabbed the closest thing he could find and swung it around in a defensive gesture. "Who are you? What am I doing here? I've got a... uh... candlestick? That's right. I've got a candlestick, and I'm not afraid to use it!" 

The guards didn't so much as blink.

The changeling behind the desk smirked. "Well, aren't you a feisty one?" he asked. "As for what you're doing here, you appear to be making a fool of yourself." With his magic, he yanked the candlestick from Spike's claws and set it down on the end table where it belonged. "You're right about one thing, though: introductions are in order. I'm Legate Cassius. You may call me Brother if you prefer. You're part of the family, after all."

"You're not my brother."

Cassius rolled his eyes, but his lack of an iris ruined the effect. "It's a figure of speech. Would you like some tea?"

Spike climbed back onto the couch, never taking his eyes off Cassius. "No."

"Good, because we don't have any."

"Then why did you offer?"

Cassius feigned offense. "Excuse me for trying to make you feel comfortable! It's not like you wanted any."

"I'm not going to gratify that with a response."

"Then what do you call that?"

Spike crossed his arms and took a closer look at the room. It was roughly cylindrical with a domed ceiling and a heavy wooden door. His gaze settled on the smooth gray walls, which were lined with portraits of various changelings. Chrysalis's was the largest and most detailed, and the only one he recognized. It hung directly above and behind the desk. Having expected something to the effect of the Changeling Queen standing at the front of an army, smirking menacingly as she ground her hoof into the dismembered body of a still-breathing pony, his thoughts ground to a screeching halt at what he actually saw.

The few changelings he'd had the displeasure of meeting had led him to believe that they were all cold-blooded cutthroats, yet here was an image of Chrysalis laying on her side, eyes downcast as she hugged a young changeling with her neck. Replace the two of them with Celestia and Twilight, and the scene became one he'd often witnessed while growing up in Canterlot. He looked away. "What do you mean I'm 'part of the family?'"

"You're Spike, are you not?"

"I am."

"The same Spike who wrote this letter?" Cassius held open the scroll.

"Yes."

Cassius rolled up the scroll and placed it back on the desk. "You realize this is an act of treason, don't you? If Celestia were to find out, you'd never be allowed back into Equestria. You're an outcast now, just like us."

"That's not true. Twilight would vouch for me. She'd understand I was trying to do the right thing."

"By throwing her brother to the manticores? Oh yes, I can see how well that will go over. Feel free to run back to your little pony, then. I'll tell my guards to let you pass."

Spike stayed rooted to the cushion. "How do you know Shining is Twilight's brother?"

Cassius tilted his head back and stared at the ceiling. Sighing, he looked down, opened the desk drawer and levitated out a flask. He drained it to the last drop before putting it back in the desk. His mouth twitched into a quirky grin as he turned to Spike. "I may not have been there for the royal wedding, but I know what happened as well as any changeling, the last act notwithstanding. Those details are fuzzy. By all rights, I should have been privy to Mother's thoughts right until the end."

"You must have repressed the memory."

Cassius shrugged and addressed the guard on his right, "Remind me to see a psychologist once we've annihilated all of pony kind."

"Yes, Sir," the guard replied.

Cassius got up and walked over to sit beside Spike. "Enough about me, though." Cassius's breath reeked of wormwood. "I'm dying to know why you'd put a knife to the backs of your adoptive mother, her brother, your princess, and just about everypony else you've ever known. Is peace that important to you?"

"No, I didn't do it for me." Spike got up and began pacing around the room. "I did it for my 'adoptive mother,' as you call her. We were close, but hold no illusion about us being family. Certainly not now."

Cassius leaned back into the couch. "The plot thickens."

"She was shocked that Celestia wouldn't consider negotiating with you before ordering your assassination, all because of something your former queen did. I could almost hear Twilight's heart breaking, so when Celestia left, I did the only thing I could think of: I sent you that letter and hoped for the best."

Cassius stifled a laugh. "Seriously? I know love makes you crazy, but are you sure you weren't smoking poison joke or something?"

Spike stopped. "Attacking the Equestrian capital during a royal wedding made so much sense, right?"

Cassius looked thoughtful. "I'm sure Mother had her reasons."

"What happened to her, anyway?"

Cassius frowned. "Weren't you there?"

Spike made his way back to the couch and sat a respectable distance away from Cassius. "Humor me."

Cassius stared vacantly at the other side of the room. "She died. Just like all the others. We never did find her body. As I understand, they were thrown off a mountain by the very same unicorn stallion who's now coming for me." He grinned down at Spike and pointed at a blank space on the opposite wall. "Once I'm through, the only thing left to recognize him by will be his bloody pelt hanging from my wall."

Spike did his best to ignore the mental image. "What about Cadence?"

"What about her? I suppose I could gift-wrap Shining's heart and mail it to her, but I doubt she'd have much use for it by then. Besides, any score we have will be more than settled when she has to face the rest of her extraordinary lifespan as a widow. Who knows, she may even commit suicide! Wouldn't that be sweet karmic retribution?"

"I'd tell you you're a monster, but I doubt you'd care."

"You'd be right. I'm a monster through and through." Cassius walked over to face the desk and looked up at Chrysalis's portrait. "Apparently that's what Mother wanted me to be, so who am I to deny her that dying wish?"

"Do you always do what you're told?"

"Heavens no!" Cassius turned to Spike, eyes stretched wide in feigned shock. "If I did that, Aurelia would have had her way long ago. Before you ask, no, we're not related."

"Who's Aurelia?"

"You don't know? Given your position on the war, I'd have thought you sent your letter to her on purpose. Honestly, how much you two remind me of each other makes me sick." Cassius looked thoughtful. "Then again, that might be the absinthe."

"What do you mean? My letter should have gone straight to you. That's how dragon magic works."

"Really? That's fascinating! We may have a use for you after all. Of course, I'll have to see this assassin for myself before—"

A heavy knock sounded through the door.

"I'm in the middle of an important diplomatic discussion," Cassius called. "Come back later." He waved his hoof as if the other party could see the gesture and sat down behind the desk. He took the flask out again but frowned when he realized it was empty.

"We've apprehended the assassin, Sir," a muffled, haggard voice answered.

"Goodness me, what a convenient coincidence! By all means, send him in."

The door opened to reveal the battered form of one of Celestia's Royal Guards. His helmet had been removed, his armor hung to the side like a moth-eaten rag, steel clasps held his horn and legs, his coat had turned a dusty gray, he was bleeding from several places, and one of his eyes had swollen shut.

Cassius frowned. "What did you do, drag him through the coal mines?"

"Sorry Sir, he put up quite a fight," one of the accompanying guards replied.

"At least he's still alive. I suppose that's what counts." Cassius fluttered over the desk. "Hello, my little pony! You must be Shining Armor. My brother and I were just talking about you. I hope my welcoming committee didn't tire you out too much, because the fun has only just begun."

Shining would have spat, but his mouth was too dry. He looked around the room and spotted Spike. "They captured you too, eh? Don't worry, I'll come find you once I'm done cleaning this bug's face off my hooves."

"Don't be silly, Shiny Dearest. It's very unbecoming of Celestia's finest." With his hoof, Cassius turned Shining's head to face him. "The only reason you haven't killed me already is because of your nephew over there."

Spike grimaced.

Shining snarled. "What are you talking about?"

"That's right!" Cassius declared. "Of all the humiliating ways to meet your end, you got sold out by a baby dragon."

Shining stared at Spike, brow furrowing. "Why?"

Spike tried to come up with a reasonable explanation, but words failed him as he realized there was no escaping the consequences of his ill-conceived plan. Nothing he said would make him understand. "I just wanted to set things right."

Cassius continued, "All right, you have your explanation, now get out of my sight. You're standing on an expensive carpet, and I won't tolerate you bleeding all over it. Save that for when you're in the dungeon. I'll come join you once I'm done here."

As the guards took Shining away, Cassius turned to Spike. "Would you look at that? Your information was correct after all."

"I feel sick," Spike mumbled.

"Oh, don't be like that. You've held up your end of the bargain, so now I'm going to hold up mine."

"Really?"

Cassius rolled his eyes. "Think of me what you will, but I'm a changeling of my word. You're off to see Aurelia; she's in charge of foreign relations. I'm sure she'll be thrilled to have a foreigner to relate to." Cassius kneeled to whisper in Spike's ear. "If we're lucky, she might even stop bothering me about peace, harmony, and all that other pony crap."

"I thought you said diplomacy was out of the question."

Cassius shrugged. "I don't know. Why don't you ask Aurelia about it?" He stood, looked to his guards, and clapped his hooves. "Guards, escort our draconian guest to the embassy."

The guards exchanged uncertain glances before one spoke up, "Sir, we don't have an embassy."

"Well, make one. Then take him there. Inform Aurelia while you're at it. At the very least, I'm sure she'll enjoy the company."
> Chapter IV
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Shining was a tough stallion, but with the steel clasp on his horn disrupting his magic, he was as helpless as a rabbit whose foot had been taken to bring someone else good luck.

Four burly changelings had no trouble hauling him to the dungeon. When he tried to escape anyway, they knocked him out and dragged him the rest of the way before throwing him in a cage. He landed in a heap on the sheet of bedrock that served as a floor, surrounded on all sides by rusty, dented iron bars two inches in diameter that speared straight through the ceiling.

The pair of changelings that stayed behind to guard the entrance would have blended in seamlessly if not for the stabbing light of their eyes, for the darkness was almost absolute on the lower levels of the hive where the coal dust choked the glowing mushrooms of moisture.

"Shining?"

Other cages formed a row with Shining's, most of them devoid of life. The next one over bore the silhouette of another prisoner, but even if Shining was awake, he wouldn't have been able to make out many details. This same prisoner had just whispered.

"Is that you?" she asked, a little louder.

Shining perked up his ears and swiveled them toward the noise, an instinctive reaction, for he was still asleep. As is often the case when on the verge of wakefulness, the words wormed their way into his head anyway. They were far too familiar. His mind drifted to a scene that had taken place just the other day in Canterlot Castle's hospital.

"Please wake up, Shining."

At length, Shining rose to his hooves and looked around. The outline he saw was too soft and rounded to be a changeling. It had a horn, so he presumed he was looking at a unicorn mare.

"Who's there?" Shining asked. He sniffed the air, hoping her scent would be some indication. His eyes crossed and he gagged as the smell of rotting flesh hit him like a freight train.

"Shh... I don't want to think about what the guards might do if they hear us," the mare said.

"Who are you?" Shining whispered. He held his hoof over his nostrils, masking the tinge of hope in his voice with a nasally quality. He knew only a fool would dare to be optimistic in a situation like this, and he would never wish such an ill fate on his sister, but he couldn't help clinging to the desperate belief that he might not be alone. Coming to the hive by himself was insane, but maybe by working together, they could escape. Not his idea of quality time, but a small blessing nonetheless.

The mare stepped into the faint glimmer of light between their cages and whispered back, "What's wrong? Don't you recognize your own sister?"

Shining was surprised how much better off she looked than him; their captors hadn't even bound her horn. She must not have put up a fight, or else they'd have known what a grievous mistake they'd made. Maybe that was her plan all along. He held his hoof to the bars. "Twilight, what are you doing here?"

Twilight's ears drooped. "That's a long story."

Shining smiled. "I'm not going anywhere."

Twilight didn't. "Spike came to visit me after you left. We fell asleep together, but when I woke up, he was gone and the window was open. I knew he must have been foalnapped by changelings, so I came after him. Not wanting to hurt anypony, I tried sneaking by." She gave a sad, quiet laugh. "I didn't get much further than the front entrance."

"Don't worry, Twilie. I'll get us out of here." Shining felt around in the darkness for the offset rectangle that marked the cell door and inspected it. He was no expert, but the lock seemed to be a simple, archaic mechanism. She could probably shift the tumblers into place telekinetically. If that didn't work, time and use had deteriorated the metal casing enough that smashing it apart wasn't out of the question.

He had no doubt that would alert the guards, though. On the other hoof, their night vision was probably acute enough that they'd already seen him. He wondered why they hadn't tried to stop him yet. He wasn't looking to pick any more fights without his magic.

He wasn't a coward. He'd come here by himself, after all. Then again, that was only because no other pony, not even Celestia, had the guts to do what he needed to.

He wasn't stupid either. He'd done his research. He'd expected the changelings to fight like they had in Canterlot. He didn't expect the level of micromanagement their current leader must have employed, but they wouldn't be so lucky next time.

"Promise me you won't kill anypony," Twilight said.

Shining had no idea how long he'd been lost in his thoughts, staring at the cell door, but she must have seen his expression turn sour—quite a feat considering how dark that part of his cell was. He walked back to face her before answering. When he did, his voice held none of the coldness it had in the hospital. His words were a grim acceptance of fact. "You know that's a promise I wouldn't be able to keep."

"Why?"

Shining doubted any Element of Harmony could ever accept that fact, but he still had to try. "These changelings are vicious, mindless insects that will stop at nothing to carry out their orders. They don't care who lives or dies. Their leader is the only one with thoughts of his own, and he's the worst one."

"Is that why you murdered my assassin?"

"What?"

"The changeling who tried to kill me. You murdered him." Twilight turned away so he wouldn't see the gleam in her eyes. "You bashed his head into the cell door until he bled to death!"

"That's not true! He did that to himself. I thought Princess Celestia told you."

By then the guards had overheard the conversation, but they did nothing to stop it. Judging from the glint in their eyes, they were probably stifling laughs.

"You thought Celestia lied to me, you mean. She did, but the nurse who examined the body didn't." Twilight turned to face Shining. "You know, the one you tried to intimidate when you came to visit me."

"You couldn't have heard that; you were asleep."

"I heard enough."

"He tried to kill you, Twilight! What part of that don't you understand?"

"In case you haven't noticed, he failed. You killed him anyway." Twilight tilted her head. "I'm curious, why did you do it? Was it for me and Cadence, or was it for your own sick pleasure? I bet you smiled at the sound his shell made when it cracked like an egg against the iron bars. I bet you giggled like a schoolfilly as you tried to wash the blood off your hooves." She grinned. "It wouldn't come off, would it? No, you wanted more. That's why you came here. You don't care about Equestria. All you care about is petty revenge. Tell me I'm wrong. I dare you."

Shining should have known. Part of him probably did, but that didn't make the realization any less disturbing. "You're not my sister."

Twilight laughed. Her voice became deep and resonant. "Good grief, you sure took long enough. After what happened at the royal wedding, I knew you ponies must be thick, but that's just... wow. You deserve a medal or something. Does my foalsitter know she married a world-class imbecile?"

Shining knew that voice all too well. It frayed his nerves like a piano would to the rope holding it aloft from a second-story window. Cassius's audacity knew no bounds. "She's not your foalsitter, Cassius," he spat, "and she never was, now get the hell out of Twilight's body!" He slammed his front hooves against the bars. "I'll—"

Cassius stepped forward. They were almost nose to nose. "You'll what? Kill me?" He mimicked Twilight's voice again. "You're more of a monster than I am if you'd do that to your own sister."

Shining thrust his horn through the bars, the steel clasp caught between them with a clang, causing a hairline crack to spider web up the base of his horn. He stumbled back and hit the ground, pressed his forelegs against his skull, and bit back a scream. He'd endured broken bones in the service before, but nothing compared to the mind-shattering agony of a cracked horn. Unlike most injuries, it would have to heal on its own time. Medical magic would only make it worse.

"Careful now, Shiny Dearest. You wouldn't want to destroy what few brain cells you may have. That's my job." Cassius's horn flared with green magic.

Shining lifted into the air and slammed against the bars on the far end of his cage. He had the good fortune not to hit his head again. Tattered as his armor was, it cushioned his back against the impact. He hung in the air for a moment, but not long enough for his stomach to settle before he soared up to the ceiling. The magic dispersed and he fell to the ground, landing on his haunches.

"Are you ready to talk now, or am I going to have to knock some more sense into you?"

Shining didn't answer. His eyes rolled around in his head. They eventually settled back into their natural position, but the lights stayed off; nopony was home.

Cassius waited for a spark of intelligence to return to Shining's expression before continuing. "It's a brutal way to die. I didn't know ponies were capable of such violence, but I suppose I should expect no less from the stallion who murdered my mother."

Shining massaged his forehead with a hoof. "She's dead?"

"You threw her off a mountain, you ass. What did you think was going to happen?"

"I thought she was made of tougher stuff. She beat Princess Celestia in one-on-one combat."

"Ugh, don't even get me started on that pretender. If—"

"Hypocrite."

Cassius glared at Shining. "As I was saying, if Celestia was using her full strength, there would have been nothing left of poor Chrysalis." Cassius began to pace around his cell. "Hell, she might have fried all of Canterlot if she wasn't careful," he grumbled, "saving me a heap of trouble."

Shining shook his head, more from the news than the injury. He winced at the wave of searing pain the gesture brought to his forehead. He felt as though his brains were sloshing around. Assuming he got out of this hell hole, he hoped there wouldn't be lasting damage. "Why would she hold back?"

"Beats me. Your sister seems to think she did, though."

"How do you know all this?"

"My spies are everywhere. The nurse who was tending to Twilight, for instance."

Shining's eyes snapped open, some of their former alertness returning. "She's the one who foalnapped Spike."

Cassius stopped pacing and smiled. "You catch on quickly. Perhaps I misjudged you."

"He's not on your side, is he?"

Cassius sat down and brushed his chin with a hoof. "I'm not sure. I've heard that evil can't comprehend good, but his actions are too convoluted to be pigeonholed as either."

"What about you? Why are you down here tormenting me when you could be marching on Canterlot? If you want a military victory, this is your chance." Realizing what he'd just said, Shining cursed himself. His role as Canterlot's first line of defense was no secret, but if Cassius hadn't known about it, countless ponies' lives could be in jeopardy.

"You answered your own question. I have no interest in a military victory, nor do my brothers and sisters. In truth, we want the same thing you do."

Shining was too confused to be relieved. "What's that?"

"Revenge."

Despite the circumstances, Shining cracked a grin. "Funny."

"You know as well as I do that that's why you're here. After what my kind did to your wife and sister, you're dying to see what color I bleed."

Shining rolled his eyes. "You've caught me."

Cassius made a sweeping gesture to the surrounding dungeon. "Literally, but that's not the point I wanted to make." His body shimmered as he changed his form to match Shining's, injuries and all. Being a superficial illusion, the process wasn't as grotesque as might be expected. "We're kindred spirits, you and I."

Shining couldn't help but marvel at how well the disguise accounted for the dust and bloody patches that mottled his coat. Even the swollen eye was there. Only the chains and scraps of armor were missing. Impressive as the disguise was, it didn't stop his hypocritical laughter. "You look like hell!"

Cassius ignored him. "Revenge is the only thing that keeps you going."

Shining's mirth faded.

"As my darling Aurelia said to me earlier, I'm a soulless husk." Cassius looked aside. His voice had been carefree and mocking since he'd revealed himself, but it became tinged with remorse as he spoke. "She thinks I'm going to kill you to get back at Equestria for Mother's death. She's right in a way, but my motives aren't so simple." He looked back at Shining. "Tell me, do you know why I feel the way I do?"

"I couldn't care less."

"That's disappointing. Despite what Aurelia thinks, there's more than hatred in my heart. Too bad the same can't be said for you. You may be happily married, but you only want one thing, and only one individual can give it to you."

"I don't cooperate with terrorists," Shining growled.

"Shut up. This is between, you, me, and the eavesdropping guards, so you can drop the act."

"I'll sooner die."

Cassius smiled. "All in good time, but wouldn't you like to get what you came for first?"

Shining walked away and sat on the opposite end of his cell.

"I'm a reasonable changeling. You may have murdered my mother, but your revenge won't be complete until I lie dead, nor will mine until all Equestrians know what losing someone they love feels like. You just tell me who to kill, and I'll let you fight me to the death. Simple as that."

When Shining answered, he didn't look back. "As Celestia is my witness, I'll never help you."

Cassius was silent for a moment, but not long enough for Shining to enjoy it. "Very well, as soon as Celestia lies dead, I'll be back to do the same to you. You'll have healed by then, so we'll have a fair fight." Cassius turned to the guards, who were making no effort to hide their eavesdropping. "You there, guards! Open this cage. I have a matriarchy to topple."

"Yes, Sir," came the guard's reply.

Shining heard the clink of a set of keys being taken off a hook before one of the guards walked over and unlocked the door to Cassius's cell.

Still wearing his disguise, Cassius disappeared into the darkness. Seeing no more reason to stick around, the guards followed suit. The sound of their hoofsteps faded away.

"I assure you, Cassius," Shining said to the empty chamber, "you'll be long dead before you ever lay a hoof on her." He sighed, lay down, and shut his eyes.


***


Cassius was not a changeling of hyperbole. When he told his guards to make an embassy, they knew better than to think otherwise, but no small amount of effort went into finding the shabbiest location available.

After trudging through many miles of long-abandoned tunnels, the guards found what they were looking for in the farthest northern reaches of the hive. By day, a split in the rocky ceiling that cut through to the surface world sent a warm beam of sunshine, as well as the odd shriveled leaf or other debris, into the middle of the chamber. The perpetual suspension of coal dust was thin this close to the surface, but thick enough to give the light a three-dimensional quality. The room was pitch black by night, for the ultraviolet radiation stunted the mushroom's luminescence. The guards had set up two chairs, a round maple table covered in a red and white checkerboard quilt, and a brass candlestick in the far corner from the narrow, unrefined slit in the wall that comprised an entrance. The furniture would have looked out of place anywhere else in the caverns, but the intended jest was lost on Spike.

As Spike sat in his chair, his head and shoulders just visible over the edge of the table, he could almost imagine he was sitting at a picnic table in one of the grassy meadows outside Ponyville instead of the depths of a changeling hive. Though he missed the mushrooms' pleasant smell and entertained the notion that eating one might make him glow in the dark too, he welcomed the sight of natural light.

The guards had said they would send for Aurelia, but as the hours ticked by, he began to wonder if that was true.

Finally, at around twilight if the dimming light's orange tint was anything to go by, a tall, slim changeling slipped into the room.

Spike had fallen asleep at the table. He was enjoying a dream about an ordinary day back at the Ponyville library, but the sound of hoofsteps woke him up. He took a moment to remember where he was. Looking up to see the changeling looming over him, he yelped and dashed under the table. It didn't provide much cover, but the illusion of security gave him a moment to gather his wits.

For her part, the changeling was equally surprised. She had stumbled back into the ray of light, where she sat with her hoof held across her chest as she stared at him. Her wide blue eyes glittered with undisguised curiosity. "Um, hi," she said, more meekly than she'd intended. "I was supposed to meet somepony named Spike here, have you seen him?"

Spike blushed. He'd faced a room full of changelings, including their homicidally insane leader, with nothing but a candlestick—the candle wasn't even lit—yet here he was cowering before the only changeling he'd met who seemed genuinely friendly. Perhaps that was what set him on edge—Cassius had been a thinly-veiled wolf in sheep's clothing. Her being drop-dead gorgeous might have played some part as well.

The misconception that changelings didn't have manes arose from how the males would shave their heads before battle for the same reason members of Celestia's Royal Guard had bleached coats. Since changeling females seldom fought in the open, they were allowed to keep their manes, which were the same shade of gray as their tails. The few individual changelings that bothered with styling these features were among the only ones that members of the other races could identify.

This changeling was one such individual. Both her mane and tail were braided into ponytails. The latter fell around her withers with bangs that reached to just above her eyes, shining like silver in the early-evening light.

Though Spike was sure he'd never seen her before, he couldn't help feeling a sense of familiarity. Gathering his courage and what remained of his dignity, he crawled out from under the table, cleared his throat, and said, "I'm Spike, actually. It's a pleasure to meet you, Ms..."

He offered his claw for the changeling to shake.

The changeling seemed confused by the gesture. Slowly, as if testing water, she stretched out her lifted hoof.

Spike clasped her hoof in his claw and shook.

"My name's Aure—hey, that tickles!" The changeling pulled her hoof away when his talon brushed into one of the cavities. Scientists have yet to determine what purpose they serve, but every changeling knows how extremely sensitive they are.

Spike scratched the back of his neck. The way her cheeks lit up made him wonder if he'd committed some sort of social faux pas. He'd never been trained in diplomacy, after all. "Sorry. I didn't know."

The changeling thought she saw a devious glint in his eyes, but it was gone too soon to tell.

"What were you saying your name was?"

"Aurelia. So you're Spike, huh?" Aurelia sized Spike up with mock skepticism.

"What?"

"I was expecting someone older."

"You're not so old yourself."

Aurelia quirked an eyebrow. "Should I take that as a compliment?"

"I meant I'm probably not more than a few years younger than you are."

"Okay, but shouldn't the Equestrian ambassador be a pony?"

"Do you have a problem with my being a dragon?"

"The few dragons I've known have all been selfish, egotistical jerks."

Spike laughed. "You're telling me."

"So you're not like that?"

"Would I be here if I was?"

"I don't know, would you? Your letter was pretty ambiguous. It almost sounded like you betrayed that unicorn so we'd take you under our wings." Aurelia flitted her translucent green wings. "I'll bet that's how Cassius read into it."

Spike sighed, walked back to his chair, and slumped into it. "I don't know what I was thinking."

Aurelia climbed onto the chair across from him. Figuring out how to sit in these things was always awkward, as if they'd been made exclusively for bipeds, but after some trial and error, she managed to find a comfortable position.

"I guess I just didn't want anypony to get hurt." Spike chuckled mirthlessly. "You can see how well that turned out."

"Yeah."

"There's one thing I don't get, though." Spike looked up at Aurelia.

Aurelia looked back expectantly.

"My letter was addressed to Legate Cassius, but he said it came to you first."

"How does that work, anyway? Do you just breathe fire on it?"

"Pretty much. So long as I know who I want on the receiving end, my dragon magic will take it to them."

Aurelia tilted her head. "Can you show me?"

"Sure. I'll need something to send though."

"Wait here, I'll be right back." Aurelia scampered out the door and around the corner.

Spike waited. The light was almost gone, so he blew a wisp of flame at the candle, being careful not to think about her as he did so. For all his magic was good for, it suffered from one serious flaw: it had no off switch. He'd learned to control it, though, so the wick flared up as intended. He stared into the candlelight as it bathed the room in a flickering yellow-orange glow. Fire had always fascinated him.

Aurelia returned with a raven's quill, a bottle of ink, and some ashen parchment. "Here you go."

"Thanks." Spike took a scrap of the parchment and began writing something.

Aurelia sat down and looked around in wonder. She'd seen candlelight before, but it had always been blended with the blue-green glow of the mushrooms, the result being dull-white light. Only the coal miners saw candlelight in its raw form, and she didn't envy them.

"Here goes."

A flash of green fire drew Aurelia back to the matter at hoof. A moment later, a folded piece of parchment appeared next to her just as before. She opened it.

"You're cute," she read. Her heart fluttered around in her chest but made no effort to escape this time. The candlelight reflecting off her lampblack skin made her blush all the more apparent. "Thanks," she said, sparing a glance at Spike. The look she gave him would keep him warm for days to come. She gestured for the quill. "May I?"

Spike handed her the quill.

Aurelia wrote something else on the parchment and enveloped it in her own burst of green flames. A heap of ashes fell to the table.

"Yeah, it only works for dragons. What did you write?"

Aurelia smiled. "You're cute too."

"Aw, shucks. You know, I used to think all changelings were just like Legate Cassius. I'm glad I was wrong."

Aurelia's smile faded. "He wasn't always so bad."

Spike remembered the way Cassius had looked at Chrysalis's portrait. "How so?"

"It's complicated."

"I'm not going anywhere."

"I don't really want to talk about it, I mean. Not right now."

"All right."

Spike and Aurelia sat in silence, avoiding each other's eyes.

After a minute, she asked, "How did a dragon come to live among ponies?"

Spike seized the opportunity to lighten the mood and delved into the same story he'd told Fluttershy on his first day in Ponyville, about how he'd been a test egg in the entry exam at Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns, how a unicorn foal had hatched him one day in a brilliant burst of magical energy, and how they had grown up together in Canterlot.

He went on to highlight their various adventures upon moving to Ponyville and all the other major events leading up to the present day.

Aurelia listened to the better part of his speech with rapt attention but began to fall asleep toward the end.

Watching her lay there with her muzzle nestled in her hooves reminded Spike of the days when Cadence used to read stories to him and Twilight before bed. He got the feeling Aurelia hadn't slept this peacefully in a long time. If not for his overpowering curiosity, he would have felt guilty about waking her up. "What about you?"

Aurelia opened her eyes and looked up at him with a sheepish smile. Rising to her hooves, she shook her head to clear the haze. "Sorry, what was that?"

"I'm done boring you with my story, so now it's your turn." Spike winked.

Aurelia nodded and yawned.

Spike couldn't help noticing her fangs, which weren't much bigger than his own despite her being several times his size.

Aurelia got up, stretched, and sat back down at the table before beginning. "Well, since I've only been self-aware for little over a month now, my story isn't a long one, but I should probably explain a few things about changeling culture and biology first."

"A history lesson, huh? I don't suppose you'd let me use you as a pillow?"

"Maybe if you'd done the same for me. My neck is still stiff."

"I could help with that." Spike held up his claw. "These are good for more than just tickling, you know."

Blushing, Aurelia tucked her hooves under the table. "Perhaps later. I still owe you a story, after all."

"Of course."

Aurelia told Spike that while changelings need to eat and drink like anyone else, they need love most of all. It fuels their magic and keeps them alive. Though there were many families in the hive, Chrysalis had loved them all like her own children. To reinforce the notion, everyone had begun referring to each other as "Brother" or "Sister," and to Chrysalis as "Mother." Her love had kept them alive for a long time, but she only had so much to give.

The changelings had to find other sources eventually. Starved, they were drawn to Equestria as if by a magnet, but the ponies had no intention of helping what they saw as twisted, demonic shadows of themselves. Chrysalis had met with Celestia on several occasions, but Celestia didn't trust her. Desperate, the changelings started feeding off the loved ones of abducted ponies, earning the name "Changeling."

Aurelia breathed a subtle sigh of relief when Spike didn't ask about the attack on Canterlot. She wasn't ready to talk about Chrysalis's motivation, but she didn't want to stain their first meeting by lying to him.

Instead, Spike asked what not being in control of her own thoughts was like.

Aurelia struggled to find the right words. She had never felt like someone else was in control. Her actions had been a foregone conclusion, one she hadn't needed to think about. It was like a dream that never ended—a nightmare at times, such as when the connection would waver and she'd be left to operate on animal instinct, but those occasions were rare. Like a fish with the good fortune to have never left water, she hadn't had a concept of free will.

The feeling of that someone no longer being in control was unmistakable, though. It had been traumatizing, not just because she was suddenly alone in her head and her body wouldn't move unless she told it to, but because she knew the reason why. The others had the benefit of ignorance until they got their thoughts in order and put two and two together, but she knew from the start.

She agreed with Spike, albeit for a different reason, that the time she spent under Chrysalis's control wasn't worth talking about, so she went on to tell him about the last few weeks, her first few weeks of self-awareness. He listened with rapt attention.


***


"That's when the guards came to get me," Aurelia finished. She felt guilty that Spike hadn't shown any signs of boredom since she began. He'd even asked questions whereas she'd simply sat there and listened during his story. To be fair, hers was a lot shorter. Unlike the surface world, the last few weeks were a subject she knew well, so she found opening up much easier.

"You know," Spike said, "writing that letter may be the stupidest thing I've ever done, but at least something good came of it."

Aurelia leaned in and rested her forelegs on the table. She knew the answer to her next question, but she still wanted to hear him say it. "What's that?"

Spike leaned in to meet her and held her hooves in his claws. As tempting as seeing her reaction again was, he took care to avoid the holes this time. That could wait until they were somewhere with a door. "I met you."

"You're sweet."

"Saccharine even?"

Aurelia giggled. "Oh yes."

"I'm glad Shining can't see us right now. I'd be discharged from Celestia's Royal Guard for fraternizing with the enemy."

"You're not in Celestia's Royal Guard. Now if Cassius saw us, I'm sure I'd never hear the end of it."

"Do you think—"

"Monster!" a voice shot across the room.

In their revelry, neither Spike nor Aurelia had noticed the unicorn entering. 

"I'll paint this cave with your entrails!" The unicorn drew back a hoof and leveled his horn, which was no longer restricted by the steel clasp, in preparation to charge.

Aurelia froze. Her breath caught in her throat. She hadn't seen this unicorn before, but there weren't many of his kind running around the tunnels. There shouldn't have been any; Cassius had caught his would-be assassin hours ago.

Spike leaped from his chair to stand between them, arms outstretched. "Shining, stop! She's not our enemy!"

Shining snorted. "What's the meaning of this?" His eyes fixed on Aurelia, who was still sitting at the wooden table. He didn't have the natural talent of a cockatrice, but the effect was much the same. "You would stoop so low as to enthrall my nephew? Release him!"

Aurelia dared not move a muscle. She hardly knew any spells, much less love spells. If Shining wanted a fight, she didn't stand much of a chance. She hoped she wouldn't have to. Spike might try to protect her, but she doubted he could bring himself to cause serious harm to Shining, who was apparently his uncle. Not biologically, she assumed.

Spike relaxed his stance but stayed put. "You've never called me nephew before."

Shining, the Captain of Celestia's Royal Guard, was caught off guard for the second time in the past two days. He hesitated. His expression shifted to that of a colt caught trying to swipe a cupcake from Sugarcube Corner.

Aurelia could only watch in abject terror as Spike marched up and slugged him in the muzzle. She finally let out the breath she held when Spike didn't become a macabre new ornament on Shining's horn.

Shining just chuckled, a sound that soon gave way to hysterical laughter.

The way it echoed off the granite walls gave Aurelia the impression that there were several of him all laughing at once like a pack of hungry hyenas closing in on a cornered animal.

Spike went to throw another punch, but Shining blocked him with a magical barrier—a green magical barrier.

Aurelia found her voice, cracked as it was. "Cassius! What the hell is wrong with you?" When Cassius ignored her and kept laughing, she flew over to land in his face with her forelegs around Spike in a protective stance. "You have a sick sense of humor."

"You should have seen the looks on your faces!" Cassius said. "Especially you, Aurelia."

Aurelia glared at him. "What do you want?"

"I'm terribly sorry, sister. I didn't mean to interrupt your date, but I wasn't expecting to find you 'fraternizing with the enemy,' as Spike said. You can bet you'll never hear the end of this, though."

Aurelia fought a blush and held her glare. "How much did you hear?"

"More than I'd care to, I assure you."

"Is there some reason you're bothering us?" Spike asked.

"Of course!" Cassius coughed. "Shining, the real one, helped me come up with the most ingenious plan, but I'm going to need your help to pull it off."

"Give me one good reason why I should help you."

Cassius sighed theatrically. "You two are so grumpy today. This was your first time too, wasn't it?"

"You've never gotten any further," Aurelia said.

"Touche." Cassius gave her a look she couldn't decipher before turning to Spike. "Perhaps I wasn't clear. If you don't help me, I'll torture your uncle until you do. He's safe and sound in the dungeon right now, but if you're going to be difficult, his cracked horn should make things interesting."

"What's to stop you from hurting him any more than you already have?"

"You think you know me so well, but you're wrong. He did that to himself. Don't believe me? Ask Spike. He knows I'm a changeling of my word."

Aurelia stepped back to look at Spike. "What's he talking about, Spike?"

Spike rolled his eyes. "He's just trying to—"

"You mean he didn't tell you about our deal?" Cassius grinned. "Come now, Spike. You didn't think you could hide your dragon nature from her forever, did you?"

"Spike?" Aurelia's voice quavered.

"He could have been raised by ponies, penguins, or pineapples. He's still a dragon, and like all dragons, he's a compulsive, greedy backstabber!" Cassius couldn't stop his anger from slipping into his voice.

Aurelia would have seen the red flag had she not been preoccupied with her own internal dilemma.

Spike had no such issue clouding his judgment, but he knew he wasn't going to win this fight with words. His next act was the only logical response to such blatant manipulation. He leaped at Cassius's throat, talons bared, and shouted, "Liar!"

Aurelia smiled despite herself. She knew Spike's claws would be stopped by the chitinous hide beneath the illusion, but the display was enough for her to see where his loyalties lay.

It was more than enough for Cassius. He levitated Spike up to eye level. "I could shatter every bone in your body with a single thought."

"Try it." Spike clawed at the air.

Cassius laughed. "You have no idea how much I'd enjoy that, but you haven't outlived your usefulness yet. You're going to help me whether you like it or not."

Aurelia pulled Spike out of the air and set him down beside her. "Stop it, Cassius. This isn't funny."

Cassius stared her down.

Aurelia stared back.

Neither blinked.

When Aurelia didn't relent after more than a minute, Cassius got bored. "Fine, have your moment," he said. "I suggest you savor it. You might not get another." He was halfway out the door when he craned his neck to fix them with a piercing glare not unlike the one the real Shining gave Twilight when she crashed his wedding rehearsal. Only Spike would have seen the connection, but he was too busy clinging to Aurelia's foreleg. "Unless you want to share a cell with one very pissed off unicorn, don't even think about escaping. My guards are everywhere, and they'll be on the lookout for the two of you."

Aurelia waited for him to leave before letting herself fall on her haunches. This was the first time she'd seen the extent of his malice, and she could only imagine what his plan entailed. She wanted to cry, but no tears came. Her body heaved all the same.

For his part, Spike had grown numb to the course his life had taken. Nothing compared to the feeling of almost losing Twilight. He'd lost her anyway, but at least she was still alive.

Aurelia wasn't so lucky.

Spike wrapped her midsection in a tight embrace, feeling how similar in texture her chitin was to his scales. He rested his head against her chest. The gesture did nothing to steady her pounding heart. He might have pulled away had she not put her forelegs around him.
> Chapter V
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Spike listened to the wind whistling past his ears as his body reached terminal velocity. He was a thousand feet off the ground with no idea how he got there. Making his best involuntary effort to close the distance, he cursed whatever cruel twist of fate had made him a wingless dragon. With his inevitable end drawing ever closer, he couldn't shake the feeling that he'd been there before. He had, of course, but the mind is not always at its sharpest in times of life and death. His adrenaline-addled state didn't change the evidence strewn over the ground, though.

He saw Ponyville—not the peaceful farming village where he'd spent the past two years, but the blasted wreck it had become in the wake of his greed-fueled transformation into an adult dragon. The collateral damage hadn't been so bad that time. This time, there was no rhyme or reason. Only wanton destruction.

Golden Oaks Library had been ripped out of the ground and hurled into the Everfree Forest. A clawed footprint was stamped into the remains of Fluttershy's cottage. The animals were gone. The town must have been evacuated, for the ponies were gone too. Nopony would come to his rescue this time.

Carousel Boutique was the only building that hadn't been reduced to rubble or consumed by the spreading yellow-green inferno. He couldn't see it without straining his head and neck back against the air pressure, but when he did, he saw that the door was open. Standing out front was a white-coated unicorn whose royal-purple mane and tail formed long, elegant curls—Rarity.

If her wide blue eyes and the hoof she held over her mouth to suppress a scream were any indication, she saw him too. He knew she couldn't save him. She probably knew it too. He doubted even Twilight had the magic to break his fall. He called out anyway, but his words were lost to the wind as he drew ever closer.

He saw Rarity clearly. His eyes fell to the fire ruby adorning the base of her neck. He remembered the day he gave it to her. He remembered her kiss. Smiling, he reached out. The earth embraced him.

The darkness was absolute. He'd expected as much. He didn't expect his eyes to adjust, revealing a carved granite ceiling. The warm body pressed against his side was another surprise, as were the hooves wrapped around him as if he were a teddy bear. He could hear the slow, steady rhythm of a changeling's heartbeat. He bolted upright and looked around. He saw the table off in the corner. The candle had long since melted over the candlestick and burned out. Surprise became relief as he remembered where he was.

He hadn't expected to wake up so intimately close to Aurelia. With all the thoughts racing through his head after Cassius's visit, that he'd managed to fall asleep was a wonder in itself. Not that he'd gotten much rest. His nightmares, many involving Rarity, saw to that.

He hadn't mentioned his crush on Rarity. It wasn't important. Then again, his feelings for Aurelia weren't much deeper. The difference, he reminded himself, was that Aurelia had feelings for him too.

He hadn't told her about the time he became an adult dragon, either. He grimaced, Cassius's words coming back to him. He couldn't help being a dragon, but that didn't mean he had to let base instinct enslave him. He could become the monster from his dream; he could even strike fear into the Princesses' hearts, but that wasn't the life he wanted. The adult dragons he'd known were spiteful, solitary creatures. Contrary to Cassius's belief, being raised by ponies had made a difference. They'd taught him the value of friends, of family. Then again, he'd already thrown away the closest thing to family he'd ever had.

He was a traitor. There were no two ways around that. He looked at Aurelia, who still lay on her side, fast asleep. Regardless of what good came of his short-sighted attempt to set things right, a lot of bad came of it too, and he couldn't live with that on his conscience. Cassius deserved whatever fate he got. Shining didn't.

Spike doubted he could save himself, much less anyone else, but he had to try. He might be able to convince Aurelia to help, but she might try to stop him. She might succeed. He couldn't afford that. He had to leave her. He reminded himself more than once that he couldn't let his feelings for someone he'd just met get in his way, but the voice in his head still nagged him for turning his back on the sole silver lining his predicament had brought. At length, he told that voice to shut up and pulled himself out of Aurelia's embrace, his claw brushing her hooves.

Aurelia giggled in her sleep. Her face took on its former serenity as he ran his claw down her neck, pushing aside a few strands of her silver mane.

He considered giving her the neck massage he'd promised, but he was certain that would wake her up. With a sigh, he got up and went to take the quill, ink, and parchment. The ability to get a message to the outside world could be invaluable.

He considered leaving Aurelia a note, but as he turned the parchment over in his hooves, he saw lines sketched over the back. He wasn't sure what he was looking at until he saw the compass rose in the corner. He smiled. She probably hadn't intended to give him a map, but he wasn't about to turn away the small blessing. He tiptoed to the entrance and took one last glance over his shoulder.

Aurelia was still sleeping, though not so peacefully. She was shivering, curled into a ball with her hooves pulled against her chest.

Spike felt a pang of guilt. He hadn't noticed the draft when they were snuggled together. Leaving the writing supplies in a pile by the door, he walked across the room, took the checkered tablecloth, and laid it over her like a blanket.

Aurelia relaxed; her shivering ceased.

Before leaving, Spike leaned in to whisper in her ear, "I'm sorry, Aurelia, but I need to set things right. It really was a pleasure meeting you."

Aurelia slept soundly until the first beams of golden light shined through the hole in the ceiling and alighted on her face. She rolled onto her stomach and stretched out her limbs. Changelings often slept on bedrock, but that didn't make them any less stiff afterward. Pulling her forelegs under herself, she rose to a sitting position, pushed her bangs out of her eyes, and gazed out the impromptu skylight. She'd never been beyond the fog, so the little glimmer of cloudless blue and the light that trickled through were like nothing she'd ever seen.

"It's beautiful," she said. When no response came, she looked down to see if Spike was still asleep. She noticed the tablecloth draped over her back.

"Spike?" She twisted around to scan the room. Spike was gone, as were the writing supplies. Not having wanted to keep the Equestrian ambassador waiting, she had grabbed the first sheet of parchment she could find. That happened to be a map of the lower level of the hive. It hadn't seemed important at the time, but as snippets of their altercation with Cassius came back to her, so did a familiar constriction in her chest. "Oh Spike, what have you gotten yourself into?"

She bolted out of the cavern. She couldn't impress an earth pony with her magic, but she was nothing if not athletic. By the time the tablecloth settled to the ground, she had already disappeared down the tunnel.


***


Spike didn't get far before a patrolling group of guards spotted him.

To his bafflement, they didn't try to stop him. They hardly noticed him.

The one that did wore an expression of such utter disinterest that a dragon sneaking through their hive must have been the most mundane thing she'd ever seen.

Spike felt insulted. Either the guards didn't consider him a threat or they hadn't received word yet. Then again, Cassius had said they would be looking for Spike and Aurelia. Maybe leaving her behind was for the best. As more patrols came and went without incident, Spike stopped trying to hide.

Passing through several more winding tunnels, he realized the map didn't correspond to any of them. Seeing a lone changeling curled up against the wall, Spike asked him how to get to the dungeon.

The changeling said the map was for the bottom level, plucked a still-glowing mushroom off the wall, gave Spike directions along with the mushroom, and went back to sleep.

Several miles and crude flights of stairs later, Spike found the dungeon entrance. He crumpled the map over the mushroom and peeked inside. The darkness was almost absolute, but his reptilian eyes could still make out rough shapes, none of which were guards. He uncovered the mushroom, held it up like a torch, and entered.

The patter of his scaly feet against bedrock broke the deathly silence as he walked along the row of cages lining the far wall. Most were empty, but a few harbored equine skeletons. No flesh clung to their bones, but the ways they were broken spoke of the violent deaths their owners had received. Further down, he saw a lumpy shadow. As he got closer, he began to notice a curious smell. He didn't recognize it until the light from the mushroom washed up against a disfigured corpse. Recoiling, he threw the mushroom away. His stomach tried to clamber out his throat. Had it succeeded, the sight would have paled in comparison to the spectacle that had just etched itself into his retinas.

From what he gathered, the corpse had once been a cream-coated pegasus pony mare. Magic had seared off her cutie mark and much of her fur, leaving bubbly, blackened skin. Stubs of bone caked with dried blood stuck out where her wings should have been, and her head was twisted at an unnatural angle, her face forever locked in wide-eyed, open-mouthed terror. Worst of all, he knew the same fate would befall Shining if they didn't escape.

Spike resorted to clinking his claw against the bars in hopes of waking any prisoners that might still be alive, for much of his visual acuity had gone the way of the mushroom.

Finally, at the far end, a silhouetted unicorn stirred.

Spike didn't notice until he heard hooves clopping against stone. Turning around in time to see the unicorn stand, he asked, "Shining?"

"Yeah," Shining said. "Who are you?"

Spike remembered how limited ponies' night vision was, as evinced by the many nights Twilight had planted her face into the library's bathroom door when she'd forgotten to cast an illumination spell. "It's me, Spike. I'm—"

"Spike? What are you doing here? Don't you know what Cassius will do if he finds us?"

Spike shuddered at the vivid memory of the pegasus pony mare. "Believe me, I know. That's why I can't leave you here. Now tell me how to open this door."

Shining sighed. "There's a set of keys on a rack by the entrance."

"Got it." Spike sprinted to the entrance. The mushroom had landed nearby. Its glow was fading, but enough remained to reflect off the loop of wrought-iron keys that hung from a rusty hook in the wall. He snatched the keys, raced back to the cage, and scrambled to open the lock. He tried one after another, but none of them fit. Finally, he got the door open. He ran inside and hugged Shining's foreleg, only to realize that it was still shackled.

"Well done, Little Brother," a magically amplified voice came from everywhere at once, "but how do you intend to get those shackles off? You won't find the keys down here, I'm afraid."

Shining winced as the din drove another railroad spike into his aching head. Not one to be outdone, he stepped out of the cage and roared, "Show yourself, changeling scum!"

Spike followed, staying by Shining's side.

Malicious laughter filled the dungeon, slowly dying as the amplification faded and the source was revealed. Cassius stood by the entrance. The glow from the discarded mushroom painted ghoulish shadows on his face as he spoke. "Here I am, Shiny Dearest. Come and—"

A rock cracked him on the back of his skull with a hollow thud. He crumbled to the ground as a changeling stepped over him.

Another followed and said to the first, "Thank you."

"My pleasure, Ma'am," he replied. He dragged Cassius's unconscious form to the side and took position by the door

The second changeling turned to Spike and Shining. Her horn lit up with an illumination spell, revealing her braided, silvery locks.

Shining held his ground but said nothing.

Spike grinned. "You're a sight for sore eyes, Aurelia," he said. "If you hadn't—"

"Free Shining and let's get out of here," Aurelia said. With her magic, she tossed him a loop of polished steel keys.

Spike caught the keys and set to work. "I'm sorry I left you, Aurelia. I—"

"I'm not ready to forgive you, and Cassius could wake up at any minute."

"You know this changeling?" Shining asked. His hooves were free.

"Long story," Spike said. When he got to Shining's horn, he saw the spider-web crack running up the base. Cassius had mentioned it, but seeing it was another matter. "Shining, your horn..."

Shining winced as Spike removed the clasp. "Yeah, it's about as bad as it looks, but I'll be fine. I just have to lay off the magic for awhile."

Aurelia trotted over. "Ready?"

"Yeah, we're ready," Spike said.

"Good." Aurelia turned to the side. "Get on."

"What?"

"I'm not letting you fall behind and get captured while you still owe me an explanation. Get on my back and I'll carry you."

"All right." Spike climbed on. Aurelia's smooth chitin didn't lend itself to traction, so he had to cling to her neck to keep from falling off. "Listen, Aurelia, I really am—"

"Spike?"

"Yeah?"

"Shut up." Aurelia galloped out of the dungeon and down the tunnel.

Despite his fatigue, Shining followed close behind.

Cassius staggered to his hooves seconds too late. He saw the changeling guarding the door and asked, "Where are the prisoners?"

"They're escaping with the Ambassador, Sir," the changeling replied, steeping the last word in sarcasm.

"What?" Cassius couldn't have heard that right. "Why aren't you chasing them?"

The changeling looked him in the eye and smirked. "Cassius, you don't pay me enough to chase prisoners."

"Damn every one of you!" Cassius shouted, cantering out of the dungeon.


***


With Spike on her back, Aurelia lead Shining through the hive toward the abandoned tunnels that housed the embassy. If the maps she'd seen while rifling through Cassius's quarters for Shining's shackle keys were to be believed, the long, straight tunnel that lead past the embassy opened into the mouth of an old mineshaft on the Equestrian side of the Badlands. Cassius having maps in the first place meant he was unfamiliar with the upper level of the hive. If she was lucky, he hadn't had time to study them.

Emerging from the narrow cave after prying apart the weathered planks that blocked the exit, she made a dash across the barren plain toward the distant tree line.

Shining followed close behind.

Aurelia was amazed that he'd kept pace despite his injuries. He hadn't been named Captain of Celestia's Royal Guard for nothing. They might have enjoyed a race had they met under better circumstances.

She dove behind a bush and poked her head out to scan the area for any sign of Cassius or his guards. When none was forthcoming, she let herself relax. Her eyes began to adjust to the bright, natural light radiating from the afternoon sun. She noticed her surroundings.

The sky she'd first seen from that little crack in the embassy ceiling now covered everything above ground level. The great circle of light was the first particular to catch her eye, but she soon learned what a poor idea staring at it was. The afterimage stayed in her retinas as she looked around at the wispy white clouds drifting overhead.

She followed one as it became thicker and wrapped around the tip of a bleached orange peak, one of the many that formed a long, jagged mountain range as far as the eye could see. The Badlands were the only sight she recognized, but even they showed a side she hadn't seen before.

Further down, she could make out the tiny crack in the cliff face from which she'd come. The savanna extended a short distance before blending into the flora where she stood. The trees, grass, and bushes all looked lifeless compared to what she'd seen in the fog. When none moved save for the wind's encouragement, she was sure some plague had passed over the region and wiped them all out. That would explain why she couldn't find the analogues for the more exotic plants.

Had she been familiar with the passing of the seasons, she'd have recognized the beginning of autumn. Nevertheless, she soaked in each unfamiliar sight with wide-eyed wonder.

Spike had dismounted and propped himself up against the base of a tree. He dropped the writing supplies by his side, put his arms around his knees, and checked his traveling companions.

The flood of adrenaline gone, Shining had collapsed to the ground. He lay panting and wheezing. The crack on his horn was less pronounced now that the light had washed away the shadows.

Spike didn't know how horn injuries differed from those of other bones, but the situation looked hopeful. He turned to Aurelia, who was still gazing in silence at the mountains, sky, and trees like the Cutie Mark Crusaders had the time Twist found that white-spotted-red mushroom and they decided to see if it tasted like peppermint candy.

Aurelia hadn't started contemplating her hooves yet, so he assumed there was a more mundane reason. Perhaps the scenery was just that interesting. He looked around. That he recognized the mountainous region to the south came as no surprise, for he'd been there during the last dragon migration. What did come as a surprise was that he was in the very same forest where he'd found his pet phoenix, Pewee.

Having caught his breath, Shining was the first to break the silence. "Hey Aurelia, you all right?"

"Yeah," Aurelia whispered. After a few seconds, she turned to face him. "This is all so new. Mother always told me the world beyond the fog was dangerous."

"She was right. The dragon migration has passed, but a few stragglers still live in those mountains." Shining gestured to the Badlands. "I doubt Cassius will let you back, so if you plan on going any deeper into Equestrian territory, you'll want to put on a disguise."

"About that..." Aurelia mumbled something incomprehensible and hung her head.

"I didn't catch that."

"I can't."

Shining's brow furrowed. "Why not?"

Aurelia looked aside and ruffled her wings. Her ears drooped. "I don't know how."

Shining opened his mouth, but whatever words he had died in his throat. All changelings knew illusion magic. It was one of their natural abilities like pegasus ponies' weather magic.

"That's why Chrysalis kept you inside," Spike said.

Aurelia glared at him. "She wasn't keeping me prisoner, if that's what you're implying. She was trying to protect me."

"I wasn't—"

"Thank you, Aurelia," Shining said. Pounding his hooves against miles of bedrock had done nothing to ease his headache. If Spike and Aurelia wanted to bicker, they could wait until Shining was out of earshot.

Aurelia stared at Shining in confusion, her indignation forgotten.

"For saving us," he added. "We'd both be at Cassius's mercy if not for you."

Aurelia blushed. "Oh, well, you're welcome."

"That said, you and Spike are still enemies of Equestria. As one of Celestia's Royal Guards, I'm obligated to place you under arrest."

Aurelia felt her heart sink. She contemplated fleeing but remembered she had nowhere left to go. Even if other changelings disagreed with Cassius, there was no place for her back home while he was still in power.

"So that's how it is," Spike said. "We busted you out of jail, and now you're going to arrest us."

"No," Shining said. "I'm going to return to Canterlot and report to Princess Celestia. I'll tell her my injuries prevented me from apprehending you before you could escape. After that, I'll file my resignation."

"You'd give up your life's work to save us?" Aurelia asked.

"I'm not doing this for you." Shining sighed. "I'm doing this because it can't be any other way. Being locked away in Cassius's dungeon gave me a lot of time to sit and think. I thought about why Twilight would oppose me, why Spike would betray me, and why I would suggest this mission in the first place. In the end, I realized I was no less monstrous than Cassius."

"What do you mean?"

"You may not know what war looks like, but I do, and this isn't it. The only real battle was during my wedding, and that was before Cassius came to power. Celestia saw him as a terrorist. Nothing more. As for me, I saw him as another bug to be squashed. Killing Chrysalis wasn't good enough. As long as there was still someone to follow in her hoofsteps, my revenge felt empty."

Aurelia had put two and two together once Shining had acknowledged that he was the groom at the royal wedding. His casual mention of having killed her mother only rubbed more salt in the wound. Aurelia considered herself a pacifist as changelings went, and while she knew both what her mother had done and why, all Aurelia's willpower was barely enough to resist the urge to thrust her twisted horn through his neck. Aurelia ground her hooves into the dirt, took a deep breath to steady her nerves, and said in a low, cold voice, "I think you'd better go."

Shining kept his eyes on Aurelia and took an involuntary step back. "I know it doesn't mean much now, but I'm sorry. I wish I could go back and do things differently, but I can't. None of us can. That's why I'm giving up my life's work."

Aurelia was on the verge of tears. "Please, just go."

Shining nodded, turned, and didn't look back as he began making tracks toward Ponyville, where he hoped to find a guard patrol and take the next carriage to Canterlot.

Aurelia lay down in the dry, crinkly underbrush, rested her head in her hooves, and stared off into the distance.

Spike, who had been watching in silence as the scene unfolded, went to offer her a hug.

Aurelia buzzed her wings in a warning gesture. "Stay away from me."

Spike walked around and sat in front of her. "I'm sorry."

Aurelia got up and walked a distance into the forest. Her gaze fixed on a bird's nest tucked into the branches of a bronze-leaved tree. "I know you are, and I know you didn't want to, but you did, and that's not going to stop hurting anytime soon."

Spike got up and crossed his arms. "What do you want me to say?"

Aurelia turned around. "How about why you abandoned me?"

Spike stepped forward so he had to crane his neck to meet her eyes. "I was fixing my mistake. Had I known what a rapid dog Legate Cassius was before I sent that stupid letter, he'd have been put down, Shining would be going home to Cadence in one piece, I'd be helping Twilight write a friendship report or something, and you'd be leading the hive however you saw fit."

Aurelia walked around him toward the tree line. "I could have let Cassius get killed too, but I didn't. Mother wouldn't want that. That's not what I asked, though. I want to know why you didn't take me with you. If I hadn't come looking for you, Cassius would have drawn and quartered you and Shining."

"How was I supposed to know you wouldn't interfere? I couldn't risk that."

Aurelia gave Spike an incredulous look. "You're a horrible judge of character if you thought there was the slightest chance of me trying to stop you."

"That's not true."

"Oh, so you don't trust me. Is that it?"

"I do trust you!"

"Your actions say otherwise. If that's what you think of me, fine." Aurelia spread her wings. "You'll never see me again."

"Aurelia, wait!"

Aurelia took off into the clear blue sky and soared over the peaks of the Badlands. Going back through the tunnel would have been safer, but Spike might try to follow her. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a blur of motion coming up on her right.

"Aurelia!"

Before Aurelia could berate Spike for following her, she remembered he didn't have wings. She looked toward the oncoming creature. It was a red teenage dragon with an orange Mohawk, eyes of hellfire, and glistening fangs. Her wings locked up. 
The dragon snatched her in his claws, breaking her fall.

Aurelia screamed.

Spike could only watch as the dragon carried her off into a mountain cave. Later, he could decide whether this too was his fault. First, he had to get help. He looked around for the writing supplies. They were at the base of the tree where he left them. Thanking Celestia for small favors, he ripped the map into strips along the lines where he'd folded it, swished the quill in the ink, and wrote a note. Without bothering to proofread, he enveloped the note in yellow-green flames. A heap of ashes fell to the ground.

"That's weird." He frowned. "I guess my focus was off." He still had three strips of parchment, so he scratched another note, took care to focus on no one but Twilight, and sent it to its destination. Another heap of ashes joined the first before a biting wind blew them away.

"Why isn't this working? The only other time..." Realization hit him like a hoof to the stomach—something was blocking his magic. Celestia had said she would fortify the guard in Ponyville. She must have cast a ward on the entire area. His claw shaking, he scribbled another note. Not caring that his writing was nigh illegible and rife with errors, he blasted the note with ethereal fire while he was still holding it. His fire-proof scales prevented his claw from getting burnt just like the ward prevented his message from getting through. Ashes sifted through his talons; tears poured from his eyes. He slammed his fists into the ground, howling curses that would make the most hardened sailor blush.

The racket drew the attention of a nearby phoenix, who alighted on the ground in front of him. She cooed at him with the soft firmness of a parent soothing a distraught child.

Spike raised his head. Her fiery plumage entranced him, halting his verbal assault on the hand of fate. Looked into her radiant yellow eyes, he recognized her as Pewee's mother.

The phoenix gestured to the last strip of parchment and cocked her head.

Spike grinned and hugged her.

The phoenix patted his shoulder with her wingtip before withdrawing.

Spike scratched one more note, slightly more legible than the last, folded it, and offered it to her. "Take this to Twilight Sparkle at Golden Oaks Library in Ponyville."

The phoenix nodded and took the note in her claw.

Spike smiled and wiped away a few stray tears as she spread her beautiful wings and shot into the northern sky like a firework. He wasn't out of the woods yet, literally or figuratively, but for the first time in days, he had a feeling things might turn out all right.
> Chapter VI
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Golden Oaks Library was the largest tree house outside the bat pony village of Hollow Shades—hard to miss for anyone who knew where Ponyville was. The phoenix had followed her son there the night Spike had taken him away. Owloysius's mediation had helped to sort that mess out, and she had visited on friendlier terms several times since. Today's visit, however, was strictly business.

She saw the sun setting to the west as she flew 45 degrees to its right, leaving the misty summits of Macintosh Hills in her wake. Passing over Appleloosa's sprawling orchards, she saw farmer ponies returning from a long day in the fields to share a glass of cider, or applejack if the day's hardships warranted, with their coworkers.

The farmers looked up and swung their hats in the air as she swept past like a low-flying comet. In a world where mythological creatures were commonplace, phoenixes still had a special place in the hearts of the citizens.

The phoenix cawed and banked into a barrel roll before setting her sights on the railroad track, which she followed out of town, across the bridge, and over the river that cut through Ghastly Gorge.

The leviathan quarray eels poked their cherry-red heads out of their burrows in the cliff face to look up at her with mixed expressions of hunger and curiosity. 
The phoenix dived to meet them, pulling up just in time to avoid their snapping maws. For some reason, teasing the quarray eels was a universal pastime among Equestria's fliers.

She continued to ascend above the cloud cover so as to avoid the pungent odor carried up on the wind as she turned left to pass over Froggy Bottom Bog. She kept her altitude as the Everfree Forest's canopy crawled beneath her—still green, as the forest was aloof to the passing of the seasons.

Phoenixes were among Equestria's apex predators, but even they knew better than to flaunt their tail feathers in front of the Everfree's denizens. Like a magpie, however, a phoenix's curiosity often got the better of her. When she saw a wisp of smoke snaking through the treetops, she had to fight the urge to swoop in and investigate. She knew how crazy most ponies were, but to set up camp in the forest was suicide.

In the end, her sense of duty won the day. Having worked for the postal service in a past life, she would let neither smoke nor fire stop her delivering the letter. She hadn't bothered reading the letter, but if it meant getting Spike and his disturbing variety of profanities out of her peaceful forest home, that was enough for her. She wondered if he was the kind of character she wanted raising her son, but the sight of Ponyville on the horizon as the last rays of sunlight slithered away banished the thought.

Meanwhile, Twilight was fighting to open her front door, only to realize that she'd locked it before she'd left. Not wanting to sift through her saddle bags in search of the key, which she'd never had use for in the past, she summoned her telekinesis and fumbled with the tumblers until they slid into place. The door swung open.

Her so-very-helpful pegasus pony bodyguards—another of Celestia's well-intended but needless precautions—exchanged glances, taking mental note of the ease with which a changeling could sneak in and kill her while they slept. The ward interfered with the changelings' fire portals and illusion magic, but the guards, even the unicorns, weren't beyond suspecting one another of being changelings in disguise. One had even suggested that he keep watch while Twilight bathes in case a changeling assassin was lying in wait.

Twilight drew the line there. She told him in no uncertain terms that she could take care of herself, and demonstrated by telekinetically throwing him out of the library, letting the door hit him on the way out. That was the first time she'd seen a mirthful smile cross the features of her remaining guard, a weathered veteran from some long-forgotten conflict or other.

The veteran wasn't stoic. She'd even seen him smile once if she could count the slasher grin he flashed Roseluck when asked how he got the scar on his neck. Twilight was tempted to have him replaced as well, but he'd mellowed out since then. He was still intimidating, but more in the back-off-and-nopony-gets-hurt sense than the I'm-going-to-cut-your-face sense. How a pony like him got into Celestia's Royal Guard was beyond her.

"You did well today," Twilight told him, hanging her saddlebags on a hook by the wall and levitating out the vegetables she'd bought at the market. Onions, carrots, tomatoes, and a head of lettuce floated after her as she trotted into the kitchen to start a pot of water boiling.

"Thank you, Ma'am," the veteran replied.

Twilight poked her head back into the main room in time to catch him smirking at his rookie partner, who flinched and backed away.

"Let's see. You intimidated three ponies today, only one of which ran away screaming. That's a 33 percent improvement over yesterday. I think the whole not-talking thing has done wonders for your charisma. Of course, you'd do even better if you could go a whole conversation without mentioning your scars."

The veteran rubbed a hoof along the rough, hairless patch of skin that stretched from his jugular vein to his throat. "If you caught ponies staring as much as I do, you'd call them out too."

"I could ask Rarity to make a scarf for you. If you stay for the fitting, she might even give you a few lessons in etiquette."

The veteran laughed, not catching her hint as a gust of wind upset the notes on Twilight's coffee table. They comprised what little information her books had yielded about changeling culture and biology, though references to changeling history were nonexistent.

"Close the door, would you?" Twilight asked, coming back into the room to reorganize her notes.

The veteran turned to the door just as a phoenix with a roll of gray parchment clutched in her talons swooped in and perched on Twilight's head.

Twilight looked up. "Oh, hey there."

The phoenix leaned over to meet Twilight's gaze.

The veteran bristled.

"Relax," Twilight said, giving him a look, "she's just here to visit Pewee. Isn't that right?"

The phoenix held the note out for Twilight to see.

"Oh? What's this?" Twilight took it in her magic, unrolled it, and began reading.

The phoenix disappeared upstairs in search of Pewee.

Once Twilight recognized Spike's handwriting, for it was unusually bad, she gasped and dropped the note.

"What is it?" the rookie asked, the first words he'd said since earlier that day when the veteran had told him exactly what they would do if another changeling made an attempt on her life.

He'd barely finished his sentence when Twilight teleported away in a blinding burst of purple energy.

"Trouble," the veteran answered. He picked up the note and read it. "She's headed to the Badlands."

"Isn't that dragon territory?" the rookie asked.

"Bingo." The veteran gritted his teeth. He threw the door open, spread his bleached wings, and took off into the sky without bothering to see if his partner was following. The flapping of another set of wings, faster than his but keeping the same pace, told him the answer. Unlike the phoenix, he took the direct route over the ruins of the Castle of the Royal Pony Sisters.

"How do you know the way?" the rookie asked.

The veteran didn't answer.

Meanwhile, a flash of light chased away the darkness that had spread over the forest beyond the Badlands. The light dispersed as fast as it had arrived, leaving a purple unicorn with a frazzled, singed mane in its wake.

The unicorn wore the shell-shocked expression of a pony who'd gone sightseeing in Tartarus. Not beyond the realm of possibility was that her latent neurosis was the result of the mind-bending glimpses of extra-dimensional space she got whenever she teleported. Theories abound about what might happen if a pony got lost in that space, never to return to the world as we know it.

She stood as still as the time she'd faced down a cockatrice. She collapsed to the ground when she realized her legs had ceased supporting her. Exhausted and disoriented, she looked around to find herself exactly where she'd intended. Not even melded with a tree.

Long-distance teleportation had been documented, but it was a taxing, dangerous feat no matter the skill of the unicorn. Had she given any thought to what she was doing, she'd never have found the nerve to actually do it. Mentally patting herself on the back, she resigned to a nice, long nap. A century or two of shuteye would do her a world of good. Rather, it would have if not for the incessant, disharmonious cries of a nearby bird.

As the bird's squawking grew in volume, depriving the unicorn of her well-earned rest, she decided to tell the bird exactly what she thought of it, its mother, and its atrocious singing.

When the unicorn raised her head, however, the bird wrapped itself around her neck like a warm, scaly scarf. She realized it was a snake. Too exhausted to panic, she resigned herself to being strangled, only to realize that it wasn't a snake, but a dragon, a green and purple dragon. 

Having seen the flash of light and recognized it as the aftermath of teleportation magic, Spike had emerged from his makeshift shelter in the base of a hollow tree trunk and rushed to the source of the light, where he found her laying on the ground and muttering something incoherent.

Once the rational part of her mind came back from its lunch break, Twilight—that was her name, she'd remembered—felt a wave of euphoria crash over her as she realized what'd happened, where she was, and who was hugging her. She sprang to her hooves.

Spike might have fallen off had she not swept him, herself, and several fallen leaves up in a levitation field that filled the forest with a pale purple glow.

Lost in the moment, Twilight held him to her chest and kissed him as they pirouetted in midair. She realized what she'd just done. With a blush that would have made the pinkest flamingo jealous, she settled back to the ground and looked aside, rubbing her right foreleg with the left even as she panted for air. Though the tension and worry that'd built up in her mind since the day she woke up alone in that hospital room had burned away, her exhaustion remained.

"It's good to see you too, Twilight," Spike said, hugging her leg.

Looking down, Twilight saw that he was blushing too, but he showed no other sign of discomfort. Remembering how tired she was, she eased herself back to ground level. For a while, she didn't speak, opting instead to enjoy the retreating tide of her sudden high as she caught her breath. She doubted the fluttering in her chest would have let her say anything coherent anyway, as evinced by her first thought, which was to tell him what a terrible excuse for a bird he was.

Finally, Spike broke the silence. "Did you teleport all the way from Ponyville?"

"Well, I was at the library, I got your note, and now I'm here. My mane is singed. I haven't checked, but my tail probably is too."

"It is," Spike confirmed.

"Right, so given the circumstances, I think that's exactly what I did."

"I had no idea you could teleport that far."

"Me neither. We'd better get the Guineighs Book of Equestrian Records on the phone; I think I just set a new record for long-distance teleportation."

"Too bad the only one around to see it was an enemy of Equestria." Spike paused. "What's a phone?"

Twilight frowned, sitting up to look at him. "What are you talking about?"

"You said something about a phone. Do you mean a gramophone? I didn't think the Guineighs Book dealt with that kind of record."

"No, I..." Twilight realized she had no idea what she'd been talking about. She vaguely remembered Pinkie using a similar phrase and resolved to ask her about it later. "Never mind. I meant how are you an enemy of Equestria. They didn't interrogate you, did they? Even if they did, it's not like you know anything they could use."

"Actually..." Spike began, letting go.

Twilight's heart sank. "They did? You do?"

Spike ground the toes of his left foot into the dirt beneath the underbrush. "Don't quote me on this, but I may have sent a letter to Legate Cassius that night in the hospital. In that letter, I may have disclosed information about Shining's mission in hopes of bringing him back to the negotiating table. That information may have gotten Shining killed."

Twilight stared at him, unblinking. All expression was gone from her face. She looked a shade paler than usual, though he couldn't say for certain whether it wasn't just the moonlight. The only indication that she hadn't turned into a statue was a slight twitch in her right eye.

Spike stood there, cringing as he waited for her to tear into him, verbally or physically.

Twilight did nothing.

After a while, Spike began to worry less for his own safety and more for her sanity. "Uh, Twilight?" He waved his claw in front of her eyes. "Are you okay?"

Twilight burst out laughing. She rolled onto her back and laughed until she cried. Then she just kept crying.

Spike didn't know what to say. Not at first. He walked around and held her in his arms, his cheek pressed against hers. When her tears began to subside, he said, "I tried to set things right. I failed. Celestia was right; we can't always do the right thing."

"No, Celestia was wrong. You said you may have gotten him killed. That means he may still be alive, right?" Twilight rolled onto her stomach and lifted her head so she could look him in the eye. "Right?"

Spike realized how poor his choice of words had been. "Of course. After we escaped together, he left for Canterlot. You probably just missed him."

"All right, so you made a mistake, a big one, and you'll have to answer for it, but not right now. No, right now, I'm just glad you and Shining are okay." Twilight hugged Spike.

"Shining wasn't so lucky."

Twilight groaned and pulled away. "You just said—"

"He got out, but not without a cracked horn."

Twilight fixed Spike with a clinical stare. "Cracked or broken?"

"Cracked."

"He didn't use any magic, did he?"

"No, why?"

Twilight sighed in relief. "A cracked horn is an unstable one. Using magic would have made the damage worse. Not to mention the pain."

"The same goes for medical magic, I assume."

Twilight nodded. "How did you two escape without magic, though?"

Spike felt around on the ground for a place to sit as an excuse to delay his answer. He had no idea how she would feel about Aurelia, and he wasn't sure he wanted to find out. Remembering why he'd sent the note in the first place, he realized he had no choice. "We had help."

"From who, another prisoner?"

"Another changeling."

Twilight tried to laugh. "You're joking."

"Cassius sent me to meet her after he captured Shining. He said she was in charge of foreign relations, but he just wanted to keep me busy while he dealt with Shining. This other changeling, though, she was different. She seemed to want the war to be over as much as we do."

"You're not joking," Twilight said, more for her benefit than Spike's. "Does she have a name?"

"Funny you should ask; most changelings don't. Hers was Aurelia."

"Aurelia, huh?" Twilight took on the expression she usually did when solving a difficult equation.

"What?"

"By any chance, did you read that book on Old Equestrian I gave you?"

"No."

Twilight frowned. "Well, if you had, you'd know that Cassius, Aurelia, and Chrysalis are Old Equestrian names." She mused, "I wonder why changelings don't have their own language?"

"What does that mean?"

"I don't know, maybe they didn't need one, being a hive mind and all."

"I meant the names. What do they mean? You understand Old Equestrian, I assume."

"'Cassius' means 'empty,' for one."

"Talk about a meaningful name."

"You'd know better than I."

"What about Aurelia?"

"'Aurelia' means 'golden,' which is also what 'Chrysalis' means, so if their names are as symbolic as Cassius's, she might not be as innocent as she's lead you to believe."

"I'd know better than you."

"Would you?"

"How much do you know about changeling history?"

Twilight's ears drooped slightly. "I haven't been able to find any information about it."

"Aurelia told me changelings had no choice but to turn to the role we know them for. That's how they got their name, which is also Equestrian. Is it not?"

"That's right. The term comes from an old fairy tale, but the only similarity to Chrysalis and her kin is behavioral"

"Chrysalis met with Celestia on peaceful terms long before the attack on Canterlot. They couldn't come to a resolution, so the changelings got desperate."

"Did Aurelia tell you that too?"

"You don't believe me."

"Honestly, I don't know what to believe. I have no reason to trust a changeling, but Princess Celestia hasn't exactly been forthright with us either. Next chance I get, I'm going to have a word with her about all this. First, I'd like to talk to Aurelia. Where is she?"

"Well, we sort of got in a fight earlier. She accused me of betraying her trust and flew back across the border, but a dragon caught her. That's why I called you here."

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"You were in no condition to help. If the dragon was going to eat her, he would have done so already."

"I love you, Spike, but as Rainbow Dash would say, you can be a real featherbrain. Whatever he wants with her, it can't be good. The dragons left behind after the migration are vicious even by the standards of their own kind. Which way did they go?"

Spike pointed to a mountain cave just visible from the moonlight reflecting off it. "In there."

Twilight began to charge her horn. "Get beside me."

"You just teleported halfway across Equestria. Are you sure doing so again so soon is a good idea?"

"It's not, and I don't care. I may not trust Aurelia, but she saved you and Shining. I'm not going to let another minute go by without returning the favor. If you want to help, I suggest you hold on to me." Twilight held her hoof out.

Spike took it in his claw.

Twilight lit her horn up like a firecracker. An orb of magic enveloped them, fading a second later. Nothing was left in its wake but a few smoldering leaves, which burned out before they touched the ground. 

Meanwhile, another orb had formed and evaporated at the mouth of the cave, leaving a unicorn and a dragon in its wake. Both orbs were visible from the sky, where a pair of pegasus pony guards were coming in fast.


***


Aurelia cracked open her eyelids and found herself facing the floor, where her braided mane was dangling no more than a hoof's length above the beginnings of a campfire. The smell of roasted meat mixed with burnt fur wafted over from somewhere nearby. Looking around, she saw firelight flickering off the cave's orange walls, but not the source of the smell. Feeling something tight wrapped around her legs, she looked up to see that four tendrils of the gnarled vines hanging from the ceiling were responsible. She would have fallen to the ground, but the vines found purchase in the holes in her hooves. She twisted her head up to what would be its proper position were she standing and saw, through the window of her hind legs, the dragon that had torn her from the sky.

The dragon, who was sitting by the campfire and munching on the dismembered haunch of what may have once resembled a mountain goat, looked back at her.

Realizing the implications of her tail not obscuring her field of view, Aurelia blushed.

"Took you long enough," the dragon said through a mouthful of what may have once resembled a mountain goat's haunch. "What with all the blood rushing to your head. You changelings must have weird biology." He pronounced the last word as if it stretched his vocabulary.

As he showed no indication of having noticed the cause of her embarrassment, Aurelia got to thinking that decorating his ceiling with attractive mares, to use the pony term, must be a regular thing for him. That brought its own set of things she didn't want to think about, but it begged a certain question. "What are you going to do with me?"

"I'm not going to eat you, if that's what you're asking. Not right now, anyway. This goat is plenty filling." The dragon ripped off another chunk of seared flesh. It spurted blood as he swallowed it whole.

Aurelia winced. She understood his being a predator, but he didn't have to make such a show of it. "Why did you take me, then?"

The dragon tossed the haunch into the bed of coals, sending up a flurry of sparks as the flames licked at what he hadn't finished. "I haven't taken you, but now that you mention it..."

He had noticed, then. Aurelia blushed deeper. "Not what I meant."

The dragon got up and walked around her. He took her head in his claw.

Aurelia disliked the physical contact, but having him out from behind her was a welcome change.

"I never had a changeling before, and I wanted to see how you'd taste, but then I got tired of waiting for you to wake up and found something else to eat, so now I don't know what to do with you." The dragon looked thoughtful. His claw drifted to where her neck met her head, tightening. "I could always snap your neck and save you for breakfast."

"Please don't," Aurelia whined.

The dragon gave her a toothy smile. "I'll tell you what: you answer a few questions for me, and I'll let you live a little longer. Deal?"

Aurelia nodded, her eyes starting to water.

The dragon let go and walked around to sit on a rock beside her. "First of all, tell me what a pretty thing like you is doing so far from home."

Aurelia didn't bother lifting her head; her neck was still sore. "I was helping my friend escape the hive." She amended, "'Former friend,' I should say."

The dragon leaned back until his orange spines flexed against the cave wall. "I see. Would this 'former friend' happen to be a little purple dragon by any chance?"

Aurelia looked at him curiously. "Do you know him?"

The dragon laughed mirthlessly. "He's a 'former friend' of mine too. In fact, he's the reason I'm stuck here."

Aurelia was silent. She wanted to be skeptical, not least because of how he reminded her of Cassius. Given her revealing conversation with Spike earlier that day, however, she felt compelled to hear the dragon.

When the dragon realized she wasn't going to ask, he continued, "Spike showed up to the migration one day and suggested to me and my buddies that we go snatch some phoenix eggs and make ourselves an omelet. Since the elders don't like us pissing off the phoenixes—"

"Why did you listen?"

The dragon frowned. "I'm getting to that. See, we dragons take our pride pretty damn seriously. For us, getting branded a coward is worse than getting kicked out of the migration. So anyway, Spike ditched us. He must have gone back to tell the elders before he disappeared with his pony pals, because when we got back, I got blamed."

"How do you know the phoenixes didn't turn you in?"

The dragon growled. "Because they'd know I was innocent!"

Aurelia had a feeling he was stretching the truth, but decided playing along was in her best interest. "I can't believe I fell for that bastard," she mumbled.

The dragon coughed. "Beg pardon?" he asked, another phrase he must have picked up in his travels, for it clearly didn't suit him.

"You heard me. That's why I went against Cassius's wishes and got myself kicked out of the hive—I was in love. You know what I got in return? I got to find out—after the fact, of course—that he never trusted me in the first place." Aurelia told herself she was putting on an act, but her anger was real. "He stabbed me in the back like he's done to all his other so-called friends. I guess that's just dragon nature for you—no offense."

"None taken. You're right; dragons are jerks, but most of us are more honest jerks. I guess he got that from his pony upbringing." The dragon paused, taking on that thoughtful expression that looked so out of place on him. "You're an outcast too, huh?"

Aurelia sighed. Memories of her home flooded back to her—thoughts of what could have been. Maybe she could have swayed Cassius after all. He seemed to take a fancy to her, and he was actually likable before he filled his empty head with designs of war. "Yeah, I guess I am."

The dragon stood abruptly, almost nervously, in contrast with his devious, menacing grin. "That settles it, then."

Aurelia felt uneasy. In her reminiscence, she hadn't noticed his eyes beginning to wander. "Settles what?"

The dragon walked around behind her and began untying the vines that held her hind legs aloft. "I know what to do with you."

Aurelia didn't ask. She knew the answer.

The dragon felt the need to elaborate anyway. Perhaps talking helped his nervousness—or excitement. Whichever it was. "Like I said, I never had a changeling before. Considering Spike's age, I assume you've never had a dragon before. It'll be a learning experience."

Even if, in light of having her fate all but spelled out for her, Aurelia could have enjoyed the relief of having the pressure on her legs released, she had no time to, for a moment later, his claws clamped around her legs, spreading them wide. She wanted to protest, to squirm. Her body wouldn't listen. Even if it did, she doubted he would.

"I'll admit, you had me worried for a moment, but now that I get a closer look, I'm glad to see you resemble a pony in more ways than one."

With all the half thoughts prancing through her head, Aurelia had to look up to see what the dragon was talking about. Following his gaze, she blushed scarlet. She tried to close her legs, to tuck her tail, anything to hide herself from his thieving eyes, but he was too strong.

For some reason, her mind decided this was a good time for a stroll down memory lane. She recalled what Chrysalis had told her. For a changeling, pleasure came from her partner's love. The act was secondary. Aurelia felt no love from the dragon—not even the infatuation she'd felt from Spike—so she could expect mild pleasure at best. Being her first time, it would likely be painful more than anything else.

She realized the dragon hadn't made his move yet and looked at him inquisitively, almost impatiently. If this was going to happen, which she knew it would whether she liked it or not, he ought to get it over with. Instead, he was toying with her. "What are you waiting for?"

"You do have a horn, you know. I'm surprised you haven't used it."

As insecure as Aurelia was about her magic, she found herself unusually suggestible at that moment. She called on all the magical energy she could muster. Her horn lit up like a ghostly flare.

The dragon released one of her legs to grab her horn.

The spell fizzled. The magic dispersed.

"Of course, if you value your horn, you'll know better. I think it's sexy, so I'd hate to have to break it off." In his revelry, he failed to notice the purple flash from the mouth of the cave.

Aurelia didn't. Putting on her best I-know-something-you-don't grin, the kind Cassius loved to wear, she stopped resisting. If their time together had taught her anything, it was how to be antagonizing at wholly inappropriate times—or so she thought. In reality, he'd learned it from her that night in the auditorium. Her beauty had caught his eye, but her attitude had caught his heart.

The dragon was taken aback. Releasing her horn, he smirked. "Well now, there's a side of you I haven't seen before, which is saying a lot." He winked. "Bondage is all well and good, but if you're going to give in, I could unbind your forelegs. We could have much more fun that way."

Aurelia kept her voice cool and level. "Oh yes, that's exactly what I was thinking." She winked back and turned her attention to the mouth of the cave, where she was starting to hear the clip-clopping of hooves on stone.

The dragon heard it too. He twisted around to get a better look.

With her free leg, Aurelia gave him a powerful buck to the groin. Considering his current state, his pain would be especially great.

The dragon confirmed her prediction with an ear-splitting howl. Swiping his claw at her, he missed.

Aurelia had untied her forelegs, righted herself in midair, and soared toward the ceiling at the rear of the cave. She had cornered herself, but he was in no position to take advantage of her vulnerability. Not anymore.

The dragon tried anyway. He puffed up his chest with a deep gulp of air in preparation to roast her on the spot. A telekinetically-hurled boulder connected with his stomach, knocking the wind out of him. He whirled around in time to see a purple unicorn before her dimming horn blended into the darkness.

It didn't need to; the unicorn stepped into the firelight, trying to hide the symptoms of magical exhaustion. Briefly, her expression curled with disgust as the smell reached her nostrils. Having dined with griffin dignitaries in the past, she had learned to ignore such things as a dismembered haunch roasting in a makeshift fireplace. She tried not to think about where the rest of the goat might be.

Spike followed. He picked up a smaller rock, took aim, and said, "Leave her alone, Garble. I'm the one you want to fight."

Aurelia's heart skipped a beat.

"You're absolutely right," Garble growled. Demonstrating how fast he was when not caught off guard, he lunged forward before the unicorn could charge another spell and threw her aside with a blow to the head.

"Twilight!" Spike cried.

Twilight slammed into the wall. She didn't get up.

Meanwhile, Spike had abandoned his rock. Charging, he hoped to leap on Garble's head and scrape the jelly from his eye sockets.

Garble was faster. He got on all fours to maximize his lung capacity and engulfed him in flames.

Spike went sprawling to the cave floor in a blackened heap. His scales protected him from any lasting damage, but the extreme heat paralyzed him.

Meanwhile, Aurelia had dived in, intending to sever Garble's spine with her horn. Her buzzing wings gave her away.

Using the floor for leverage, Garble spun up and swung his fist into her stomach.

Aurelia careened into the wall and fell to the floor. That her chitin prevented her from losing consciousness was no blessing. It left her fragile wing between a rock and a hard place. The world fell away before the unbearable agony that coursed through her. When she tried to turn her head, her brain was reluctant to cooperate. When she saw the crumpled mess that remained of her wing, the real pain began. She screamed.

Birds flocked into the night sky from the forest below.

The two pegasus pony guards that had been flying overhead had already landed.

Garble stopped to survey the carnage.

Twilight pulled herself to her hooves.

In an instant, Garble had her throat pressed against the wall. "All I have to do is flick my wrist, and your neck will snap like a stick of bamboo."

"Easy now, Garble. Put the mare down, and I might go easy on you," came a voice from by the campfire, belonging to a veteran pegasus pony guard who'd been in this situation many times before. His muscles were tense, ready to spring like a trap the second Garble so much as twitched.

Garble turned his head to the newcomers. When his eyes fell on the veteran's scarred neck, he dropped Twilight and backed toward the rear of the cave. He knew that scar; it had still been bleeding the last time he'd seen it.

The firelight illuminated the veteran's slasher grin. "Too slow."

Garble held up his claws in a feeble attempt to defend himself. "You can't do this! I'm outside your jurisdiction!"

"Wrong." The veteran charged.

Garble fell to the ground, his knees popping from their sockets. Next came his wings. He wanted to scream. He couldn't—a vine clamped his jaw shut. Another bound his arms behind his back.

The veteran strolled back to his rookie partner, who had been watching in stunned silence. The veteran slapped him on the back. "Thanks for the help, partner."

The rookie flinched but said nothing.

The veteran smiled. "Don't worry about it. I wanted him for myself anyway. Let's see how our charge is making out."

The rookie nodded dumbly. At length, he convinced his legs to move.

Meanwhile, Twilight had limped over to Spike, who was starting to regain the feeling in his limbs. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Spike said. "Go check on Aurelia."

Twilight favored her front right hoof as she trotted across the cave. She winced at the sight of Aurelia's wing. "Oh Celestia." The impact had reduced it to a clump of splintered filaments and crinkled membrane. She kneeled by Aurelia's side. "I know some medical magic that will dull the pain."

Aurelia had become a delusional wreck. The pain had numbed her senses to the point where Twilight's words barely registered. She whimpered in reply.

Twilight touched her horn to Aurelia's wing so the anesthetic spell could have the maximum effect.

The relief was immediate. While not absolute, it was enough for Aurelia to form a few words. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. I wish I could do more, but if you're ever going to fly again, we need to get you to a hospital."

"Why help me? I'm a..."

Twilight stood. "Changeling or not, I can't stand by and watch you suffer. Especially not after you saved Spike. He's the one who told me where to find you."

Aurelia nodded. "Where is he?"

"I'm here," Spike said, kneeling by her head and hugging her neck. "I'm so sorry, Aurelia."

Aurelia tilted her head so she could see him from the corner of her eye and smiled weakly. "Not your fault... I didn't listen... Thank you."

Puzzlement gave way to realization as Twilight watched the scene unfold. "Are you two—"

"You all right, Ma'am?" the veteran asked.

"Huh?" Twilight turned to him. "Oh, yeah, I'm fine."

The veteran nodded. "Right." He turned to Aurelia. "Aurelia, you're under arrest."

"What?" Spike asked, keeping one arm around Aurelia as if afraid she would be gone when he turned around. "Why?"

"Trespassing."

Spike glared at the veteran. "Arrest me too, then. I'm the one who brought her here."

Aurelia began, "Spike, you don't—"

"Wait a minute," Twilight said, glaring at the veteran. "What about the dragon? Why don't you arrest him?"

The veteran looked at her. "Much as I'd love to tear Garble limb from limb, he's beyond my jurisdiction. The Draconian-Equestrian Treaty protects rogue dragons who stay in the Badlands. If I wasn't charged with protecting you, I wouldn't have been able to intervene at all."

Twilight tried in vain to keep her anger from seeping into her voice. "Then I'm coming too. Princess Celestia and I will have words about this."

"That's fine, Ma'am. Princess Celestia decides how the law is enforced, anyway." The veteran turned to Aurelia. "Can you stand?"

Aurelia looked resigned, shaking her head.

The veteran turned back to Twilight. "Ma'am, if you'll lift her onto my back, I'll fly her back to Ponyville for medical attention. You and Spike will follow my partner back on hoof. I'll have a carriage to Canterlot ready by the time you arrive."

Twilight nodded. She didn't like the situation, but Aurelia would only get treatment if they cooperated. Twilight called on her last reserves of magic and levitated Aurelia onto his back.

Aurelia held the veteran's neck with her forelegs while her hind legs draped over his haunches and almost touched the ground. She would have felt awkward riding a stallion like this, especially after what Garble had tried to do, but she was too tired to care about any of that. She hoped the anesthetic spell lasted until she got to the hospital, or she might lose her grip.

The veteran flapped his musclebound wings. She was lean enough—or he was broad enough—that they retained their full range of motion. He'd flown wounded soldiers out of combat zones in the past, and she was much lighter. "Right. I'll be off, then. See you three in Ponyville."

Aurelia clung to his back as he trotted to the mouth of the cave and shot into the night sky.

The rookie found a path down the mountainside and lead Spike and Twilight back the long way. They would have to take a detour to avoid the Everfree Forest, so they wouldn't arrive in Ponyville until sunrise.

No one noticed the phoenix that flew into the cave behind them, lighting it up with his own natural glow as the last embers of the forgotten campfire burned out. He landed in front of Garble, staring at him.

Garble, who was still incapacitated and in great pain, stared back. "What?" he grumbled through what little space the vine around his jaw provided.

The phoenix dropped a fragment of red-and-yellow-striped eggshell on the ground between them.

"Already ate."

The phoenix narrowed his glowing yellow eyes and stepped onto Garble's snout, one claw after the other.

The last things Garble saw were two sets of razor-sharp talons reaching for his eyes.

Meanwhile, though the rookie had finally found his voice, he lost it again upon hearing the screams echoing from the cave.


***


Celestia lay on a gold-embroidered couch with matching velvet pillows bleached to the same radiant white as her coat. Pastel oil paintings, decorative shields, framed documents, and flowing tapestries adorned the left and right walls of her office. A translucent stained-glass window covered the back wall, tinting the morning sunlight a rainbow of colors and overlooking the castle, city, forests, mountains, and towns beyond. A marble coffee table, the surface of which was etched with a map of the known world, filled the space between her and the two smaller couches on its opposite side. Each was big enough to occupy a grown stallion. The one on the left was doing just that.

Shining had spent the last two hours recounting everything that had happened since he'd descended into the fog three days prior.

Celestia listened in stoic silence save for the occasional clarifying question. "I presume you were unable to apprehend the fugitives due to your injuries," she said.

"That's correct," Shining lied.

If Celestia saw through him, which was a real possibility considering the millenniums of political experience she had backing her up, she made no indication. "Spike would know better than to stay near the Badlands, and if Aurelia is as inept at illusion magic as you say, they wouldn't have gotten far into Equestrian territory without drawing unwanted attention," she thought aloud. "Where do you think they are now?"

"I couldn't say for certain, but my best guess would be—"

A knock on the oak double doors cut Shining off, exacerbating his dull headache and causing him to break eye contact with Celestia to inspect the source of the offending noise. The doors still being closed, his efforts were in vain.

"You may enter," Celestia called. Whoever was on the other side wouldn't have knocked without the consent of the unicorn guards she had stationed there to assure that Shining and her were undisturbed.

Their horns aglow, the unicorns opened the doors to grant Twilight and her veteran bodyguard entry. The rookie had left for an appointment with his psychologist. The unicorns closed the doors behind them.

"Princess Celestia," the veteran said, bowing lower than necessary.

Twilight neither spoke nor bowed. She looked at Celestia accusingly.

"What news?" Celestia asked, skipping the formalities. She knew ponies like the veteran were a necessary evil, but that didn't mean she had to like them.

"Two prisoners await trial, Your Majesty," the veteran said. "One is a changeling caught crossing the Equestrian border. The other is a dragon who resisted her arrest."

"Thank you. You may leave."

The veteran performed a winged salute.

Shining frowned.

The veteran turned and rapped his hoof on the doors.

The unicorns opened them.

Twilight watched the veteran leave, waiting for the doors to close behind him before turning to Shining.

Shining looked back.

Twilight glanced at his horn.

Aurelia had been injured worse, but she had had the benefit of medical magic. Thanks to the veteran, persuading the doctors at Ponyville's clinic to treat her had been easy.

Nopony spoke.

Finally, Twilight stepped forward, stood on her hind legs, and wrapped her forelegs around Shining's neck.

"I assume you've forgiven me," Shining said.

"I don't agree with what you tried to do, but I understand why you tried to do it, and I forgive you for that." Twilight said, pulling away to look into his eyes. "I still think needless bloodshed could have been avoided, but I'm just glad you're alive." She stepped to the edge of the table and glared at Celestia. "You, on the other hoof, have a lot to answer for."

Shining had to keep his jaw from dropping.

Celestia blinked. Even during their last meeting, Twilight had addressed her as "Princess." Twilight wouldn't abandon all effort to be cordial without a reason. That Celestia had somehow lost her credibility in Twilight's eyes hurt, but she had no intention of letting herself crack again. Especially not with Shining present. No, this meeting would have to remain professional. "Very well. Ask."

"For one thing, what the hell is the Draconian-Equestrian Treaty?" Twilight asked.

"Now is hardly the time for a history lesson, but I'm sure you could find whole volumes on the subject in the castle library."

Twilight was almost taken aback. Celestia had never been snippy with her. Then again, she had never been snippy with Celestia. There was a first time for everything. "A rogue dragon very nearly snapped my neck because of a clause that gave him free reign to be a complete monster so long as he stayed in the Badlands."

Celestia winced.

Twilight walked up onto the table and poked Celestia's chest. "I'm only alive because Sergeant Slasher bent the rules to honor his contract."

Celestia gave her a stern look.

Twilight stepped down. She took a deep breath and exhaled through her nostrils.

Celestia waited for her to calm down before beginning, "The Draconian-Equestrian Treaty is how I've maintained peace for the past thousand years. Equestria was weakened in the years following Princess Luna's banishment, a fact that didn't escape our enemies. We had no quarrel with the dragons but plenty of resources they wanted. Rather than relying on the good will of our neighbors, I proposed a treaty that would provide the dragons with migration rights, a swath of territory on the southern edge of Equestria, and favorable trade agreements with our ample gem mines. In exchange, the dragons became our staunchest allies. Some of the original signers live to this day.

"They entrusted Spike's egg to my care as a show of good faith. When it failed to hatch after more than a century, I assumed it was dormant and used it as a prop in the entrance exam when I opened my school for gifted unicorns. That his breath can teleport objects is not innate dragon magic but a lingering manifestation of the wild magic by which you hatched his egg and turned your parents into potted plants." Celestia allowed herself the shadow of a smile. "When Spike grows up, which, as you've learned, is the result of him acting on his greedy impulses, he will be able to teleport much larger objects than rolls of parchment—whole ponies, if he were so inclined. That's probably how Legate Cassius planned to assassinate me and also why I cast the ward over Ponyville."

Twilight knew Celestia was trying to distract her. Fascinating as the information was, a more important matter needed to be addressed. "Chrysalis knew about our relationship with the dragons, but she invaded anyway. Why?"

"What do you know about Chrysalis?"

"Spike and I saved her daughter from that rogue dragon. I asked her a few things I'd been wondering about, and she had some interesting answers," Twilight bluffed. The information she had was all second-hoof, and many questions remained unanswered. "The real question, Celestia, is what you know about Chrysalis."

Having put two and two together, Celestia turned to Shining. "I won't be needing your best guess after all. You may leave when you wish."

Shining stayed.

Celestia turned to Twilight and sighed. "In light of everything that's happened, I suppose you deserve to know the truth. You will, I promise, but not now. Luna should be the first."

Twilight remembered the question that had triggered Celestia's breakdown. "All right." She began toward the door and lifted her hoof. She stopped just short of knocking, set it back down, and turned to look at Celestia. "There's one other thing."

Celestia hid her exasperation. "Yes?"

"What will you do with Spike?"

"I'll want to know all the facts before I make a decision, which means I'll have to talk to him and the changeling—does she have a name?"

"Aurelia."

Celestia paused. She was fluent in Old Equestrian, of course, and she knew that Chrysalis only named changelings for specific reasons. "Right. Aurelia. Normally, treason of the caliber Spike has committed is punishable by execution."

Twilight had to make a conscious effort to stay standing.

"Given the circumstances, however, I sincerely doubt that will be necessary." Celestia looked to Shining for a confirmatory nod before continuing, "Shining Armor has assured me that upon realizing the consequences of his actions, Spike put himself at risk to rescue him. All things considered, there is no easy answer to what Spike's punishment might be. All I can promise is that I will decide fairly."

"I guess that's all I can ask for." Twilight pulled the doors open with her magic and left.

The unicorns closed them once more.

Celestia turned to Shining. "Was there something else you wanted?"

At length, Shining spoke. "I want to resign."

Celestia didn't bother asking why, already knowing the answer. "You're not the first assassin I sent after Legate Cassius, you know. A cream-coated pegasus pony mare proposed the idea not long after the invasion. I didn't know her name—she didn't say, which is a shame." Sensing Shining's question, Celestia added, "She never came back."

Shining hadn't seen the mare's body, but he remembered the smell permeating Cassius's dungeon. A smell was one thing; knowing who it belonged to was another. He fought a wave of nausea. "I see."

"I could never bring myself to solicit an assassin, and nopony else stepped forward until you did. With the intelligence you... extracted... from the changeling assassin, I thought we stood a better chance. Whether or not I was right, we'll never know."

Shining sighed. His eyes wandered to the many curiosities hung along the walls. "I assume the nurse told you what really happened."

"The changeling spy, you mean. Yes, she did."

Shining looked back. "You knew about her too?"

"I didn't know she planned to kidnap Spike. You'll notice I didn't tell Twilight this, but he may have saved himself by sending that letter. I doubt Legate Cassius would have found him useful otherwise."

"Why tell me all this? I'm a murderer."

"The bodyguard you saw with Twilight was a murderer too, a former dragon hunter. He joined my royal guard after a dragon that strayed too far from the Badlands hospitalized him. He told me he didn't want to kill anymore. Twilight is alive because he lied.

"That said, I may reassign him. As you know, members of my royal guard swear to only use lethal force when necessary. I like to think that murderers have no place by my side, but when faced with war, they're a necessary evil. If you want, I can reassign you as well. You'll keep your rank in a military role, and your desire for revenge won't be a handicap."

For a long time, Shining sat and stared out the window. He felt like years had passed since he'd walked in the door, but the sun was still too low in the sky for him to see it over the castle's walls and spires. Having been locked underground for so long, he found the sun's absence unnerving.

Getting up, he stretched his stiff legs before trotting over to the window. Gazing out at the sun and the world below, tinted as they were by the many fragments of colored glass, he allowed himself a small smile. "Cadence didn't marry a murderer."

Celestia twisted her head around to look at him over the back of the couch. "A murderer wouldn't feel remorse."

Shining looked back. "Then if I quit now, there might still be hope for me."

Celestia smiled, breaking the stoic mask she'd been wearing for the last few hours. "As you wish. I'll assume your duties until I find a suitable replacement. The position will remain open in the meantime, should you wish to revoke your resignation."

"Thank you."

Celestia remembered what she'd promised Twilight. Her smile faded. She stepped off the couch and stretched. First her legs, then her neck, and finally her angelic wings. Folding her wings back to her sides, she turned to him with a heavy heart. "If you'll excuse me, Shining, I need to go talk to my sister."
> Chapter VII
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Luna awoke, her first thought was to banish the pony responsible to the sun. Lacking the energy, she pulled a cobalt-blue pillow over her ears. As everything but the enchanted silk sheets and pillowcases was made of clouds, the sound of knocking rang loud and clear. She tossed the pillow aside with her magic and buried her head in the mattress. The knocking stopped, but before she could rejoice, a voice took its place.

"Luna?"

Luna pulled herself into a sitting position, kicking the top sheet aside, and prepared to cast a muffling spell on the door. Then she recognized the voice.

"I'm sorry to wake you, Luna, but I need to talk to you," Celestia said through the door.

Luna canceled the spell before the magical buildup could give her away. Stealth was her best hope of stealing a few extra minutes of sleep. She flopped into bed and squirmed until she found a comfortable position. She was about to pull the sheet over herself when the door opened. She froze, clenching her eyes against the glaring light as it chased away the shadows that had filled the room.

Celestia stepped inside.

Luna allowed herself a small smile as the door closed again. Maybe Celestia would let her raise the moon a little later. The delay would be nothing a bit of expedited casting couldn't fix.

Celestia crept across the floor and sat beside her.

Luna was certain she'd guessed correctly, but then she felt something feathery brush her exposed belly. She fought the urge to laugh, but it grew more and more irresistible. "Tia!" she cried through a fit of giggles. She rolled out of reach of Celestia's wing and into an upright position. "That's not fair," she pouted, "you know how ticklish I am."

"Maybe you shouldn't have pretended to be asleep." Celestia smiled mischievously. "You forgot to use the traditional dialect."

"Yes, well, using the royal 'we' when speaking with our other half hardly seems prudent." Luna levitated over the pillow she'd tossed aside earlier, fluffed it, and dropped it back on the bed before lying there herself, facing away from her. "If you'll excuse me, Tia, I have a date with this pillow, so if you'd be so kind as to give us our privacy, I'll happily raise the moon in another—"

"It's still morning, Luna. You have all afternoon to rest."

Luna bolted out of bed, trotted to the window by the bookshelf, and drew the curtains. Seeing that the sun was still low in the eastern sky, she closed them. Her eyes adjusted to darkness better than the average pony, and while she could usually make out the subtle tints, tones, shades, and hues of blue that decorated the room, the morning light had reduced her vision to a gray scale by the time she turned to give Celestia an agitated look. "Pray tell, why have you awoken me at this discordant hour?"

Celestia, who still sat on the opposite end of the bed, answered solemnly, "As I said, I need to talk to you."

Catching the shift in Celestia's demeanor, Luna nodded. "Very well." She walked to the vanity on the other side of the room, though makeup was the last thing on her mind. With her magic, she lifted a clear bottle of opaque, silvery liquid and poured herself a glass. "Would you like one?"

Celestia shook her head. "Though I do love the taste of authentic moonshine, I must maintain a clear head for the time being. Perhaps later."

Before her banishment, Luna had made a sport of going incognito to challenge the patrons of taverns across Equestria—who were some of the only night ponies around at the time—to drinking contests. Her stay on the moon had done nothing to diminish her tolerance. Celestia, on the other hoof, had always been a lightweight. Levitating her glass behind her, Luna returned to the bed, sat, and folded her navy-blue wing over Celestia's back. "What troubles you?"

Celestia smiled at the gesture but sighed and looked away as she spoke, "I made a terrible mistake."

Luna took a sip and waited. While most liquors of comparable alcohol content had all the palatability of sulfuric acid, moonshine blended the subtle flavors of a fine vintage with the smoothness of a mother's milk. The taste was incomparable to anything average ponies could experience, much less imitate, which made sense for a drink fermented from crystallized moonlight.

"The changeling invasion, Cadence's imprisonment, Chrysalis's death... All could have been avoided. Twilight wouldn't have been attacked, Spike wouldn't have been kidnapped, Shining wouldn't have resigned, and maybe, just maybe, I could have had someone to keep me company, to comfort me in the centuries before your return, but I turned away. Do you know why? I was afraid. I was afraid for my subjects, but more than that, I was afraid for myself. I didn't want to be hurt again.

"I have no idea what being alone on the moon was like, but I doubt it was much worse than having to go to work, put on a smile, and pretend everything was all right every day for a thousand years when the reality was that nothing was all right. I failed. I saw the signs, but I ignored them. I was all too willing to dismiss the truth in favor of what I wanted to believe."

Luna had finished her first glass and was pouring herself a second. "If this is about the Lunar Rebellion, you know I've forgiven you for that. You did what—"

"No, this isn't about that, and while I appreciate that you've forgiven me, I haven't forgiven myself. Perhaps I could if I'd learned my lesson, but that I've made the same mistake again shows that I haven't."

"I assume you're referring to the changeling who attacked the royal wedding. You couldn't have known; no one did."

"I did."

"What do you mean?"

"I've known Cadence all her life, and Chrysalis's imitation was laughable, but even before that, I knew. I knew because that wasn't the first time Chrysalis and I met." Celestia took a long, deep breath. "The first time was when she was... courting me."

Luna coughed and almost spilled her drink. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Centuries after I sent you away, I was still in mourning. I woke up one day and decided I couldn't face my subjects. Knowing nopony would be foolish enough to follow me, I flew into the Badlands.

"When I got there, I saw a regal, equine creature sitting on the edge of a cliff, gazing out at Equestria with her chin in her hooves. The look in her eyes told me she was going through the same thing I was. My heart went out to her, but as I got closer, she fled. That's when I noticed her wings. I'd heard of changelings and their activities in Equestria, but none had ever been captured, and no two descriptions matched. My curiosity got the better of me and I went after her. Catching up was easy. Convincing her that I just wanted to talk was the hard part, but when I did, she landed. As I alighted on the ground next to her, I caught her staring at my wings.

"She averted her eyes. Blushing, she said she'd never seen such a beautiful creature.

"I was taken aback, not by her words, but by the way she'd spoken directly into my mind.

"Catching my reaction, she apologized, saying she didn't know any other way to communicate.

"I said I didn't mind and asked her name.

"She said her children called her Mother.

"I said Mother was a title, and that she ought to have a name of her own.

"She asked why.

"I said a name would tell the world that she was unique, and that if she didn't have one, I'd give her one. Seeing the afternoon sun reflecting off her chitin, I asked her what she thought of Chrysalis.

"She repeated it to herself, smiled, and said she liked it. Then, out loud, she thanked me.

"They were the first words I'd heard her say, and from the way she reacted to the sound of her own, beautiful voice, they were probably the first she'd heard herself say too.

"She hugged me.

"I melted. It had been so long since I'd last held someone.

"When she pulled away, she must have seen my dismay, or perhaps she'd been reading my thoughts, because she giggled and said that, though she had to go home, she hoped we'd see each other again. It had been so long since she'd last had someone to talk to.

"We went our separate ways. I came back the next day, and sure enough, she was there waiting for me. Our visits were never long, but we made a habit of sneaking away from our duties to meet in the mountains between our territories. Those were some of the happiest days I'd had since... you know.

"Unfortunately, not even an immortal can escape the truth that all good things must come to an end. For all the things we learned about each other, she never spoke of her children. I figured she'd talk about them when she was ready. After all, I had secrets too.

"One day, she popped the question, so to speak. I hadn't fully come to terms with the fact that I'd fallen for her, but it was as clear as day to her. She explained that she and her children feed on love, that they need it to survive, use their magic, and so on, but at some point, they came under a curse that linked all their minds together. She was the only one with the strength to maintain her sentience, so the others became extensions of her will. In that state, they couldn't find love on their own. They had no choice but to steal it. Not until then, that is. Watching me move the sun and moon, she knew how much magic I had at my disposal. The moon actually took most of the effort, as it's not my special talent, but she was none the wiser. She begged me to help.

"All I had to do was give her my love freely and openly. The amount she would need was nothing compared to how much I give my subjects on a daily basis, but given to a single individual whose magic is fueled by it, it would be enough for her to cast a counter spell that would break the curse, freeing her children.

"She said she knew she was asking a lot of me, but... she would never ask if she didn't love me too. Then she kissed me.

"Nothing ever felt so right. Wrapped in her loving embrace with her lips pressed against mine, I wanted to stay there forever. Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end. I broke away. I wanted to help her, to be with her and care for her as I knew she would for me, but I couldn't. I couldn't take that chance. She had just admitted to being the mastermind behind the changeling attacks. Even if they had no other way to survive, I couldn't just let that go. I couldn't know she wouldn't use the magic I gave her for some nefarious end. I couldn't know she wasn't trying to use me or even lying to me. I was all too aware what a fragile state sending you away had left me in. I might never have met her otherwise. I said I was sorry, but I couldn't help her. I never told her the real reason, but being telepathic, she probably figured it out. I left after that... and never came back."

Luna had long since finished her second glass, but she hadn't bothered refilling it. With her wing wrapped more tightly around Celestia, she poured another glass and offered it to her.

"Thank you, Luna, but I promised Twilight a fair trial for Spike and Aurelia, and that's at least one promise I'm going to keep. Plan on sharing a bottle with me this evening. For now, I just need a shoulder to cry on."

Making a mental note to ask about the trial when every minute she talked wasn't counting against the minutes she had left to sleep, Luna nuzzled Celestia's neck and laid her own over it.

Celestia leaned into her and opened the floodgate.

Luna was happy to offer release to what may have been centuries worth of grief. The story had affected her as well, but she had the benefit of strong drink. With that in mind, she downed the glass she'd offered her and poured a fourth.

Finally, Celestia pulled away and wiped her eyes. She'd far from run out of tears, but she already looked as if the weight of a hydra had been lifted from her withers. For the first time in weeks, her expression was serene. "Of course, the story doesn't end there."

"You don't have to finish. I know what happens next."

"No, you don't."

Luna retracted her wing. "I would have been there if—"

"That's not what I meant. You can't help being nocturnal. If you weren't, Chrysalis could have skipped the masquerade and invaded by night. Guarding the day was my responsibility, and I failed."

Waiting for Celestia to continue, Luna finished her fourth glass and began to pour a fifth, but her magic slipped and the bottle fell.

Celestia caught it in the golden aura of her magic and set it back on the vanity. "Perhaps you've had enough for now. There'll be plenty of time for more when you wake up this evening."

"I'm sure the castle staff will love my attending to my duties drunk."

Celestia smiled. "It wouldn't be the first time."

Luna nudged her.

"You already know most of what happened at the royal wedding, so I'll skip to the important part. Chrysalis and I locked in a magical duel after she revealed herself. Everypony knows that part. Everypony also knows that I lost. Theories abound as to why, but none are correct. She thought the love she'd been stealing from Shining won her the day. What she didn't know is that I'd learned the telepathy spell she'd used to talk to me the day we met. I used it to look into her memories to see why she'd turned on me. I saw months worth of memories in the space of a few seconds. Overwhelmed, I lost focus on my offensive spell, which wasn't very powerful in the first place, as I'd only intended to incapacitate her."

"What did you see?"

"I saw..." Celestia began to cry.

Luna wrapped her wing around her.

"I saw her... coming back to the same spot where we first met... day after day... week after week. I saw the look on her face... as she realized, each time, that I wasn't there... When the dragons returned on their annual migration, she tried to fight them off, but in the end, they pushed her out. After that, she stopped coming back."

Perhaps it was the alcohol; perhaps it was the story; perhaps it was knowing what Celestia had been going through—what Luna had put her through. Whatever it was, Luna couldn't help shedding a few tears. Then a few more.

Meanwhile, Celestia had stopped crying.

When she realized Celestia was now comforting her, Luna bit back her tears. "I'm so sorry."

"What for?"

Luna held Celestia tighter. "I don't even know anymore."

"That's not why she turned on me. In truth, she never really did."

Luna pulled away to look at Celestia incredulously.

"She still loved me, and I still loved her. That's how she'd survived all those years. That's why she died."

"I thought Shining—"

"That's the official story, yes. As I said, a changeling needs love to survive, but when someone with a longer lifespan loves her, she lives on borrowed time until she loses that someone's love. Chrysalis and I could have been together forever, but I abandoned her.

"In time, her death would have broken the curse by removing the focal point, but as long as I still loved her, she couldn't die. That's why she attacked. She had to make me hate her, for however short a time, so she could die and her children could be free. Shining threw her off a mountain, but she might have survived were her old age not catching up to her long before he cast his spell.

"Had I known she was still waiting for me after all these years, I'd have sent her a letter; I'd have gone to her; I'd have done something! I'd been afraid of being taken advantage of in my weakness, but you've been back for two years, during which I could have averted all the disaster and heartbreak that resulted from my failure."

"I'm so, so sorry, Tia."

"None of this is your fault."

"You forget that all of this started with the Lunar Rebellion, so yes, this is my fault—all of it." Luna stood and staggered to the bookcase, where she scanned the titles until she found an old history textbook. She levitated it in front of her, opened it to a dogeared page, and read the casualty statistics aloud. She turned a page and began reading, one by one, the names of the ponies who had died fighting Nightmare Moon.

Celestia cut Luna off. "How is this supposed to help?"

"I spent the first year of my return in the Canterlot Archives, tracking down the families of each one of those ponies and sending them my personal condolences."

"You're a better mare than I to—"

"No!" Luna threw the book aside and stumbled forward, pointing an accusatory hoof at Celestia. "You blame yourself for things that aren't your fault. Nightmare Moon, the Lunar Rebellion, and Chrysalis's death are all on my withers. You did what you had to do because, no matter how much you hated it, my actions left you no other choice.

"Thousands more would have died had you not banished me, or worse, had I won and the sun never rose again. You had no way of knowing Chrysalis's motive. You said yourself that she could have been done any number of things with that much power. She could have invaded right then and there.

"As always, you put the good of your subjects before your own. In a way, that's exactly what Chrysalis did by attacking." Luna tried to reach the vanity to pour herself another glass, but her hoof missed the floor and she fell. She didn't get up. "You two might as well have been made for each other, and I'm the reason you couldn't be together."

Celestia left the bed, sat, and draped her wing over her. "We're both wrong to blame ourselves because we're both to blame."

Luna looked up with tears in her eyes. "That makes no sense."

"The Lunar Rebellion would never have happened had I payed more attention to your feelings, nor would Chrysalis have died had I been a good enough judge of character to see that she needed me as much as I needed her. We could spend all day arguing over who tossed the first stone, but I have a trial to judge, and you have a day's rest ahead of you. If we really want to, we can bring this up when we're both stinking drunk in a few hours, though I doubt Canterlot will still stand in the morning. In the longterm, though, neither of us is going anywhere, so why don't we share our burdens from now on?"

"I like the second idea."

Celestia smiled, stood, helped Luna into bed, and started toward the door. "In the end, at least Chrysalis got what she wanted."

Luna pulled the sheet over herself but propped herself up on her foreleg. "Before you leave, I have a question."

Celestia turned from the door. "Of course, Luna. What is it?"

"Chrysalis said the changelings' collective consciousness was a curse, did she not?"

"Yes, why?"

"Because I've been researching illusion magic magic since the invasion. As you know, its most common application is light manipulation, but it also encompasses telepathy, which skilled practitioners can use for mind control. If the curse was based on illusion magic, removing the focal point wouldn't dispel it completely. The changelings' minds would still be connected, albeit on a subconscious level.

"Chrysalis's thoughts, feelings, and memories—her spirit, in other words, and the spirits of all deceased changelings—live on in her children. When the collective split, the living changelings, all of whom were born under the curse and thus had no spirits of their own, drew from that pool in the same instant hers entered it. Her spirit may have entered a new body the moment it left her old one. Of course, all changelings had access to her thoughts while she was alive, so there's no way of knowing who her reincarnation might be. If my theory is correct, though, she never truly died."

Celestia walked across the room and hugged Luna. "Thank you, Luna. Though I doubt Chrysalis and I will ever be together again, the knowledge that she may still be out there somewhere is comforting.

"I must admit that my knowledge of illusion magic is lacking, but at some point, I would very much like to hear how you came up with your theory. Perhaps tonight." Celestia opened the door and stepped into the hall.

Luna craned her neck to catch Celestia's gaze. "Don't count on it. After a thousand years on the moon, I'm dying to see if Tipsy Tia is the same as I remember."

Celestia giggled. "Good morning, Luna."

"Good morning, Tia." Luna snuggled into bed, pulling the sheet over her head.

With a lightened heart, Celestia closed the door.


***


Under Twilight's watchful gaze, a pair of earth pony guards escorted Spike and Aurelia to the castle dungeon.

With a spear tip a hoof's length from the back of her neck, Aurelia had submitted to the guards directing her and Spike to a pair of vacant cells, but then she saw the blood—changeling blood, spattered all over the bars, floor, and back wall of the cell. Her legs buckled.

"Keep moving," her guard said.

Aurelia turned to him. "I can't go in there," she pleaded. "Look at all the blood!"

Her guard looked to the cell and turned back to her with a blank expression. "Your mind must be playing tricks on you, Ma'am. I don't see any blood, but that might change if you don't keep moving."

Aurelia hesitated.

Twilight, who had taken position by the entrance, nodded, though her expression was anything but resolute. A mix of confusion and curiosity warred with the scowl she wore to let the guards know she intended to make good on her threat if they mistreated Spike or Aurelia.

Spike was already locked in the next cell, where he sat on a mostly-clean cot and gave Aurelia a reassuring smile.

Aurelia smiled back, but when she shifted her gaze toward her own cell, the blood was gone, replaced by another changeling, one she thought she recognized as one of Cassius's assassins. He ignored her, opting instead to stare balefully at the empty space in front of him. She gave her guard an incredulous look. "You can't be serious. Are we changelings not deserving of our own cells?"

Her guard sighed and relaxed his grip on his spear. "You are getting your own cell, Ma'am."

"What about that other changeling?"

"You're the only changeling in Canterlot. We've made sure of that."

When Aurelia looked to the cell once more, she saw what the changeling was staring at.

Shining stood in front of the door, glaring down at the changeling and muttering something incomprehensible.

"Shining? What are you doing here?"

Shining ignored Aurelia.

"Shining?" Twilight asked. All she saw was a clean, vacant cell; all she heard was the guards' baffled mumbling.

Moving closer, Aurelia began to make out the words.

"One of two things can happen," Shining said in a hollow echo of his usual voice. "You can tell me what happened to Chrysalis, or I can paint this cell with your entrails—your choice."

Aurelia realized she was hearing the words in her head. She didn't think he knew telepathy, but if he did, he should have been able to extract the answer directly. For that matter, she'd already told him what happened to Chrysalis.

The changeling spat in Shining's face and growled, "Ask my corpse."

Shining grinned as his horn bathed the room in an otherworldly light. "I'm so glad to hear you say that."

The changeling lifted into the air and flew into the back of the cell with a sickening crunch. Instinctively, he had spread his wings to counteract the force. All that did was mangle them as they ground against the stone wall. His nerves' screams barely had time to reach his brain as he launched forward into the bars, where his crooked horn caught and ripped clean off in a string of gore as he flew backward. He pin balled around the cell in the same glowing light that snaked off Shining's horn, becoming less distinguishable from a twitching pulp of cracked chitin and ruptured organs with each impact. Finally, he fell to the cot.

Shining opened the door, stepped inside, lifted him up once more, and pressed what remained of the changeling's head against the back of the cell. As blood poured down the changeling's grimacing face, Shining reached back and prepared for one final strike.

The strike never came. At least, not as far as Aurelia could see. Instead, she felt something cool press against her temple. It wasn't the steel of a spear but a spiral-grooved taper of purple bone—a horn. The sensation spread to her mind, leaving her dizzy with an icy, tingly feeling in her head.

As Twilight stood, a dim glow faded from her horn. "Are you all right?"

Aurelia tried to nod, but her body refused to move. She managed a groan. She had been so caught up in the vision that she hadn't noticed herself diving in to thrust Shining away.

Her sudden movement had alarmed the guards, who tackled her.

Twilight had already begun to understand what was happening, if not how or why, and she was quick to yank them away—by their ears—before they could harm Aurelia's still-healing wing. In the time Aurelia took to piece everything together, Twilight had turned to the guards, who she held aloft beside the dungeon entrance.

The guards wilted under her glare.

"What the hell were you thinking?" Twilight shouted. "If you hurt her—"

"It's okay, Twilight," Aurelia managed. She looked back to the cell. Gone were the inhabitants and the blood stain. Twilight's spell had reduced the vivid reenactment to a dull memory, one she could easily ignore. She stepped inside and closed the door behind her, though she put as much distance between herself and the cot as possible. Instead, she sidled up to the bars within Spike's reach.

Spike had left his cot to comfort her, brushing her neck and whispering something only she could hear.

Twilight turned to the guards once more and released her magical grip.

The guards tumbled to the floor.

"Get out."

"We're supposed to—"

"I said get out!" Twilight's eyes crackled with magical energy. Her voice magnified as if several were all trying to be heard over each other.

The guards made no further objection as they scrambled to get away from her.

Twilight waited for them to leave before turning to Spike and Aurelia, who both looked shaken.

"You're scary when you're angry," Aurelia said.

"You should see her when she's really angry," Spike said. "Her eyes turn solid red, the color drains from her coat, and her mane erupts in flames."

Not having seen Twilight when she learned about Pinkie's clairvoyance, Aurelia dismissed the mental image with a laugh.

Twilight was relieved not to have to explain that situation again. She walked back to the row of cells and stood in front of Spike and Aurelia. "Are you sure you're all right, Aurelia?"

"I'm sure," Aurelia said. "Why do you keep helping me? Won't you get in trouble? What if Spike and I try to escape?"

Twilight laughed. "You saw how I handled those guards. Do you really plan on trying anything?"

Aurelia noticed Twilight's abrupt change in demeanor but chose not to mention it. "What spell was that?"

"I'm surprised you don't know. It's illusion magic."

"I don't know much magic."

Twilight was silent for a moment. "Oh." The idea of a changeling who didn't know basic illusion spells was beyond her, but if it was true, she'd probably struck a nerve. "Sorry, I didn't know." She looked for a way to change the subject. Finding none, she decided to pretend nothing had happened. "Anyway, the spell forms a brief telepathic link that allows the caster to exchange memories with the recipient. I know enough about what happened here to guess that you were having a flashback, so I figured I could disrupt it by taking the memory away. I hope you don't mind my rooting around in your head."

"I don't know why I had that memory in the first place, but I'm glad to be rid of it."

"That spell was the same one I'd used to save my friends from Discord's magic so we could use the Elements of Harmony. I'd never used it to take memories, but apparently it works both ways."

"You beat Discord?"

Twilight hesitated. "My friends and I did, yes. The year before that, we saved Princess Luna from Nightmare Moon. That was when we first learned about our connection to the Elements. In all probability, we could have used them to stop Chrysalis too."

The revelation that Chrysalis didn't have to die should have upset Aurelia more than it did, but Twilight seemed more remorseful.

"War may have been unavoidable; it may not have. Either way, we're in it, but we don't need to make matters worse by being nasty to our prisoners. You helped Spike, so now I'm helping you. I may be an idealist, but I believe peace is always an option." Twilight shook her head. "I just wish Celestia shared the sentiment."

Aurelia had no time to respond, for at that moment, Celestia entered.

Twilight felt the temperature in the room rise a few degrees as she looked at Celestia, who appeared every bit as radiant as the sun. "Oh, hello, Princess. We were just talking about you. I must say, you're looking dissonantly cheerful for such a somber occasion. Did you just have sex or something?"

Three sets of disbelieving eyes locked on Twilight.

Celestia blushed, too caught off guard to scold her. The redness in her cheeks made her look a thousand years younger. "I was with my sister!"

Twilight cocked an eyebrow.

"In an entirely platonic sense!"

Still dizzy, Aurelia focused on Celestia. "Of course. There's only one pony, or rather, one changeling, who you have eyes for, and her blood is on your hooves."

Celestia shifted her gaze to the changeling sitting in the cell to Twilight's left, whose uncanny resemblance to Chrysalis put Celestia off far more than the jab. She wondered if Chrysalis and Aurelia were mother and daughter in more than a metaphorical sense. Remembering some of her... encounters... with Chrysalis, Celestia blushed. Aurelia couldn't be their daughter, of course.

Aurelia's vision had come into focus, though not for long. The sight of blood rushing to Celestia's face, barely contained behind her pristine white coat, sent Aurelia into another flashback. A lock of her blue-green mane hung in front of her eyes. Her legs and wings intertwined with Celestia's. Feeling Celestia's chest rise and fall, she heard herself say, "I'd never ask you to do this if I didn't love you too." Their lips connected. Celestia's eyes closed. Aurelia's hoof reached between Celestia's thighs, eliciting a gasp. The vision ended. Looking aside, she blushed. She'd never seen that memory before, either.

Seeing Celestia and Aurelia's reactions to each other, Twilight felt a pang of jealousy rise in her chest. She made a mental note to investigate her strange attitude shift when she had time. Having never used the spell on a changeling, she may have taken more from Aurelia than intended. "That explains your behavior in the hospital. You were speaking literally when you talked about not being able to follow your heart. I thought you held back to avoid endangering innocent bystanders. Instead, you did the opposite."

"I tried to do the right thing, believe it or not," Celestia said. "I have enough control over my magic that I could have brought the full fury of the sun down on Chrysalis without raising the ambient temperature more than a few degrees. Instead, I tried to incapacitate her so I could retrieve the Elements. You saw how well that turned out." Celestia walked toward Spike and Aurelia's cells. "I didn't come here to justify my actions. What's done is done. Cleaning up the aftermath is all I can hope to do now."

Twilight stepped aside.

With nowhere to run or hide, Spike put on a brave face. The consequences of his actions were about to be made manifest, and he was going to face them head on.

For her part, Aurelia managed to push the lingering mental image aside long enough to meet Celestia's eyes.

"Spike, I understand you sent a letter to Legate Cassius the night Shining left to assassinate him," Celestia said. Neither her face nor her voice betrayed the slightest emotion. "What did it say?"

Spike reiterated the contents of his letter word for word.

"At the time, did you understand that acts of treason the likes of which you were committing are punishable by death?"

Spike gulped. "I didn't know what the punishment was, but I knew my actions were treasonous."

"Did you understand that Shining could have died as a result?"

"Yes and no."

"Explain."

Spike gave Aurelia a look that said, "I'm sorry I lied to you." He turned to Celestia. "I hoped to use my ability as a messenger to help the changeling war effort and infiltrate Cassius's inner circle, use that influence to convince Cassius not to kill Shining outright, and send you a letter with information to help spring Shining from jail. If Cassius didn't find out, I'd send you reports about future changeling attacks and any other useful information I gathered. My letter was an offer of diplomacy, but after seeing that changeling sinking his fangs into Twilight's neck, I had no interest in a peaceful resolution.

"When I realized Cassius had no inner circle and that I had no hope of influencing him, I saw what a horrible mistake I'd made. That's when he sent me to meet Aurelia." He smiled. "She's the first changeling I've met who wasn't a complete monster. We talked at length, and as we did, my attitude began to change. I figured there must be others like her, so maybe peace was possible after all."

Aurelia took the news better than he expected. Smiling, she made a mental note to pat him on the back when a row of steel bars wasn't standing between them. She understood what Twilight meant to him. Knowing that Aurelia helped him overcome his desire for revenge made her heart soar. At the same time, she knew she could have done the same for Cassius and averted all the harm her failure to do so had caused. The realization didn't affect her as much as it might have in the past. As Celestia had said, cleaning up the aftermath was all they could hope to do.

Twilight was speechless. After Spike had tried to frame Owloysius with a stuffed mouse and ketchup, she'd underestimated how dangerously cunning he could be. Of course, his plan failed, but if Cassius wasn't already a raving lunatic by the time Spike was kidnapped, it might have worked.

Celestia was the first to voice her opinion. "Do you remember when I said how I had hoped to put you and Twilight to work at the Office of Wartime Intelligence?"

Spike thought back to that evening in the hospital. "I do."

"By virtue of her talent for organization, Twilight would be a tactician without equal, whereas your unique ability to teleport multiple small objects in succession over immense distances without suffering from magical exhaustion, a feat I doubt even she is capable of, makes you an invaluable asset to any intelligence operation. Had you come to me with your plan instead of taking matters into your own hands, you wouldn't be standing trial for treason right now."

"I'd never have met Aurelia either."

Celestia began to pace. "As for your punishment, I despise the death penalty and only impose it when given no other option. I can't overlook the consequences of your actions, but given the unique nature of your situation, I'm inclined to go easy on you.

"As Shining's cracked horn will require prolonged care by virtue of being contraindicated with medical magic, his hospital bills will be monumental." She stopped in front of the cells and looked at Spike. "You are to perform community service until you pay off every last bit. Then you will be free to go."

Aurelia turned to Spike with a smile.

Twilight visibly relaxed.

Spike remained tense. "What about Aurelia? All she's guilty of is helping me and Shining escape."

Celestia sighed. "Our nations are still at war. If I provided her refuge, even within these walls, ponies who don't know her as well as you do would seek to cause her undue harm simply because of her species." She looked to Aurelia with remorse. "I'm sorry, Aurelia, but you will have to be deported to changeling territory. By virtue of your assistance in Spike and Shining's escape, your trespassing will be overlooked and no further action will be taken against you."

Aurelia nodded. Cassius would have a few choice words for her when she got back, but he couldn't attack her without losing more support than he already had.

"No," Spike said.

Aurelia turned to him. "She's right, Spike. I don't belong here."

Spike turned to her. "Then I'm going with you."

"What about your friends? What about Twilight? I can't make you leave them behind."

"You're not making me do anything; this is my decision, and there's no decision to make." Spike smiled. "I want to be with you, and if that means following you back into the hell we just escaped from, so be it." His expression turned grave. "I abandoned you once. I'll never make that mistake again." He turned to Celestia. "If she doesn't belong in Equestria, neither do I."

"Very well," Celestia said.

"What?" Twilight asked. She had been silent throughout the exchange, but she couldn't help making her objection known.

"As Spike said, the decision is his."

Twilight turned to Spike. "You can't be serious, Spike. Tell me you're not."

"I wouldn't joke about something like this."

"What about Pewee? What about Rarity?" Twilight put her injured hoof to the bars. "What about me?"

Spike reached up to meet her hoof with his claw. "I'll write to you."

Twilight fought a wave of tears—she'd been getting better at that lately, to the point where only she and him noticed. "I'll find a way to visit you." She set her hoof on the floor and turned to Aurelia. "Take care of him."

"I will," Aurelia said.

Celestia draped her wing over Twilight's back.

Twilight made no effort to resist. Despite herself, she leaned into her.

"As soon as a carriage is ready, I'll have somepony escort you two across the border," Celestia said to Spike and Aurelia before leaving with Twilight.

Aurelia turned to Spike and moved as close as she could. Her snout stayed flush with the bars while her horn lanced through overhead. "You didn't have to do that. Cassius may spare me for political reasons, but I have no doubt he'll try to kill you."

Spike walked over to her. "I know you won't let him. You said so yourself."

"I might not be able to stop him. You've seen how weak my magic is. In the hooves of most changelings, the spell I tried to mimic your dragon breath with would have set the table on fire."

Spike smiled. "I'm not worried."

"Why throw your life away?"

Spike leaned in and kissed Aurelia through the bars. A moment later, he pulled away. "That's why."

Aurelia was stunned into silence. She had expected something to that effect, but actually feeling his lips pressed against hers was another matter. The first kiss between lovers is often described as a magical moment, but for a changeling, it literally is. The vision from earlier didn't begin to compare. When the feeling subsided, she grinned mischievously, flashing her petite fangs. "Sorry, I didn't catch that." She winked. "You'd better try again."


***


Cassius took another swig of absinthe and watched the waves crash against the jagged outcrops that lined the base of the cliff like the rows of black teeth in Leviathan's gaping maw. Lightning split the gray sky and flashed off the turbulent sea. Rain pelted the ground, drenching his wings and making the smooth, mossy rocks slippery. He turned away.

Before him stood the impenetrable wall of fog that blanketed his territory. Sentient, changeling-eating trees, flowers that spewed neurotoxic pollen, and bushes that got up and wandered around of their own accord lurked just out of sight, eager to pounce him if given half a chance.

For some reason, Chrysalis had made him the leader. Though he grieved for her, he couldn't let the others see his weakness. He had to channel his feelings into a form they could support, so he set his sights on vengeance. He told himself he wanted it for Aurelia, but by the time she showed him how far afield he'd gone, he had no hope of turning back. If anything, he pursued his plan more passionately than ever. In the end, he failed even that.

Both he and Shining wanted revenge, but they also wanted freedom. Cassius wanted freedom from an empty, meaningless life; Shining wanted freedom from the chains that kept him from his wife and family. Cassius knew he would have lost in a fair fight, and he would have happily granted Shining's freedom for killing him. They could have both been winners. Instead, Cassius lost not only his chance at an honorable death but any chance he had with Aurelia. He took another swig and closed his eyes as the licorice-flavored liquor burned his throat.

Aurelia had supporters; he learned as much only after the knowledge would have proved useful. Perhaps with him gone, they'd be able to sway the others to a peaceful, free-thinking future—a future with no place for an empty husk like him. Before he left, he'd written a letter to that effect for them to deliver if she came back. He doubted she would, but if she did, she'd make a far better leader than he ever was.

Swishing the sparkling chartreuse liquid around in its clear glass bottle, he grimaced. It was half empty. He smashed it against the ground, shattering it into myriad glittering fragments. The liquid itself was barely distinguishable between the rain and the overflowing streams that covered the ground like veins. He ignited his horn, pouring his magic into a torrent of green fire that vaporised the water and scorched the ground. He had less and less magic to spare these days. Though well fed, he was on the brink of starvation, and exertions like the one he'd just made only expedited the process.

The flames persisted after he collapsed from magical exhaustion. Having never outright hallucinated from absinthe, he rubbed his eyes and stared at the paradoxical conflagration. It spread into a circle, engulfing him. He was too tired to retreat, but it didn't burn. Stranger still, the ground beneath began to darken until he felt he was leaning over the edge of a bottomless abyss. Despite the unmistakable resemblance to a changeling fire portal, he didn't fall in. Instead, Chrysalis's ethereal form rose from the shadows.

Chrysalis sat motionless save for her heaving chest as she gasped for air. Though alive and intact, her body was badly beaten as if she'd suffered a great fall. Her eyes were clenched shut, holding back indescribable pain. She wheezed, descending into a hacking cough. When the fit subsided, she opened her eyes, took stock of her surroundings, and sighed. Her mouth moved as if she were trying to form words, but no sound came.

By then, Cassius had recovered from his initial shock and figured out exactly what was happening. Somehow, either through the copious volume of absinthe he'd drunk, the magical exhaustion, or any combination of other factors, he had triggered a flashback, a long-repressed memory of Chrysalis in her last moments. He found his legs and crawled over to her, hooking his foreleg over her withers. "What is it, Mother?"

Chrysalis made no indication of having heard him or knowing he was there save that she continued to mouth words.

In a moment of drunken inspiration, Cassius touched his horn to hers and opened a telepathic channel.

Chrysalis turned her head and stared at him as if she were looking into his spirit. In that instant, the world around them fell away. The void opened by the changeling fire portal swallowed the earth and sky, leaving nothing and no one but the two of them in its wake. She closed her eyes and concentrated. Her horn took on a green corona that burst in a blinding flash.

When his eyesight returned, Cassius found himself lying in a shallow crater amidst a warm, grassy meadow. Birds sang. Flowers danced in the breeze. Screaming changelings fell from the sky, splattering against the ground like black, pony-shaped eggs with green yolks.

Chrysalis was still sidled up next to him, looking every bit as horrible as she had on the cliff.

Cassius buried his face in her blue-green mane to shield his eyes from the carnage. His foreleg had become translucent. Realizing he wasn't really with her, he cried.

Chrysalis spoke, but her voice went straight to his head.

Cassius leaned into her and cried harder, drowning out her words, but his tears expressed only joy at hearing her voice again.

Chrysalis raised his head to meet her eyes. "Please listen to me, Cassius. I don't have much time."

Cassius smiled and sniffled, stemming the flow of tears. "There's nothing I'd rather do."

Chrysalis managed a smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. "My body is giving out. When it dies, the curse that has plagued our kind for countless centuries will be lifted. Your brothers and sisters, now mindless drones, animals that bend to my every whim, will be free to forge their own destinies, live their lives as they see fit, and find love without having to steal it. That's always been my dream, Cassius—freedom.

"Alas, the circumstances in which it had to be realized will lead many to seek revenge on my behalf, but I want you to know that I don't blame Celestia for what happened. She tore my heart out, but she was only putting her subjects' best interests before her own, which is exactly what I did today.

"While the others are privy to this message, I doubt they will remember it after I'm gone. Reincarnation into an already-living body is a traumatizing experience, but you will not share the same fate. Not now, and maybe not ever. For some reason, you were born with a spirit of your own, disconnected from the pool from which the others will draw. Though you chose to repress your sentience, it makes you the most competent changeling to lead in my stead.

"You don't have to worry about running the nation. You just have to be there for them the same way I have for you. In time, they will grow out of their need for monarchy and become the masters of their own fates, but until that time comes, they will need someone to guide them lest they destroy themselves, either by picking a fight they can't win or falling into anarchy. 

"I realize this is a lot to put on your shoulders. While you're doing your best to be there for the others, you may wonder who will be there for you. Just remember that though my body may die, I will always be there for you in spirit."

Cassius wrapped his other foreleg around Chrysalis's neck and held her as if trying to ward off Death's approach.

Chrysalis hugged him back, but her eyelids were getting heavy, so she let them close. Her neck was getting sore, so she let it rest against his. Her heart was getting tired of beating, so she let it slow to a stop. The world faded away. This time, it took her with it.

When Cassius opened his eyes, he was alone on the cliff in the pouring rain, laying on a patch of scorched moss interspersed with bits of broken glass, some of which had lodged in his chitin. He got up, brushed the glass away, turned, and walked to the slippery edge of the cliff. As he stared at the raging sea far below, a funny feeling spread from the pit of his stomach to his diaphragm. He laughed. He'd thrown his life away long before that vision could have helped him, so the physical act came easily.

He leaped off the cliff, willing his soaked wings to propel him as far from the edge as they could before losing what little lift they had garnered. Diving headfirst into Leviathan's maw with his forelegs outstretched, his last thought was of Spike and Aurelia. Cassius hoped they would be happy together. With a crunch and a splash, the sea embraced him.
> Chapter VIII
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Grimacing, Twilight levitated the quill and hurled it across the musty room into a mahogany bookshelf, where it stuck, bleeding ink. She smiled, but as she looked back at the ink-blotched letter, the latest in a long line of failures, she frowned. The rest were scattered around the room. Some were crumpled into airtight balls; others were shredded into fine confetti, but this one still stared defiantly back at her with its amorphous black eye. Her frown deepened, her horn erupting in magenta fire. The letter smoked before bursting into flames as if her glare was a magnifying glass focusing sunlight. Only after the letter had withered into flakes of ash did she remember that she'd never studied elemental magic. She took another sheet of parchment and tried casting the spell again. She failed. She'd been doing that a lot lately.

Before Twilight could find another quill to fling, the maid entered.

Twilight had requested that her food be brought to her old quarters in the castle library as she'd often done in the past to avoid the impossible choice between studying and eating. In truth, she could use a change of scenery, but she didn't want to risk running into Celestia. Realizing the air stunk of burnt parchment, Twilight said, "Sorry about the smoke. I got frustrated trying to write a letter and accidentally set it on fire."

The maid didn't respond. She was probably so used to dealing with Celestia's eccentric students that nothing short of a hairless ape wandering around the castle would phase her. She walked toward the long table where Twilight sat.

Twilight didn't turn around. "No matter how hard I try, I can't seem to get the words right. These things always came naturally in the past, but now I feel like I'm tongue tied when I'm not even talking. Celestia forbid I run into her." Realizing what she'd just let slip, Twilight cringed. "You won't tell her I said that, will you?"

The maid curled her angelic wing around Twilight's withers, leaned in, and whispered, "Your secret is safe with me, my faithful student."

Twilight twisted in her chair.

Celestia stood beside her. In place of her usual gold and amethyst jewelry, Celestia wore a simple black dress and white apron. Both were tailored for a pony half her height, leaving the sun cutie mark on her white flank bare. She smirked. "My eyes are up here, Twilight."

Twilight blushed. She wanted to berate her for coming in unannounced, but curiosity won the day when Twilight saw the faint golden aura around Celestia's horn. "What are you carrying?"

Celestia set a tray on the table. "Your dinner, of course."

Twilight's stomach growled. The tray was piled high with cuts of fresh fruit, roasted vegetables, exotic flowers, and assorted pastries—easily enough food for two. Twilight licked her lips, but the food would have to wait. Celestia wouldn't pose as Twilight's room service without a reason. Twilight turned to her. "I suppose you want to know why I've been avoiding you."

"You'll tell me when you're ready. I just wanted to make sure you were all right. You haven't set hoof in the rest of the castle since the trial. You didn't even come out to see Spike and Aurelia off."

Twilight looked away and sighed. Her eyes fell on the tray, but her appetite was gone.

"If you still need time to think, I'll leave you be."

Twilight nodded.

Celestia retracted her wing, nuzzled Twilight's neck, and walked toward the door. "Good night, Twilight."

Twilight felt a draft. Shivering, she looked around the musty, lifeless library. Shadows danced in the lamplight. She blurted, "Wait!"

Celestia stopped in her tracks, turning her head. "Yes, Twilight?"

"Could you stay with me for awhile? It's kind of lonely here."

Celestia smiled, turned, and walked back toward the table.

Twilight got up. She wanted to say something, but no words came. They stood facing each other for an awkward moment.

Celestia didn't mind.

Words had been failing Twilight a lot lately. Letting her heart do the talking, she tackled Celestia and hugged her.

Celestia sat, wrapped her forelegs and wings around her, and held her close, chasing away the cold night air.

Twilight buried her face in Celestia's chest and cried.

Celestia had wanted nothing more than to set things right between them since that evening in the hospital, and now she had the chance. She waited for Twilight's tears to subside before letting go. "Do you remember what I told you that evening in the hospital?"

Twilight looked up to meet Celestia's eyes. "I remember. You said that doing the right thing isn't always possible. I didn't want to believe it. I still don't, but—"

"I was wrong."

"Huh?"

"I would have interrogated the changeling myself, but I followed you to the emergency room. Modern medical magic is advanced enough that you were in no danger of bleeding out, but the wound was the least of your worries. Changeling venom is paralytic. You were barely breathing when the guards brought you in. A minute later and your heart would have stopped.

"Hours ticked by; I counted the seconds. I wanted to stay by your side until you awoke, but Shining had finished, so I met with him once you'd stabilized. Knowing I'd almost lost you because of my own shortsighted plan to involve you in a conflict I should have known you'd want no part in, I was in no condition to make political decisions, so when Shining proposed an assassination, I gave the order without considering the consequences. I could have done several things differently, any one of which would have averted disaster."

"When you said that doing the right thing isn't always possible, what you meant to say is that you don't always make the right decision. In other words, everypony makes mistakes. Even you."

"Yes, even me. Despite being as old as Equestria itself, I'm just another pony at heart. You've been having trouble coming up with a lesson, have you not?"

Twilight lowered her gaze and pulled away. "I have."

Celestia put her hoof under Twilight's chin. "You're not the one who needed to learn one."

"What do you mean?"

Celestia cleared her throat. "Dear Twilight Sparkle: The past week has taught me that I can't always make the right decision, but I can always do something to make the wrong decision better. Your fallible mentor, Princess Celestia."

Twilight hugged her again. "I see you're already putting your lesson into practice."

Celestia smiled. "More than you know."

"Is that so?"

"I wrote Legate Cassius a letter portraying Aurelia's unharmed return as a show of good faith in the interest of reopening negotiations."

Twilight pulled away to see Celestia's face. "What did he say?"

Celestia's smile faded. "The spell failed, unfortunately, but I didn't detect any warding magic."

Twilight's brow furrowed. "Do you think something happened to him?"

"I couldn't say for certain, but when Luna escorted Spike and Aurelia across the border, a group of changelings came out to meet them. Legate Cassius disappeared the day before, leaving a letter for Aurelia in case she returned. Upon reading the letter, she incinerated it and said she refused to lead in his stead. Chrysalis had hoped the changelings, upon gaining free will, would want to govern themselves. Hearing that, the changelings requested that Luna stay behind for awhile so they could arrange a peace summit. Part of the reason I came here today was to invite you to attend as an Equestrian representative with the other Elements of Harmony, Luna, Cadence, Shining, and myself."

"I thought Shining resigned."

"Technically, yes, but I told him I'd leave the position open to him should he choose to return before I find a suitable replacement. He's taking the opportunity to spend some quality time with Cadence for the first time since the wedding reception. As per her request, I haven't been looking too hard."

"I'm glad. After all they've been through, they deserve a happy ending."

Several minutes passed. Twilight and Celestia were content to enjoy each other's company in silence, for all the nagging doubts and worries that had plagued them had been resolved. All except one.

"What about Spike?" Twilight asked.

"You shouldn't worry," Celestia said. "Most dragons who aren't involved in the migration leave the nest at his age anyway. The incident in Ponyville is an example of what often happens—a dragon's size is actually a poor indicator of his age after his hoarding instinct surfaces."

Twilight giggled. "I can see why the dragon who tried to nap in the mountains outside Ponyville was so opposed to letting Rarity near his treasure."

"From the description in your report, I doubt he was older than a century. His natural form wouldn't be much bigger than the teenage dragons who pestered Spike at the migration, whereas their natural forms wouldn't be much bigger than Spike's. Though the instinct exists to help dragons protect themselves, Spike has shown himself to be cunning enough to take care of himself even in his natural form. That he has a beautiful changeling to accompany him can only be a plus."

Twilight walked toward the clear window that covered the far wall and observed the moonlit cityscape. She knew Celestia's words were meant to be reassuring, but she couldn't help feeling another pang of jealousy. Ever since she'd first seen her perform at the Summer Sun Celebration, Twilight had had a schoolfilly crush on Celestia. As she got older, Twilight had realized it wasn't worth getting worked up over, but something changed last time they saw each other. Twilight shook her head. Celestia had the right to be interested in whomever she pleased, and so did Spike. "What about Aurelia? You said some original signers of the Draconian-Equestrian Treaty are still alive. Won't she die long before him?"

Celestia walked up beside her. "Were she a pony, yes, but changeling biology is different from what one might expect, or perhaps it's exactly what one might expect, given that love is the core of a changeling's being."

Twilight tore her eyes away from the shooting star streaking across the sky and looked up at her. "What do you mean? I haven't found much information on changeling biology."

"None of our scholars have studied the matter in any depth. If things go well at the summit, you could be the first."

Twilight smiled.

"In any case, I happen to know from experience that Aurelia will live to be as old as Spike, but once she goes beyond her normal lifespan, the only thing keeping her alive will be his love. When he dies, or the connection is otherwise severed, withdrawal will kill her."

"I guess that's not so bad. When one partner dies in an old pony couple, the other often follows. With luck, Spike and Aurelia will steal a few centuries before that happens."

Celestia sighed. "I almost envy them. As you may have guessed, my love made Chrysalis immortal even when we weren't together anymore. Had I taken the chance, we could have been together for all eternity, or at least until someone more competent than Legate Cassius planned my assassination."

Twilight wasn't sure how to feel. On one hoof, she felt sorry for her. Eternity was an awfully long time to spend alone, assuming Celestia lived that long. Then again, she had Luna, so it could be worse. On the other hoof, Twilight felt jealous of Chrysalis. Eternity with Celestia would be heaven, assuming heaven existed. Twilight was as secular as a magical talking pony with a magenta star on her flank could be while standing next to a physical goddess. She realized she'd been quiet for awhile. "I was inconsiderate when I found out about you and Chrysalis. The circumstances could have been better, but that's no excuse. You loved her, and I ought to respect that."

Celestia nuzzled Twilight's neck. Pulling away, she saw the scar where the changeling's fangs had punctured, barely distinguishable as two shallow depressions under Twilight's fur. "You shouldn't be so hard on yourself. You're the one who suggested I speak with Luna even though you didn't know what was bothering me at the time. Thanks to you, I got closure for which I've been long overdue."

Twilight smiled. "I'm glad."

"I may even be ready to open my heart to another." Celestia winked.

Twilight blushed. Unable to stop herself, she said in her sultriest voice, "If I didn't know better, Princess, I'd think you were trying to seduce me."

Celestia rolled her eyes. "Twilight, if I were trying to seduce you, would I be wearing a skimpy maid outfit?"

Twilight blushed deeper.

"You naughty, naughty filly." Celestia grinned. "I'll have to file that knowledge away for later."

Twilight laughed nervously and stepped back. "I was joking. You know, because I joke about that sort of thing. Not because you look incredibly sexy and I've always wanted to—I'm going to stop talking now."

"Please, finish. I'm curious about what you've always wanted to do."

"Besides, even if we were interested in each other like that, we could only be together as long as my short, mortal lifespan permits. I wouldn't want to put you through that."

Celestia's grin softened into a smile. "I thought about that, but the finiteness of life makes the time I'd share with a mortal lover all the more precious, so if an attractive young mare should decide to make known the crush she's tried to keep secret from me for all the years we've known each other, I might be inclined to take the chance."

Of course she knew. She had had millenniums of experience reading ponies, and Twilight was as open a book as they came. Heart pounding, horn glowing, and body moving of its own accord, Twilight stood on her hind legs and wrapped her forelegs around the base of Celestia's neck. With all the warmth and passion of two star-crossed lovers reuniting after centuries apart, Twilight brought her lips to meet Celestia's.

The maid outfit fell to the floor in an afterglow of purple magic as Celestia melted into the kiss. Nothing ever felt so right.

Twilight pulled away long enough to express a breathy sentiment, "Let's not waste any time, then."

"Such boldness is unusual for you, but I'm inclined to agree."

"I think I got it from Aurelia."

Celestia sat on her haunches, spread her wings, and laid her back against the floor, pulling Twilight on top of her.

Twilight yelped as their bare coats brushed together.

Celestia wrapped her wings around her, holding her tight as they shared a longer, deeper kiss.

Twilight felt Celestia's heartbeat.

Meanwhile, their dinner sat alone and forgotten on the table, where it would remain for quite some time.