No One Mourns the Wicked

by The11thWonder

Rating: teen
Tags: Princess Celestia, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Sad, Queen Chrysalis
Length: 2008

The Changelings are undone; but the last words of their race are yet to be read, and Celestia is about to learn what it feels like to have the blood of a race on one's hooves.

After the defeat of the Chrysalis, Celestia wonders if things could be different between the races of Changeling and Pony. Perhaps the Changelings could be taught to live in harmony with ponies, and Changelings could finally have a land to call their home.

But what if it's too late? What if there are no Changelings left?

What if they had all been sent to their deaths?

Rated teen for slightly dark themes.
Proofread by the fabulous bobdat!

Really quick short inspired by the song of the same name from the musical Wicked. No knowledge of the musical is necessary to understand this fic, it's just a regular ol' pony universe fic.
And wouldn't you know it, the story has 2003 words, the same year Wicked came out! (Don't trust the word count on-site, it doesn't know what's up. Trust me.)

Oh, and, whoever says descriptions are easy to write is a downright liar.

Published 2014-03-26 03:10:02 UTC
Last updated 2014-03-26 03:10:02 UTC

The Last Words of a Dying Race

Princess Celestia of Equestria sat alone in her bedchambers, lit only by a softly flaming hearth and dim moonlight shining through her opaque drapes. She resisted the urge to tap her hoof on the ground; only minutes ago, a member of her personal guard had informed her that Captain Starbright, leader of the Royal Guard Reconnaissance Corps, had arrived at the palace, and Celestia eagerly awaited his arrival.

It did not take long for the Captain to make his way to her chambers. A trusty unicorn, he was a nightly guard outside her door before she had assigned him to the recently-created Reconnaissance Corps. A firm but respectful knock at her large, gilded door signaled his arrival.

“Come in, please.”

Captain Starbright opened the ornate door and trotted dutifully into the room. He hadn’t wanted to give this report, but as both Captain of the Reconnaissance Corps and a close friend of Celestia’s, it had to come from him.

He hid his feelings behind the stoic mask all members of the Royal Guard wore, albeit with less conviction. He and Celestia had shared a long history of trust and friendship; he knew he could be more relaxed around the Princess. However, that care only made this job all the more difficult to do. With a sharp salute, he gave his report, wanting nothing more than to get this over with.

“Princess Celestia, we have found the last vestiges of the Changelings in the badlands, located in a cave system to the north-east of Raven Rock.”

“And what of the Changelings themselves, Starbright?”

The Captain let out an uncomfortable cough and looked away; no Royal Guard ever liked disappointing the Princess.

“We didn’t find any alive, Princess. There might have been a small splinter group that separated from the whole, but around ninety-five percent of the remaining Changeling population were in the caves… all dead.”

Celestia’s hopes deflated rapidly. “Did you find…” Celestia looked to the guard, not wanting to finish the thought. Not wanting to say the words.

“Yes, your majesty,” the Captain said, “we located the body of Queen Chrysalis in the deepest part of the cave system they had been hiding in.”

Celestia let out a deep sigh. Over her many years of life she had come to cherish not only the lives of her little ponies, but all life in Equestria, large or small, good or evil. It had started with her sister: when Luna fell, Celestia could not bring herself to destroy her, knowing that Nightmare Moon was only a product of fear, desperation, and circumstance. Celestia thought that if she was banished, perhaps she would be able to overcome the darkness that surrounded her heart, and be Celestia’s beloved sister once more.

But this did not work. When Luna returned, she was still corrupted by Nightmare Moon; nothing had changed. Celestia was fortunate that Twilight Sparkle and her friends were in the right place at the right time; she didn’t think she could battle Nightmare Moon again. Celestia counted the near loss of her sister among her greatest failures in life.

Still, Celestia believed—desperately wanted to believe—that all life was inherently good, that all creatures, no matter how evil, could make a conscious choice to be good. To do better. When Queen Chrysalis had attacked Canterlot, Celestia knew she had been desperate. She and her guards had been tracking the Hive for years, and knew they had been run ragged. It had been months since they had fed off a large population, and the Princess knew their only hope for survival had been a large-scale attack. However, Celestia didn’t know they were desperate enough to attack the capital of Equestria.

Even after the changelings had been forced from Canterlot, Princess Celestia believed that they could still be shown a good, wholesome way to live that didn’t involve abducting entire populations to use as emotional cattle to feed their hive. She had been desperately searching for the last of the changelings so that they may be saved; she didn’t want an entire race to die because of their misfortune of existing.

Her hopes were crushed with the captain’s admission. Chrysalis was dead, and without a Queen, changelings could not survive long, even if any were still alive. She closed her eyes and dipped her head slightly. She was about to dismiss Captain Starbright, when he spoke up once more.

“Your majesty…” he hesitated. “When we located Chrysalis’ corpse-” Celestia inwardly shrunk at the word- “we had found in her possession a letter, next to writing supplies that had been used in the last few days.” Captain Starbright pulled a sealed envelope from a pouch on his armor.

“What does it say?” Celestia asked, nearly afraid of the answer.

“We have not read it,” Starbright admitted. “It is against Royal Guard policy to ever read letters addressed to either of the Princesses; in this case, you.”

Celestia’s practiced expression of calm belied her surprise. “Thank you Captain, you may leave the letter and I will attend to it immediately. If that is all, you are dismissed.” Calm. Indifferent. Sovereign-like.

Starbright turned to leave, but hesitated before he opened the door. A quick look back revealed nothing. Celestia remained stoic and impartial, eyes trained on him. He knew better.

“I’m… I’m sorry, Celestia.” When Celestia hung her head and didn’t utter a word, Captain Starbright left, closing the door behind him.

And just like that, Princess Celestia was alone again. The only outward sign that anything was amiss was her dipped head, shoulders only slightly slumped, and an uncharacteristic frown that split her mask of stoicism like a crack through marble. Looking inward, one would be amazed that Celestia had not broken down into sobbing by now.

She had failed.

The Queen of the Changelings was dead, surrounded by the corpses of her children, all of whom Celestia had failed to save. An entire sentient race had just gone extinct, and though she knew she had done all she could, she blamed herself. Chrysalis had died, and with what were to be her last moments in this world, she had written Celestia a letter.

Princess Celestia was not prepared. She did not think she would ever be prepared to read what was in that envelope. And so she didn’t. For what seemed like a lifetime, Celestia was sat alone in her chambers, now only illuminated by moonlight, the warm fire having long since vacated the hearth. Her eyes never left the envelope, as if convinced that staring at it could make it stop existing.

However, as Celestia knew perhaps better than any, all problems had to be faced in time. With heavy hooves and an equally heavy heart, she slowly walked over to the table the Captain had left the envelope on, and raised it in the sunny glow of her magic.

A deft and practiced flick of her magic later, the envelope was opened and shed to the ground, leaving only the letter floating before her. She drew a deep breath before unfolding the parchment, and began to read the elegant, deliberate writing.

~ooOoo~

My children are dying around me.

Weakened to the point of death, what is left of my race, my children, are withering. Nothing can describe the sorrow that crushes me like a ton of rock each time I feel one of my children die. One instant, I can feel them, feel their pain and their hunger. Their fear. And then, the next instant, they are gone. And soon, I will be gone as well.

Ever since I was old enough to hear it, my mother, the previous Matron of the Hive, told me that there would come a time when we wouldn’t have to live in the shadows. She told me that there would come a time when we wouldn’t have to hide in skin that isn’t ours, behind faces not our own. She spoke of a time when our kind could be free, and wouldn’t have to be balanced on the edge of perpetual starvation for eternity. She called it the Dream of the Changelings. It was all she ever thought about. She obsessed with it, night and day, always working towards the Dream.

However, when she was on the brink of death, she knew she would not see her kind breathe free in her lifetime, and so she passed her dream unto me. She thought I would be the one to bring our race into the light, to finally grant freedom to all Changelingkind.

But I wasn’t. I couldn’t. I was never able to take the necessary risks to fulfill my mother’s dream. I was always more concerned with keeping my children safe. I suppose it’s a touch ironic; in the end, my love for my children is what killed them. And it will be the death of me, as well.

Well, if I am to die, I will die with as clear a conscience as possible.

Celestia-

For what it’s worth, I am sorry. I never wanted to harm you or your subjects. I wanted only to keep my children safe. I imagine you can relate; you move celestial bodies for your subjects daily. But we can’t all be as powerful as you, Celestia. Some of us aren’t immortal. We have to adapt to changing circumstances to stay alive. These changing circumstances are what forced me to attack. The hive was starving, and it seemed there was nothing that could keep us from death. And so, we became desperate. I infiltrated Canterlot, abducted one of the most powerful ponies in the kingdom, and posed as her at her wedding, which would be officiated by the most powerful pony in the kingdom, yourself. Needless to say, I didn’t expect to survive, and it was likely I wouldn’t have if your sister had been around.

Even if I had succeeded, it wouldn’t have mattered. The Elements of Harmony would have somehow been brought to bear against me, or your sister would have returned, and after our brief but intense exchange, I was in no position to battle another Alicorn. I was doomed either way. And even if I had somehow managed to hold control of the city, my children would forever be scorned as monsters; my children would never be free, and I knew it. But it didn’t matter, it was either that or death.

Celestia, please understand. What I did, I did for my children. I don’t expect you to forgive me. I don’t even expect you to get this. But if, by some miracle, you get this letter, this is me. This is who I amwas. I was a Queen, but even more than that, I was a mother. I loved my children with all my being, and everything I did, I did for them.

Goodbye Celestia. Please forgive me.

~ooOoo~

Celestia sat in silence. She had not expected this. Truthfully, she hadn’t really expected anything. With each passing moment the silence grew more and more deafening, before Celestia could no longer face the letter, and threw it from her sight.

She had wanted to save Chrysalis. She had wanted to show her that evil was not the way, and that ponies and Changelings could coexist in harmony. But Chrysalis was never evil. She did what she had to; a product of fear, desperation, and circumstance. And Celestia had missed her by only a few days.

Celestia let forth a sigh that came from her very core, which shook loose a single tear that rolled down her pristine white cheek. Another name to add to her long list of failures.

Emotionally spent, Celestia laid down on her soft, downy bed, wondering guiltily if a Changeling had ever felt such comfort. Settled down in her sheets, only a few more tears escaped before sleep took her.

That night, Princess Celestia pondered all of the what-ifs, and what-might-have-beens.

That night, Princess Celestia dreamt of forgiveness.

That night, Princess Celestia mourned the Changelings.