Chrysalis & Mirage

by Zobeid

Rating: everyone
Tags: Other, Queen Chrysalis, Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 10115

Deposed and defeated, Chrysalis flees across the desert, only to encounter. . . a kindred spirit, of a sort?

Deposed and defeated, Queen Chrysalis flees from her hive and across the desert. Lost and exhausted, it seems her luck has run out, until she's found by the mysterious sorceress who calls herself Mirage.

Are these two fated to become master and minion?
Rivals? Allies? Enemies?
Or perhaps even. . . friends?

Published 2016-12-09 22:20:01 UTC
Last updated 2017-04-07 16:14:12 UTC

Alone in the Desert

Queen Chrysalis flew across the desert. No guards or attendants flew with her. She couldn’t sleep, couldn’t rest, couldn’t stop fleeing — although pursued (as far as she knew) only by her own anger and despair. In the wee, dark hours of the morning, the cold night air and exhaustion forced her to the ground.

She collapsed in a heap, her body resting on bare dirt and pebbles, while dark shapes of desert scrub bushes limited her vision on all sides, formless silhouettes against the starry sky. Her wing muscles burned, her heart pounded, and she panted and heaved. Her mouth and throat were dry. After long minutes had passed, and the pains of her exertion had faded somewhat, she clambered to her feet and walked onward, sullenly. She still hadn’t left the Hive far enough behind her. After what had happened, she wasn’t sure she ever could.

She’d heard that the desert became cold at night, but this was the first time she’d ever experienced the chill herself. She shivered but kept on walking. There was just enough starlight to see where she was stepping.

Her belly grumbled. Her legs itched and burned, as they often did. A glow of dawn appeared near the horizon, but Chrysalis was not cheered by the prospect. Celestia’s sigil of power might warm her body, but it gave her soul no comfort.

As dawn neared, a chorus of yips and howls sounded somewhere in the distance. Chrysalis stopped in her tracks and cocked her ears. She’d never heard coyotes before. Their calls sounded to her like maniacal laughter. She crouched down, shivering. Back in the Hive she’d had comfort, safety, guards, servants. She’d never been cold and alone while unknown creatures cackled at her in the dark.

After a few minutes the animal noises died down. After a few more, Chrysalis rose to her feet again, and she snorted. Speaking to an audience of only herself, she said, “I am one of the most powerful beings in the world. I won’t cower like a nymph!” She snarled and charged up a spell from her gnarled horn. A bolt of green fire lashed out against a random bush, incinerating it almost instantly.

Chrysalis shrieked and collapsed onto her knees. The pain in her forehead was almost blinding for a few seconds, and she couldn’t breathe. It felt like she’d broken something. As the pain subsided to barely-tolerable levels, she gasped and retched, trying in vain to cough up something from her empty stomach. The power… Her magic power felt enormous, perhaps greater than ever before in her life, perhaps even greater than when she’d overpowered Celestia. Why did it hurt so much to use it?

She dragged herself to her feet again and stumbled onward. Soon birds were calling out a dawn chorus as sunlight spilled over the horizon, and an enchanting odor hung in the morning air. With a bit of sniffing around, she discovered the wonderful scent came from the greasewood bushes. She took an experimental nibble of their tough, tiny leaves. Needle-sharp thorns pricked at her lips, despite her best efforts to work around them. It was just as well, for the leaves proved to be tough and bitter, and she had to spit them out.

Tired. Sick. Cold. Hurting. Hungry. She wanted to stop, but there was no shelter here and no water. The idea was just beginning to sink in that it had been unwise to flee alone into the desert with no supplies, no map, no plan. As Queen she’d never had to think about things like that. That was what her subjects were for. Now a lump of fear formed in her otherwise very empty belly.

With nothing but the sun to guide her, she walked in what she imagined to be a straight line. This wasn’t like the Badlands, which she’d already left far behind. This was a living desert with plants and animals. There had to be water somewhere. Right? As she walked, the day warmed rapidly, and her thirst grew, and her legs burned. She longed to soak them in a cold pool.

Tromping along in sullen funk, she was startled by a sudden noise almost at her feet. She reared and tried to scoot back from the rattlesnake. She cast a spell reflexively, without thinking, and blasted the snake — and then was herself floored with pain and nausea. For some moments she almost wished she’d let the snake bite her instead. After she recovered and got to her feet again, hunger and a lingering scent of burnt meat compelled her to lower her muzzle and sniff at the remains of the snake, but her excessive blast of magic had reduced it to only bones and char. She grumbled and trudged onward.

Hours passed, and the heat continued to rise, the sun’s rays baked her back and neck, her thirst grew, and she began to stagger. Still she kept putting one hoof in front of another, stumbling over rocky hills and gullies, and occasionally blundering into cactus that made her legs hurt even worse than before. Not risking her magic again, she tried using her lips and teeth to pluck spines out of her legs, but then got some of the hairy little spines lodged in her mouth as well.

Several times she stopped, telling herself she couldn’t go any further. Several times she got back up and walked onward, telling herself she couldn’t lay down and die. She was feeling dizzy and barely staying on her feet when she came to the top of one more ridge. She stopped. She blinked. Her parched mouth hung partially open as she peered toward the horizon at a shimmering sliver of blue. “Water,” she muttered. She summoned her best effort and broke into a trot, although with some stumbling and tripping. The water was distant, but it was in sight. She could reach it.

On and on she pressed, but the water taunted her and seemed to evaporate the closer she drew. Finally she found herself standing, befuddled, in the middle of a barren and bone-dry lake bed. The world tilted, and she collapsed onto her side and closed her eyes.

Author's Note

I thought of putting an adventure tag on this, but it's not really what most would expect of an adventure. I thought of putting a crossover tag on it, but one very obscure Disney character isn't what most would expect of a crossover. So. . . Slice of life it is!

Mirage

Consciousness filtered back to Chrysalis slowly, bringing confusion. What happened? Where was she? She shifted and winced, muscles sore. She was laying on some kind of bed or cot, but not her royal bed in the Hive. Beneath her was some sort of rough straw or wicker. Her legs dangled off the edge. Damp towels draped across her body, cooling her.

She opened her eyes and blinked, then blinked again. There was light, but her vision was badly blurred. She could make out the interior of a building, somewhat like those of pony homes, with square walls, square floors, square windows, square doors, so unlike the organic shapes of her Hive. Light filtered indirectly through doors and shaded windows. It must be very bright outside.

Had she been captured? Was she a prisoner? Where were her jailers? She shook her head. She was unrestrained, except by her own feeble condition. It didn’t make sense.

She started to get up, but her muscles screamed once again, and she felt a wave of dizziness, and she sank back onto the cot. She decided not to try that again. Someone had saved her, and she didn’t know who or why, but it would have to be enough — for now.

She lay there, not sleeping but hardly fully awake, her mind wandering through the recent past, trying to make sense of all that had happened in the last few days and her abrupt fall from power. Thus absorbed, she almost didn’t notice when a shadow passed across the doorway, and a cloaked figure entered the room. It spoke with an unfamiliar, feminine voice, “Feeling better? Are you ready for some more water?”

Chrysalis blinked again, trying to clear the bleariness from her eyes. “Who are you?” she managed to utter.

“You asked that before. You’ve been drifting in and out of consciousness. That happens with heat stroke. Do you feel strong enough to sit up?”

Chrysalis responded by rolling over with a groan. Soft paws moved to help lift and support her until she was upright with her barrel resting on the cot and her front legs hanging off the front.

“Here…” The stranger lifted a yellow gourd up to the changeling’s mouth. Chrysalis sniffed at the water, then drank greedily. After a few moments the stranger pulled the gourd away. “Not too much at once, or you’ll make yourself sick again,” she admonished. Then she rearranged the towels over Chrysalis’s back and poured more water onto them, to keep them damp and cool.

Chrysalis squinted blearily at her benefactor, and suspicion dripped in her tone as she asked, “Why are you helping me?”

The stranger snorted softly and replied, “I’ve been wondering that, myself. Something we can speak of later, when I decide you’re not about to faint again.” She took a wicker basket from the table and held it in front of the changeling, who sniffed curiously. “They’re dates.” Chrysalis plucked one from the basket with her lips (which she noticed were now blessedly free of cactus spines) and chewed. It was sweet. She craned her neck to pick another.

After eating her fill, she slept. When the stranger came again, the day’s light was fading, although the air remained hot. Chrysalis’s eyesight, however, was much improved, and she got a clearer look at her host. She jerked back, startled, as she thought for an instant that she was looking at herself. Then she realized the resemblance was only very superficial. This being in front of her sported fur in a similar shade of charcoal gray, though perhaps not quite as dark. The tips of her fangs were visible, though not protruding as much as Chrysalis’s own. Her eyes were a striking, luminous green with vertically slit pupils. Yet, they were set in a face that could only be described as feline. As she had already observed, this creature stood upright on its hind feet and used its dextrous forepaws only to carry and manipulate things. The details of the rest of its body were somewhat obscured by humble brown garments.

Chrysalis had never seen anything quite like it, though it brought to mind the gnolls, or “Rock Hounds” as they call themselves, who sometimes were captured by her changelings when they wandered into the Badlands seeking minerals and gems. Gnolls were canids, like bipedal dogs who wore rude clothing and armor. This creature, then, appeared to be their feline counterpart.

The feline endured Chrysalis’s silent scrutiny for several long moments, then quipped, “What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?”

“What?” Befuddled, Chrysalis actually extended her long, forked tongue and waggled it in front of her eyes, making sure it was OK.

The feline smirked and explained, “Relax, it’s merely a play on words. Your tongue is safe around me.”

Chrysalis put her tongue back in her mouth and scowled. “Mind your own tongue! I am Chrysalis, Queen of the Changelings. You would do well to show respect.”

The feline narrowed her eyes and muttered, “You’re welcome.”

Undeterred, Chrysalis demanded, “Who are you? I asked before, and my patience has limits.”

The feline busied herself collecting the crumpled and dried-out towels from the day before, while she said, “I told you before, but your sun-addled brain was unable to retain the knowledge.” She stuffed the towels in a basket and then looked to the changeling. “I’ve gone by many names in my time, but you may refer to me as Mirage.”

“I have never seen nor heard tell of a creature such as yourself.”

Mirage clasped her hands together and grinned, showing her fangs. “Then we’re even!”

To Chrysalis her tone sounded mocking, and it was the last straw. “I don’t have to tolerate your impudence!” Emerald green magic flared from her horn, but only for an instant before she shrieked in pain and crumpled, helplessly clutching at her horn and forehead.

Mirage shook her head and tsk-tsked.

Chrysalis whimpered. “Why? Why does it hurt so bad?”

Mirage sat on the cot beside her and reached to place a soft handpaw on Chrysalis’s neck. “If I were to speculate… I would suspect a severe imbalance between your khat and your akh, which is to say, between your metabolic and metaphysical aspects.”

Chrysalis growled, “Talk sense, or I’ll blast you no matter how much it hurts!”

Mirage rolled her eyes and restated, “I mean, your magic is too strong, and your body is too weak to sustain it. You’ll kill yourself if you keep trying to cast spells like this.” She idly rubbed the changeling’s neck. “You should regain the ability as you recover from your ordeal and your health improves.”

Chrysalis lowered her muzzle between her forelegs and grumbled.

Mirage leaned closer to Chrysalis’s ear and whispered, “Until then you’ll just have to put up with my sass. You’re a tough cookie. I’m sure you can take it.” She got up and set a water gourd and a basket of food beside the bed. “Eat. Drink. Rest. You’ll soon feel better, Your Most Royal Majesty.”

She turned to leave, but Chrysalis called after her, “Wait! Why are you helping me?”

Mirage paused in the doorway to reply. “Oh. I’m sure curiosity was part of the reason,” she answered indifferently. She flexed and extended the claws on her right hand, and examined them. “Curiosity has long been a weakness of mine. It’s a cat thing, you know. I suppose I could have simply laughed and given you a sharp kick in the ribs and then skipped along on my merry way. However… Tell me, Queen Chrysalis, how do you feel about destiny?”

It took Chrysalis a moment to respond, so unexpected was the question. “Err… I have never given it much thought.”

Mirage shrugged. “I’m no fan of destiny, myself. He cheats at cards, you know. Even so… What were the odds that I’d stumble across you at just the right time and place to save you? One might imagine there was some purpose in it. And so, we’ll find out.”

Author's Note

I've long mused over whether these two characters are related in some way. So... Why not have them meet?

If it goes well, I may do Discord and Lord Chaos next. :rainbowlaugh:

Wolf Worms

“Servant! Servant! Come here, I need water!”

A very irritated looking feline entered the room. “My name is Mirage, not Servant. And I already brought you water. Wait… Why is the floor wet?”

Chrysalis whinged, “My legs itched, so I poured water over them. Now I require more.”

Mirage frowned and peered at Chrysalis’s forelegs, where they dangled over the edge of her cot. The thin fur was still damp and matted, the skin dotted with large knots or swellings, each with a wet hole in the center and some of them seeping a milky fluid. She pointed and asked, “Has your royal physician looked at those?”

“My what?”

“Your doctor. Have you seen a doctor about your legs?”

Chrysalis snorted dismissively. “Changelings do not have doctors. We do not believe in coddling the weak. And besides, all my changelings have these holes in their legs.”

Mirage sighed. Then she offered, “May I examine your legs more closely?”

Chrysalis narrowed her eyes suspiciously, but then extended a front foot. “You may.”

Mirage dabbed at a few of the holes with a soft cloth, peering into them and tugging at the edges with her needle-sharp claws. A pinprick caused Chrysalis to jerk her leg back and growl. Mirage let go and shook her head, and she said, “I believe I know the cause of this condition, and I can treat it. I can end your discomfort — but the treatment itself may hurt a bit.”

Chrysalis pulled her legs closer. “You will not torment my royal person!”

Mirage rolled her eyes. “It’s up to you. A little discomfort now, and blessed comfort later is what I can offer. Also, I’m not giving you more water to just pour out on the floor.”

Chrysalis scowled at her, then looked at her forelegs. She was quiet for several moments, and then said, “Very well. I shall give you a chance. But if you betray my trust, you’ll know far greater pain.”

“If you say so. I need to collect some things; I’ll be back in a moment.”

When Mirage returned, she arranged the cot and table so that Chrysalis’s foreleg was supported and easily accessible. Then she opened a jar and began dabbing a pasty substance onto each of the leg holes. As she worked she explained, “Normally I would put some salve on your legs to dull the sensations, but I have nothing suitable here. Also, I’m forbidden from using magic for healing.”

Chrysalis wondered, “Forbidden? Why?”

“Because reasons. Don’t ask me about my past unless you want me to ask about yours.” She finished wiping the remaining grease from her hands. “Now a short wait. Don’t move about, and I’ll return in a few minutes.”

It was roughly ten minutes later when Mirage returned and looked at the leg. She nodded and said, “That’s working. Now hold still. What I’m about to do may feel unpleasant.” She chose a hole and began worrying at it with the sharp tips of her extended claws, stretching and enlarging the opening, then reached in deeper to fish around in it. Chrysalis cringed, first looking away, then trying to see what Mirage was doing — but her hands were in the way.

After several long seconds of this, Mirage exclaimed softly, “Aha!”

Chrysalis sucked in her breath, then yammered, “eeeuh… No! Stop it, stop it! I command you to stop!”

She flinched and whined, trying to pull back her leg, but Mirage held a firm grip with her other hand. “Be still!” she growled. A few seconds later she released the leg and huffed. “Done.”

“What did you do to me, witch?” Chrysalis demanded.

Mirage replied by holding up a dark object in front of Chrysalis’s muzzle. The shapeless mass wriggled and pulsated sickeningly in the grip of her claws. Chrysalis stared, wide-eyed, and flinched back. “What… What is that thing!?”

“This is what’s been eating you,” Mirage answered.

Chrysalis breathed heavily as she stared at the squirming horror, then she rasped, “Get them out of me! Get them out! All of them!”

Mirage dropped the fat worm into a bowl. “They have to be removed one by one. It’ll take a while.” She went back to work, and started picking at the next hole with her claw tips. She commented, “You said all your changelings have these? Is your hive so filthy? Do you have no sanitation?”

“Changelings do not share the pony obsession with cleanliness,” Chrysalis muttered.

Mirage shook her head and tsked. “You must have known this wasn’t normal.”

Chrysalis shrugged. “When our legs itch and burn, we go to the pools in the lower levels of our hive, and we step into the cool water for relief.”

“I see. They probably release their eggs into the water. Then the larva hatch and are ready to bore into the next living thing they encounter. You get a feeling of relief and don’t even know you’re spreading these to everyone else who enters the pool.”

After she’d cleared all the worms from that leg, she bandaged it. She opined, “From what I know of similar parasites, these holes should heal up well, though perhaps not quickly. We must keep them clean and not allow any infection to take hold.”

She started on the next leg, dabbing on grease as she had done before. She explained, “This closes off their air supply. After a few minutes they worm their way to the opening of the hole to try and breathe. It makes them easier for me to grab.”

Treating all four legs was a lengthy ordeal, and the bandages left Chrysalis looking like a polo pony. Exhausted, she flopped onto her side and slept.

Hypnotized

The next day Chrysalis got out of her bed and began exploring the adobe hut and its immediate surroundings. It was situated in an oasis, although nothing like the illusion she’d seen before. The hut was flanked by mature shade trees, and the small lake nearby was home to fish and fowl. As soon as she ventured out, Mirage had strictly warned her against wading into any water or mud until her legs were healed.

Mirage later found the changeling queen resting couchant upon a flat rock near the water’s edge and said to her, “Feeling better already, I take it? You should recover more quickly with those parasites no longer sapping your strength. You may even put on some weight.”

Chrysalis turned her head and glanced back at her own body. “Is that good?”

Mirage nodded. “I should think so. I may not be familiar with your kind, but you look emaciated to my eyes. One hardly expects a queen to be underfed.”

Chrysalis mulled that over briefly, then asked, “When do you think I will be able to cast spells again?”

“I don’t think it would hurt you to try casting a very small one and see what happens.”

Chrysalis bit her lip and turned her eyes upward towards her gnarled horn, obviously reluctant. Then she closed her eyes and flinched, but all that happened was the appearance of sparkling green light from her horn. She blinked. “It worked? It doesn’t hurt!” She tried levitating several pebbles from the ground nearby. “I’ve missed my magic so much. And there’s one spell I’ve really wanted to use.”

“Oh? What’s that?”

Chrysalis grinned. “Come closer and I’ll show you. Sit here and look into my eyes, won’t you?”

As instructed, Mirage kneeled beside Chrysalis and met her gaze. The changeling queen’s eyes began to shimmer with emerald green, and she said, “Be calm now. You trust me, don’t you?”

The green glimmer was reflected in Mirage’s eyes before she replied, “I trust you.”

Chrysalis grinned and commanded, “You will not mock me or show any further disrespect.”

Mirage’s face went blank as she repeated, “I will not mock you or show any further disrespect.”

Chrysalis stared intently, both eyes and horn glowing emerald as she continued, “You and I are the best of friends, and you would do anything for me.”

Mirage replied dully, “You and I are the best of friends, and you would do anything for me.”

Chrysalis hesitated for a moment, confusion flickered across her face. “What…?”

Mirage leaned forward, her green eyes glowing more brightly. “And you would never ever try to mesmerize me.”

Chrysalis’s jaw worked up and down mutely a couple of times, then all expression faded from her face and she replied dully, “I would never ever try to mezz… mezzumm…

Mirage sighed and prompted, “Mind control.”

“I would never ever try to mind control you.”

Mirage grinned and added, “You won’t mind if I backtalk you or call you silly names. And you always listen to my advice, don’t you?”

“I won’t mind if you backtalk me or call me silly names. I always listen to your advice,” Chrysalis agreed in a lifeless monotone.

Mirage murred, “You won’t remember this conversation, of course.”

“I won’t remember this conversation,” Chrysalis droned.

The green glow faded, and Mirage suddenly snapped her fingers in front of Chrysalis’s muzzle, prompting her to blink and sputter, “What? What happen?”

Mirage smiled and shrugged. “You zoned out for a moment. Your mind must have been far, far away.”

Chrysalis shook her head as if trying to clear the cobwebs. “How strange.”

“You’d better not overdo the magic, Bug Brain. Too much, too soon, might cause you harm.”

Chrysalis frowned and nodded. “That is… probably good advice. Thank you, my friend!”

Morbia the Shadow Realm

On the rude cot that served as her bed, Queen Chrysalis tossed and turned, and she muttered in her sleep. “Stop the intruders… stop those little ponies…” She grimaced and whined softly as she rolled over. “Insubordinate… traitorous grubs… your queen commands you… no… no no…” Her body spasmed and her eyes flicked open as she cried out, “No!”

She froze, mouth hanging open for a moment as she struggled to understand where she was. Her bandaged legs were tangled in the bedding Mirage had provided. She went limp and sighed roughly. For a few moments she lay quietly, then she kicked aside the covers and slipped out of bed. She started to flex her wings but winced as the muscles were still sore from her earlier flight across the desert.

“And what are you yelping about?” came Mirage’s inquiry, from where she stood at the door.

Chrysalis whirled, startled. “Don’t sneak up on me! Announce yourself to royalty!” She narrowed her eyes and waggled a hoof at Mirage and added, “It wouldn’t hurt you to bow down, for that matter.”

Mirage’s ears drooped. “Bow down? But am I not your closest friend?” A glimmer of emerald green flashed in her eyes as she moved closer, holding Chrysalis’s gaze. “And your closest advisor as well.”

Chrysalis took a hesitant step back, a confused expression flickering across her face. “uhh… of course…” Then she squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. “What?” A green aura flickered up and down her gnarled horn for a moment. Then her eyes opened again, but this time filled with rage. She snarled, “Traitor! Backstabber! You tried to mind-control me!”

Mirage merely quirked an eyebrow. “Tried? I had you going pretty well there for a while. Besides, I merely turned your own clumsy spell back against you. You wouldn’t have broken it so easily if it had been one of mine.” She flashed a confident smile.

Her retort only increased Chrysalis’s fury. “You’ll pay a terrible price for your betrayal, Mirage!” A bright green aura flared up from her horn, and a bolt of hostile magic lashed out. However, it passed easily through its target, impacting the adobe wall while Mirage herself faded from view.

Chrysalis blinked at the empty space where Mirage had been an instant before. “What?”

The feline’s voice came from behind. “I’ve been patient with you, changeling.” Chrysalis spun to find Mirage standing in the opposite end of the room from where she’d been before. The smirk was gone, ears turned back, teeth bared. “Uncharacteristically patient. Was it all just a waste of time?”

Chrysalis answered with another magical blast, but the result was the same: Mirage vanished, and a smoking hole burned into the adobe wall. “Stand still!” she shrieked. “How are you doing that?”

A chuckle echoed through the cottage, and a pair of green phantom-like eyes stared down from a place near the ceiling. “You’re nothing more than a spoiled brat throwing a tantrum. You need a time-out.”

A green fire appeared under Chrysalis’s feet, and it rapidly expanded into the circumference of a black pit. Chrysalis buzzed her wings just in time to keep from falling in. It was no use, though. Ropy tentacles whipped upward through the portal, latched onto her legs, and pulled her down into the blackness. Her panicked scream was cut off when the portal closed behind her.

Chrysalis wasn’t sure what happened or how long it was before she regained consciousness. When she did, she found herself lying on cold, rough stone. Raising her head, she blinked blearily at a night sky, but it was unlike any she’d ever seen before. She clambered unsteadily to her feet, then gawped at her surroundings.

The sky held no sun, no moon or stars. Instead there were barren boulders of various sizes and shapes scattered in all directions, drifting and tumbling. The sky itself glowed softly in shades of indigo and purple, with auroras twisting slowly across it, shedding a dim light (but adequate for sensitive changeling eyes) across everything. As she watched, a fireball flared and streaked the distance for a few seconds before burning out.

There didn’t even seem to be an up or down in this place, aside from some form of gravity securing Chrysalis to her own boulder. She flexed her wings and lifted off, and flew to a larger boulder, but it proved just as bare and uninteresting as the one she’d left.

After investigating a few more, she began to feel there was nothing more to find in this blasted dimension, this featureless maze without walls. She belatedly realized she’d lost track of which boulder she’d started on, on the off chance that it even mattered. She slumped on the cold stone and closed her eyes, wishing she had something to cover herself, some shelter to hide from the howling void. Changelings were burrowing, tunneling creatures. Being exposed in a wide open space, unprotected and visible from all directions, was deeply unsettling for Chrysalis.

She never knew how long she cowered there before she heard a mocking voice: “Are the accommodations to your liking, Your Most Royal Majesty?”

Chrysalis scrambled to her feet. “Mirage!” The feline looked different, though. She floated, sans wings, easily hovering above the surface of the boulder. Her raiment was much changed from the humble brown robes she’d always worn before. She now wore a skirt of deep red silk and golden hem, and a matching top with flared shoulders and gold collar, a broad golden belt clasped by a giant ruby, gold bands on her arms, gold binders for her long (and seemingly pony-like) black mane — and a golden crown with the protective figure of a cobra arching above her forehead.

Mirage floated down to the stony surface and landed daintily upon her feet. Chrysalis lowered her head, pointing her horn, and growled, “Where am I? What have you done?”

Mirage gestured to their surroundings with a graceful wave of her clawed hand. “I’ve merely introduced you to my place of power. Welcome to Morbia the Shadow Realm!”

Chrysalis glanced around once again at the cosmic wasteland. “I… I don’t like it here. Take me back to your home!”

Mirage shook her head. “This is my true home, and you don’t give orders here. Return to Equis yourself, if you can!”

“I can make you return me,” Chrysalis yelled, and she fired another bolt of green magic, but the image of Mirage merely dissipated again and re-formed elsewhere, hovering once more, and laughing.

“Slow learner, are you?” she taunted. “You should know by now that won’t work on me. But go ahead, waste your energy!”

Chrysalis glared. “What do you want from me?”

“All in good time. There are things I want you to see. Come!” Mirage gestured come-hither.

Reluctantly, Chrysalis flitted her wings and flew close by Mirage, who then stretched out her hand and, with a violent discharge of magic, conjured a massive, floating island with a flat top and a stone structure founded upon it: a building of stone with a giant sphinx incorporated into its facade, the entrance a black, rectangular opening between its front legs. Upon each of the front paws of the sphinx sat a guardian: a deep red, panther-like cat. Small flames flickered around each guardian, but they showed no sign of discomfort.

Still reeling slightly from the great discharge of magical energies that Mirage had so casually employed, Chrysalis tried to interpret what she saw. She didn’t have much experience with architecture, but she recognized the structure as some sort of temple. (If she had taken a moment to reflect, which she was not often inclined to do, she might have recalled seeing something like it on the cover of one of those ridiculous Daring Do books that her changelings sometimes brought back from pony lands.) Mirage flew down to alight at the entrance, and Chrysalis followed.

Mirage gestured upward, and both of the guardians erupted into flame, transformed in an instant to pure fire. The flames leapt down to Mirage’s side, their heat forcing Chrysalis to take a step back, but in a moment they transformed back to felines again. Mirage smiled and petted one of them. “This is my temple. If you ever approach it without my permit, you’ll have these Fire Cats to contend with.” She scratched under their chins, then dismissed them. “Return to your posts!” The fire cats yowled and burst into flames again, as they leapt up to their guarding positions.

“Come along!” Mirage ordered, and she proceeded into the temple. Chrysalis followed warily through the hallways. Torches mounted in sconces flared into life whenever Mirage neared, and she led the way past stone walls with indecipherable carvings, chambers housing finely carved sarcophagi, chests, and other treasures.

After passing through the corridors, they entered a vast hypostyle hall with a ceiling supported by an orderly forest of lotus columns that bore only traces of once-colorful paints. Chrysalis lagged, moving slowly as she stared at the largest enclosed space she’d ever seen. Her feet trailed through sand that had drifted across cracked and worn tiles.

There was also a dais and a throne, sturdy and timeless, carved from thick blocks of granite. Mirage floated over to it and took her seat. From out of the shadows stepped a pair of shaggy, bipedal creatures, which Chrysalis could only interpret as some sort of goat-minotaurs. Each of them clutched a wicked looking spear, and they stood at attention by either side of Mirage’s throne. Sounds of movement, scuffling and snorting, echoed around the vast chamber, and Chrysalis caught glimpses of movement in the shadows, and flashes of light reflecting from eyes.

“Don’t hide!” Mirage called out. “Introduce yourselves to Queen Chrysalis, my minions!” From behind the columns and out of the shadows they came, muscular, lizard-like, squat creatures that seemed equally inclined to walk on two legs or on all fours. Chrysalis’s wings twitched reflexively as she realized she was surrounded. Mirage explained, “These are the Al Quetib, my army of darkness. They were once mortal children, unwanted and uncared-for. I took them from the streets and transformed them with a seed of evil.” She reached her hand to pet a particularly large and athletic specimen that had been bold enough to approach her throne.

Chrysalis cringed as a couple of the monsters sniffed curiously at her. “That’s, uhh… impressive, I suppose. Why did you bring me here?” She desperately hoped the answer wasn’t feeding time.

Mirage leaned forward and bared her fangs, and said, “Earlier today you suggested that it wouldn’t hurt me to bow down to you.”

Chrysalis’s jaw worked up and down a couple of times but found no words. She closed her mouth, closed her eyes, and stretched her forelegs in front of her, lowering her head in the typical equine gesture of submission.

Mirage sat back in her throne, at least partially mollified. “Now then, we’ve established the natural order of things. However, I didn’t bring you here merely to correct your misapprehension of our relationship. I have an offer for you.” She frowned at the kneeling changeling and made a lifting gesture with her hands. “You may rise.”

Chrysalis rose, unsteadily.

“Chrysalis, so-called Queen of the Changelings… You were a Petty Queen at best, even before being ousted from whatever quaint little tribe you led. It’s true that you have a surplus of magical energy, but without much knowledge or skill in its use. Swear fealty to me as your High Queen, and become my faithful subordinate! I shall instruct you in secrets of the cosmos, passed down from the Ancient Spirits of Evil. You can regain all you have lost and take revenge on those responsible for your downfall.”

Chrysalis’s face lit up with hope. “Yes! That’s what I want. You’ll really help me?” With the aid of Mirage’s army of darkness, surely taking back control of her hive would be nymph’s play.

“Of course I will! It’ll all be in service to me, anyhow. You and your little changelings will join the ranks of my minions. Ahh, the misery we shall inflict on an unsuspecting world!” She grinned toothily, eyes alight, and she clenched a fist. “From sea to sea, to the hills and valleys, cities and farms, there will be no laughter, no children playing — only the corpses of rebels and ashes of dreams on blood-stained streets. And then how the wails of sweet despair will rise from every home!”

Chrysalis started to take a step back, only to be halted by a growl from an Al Quetib behind her. “But… What about love?”

Mirage blinked and wrinkled her nose, confused. “What?”

“It’s just that changelings get our power from stolen love. We disguise ourselves as ponies, and then…”

Mirage barked out a startled laugh, almost a hiccup. “Love? That’s a joke, right? You can’t be serious.” She stood and walked down the steps of the dais to confront Chrysalis directly, to peer into her eyes. “You’re serious. How is that even possible? Love is the most ridiculous of all sentiments. It’s nothing more than…” She waggled her fingers dismissively as she sneered. “…a tingly feeling. The idea of drawing power from it is absurd.”

Chrysalis retorted, “You may think so, but it’s how my kind survive. If you create a world devoid of love, there’ll be nothing left to sustain us.”

Mirage shrugged lightly, and turned to climb the steps to her throne again. Over her shoulder she remarked, “Not my problem. You’ll just have to learn to subsist on terror, misery and despair if you want a place in my empire.”

“I don’t think it works that way,” Chrysalis began to argue.

Mirage turned to face her again, teeth bared. “You can adapt or die,” she snarled. She sat on her throne and said, more calmly, “Now, make your choice! Swear your oath of fealty to Mirage, the Queen of All Evil!”

Chrysalis glared up at her. “Do I even have a choice?”

Mirage smiled and answered sweetly, “Of course you do. All my minions come to me of their own accord. You’re free to reject my offer. Oh, I’ll be disappointed… but I’m sure I’ll soon forget all about you.”

Sensing a trap, Chrysalis prodded, “That’s it? If I say no, you’ll just let me go?”

Mirage leaned forward. “I didn’t say I’d let you go. I said I’d forget all about you. I doubt whether you’ll ever find a way out of Morbia, but that won’t be my problem either, will it? You’ll never even find this temple again without my help.”

Chrysalis lowered her head, looking at the ground and scuffing a hoof in the sand uncertainly. “If I pretend to agree and then bide my time,” she thought, “maybe I’ll get a chance to escape and carry a warning back to the hive.” She raised her head and looked up to Mirage and said, “Very well.” Then she stretched out her forelegs and lowered her head in a submissive bow, as she had before. “I acknowledge you as High Queen and shall serve you faithfully. So swears Queen Chrysalis.”

Mirage clapped her hands a few times, slowly. “Well spoken! So sincere! And yet, I require something more than the sweet words of a deceiver to guarantee your loyalty. Rise — and observe!”

Chrysalis stood and saw that Mirage had also risen from her throne. She stood with a dark sphere clutched in her hands, like a smoky crystal orb with emerald flames flickering eerily within. Her eyes shimmered with the same light as she explained, “The Charm of the Seer shall bind you to my will — far beyond the crude hypnosis you attempted on me.”

“No!” Chrysalis gasped as she took an involuntary step back, but she felt herself grabbed by strong, scaly claws from all sides.

Mirage took a step closer, holding forth the orb. “Gaze into the flames! Yes… Already you are unable to look away. Let its magic steal your soul away! My servant you’ll be for all time.”

Chrysalis’s body shook as she tried to pull away, to turn her head, to close her eyes, but she could not. She felt something that burned like acid seeping into her mind. In panic she cast a crude spell of mental defense to try and resist, but began to fizzle at once, buying her only a few seconds. “It can’t end like this!” she thought.

Author's Note

Sorry for the long delay getting this out! I'll try and wrap things up soon.

Chaos

Chrysalis tried pouring more magical power into her mental defense, but it was degrading faster than she could shore it up. Mirage grinned, fangs showing, as she pressed her advantage.

Then she was swatted on the head with a corn straw broom. “Stop right there!” shouted a shrill, male voice.

The unexpected attack ruined Mirage’s concentration and disrupted her spell on Chrysalis. She whirled and snarled, “WHO DARES?!?”

Clutching the broom handle was a furred, bipedal creature — a skunk, judging by its black and white coloration and its huge, fuzzy tail. The creature was garbed in a bright crimson robe, cummerbund and capelet, and wide-brimmed hat, and a large, golden amulet (depicting a horseshoe) dangled from a chain around his neck. He barked a laugh, “Haha! Nobody expects the Skunkish Inquisition!” Then he swatted her again, knocking her crown askew.

Also present — inexplicably — were two other skunk-creatures, dressed alike save that one had a red hood upon its head and the other a leather aviator’s helmet and goggles. Vigorously they began swatting the Al Quetib with their brooms. Chaos erupted in the chamber, as Mirage’s monsters seemed unable to fight back, and they blundered into one another as they scrambled to get away, fleeing to the same shadows they’d emerged from.

Chrysalis watched, too dumbfounded to even think of making her own escape.

Mirage swiped at the one who’d assaulted her, and streaks of bright green magic trailed from her claws. The skunk yelped as its body ripped apart like tissue paper, but then dissolved into a cloud of smoke — which quickly re-formed nearby, apparently uninjured, and joined in the attack on Mirage’s minions. “Stop that!” she shrieked. “You’re ruining everything!”

Another male voice sounded out, saying, “What’s that, Mirage? Am I unwelcome in your little gathering?” Looking up, they saw a winged cat — of the four legged sort, unlike Mirage — flapping lazily as he descended and came to a landing on the high back of Mirage’s throne. His fur was sky blue, save for his cream colored belly and face, and the little black goatee that curled beneath his chin. Golden cuffs adorned his front legs, and he wore a golden collar with a red horseshoe marked on it.

Mirage’s eyes went wide, and she stammered. “No, no… no, not at all! I’m, uh… delighted to have you.” She dropped to her knees.

“I’m dreaming again, aren’t I?” Chrysalis wondered aloud.

“Kneel down, you fool!” Mirage hissed to her. Then, with a gesture, indicated the smaller feline and said, “This is Lord Chaos!”

He stared back at Mirage expectantly. “Aaaand…?” he prompted.

She gritted her teeth and added, “Lord Chaos, Master of the Surprise. Instigator of Anarchy. Maximum disruptor. Juggler of fortune and fame.” Then she muttered, “Fruit of the Loops.”

Lord Chaos cocked an ear. “What was that?”

Mirage forced a smile and answered, “It’s a term of endearment.” She stood, which Chrysalis took as her cue to do likewise.

Lounging on the throne, Chaos shook his head. “Oh, Mirage, Mirage, Mirage… What will I ever do with you? You’ve been naughty — which, I’m sad to say, is not surprising at all.”

Feigning astonishment, Mirage drew a hand to her bosom. “Me, naughty? Here I am merely recruiting a new minion to help me spread misery and despair, yet I can only wonder what I might possibly have done to displease you, the veritable paragon of disharmony and strife?”

Chaos frowned and furrowed his brow. “Did I, or did I not, expressly forbid you from returning to Morbia?”

Mirage laughed nervously. “Ahaha! Oh, this place? It’s not Morbia at all! Tis merely an illusion I created to befuddle this changeling.” With a wave of her hand she cast away the illusion, revealing the desert oasis with her cottage nearby and empty walls of abandoned buildings looming on all sides, remnants of a forgotten village or desert trading post. The throne Lord Chaos sprawled upon was revealed as merely part of a broken adobe wall.

Chrysalis stumbled back, wings raised, and exclaimed, “What?! None of this was real?”

Mirage admitted, “None of it! We never left the oasis, and we certainly never went to Morbia.” She looked to Chaos. “So you see, I never defied your dictum.”

Chaos shook his head. “Tisk tisk. Mirage, your attempt to worm your way around the spirit of my decree is all too predictable. I banished you from Morbia for your own benefit. You were stuck in a rut, always obsessing over evil plans and schemes. Destroy this, despair that! I hoped this would force you to think outside the box, try something different.”

Mirage narrowed her eyes. “By stranding me in this worthless, pony-infested land?”

“Yes! And it was working.” He gestured at Chrysalis with his forepaws. “Look, you’ve already made a friend! Who would ever have expected that?” He noted the expression on her face, and he winced. “Ooooh… And it looks like you’ve already lost one too. How much more innnnteresting can this get?”

Mirage growled, “What do you want from me, Lord Chaos?”

He flexed his claws on one forepaw and casually examined them for a moment before responding. “Well. Since you technically didn’t defy me, I’m technically not going to turn you into the world’s most evil kumquat. However… Your new recruit might have some ideas of her own. I think I’ll just leave the two of you to work things out among yourselves — and without illusions this time.” He flapped his wings and lifted off from his perch, and he grinned and waved. “Toodeloo!” Then, with a puff of magic, he was gone.

Mirage turned to face Chrysalis, who was already taking to the air with a scowl on her muzzle. Mirage was once again garbed in humble brown cloth — her golden regalia had been an illusion as well. Seeing this, the changeling queen hissed, “You’re nothing but a fraud.”

Mirage growled back at her, “I’m a deceiver just like you, youngster. But don’t make the mistake of thinking I’m powerless outside of Morbia.”

“We’ll see!” came the retort. Emerald light bloomed from Chrysalis’s gnarled horn, and an instant later flared out in an etherial bolt.

That instant was just enough warning for Mirage, with feline reflexes, to leap away from the attack and come to rest upon a broken pillar. A gout of sandy earth kicked up where the spell impacted. A sudden realization flashed through Chrysalis’s mind: “She must have been dodging all along. Her illusions made it look like my spells couldn’t touch her.”

Chrysalis’s horn flared again to follow up the attack, but this time her magic took the form of a glowing net that spread wide in the air as it flew toward Mirage. The feline snarled and slashed at the air with her claws extended, and her own green magic trailed out from them to cut the net open before it reached her.

Another slash followed, directed toward Chrysalis. She tried to duck under, but the magical attack clipped her wings, then impacted the ruined wall behind her — and brought it tumbling down in a cloud of dust.

Mirage narrowed her eyes, peering into the dust while holding her claws extended, ready to strike again. A slab of stone was pushed aside, and Chrysalis clambered out of the rubble. Her insectile wings were clipped and mangled, her body filthy with pale dust, and anger plainly painted upon her face.

Again hostile magic lashed out from Mirage, and Chrysalis lunged to avoid it, though she was pelted with gravel flung up from the spot where the blast landed. Another blast followed, and another, but now she’d figured out the timing and how to dodge them as she worked her way closer to her foe.

The changeling’s horn flashed as she cast her own attack — not at Mirage, but at the pillar she stood atop. Mirage leapt away gracefully, but a black pit opened below her. Her eyes went wide, ears pinned back as she twisted her body in mid-air. With an ugly thump she hit the edge of the pit; her claws flexed and dug into the earth to keep her from going in.

A black hoof came down on Mirage’s hand. Chrysalis leered at the feline below and leaned weight onto the hand, twisting and grinding. Mirage’s muzzle screwed with pain, but feline agility once again saved her as she flipped her body up and out of the pit, and her claws raked a furrow red across Chrysalis’s face. She tumbled acrobatically across the changeling’s back and landed on her feet, only to be slammed with the reflexive kick of a hind-hoof.

Chrysalis whirled around as her horn charged up a spell. Mirage heaved, the breath knocked out of her, and barely managed to lift her arm and choke out a word: “aegis.” A round shield flashed into existence upon her arm just in time to deflect the attack back toward Chrysalis. The ether bolt grazed her shoulder, making her stumble.

Mirage took advantage to scramble away, take shelter behind a broken adobe wall, and catch her breath. Chrysalis snorted and backed away, likewise taking a moment to ponder her next move.

When she could once again speak freely, Mirage called out: “You are powerful, but your magic will run out. You’ll find no love here to replenish it. Then, when your strength fades and despair takes root, I’ll only become stronger.”

Chrysalis muttered to herself, “Then I’ll have to finish this quickly.” Her horn glowed once more, and part of a broken stone column silently levitated behind her foe’s hiding place. It floated over Mirage’s head — but the feline’s whiskers twitched, and she glanced upward, then jumped aside as the boulder crashed down.

Mirage made a lifting gesture with both hands, and the ground erupted in several places nearby, geysers shooting into the air — but these were not geysers of water or mud. They were countless thousands of flying insects, large black bees that zipped through the air like bullets. Grinning wickedly, Mirage gestured toward Chrysalis, and the insects surged toward her. A panicked shriek was heard as she disappeared in the dense swarm.

Mirage watched, poised and tense, as she awaited the outcome of her attack. The swirling mass of insects calmed, the tone of their angry buzz altering, then they flew higher like a cloud lifting to reveal Chrysalis, apparently unharmed. Her horn was glowing, and she fixed her eyes upon Mirage and said, “Really? You thought you could turn these against me? Let me introduce you to something we call the hive mind!”

The swarm surged back toward the one who’d summoned it. Mirage hissed and swiped at the air with her claws trailing emerald fire. Bees burst into flames and scattered across the ground, twitching and dying. There were still thousands coming at her. She swatted again and again, incinerating the bugs in great swaths. However, her magical fire was no use against those that reached her and clung to her body — and began biting and stinging.

Struggling to keep the bees away from her eyes, Mirage fled. She ran for the marshy edge of the small lake that anchored the oasis, and she dove into the water. There she thrashed about, knocking loose the biting insects. Out of their element, they were helpless in the water, though many more remained buzzing angrily above Mirage’s head. Every time she raised her head, some came after her. She swatted with magical fire again and again, further reducing their numbers until the few remaining finally gave up and dispersed.

Muddy and soaked, exhausted and stinging, Mirage crawled onto dry land — only to be greeted by the mocking laughter of Queen Chrysalis. As the changeling stifled her mirth she commented, “The irony cuts deep, doesn’t it?”

Mirage glowered and responded, “Just go! Leave me to my misery!”

Chrysalis stepped closer. “Oh, but it is not that easy. I can’t allow you to turn the world into a loveless wasteland where all of my kind will starve.”

Mirage spat, “Do you really think I’m in any position to do that? Cut off from Morbia, with no thralls to serve me and no illusions?” She growled and raised her golden shield — although dirty with mud and moss, the face of a lion embossed on it was still visible. “If you think you can destroy me, you’ll find I’m no easy meat. You’ll be weakened too. You’d better save your energy if you want to ever get out of this place alive.”

Chrysalis hesitated. She’d already spent a lot of power, and her memory of being lost in the desert was still fresh. After some moments she sat on the ground and muttered, “Where can I even go?”

Mirage lowered her shield and stood up. “It seems that our predicaments are not too different.” She looked around and then pointed toward the east. “Far across the ocean is Lopanga, from whence the zebras came. And still further, past their lands, is Kemet, the greatest of all civilizations. That is where you should go.”

Chrysalis quirked a skeptical eyebrow. “Because?”

“You have power, but your education is sorely lacking — especially for one who calls herself a queen. The wealth and knowledge of Kemet make Equestria seem like a squalid backwater.” She sighed and added, “I would go there myself. I could be there in a heartbeat, if I were able to pass through Morbia. With that path closed to me, the journey is very long and difficult.”

Chrysalis thought for a moment and gazed toward the east where Mirage had pointed. Equestria, a squalid backwater? Her imagination failed. Her hive was barely a dirt mound in the shadow of Equestria. It was why she’d launched her ill-fated invasion. It was unfair for her changelings to have nothing while the ponies lived in luxury. She’d thought she could just… take it all.

Mirage watched closely while Chrysalis pondered, sensing that she might be tempted. Then she offered, “We could travel to Kemet together.”

Chrysalis blinked, startled. “After you tried to enslave me?”

Mirage’s ears drooped. “Yes, I tried, and my gambit failed. And now I’m beaten. And before all that I did save your miserable life, in case you’ve forgotten.”

Chrysalis glanced down at the bandages remaining on her legs. She looked to Mirage again. “No plunging the world into despair?”

Mirage shrugged. “Not any time soon. And perhaps Lord Chaos was right after all, in his painfully annoying way. Perhaps I need to broaden my horizons.”

Chrysalis took a deep breath before saying, “You won’t catch me unawares again, you know that?”

A hint of a smile formed on Mirage’s muzzle. “So it seems. Shall we go clean ourselves up and begin to lay our travel plans?”

Chrysalis gestured toward the adobe cottage, inviting Mirage to go ahead.

Epilogue

Days after their battle, Chrysalis and Mirage had recovered from their bruises and cuts, and they had improvised saddlebags and a haversack with which to carry supplies on their journey. They waited at the edge of the oasis, both sitting with blankets wrapped around them to ward off the cold morning air, waiting for dawn to break and signal their moment to depart.

Mirage glanced at Chrysalis’s legs, now with their bandages removed, holes almost disappeared. Then she asked, “How are your wings?”

Chrysalis answered, “The new ones are growing in normally. It will be some while yet before I can fly, though. How are your illusions?”

Instead of speaking, Mirage only smiled. Then her form blurred and swirled, and in a moment a perfect representation of Princess Celestia sat in her place, complete with her regalia and multi-colored, etherial mane.

“GAAH!!” Chrysalis jumped back, losing her blanket.

Mirage laughed in perfect mimickry of Celestia’s voice, and said, “It seems Lord Chaos merely suppressed my powers for a little while.”

Chrysalis frowned, and her horn glowed as she cast a spell, then the image of Celestia became transparent and phantom-like, revealing Mirage within. Chrysalis snorted softly. “You won’t fool me again.”

Still grinning, Mirage shrugged and dispelled the illusion entirely.

Chrysalis looked to the horizon. “Dawn is breaking,” she observed. She levitated her saddlebags and draped them over her withers, and the blanket across her back.

Mirage likewise stood and picked up her haversack. As she moved to position it comfortably for walking, Chrysalis asked her, “Do you think Lord Chaos will be satisfied with our alliance?”

Mirage shook her head. “Who can say? Lord Chaos is like a child, but a child with almost unlimited power. I humor his absurd whims — for now. Someday he will be put in his place.”

She stepped out into the desert, and Chrysalis followed.

Somewhere in another dimension, in a place utterly impossible to describe with mere words, a winged blue cat played among his many scattered toys. He pushed two of them together and said, “Now kiss!”

FROG Jam

Later in the evening Mirage came to Chrysalis bearing a wooden platter with a mug, some toast and a small jar. “I have something for you to drink,” she said as she offered the mug.

Chrysalis’s horn sparkled green, and she picked up the mug with her magic, moved it near her muzzle and sniffed. “This seems familiar.”

Mirage explained, “It’s a tea made from the desert scrub bushes that grow near here. Its flavor is bitter and aggressively vile. However, I suggest you drink it and attempt to keep it down.”

Chrysalis glared at Mirage. “And why would I do that?”

“Based on what I know of your prior living conditions, it seems very likely that you have internal parasites in addition to the ones I removed from your skin. This should kill them.”

Chrysalis scowled into the mug. After a few moments she asked, “Are you sure this is safe?”

Mirage shrugged lightly. “I have no experience with your species. This cure is used by the zebras, though. You’ll have to make your own decision.”

Chrysalis muttered, “I hope I don’t regret this.” Then she took a deep breath, scrunched up her muzzle, and she drank. A trickle of liquid ran down the side of her mouth, but she drained the mug. Her magic immediately flickered out, and she dropped the mug. Her eyes squeezed shut and she groaned with utter revulsion, and she heaved.

“Try not to be sick!” Mirage coached. “Take a nibble of this, it may help.” She proffered the toast smeared with some sort of spread taken from the jar.

Chrysalis grabbed the toast with her magic and took a bite from it. As she chewed she began to relax and breathe more freely, and didn’t try to puke again. After a couple more bites she commented, “That is not bad.”

“It’s FROG jam.”

Chrysalis stopped chewing while her eyes went wide.

Mirage elaborated, “F-R-O-G. Figs, raspberries, oranges and ginger. The ginger root is particularly helpful in settling the stomach.”

Chrysalis relaxed, swallowed, and went on to finish the rest of her toast. She commented, “Your tea was truly disgusting, though. If you ever visit the hive, I must introduce you to our famous OWL wine.”

“Oh? What’s it made from?”

“Pressed and fermented owls.” Mirage raised a hand to her muzzle, and Chrysalis smiled with amusement as she added, needlessly, “It is not particularly nice.”

Author's Note

Just a little tidbit that really ought to have been part of the previous chapter.

Next chapter will the big one where some things happen.