Princess Celestia lay on her bed with her eyes closed and forelegs crossed, the glow from her horn subsiding and sweat beading her forehead. Her breaths came in long, deep huffs that steadied with each subsequent breath, and her body relaxed. The Solar guard standing at attention at the edge of Celestia's large bed looked on with a small, concerned smile on his face. Slowly rising above, the moon was assuming its role in the last vestiges of sunlight, washing the edges of the room in silver, flickering lamplight illuminating the rest. After a few minutes had passed, Celestia broke her trance with a sigh and regarded the guard beside her, forming a small smile of her own.
"Has word of the attack been sent to my sister?"
"I sent her a dragonfire scroll as soon as the changelings were dealt with. I told her everything we knew at the time, but she hasn't sent anything back," he said. "You should write to her after you've rested."
Celestia let out slight scoff. "Yes, Targe, you're right. Silver Beak is probably hounding poor luna about the attack as we speak. He's always so paranoid."
A golden glow shone through the salve covering the tip of Celestia's horn as she levitated a quill and scroll to be ready at her desk, wincing as she did so. Celestia took a deep breath and let out a long sigh as the glow dissipated around the objects and faded from her horn. Targe frowned slightly as he watched.
"Thank you, Targe. You handled this attack well, and I know you are tired. But I need you out there to keep the Guard in order and the ponies of Canterlot calm while the Captain and I recover."
"I will, Your Highness. Now, get what rest you can," he said, his smile returning, and gave a slight bow. Steady Targe blew out the lamp lighting the room and headed for the door, but paused in the doorway.
"It's been a hell of a day." With another, deeper bow, Targe left the room and closed the door behind him.
"Yes it has."
Closing her eyes, Celestia again relaxed into her bed, waiting for sleep to ease her. However, the dull aching throughout her body refused to fade. After hours of restless turning, Celestia got up from her bed and lit an oil lamp with a flicker of her horn. Donning a simple robe, she opened the glass doors to her castle balcony and sat behind the railing.
From her balcony Celestia could see the lamplights of Canterlot's windows twinkling in the night, taking the place of the cloud-obscured stars. Sparce, shadowed figures populated the city's streets, passing between the lamp posts, and the meager amount of moonlight passing through the clouds cast the city in bluish-silver dusk. But even in the darkness the changelings' mark was visible on the city. The dark pits of craters filled the streets and black holes peppered the roofs of homes, half illuminated by scant, still-burning fires.
Miraculously, nopony had been killed in the attack, and the changelings made no move to do so, but as Celestia gazed out across the city she imagined what she might have seen had the changelings tried. How many windows would be dark? How many forms would walk the streets? As she watched, Celestia remembered another city buried in the Everfree that looked eerily similar. Always my blindness. I'm sorry, Twilight. She lay down and beheld the city as teams of pegasi released rain from the clouds to quench what fires remained.
There she stayed until the drops reached her. Closing the glass doors behind her, she reentered, filling the room with the pitter-patter of rainfall against glass. Celestia began walking to her desk but stopped when she heard something scuffling. She angled her ears, but when the sound did not come again, she quietly approached the source of the noise: her closet doors. She looked, frozen, at the small, almost invisible spatter of blood on the stone floor beneath them before her expression hardened and she gingerly opened one of the doors.
Celestia lit the closet lamps with a spark of golden magic, illuminating the spacious room and pouring their flickering light across the gamut of jewelry, dresses and regalia. She eyed the apparel suspiciously for anything out of place. Presently, she heard another scuffle and immediately threw apart two gowns hanging on the far side only to reveal the bare wall behind them. Celestia's gaze swept the room once more, scrutinizing every inch, but not a sound or sight stood out as she scoured the closet.
A large yawn forced its way from her throat, and she slowly turned, wearily leaving the closet. But right as she reached the threshold, she heard a yelp and the entire room erupted in a cacophony of falling dresses and jewelry. Celestia spun back, horn blazing, pointing it at the new pile of garments at the back of the room. Immediately, the dresses and jewelry were surrounded in a haze of gold and flung away to reveal a changeling staring up at Celestia, eyes and mouth wide open in utter terror. Seeing the being of sheer power before it, the changeling looked away, covered it's head and dropped to the floor, trembling.
Celestia moved forward, scowling, horn and eyes flaring.
And she stopped. The changeling shaking before her was small, much smaller than any in the attack. Immediately, all essence of power vanished from her. Celestia glanced behind her to see that no guards had come running at the clamor and cast a worried look at the trembling filly. As Celestia's mind turned the changeling continued to cower beneath her until she realized the lack of searing light and pain. The changeling lifted her head to stare with wet eyes up at Celestia, whose own eyes were pointed, unseeing, at her.
Celestia broke her trance to see the little changeling still shaking, staring up at her, coiled into herself as if she could hide in her own body. The changeling had a large purple and white flower nestled in her mane, and Celestia saw the soft, wavering lamplight reflected in her slitted, violet eyes. She paused at the sight of them, but only for a brief moment.
Soft, golden light slowly returned to Celestia's horn and surrounded the little changeling. She yelped and flailed her legs as she was lifted in the golden aura of magic. Celestia floated her out of the closet and gently placed the filly in the middle of her large bed. A warm smile tugged on Celestia's lips as the filly changeling watched her approach with her head cocked to the side, the flower swaying gently.
Slowly climbing onto the lush sheets with the filly, Celestia curled around her but did not touch her. The little changeling cringed as she did so but did not move, and, after a few minutes of easing, the changeling relaxed as Celestia's warmth spread into her. Celestia smiled and giggled warmly to herself as the filly nestled closer. The changeling chittered something that sounded vaguely like a question and looked up at Celestia expectantly. She gave a pained frown.
"I'm sorry, little one. I don't understand."
The little changeling frowned but laid her head back down. Spreading a wing over the filly, Celestia remained motionless until she heard her fall asleep. As Celestia watched the filly sleeping in her embrace and saw her drying cheeks, her smile became a concerned frown.
"Why are you here little one?" She whispered. The little changeling unconsciously scooted closer into her living blanket and smiled contently as she resumed a restful sleep. Celestia's smile returned. She laughed inwardly, and her heart fluttered at the filly's antics. She sighed and whispered, "I guess I need to call you something, don't I, little one?" The flower in the filly's mane swayed gently as she breathed.
"Iris."
