Love in Time Immemorial
Cadence wept. In the royal garden of Canterlot Castle, she laid a single rose over the grave of her husband. Raising her head, she saw the place where she and Shining Armor had been married, so long ago.
Next to her, Twilight Sparkle, her mane gray and her skin wrinkled, leaned her head on Cadence’s shoulder. They had not spoken all that day. They had not had to. That they stood together on this day was the final display of the lesson they had learned: that when a stallion had a wife and a sister who both loved him, the love was not divided but multiplied. Somehow Shining Armor had always found time for both.
Cadence wore a black veil. Although her body had not aged since maturity, it gave her the dignity of the widow. She reflected. She had always known that this day would come, the payment of a debt that she had taken on when she chose to marry a mortal. She regretted nothing. This fact did not stop her tears.
Her aunts had given her instruction in what it meant to be deathless among the dying, but she, not yet two hundred years of age, had not taken it to heart. Might she marry again? She would not say at that time. She would have plenty of time in the future.
She was greeted and comforted by her other friends. Fluttershy, heart so kind. To merely be in her presence eased Cadence’s pain. Rarity, whose emotions and the design of her black dress might make an onlooker think that she was the one who had lost a husband, and whose empathy Cadence felt. Pinkie Pie, around whom nopony could help smiling. Cadence would never object to a pony who laughed, even in a graveyard.
And two empty places in line. Rainbow Dash and Applejack. Cadence could feel them only in spirit. Both had lived full lives. She had stood proudly at their funerals. Would they be waiting for Shining Armor, wherever he was now? He would need friends.
This was the secret pain she could only share with Celestia and Luna, and neither of them had married mortals. Everypony else, every Earth pony who wed a unicorn, every pegasus who wed another pegasus, every one, could someday hope that they would meet their beloveds again, somewhere beyond all knowledge. Cadence could not hope. She would never see Shining Armor again.
And Shining Armor would never see Cadence.
He—or rather his body, for Cadence knew that the identity of Shining Armor was no longer in the frame—was bedecked in the uniform of the Captain of the Guard, even though he had long since passed those duties onto younger and more vibrant stallions. He lay in the ground without a casket, only a black cloth beneath him. In the pony tradition, the proper place for a body was in the earth whence it came.
Through the tears in her eyes and through the veil, she saw the body as it was so long ago, on the day they married. So much had happened that day. So much had happened since.
So much life left to live.
Was there none who she could turn to for true sympathy? Was there none who could understand? Was there none other who would know what it meant to be forever starved of the love of Shining Armor?
And then she had her answer. The logic of it was tainted only by the bitter taste of a long memory. But Cadence was an alicorn, who would live forever. If she were to hold grudges, they would consume her. Forgiveness was a survival quality.
The other mourners had proceeded out into the square. She was left alone. She leaned her head down and kissed him one last time. She returned to her room at the castle. She made her preparations.
When she asked for an audience with the royal sisters, she was of course brought in immediately. Their time was at her call, they informed her. She told them of her quest, the quest she would undertake. She concealed nothing. They would understand that much.
A long search. What is long to an immortal? When her aunt could spend a thousand years imprisoned and be restored with no malice in her heart, could Cadence complain about mere weeks of leads that went nowhere? Could she feel the months that flew by like seconds as she searched on rumor? The times she would have to divert from her quest far away and return for royal duty, or merely to see her mortal friends in the time they had left—did those matter?
Throughout Equestria, through the Everfree forest, through nameless and trackless lands, to the edges of the world, Cadence searched. At last she came to the place. It had to be the place. She had been everywhere else, for one. But she would have known even if she had come here first.
It was a wasteland. Craggy and twisted rocks were all the land had to offer. Nothing grew. Nothing tried. Nothing lived. Steam rose from unseen vents and rain dripped from cold clouds. The wind carried only a lament in its voice.
Into the center of the land Cadence marched. The land had only become more dreary and forbidding. Black and gray stone, broken only by veins of ice, formed the landscape. A hill stood, and at a certain angle provided all there was in terms of shelter.
To this Cadence came at last, and there she saw the one for whom she had quested for so long. One who she had seen only briefly, and that so long ago. There on the ground, still bent, torn, and twisted, still with only a few strands of hair and with a broken and perforated body, lay Chrysalis, queen of the changelings.
One eye was blinded. Half her body was paralyzed. Around her, six of the foul creatures lay, their heads up against the queen like kittens suckling at their mother. Chrysalis opened her one good eye, and saw Cadence.
“You?! After all this time, you?! Now I know that I am cursed, damned more than any creature ever to walk this world. Now at my end, when at last I looked forward to rest, I am instead made to relive my downfall. Very well, I accept it. Say your piece, alicorn.”
“Chrysalis. Tell me what has befallen you.”
“Do you not know? After my failure, after you banished me quite forcefully from your home, all I could do was to lead the remnants of my people here. No other place would have us. Stripped of our power to mimic and steal the love we need to survive, the changelings starved.
“No, you would not know. You appear before me in the same splendor as I last saw you. You know nothing of seeing your people, your children, those who you are bound and sworn to protect, growing weak and frail. Passing one by one. Forced into cannibalism, feeding on the dead to gain one more stay of execution. Staying alive one more day to know that tomorrow you will die. Living without hope.
“And you would know nothing of the impotence of watching that. Having to see your failure in the last breath of a thousand thousand of your people. And if the changelings had little, then I, Chrysalis, had none. I cannot remember the last time I fed. When we happened upon some small creature that might have the rudiments of the emotion we needed, I would see it and my mouth would water. But I knew I must have none. Why should I? I am immortal.
“At least, I think I am. I hope I am not. These few are all that are left of the changelings, and by my estimation they will soon die too. Perhaps, with no people to rule, I will be allowed to die as well. I would even welcome hell. If nothing else, it would be a change.
“Or perhaps I am already there, and my hell is to be watched over by you, and to see how you have flourished while I have fallen. Yes, that is appropriate for me, to live eternal in starving torment and in the presence of mine enemy who shines out in her health and happiness. Come, mock me! Let it begin!”
Tears formed in Cadence’s eyes. “So much time wasted, so much pain. Chrysalis, you have been guilty of a great error, and in your haste and greed you did not give anypony time to correct it.
“You feed on love. Did you never once consider that you could ensure yourself bounty everlasting, if you but had someone who loved you?”
Chrysalis was speechless. She relived thousands of years and thousands of deaths in a question.
“It is too late. We are dead.”
“You breathe. You have six left. Look into their eyes. See their pleas. See that they still hold out hope. Were you followed for so long out of fear? Whenever you passed the food of love onto your people, was there no love for your sacrifice? Chrysalis, I was your enemy. You would have ruined my life if you had the chance. But that was a long time ago. Will you not let me love you?”
The black head lifted. “You. . . you would love me?”
“I would. Not merely out of pity. You can give me something no one else can, and if you are willing, then I would love you for it.”
“I can give? What have I to give? Who in this world has less than I do?”
“Still you can give it. In all this world, Chrysalis, you are the only one who can let me see Shining Armor again.”
“My power is useless. I don’t have the strength.”
“That is what he said to me, all those years ago. I will give you the same response. My love will give you strength.”
Cadence lowered her head and placed her horn in the crook of Chrysalis’s own twisted appendage. Power flowed between the two. The black queen felt her hunger lessen. She cast her memory back for the image of the stallion she had tried to consume. Slowly, ever so slowly, her coat turned white. Her muscles regenerated. Her spindly bat-wings folded in and became a part of her body. She rose to her feet and took the form of Shining Armor.
“If you would but wear this form at need,” said Cadence, “then I would stay with you forever, and my love for you will never diminish. You will learn that indeed it will grow. I tell you again, this is not pity. It is selfishness. To see Shining Armor again is a gift for which I would exchange my heart.”
Chrysalis, now with a deep masculine voice, said, “And will there be enough for the others to feed as well?”
“All that I have to give. And we can teach them to love among themselves as well. You need not be parasites, consuming your hosts until you yourselves perish. Let me show you how to love and grow. Let these last six be the start of a new race. They will be hardy, since they survived the longest.”
“Hardy? Perhaps,” said Chrysalis. “But do not think that you are the only one who is selfish.”
The changelings began to cry. “Momma! Momma!”
“Momma is here, my dears. She may look a little funny now, but she has someone she wants you to meet. Cadence, is there room in your heart for my children as well?”
“Oh yes, my love. So long as there is room in yours. Come, little ones. Feed off your mother and I. Feel our love for each other and for you. Grow strong, for we have much to build in this world.
“And we only have forever in which to build it,” said Cadence.
