Legacy

Chapters

Aftermath
Extinction Event
Broken Pedestals

Aftermath

“Though the prevalence of anecdotal evidence gathered via interviews with the local populace does suggest some kind of upward trend in general magical capability in all three major pony races, whether that magic be expressed internally, as with earth ponies and pegasi, or externally, as with unicorns, all of that evidence remains anecdotal, and thus circumstantial at best. If we can secure the necessary funds, we would like to conduct a large-scale survey of the populace, optimally seeking to find pairs of ponies who demonstrated comparable ability before Tirek’s attack, but afterward…”

Celestia suppressed a sigh as the stallion in the lab coat, a magic researcher by the name of Significant Digit, carried on with his explanation of the project they hoped the Crown would fund. Outwardly she maintained her usual serene smile, designed to assure anypony she dealt with that yes, she was listening, and yes, she really did care, no matter how frustratingly obtuse their point turned out to be. Not that she wasn’t interested, of course. The fact that some ponies actually found their personal magic, whatever form it took, stronger after the defeat of Tirek was a fascinating puzzle, and one she’d quite like to know the answer to.

Unfortunately, she had already reached that decision ten minutes ago, but the researcher always seemed to somehow have yet more to say.

The younger alicorn seated to her left, however, clearly had no such troubles with his verbosity. In fact, her questions were a major factor in just how long this presentation had gone on.

“While I understand that this is a general survey and not a formal test of your theories, I’m curious about the hypothesis you mentioned earlier—I take it you based the ‘more than the sum of the parts’ concept on an expansion of the Houyhnhnm-Schleswig theorem of…”

Unlike her mentor, Twilight was only too happy to spend twenty minutes, at a bare minimum, discussing obscure formulae and theories about the nature of magic with a fellow expert in the field. Oh, certainly, Celestia understood the laws of magic on an intuitive level, and had experience enough to comprehend any text on the matter, given some time to study it. However, she had always found wielding magic beyond that of the average unicorn to be a very personal experience, one best understood through personal growth and revelation.

Describing it in mathematically precise terms was an exercise Celestia left to Twilight, though her sister was just as fond of precision as her former student. Thus far, however, Twilight had unfortunately not had opportunity to approach Luna on the subject, their occasional meetings either occurring during emergencies or as part of a larger social gathering.

Celestia had just begin distracting herself from the unending discussion of arcane theory by pondering ways she might arrange more private interaction between the two, and imagining what might come of it, when motion from the corner of the room caught her eye. There, at a side entrance, her personal cook had apparently just pushed her way into the room, and was waiting impatiently.

Oh, sun above, an excuse at last. Merry, I could kiss you.

Celestia cleared her throat just as Digit began to respond to Twilight’s latest query. Both ponies stopped and turned their attention to her.

“While the discussion has been fascinating, it seems the palace staff has prepared a lunch, and are becoming a bit impatient with us. I’d hate to allow these ponies’ hard work to go to waste by letting it grow cold.” She gave a smile to the cook, then turned back to the petitioner. “Mister Digit, we thank you for your presentation, and the crown sees fit to grant you the funds to pursue further research. All we ask is that you submit the proposition and abstract for your research, in full, for review beforehand — care of Princess Twilight Sparkle.”

The researcher bowed and began thanking her profusely, while one of the Royal Guard’s court attendees collected his tripod and display board, and began gently guiding him towards the door. Celestia breathed a sigh of relief. Mister Digit was excited to pursue his research, Twilight would be excited to read all about his research, and Celestia would be happy to not have to read about any of his research. She would gladly wait for Twilight or Luna to get their hooves on the final results and share a much-abridged version with her.

Her ponies might think of her as scholarly, but that was just because living for centuries gave one quite the knowledge base to draw on. Celestia was much more one for creativity — how ironic that, over time, she’d become known for a school of magic, while her sister had become known as a patron of the arts.

“Court will now hold mid-day recess! The clerk will still call you by number, so feel free to partake of the refreshments provided at the hall entrance. You won’t lose your place.”

The herald calling out the announcement to those petitioners waiting out in the great hall brought Celestia from her musings on history’s treatment of her, and she stood, fighting the urge to stretch until she and Twilight had made their way into the hallway to the dining room. Perhaps if she’d been alone that day, she’d have given in, but she was, in theory, serving as an example for Twilight. If she was going to relax and be casual, it should be in private.

“Thank you again for letting me do this, Pri— I mean, Celestia,” Twilight said as she trotted along behind her mentor. “I know I’m supposed to have a kingdom of my own, but…”

“It’s quite all right, Twilight,” Celestia said, laughter in her voice. “It can be overwhelming at first, I know. I was no better prepared than you when Luna and I accepted the thrones.”

Twilight shook her head. “That I can hardly believe. You, not ready for this?”

“I wasn’t!” Celestia objected. “Until that point, Luna and I were adventuring. Certainly, we took on responsibilities when we found ponies in need, and we fought in defense of others, but is that really so much more than what you had done until you earned your wings?”

“That’s not the same at all.”

“Isn’t it? We fought Tirek, the windigo, and Discord, negotiated peace with the zebras and griffons, and used our powers to help those in need. You faced Nightmare Moon, Discord, and the changelings, negotiated a peaceful solution to conflict with a dragon and the buffalo, and, with your friends, have helped those in need.” Celestia smiled. “You aren’t off to a bad start, Twilight. You’re just comparing your first year to my thousandth.”

Twilight sighed, but smiled back. “I guess you’re right. Still, I appreciate you allowing me to attend Court with you. I still have a lot to get used to, there.”

“And, as Cadance rightly pointed out, it introduces others to the idea that you’re the princess of an allied power, exactly like she is.”

“And that is an idea I’ll never get used to.”

“I know you have no interest in a political divide between our kingdoms, Twilight, but some of the ponies you deal with will put great stock in these sort of political technicalities, such as the fact that you are and I are the rulers of principalities rather than kingdoms, regardless of what terminology has been in common use for centuries.” Celestia paused and looked up at the approach of a Royal Guard. “Yes, corporal?”

The golden-armored unicorn snapped a salute. “I’m sorry to interrupt, your highnesses, but you have a visitor.”

Twilight glanced behind them towards the throne room. “We just came from Court, though.”

“A request for a private audience, Princess,” the guard clarified to Twilight, and then passed a scroll to Celestia in his magic.

Celestia unwound the scroll. “Duchess Silver Reign? How peculiar.”

“Silver Reign?” Twilight asked.

“From Armaneia, a small nation between Equestria proper and Saddle Arabia. Her holdings include a city very important to trade between our nations, and so she’s certainly in a position to demand an audience with me.” Celestia frowned. “Armaneia has never sent a delegation here without contacting us ahead of time, however. I can’t imagine what this could be about.”

“Ah.” Twilight kept a neutral smile on her face, but couldn’t help her ears drooping at the news. “I guess that’s it for today, then?”

Celestia shook her head and smiled at her. “Influential enough for an audience, yes. To demand it be a private one? Not quite. I think this will prove another excellent learning experience for you.” Her smile fell a bit as she glanced down the hall towards the dining room. “Though I may have to impress upon her that we are overdue for another appointment…”

Twilight returned Celestia’s smile, and the two of them allowed the guard to lead them down the halls towards the private meeting chambers. Once there, he opened the doors for the two princesses and stood aside, waiting at the ready and prepared to meet any threat. Celestia thanked him for his service as she and Twilight passed, and the door was quietly shut behind them.

When Celestia’s eyes adjusted from the sunlit halls to the candle-light of the private inner chamber, she found not the opulence typical of the Duchess, but a small group of ponies hidden within travelling cloaks. Immediately, she was on guard, though she kept her face neutral, and only a pony very close to her would have noticed the difference. And indeed, Twilight seemed troubled by the change. A quick hard glance was enough to convince the younger alicorn to remain silent for the moment, however, and then she turned her attention back to their visitors.

The figure beneath the cloak looked enough like the Duchess, and it was certainly not unusual for her to keep a retinue. However, the cloaks themselves were a part of what troubled Celestia — while finely made, they were in an outdated style, and looked worn. Silver was obsessed with being the height of fashion, to the point that she would have a fashion designer and tailor accompany her on her visits, and refuse to be seen in public until she wore something yet unseen in Canterlot. And she would never allow a travelling cloak, no matter how expensive, to conceal her prized jewelry.

And beyond the clothing and accessories themselves, what was lacking was a sense of extravagance. In her own thoughts, Celestia sometimes found herself comparing the Duchess to Rarity—if Rarity were lacking most of her positive qualities, and her flaws exaggerated to make up the difference. It was totally unlike her to appear in a manner so subdued.

The list of creatures who would attempt this sort of deception was a rather short one.

“I had hoped this would be a private affair, Princess,” the Duchess said, with a slight rasp in her voice.

“I do apologize. I might have arranged something ahead of time, had you given me your usual notice. However, I have absolute faith and trust in Twilight. Anything you could tell me, you may tell her.” Celestia paused and fixed her gaze on the most prominent cloaked figure. “How about you, though? You sound a bit unwell.”

“At death’s door, I assure you.” The Duchess chuckled darkly. “Oh well. It’s not like I can keep this up much longer, no matter what the circumstances.” The room was silent as Celestia stared down the group, and Twilight looked back and forth between her mentor and their guests, until finally the Duchess spoke again. “Once all is revealed, do not be too quick to act. This is not an attack, but a plea for sanctuary.”

Celestia narrowed her eyes at those words, but they opened in shock as a wave of green fire rippled across the entire group of cloaked ponies. The hoods of the cloaks fell away from a few of the smaller figures, while what had been presenting itself as the Duchess was now as tall as Celestia — and was the unmistakable shiny black of changeling carapace. That she was speaking to the changeling queen and some of her minions was no great surprise. That they would reveal themselves so openly, however, was.

Before Celestia could react, Twilight was between her and the changelings, her horn already shining with a purple and white glow. Celestia could not see Twilight’s face, but she could see the changeling queen’s reaction to it.

Whatever Chrysalis saw there made her recoil, green light shimmering across her own horn. A quarter-circle of green flame arose between the ponies and the changelings, a faint light in a matching color glowing in the air above it—something Celestia recognized as a rudimentary barrier. For Chrysalis to use such trivial magic against the amount of power Twilight was holding, her machinations would have to be reliant upon risking her life against the young princess…

Or the deathly fear Celestia saw in her eyes was earnest, and she simply lacked the strength to defend herself. She briefly hoped Twilight would reach the same conclusion, but already she could feel the magical attack taking shape.

Celestia gasped. “Twilight, stop!” She lunged forward, light from her horn spreading across the edge of her wing. She stretched that wing towards Twilight, praying she could disrupt the spell her former student had readied. With the strength Twilight had developed, even such a hasty spell could pose dangerous if released into a confined space.

As the magical charge began to form into a blast of magic, Celestia’s feathers brushed Twilight’s mane. Twilight let out a shriek and threw her head back as yellow energy crackled across her back, from the tip of her horn, down her spine to the end of her tail. Celestia winced at the pain she’d caused, but it was a necessary evil to disrupt casting with a pony of Twilight’s capability.

Despite Celestia’s efforts, Twilight released her spell, though misaimed and lacking proper focus. It struck Chrysalis’s barrier with a brilliant multicolored flash and, with the sound of shattering glass, continued on to scorch the wall above the changelings’ heads. Once the blinding light had faded, Chrysalis lay on the ground, apparently unconscious but breathing, with her changeling retinue clustered around her.

As soon as Celestia was certain none of the changelings had been killed or injured by Twilight’s spell, she rounded on the younger alicorn to demand an explanation, then paused when she saw Twilight’s wide, damp eyes.

Celestia let out a deep breath and approached Twilight, kneeling beside her and pulling her close in one wing. “Twilight, be calm. She isn’t a threat like this. See what is before you, not what you fear.”

“But you…” Twilight shook her head, then closed her eyes and pressed herself against Celestia, who continued holding her under one wing.

At that moment, the door burst open and a half-dozen royal guards rushed into the room, placing themselves between Celestia and the changelings, spears leveled at the huddled group.

“Everypony stop,” Celestia commanded. “At ease.”

The guards gave her confused glances over their shoulders, but obeyed, bringing their spears back to a resting position.

Celestia took a calming breath, then nudged Twilight. “Stand with me,” she whispered to her, before rising back to her full height. After a moment, Twilight rose and stood beside her, though her eyes remained downcast, and she didn’t look towards Celestia.

Celestia spared Twilight a concerned look, then turned back to the changelings. “Chrysalis claimed to seek sanctuary,” she proclaimed to all present. “And I am inclined to believe her. Clearly, some great catastrophe has befallen the changeling race, and I cannot imagine that they would have come to us for aid unless their queen saw no other recourse. While they were our enemies in the past, I do not see enemies before me now—I see refugees. Regardless of past conflict, it would betray everything our kingdom has stood for if we were to turn against them now.”

Celestia could feel Twilight’s attention return to her finally as she stepped in front of her guards to stand before the changelings directly.

“This does not mean I will not take prudent action. Changelings, you and your queen will be cared for, insofar as we are capable of doing so. However, you will also remain within the palace, in our custody, until a path forward has been found.” She turned to the guards. “Take them to the Western tower, and avoid the main halls. I would rather this remain contained for now. Be wary, but try to treat them as guests rather than prisoners. Inform Princess Luna, as well.”

Under the watchful eyes of the changelings, two of the guards lifted Chrysalis in their magic, and then a group of them herded the changelings out through the door, leading them through back halls towards the Western end of the palace.

Celestia glanced to the remaining guards. “If you would be so kind as to secure the way to my chambers, I think Twilight and I could do with some solitude. Send word to Prince Blueblood and the chancellor that Court has ended for the day due to a delicate matter of foreign affairs demanding my attention.” She paused, and sighed. “And give my apologies to Merry Hearth, and ask her to bring our lunch to my chambers.”

Author's Note

Merry Hearth has been shamelessly lifted from Rocinante's Tears of a Foal.

Extinction Event

Luna had been watching Twilight from the corner of her eye as they made their way through the halls. The youngest alicorn had said little throughout the trip, when in the past their rare interactions had often found them discussing her friends and their adventures, or other topics that might arise. She could tell that Twilight was in a pensive mood about something, and hints of anxiety shone through her face as clear as the stars. From her sister’s reaction to Twilight’s announcement, Luna knew she hadn’t expected Twilight to make this trip.

“Are you afraid, Twilight Sparkle?” she asked at last.

Twilight froze for just a moment, then shook her head and caught up to Luna. “I… am, I suppose. It doesn’t feel like the right word for it, though.”

“Apprehensive, then,” Luna clarified. “I could tell Celestia did not expect you to join me for this. Why did you, if you are uncomfortable with confronting the changeling queen again?”

“Because I should, I guess,” Twilight said with a sigh. “I know it isn’t the best reason, but Celestia had a point. The right thing isn’t always easy. If I’m going to be part of giving her this second chance, I need to be able to face her. That, and I’d just like to get over my own insecurities about it.”

Luna nodded. “Those are respectable intentions, and I’ll be glad to have you by my side as I speak with her.”

“Well… I don’t know about that.” Twilight slowed half a step and folded her ears back. “I don’t know if I can really deal with being face-to-face with her again, yet. I’ve probably already seen enough for my nightmares to come back as it is.”

It was Luna’s turn to pause, this time. “Nightmares coming back? You mean you had them after her first attack?”

Twilight nodded with a wry smile. “For months. A lot happened.”

Luna took a step back and hung her head. Dereliction of her duties and abandoning a friend in need—yet more fuel for her incessant guilt complex. “I am sorry, Twilight Sparkle.”

“What for?” Twilight asked, tilting her head. “I’m not a filly anymore. Bad dreams are something I should be able to handle on my own.”

Luna shook her head and looked Twilight in the eyes. “I am the guardian of the night, and that does not apply only to children. Yes, they need my help more than others, but that is the nature of being a child. My protection and aid are for everypony, not just foals.” She sighed and lowered her eyes. “It was I who let fear guide my hoof, and you suffered for my lack of action.”

“I sorry, Pri—er, Luna,” Twilight said, stepping forward. “I don’t think I understand.”

“I have never entered the dreams of you or your friends.” Luna brought her gaze back to Twilight. “Not directly, at least. I have guided them on a hooffull of occasions in the process of aiding others, but I have never entered your dreamscapes to observe your dreams, as I do for others.” She turned away again. “I was afraid of what I might find there, considering I was the first great foe you faced.”

“But Luna!” Twilight moved in front of her again and stepped towards her. “We don’t think of you that way, any of us. You’re the first pony we were able to help! You know each of us considers you a friend, right?”

“In my mind? Yes. In my heart, though?” She met Twilight’s eyes. “I have never been a very forgiving pony, particularly not of myself.” She shook her head and stepped past Twilight. “Come. We should not tarry here any longer.”

Luna began to make her way down the hall once more, but when Twilight hesitated to follow, Luna slowed to a stop, and turned her head back, giving Twilight a half-smile. “I do thank you for your words, Twilight Sparkle. I promise I will be there for you should these events cause those nightmares to return.”

“Thank you, Luna,” Twilight said, giving her a more earnest smile in return and beginning to follow her once again. “Though, I really have to ask… How is she being, er, contained?”

“The Western tower,” Luna replied simply. “As is its purpose.” Glancing back and noticing the puzzled expression on Twilight’s face, Luna chuckled and continued. “Ah, I suppose that for all the time you spent in the castle in your youth, Celestia never told you about it.”

Twilight shook her head, so Luna began explaining as they walked.

“The Western tower is where we accommodate potentially hostile, but diplomatically delicate, guests. You have probably heard the guards refer to it as the ‘special guest room’ in the past.” She paused a moment to take in Twilight’s look of recognition. “The walls are warded in three layers: once for reinforcement, once against magic, and once for security. The enchantments are strengthened by embedded focusing crystals, though I cannot imagine how my sister obtained them during the Crystal Empire’s absence. The walls are strong enough survive a dragon attack, and while the limits of the magic ward have never been tested, I believe it would take at least two of the princesses cooperating to break through it.”

The conversation lapsed as the two princesses approached a set of ornate doors. On each side stood two ponies — one pair of royal guards, and one pair of night guards. Luna paused and gave a questioning look to the guardsponies, and Twilight came to a stop just behind her.

The nearest royal guard and nearest night guard saluted and began simultaneously, “Your high—”, before cutting themselves off and glaring at one another.

Stallions. Luna rolled her eyes, then focused on the guards. “Though you address me, my sister’s sun is in the sky, and thus her guard presides.” A tradition which helped nothing when Discord’s vines captured us and left both bodies in the sky. “Speak,” she said, turning to the golden-armored stallion.

The royal guard allowed himself a smirk at his night-time counterpart’s expense, and then brought his expression back to a calm seriousness when he answered Luna. “Your highness, Philomena arrived with orders from Princess Celestia to establish a checkpoint in this manner. According to the princess, a combined force would be an assurance that the ponies watching the tower had not been compromised.” He frowned at the last word.

Luna shook her head and fixed her gaze on the guard. “Do not take offense. Our trust in the royal guard — all of you — is unshaken. However, if the populace were to learn that she is here, suspicion will fall upon all who dealt with her. That it why my sister will not be in contact with her: she was the one who offered the changeling queen refuge. That decision must not seem to have been coerced. Similarly, our ponies cannot think changelings are infiltrating or influencing the royal guard. That both forces are working together here will be seen as a safeguard against that.”

She could read the warring emotions on the guards’ faces as they glanced to one another before focusing back on her. Anger at being seen as suspect by the ponies they were protecting, something she was familiar with, herself. Doubt in the sanctity of their own ranks. Suspicion of the other. The last two, at least, could be dealt with.

She drew herself up to her full height. “Cease those questioning glances. I will task the Night Watch with monitoring for any signs of changeling infiltration. The Royal Guard will remain secure.”

The guards looked even more ill at ease with that news, and one of them cleared his throat. “But, your highness, is that really necessary? We already use the Trueform spell…”

Luna shook her head. “That is merely a modification of a safety spell used to counter transformation magic gone awry. The Watch have much more thorough methods.” She smirked at the shudders that went through the assembled guards as that statement sank in, though she’d need to decide if the Chief Inspector deserved commendation or reprimand for the reputation he’d allowed the Watch to develop. “Nothing harmful, I assure you. Now, we have delayed here long enough. Princess Twilight and I will see the changeling queen, and discover what, precisely, has brought her to us.”

The guards bowed and stepped aside, one at either side lighting his horn and pulling one of the doors open to allow the princess entry. Luna paused in the small antechamber beyond, pondering her next actions as the doors silently swung shut behind them. It would be prudent to suppress the illusion on the far wall and observe the captive Queen before proceeding through the door in front of them, but she was hesitant to do something that could upset Twilight further.

Then again, considering how weak the Changeling Queen seemed to be, going by Celestia’s description, perhaps she was being overly cautious. As well, it would grant her the opportunity to place the matter in Twilight’s hooves.

Luna focused her horn on the wards on the inner wall and sent a small pulse of magic into them, soon feeling echoes of her own aura, as well as her sister’s and Cadance’s, resonate back. She glanced towards Twilight, who was watching her with a curious expression.

“Confirming something,” Luna said as she turned to Twilight. “As you had never seen the tower, I assumed the wards had never been keyed to your magic, and I was correct. Unfortunately, I cannot attune the wards on the door to you without Celestia or Cadance present, but I can allow you to control the enchantments on the wall.”

“Control the enchantments?” Twilight’s look was incredulous. “Isn’t that kind of a big deal?”

Luna laughed. “Oh, no, not the reinforcement and barrier wards. This antechamber is an observation room, and the wall in front of us is illusory. While there is a physical barrier there, it is transparent, and has been carefully engineered to allow sound to pass through. An illusion makes it opaque to both sight and hearing from each side. Once the wards are attuned to you, you must merely reach out with your magic and will it, and you may suppress that illusion for either or both sides.”

“Oh!” Twilight brightened. “So you can watch what somepony’s doing inside, without them knowing you’re there.”

“Precisely,” Luna said with a nod. “While it is not a tactic we would condone for general use, those held here often call for the utmost caution. Now, if you would, draw up your magic, but do not shape it into a spell. It need not be much — what you might use to open a door will suffice.”

Twilight nodded and closed her eyes, and a faint shimmer of magic sparkled over her horn. Luna drew up her own magic and stepped up to Twilight, touching her horn to Twilight’s and drawing Twilight’s energy into her own spell. Twilight cracked open one eye as they touched, but then closed it again with a faint flush across her cheeks.

Luna kept herself from laughing. Such a shy filly, even now. Still, a smirk was on her face as she turned back to the wall and reached out with her magic, feeling for the echo of her own aura once again. Upon finding it, she cast the spell into the wards and felt the magic shift as the echo of Twilight’s aura joined the others.

“It is done,” she said, glancing towards Twilight, who managed to compose herself before opening her eyes. “You may now watch and listen through this wall, if you wish. For now, I will leave them be, and allow you the decision of whether to see or not.”

Twilight nodded again. “Thank you, Luna. But… is it safe to go in without knowing what she’s doing in there?”

“No, not truly. It is possible that this is part of some grand scheme, but Celestia does not believe that to be the case. And even if she were plotting against us, her current condition would make any attack on me foolhardy, at best.” She gave Twilight a momentary smile. “I am sure I will be fine. Of course, should you find any cause for concern, you need merely lift the spell to confirm the danger, and then alert the Royal Guard and Celestia.”

“I guess you’re right.” She returned Luna’s smile, though the worry in her eyes made it clear hers was forced. “Be safe, Luna.”

“I shall, Twilight Sparkle.” With that, she reached out to the wards on the door, and stepped through as her magic pushed it open, allowing it to quickly close behind her.

Depending on what one was looking for, the tower chambers presented one of two faces to its visitors.

Those who were trusting or unsuspicious saw a display of understanded grandeur; with high, arched ceilings and sparse decoration providing a sense of openness, while those amenities that were present would satisfy a guest of even the highest standing.

Those who understood the room’s purpose, though, saw clear sightlines from the observation area in the foyer, no places for inhabitants to hide, and a clear reminder that a cage with gilded bars was still yet a cage.

The current occupant of that cage sat in the far corner near the bed, the area around her tinted green by the light of her magic.

“Princess Luna, what an unexpected pleasure,” Chrysalis said without looking back at her. “It’s been far too long.”

“Too long?” Luna called back, calling up power of her own as she did — not so much that her horn was lit, but enough to defend herself if need be. “We have never met. I was out of the city when you launched your attack.”

“Oh, it was long before that.” The changeling queen chuckled, though the sound was mirthless. “I’m not surprised you don’t remember. Not only did I look rather different, but your attention was always… elsewhere.”

Luna approached slowly, in part due to caution, though the Queen did not seem to be paying her much attention, and in part because this was the first time she had ever seen the creature. Studying her as she approached, Luna could not help but admit there was something oddly elegant about her form and appearance, black carapace and all. Monstrous and dangerous, perhaps, but graceful all the same.

It was not long that Chrysalis’s form held her attention, however, before her actions took precedence.

“Chrysalis!” Luna stepped back in a defensive stance and allowed her magic to fill her horn. “What is happening here?”

The Queen spared her the briefest backward glance and sighed before turning her full attention back to the changeling soldier she had been wrapping in lines of green energy. “I am cocooning them. They are weak, and will not live much longer without it.”

The light faded from Luna’s horn as she relaxed into a more neutral stance.

“Cocooning them?” she asked.

Chrysalis nodded, and another layer of green wrappings formed around her target, the lower ones darkening into something resembling changeling carapace. “These shells will protect and preserve them, and they will hibernate within, greatly extending the time they can survive without love.” With a faint burst of magic, the shell closed and began darkening on its own, on its way to joining the three others beside it. “I’ve done this many, many times of late.”

Luna stared for a moment, then sat and silently watched Chrysalis work as she moved on to the next sleeping changeling. However, after that one was completed, she couldn’t help but notice that Chrysalis had apparently skipped over one, a drone that didn’t seem to be in the same peaceful rest as the others.

“And what of that one?” Luna asked as Chrysalis began work on the final drone aside from the neglected one.

“She is too weak to survive the process,” Chrysalis explained dispassionately. “At one point, I might have just torn the last of her energy out for myself. Pragmatic, perhaps, but it felt inappropriate, given the circumstances. Instead, I am slowly siphoning it away, and using the last of her energy to save her sisters.”

Luna narrowed her eyes. “That is barbaric. It… she still lives, does she not?”

Chrysalis gave a joyless laugh and turned her head to face Luna. “Barbaric? She desperately needs a large feeding to survive to the end of the day. Who would provide it?” She shook her head and closed the final shell before standing and approaching Luna, sitting in front of the moon princess. “She will know she gave her life for her hive.”

Luna met Chrysalis’s eyes, but her own kept being drawn over the Queen’s shoulder, towards the lone drone still lying on the floor. Still she tried to focus on the creature in front of her. “What happened?”

“Tirek,” Chrysalis said.

“Tirek?” Luna frowned. “Why would he wish to inflict greater suffering on the changelings than he did anypony else?”

“I doubt he intended to do any such thing,” Chrysalis said, shaking her head. “In fact, I doubt he even realized we were any different from the other creatures of Equestria. But we are different. Ponies might believe they can’t live without magic, but it isn’t truly vital for you. You may be weak, you may find yourselves unable to fly or to touch the clouds, and you may find these”—Luna started as Chrysalis tapped her horn with her own—“become nothing but decoration. But you survive.”

Chrysalis rose and stepped over to the dying changeling, looking down at it. “Love, the soul, and magic are deeply intertwined. In some ways, they are three facets of the same thing. Tirek took power from you, but in taking our magic he took our very life force. We were crippled, and in many cases, dying. Worse yet, upon his defeat, very little of that magic came back to us. What did was only barely enough to stave off our total destruction.”

The drone shuddered, and pulled her limbs tighter against her body. Luna couldn’t help but compare it to a foal feeling a chill. Chrysalis let one hoof rest against it for a moment before lying down beside it.

“She has entered the final stage. It will be over, soon.”

Luna stared at the Changeling Queen for a moment, then turned away. “What should we do?”

“There’s nothing to be done,” Chrysalis said. After a moment, she continued, a hint of bitterness in her voice, “Though I suppose some pony researchers would love a specimen to dissect. Perhaps a training dummy for the royal guard?”

Luna’s gaze snapped back to her, and she rose to a stand. “We would never—!” She took a deep breath and let her anger go. Now was not the time, not with the scene playing out before her. “I will ensure that the changeling is given proper treatment. I promise you this.”

Chrysalis glanced her way, then turned back to the drone. “Thank you.”

It struck Luna as strangely sincere. She turned to leave the chamber and summon some of her guards to collect the dying changeling, but paused and turned back towards Chrysalis once more.

“Chrysalis?” she asked. “How bad is it, truly, for your kind?”

There was a brief silence before the Changeling Queen reacted.

“I invaded you with an army of thousands,” Chrysalis said at last, not looking up. “I now rule an empire of dozens.”

Broken Pedestals

It seemed like hours ago that she had been happily chatting with Celestia as they left the court for lunch, but Twilight knew only a fraction of that time had actually passed. It was just that so much had happened in such a short span of time—and the fact that this walk, unlike their earlier one, was totally silent beyond the sound of hooves striking the marble floor.

Twilight might have tried to speak with Celestia along the way, if not for the flood of memories and emotions filling her thoughts, nearly all focused on the last time Twilight had faced Chrysalis. The attack itself had been terrible, yes. The fact that Chrysalis had targeted her family was worse. But the worst of all…

“I can imagine how painful it must have been to hear me say those words, Twilight, particularly in front of your friends. I am truly sorry for that. You have such faith and trust in me, and I should have shown you the same.”

“No, no, I… You don’t have to apologize to me, Princess. You just did what you thought was best.”

“I’m very familiar with the folly of ignoring those close to me because I overestimate my own wisdom.”

“It’s okay, Princess. It wasn’t like that. I wasn’t being rational with my brother involved, and, after all, extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence.”

She had insisted to Celestia that she was fine. That Celestia had been right to doubt her. That she had accepted Celestia’s disapproval.

You have a lot to think about.

They had been the seven most terrible words she’d ever heard. Though Celestia had been wrong—it wasn’t painful to hear those words in front of her friends, necessarily. The painful part was hearing them from Celestia. All Twilight had wanted, then, was to know that all was well between them.

So she assured Celestia that she was fine, they’d hugged, and Twilight had gone back to her parents’ home for the night, where she quietly cried herself to sleep on her old bed. While she’d always had a deep-seated fear of disappointing her mentor, actually having it happen wasn’t something she could let go so easily. It kept gnawing at her, not only just as an old fear renewed, but making its way into her dreams as well.

It had faded in time, of course, and the rest of her friends’ apologies soon joining Applejack’s and Celestia’s was a help. But the nightmares of rejection lasted all the way to her journey to the Crystal Empire.

You won't continue your studies at all!

Strangely, facing Sombra’s illusion of her greatest fear made that fear so much easier to cope with in her daily life. By the time she’d gained her wings and princess status, she felt she’d finally put it behind her.

Until today.

Twilight started as the doors to Celestia’s chambers closed behind her. She’d been so occupied with her thoughts that she hadn’t even noticed their arrival.

This was it.

She swallowed, and finally looked up to Celestia, expecting to once again hear those words of disappointment and rejection, though with no apology—or interruption from Spike—to come afterward, this time. Instead, Celestia wasn’t even looking at her. The elder princess seemed occupied with her own thoughts, remaining silent as she removed her regalia and returned them to their stand by her bed in the golden shimmer of her magic.

“If you wouldn’t mind, Twilight, yours as well.”

Twilight froze at Celestia’s words. Was she going to tell Twilight she wasn’t worthy of her title? That she shouldn’t be wearing her crown? After all, she’d just launched an unprovoked attack on another head of state, even if it had, until that point, been an enemy state.

Celestia caught her expression and gave Twilight a soft smile. “I’m not angry with you, Twilight.” Her face fell slightly. “I’m just concerned. I want to dismiss with regalia, roles, and titles, and address one another on a much simpler level—as friends.” She gestured towards some cushions by a large window. “Not as ruler and subject, or mentor and student, or even as my fellow princess. Something seems very wrong with my friend, and I’m concerned for her well-being.”

Twilight felt a slight flush color her face as she took a step back. “Pri- Celestia, it’s-”

Celestia shook her head, and fixed her with a very solemn gaze. “Please, Twilight. It’s not lost on me that the last time we spoke like this was after the first time Chrysalis attacked us. Back then, you assured me everything was fine, and I let you leave it at that, despite my misgivings. I told you then that the consequences of ignoring the troubles of my loved ones was a lesson hard-learned for me. The last thing I want is for you to drift away.”

“But that’s…” Twilight hung her head again. “That’s exactly what I’m afraid of.”

Though Celestia gave her another gentle smile, Twilight couldn’t entirely read the emotion there, her thoughts ranging anywhere from “sad” to “comforting”. She glanced away, her gaze landing on the door. She could… Celestia wouldn’t force her to stay, and it wasn’t like she wanted to be involved in this whole Chrysalis business to begin with, but… If she didn’t say anything…

Twilight turned her eyes back to Celestia’s expression for a moment before sighing and hanging her head again. She began removing her own accoutrements as she followed Celestia to the window seats.

Approaching in silence, she wordlessly sat down on the cushion next to Celestia’s, looking out over the city. The two of them sat that way for a time, only interrupted by the door opening when Merry arrived with their now quite-overdue lunch. Twilight glanced her way as she came in, and saw the cook’s cross expression soften at the scene before her. She laid their food on a table nearby, and Celestia mouthed a silent ‘thank you’ to her, to which Merry gave a quick nod and left the two princesses alone once again.

Twilight, at last, took a deep breath, and let it out again. “It was the only time you rejected me,” she said, not looking up to Celestia.

Twilight waited a moment, but Celestia seemed content with allowing her to speak.

“I’d made mistakes in the past… You’d scolded me before. But it was always to teach the lesson, and you’d be smiling at me again before it was through.” Twilight sank down to lie against the cushion. “I know we spoke afterward, and I admitted you were right not to believe me. You were right not to believe me. I hardly made a good case for myself. But… Even with all we said, you’d never sounded so angry with me. You’d never sounded disgusted with me. I was sure I’d just ruined everything I had with you, my brother, and Cadance, all at once. Even my friends…”

Twilight sniffed, pausing a moment before continuing. “Of course, then she came back and attacked me, letting me know I was right, and captured me in the same place she’d caught Cadance, allowing me to expose her deception. I was sure things would be coming to a head once you stood up to face her. But then… you lost. Hearing you say that being ageless doesn’t make you invincible, being powerful doesn’t make you a goddess, being wise doesn’t make you infallible… it didn’t really prepare me to see it actually proven. I never imagined you’d actually fall to anypony. Even if Shining and Cadance did manage to win the day after that… ever since, everything has just felt so fragile.”

“Fragile?” Celestia asked, the first sound from her in some time.

Twilight didn’t look her way, but nodded. “My friends could turn on me. My family could be taken from me. You could abandon me. You could…” Twilight paused. “I couldn’t let her do it again. That’s what I was thinking. That’s all I was thinking. That she was back, and she’d come for you. She expected to see you alone, she’d have had you outnumbered. I couldn’t see her hurt you again.” Twilight curled up facing away from Celestia. “But then you took her side. You… you hurt me to help her.”

“Oh, Twilight…” Celestia stood a moment, before moving to lay beside Twilight and putting a wing around her. “I am sorry. I am truly sorry. I would never wish to cause you harm, and I know that talk of ‘lesser evils’ is seldom a comfort, but I saw no other way to stop you from taking an action you might regret.”

Twilight didn’t try to escape from under the wing, but did curl tighter. “Are you sure I’d regret killing her? She’s a monster.”

“Perhaps,” Celestia said. “But so was Discord, and I think you count him among your friends now. So was my sister, in her transformed state. I taught you there is hope for anypony, and I still believe it. I think you do, too, when you aren’t overcome by your fears.” She wrapped her wing tighter around Twilight, who relaxed slightly. “And I wouldn’t have done anything that hurt you, were there any other way.”

Twilight glanced up at her. “What do you mean?”

“Twilight, I can’t simply overpower your magic anymore. Even a counterspell would have been a contest of wills, and in the state you were in, there was no guarantee I’d have won.” Celestia gave her a soft smile. “I’m not so far beyond your strength anymore. The only way I could stop you in time was a nerve disruption spell. And even with that, you still cast your spell. All I did was ensure you missed.”

“I’m as strong as…?” Twilight stared at her.

“You truly have come such a long, long way.” Celestia’s smile was much brighter this time as she hugged Twilight with her wing. “And though you have further still to go, I promise I will do all in my power to remain with you for as much of your journey as I am able. I can’t imagine turning away from you as you feared, Twilight. And though we may disagree, it’s no longer a matter of a teacher scolding a student. We can discuss these things as equals and friends.” Celestia glanced towards the nearby table. “Over a quickly-cooling lunch, if I may be so bold as to suggest a blatant distraction.”

Twilight giggled, though a sob threatened to break through during it. She wasn’t certain she quite had a grasp on all the emotions rolling over her at the moment, but she had to admit, finally sitting down for their lunch sounded preferable to continuing to dampen Celestia’s coat with her tears, whether they were happy ones or sad.

Nodding, Twilight slipped out from under Celestia’s wing. “Thank you, Pri— Celestia.”

Celestia lead the two of them over to the table where Merry had left their lunch, where they sat across from one another and began their meal in a more comfortable silence than what had been between them since the revelation that Chrysalis was in the castle.

Finally, Celestia broke the silence. “So, Twilight, now that you’ve calmed down, and now that you are no longer in her presence, I’m curious about your thoughts on our situation.”

Twilight placed her spoon back onto the dish and sighed, turning her gaze towards the window.

“I don’t like it,” she said at last. “And… honestly, I’d rather see you banish her from Equestria than accept her claims of wanting sanctuary.”

Celestia nodded. “I expected as much, and though I won’t try to tell you that you’re wrong for your thoughts, I must ask if this is inspired by your own fears, or if you feel you see something I do not?”

“I think… I suppose my history with her has just left me less forgiving of her. But more than that, she abuses trust, she manipulates ponies, she uses others, and I have to think that these things are just part of her nature, and she will never stop doing them.”

“Her past deeds certainly do not suggest she is a being who we can readily trust. I ask, however, if that precludes our aiding her, and if she truly is incapable of change.” Celestia glanced towards her as Twilight opened her mouth to object, but Twilight took a steadying breath and simply nodded, turning back to the window. Celestia smiled faintly and continued. “I won’t ask you to be part of aiding her if you do not wish to be, Twilight. I understand how difficult such a thing would be for you, and I have no desire to force you into such a position. However, I hold to what I told the guardsponies earlier: It would be a violation of all we have stood for to reject her, should her plea be sincere. And the only right path I can see is to assume that it is.”

Twilight frowned. “Celestia… Is that wise? You could be opening yourself up to betrayal, just like with Discord.”

“I never said I wouldn’t take precautions, Twilight.” Her smile grew, slightly. “And after all, those events were proof that Discord was influenced by the trust and friendship you six showed him. The Lord Discord I knew one thousand years ago would never have given Tirek such free reign. Tirek, like anyone, would have been another plaything, and Discord would have betrayed him in turn. It was Discord learning to trust that allowed Tirek to do so much harm—and your forgiveness of and continued faith in him that brought about Tirek’s defeat. Doing what is right seldom goes hoof-in-hoof with doing what is easy, but I find the outcome usually speaks for itself.”

Twilight let her attention drift back to the window while her thoughts wandered to those events, and other challenges that had faced her in the past.

Was Celestia right?

The corner of her mouth twitched up at how ridiculous it was for her to have such a thought. Was Twilight Sparkle honestly questioning her mentor? She could just imagine her friends’ reactions. Of course, it wouldn’t be the first time — her adventures began with Twilight rejecting Celestia’s apparent lack of concern with the Nightmare Moon prophecy, after all.

But still, was it acceptable to risk so much in the attempt at bringing about harmony?

Everything she could think screamed that no, that was absurd. But it had worked out for the best in the past. And how much of her objection was rooted merely in her personal hatred of Chrysalis?

Twilight sighed and shook her head. “I’ll help, if I can. I don’t think I can bring myself to actually face her right now, but… just because she’s caused me, personally, more suffering than other things I’ve faced, it doesn’t mean she’s less deserving of the chance.”

Despite her words, Twilight ended that statement with a grimace.

Celestia let out a breath. “Thank you, Twilight. While I did not wish to force your hoof on the matter, I’m certain your help will prove most valuable. And perhaps you will overcome your own fears, as well.” She put a wing around Twilight in an encouraging hug, but sighed at the same time. “For my part, I imagine my greatest difficulty will be keeping this contained. The castle’s rumor mill can be startlingly effective.”

“Sister!” Luna’s voice called out, as the two princesses turned to face the swirl of blue magic that appeared behind them and quickly coalesced into her form. “I have heard that changelings infiltrated the palace! Are you both unharmed?”

Celesta caught Twilight’s eye and whispered “told you” before standing to face her sister, who rushed over to inspect her.

“I am fine, Luna. The matter wasn’t quite as dangerous as you may have heard.”

Celestia gave her sister’s mane a quick nuzzle and guided her over to join them, recounting the events of the day thus far. Twilight flushed slightly as she listened to Celestia downplay her outburst, though apparently neither of the older alicorns caught her expression in that moment.

Luna frowned as Celestia concluded her account. “I am surprised at how weak the changeling queen seems to have become, particularly considering that she defeated you in your last encounter, sister.”

“Yes, well.” Celestia straightened slightly and looked aside. “I did attempt a non-lethal spell, after all…”

“You would.” Luna smirked, then returned to her more somber expression. “Though it behooves us to discover what brought this change about. If it was the work of an outside threat, it could well pose a risk to our own kingdom.”

“I was actually hoping you would help with that,” Celestia said. “Somepony will need to be the primary contact with her, and it would be best for one of us to play that role. I hesitate to do it myself, because I was the one to accept her request for sanctuary. If the situation becomes public knowledge, I need to be seen as a neutral figure. Too much contact with her would raise suspicion that she is influencing me in some way.”

Luna touched her hoof to her chin, seeming to consider the argument. “You make a good point. As well, I am curious about the creatures, as I was absent during their previous attack.” She stood. “Then, if you are well, I believe I should see to our guest as soon as possible. The Western tower, I presume?”

Celestia nodded. “Yes. In the meantime, Twilight and I—”

“Actually,” Twilight interrupted, flinching slightly when both of the other princesses turned towards her. “I mean, excuse me, Celestia, but I think I want to go with Luna.”