"Many years ago," Twilight said, waving her hoof in front of the projector's glow, "the Changeling Hive and the Kirin Empire were incredibly well-connected. As you can see, the two nations shared their land, despite being located on opposite ends of Equestria in the modern day.”
Twilight paused her lecture, then glanced over at her assistant, who was already nodding off. His little claw was still resting on the projector's remote.
"Spike," she hissed.
The dragon did not react.
Twilight flashed her audience a nervous smile, then looked back at the lounging dragon. "Spike!"
He snorted awake. "Huh?!"
"The slide!"
"Oh!" Spike clicked the button.
The projector rattled as it changed slides. The next image was a blurry scan of an ancient document. The central image on the document was that of a flaming kirin--or, rather, a nirik--facing a Changeling. The Changeling's mouth hung open, sucking away the flames.
"In ancient times, the Changelings made every effort to cohabitate with other creatures," Twilight continued. "However, their hunger for love made it difficult to live in peace with ponies. The Kirin, on the other hoof, had a nearly limitless supply of food for the Changelings in the form of anger."
Twilight glanced at Spike, who clicked to the next slide. This one had some complex chemical formulas and magical sigils on it.
"While not as nutritious as love, anger provided enough sustenance for the Changelings to survive." Twilight pointed to a long, chain-like chemical compound. "Think of anger as the junk food of emotions."
Twilight giggled to herself. From the audience, one Changeling burst into raucous laughter. The rest were silent.
Twilight cleared her throat. "Anyway. This obviously could not sustain the Changeling Hive, and eventually the choice was made to break off from the Kirin and pursue more… aggressive forms of survival." Twilight said this quickly, making an effort to push past the ugly parts of Changeling history. "Since then, the Changelings and the Kirin have been completely separated, and much of their conjoined history has been lost."
Spike changed the slide again. Now, over Twilight's head, was the image of a modern-day Changeling and Kirin shaking hooves.
Twilight puffed out her chest and did her best to look regal and trustworthy. "As part of my continuing mission of friendship, I would like to rekindle the union of the Kirin and the Changelings. Obviously, your relationship will be very different than it was back then…" Twilight paused here, allowing her audience to reflect. "But I believe that whatever new friendships you build will be informed by the strength of your previous alliance."
Spike clicked off the projector. The lights over the rest of the room hummed back to life, to the displeasure of the audience.
"Now. Rainshine and Thorax have each appointed friendship ambassadors to help jumpstart communication," Twilight explained. She trotted over to her desk and retrieved two envelopes. "Unfortunately, they couldn't be here to announce their choices themselves."
"Oh, like we don't know who's gonna get it," commented Fern Flare, who punched Autumn Blaze playfully on the shoulder.
Autumn chuckled quietly and shushed her friend.
Twilight smiled to herself. "Yes, well. Let's just wait and see, okay?"
The room fell silent, Changelings and Kirin alike watching with bated breath. Twilight gently tore away the top of the first envelope with her magic. She pulled out the paper inside, reading over the brief message.
She smiled. "The Kirin Ambassador to the Changelings will be Autumn Blaze! Congratulations!"
The Kirin side of the room broke into loud cheering and applause, all while Autumn Blaze blushed away at the center of it.
Twilight giggled with pride as she watched Autumn be congratulated by her village. As she did, she tore the top off the next envelope.
"Alright, everycreature!" she called. "Settle down, please!"
The Kirin did as instructed, if slowly, and finally settled into silence.
But Twilight didn't notice. She was staring down at Thorax's note with furrowed brows and a look of shock and horror in her eyes, her eyes desperately scanning it over and over, hoping to find something different.
A Changeling from the crowd cleared their throat. "Um, princess? What does it say?"
"Yeah, is everything okay?" Autumn asked, cocking her head to one side.
Twilight's mouth was open, silently mouthing along with the words on the page. She showed no sign of being heard by the crowd at all.
“Thorax picked Pharynx, right?” Another Changeling’s voice piped up from the crowd.
The rest of the Changelings murmured in agreement, Pharynx himself looking at Twilight in some sort of defeat.
Twilight, at last, looked up from the paper. “Um-- I need to speak with Thorax. I’m sure it’s a mistake, is all! A joke!” She looked at Spike. “Thorax likes jokes, right?”
Spike snatched the paper from Twilight’s magical grip. “What kinda joke, exactly?”
“Spike, wait--”
“Queen Chrysalis?!” Spike read aloud for the whole room to hear.
The audience burst into a frenzy almost immediately, drowning out any wise words Twilight may have had.
But, of course, she had none.
Because this was Queen Chrysalis.
Queen Chrysalis, a violent, belligerent Changeling who, despite her promise to reform, had done little other than mope about in a cave for the past few years. Who had not metamorphosed like the others. Who still had not a single friend.
Queen Chrysalis, who had, on multiple occasions, attempted murder.
Queen Chrysalis, who was widely hated and feared by all creatures across Equestria.
There was absolutely no way Twilight would allow this to happen.
“Y’know, Twilight, at this point I’ve heard quite a bit about this…” Autumn looked to the vaulted ceiling of the throne room, as if expecting the answer to return with her echo. “Uh. ‘Chrysalis’ character. I’m not sure she’s right for this particular mission.”
Twilight sighed. “Normally, I would agree with you,” she muttered. “But Thorax seems to have his own ideas about friendship ambassadors.”
Autumn snorted in laughter. “Yeah, but aren’t you, like… princess of all that? Can’t you just disagree?”
“I would, but…” Twilight paused, glancing up at the stained glass window with her image. “Well, I’m still learning, too. I may be the princess of friendship, but Thorax is the expert on Changeling reformation. If he thinks this is the way to do it, I’m inclined to trust him.”
Autumn Blaze was silent. “Does that mean I have to trust him, too?”
Twilight opened her mouth to respond, but didn’t manage to get out a peep before the doors of the throne room flew open, slamming against the wall with great force. The two creatures whipped around to see who had arrived. Of course, the two of them already had a confident guess.
None other than Chrysalis herself stood before them, still thoroughly swiss-cheesed and dull-looking. This didn’t seem to worry her, however, as she held her head high and marched into the throne room with great purpose and superiority.
Twilight rolled her eyes. “Chrysalis. Good to see you.”
The expected response would have been a tant of some sort. Perhaps something clever about how, when Chrysalis had been here last, she had nearly taken Canterlot for herself.
“Princess,” she said, carefully and politely. She even threw in a little nod.
Twilight’s eyes narrowed. She did not respond, instead waiting patiently to make her next move.
Autumn cocked her head and looked up at the enormous Changeling. As a kirin, she was something of an expert in reading silent faces, and her eyes scanned every nook and cranny of Chrysalis’ expression. Unfortunately, she came up empty.
Chrysalis peered down at Autumn Blaze. As a Changeling, she had the extrasensory ability to read emotion from any creature, and she zeroed in on the tiny kirin’s heartbeat and scent. All she managed to find, however, was confusion.
“Uh, hi there!” Autumn piped up, smiling nervously. She held out her hoof to be shook. “I’m Autumn Blaze, the kirin ambassador to the Changelings. You’re Chrysalis, right?”
Chrysalis blinked slowly and set her jaw. She seemed to be actively suppressing the desire to speak down to her new partner. “That’s correct.”
Autumn stood, frozen, her hoof extended in greeting. Chrysalis merely stared at it.
Autumn chuckled good-naturedly. “Can I call you Chrys?”
“No.”
“‘Kay,” Autumn said quickly, dropping her hoof back to the floor and averting her gaze.
Twilight was looking quickly back and forth between the friendship ambassadors, unsure what could be done to facilitate a relationship. Even a professional one. “Uh… why don’t we move into the conference hall and discuss your duties?”
Autumn sniggered.
Chrysalis sighed aloud.
Twilight blinked. “Is that a yes?”
“Sure thing, Twi,” Autumn agreed, skittering to the princess’s side.
Chrysalis grumbled something to herself, but followed behind the two smaller creatures as they exited the throne room.
There was something strange about her demeanor. For a fallen tyrant queen she was very… subdued. Willing to listen and follow.
Autumn, despite the stories she’d heard, knew very little about Chrysalis personally. She decided not to say anything about her behavior.
Twilight figured that, if Chrysalis was planning something, she would have a fine chance of stopping it when it was obvious to her, and with much less frustration. Still, though, she trotted forward with an urgency that was otherwise unfounded.
The trio turned a corner and found themselves facing another large set of double doors. Twilight pushed through them with ease.
The conference hall was stately, but not anywhere near as ornate and decorative as the other parts of the palace. Voices did not echo in here, and sunlight was not filtered through stained glass. In fact, the room was rather like those found in large office buildings, with the exception of its royalty-themed color scheme.
A long table ran down the center of the room. The end closest to the doors was empty, but the back end held a few cardboard boxes filled with paper.
Autumn paused just inside and looked around the room. “There’s about two dozen chairs in here, princess. Couldn’t we have just sat outside?”
“This is the official venue,” Twilight explained, pulling a chair out for Autumn. “Just because I happen to know the two of you doesn’t mean we should break tradition!”
“Ugh,” Chrysalis commented with a click of her serpentine tongue. “Don’t you know every creature in Equestria by now?”
Twilight pursed her lips, but said nothing.
She pulled out a chair for Chrysalis to sit in. The Changeling looked Twilight in the eye and pulled a different chair out from the table, flopping down into it unceremoniously.
Steam was practically rising from Twilight’s ears as she found her own seat. “Alright. Let’s do this quickly so we can all get to work.”
“Sounds good, princess,” Autumn agreed.
Chrysalis leaned back in her chair and folded her forelegs over her chest.
Twilight ground her teeth together, but managed to turn her attention to the file folder in front of her. “There are three major elements of a successful diplomatic relationship between your two nations,” Twilight began, her lecture voice already making an appearance. “The first is trade. The two of you should organize the exchange of some basic domestic product, as well as consider the physical trade route between the Changeling Hive and the Peaks of Peril.”
“Aw, gee, Twilight-- I dunno if the Kirin have any, uh…” Autumn trailed off, tapping her lips with one cloven hoof. “What’s the fancy word for crap you sell to other creatures?”
“Exports?” Chrysalis suggested, her tone saturated by boredom. “I very much doubt the Kirin are exporting anything the Changelings would want.”
Autumn leveled her gaze at Chrysalis. She could feel a little spark of anger starting in her chest. “Well, who says the Changelings have anything we want? We were self-sufficient for hundreds of years.”
“As were the Changelings,” Chrysalis commented. Which wasn’t true, of course, as the history of love-fueled invasions would prove.
No one thought it wise to point this out, however.
Twilight sighed. “The point isn’t to just maintain,” she explained. “Hopefully, your nations will become more than the sum of their parts through this partnership. That’s what friendship is all about: being stronger together!”
Chrysalis made a soft sound of disgust. Autumn shot a glance at the Changeling, rather than try to defend Twilight’s point.
“Anyway,” Twilight continued insistently, turning the page of her folder. “The second prong is communication. We want your two nations to have open and direct lines of communication between leaders, so that you can stay informed on each others’ major developments. This shouldn’t be too hard, since--”
“Why would we ever need to know those sorts of things?” Chrysalis asked.
Twilight paused. She seemed taken aback by the question itself. “Um. Well, assume something happened in the Kirin Empire and they required aid. Then--”
“Then they would ask for it,” Chrysalis said.
Twilight looked down at her paper, as if hoping for back-up. “Th-that’s true, but we’d really like it to be a habit. Open and habitual communication means that opportunities for collaboration are made more obvious and more public,” she explained. “We want all of the Changelings and all of the Kirin to feel like a united group. Which brings me to point--”
“That’s so sweet!” Autumn exclaimed, beaming. “I’d love to get to know some Changelings, I’ll bet they have great theatre productions. What with all the shape-shifting. Ooh, and great drag!”
Twilight’s eye twitched slightly as she looked at Autumn. Chrysalis stifled a chuckle.
“To point three,” Twilight continued, “which is social development.”
“Oh!” Autumn sat up straighter. “Like the plays!”
“Changelings don’t have ‘plays’,” Chrysalis commented spitefully.
Twilight looked at her. “Yes, they do. Thorax invited me to one just a month ago.”
Chrysalis’ tongue flicked out between her teeth. “Well, they did not have plays when I was queen!”
“Yes,” Twilight agreed, trying desperately to stay calm, “but you aren’t the queen anymore, Chrysalis. You’re an ambassador, and, frankly, you’re lucky to even have that!”
Chrysalis shot up from her chair, fluttering her wings. “Ex-cuse me?!”
While normally the display would have been quite threatening, it only served to prove that Chrysalis had no plan. She was attempting to be subservient because she knew a failure to do so would land her frozen in stone for a few thousand years.
Twilight just rolled her eyes. “Please sit down.”
Chrysalis sat back down.
“It’s your responsibility to establish and maintain the relationship between the Changeling Hive and the Kirin Empire,” Twilight said. “Both of you. My three pillars of diplomatic relations are just guidelines-- you two should feel free to improvise, and do what feels most appropriate. I’m sure you both have the best interests of your nations at heart.”
Autumn glanced at Chrysalis. “Well, I know I do.”
“As do I,” Chrysalis agreed.
Twilight smiled. “Great! Then I turn it over to the two of you.” She pushed the file folder across the table towards the ambassadors. “I’ve included some helpful references in here to get you started, as well as in those boxes at that back of the table. If you need any help… Ask Rain Shine and Thorax. Please.”
Autumn reached for the file folder, but Chrysalis snatched it away.
Off to a great start.
Twilight said nothing. Judging by the 'disappointed, but not surprised' look in her eyes, she knew that speaking might only make the situation worse.
The Kirin and the Changeling wrestled over the file folder for a while, until Autumn finally got the upper hoof with a good, hard yank.
"Ha!" she said triumphantly.
Chrysalis growled.
Twilight let out a strained and weary sigh. "Normally, I would stick around to supervise something like this, but--"
"You don't trust us to handle it alone?" Chrysalis suggested, her tongue slipping over her fangs menacingly. "Please. I could do this in my sleep."
Twilight smiled. It was the smile of a parent who was desperate for support, yet had none. "Great. I'll leave you two alone to hash out a plan, then. Sound good?"
"Uh, actually-"
"Fine," Chrysalis spat, belaying Autumn's protestations.
"Perfect!" Twilight got to her hooves. "I'll be back in a few hours. Work hard!"
The two creatures watched silently as Twilight Sparkle left the room, her pace suspiciously quick. The double doors clicked shut behind her.
“If we scooch the road over this way just a few meters,” Autumn argued, redrawing the line in the sand with her hoof, “then our couriers will get to see this really great rock formation near the Southern Descent, which would make the trip just so much better.”
Chrysalis ground her teeth. “I don’t care what the trip looks like,” she said, pounding her hoof on the edge of the sandbox. “I want it to be short and efficient. This is the shortest possible path.”
She pulled her own massive, carapace-covered hoof through the sand, creating a line that was almost aggressively straight. For the earthbound Kirin, this route would offer nothing of interest for miles.
“Mm-hm, mm-hm…” Autumn tapped her lips with her hoof, feigning concentration. “But, y’know, it’s really not fair to compare because-- well, because Changelings can fly. They can do the route in a quarter of the time, so of course they don’t care about the scenery. And they definitely won’t care about a teeny-tiny detour.”
“Haven’t you ever heard the phrase ‘as the Changeling flies’?” Chrysalis asked.
Autumn looked up from their diorama. “Uh… no.”
Chrysalis growled to herself. “Well, my Changelings prefer a straight route to some… some scenery.”
Autumn glared at Chrysalis. That spark of anger danced about her heart. “First of all, they’re not really your Changelings, are they?” she said. “And, secondly, the Kirin prefer some nice scenery to a straight route.”
Chrysalis peered down into the sandbox, analyzing the poorly-constructed version of the desert separating the Changeling Hive (an old paper wasp next) and the Peaks of Peril (three party hats). She poked at the small pebble representing the rock formation Autumn was so keen on.
“What makes this rock so great?” Chrysalis asked.
Autumn seemed for a moment as if she were about to shoot back with something scathing, but she merely closed her eyes and tilted her head back. The little shadow of a smile crossed her face as she recalled the rock formation.
“Well, the rock itself used to be solid, the result of an ancient tectonic event,” she explained, almost wistfully. Her voice had this deep, soothing quality that was strangely comforting, even to Chrysalis. “But, over thousands of years, nothing but the desert wind has carved it into a smooth and delicate shape. In the right light, and from the right angle, it looks a bit like a blooming flower. It just always reminds me about how, no matter how broken or angry we may seem, the winds of change can soften it all.”
Chrysalis was quiet. She looked at Autumn with her head cocked to one side, wondering quietly how such an immature chatterbox could be so profound. She could almost feel the harshness of the desert winds, the way they howled over the surface of the rock--
“Which is why it would be really nice for the couriers to see while they walk!” Autumn announced happily. She reached down to redraw the line again, this time winding it even closer to the rock formation. “Right? And, hey, I bet the Changelings would like it, too! Change is kinda your guys’ thing, isn’t it?”
Chrysalis growled aloud this time. “Trade is about efficiency. Efficiency and profit. How is the Hive meant to profit from scenery?”
Autumn threw her head back and let out a sound of great displeasure. “Why are you being so stubborn! If your Changelings are that broken up about the scenery, then they can just fly straight anyway! Who cares!”
“I do!” Chrysalis argued. “Why should my Changelings have to bend to the will of the Kirin?”
“They’re not your Changelings, Chrys!”
“My name is Chrysalis, you-- you--” Chrysalis could not find the word she wanted, which was probably for the best.
Nevertheless, that spark of anger caught and began to smolder in Autumn’s chest. No flames yet, thank goodness… but they weren’t far away.
Surely Chrysalis could smell the change, as evidenced by the sudden contraction of her pupils and the motion of her tongue over her teeth.
Autumn sighed and flopped sideways onto the floor. After rolling onto her back, she stared up at the ceiling blankly, focusing all of her energy on the smoldering feeling in her chest. Breathe in, hold it, let it out slow. Breathe in…
Chrysalis' hunger faded as she watched the Kirin breathing softly on the floor. “What are you doing?” she asked. She sounded… well, genuinely concerned. Or, at the very least, genuinely curious.
Autumn rolled her head to the side to look at Chrysalis. “I’m trying not to burst into flames, dude.”
“Don’t call me that.”
Ugh, she is just so--
Breathe in, hold it, let it out slow.
Your thoughts are merely passing clouds. They do not affect you. Just watch them go by.
“How?” Chrysalis asked.
“Hm?”
“How are you…” she trailed off, but gestured vaguely to Autumn’s supine form. “What are you doing?”
Autumn sighed. “I am breathing slowly and trying not to let my anger take control,” she explained. “If I let it take control, I burst into flames. As I mentioned.”
Chrysalis nodded slowly. Her expression was cold and calculating, as if thinking of ways to use this knowledge to her advantage. “Interesting.”
“Wanna try?” Autumn offered.
Chrysalis seemed taken aback. “Why should I?”
Autumn snickered. “‘Cause it’s good for you? It’s good for any creature. You don’t have to be Kirin to meditate.”
Chrysalis said nothing, seeming to consider Autumn’s offer. Autumn watched her face carefully, and caught a glimpse of something she did not recognize. Perhaps embarrassment.
After thinking it over, Chrysalis huffed lightly to herself. “We have work to do. Quit lazing about.”
Autumn sighed. Despite Chrysalis’ inability to be at all personable, the smolder had been put out, and so the Kirin sat up. “Let’s talk about something else, okay? We’ll go back to the trade road in a bit.”
“What else is there to discuss?” Chrysalis asked.
Autumn gave her a look. “Uh… maybe what the couriers will be carrying along the trade road?”
Chrysalis nodded. “Yes. What will your Kirin be supplying to my Changelings?”
“They’re not my Kirin, they’re just Kirin,” Autumn corrected exasperatedly. “And… I dunno. We make all sorts of stuff. How about pottery?”
Chrysalis laughed, a sharp and wicked sound. “I don’t think so. My--” she paused, and cleared her throat. “That is, the Changelings have no need for decorative clay sculptures.”
Autumn reached for the long-abandoned file folder Twilight had supplied them with. “First of all, according to Twilight’s guide, the Changelings are looking to expand their arts collections, so they would love our sculptures,” she corrected with a smirk. “And, second, not all pottery is decorative! We can make bowls and plates and--”
“I don’t think so,” Chrysalis said.
“Fine.” Autumn relented. “How about tea? The Kirin grow their own special tea, it’s--”
“Ha!” she laughed again. “The Changelings would never drink tea.”
“Anycreature can drink tea,” Autumn argued.
“Not the Changelings,” Chrysalis said, holding her armored snout high.
“Fine!” Autumn slammed the file folder shut, which didn’t feel as satisfying as she had hoped. “If the Changelings are so great, what are they gonna bring to us, huh?”
Chrysalis smiled in superiority. “Honey.”
“Honey?”
“Yes, honey,” Chrysalis repeated. “The Changelings produce a high-quality medicinal honey. Perhaps they would be open to an exclusive trade deal with the Kirin.”
“We make our own honey here,” Autumn said. “And our own medicinal brews. Plus, wouldn’t honey be really hard to transport that far? It’s crazy heavy, you’d need wagons and a team of--”
“Fine.” Chrysalis didn’t seem to have a further rebuttal. She gazed back down into the sandbox, eyeing the Peaks of Party Hats with what looked like suspicion. Autumn tried to watch her face for any sign of emotion or thought, but still seemed to be coming up empty. How did she do that?
“The only other product the Changelings produce is silk,” Chrysalis admitted. “Waste.”
“Silk?” Autumn repeated, a twinge of hope creeping into her voice.
There seemed to be bit signs flashing in Chrysalis' own eyes. "Yes," she mused. "And?"
“You’re saying Changelings themselves actually produce silk?" Autumn asked. Her tail flicked in excitement. “That’s-- that’s-- I mean, the only other way to get workable silk is from really rare breeds of silkworm, which aren’t exactly trainable, if you know what I mean. But Changelings-- they can make silk thread?!”
Chrysalis seemed stunned by the excitement in Autumn’s voice. She cleared her throat. “Yes. Is that something the Kirin would be interested in purchasing?”
“Are you kidding me?!” Autumn bounced in place. “Ohmigosh, we would love to! The Kirin have been weaving silk for thousands of years! We could trade back the finished fabric!”
Chrysalis scoffed. “And, what? My Changelings are simply meant to trust that they will receive the finished fabric at a later date?”
“Uh… yes?”
“Absolutely not,” Chrysalis said. “You will pay us for silk thread, and, if he so desires, Thorax will purchase the finished fabric.” She turned her cheek to Autumn Blaze, figuring that this would shut down her cutesy ideas.
Autumn shrugged. “Alright, whatever.”
Chrysalis whipped her head back to look at Autumn Blaze, though remained silent. Autumn could almost see the gears of her mind churning, trying desperately to find some way to be dissatisfied or offended by this result. Unfortunately for Chrysalis, not even she could make that sound like a ripoff.
“Fine,” she agreed, tossing her mane over one shoulder dramatically. “We accept your trade deal.”
“Oh, yay!” Autumn clapped her front hooves together with joy. “How cool is that, Chryssy? Just like in ancient times, our nations can have a symbiotic--”
“Not so fast!” Chrysalis suddenly spat, holding up one hoof. “If you’re profiting off the Changelings, then the Changelings get a straight courier path.” Chrysalis redrew the line in the sand with unneeded drama and anger.
Autumn could only stare blankly at the Changeling before her, wondering idly what force in Equestria could possibly shake her from her ridiculous goals.
“What exactly are you planning, Chrysalis?” Autumn asked, leaning across the table and peering almost directly into the Changeling’s eye. “Hm?”
Chrysalis forced the Kirin away with one hoof. “Nothing! I simply believe that this is the better option,” she said plainly, holding up her paper once more. “What are you planning?”
“Absolutely nothing!” Autumn spat back. “It’s just-- how could you possibly think that design is better? It’s terrible!”
Chrysalis frowned, and examined her paper once more. On it was a sample letterhead, intended for internal communication. Chrysalis had worked up an image built of long, unstable triangles in dark greys, sickly greens, and putrid yellows. Although it was in a sunburst shape, nothing about it was warm or comforting in the slightest.
“I like it," Chrysalis said softly.
“No creature could like that!” Autumn exclaimed, waving her cloven hoof wildly in the air. “It’s all dark and pointy and jagged and full of holes and--”
Chrysalis cleared her throat, and raised one slim eyebrow.
Autumn sat back down in her chair. “Uh. What I meant to say was… well, that’s just not representative of the Changeling Hive at all!” Autumn explained, taking the paper from Chrysalis. “The Changelings aren’t dark and evil clones anymore, they’re all sparkly and shiny and stuff! Shouldn’t the letterhead symbolize the great blossoming forth of the Changeling within? Shouldn’t it be colorful and-- and have some pizzazz? Like maybe that shimmery top coat that makes it all glossy and rainbow-y in the sun? Ooh! And--”
Chrysalis faked a gagging sound, which put a hitch in Autumn’s giddyup. “You mean, you want it to look more like yours?”
Autumn blushed. “Well… yeah. I think mine’s pretty good!” She held up her own paper and beamed.
Autumn's design had been realized in colored pencil, as opposed to Chrysalis' crayon. It featured a Kirin-esque horn emerging from a nest of curly mane hair. Behind the horn was the curve of a rainbow.
“See, we could coat this in some of that metallic glossy stuff to make it all shimmery," Autumn rambled. "And the way it’s all surrounded by the fluffy mane-- now, that’s graphic design for ya. Very classy.”
“Your design doesn’t represent the Changelings, either!” Chrysalis complained.
“Ah-ha!” Autumn Blaze pointed at Chrysalis dramatically. “So you admit your design is meaningless!”
Chrysalis growled and crumpled up her paper, tossing it over her shoulder. “It doesn’t matter! It still looks better than yours!”
“Oh, it so did not!”
“It did!” Chrysalis insisted, pounding her hoof on the table.
“Did not!” Autumn shouted back. Her heart was smoldering, but she didn’t care or notice. “It was an ugly mess!”
“It wasn’t!” Chrysalis argued, her own eyes sparkling with madness. Autumn could have sworn she saw a drop of saliva roll out of the corner of Chrysalis’ mouth and down her chin.
“It was!” Autumn yelled.
Blue flames exploded to life around her neck, fluttering at the tips of her eyelashes. Her eyes went a milky white, erasing all emotion from her gaze.
Chrysalis did a double-take. There was no denying the threat of the partial-Nirik before her-- after all, in a room full of paper, fire could cause unstoppable destruction. But her instincts beat out logic, and Chrysalis found her body preparing to feast. Her jaws began to open, her tongue lolling out, and--
“Quit it!” Autumn said, her voice a foreign and unholy sound.
She smacked Chrysalis on the snout, which seemed to snap her out of her emotional lust.
“Ugh, you make me so mad!” Autumn growled. She put her hooves over her eyes and tried to slow her breathing. “You get so caught up in the stupidest things!”
Chrysalis scoffed and folded her forelegs over her chest. “So do you!”
Stay calm, Blaze-y, the Kirin thought. Breathe in, hold it, let it out…
Autumn was massaging her temples with her hooves. “I swear, it’s like you don’t even want to help the Changeling Hive,” she said, more to herself than to Chrysalis. Her flames were dying down, slowly but surely. “I mean, if you’d been listening, maybe you would have cared about my Good Fortune idea.”
“I was listening!” Chrysalis insisted. She turned her snout up. “I didn’t like it.”
Autumn opened her eyes to look at Chrysalis, and Chrysalis noticed that they had returned to normal.
“What’s not to like?” Autumn asked. “The Kirin predict times of good fortune, and the Changelings can use the predictions to plan major holidays and events. It’s not like we’re ever wrong about that stuff.”
Chrysalis glared at Autumn. “Perhaps not. But you could lie.”
Autumn cocked her head. The last of her flames extinguished, leaving behind the faint smell of burnt cherrywood. “Why in the name of Yokai would we lie to you?”
“To gain an advantage!” Chrysalis pounded her hoof on the table again. “To thrust the Changeling Hive into a time of misfortune and famine!”
Autumn blinked. She was watching the crinkle of Chrysalis’ nose, the tension in her lower eyelids, the curl of her lips-- she was serious.
“Chrys, listen--”
“Don’t call me that.”
Autumn sighed dramatically. “Fine. Chrysalis.” She rolled her eyes. “I feel like you’re missing the point of this whole ‘diplomatic relations’ thing.”
“Impossible!”
“No, very possible. Likely, in fact!" Autumn said. “Y'know… the whole point of collaborating is so that everycreature benefits, even indirectly. If the Changelings are doing well, the Kirin are doing well.”
Chrysalis levelled her gaze at Autumn, saying nothing, yet aptly communicating her confusion.
“We’re happy if you’re happy, y’know?” Autumn explained. “We want the Changelings to do good because… well, because everycreature should do good. Plus, apparently our nations have some history and… it would honor our ancestors.”
Chrysalis' eye twitched. "You would do something simply because the Kirin before you did it?"
"Well, not just because of that," Autumn said, chuckling lightly. "My great-granmother brushed her teeth with chalk, but you don't see me busting out the school supplies every morning."
Chrysalis growled.
"We're updating the tradition," Autumn said. "It's nice. It makes you feel like you're a part of history, in a way, because you're continuing the old ways. Don't you think that's beautiful?"
Chrysalis shifted in her seat. “The Changelings didn't take advice from the Kirin in the past."
"Well, we don't know that."
"I know that," Chrysalis said, though she definitely didn't. "The Changelings would never trust a race who makes decisions in anger."
“Well, then, don’t make us angry,” Autumn said jokingly.
A little fear flashed in Chrysalis’s eyes.
Autumn looked down at her hooves. “Sorry. Joking.”
Chrysalis leaned back in her chair. “How can the Changelings trust that the Kirin are giving us the right information?”
Autumn sighed. “You just have to. It’s a leap of faith, y’know?”
“And how can you trust that the Changelings will use this information wisely?” Chrysalis asked.
“Uh…” Autumn narrowed her eyes. “Well… I sure hope they will. But that’s a leap of faith, too."
Chrysalis huffed, but said nothing.
Autumn was having flashbacks to her attempts at conversations with mute Kirin. Fortunately, plain frustration was not a flame trigger, though the feeling still made her want to grind her teeth and scream.
"In my experience," Chrysalis said, "trust doesn't truly exist."
Autumn rolled her eyes. "Of course you would say that. That's such a supervillain thing to say."
"There must be consequences if the Kirin do not uphold their promise," Chrysalis pushed.
"Ugh." Autumn put her face in her hooves.
Chrysalis stared at Autumn's frustrated form. "I don't see how that's unreasonable."
Autumn rolled her head to one side. "It's not unreasonable. It's just… unnecessary. The Changelings and the Kirin want to get along. They all want to be friends. That's why it would be nice if you could just trust me."
Chrysalis pressed her lips together. "But… you don't trust me."
"Y'know what?" Autumn spat. "It doesn't matter. We don't have to be friends to finish this stupid checklist, and we don't have to trust each other."
Chrysalis studied the Kirin carefully, sniffing the air as subtly as possible. She was hiding it well, but Autumn Blaze was still smoldering under that cool exterior.
The Kirin began to organize the papers on the table into neat little piles. Chrysalis watched quietly as she did this. Autumn glanced up every few moments, trying to catch a glimpse of any sort of emotion in her insectlike face, but could not reconcile what she saw, and thus passed it off as a mistake. A misinterpretation.
"The Changelings will accept your Good Fortune Initiative," Chrysalis said. "However, should you be proven liars, our diplomatic relations will end immediately."
Autumn paused. "Alright, fine."
"Fine."
Silence fell over the room.
Autumn continued to smolder, deep down.
Chrysalis did not even attempt to help with the organization.
"What letterhead do you think--"
"I'm thinking no letterhead," Autumn said.
Chrysalis nodded. "Hm."
“How long have we been in here?” Autumn asked softly, her form splayed out across the floor.
Chrysalis glanced up at the window, the orange light of the setting sun washing over her dark face. “The sun is going down.”
Autumn put her hooves over her eyes and let out one long, loud moan. “All day. All day, and we haven’t agreed on a single thing. And it smells like sand in here. Not that I don’t like the smell of sand, I’d just prefer a different smell. Or no smell, maybe.”
“Hmph.”
“What do we have left?” Autumn asked. She reached weakly for Twilight’s filing folder, which she had left on the table.
Chrysalis, sensing that this little charade might stretch on a little too long for her liking, used her magic to grab the filing folder. She sighed deeply, then said, “Social development.”
Autumn sat up. “Oh! Well, that’s fun.”
Chrysalis grumbled something and tossed the filing folder to the side.
“Or not.” Autumn stood up, slowly and with a lot of vocalization. “Do Changelings even have… I dunno, social events? Like parties or holidays or anything?”
“No.”
“Well….” Autumn trailed off. “Okay, could be worse! At least we… have a clean slate to work with?”
“Your positivity is annoying,” Chrysalis commented.
“That’s not a very constructive thing to say, Chryssy.”
“Chrysalis.”
“Meh. I like ‘Chryssy’ better.”
Chrysalis growled something to herself again.
Autumn moved to Chrysalis’s side and began to nudge her gently with one hoof. “Come on, Chryssy. We’re so close! We can call it quits as soon as we invent one dumb party.”
Chrysalis stared up at Autumn with nearly unbridled fury. “I would rather die.”
“Did you act this way when you were queen?’ Autumn asked, cocking her head as she gazed down at the fallen leader. “‘Cause I’m starting to understand why that didn’t work out.”
“Get off me!” Chrysalis shouted suddenly, waving her hooves at Autumn. “Where is Twilight? She said she would only be a few hours, and we’ve been in here an entire day.”
Autumn shrugged. “Maybe she got held up. Didn’t you ever get held up when you were queen?”
Chrysalis turned her piercing gaze on Autumn. “Stop talking about when I was queen.”
“Sore subject?” Autumn asked coyly.
Chrysalis growled softly in response.
Autumn sighed. “If you can’t remember anything, why don’t you look through Twilight’s boxes?” she suggested, gesturing to the now mountain of paper emerging from Twilight’s once-neat filing boxes. “Maybe there’s something in there about Changeling celebrations.”
Chrysalis growled again.
“Done talking?”
A little huff.
“Alright, fine. I can do this myself,” Autumn said. She took a deep breath, then turned to face the stack of papers. “I’m gonna talk about it out loud the whole time, though. Let’s move through the year chronologically, of course starting with the New Year’s celebration in--”
“Fine!” Chrysalis said, getting to her hooves. “I will help you look. But only because I don’t want to hear you speak.”
Autumn said nothing, just beamed in response. It was amazing how much mileage she managed to get out of the ‘I talk a lot’ thing.
Chrysalis stuck out her forked tongue.
The two creatures began to comb through the paperwork pile that they had destroyed. At first, it was a blind search-- just randomly grabbing papers and tossing them aside. This, apparently, was making Chrysalis feel anxious, because she started to organize the papers as she went.
Although Autumn couldn’t know for sure what Chrysalis’s methods were, she, too, began to sort her papers into piles by subject. Kirin things here, Changeling things there. Littler piles for more specific things. It was kind of cool how they were able to work in sync like this, Autumn thought.
Surprisingly, Chrysalis was thinking much the same thing.
As the pile decreased in size, the creatures began to relax. Autumn noticed a marked softness in Chrysalis’s expression, and Chrysalis likewise noted the way Autumn’s anger receded to near-invisibility.
Then, out of nowhere, Chrysalis spoke. “What do the Kirin celebrate?”
Autumn looked up from a paper on Changeling language development. “Hm?”
Chrysalis set her jaw. “You heard me.”
“Uh…” Autumn placed the paper she was holding in a nearby pile. “Well, we have a big New Year’s celebration in the winter.”
“Why?”
Autumn cocked her head to one side. “Oh. Uh, I don’t know, exactly. I guess it’s a… a celebration of making it through another year. It’s like you get a clean slate, y’know? Plus, it’s like celebrating making it through the hardest part of the winter. It’s just… nice. A reminder of how far we’ve come.”
“Hm,” Chrysalis commented.
Autumn wasn’t sure if this response was meant to denote interest, approval, or something else entirely. She decided not to acknowledge it.
“We… we also have a harvest celebration in the fall,” Autumn continued hesitatingly. “That one’s my favorite.”
Chrysalis seemed to smirk at this, though she did not let Autumn in on the joke.
Again, Autumn elected not to ask. She pulled another paper from the pile, this one marked with some very neat boxes.
“Oh!” Autumn held the paper in the air. “I found a Changeling calendar!”
Chrysalis looked up, almost hopeful, but said nothing.
Autumn turned her attention back down to the calendar. Unfortunately, it was mostly blank. Instead of being a calendar events, it seemed only to outline the ancient Changeling calendar, which had long fallen out of use.
“Why does Twilight even have this?” Autumn asked herself softly.
“Let me see!” Chrysalis demanded, not waiting for an answer.
Autumn felt her anger swell in her chest as Chrysalis snatched the paper from her hooves.
The Changeling examined the calendar carefully, her eyes scanning slowly over every square. Autumn tapped her hoof impatiently on the tile floor.
“Hmph,” Chrysalis commented, dropping the calendar to the table. “The Supercedure Memorial.”
“The super-- huh?” Autumn cocked her head.
Chrysalis rolled her eyes and sighed deeply. “In Changeling culture, the queen is often replaced suddenly and violently. Thus, it is not considered appropriate to mourn immediately after the loss of a queen, as a new queen must be selected. The Supercedure Memorial is the day that Changelings are permitted to mourn whatever queens may have passed in the previous year.”
Autumn’s brows furrowed. “I’m sorry, queens? Plural?”
Chrysalis was not amused. “This is the only holiday that Changelings observe, besides the recent editions from… pony society.”
“Hm…” Autumn tapped herchin with one hoof thoughtfully.
“I didn’t think we would find anything useful,” Chrysalis spat. “You should have listened to me. Now we’ve only wasted more time.”
“Oh, my-- how did you ever make it as queen for so long?” Autumn asked, exasperation and anger building in her chest. “You give up so fast!”
“Why, you--”
Autumn held up one hoof, stopping Chrysalis’s snarl short. “Listen. The Super-Seeder-- Super-Shedder-- the Changeling holiday actually reminds me of a Kirin festival.”
Chrysalis said nothing, but cocked her head slightly to one side.
Autumn took this as permission to explain. “We call it Tomb-Sweeping Day. It’s in the spring-- we celebrate by visiting the graves of our ancestors and cleaning them up, leaving flowers, playing music for them… You’re just supposed to spend the day outside, y’know? Enjoying the world the way the old Kirin would have.” Autumn smiled wistfully. “It’s like, for a day, they’re still alive. It’s really beautiful.”
Chrysalis watched skeptically as Autumn smiled fondly at the thought of the festival. “That sounds nothing like the Supercedure Memorial.”
“What?” Autumn leveled her gaze at Chrysalis. “How? They’re both days we spend honoring those who came before us, right?”
Chrysalis scoffed. “If you’d like to reduce the event to its simplest form, yes,” she said. “The Supercedure Memorial is a solemn event, filled with mourning and introspection. Sometimes revenge. Yours sounds like… a party.”
“Revenge?!” Autumn’s brain seemed to freeze in place as she considered what Chrysalis might mean, but she at last managed to move past the block. “Look. I’m not saying they’re exactly the same. But… well, don’t you think it's interesting that both of our cultures celebrate the past like that? There has to be some way we can--”
“The Changelings will not be celebrating the Supercedure Memorial alongside the Kirin,” Chrysalis said firmly.
Autumn sighed. “I’m not suggesting that they do. But maybe we could create a new holiday! Something where the Kirin and the Changelings come together to celebrate a shared history, and all of the changes our societies have been through.”
Chrysalis scoffed. “Such as?”
“Seriously?”
Chrysalis arched her eyebrows.
“Okay… such as, the way the Kirin finally broke their vow of silence?’ Autumn suggested.
“As if that is anything to celebrate,” Chrysalis muttered.
Autumn’s brows furrowed. “Hey…”
Chrysalis looked at Autumn. “A culture breaking a promise they made to themselves is not worth celebrating. It is a betrayal.”
The anger surged in Autumn’s chest. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. The vow of silence destroyed our culture. It reduced the Kirin to nothing more than a bunch of-- of-- mindless drones, wandering around their village aimlessly, doing just enough to stay alive! There was no art, no music, no laughter, no expression, no--”
“Yes,” Chrysalis said. “It sounds precisely like the Changeling Hive at the height of its success.”
Autumn scoffed, and a little breath of flame escaped her mouth. “Sure, sure-- if you define ‘success’ by how many times you’ve failed to murder somecreature! I’ve heard the stories about you, y’know. About all the times you invaded and got your flank kicked by the Elements of Harmony. You don’t get to judge what makes a society successful!”
Chrysalis should have been angry, but all Autumn could see in her eyes was hunger. Her tongue traced slowly over her teeth.
“Ugh, look at you!” Autumn shrieked, flames pouring from her mouth and chest. “You’re slobbering over me like I’m some-- some-- ugh! Y’know, the Changelings have grown so much in the past few years, and they have so much to celebrate. You just can’t see it because you still haven’t changed! You’re still the same empty husk you always were!”
Chrysalis’s mouth hung open, drool drizzling down her chin.
“Answer me!” Autumn screamed, her voice at once a deep growl and a high-pitched squeal.
As she shouted, her body exploded into fire. Every whisper of hair on her was replaced by glowing blue flames, and her skin was crispened to black in an instant. She could feel the ball of anger inside her growing and growing, the unbelievable fury at Chrysalis spilling out of her mouth, her nostrils, her eyes…
And then… it was fading.
The shock of it all almost turned Autumn Blaze back to a Kirin on its own.
In her shaking, anger-blurred vision, Autumn could make out Chrysalis’s silhouette before her. Her mouth hung open, and the flames from Autumn’s own hide seemed to be rushing into it. The image was grotesque and monstrous. It sent a chill down Autumn's spine.
Autumn's light dimmed. Her heart rate slowed. It wasn't so much a loss as it was an understanding, she thought. It felt as if Chrysalis were sharing the load of her anger. Taking the weight off.
The flames extinguished. Autumn's vision steadied. Her hooves found a solid stance on the table.
Autumn looked up. Chrysalis had collapsed into a pile of flesh and bones-- or whatever she was made of. She should have been licking her lips, looking satisfied and full. But she didn't look happy in the least. She looked, for lack of a better word, heartbroken.
“You…” Chrysalis rasped. She paused and swallowed dryly. “You… hate me.”
Autumn could hardly understand the comment. Of course she hated Chrysalis. Was that not a given? Did Chrysalis not know this?
“Uh… not totally,” Autumn lied.
Chrysalis sat down hard. “No. That’s a lie. You do hate me-- totally and completely.” She was silent for a moment, chewing on her own lip. “Why does that make me feel so terrible?” Her tone was so dark and defeated that it nearly broke Autumn's heart, too.
Autumn cocked her head and stared at Chrysalis. This murderous creature, this fallen tyrant, was upset… because some other creature didn’t like her?
It confused the both of them, it seemed.
They sat in silence a moment longer. Each of them trying, and failing, to understand the other. The distant hum of an air-conditioner filled the silence with a comforting white noise. The smell of sand from Twilight’s diorama was still quite strong, though not stronger than the smell of the Nirik’s flames. It was as if a candle the size of a bathtub had just been blown out, and the smoke was slowly dissipating.
Autumn looked up at her fellow ambassador. “Why haven’t you changed?” she asked softly.
Chrysalis said nothing.
“You accepted love, didn’t you?” Autumn pressed. “Twilight told me all about it. Starlight offered you love, and you took it. Just like all the other Changelings. But… you didn’t transform. Why is that?”
Chrysalis swallowed. “I don’t know.”
Autumn cocked her head, and suppressed a small chuckle. “You don’t know? How can you not know?”
“I thought it would just… happen. That’s all it took for the other Changelings,” Chrysalis said. Her royal persona was fading, her voice softening. “I’ve accepted love. I promise I have. I may seem… abrasive. But I… I want love. Real love, that I don't have to steal."
Autumn nodded slowly, letting the words hang in the still air. After a moment, she stood and walked to Chrysalis’s side. She sat down next to her, and looked up at the enormous Changeling expectantly.
Chrysalis looked down at the tiny Kirin. “I still have no friends. I still live alone in a cavern. I tried to be good for a long time, but… no one wanted to be my friend. Eventually, I gave up.”
Autumn reached up and placed a tentative hoof on Chrysalis’s shoulder. She stiffened, but did not brush the hoof away.
“I think this is simply the way I’m meant to be,” Chrysalis said softly. “I think I’m too broken to be fixed.”
Autumn sighed.
The creatures sat in silence again, this one even deeper and sadder than the last.
“Y’know, when I was a filly, I really, really wanted to be friends with the popular Kirin mares in my class,” Autumn said suddenly.
Chrysalis glared at her.
Autumn held up one polite hoof. “I swear, this is relevant,” she said with a chuckle. “I spent years trying to get on their good side; I would follow them around the village, buy them snacks, tell them funny stories, take them to plays… but, no matter what I did, they didn’t really want me around, y’know? It was like… they liked all the stuff I did for them, but they didn’t actually like me.”
Chrysalis’s gaze was softening, now.
“I think that, maybe… friendship is symbiotic,” Autumn said. She held up her hooves, each representing a member of the proposed friendship. “Just like the Kirin and the Changelings; it’s a deal we make, and we have to trust each other to keep it.” She brought her hooves together, and drew them in towards her chest.
“Hm.”
Autumn looked up at Chrysalis. “You hurt a lot of creatures, including your own subjects. I think that, maybe, they’re the ones who are keeping you from changing. They haven’t really given you the second chance they promised you.”
Chrysalis blinked. “So… it is their fault?”
Autumn shook her head emphatically. “Maybe you deserve a second chance, and maybe you don’t. I dunno. I’ve been in the Peaks of Peril for forever, so I have no clue what it was like when you invaded and stuff.”
Chrysalis hung her head.
“But… maybe that makes me the perfect creature to really give you a second chance,” Autumn said. “I mean, all I see is a Changeling trying her best to be better. You may have been stubborn today, but you were still trying to listen. Sometimes, that is.” Autumn chuckled again.
Chrysalis sighed.
“A-and you really care about the Changelings. Just like I care about the Kirin,” Autumn said quickly. “That’s why they picked us, right? ‘Cause we want the best for our nations.”
Chrysalis looked down at her hooves. She didn’t say anything, but Autumn knew she was looking for the change.
“Chryssy?”
“What?”
Autumn dove at the Changeling, hugging her around the middle tightly. She nuzzled deeply into the Changeling's chest, trying to enjoy the feeling of the hard carapace on her cheek as much as was possible.
“I trust you," Autumn whispered.
Chrysalis’s body went rigid. Slowly, haltingly, she reached her own forelegs around Autumn’s shoulders. She gave a tentative squeeze back.
Her body seemed to relax, though only for an instant.
With the sudden blast of a magical discharge, Chrysalis’s body was thrown off the ground. Autumn was tossed across the room as the Changeling’s limbs splayed outwards.
Chrysalis was levitating a good few feet off the ground. Her chest was glowing a very delicate blue-- no, ‘glowing’ was the wrong word. It was blazing, shooting a beam of light down upon Autumn Blaze.
As Autumn watched, the beam of light seemed to somehow solidify. It retracted back towards Chrysalis, and it wrapped itself around her tightly. As the glow began to fade, Autumn could see that the light was in the shape of a cocoon. The Changeling inside was completely and totally obscured-- not even the faint outline or shadow of her form could be seen from outside the light.
The cocoon lowered itself down onto the floor, its bottommost point just barely resting on the tile.
Autumn was frozen in shock for a moment. And, perhaps, partly from the magical blast that had knocked her to the floor in the first place. When the cocoon came to a rest, however, she scrambled to her hooves and ran over to it.
“Holy moly,” she murmured, gazing at the object’s surface.
She reached out with one shaking hoof and poked the cocoon.
It popped like a bubble, and another blast of light and magic surged forth. This one was warm and gentle, though… like the sunlight on a summer's afternoon.
Autumn had to shield her eyes for a moment against the sheer power and brightness of the light in the cocoon. As the light died down, Autumn lowered her hooves and looked at the creature before her.
Chrysalis looked very different, to put it mildly.
Her body was whole, now. No more swiss-cheese jokes to be made here. Although, Autumn thought there could be some material in the non-holed cheese department for a while yet. Everycreature loves a callback, after all.
She was no longer a dark and toneless grey. Chrysalis’s body was now blue; the blue of the foal’s breath flowers that had brought back Autumn’s voice. There was something wonderfully symbolic about that, Autumn thought, though she couldn’t quite put her thoughts together on how.
In fact, all of this new palette seemed to borrow from the foal’s breath flowers; a light blue coat, a yellow… saddle thing-y, whatever that’s called. Elytra, maybe? And her mane remained that familiar dark blue, though it resembled less a traditional mane, and more a membrane. Or an insect’s wing.
She was sparkling. Everywhere, head to hoof. Every surface just glittered in the light of the setting sun.
She opened her eyes. They were so much brighter now.
“Chrysalis?” Autumn whispered, her eyes wide. “Are you okay?”
Chrysalis looked down at herself, examining her hooves. She smiled a bit. “Yes.”
“Ohmigosh-- how do you feel?” Autumn said, putting a hoof to her mouth.
Their eyes met, and a warm feeling washed over both of them.
“Full,” Chrysalis said.
"What day, though?" Autumn asked. She rubbed her chin thoughtfully with one hoof. "Feels like a spring thing, y'know? Something about the way the world is changing, and how that's just like--"
"The seasons are always changing, Blaze," Chrysalis commented with pronounced eye roll.
Autumn clucked her tongue. "Yeah, but not like spring. Spring is all about renewal, rebirth, and change for the better. Everything explodes into color and emotion and sound… don't you think it's perfect?" She looked up at the Changeling with wide, pleading eyes.
Chrysalis grit her teeth. "Fine. Spring it is. But I want it in late spring."
"Why does it matter?" Autumn asked with a little snort.
Chrysalis smirked and fluttered her wings. "Because. I said so."
Autumn laughed.
Chrysalis knit her brows. "What?"
"Oh, nothing…" Autumn said. "It's just-- well, all those Changelings thought you were stubborn because you wanted, like, love or whatever. Turns out you just like to be difficult."
Chrysalis smiled a little. "Hm. Perhaps."
Autumn nudged her with her elbow. "Uh, try definitely."
Chrysalis actually chuckled at this. Nothing like the violent, abrasive, downright evil laughter she had shown earlier. This was a deep, rich, and genuine sound.
Autumn smiled. "Alright, whatever you say, Madam Ambassador. Late spring."
Chrysalis nodded, marking down the information on a paper before her. "Have we decided on a name?" she asked, putting a final flourish on her notes. "For the festival?"
"Hm…" Autumn gazed up at the ceiling, hoping for a strike of inspiration. "The… Unity Festival?"
Chrysalis wrinkled her snout. "No."
"What's wrong with that?" Autumn asked. "It sounds really nice."
"But it doesn't sound like a Changeling holiday…" Chrysalis said. "It sounds like a Kirin holiday."
Autumn sighed. "I guess that's true… what would you call it?"
Chrysalis closed her eyes. "The Remembrance of Symbiosis."
Autumn laughed aloud. "Okay, that's very Changeling. How about… The Festival of Symbiosis?"
Chrysalis looked down at her fellow ambassador. "Hm. Perfect."
Autumn beamed as Chrysalis wrote the name down in ink, underlining it twice.
There was a light knock at the door. "Guys? You still there?" Twilight called from outside the conference room she started to push the door open. "Sorry, I got all caught up in this crazy friendship problem, and I--"
Twilight's eyes met Chrysalis's. Her jaw dropped so far it nearly hit the floor.
Chrysalis looked at the princess, her head cocked slightly to one side. She fluttered her new wings with a little humming sound.
"Uh…" Twilight's eyes were flicking back and forth between the Changeling and the Kirin, finding no explanation I'm either of their eyes. "Is it just me, or does it smell like smoke in her?"
Chrysalis and Autumn looked at one another.
"Just you," Autumn said.
Chrysalis nodded in agreement.
Twilight swallowed. "So… things went… well?"
"Very well," Chrysalis said with a polite nod.
"Yeah, pretty good, I'd say," Autumn agreed.
