“You’re out of time, PrincessTwilight.”
Chrysalis faced Twilight as they both stood at the edge of a cliff, the wind making their manes dance wispily. The Queen of the Changelings smirked as she circled Twilight, who blinked her eyes and yawned. Chrysalis glowered at Twilight, then paced in front of her.
“Yes, you are out of―” A sigh emerged from Twilight’s mouth.
Chrysalis snapped to face her. “If you’re not going to get in character, I’ll just get someone else!”
Twilight morphed back into a changeling. “I’m sorry, but this is just so dreadfully boring.”
“What’s boring about me practicing my grand monologue when she’s seconds from defeat, Fang?” She asked, a hint of agitation accompanying her voice.
Fang sat down on the grass and rubbed his face. “It’s just… every week, on Saturday, you take me up to this cliff, order me to turn into Twilight, and then run your mouth for ten minutes.”
Chrysalis pursed her lips. She then blinked and trotted towards Fang. “What’s wrong with that? Isn’t that how you practice monologuing?”
“Listen,” Fang said, “you don’t practice monologues. That’s dumb. When have you ever heard of someone practicing that sort of thing?”
Chrysalis huffed and turned away, the wind ceasing and allowing her mane to fall flat. “Well, no one else has survived an encounter with Twilight Sparkle before. I’m pretty sure they all did it on the fly, like I had to at the wedding.” Chrysalis sighed, then faced Fang once more. “I mean, I got the pertinent information out, but it was more of a report than a monologue, you know what I mean?”
Fang groaned. “I was there. You sounded fine.”
“Fine,” Chrysalis pressed, “fine!?” She shoved Fang over and pressed a hoof on his throat. “Fine might be fine for other villains, but it’s not fine for me!”
“Cut the theatrics, I know you’re not going to kill me.” Fang slowly removed Chrysalis’s hoof from his neck, stood up, and dusted himself off. “And why are you labeling yourself as a villain, anyway? That doesn’t seem like a healthy identifier.”
Chrysalis took quick, sharp breaths. “Because she’s a hero! Anyone who faces a hero in mortal combat is by definition a villain!” Chrysalis squeezed her eyes shut. “Don’t you read?”
Fang stared at his Queen, then buried his face in his hoof. “That sounds like something out of a comic book.”
“And other literary sources,” Chrysalis said, blushing a delicate shade of cerulean.
“But it’s from a comic boo―”
“Graphic novels are a valid form of literature!” she roared, flecks of saliva spotting on Fang’s face as the wind picked up.
Fang pressed the bridge of his muzzle. “...Whatever. The point is, there’s no heroes and no villains. Just ponies and changelings.”
“And minotaurs, griffons, dragons, and yaks.”
Fang glared at Chrysalis, who smirked triumphantly. “Yes, there are those races, too. You get a gold star.” Fang dragged the skin on his face down with his hooves. “For being a millennium old, you are such a child.”
“Well,” Chrysalis said as she kicked a rock off of the cliff, “they say staying young mentally is good for the body and mind.” The rock splashed in the ocean.
Fang waved his hoof. “Redirecting back to the original point I was trying to make, there’s no such things as designated heroes or villains. Twilight Sparkle may be a hero to Equestria, but she’s a villain to the Horde.” Fang paced around. “That’s what you keep telling us, anyway.”
“I-I know,” Chrysalis said before she sat down. “I know that’s what I tell you guys. It’s motivation to keep the fight going.”
Fang did a double-take. “What? What do you mean keep the fight going?”
Chrysalis sniffed. “You heard me. Don’t make me repeat myself.”
Fang walked up to Chrysalis and slapped her across the muzzle. “What is wrong with you? You’re telling me that you keep fighting with Twilight knowing you’ll lose and putting us in more and more dire situations each time we lose?”
“Heh.” Chrysalis giggled. “When you put it that way, it sounds kind of dumb.”
Fang turned away and punched the ground. “What purpose does that serve? What benefit does that serve to the Changeling Horde?”
Chrysalis chuckled, stood up, and walked towards the edge of the cliff, the wind whipping her mane around. “It’s… it’s kind of silly. But there’s something romantic about the idea of being locked in an endless struggle with a rival―a foe chosen by fate. The two of you desperately fight, the hero proclaiming a brief victory before you regroup to fight again, the battle never-ending.”
Fang lay down flat on his back. “My stars, I’m governed by a madmare.”
Chrysalis looked over her shoulder to Fang. “Hey, it keeps the troops in peak condition, having an eternal foe.”
Fang hit the ground again. “I realize that, but why does it have to be so that you can live out your insane fantasies?”
Chrysalis looked back over the ocean. “The end justifies the means, Fang.”
Fang stood up and stared at Chrysalis. “No! No, it doesn’t!”
“Who are you to question me?”
Fang stamped his hoof into the ground. “A concerned citizen, that’s who!” Fang cantered in circles. “And to think this could all be over if we just killed Twilight!”
“Well, that doesn’t seem very sporting,” Chrysalis said as she disturbed the earth underneath her hoof slightly.
Fang froze and took in what Chrysalis had said. The wind picked up and caused Chrysalis’s mane and tail to dance gently in the wind. He blinked the tears out of his eyes. “What?”
Chrysalis snorted as she turned around and walked to Fang, the dirt falling off of her hoof. “I said it doesn’t seem very sporting, to kill your adversary before she has a chance to retaliate―”
“You think this is some kind of game?” Fang spat out as he scurried away from his clearly mad Queen.
Then wind died down again as Chrysalis took a deep breath. “I don’t think it’s a game.” Chrysalis flitted her wings. “I think we’re in a comic book.”
Fang planted his rump on the ground and pressed his forehooves into his face, biting his lip to prevent the maelstrom that was threatening to escape from his eyes as black insanity looked at him.
Chrysalis giggled. “I prefer the term graphic novel, though.”
That was it. Fang lunged at Chrysalis. She deftly dodged to the side and blasted him in a vital point. He fell off of the cliff. Chrysalis took a breath as a faint splash echoed in the air, then flew away in the direction of base camp.
Author's Note
Those who fail to understand the power of narrative are doomed to fall victim to it.
