At the far end of Canterlot Castle’s almost-empty study, the great wall clock began to toll. Queen Nightmare Moon gracefully sat on a wide, luxurious couch. With its red velvet covering and rosewood armrests, the couch matched the rooms darker, sublime and slightly mysterious design.
From far up in the sky, a splendid full moon shone its cold, calm light through the roof’s came glasswork, and a six-armed candlestand on the end table of the couch complemented its light. Not because Moon needed the additional light. One of her natural gifts was an almost perfect night vision—everything her lunar orb shone upon was discernible without any problems. Due to this gift, the few rays of moonlight lit the room far better than the chandelier. However, Moon liked the warm, orange flickering of the candles. Just like the sun once had, they covered their surrounding with a warmth her moon simply couldn’t provide.
Moon leaned herself against the backrest, sacrificing her regal pose for a more comfortable one. It was now officially midnight. Though nothing except clocks hinted towards the time of day anymore, this hour still held a special value. It marked the end of one night and the beginning of the next, the end of a pony’s workshift and the beginning of their free time or the other way around, but that was not the only thing the bells pronounced.
It was now exactly one year. One year since Nightmare Moon had returned. One year since she had banished Celestia into the sun that would never rise again. One year since she had taken what was hers by right.
She closed her eyes and held her breath, before slowly releasing it again. After the clock became silent, Moon was left wondering. Her gaze wandered through the windows and across the star formations of the sky, ultimately ending up focused on the moon. Did it lessen something’s beauty if it was freely exposed to observation all the time? Or wouldn't the constant view always spawn new discoveries of her beautiful night sky? Could somepony really grow tired of a picture that was so graceful and so rich in detail that an entire lifespan would not be enough to admire it?
No, Moon thought, while focusing her thoughts back to the book in her magic grip, it is just right the way it is.
Moon had taken Celestia’s study mostly as it was, except a few minor changes concerning the decoration. She had the room repainted from its original, virulent sunflower yellow into a far calmer, relaxing midnight blue. The oak parquet had been replaced by black and violet tiles, and portraits of famous royals as well as several captains of the guard had been forced to make way for a long row of marble sculptures. The sculptures showed the zodiac animals she or her alter ego Luna had created on the celestial sphere. Ursa Minor and Ursa Major were placed right next to each other, similar to Lupus and Canis. Leo, Taurus, Scorpio, Equa and many more now graced the walls in an accurate row.
The former portraits of the descendants of the royal families had been moved to a museum, but she’d had the pictures of the Captains burned in the courtyard. Those were more than just memories of the individual ponies. They were part of Celestia’s legacy. Dozens of Captains, all loyal servants of her. Each and every one of them a traitor to Equestrias’ true queen.
In addition, since Celestia had made great efforts to let Moon be forgotten as soon as possible after her defeat, Moon was now eager to in turn erase Celestia’s reign from the population’s mind. A hundred years from now, nopony would remember Celestia as more than a side note in the history books; the one who had so dearly betrayed Equestria’s rightful queen.
On the other hoof, she could always introduce a special holiday, just like Celestia once had, to warp the events and to frighten the population at the mere thought of their former leader. Give her something sweet to bite, or Solar Flare burns you on the spot, Moon jested. Yes, that would be just as legitimate.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
“You may enter,” she said. There were but few ponies who were allowed to disturb her at this late hour. She made an effort to get all of her royal duties done until midnight, because after a minute of silence—reminding everypony of the torments she had gone through during her banishment—state business was officially over.
After this, every single one of her subjects, as long as they were not hindered by vital workings, was encouraged to spend time with their families, friends and loved ones. Due to Equestria’s recent gain in wealth that had followed her coup d'état, theatres, restaurants and other cultural establishments were usually completely booked out, a testament to the success of her economic reforms. However, while her subjects had their activities and rituals to fill the following free time with, she had her own.
“Your tea, Your Highness,” a gentle voice from behind informed her.
Pleased by the punctuality of Celestia’s former servant, Moon gestured towards the small end table next to her. In perfect traditional manner, the white-coated unicorn with the dark brown mane walked over to her and placed the porcelain cup and plate on the table while bowing her head down and performing a curtsey. Though losing visual with the object in one's telekinesis often lead to a slight shaking of the carried object, the mare had not spilled a single drop. She had also held a respectful distance to Moon, but had not reached out with her magic through the entire room to place the cup. Those were just small acts of decency, sure, but they were a continuously repeating proof of the high-class schooling of the servant.
“Thank you, Miss Inkwell,” Moon said. If anything, this attendant had proven to be steadfast. While a lot of Equestria’s government had gone into chaos in the first few weeks of her reign and a mandarin named Kibitz had played the bureaucratic squeaky wheel all the time, Raven Inkwell had proven to be the oasis of calm support Moon had needed. Her loyalty and professionalism during the time of change had impressed Moon, just as much as her knowledge of more traditional and formal behavior, something the slightly old-fashioned ruler appreciated a lot.
And her vast knowledge of teas, Moon thought as she lifted the cup towards her. By her wish, it was already slightly cooled down when Raven served it. How could anypony enjoy a beverage so hot it could as well be on fire? But even though it was no longer steamy hot, Moon could still smell the scents of the Earl Neigh. Oolong and black tea, refined with bergamot oil, the slice of a lemon on the edge of the cup and a tiny hint of sugar. This truly was a piece of art in its field of expertise.
“Can I be of assistance with anything else, Your Highness?” Raven asked after Moon had taken the first sip.
Moon’s gaze wandered towards one of the several windows of the study. A thought crept up in her mind. She enjoyed the presence of her personal attendant. Maybe, if she could find a topic, they could have a little chat…
She immediately banished the idea from her head. She was the Queen of Equestria, eternal ruler of the night, a demi-goddess to the peasantry. She could have nearly everything she wished for, but chatter with the castle’s servants was definitely not part of that. It just wasn’t appropriate for a queen.
“No, thank you, Miss Inkwell,” Moon dismissed her. The unicorn mare bowed deep to her, before she walked towards the exit of the study. Just before she left, Moon thought about at least one additional thing the servant could do for her. “Another cup of tea, maybe,” she proposed.
“As you wish, Your Highness,” Raven confirmed, before she set off towards the kitchen.
Back to nothing but silence and her thoughts alone, Moon reached out for her book again. It was a dramatic epic, written about 200 years ago. The author had been a nopony—an unknown writer from Vanhoover who had disappeared back into anonymity shortly after the publishing of this novel. But this one work of his had gone down into the annals of literature. It was a story of love and war set before the unification of Equestria, with quite vivid descriptions of the romantic scenes.
Knock. Knock.
Moon looked up from her book with a wondering glance towards the door. The servant hadn’t even been gone for half a page. Could she already be back with the tea? “Yes, enter,” she said.
To her surprise, the pony that entered her study was not Raven Inkwell. It was a cyan-coated pegasus guard. It took Moon only a moment to recognize her. The athletic stature, the piercing eyes, and—after she took her dark violet helmet off—especially the flattop rainbow mane were unique.
“Lieutenant Dash. I must say I am surprised to see you here at this hour,” she stated with a neutral tone. There were two reasons why the leader of one of her best combat flyer squads would come to see her in her private time. One was a statewide emergency the regional authorities could not handle; the other was an overbearing lack of discipline. It was an unwritten regulation to not disturb her after midnight, so for the sake of the Lieutenant she very much hoped for a statewide crisis of some sort.
“It is about the celebration plans for tomorrow,” Dash explained. “I had hoped you could tell me-”
Moon had lifted up one of her hooves to silence her. Her eyes burned with fury. “Did you have a glass of cider too much, Lieutenant? Not only do you disturb me in during my private time with this pettiness. Not only does it seem like you abandoned your post—or why else are you wearing your armor? But also you have just addressed your ruling monarch like a common civilian. If you are serious with this, be sure that this has been your last day as a Lieutenant of the Shadowbolts.” She ended her sharp reprimand by laying her book aside and slowly lifting herself off the red velvet of her couch.
“Ma’am, I am sorry for my behavior. I just need to know if we are expecting foreign guests for the ceremonies,” the Lieutenant said, continuing to rob her of her private time.
The plans for the festivities she was talking about—the one-year celebration of her victory over Celestia—had been discussed to death already, so this was the weakest reason for the visit Moon could think of.
“Lieutenant,” she hissed through gritted teeth, “the festivities of the Eternal Moon are country-internal and therefore no guests will be invited. We could not allow any attempts of sabotage from the remaining sun-loyal subjects nor from Celestia’s allies from oversea. And now that your stupid question is answered, be gone from my field of view before I send you where I once sent Celestia!” Toward the end of her sentence, her voice had grown more and more wrathful. She turned herself away from the Lieutenant, making a mental note to degrade this mare back to sergeant right after the festival. Just when she placed herself on the soft cushions again, the Lieutenant continued to dig her own grave.
“Which means that we will proceed with the highest security measurements, right? Complete lockdown of all central plazas and identity checks?”
Moon closed her eyes. Calm down, she held a mental conversation with herself, giving her what she deserves is not worth the reconstruction expenses afterwards. Out loud, she only gave her an exhausted and slightly challenging, “yes.”
For a second, her study was entirely silent. Even with the Lieutenant still standing behind her, there was no audible sound. It was so silent she could clearly hear the faint, but scraping sound of metal.
Her horn ignited even before her head turned around. She cast a magical barrier between herself and the pegasus, reaching from floor to ceiling. It immediately stopped every movement of contacting objects. Objects such as the stretched-out hoof of the Lieutenant and the stiletto in its grasp.
Dash grunted, trying to help with the second hoof to move the first one in any possible direction, but she failed completely. The Invelocitas-spell made all efforts futile. Moon’s eyes and horn flashed bright white for a second. The spell ended, and Dash was thrown back to the end of the room. Her armor clanged and marble shattered when Moon’s magic tossed her against the wall.
The Queen of the Night Eternal slowly walked towards the pegasus, who found herself pressed against the wall by a insuperable field of telekinesis. “I must say that I am utterly surprised,” she admitted towards her newest prisoner. “From all these sun-loving traitors, I had expected you to be the very last one to stab me in the back.” Her eyes went to the stiletto, which had been thrust into the wall from the forceful impulse. “Quite literally, in no less.”
“Say,” Moon asked, while she tightened her magic grip around the throat of her victim, “out of all of my guards, why you? What has led you to this disgraceful attempt?”
While the mare struggled against the strangling grip, Moon’s sensitive ears heard something that sounded a lot like: “My subjects.” She loosened the grip, just enough that the other mare could take a breath of air.
“Your subjects? Now, I definitely need to hear that story,” she calmly said, while levitating a cushion from the couch towards her, placing it on the floor and sitting down on it. Her seemingly playful and calm expectation created a tense, dangerous atmosphere in the room. But to her great disappointment, Dash stayed silent.
“I mean, there have been a lot of ponies from which I would have expected it,” Moon tried to decoy her, “but you, Dash? You had proven to be the most reliable of my officers. The most patriotic, devoted, and trustworthy…” Her eyes narrowed. She examined the pegasus for nearly half a minute, not easing her grip one bit, before she was absolutely sure that something was wrong with this whole situation.
Had her Lieutenant been brainwashed? It would explain the lack of decency from earlier. Now then, brainwashing spells were easy to remove. Nopony except her was knowledgeable enough about such complex magic to perform it to an even moderate extent. Her horn began to pulse, and a long, thin spiral of magic left it and wafted through the air towards the head of the immobilized assassin.
When it touched her forehead, Dash gasped for air, while Moon rifled through her mind in deep concentration. Monitoring the dreams of ponies for treacherous thoughts was one thing; doing it while the subject was awake was quite another. Her eyes rambled around below her now-closed eyelids. There was… This mind was so strong, yet such a strange place at the same time, unlike any she had ever visited. There was pain, determination, hate, desperation, and… hunger! Racking, consuming, burning her from the inside–
Moon yelped. She gasped for air and immediately broke contact. Dash fell from the wall onto the floor. Even though Moon’s mind felt like a gelatinous mass, she still had the presence of mind to immediately cast a new immobility spell on Dash.
"It can't be," she mumbled. She turned to one of the bookshelves. A single tome, twice as thick as the books next to it, moved towards her. Sparks of light blue gripped the pages and hastily flipped through them, until she found her suspicion confirmed.
“Unmask yourself,” she demanded.
“I don’t know what you are talking about,” the pegasus angrily responded.
“Drop the disguise, or I’ll force you to,” Moon threatened. “I know what you are, changeling.”
Both opponents exchanged angry glances for several seconds, before Dash was consumed by a blazing column of green fire. Fearing for the safety of the tapestries, Moon though about casting an isolation spell around her prisoner, but before she could finished her thought the flames had already vanished. They left behind a creature worthy of nightmares. It was a being about Moon’s size, with a disfigured body, pierced insectoid wings and a long, jagged horn. Her coat was dark grey, but her chest and back were protected by some kind of iridescent green chitin shell.
“Wow…” Moon said while she marveled at the true face of the intruder. A glance back to the open pages of the book revealed just another circumstance: This was no regular changeling. “You are Queen Chrysalis,” she pointed out.
The changeling queen bared her fangs. “Really? And I thought I was a Zebra all the time.”
“Your sarcasm and lack of respect won’t get you anywhere,” Moon pointed out. “The dungeon, at best. Or the gallows.”
“Well, if that’s the case…”
Chrysalis bowed her head down, her horn aimed right at Moon, who immediately prepared herself to cast a spell. The horn of the changeling queen lit up and an impulse of magic shot towards Moon. However, instead of reaching her, the magic exploded in mid-air and created a cloud of green smoke. Moon coughed and quickly retreated several steps from it, but it had no use. The smoke blocked her view completely and quickly expanded until it had reached every corner of the room within seconds.
Moon’s ears perked up when she heard the sound of crumbling plaster. Like somepony had just pulled something—like a stiletto—out of the wall. She thought about opening the windows, but she was pretty sure she could get rid of the distraction spell in a more sophisticated—and less sensational—way. A thought crossed her mind. She smiled, and with a quick glimmer of her horn, Moon was gone from the visible spectrum.
Spells like this one were why she, out of all the books in the castle’s library, found Starswirl’s works most useful. She didn’t know in what places the old stallion had been sneaking around that he had designed such a spell, but Moon knew that she currently was not only invisible to the naked eye, but also undetectable through magical means.
She made two soft steps to the right, then cast an illusion of herself at the spot where she had stood before. The magic apparition looked just like her, but stood there motionless, in a posture that looked sturdy and ready for action. She tried to listen up, but if the other queen was closing in, she was moving very soft-hooved. To speed the whole thing up, she whispered a short incantation. The smoke around her suddenly got far heavier and began to sink towards the floor.
The head of her illusion peeked up above the smoke first, and just a few second later, that of Chrysalis. The changeling queen was standing a mere two meters in front of the illusion. Moon was surprised by the fact that she had not heard Chrysalis closing in. The changeling queen had lowered her posture, but now jumped up and forward. Moon saw that she held the stiletto in both of her front hooves. With an animalistic battle cry, Chrysalis jumped onto the illusion—and right through it. She stumbled, unable to catch her weight, and slammed unto the floor, but not without ramming the blade into a bunch of violet tiles first.
Moon grumbled over the damage, causing Chrysalis to look up towards the origin of the sound. The changeling queen looked rather dumbfound, a look that made Moon chuckle. She uncloaked herself and banished the last few remnants of the smoke.
For a moment, both looked each other in the eye, but then Chrysalis went in the offensive again. She got herself up faster than Moon would have guessed and took off for another assault. This time she used her wings to propel her forward, but the attempt was doomed to fail from the start. Though they had been just a few steps away from each other, Moon had seen it coming.
A magic barrier rose up from below. It was light blue with cyan sparks in it, and unlike the first one she had cast, this one was solid. It was as thin as a hair, yet as impenetrable as a wall of steel. Chrysalis either saw it too late or decided to try and break through regardless, because she slammed the stiletto right against the energy field. Ripples of magic dances over the sphere, but the force of the impact was too much for the thin blade. Before anything happened to the shield, the blade broke clear off the hilt. With a clanging sound, it landed on the marble tiles below them.
Chrysalis stumbled back. She looked at the hilt in her hoof, then at the energy barrier and eventually at the alicorn behind it. Moon dropped the shield and gave Chrysalis a dirty grin. “My turn,” she declared, before she whispered another incantation. “Gravitas.”
With just this one word, Chrysalis was pulled towards the end of the room by an invisible force. She slid over the tiles and was pushed against the wall again, though the impact was by far not as strong as the first time. However, unlike then, she couldn’t move away from the wall. It felt like some sort of newly-created gravitation well continued to pull at her, rendering her completely unable to move away from the wall, no matter how much she tried.
Chrysalis glared up, her look focused on Moon’s horn, as if she was studying the spell. Moon’s horn was still softly glimmering with magic, since she had to uphold the spell. She’d bet her throne and crown that the changeling queen was thinking about a way to escape. Well, Moon would certainly not...
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Moon’s head snapped towards the door. Realization dawned on her, and for a second, her focus drifted away from the spell. In the blink of an eye, her horn went dim and Chrysalis was free. Since Moon’s attention was no longer on her, Chrysalis took a moment to enjoy the look in front of her. Nightmare Moon, ruler of Equestria and Queen of the Night Eternal, glared towards the door like a filly who had just been caught with the hoof in the cookie jar. The look made Chrysalis smile, and since Moon seemed too perplexed to respond, Chrysalis decided to take the opportunity instead.
Curst! The servant! Moon thought. “No!” her mind already yelled, but to her absolute panic, Chrysalis was faster. She jumped at the chance without any second thoughts.
“Yes, enter!” Chrysalis loudly called out, mimicking Moon’s voice in such crystal clear perfection that the Alicorn could have mistaken it for a magical recording of herself.
In a painful slow motion, the door to the study opened. Entirely perplexed by the situation at hoof, Moon was unable to bring out a single word before it was too late. The door opened and the servant entered. Moon reached out with a hoof towards the door, like the gesture alone could prevent the inevitable.
Raven Inkwell’s look was focused downwards to the beverage her magic carried in front of her. “This time I brewed a Crystal Ceylon with a hint of–” She had looked up and instantaneously froze where she stood. She stared at the scenery in front of her in absolute horror.
Her ruling queen stood in the middle of what amounted to a medium-sized battlefield. The floor, made of countless of tiny, violet and blue tiles, was badly scratched up on a line from the couch to the wall. The wall next to the door displayed a three meter wide crack with the structure of a spider’s web. Black soot reached from the wall up to the ceiling, where the maple boards were burned beyond recognition. Three of the marble sculptures along the wall were completely destroyed. Their dust and splinters covered most of the ground around their former stands. As the last straw on Raven’s back, there was a horrifying creature standing in front of her. Its sharp fangs reminded her of a savage predator, while the rest of it looked like it came right out of Tartarus’ depths.
Following a tense moment of absolute silence, the full porcelain cup slipped out of Raven’s magic grip without her notice and shattered on the study’s floor. Moon feared what was about to come, and she would be proven right.
No servant schooling Raven Inkwell had ever received and no two decades of work experience could hold up her professionalism in the face of this. With a high-pitched cry that left Moon’s ears ringing, Inkwell ran out of the study—followed by a panicked call for the guards.
“No!” Moon reached out with her hoof towards the door, but it was too late. Raven Inkwell had dashed out of the room like her life depended on it, and Moon could hear the sounds of her hooves fade in the distance. Oh, great. Now there we have the state crisis that would be worth disturbing me, she thought.
“Don’t worry,” Chrysalis mocked her in an unbearably insolent tone, “I have this effect on most ponies.”
Moon took a deep breath and resisted the urge to face-hoof. “Do you even know what you have done?” she hissed.
“Ruined a perfectly fine cup of chamomile?” Chrysalis chuckled.
Every muscle in Moon’s body tensed up in anger. However, there was something that made her hesitate to have the guards grab this queen and hang her immediately—besides her wish to have her prime example of a Lieutenant back in one piece.
Chrysalis had mentioned her “subjects”, and since it was clear that she was referring to her changeling drones, Moon had to learn more about this. These changelings could pose a risk to both her personally, as well as Equestria as a whole. Only problem was that she now wouldn’t get a chance to interrogate Chrysalis, since Miss Inkwell had just alarmed every guard in the palace with her panicked cry for help. No, Moon had to find a way to postpone the interrogation. Luckily, she knew just the right spell for that.
“I hope you are in a comfortable position,” Moon fired back, “because you are going to stay like this for the moment.” Before her opponent realized the meaning of these words, Moons magic already shot out from her horn. The petrification spell needed not more than a few seconds to transform Chrysalis her into a light-grey replacement for the zodiac animals that had been shattered. Moon shoved the newest statue closer towards the wall before gathering the fragments and dust of Ursa Major and the others in her magic. Panically looking around, she then reached out for one of the windows and simply tossed the eighteen-thousand-bits-worth of splinters into the evening air.
She heard the harsh clopping of quickly incoming armored hooves. Cursing all the greater forces there were, she threw the tome on extraordinary species aside and slammed the door shut. She calculated whether or not she had the time to cast a complex repair spell on the room, then decided that she hadn’t. Every second counted, and so she instead shot an impulse of transformation magic against the wrecked circle in the wall. The magic stretched out to the burned maple boards and the smashed tiles and overlaid them with a perfect illusion. As long as nopony would touch them, it would work just fine.
Knock! Knock! Knock! Knock! Knock!
“Your Highness, please open up!” a booming voice from the other side of the thick oak door requested.
She turned herself hastily around, looking for a spot that would be most inconspicuous given the situation. Her gaze fell on the red velvet cushion in front of the new changeling statue. Perfect.
“Yes?” she called out towards the door after she had sat herself down and taken a deep breath, bestirred to give the impression of a patron wondering over a modern piece of art instead of a combatant who had only recently turned an assassin into a statue. It might just work, but she hoped nopony would spot her sweaty mane. The quick fight had not stressed her as much as the spontaneous concealing measurements had.
The guards rushed through the door as soon as it was open. A whole team of eight filled the room. They all held their swords and spears ready for action and scanned the room for any possible threats, before their commanding officer followed after them. Behind him, Raven Inkwell cautiously peeked into the room.
“Ma’am, we were informed of an intruder. A vile beast, of big stature and… whatintartarus!” The guard gasped when he spotted the newest addition to Her Majesty’s art collection.
“Yes?” she asked in pure innocence. “Oh, this? It was just delivered by the royal sculpting workshop. Quite true to life, isn’t it?”
Confusion was written all over the guard’s faces.
“But… but it was moving, and it grinned at me, and…” Raven tried to defend herself. Moon felt a hint of guilt for making this mare look like a fool in front of the guards. She thought about an option she had, one she very rarely used, but the situation just demanded for it. She was about to use an apology.
“I am sorry, Miss Inkwell,” she said with her most sincere voice. “I was just moving the statue to its place, so it most likely was a play of light and shadows. I should have informed you since I knew you would return, but this delivery had me a bit… surprised as well.” Her look went towards the remnants of her tea cup on the doorstep. “You have been attending me tirelessly for months. I wouldn't mind if you want to take the rest of the day off and just sent an apprentice to clean this up at the beginning of tomorrow’s shift.”
“I would rather amend my mistake right now, if Your Highness would allow me,” Raven proposed, confusion and shock still written on her face. “The floor could get stains,” she absent-mindedly argued. “Also, I’d rather not have all the shards…”
With just one sweep of Moon’s magic, the shards—and also the small puddle of tea—were moved away from the doorstep and behind one of the marble stands. The long-yeared servant eyed this action with a judgmental glance and a raised eyebrow, but Moon continued to talk the idea out of her head. “Folderol, Miss Inkwell. One of the fillies can clean this up later. Please,” she said, this time addressing everypony in the room, “I’d just like to have some time in private.” Moon had deliberately avoided including “with this statue” in the sentence, since there was no use in making herself look more quirky then they already thought of her.
“If that is Your Highness’ wish, I’ll return at the begin of my next shift,” Raven finally gave in, before she slowly made her way out of the crowded study. When she passed the doorstep, she threw one last glance towards the statue of the changeling, like it was just about to come to life and chase after her.
“I think, since we are no longer required,” the officer of the guard concluded, “we are going to leave Your Highness now.” He made a gesture with his head towards the door, whereupon the eight guard ponies retreated themselves. Only the chief, a middle-aged pegasus guard, stayed behind for a moment.
He eyed the statue again, before he commented, “Isn’t it odd that Miss Inkwell had reported the creature was looking her right in the eyes, though now its head is turned towards Your Highness?”
Moon’s heart pounded so hard she held it possible for it to burst through her chest right then and there. “As I said, it must have been a play of the shadows,” she stated with quivering lips.
“Right, it must have been that,” the guard agreed without any more smart observations, before he left the room as well.
With a creak and a click, the door snapped shut.
Moon closed her eyes and released a very long breath, before she slumped down on her cushion. The adrenaline slowly faded from her system, leaving her completely exhausted. This could have turned out horribly. If rumors were to spread that there was a shape-shifting species among them, her subjects would have panicked over the mere thought. Fearing that there could be more–
Her eyes sprung open when she corrected herself. Of course there were more of them; the right questions were: “How many and where?”
Now Moon began to panic again. She had last felt this threatened when she had come to know that Celestia had raised another alicorn princess. This Mi Amore de Cadenza, however, had proven to be too young to be a threat to her. To keep it that way—and in old tradition—Moon had married her to one of the lowest descendants of the royal unicorn family she could have found. This Prince Blueblood didn’t have any ruling power, and so he was the perfect millstone around her neck if this Mi Amore would ever entertain thoughts of rebellion.
Could this problem be solved in a fashion similar in simplicity? Maybe not with marriage, but with blackmailing instead? She, after all, held the queen of these creatures hostage. Maybe that could be enough to keep them at bay. “Or lead them on a retaliation campaign.” She was terrified by the mere thought.
She remembered something Chrysalis had said. She had mentioned that she had failed her subjects. Maybe they wouldn’t give a damn about the fate of their queen. Celestia’s subjects, after all, had abandoned their loyalty quickly after Moon had taken over. For a thousand years of sole reign, that hadn’t been a very impressive legacy. Or what if Chrysalis had already lost her status before she came here?
Moon released a loud grunt. All this thinking and rambling wouldn’t lead to anything. She looked up to the statue. “Might as well just do it right now.” She stood up and shot a locking spell into the door. Nopony would bolt in again. Next was a sealing enchantment on the entire room. Not a single sound would leave it now. In addition, an illusion bewitchment on the closed windows would mask the other queen’s silhouette. And as a last step, she applied an invisible leash to the queen and magically tied it to a spot right in the middle of the floor. Now nothing and nopony would get in or out of her study.
“Let’s hear what you have to say, troublemaker.” A bunch of sparks left Moon’s horn and headed for the statue’s head, body and limbs. Wherever they hit, a fine layer of stone was blasted off, revealing the dark grey fur and the iridescent chitin again. When they hit the other queen right in the muzzle, the petrification was blown off her entire face, leaving Chrysalis coughing and cursing. As soon as she could turn her head freely again, she snapped towards Nightmare Moon and gave her an angry glare.
“From all the things I thought you would do to me, this was the most humiliating option!” Chrysalis complained. She shook her body to rid herself of the dusty remnants of her prison.
“You should be happy I removed the petrification at all,” Nightmare Moon pointed out. “After all, for what I can tell, you just tried to murder me.”
“You did not really leave me a choice,” Chrysalis mumbled.
“What was that?” Moon asked. She then remembered the remark from earlier. “Does this have to do with your ‘subjects’, as you called them?”
“It has, but please, don’t act like you care. After all, we have been starving for nearly a year, and it doesn’t seem to trouble you at all.”
Nightmare Moon carefully walked around the other mare. “With ‘we’, you mean other changelings as well, I assume?” Chrysalis threw an angry glance at her. It was the first time she dropped her farcical expression and humorous remarks and showed something far more serious. “How many are we talking about? Dozens, Hundreds?” Nightmare Moon continued to question her.
“What are you expecting of me?” Chrysalis wondered with some bewilderment in her voice. “Do you think I would give you our exact numbers?” After Nightmare Moon gave her a very serious look, Chrysalis jokingly added: “Shall I include a record of our hives and our equipment as well, Your Highness?”
Nightmare Moon huffed, then turned around. She walked towards the windows of the study. “Outside of these palace walls, sixteen million ponies work, eat and live. Even if your subjects number in the thousands, how can it be that you all are starving?”
For several moments, the other queen did not respond to her question, but when she did, Nightmare Moon’s heart skipped a beat. “Because of you,” Chrysalis responded, her voice heavy and sad.
“Because… of…” Nightmare Moon turned towards Chrysalis in disbelief. “Impossible!” she said. “Under my rule, Equestria is more wealthy than it ever was! Food production has increased by the factor two. GDP has increased by the factor three. There is no way there is not enough food out there for…”
“We do not really get sated by hayburgers and daffodil muesli, you know?” Chrysalis interrupted her.
With an assumption that made Nightmare Moon shiver, she looked at the long, pointy fangs of the changeling queen. They were about half a hoof long and looked like they could easily pierce even through the thickest skin. The other mare was lean, but she seemed at least athletic enough to tear out the muscles and tendons of somepony’s neck.
“What exactly are you looking at?” Chrysalis asked, before she noticed the look on Nightmare Moon’s face. “Oh, come on. Do you seriously think we are carnivores?”
“I…” Nightmare Moon carefully tried to defend herself, only to be interrupted again.
“You really have no idea at all, do you?” Chrysalis wondered.
Nightmare Moon blinked. She remembered something special about a changeling’s diet… But this was part of her alter ego’s knowledge, something she very rarely accessed. So instead of trying to remember Luna’s knowledge, she reached out to the tome on extraordinary species she had very recently tossed into a corner. Bingo! There, on the second page of the chapter on changelings, it was written in black and white. She skimmed through the text, then paused, before she began to read out loud. “...and though not much of this process is known, studies—just as well as their own social evolution—suggest that there is no other way for a Changeling to feed other than to magically absorb emotions from their surroundings. There seems to be many ways how this can be done, but sadly these were studied rather insufficiently due to the very dangerous nature of this subject…”
Her mind raced around this new knowledge. There was not only another equine species within her borders she had until now not known the slightest thing about, but they also seemed to have a food ingestion process that was entirely unique amongst all species known to her—not just equines. And here she had thought a dragon’s diet was extraordinary.
“So, you feed off emotions?” Nightmare Moon curiously asked.
“Not any emotions. Just the light ones, the ones which contain the most energy. Emotions that were sent out during positive events, may they be life-changing or just everyday situations. Somepony finds a coin on the street? Food for one of us. Somepony falls in love? Food for many of us. A nation-wide event that is supposed to last full twenty-four hours? Food for all of us,” Chrysalis explained. Her head then dropped down. “That, at least, was what we thought. Before we knew of the security measurements. Cordoned plazas? ID checks? What will be next, magic scanners?”
Nightmare Moon kept it quiet. There had indeed been plans to install highly advanced arcane instruments around the major places, for example the plaza around her podium where she would hold her speech.
“The curfew you put in law made things hard for us, but this…” She paused. “It’s the last nail in our coffin. If we can’t get close enough to these events, we can not feed on the emotions that linger in the air. And without feeding… our species will die.”
Moon was hit by a huge wave of... Guilt? It felt strange to her, like something she had known about but never felt before. She had looked Celestia straight in the eyes, had seen the horror in them when she had overpowered her and banished her to the sun. And later that fateful day she had felt the judging looks of guards and loyalists alike when she officially stepped into office. Those looks had meant nothing to her.
Unlike that day, however, there now were no judging looks from Chrysalis. The changeling queen had turned away, but it seemed like Moon did not need any looks that told her how wrong she was. She felt guilty—and the more she thought of it, the more it became clear that this had good reason. In her ignorance, she had majorly screwed up. She always vindicated her government takeover with the fact that Equestria’s economy was booming, that ponies were wealthy and happy under her rule. Especially in the first few weeks she had found herself under the unvoiced pressure that she had to prove that her rule was not just different from Celestia’s, but better. She had quickly taught herself the how and later used her success in that matter as a propaganda tool. However, what she had learned in the last few minutes now challenged these justifications.
Just… there was one thing that came up in her mind, and it surprised her how simple it seemed. “Why have you never approached me before? Through more diplomatic channels, I mean.”
Chrysalis’ look seemed to directly challenge her soundness of mind. “Oh, sure,” she said. There it was again, this insolently scoffing and taunting voice. “We, a secret society of half-coleopterals, who have been shunned and persecuted by ponies for centuries, walk right up to you, a ruler who is known to banish her enemies into the sun? Can’t see how that could possibly go wrong.”
“It’s… not like that,” Moon argued. She could not tell what was weaker; her argument or her voice. Get yourself together, she mentally reproached herself. “First of all, I only banished one pony in the sun, and that was Celestia. Her Captain of the Guard I exiled, just as I did with the most persistent loyalists,” she explained. “Next, there is nothing anypony has to fear if they approach me on friendly terms. I restored our diplomatic relations with the Yaks, and trust me, they are way more… difficult than you think I am. So any doubts you were unfounded.”
Chrysalis eyed her carefully, but then huffed. “It’s sure nice to know afterwards that you only imply to be a merciless tyrant. Hindsight’s twenty-twenty, they say, right?”
“That is not what I intend to imply,” Moon fought back.
“Well, it is what the ponies think of you, and it does not seem like you are contesting that image.”
“Ouch,” Moon thought. It was written to her face: that one had hit home.
“Also,” Chrysalis quietly added, “it looks like I will soon face the charges of high treason and attempted murder. There is not much I’m looking forward to, so why should I care for your image problems?”
Moon blinked. During this short but extremely informative talk, she had almost forgotten that only minutes ago this queen had tried to assassinate her. Though it had been a laughable attempt, the punishment for treason was death. Right now, Moon had two options: either she’d give Chrysalis a public trial, or she could execute her right here and now in secret. However, none of these options sounded agreeable. If she would put Chrysalis before the court, the existence of the changelings would come to light, and Equestria would face a new crisis. Great mistrust amongst the ponies would be the result—and probably millions of bits of expenses in the attempt to construct changeling detectors or something alike. Also, she was absolutely sure the loyalists would find a way to propagandize these events.
If she would court-martial Chrysalis, she would have peace in the short run, but in the long run face the problem of an entire species swearing vendetta. Tartarus no! she thought. There must be a way out of this. A law, a historical case, a precedent… Her eyes lit up. That’s it!
“Say, are you familiar with the case of Prince Akhalʼ ad-Dīn of Saddle Arabia?” she asked. She saw how surprised Chrysalis was. “I take that as a ‘No’. He is better known as the ‘Prince of Thieves’.”
“Isn’t that an old fillies’ story?” Chrysalis wondered.
“More or less,” Moon admitted. “But like most tales, it has a grain of truth to it. It takes place during the Saddle Arabian state reformation. Akhalʼ ad-Dīn was a pauper, but a smart pauper. He sneaked into the palace of the King and tried to steal from the pantry. However, he was caught and brought before the King, who demanded an explanation.” She paused a moment. “You know, this played in a time when it was common law in such cases to chop off a pony’s right hoof. Ad-Dīn, however, explained that he was hungry and poor, and the King felt so sorry for him that he pardoned him. He then decreed the former, quite bloody laws against stealing food null and void. This new way of seeing some needs as vital and therefore inviolable was what then started Saddle Arabia’s reformation into the more progressive nation we nowadays know.”
Chrysalis thought about this for a moment, until she realized the deeper meaning. “Wait, do you want to say…”
“What I want to say,” Moon interrupted her, before the queen could come up with her own interpretation, “is that we might take the keynote of this as an example—to make an exception for some… felonies that might have been committed in the past hour or so.”
Just when Chrysalis’ expression lit up—to the point where Moon was not sure if the other queen was not about to jump forth and hug her—she coughed. “Though, as I previously said, the King declared the former laws null and void, but he did, however, issue a few new ones. Ever since, the punishment for food theft in Saddle Arabia is…” she made a pause and, with an inner smile, watched Chrysalis tense up, “...community service.”
Chrysalis audibly exhaled. Moon chuckled. She sent out a small ray of magic to dissipate the invisible leash with a quiet crackle. “Follow me,” she ordered. With her magic, Moon pulled another lounge chair to a spot next to her own couch. With a cryptic smile, she sat down and gestured Chrysalis to do so as well. At first, the changeling queen was touching her neck in bewilderment, wondering when Moon had applied that leash, but then she sat herself down.
“So… what exactly are you thinking about?” Chrysalis broke the silence.
“I would say that I have to catch up on a few things,” Moon proposed. She scrutinized Chrysalis for a moment. “You can transform into… anypony?” A nod. “Anything?”
“Depends on the size,” Chrysalis explained. “I can not transform into a grain of sand or a full-grown dragon, but into everything within reasonable limits.”
Moon rested her head on her hoof. “So, any given species?” Another nod. “Any gender?”
There was a flash of red underneath her dark fur. Chrysalis coughed, but then nodded.
Moon smiled, but quickly became serious again. “For how long have you been doing this?”
“Pretty much since day one,” Chrysalis responded.
Moon raised an eyebrow. “And in years, that makes…”
Chrysalis huffed. “Hey, you don’t ask a mare for her age.”
Moon threw her a serious look, but then leaned herself against the backrest of her couch. She was willing to let Chrysalis keep some secrets. “Alright. Thirsty?”
Chrysalis blinked. “… What?”
“I asked if you were thirsty,” Moon chuckled. “Looks like I am your host, so I might as well behave like one. Therefore; are you thirsty?”
Now it was Chrysalis who chuckled. “Do you want to call Miss Inkwell again? I bet I could…”
Moon tilted her head. “Don’t get carried away. If you scare my servant into invalidity retirement, I’m sure I can find an apron in your size.” Her horn lit up. “But I wasn’t thinking of tea, anyway.” There was a rustle in a nearby shelf. Several books were moved aside by a magic aura. From behind them, a dark red bottle and two wine glasses were carried forth. While she opened the bottle and the liquid met fresh air for the first time in over a decade, she began to rant. “Celestia might have been many things—a fool, a weakling—but whatever you say against her, she had an excellent taste for spirits.”
This seemed to surprise Chrysalis. “Really? I had not thought of her as a drunkard.”
“Oh, no no no,” Moon corrected. “It seems like Celestia very rarely made use of her inventories. Mostly for foreign visitors, I guess. But the quality of what I found in the basement is extraordinary. Take this one, for example: a red wine from the Griffon Kingdom, fourteen years old and tangy, yet still sweet as a daisy. This bottle alone must be worth a fortune—and they gave her an entire crate of them.”
Moon poured the wine into the glasses. Chrysalis levitated hers closer and took in a breath. She smiled, but just for a moment. “Something’s wrong?” Moon asked.
Chrysalis looked down. “I’m sitting here and enjoying your wine, while my people will go to bed hungry again. It feels wrong.”
Moon nodded. “Yes, I can understand that. But there are many more questions I want answered. Besides, it will be the last time your people will feel hunger. Tomorrow morning, when the festivities start, I will organize passports. Try to disguise as earth ponies from one of the further away settlements; that way no-one will even bother talking to you.”
Chrysalis raised an eyebrow. Moon, however, chuckled. “We are in Canterlot, remember? The unicorns here would not look an earth pony in the eye if they would be paid for it. Trust me, this will do the job.”
“If you say so… then… thank you. Thank you very much.”
“A toast.” Moon lifted her glass up. “To new friends.”
“To new friends,” Chrysalis repeated. The glasses produced a soft, high ping when they touched.
Moon took the first sip in, just a small one, so the flavour could expand. Magnificent, she thought. She cleared her throat. “What do you think, how many passports will you need? A dozen? A hundred? You still haven’t mentioned your numbers, but I think now would be the time.”
Chrysalis looked up from her glass, then swallowed down. She held her hoof in front of her mouth in a near childish manner and mumbled something into her fetlock.
“Pardon?”
“Few hm-mm -ds,” Chrysalis mumbled under her breath again. When Moon raised an eyebrow, she finally increased the volume. “A… few... Thousands? Like, three… and a half?”
Moon’s eyes grew wide. “Three and a half thousand?” When Chrysalis began to attentively examine the ceiling, Moon let her head sink onto a cushion. Now it was she who inaudibly mumbled something. However, there was one more thought that came back from earlier. “Oh, Chrysalis?” she asked with a dangerously sweet voice, “I’ve got one more question.”
Chrysalis, who had turned her attention back to her host, surmised nothing good behind that intonation. “Yes?” she carefully responded.
“Where exactly is Lieutenant Dash?”
Chrysalis paused for a second, as if she had to think of who Moon was referring to. “Ah, you mean this overly aggressive, rainbow-maned and slightly tomboyish...” Moon nodded. “Well…” Chrysalis scratched the side of her neck. “Let’s put it like this: How familiar are you with the cocooning process?”
In the corridors of the palace, outside in the castle’s gardens, and even on Canterlot’s market square, Nightmare Moon could be heard loud and clear, as her canterlot voice cried out in frustration. “CHRYSALIIIS!”
