It was the sky that was the worst thing about this place, Tirek had decided. Or, more correctly, it was the lack of sky. There was no rising and falling of the sun and moon overhead to mark the passage of time, just a near-endless ceiling of grey-brown stone. Crazed and fissured, it stretched off until it faded from view in the deep violet shadows of an infinite (hah!) twilight.
Others might have said it was the stillness, for there was not the slightest breath of wind or gentlest of breezes to stir the air. Or perhaps they would have found the quiet most disturbing, punctuated only by the occasional distant plaintive howl or screams of bestial rage from other inmates hidden from view in the gloom. But such things were of little concern to one such as Lord Tirek, and even the thick iron bars of his cage represented no more than a minor annoyance, an impediment to be overcome in the due course of time.
He even considered it a mixed blessing that normal circadian rhythms had been placed in suspension by this place. No hunger or thirst he felt, and no desire for sleep or bouts of wakefulness either; just an all-pervasive sense of lethargy that emanated from the very stones themselves.
No, it was the lack of sky, and what it represented, that bothered him the most. For all Tirek knew he could have been imprisoned for ten days or a thousand years. The only thing that ever really changed was the occasional patrolling of Cerberus, the three-headed gigantic hound of a jailor and his only companion in eternity. However, those patrols occurred so inconsistently that they were exceedingly poor markers for noting the passage of time.
Cerberus… the beast was passing now, marching steadily along the stony path at the base of Tirek’s mountain peak prison cell. He watched Cerberus strut by and felt the burning contempt for his jailor prick at the edges of his lethargy.
Tirek was about to turn away to return to his brooding and scheming when Cerberus halted, sniffing at the air and ears pricking in all directions. Tirek saw the Hound of Tartarus assume an aggressive stance, all three heads snarling at something that moved in the murky shadows. Intrigued now, Tirek climbed slowly to his hooves and pressed against the cold iron bars of the cage for a better view.
Cerberus’ demeanour changed significantly as a figure trotted into view. Though appearing tiny from this distance, and even more so against the imposing bulk of the Hound, the figure was immediately made distinguishable by its pale white coat and pastel multi-hued flowing mane and tail as-
“Celestia…” Lord Tirek hissed softly, the first sound to pass his lips since his re-imprisonment.
Cerberus grew playful and frolicsome, almost puppyish, as Celestia slowly approached. It eagerly wagged its tail and leaned forward so that Celestia could scratch each head in turn, rewarding the pony princess with licks to the face that nearly bowled her over. She shooed the beast away, then began to ascend the broad stone steps that cut their way back and forth up the mountain to Tirek’s prison.
Tirek held his rage in check as he watched Celestia climb into view; posturing and threats would be pointless, and he would not give her the satisfaction of knowing how deeply his hatred ran. Instead, he watched closely as she approached, the gentle clip-clopping of her metal-clad hooves disturbing the silence. To Tirek’s surprise, she did not acknowledge him, or offer him greeting. Instead, she seemed more interested in examining the glowing white stone circle that formed the floor of the mountain top, followed by an even closer examination of the dark metal bars of his prison cage.
“Making sure that your prize prisoner is still secure, Celestia?” he finally jeered at her, as she completed her fourth circuit of the plateau. “If you’ve come seeking any apologies, then you’ve wasted your time. And if you’ve come to express your pity,” he practically spat the word, unable to keep the venom from his voice any longer. “Then begone with you, for I want none of it.”
Still Celestia remained silent, and continued her circling. Tirek’s eyes narrowed, and he studied the alicorn more closely. There was something… odd about her. Something not quite right; a tightening around the eyes and a meanness of the mouth that didn’t really belong. Either the years had not been kind to the pony princess, or…
“You’re not Celestia.”
It was a stab in the dark, but one that apparently found its mark. There was brief flicker of irritation that traversed “Celestia’s” face, and she finally turned to regard the prisoner.
“And what makes you say that, Tirek?”
The voice, Tirek had to admit, was perfectly Celestia, and for a moment he doubted what he thought he had seen. Still, he pressed on regardless. “How long have I been trapped here, with naught to do but think about those ponies who sent me here? Perhaps you can tell me that, but what I can tell you is that you are not Celestia. So, who are you?” If it really was Celestia, and she thought him foolish or insane, what more could she do to him?
Not-Celestia’s eyes narrowed dangerously as she regarded Tirek through the bars of the cage. “Most astute,” she finally muttered. She glanced about, confirming that Cerberus was not in view, then trotted to stand near one of the jagged stone spires that loomed over the prison cell, concealing herself from outside observation. There was a flash of green fire that spiralled around “Celestia”, revealing her true form as it travelled from hoof to horn: a black, chitinous hide; semi-transparent insectile wings, riddled with holes; bedraggled sickly blue-green mane and tail; and a long snaggled horn perched atop a face that regarded Tirek with heavy-lidded eyes that shone with amusement.
Tirek gave a start of surprise. “The changeling!” he exclaimed.
“Chrysalis, queen of the changelings,” she insisted, her voice a raspy buzz. “I’m almost flattered that you know of me, Lord Tirek.”
Tirek scowled and turned away from Chrysalis, crossing his scrawny arms across his torso. “If you’ve come here to mock me, to see me caged and laid low, then my response remains the same as when I thought you to be Celestia; begone with you! I have no interest in capering for your amusement.”
Chrysalis tut-tutted and trotted closer, resuming the appearance of Celestia with a flash of green flame as she did so. “I’ve expended a great deal of my resources in tracking you down, Tirek, so let me assure you that I’m here for your benefit as much as my own.” She gently caressed a bar of the cage, then withdrew her hoof with a slight shudder. “In fact, I’m here to help you.”
“Help me?” Tirek turned, raising an eyebrow. “Why? Do you seek to establish an alliance?”
“Nothing quite so formal, my dear,” Chrysalis said, in the voice of Celestia. “I’m here to offer you my friendship.”
The scowl returned to Tirek’s face. “I have no need of your friendship, nor do I desire it,” he growled.
Chrysalis laughed then, long and loud, the sound echoing off the hard stone and so oddly out of place in such dismal surrounds. Tirek stared impassively at the changeling, and eventually her laughter subsided to chuckles. “My dear Tirek,” she said, wiping away small tears of mirth from her face. “Were it in my power I’d free you right this instant for your sense of humour alone. Look around,” she gestured expansively at the shadows and stone, stretching as far as the eye could see. “If there was ever a creature more desperately in need of a friend, it’s you!”
“If I were to accept your offer of… assistance, Chrysalis, what do you expect from me in return?” Tirek asked, his voice ripe with contempt.
“Expect?” Chrysalis sounded genuinely surprised. “Why, nothing, of course. Is that not how friendships work? No, I have no expectations of you; however, I do hope that you will come to see this for the mutually beneficial arrangement that I believe it will become… a sharing of ideas and a strengthening of weaknesses. You,” she pointed a hoof at Tirek. “Are an individual capable of possessing great power and strength, whereas I have the guile and cunning of an entire of army of changelings at my disposal. I honestly believe there is a great deal we could learn from each other.”
“And when you’ve learned from me all that you can, you will betray me, won’t you? Changelings are hardly known for their trustworthiness.” He sneered and turned his back on Chrysalis once again. “No, thank you, I think I’ll pass.”
Chrysalis made a vexed sound. “You’re hardly one to speak of trustworthiness. My scouts tell me that you had all of Equestria in your grasp, and you chose to throw it all away because you could not share with Discord!”
“And you’re hardly one to accuse others of failure,” Tirek said, mockingly. “Didn’t you take command of Canterlot, only to have you and your entire army of changelings defeated by only two little ponies?”
Chrysalis’ eyes flashed green with annoyance, but she took a deep breath and composed herself. “A… slight miscalculation on my behalf,” she admitted. “Which only serves to prove my points. But we were speaking of trust, and betrayal, before we were sidetracked. You wish some proof, perhaps? A demonstration of my genuine intentions?” The long unicorn’s horn atop the faux-Celestia’s head began glowing green. “Very well, I offer you some of my magic, free of risk or obligation.” She smiled, a wicked grin completely alien to Celestia’s features. “All you have to do is trust me.”
Tirek stared dubiously at the sparkling aura for several long moments. Even if she were not speaking truthfully, even a small increase in strength from her magic would greatly increase his chances of eventually breaking free; and surely the cage protected him from harm as much as it also imprisoned him? Slowly, mistrust gave way to temptation, and he opened his jaws. A thin stream of emerald flowed from the tip of Chrysalis’ horn, causing the illusion of Celestia to flicker out. Tirek felt power flow into him, strengthening his feeble limbs; but at the same time, he felt something flowing out. His thoughts became blurred and fuzzy, and he felt a sudden urge to blindly follow Chrysalis’ words, to bow to her will.
With a gasp he shook away the feeling and slammed a fist weakly against the bars of the cage. His own feeding upon Chrysalis’ magic was halted as pain shot up his arm, quickly joined by a dull, throbbing headache behind his eyes. “What… what was that?” he panted. “You tricked me!”
Chrysalis shook her head, reeling slightly. “No, merely a demonstration, as was promised. Just as you feed on magic, changelings feed on love; and those we feed on can be made to do our bidding.” She staggered almost drunkenly.
Tirek’s skull was pounding now, the heady rush of both feeding and being fed upon making it difficult to think. “Love?” he snarled, wincing and clutching his brow. “I have no love!”
Chrysalis shook her head vigorously, then sagged against the cage, steadying herself from the sudden onslaught of dizziness. “That’s where you are wrong, Tirek. You have a love of power, a love of control, a love of vengeance. It is a thin and weak love, bitter and sour compared to the love possessed by ponies, but love nonetheless. The truth is I believe that, once you are free, I may be able to teach you how to feed on love and control those you steal from. Likewise, I’m hoping to learn how you devour magic and use it to grow stronger.”
Shortly the pain subsided, allowing Tirek to regain his composure and gather his thoughts. He eyed Chrysalis speculatively as she returned her appearance to that of Celestia once again. “The ponies… their magic and their love; you believe they might be related, don’t you?” He stroked his beard. “It is an interesting theory.”
Chrysalis nodded; she could feel now that Tirek was warming to her proposal. “I have been studying the ponies, and what I’ve learned of their history and those Elements of Harmony certainly seems to support it.”
“And what if I were to still say ‘no’ to your offer of friendship?” Tirek asked, though his tone suggested that it was only a rhetorical question. “What would you do then? Leave me here to my fate?”
“Originally I might have said yes, and left you here to suffer, thinking nothing of it. But, now… now that I have seen you and this place with my own eyes, I would still choose to try and free you.” She sneered, the expression ugly on Celestia’s face. “Even if I knew that you would waste this opportunity I present to you, and go about your own course of action, I’d still free you. If nothing else you will serve as a useful distraction as I go about my own plans, while the alicorn princesses inevitably capture you once again.” Chrysalis smiled, almost coyly. “Call it a… kindness, if you will.”
The two contemplated each other in silence for a short spell, Chrysalis carefully hiding the growing excitement she felt as the mistrustful scowl slowly eased from Tirek's features.
“Friendship,” Tirek said eventually. “Friendship not as chains that bind, or as a weakness to be exploited; but a complimenting of strengths and alloying against flaws. Something that can be shaped to our purposes and wielded as we see fit… friendship as a weapon.”
“Yes!” Chrysalis hissed excitedly. “Now you begin to see what I have come to understand, to think what can be achieved if we use the ponies' own weapons against them.”
“Very well, ” Tirek replied. “You’ve demonstrated your point. I accept your offer of friendship, and extend my own in return.”
“Excellent.” Visions of a swarm of changeling warriors grown large and powerful with stolen magic danced in Chrysalis’ imagination, and she chuckled gleefully. “To friendship, then; and the downfall of Equestria.” Her horn, sheathed in emerald green, touched a bar of Tirek’s prison.
“To friendship,” Tirek agreed. His dark eyes sparkling evilly at the thoughts of a nation of ponies mindlessly bowing down before Lord Tirek, causing him to chuckle in return. He gripped the same bar that Chrysalis touched with her horn. “Now, let’s make some magic!”
Slowly, the bar started to bend...
