Tirek flopped down into his chair at the breakfast table with an earth-shattering thump. “Any post for me this morning?”
“Watch it, you great oaf,” hissed Chrysalis, hastily stabilising her morning glass of royal jelly, and Cozy Glow wrinkled her nose at the sight of that hideous green slop. That Chrysalis consumed the same green gunk that she excreted had never ceased to repulse her — but Chrysalis took great offence every time it was mentioned, and sometimes it just wasn’t worth the hassle of having an argument again.
“No, of course there isn’t,” she said aloud, directing her scorn at Tirek instead. “No one ever writes to you. The only pony that ever did was me, and we live together.”
Tirek bared his fangs at her and a snarl rumbled deep in his chest. “Watch it, candyfloss.”
With a roll of her eyes, Cozy Glow reached for her oatflakes and poured a generous helping into her bowl. Candyfloss was the worst of the epithets Tirek had yet bestowed upon her, perhaps because it was the most accurate. Just like candyfloss, Cozy was saccharine, sweet, fluffy and coloured only in saccharine shades of pink and blue. It was so accurate that she still wasn’t convinced that it was Chrysalis who had come up with it. The changeling queen was far better at cutting insults than Tirek, who was in all honesty better suited to simply hitting things until they did not get back up. And because she had made the initial mistake of rising to it, he had kept on and on reusing it. She was reduced now to trying to do her best not to respond, in the hopes he would forget about it.
Silence reigned for a moment. Chrysalis slurped her disgusting jelly through her hollow fangs, Tirek banged around his bottles of protein powder, and Cozy Glow kept her eyes on the oat flakes and did her best to pretend that she was alone, enjoying breakfast like a normal pony.
Just like any other morning, really.
“What’s the letter, then?” Tirek asked after a moment. He flicked a finger toward the purple envelope resting on the kitchen counter.
Golly, he was thick.
“Consider the colour,” Chrysalis said, her voice filled with the contempt that Cozy had not bothered to express. “And the identity of the pony who sends us all our letters.”
And just as Cozy Glow was feeling a little glow of gratitude that at least one of her enforced housemates had more than two braincells to rub together, Chrysalis ruined it entirely by shifting to the edge of her seat, raising her tail, and laying yet another egg. The glutinous blue sphere plopped wetly onto the floor, and Cozy Glow’s oatflakes threatened to come back up.
“For Tartarus’ sake, Chrysalis,” she snapped. “We talked about this. Boundaries.”
Chrysalis stuck out a forked tongue, eyes slitted into a green-eyed glare. “Just because you went behind our backs to that sanctimonious little freak Twilight Sparkle and got her to preach a sermon does not mean I need to oppress my natural bodily functions.”
Understanding finally dawned on Tirek’s ugly face. “Oh. Is the letter from Twilight Sparkle?”
“Natural bodily functions?” spat Cozy, ignoring him entirely. “Is that what you call turning our guest room into a nursery?”
“Is it from Twilight Sparkle again?” demanded Tirek for the second time.
“A nursery is a necessary part of any hive,” said Chrysalis loftily.
As if on cue — which it almost certainly was, given Chrysalis’ control — a drone emerged from the cupboard under the stairs where it had been stationed to scrape the egg off the floor and take it upstairs. Cozy watched its receding back with her lip curled. She had agreed, under extreme duress, to two housemates, not two hundred.
“Ugh.” Her patience gone, Cozy shoved her soiled bowl and spoon into the waiting hooves of a second changeling drone hovering by the table. They were creepy things, all insectoid black chitin and ugly fangs. Not cute in the least. And one could never quite be sure where their faceted blue eyes were looking.
But even Cozy was prepared to admit that they had their uses. Doing the dishes was one. Her own particularly violent brand of stress relief had been another — a harmless outlet, really, as Chrysalis laid so many eggs that she was willing to let Cozy vent her anger on the odd drone. Unfortunately, when Cozy’s least favourite purple princess had found out about it in their monthly memory review sessions — just to make sure you three are staying on the road to redemption — she had put a swift stop to it. Even a non-sentient creature that was a mere fragment of Chrysalis’ hivemind was worthy of friendship, in Twilight Sparkle’s view.
Ridiculous sentimentality, in Cozy’s view. Just because a few of Chrysalis’ many progeny had eaten a little too much royal jelly, grown brains and gone rogue it didn’t mean that all the rest of them were people. And Chrysalis was much more careful with her horrible green goop these days, anyway. She padlocked the kitchen cupboard it was in and everything.
His patience suddenly evaporating, Tirek slammed his fist down onto the table hard enough to shatter its wooden surface into splinters. “I asked if the letter was from Twilight Sparkle!”
The remnants of the table collapsed, and Chrysalis’ glass tumbled to the floor to shatter, the remnants of the jelly mixing with Tirek’s ruined protein shake.
“Oh, for crying out loud.” Cozy Glow folded her hooves across her chest, flapping her wings to keep her at the frankly ridiculously high eye-level of the other two. “I’m not asking Twilight for another table. That was our third one this month.”
“Well, I’m not doing it! It was his fault.” Chrysalis shoved back her chair with an ugly screech.
Muttering darkly about withered harpies and blasted little demon-children, Tirek rose to his feet and stomped to grab the letter himself. His giant ham-fists were almost too big for the task, and Cozy Glow waited with vindictive pleasure to see if he would tear it before he could read it. His horns scraped the ceiling, his hooves left dents in the doors. Like everything in Ponyville, everything was just a little too little for him.
Tirek managed to extract the repulsive lavender-scented bit of stationary, monogrammed with Twilight’s cutie mark, and grimaced as he read the message penned in flowery pink ink. “It’s another friendship mission.”
“Oh, by the First Queen.” With a theatrical groan, Chrysalis pressed her hooves into her temples. “Not another one.”
Horror dawned on Tirek’s face as he read further, and his bass voice dropped even lower. “And it’s…oh, Tartarus, it’s a bad one.”
“What is it this time?”
Cozy answered Chrysalis’ question before Tirek could. “She wants us to partake in the holiday.” As always, she had been up hours before the other two. She had read the letter first, had already put together a scheme to subvert Twilight Sparkle’s blatant attempt at a moral lesson. It was always the same: Cozy was the only one of the three with any drive, any vision, any panache, and if not for her insane decision to work with them in that final battle, she would not even be here. It was all but impossible to get anything done with her twin burdens shackled to each foreleg, and that was as true here as it had been under Grogar.
“A pony holiday again?” Chrysalis groaned again, her neck drooping until her lank mane almost brushed the floor.
“They have so many of the stupid things,” growled Tirek, glaring at Cozy as though she was personally responsible for each and every one of them.
Chrysalis raised her tail for another egg to squelch into the waiting hooves of the nursery drone, back again for a second round — proving once and for all that there had been no need for that horrid display onto the floor earlier. In fact, Cozy was all but certain that Chrysalis could time the production of her eggs down to the minute, and chose to produce them at mealtimes purely to mess with her.
Her eyes narrowing and nostrils flaring, Cozy Glow did her best not to react. ““She wants us to go out and join in the festivities.”
With a heavy sigh, Chrysalis turned toward the stairs after her drone. “Together, I suppose?”
“When are we ever allowed to do anything alone?” Tirek crumpled the letter in his fist with an expression of disgust.
You’ll live together, of course. Continue to nurture the…ah, friendships you’ve been building. But the second one of you hurts someone — including each other — it’s back into stone you go.
What a curse it had been, that decision to suggest a better way to be bad. But how could she have foreseen the way it would end up? She had anticipated the possibility that her plan would not work out. Twilight Sparkle had beaten her before, after all. But the odds of the Little Miss Perfect turning a twelve-year-old filly to stone, not to mention reviving her and forcing her to live with two immortal and consummate villains…Cozy Glow did not think she could be blamed for failing to predict that.
As one, they headed for the stairs. Chrysalis made it up first, and Tirek attempted to muscle ahead of Cozy, but she had the satisfaction of being able to simply flutter up and over his head. Stairs were of no concern to her.
She glanced back down at the wreckage of their breakfast, beyond Tirek’s furious expression. The kitchen drone was edging closer to the ruins of the table, its eyes glinting at the sight of the protein-jelly mess, mouth opening as it salivated. Cozy Glow could already see that going disastrously wrong — it was all but guaranteed that before the day was out there would be some sort of bulked-up hyper-intelligent changeling monster rampaging through Ponyville — but she only smirked and let her bedroom door slam shut behind her. It wasn’t her problem. Let Princess Twilight and her precious little friends do some work for once.
Jamming a wooly hat onto her head and wrapping a too-long scarf around her neck, Cozy’s preparations were short. Colours that complemented her fur, in angora wool as soft as her baby-blue curls, both items sized deliberately too large to make her look even smaller and more innocent. It was largely useless at this stage, as everypony in Ponyville knew exactly who she was and what she had done — not to mention the two literal monsters that accompanied her everywhere — but a little effort to attain her ordinary cuteness was never going to be wasted.
She headed back to the kitchen, noting with distaste the drone frantically licking up every green droplet it could get its tongue on.
Chrysalis was already there, watching her spawn with cold amusement in her eyes. Getting dressed for her consisted less of what would complement her features and more of choosing the features themselves. She was wearing her usual going-out form — the red-haired unicorn shape she had once used to gather strands of hair from the Elements. Part of the terms of their agreement was no unauthorised magic use; not a problem for Cozy, but a significant hurdle for both Chrysalis and Tirek. The original owner of the creamy unicorn’s DNA had been dead for three hundred years, and Twilight Sparkle had judged it the only acceptable face that Chrysalis could don when she wished to appear a little more equine and a little less monstrous.
“Right. I’m ready.” Tirek reappeared, wearing the hideous broad-brimmed sunhat the apple-themed yokels had given him on the day Twilight Sparkle farmed them out as slave labour to build a barn.
Once, she had thought that hell was other ponies. That feeling had driven a lot of her decisions, shaped her into the pony she was today. But lately, her philosophy had undergone a subtle change. Hell was not other ponies. Hell was a changeling queen and a centaur, and Cozy Glow was deep, deep inside it.
To begin with, they had not been allowed to stir out of the cottage the Equestrian Crown was renting for them without an escort. At first their escorts had been two or more of the Elements — Twilight and whoever she could persuade to join her. Then for a long time it was just Twilight, and then as she got busier and her patience for the endless squabbling grew shorter, they were trusted to go out alone.
The streets of Ponyville were busy as ever. Ponies trotted in every direction, breath steaming and tails flying as they hurried past. There was bunting going up, orange and red in the autumnal colours, and foals were cutting out paper chains shaped like leaves. No pumpkins, of course, though every coffee shop and cafe they passed still reeked of pumpkin spice. The last of the Nightmare Night decorations had been taken down weeks ago, ready to make way for what was, in Cozy’s opinion, the very weakest and limpest of all the pony holidays. And given how very weak and limp Hearthswarming, Winter Wrap Up, the Summer Sun Celebration and the rest could be, was saying something.
The Day of Thankfulness. A hastily cobbled-together holiday, instituted by Celestia after her sister’s return. Cozy Glow had deliberately avoided participating thus far, but from what she gathered, the point of it was to gather round, eat a giant meal, and then list whatever banalities you were thankful for. Celestia, obviously, was thankful that her sister’s midlife crisis had ended, but why the rest of them were meant to care about that was beyond Cozy.
Tirek and Chrysalis were watching the fevered preparations with blank, uninterested expressions. This was the third pony holiday they had been bullied into celebrating, and with each subsequent one their limited curiosity had waned.
“Which holiday is this again?”
Cozy opened her mouth to answer, impatience flashing hot — but then she caught herself. Now here was an opportunity. A chance to mess with Twilight’s lesson plan, and best of all, one with plausible deniability.
Cozy Glow smiled as she answered him. “It’s Hearthswarming, of course.”
Perhaps today would be a little more interesting than she had anticipated, after all.
“This is pointless,” Tirek groused. “What is there to celebrate about a hearth?”
“Ponies believe that coming together around the fire brings you closer,” said Cozy Glow, in as saintly a manner as she could manage.
Chrysalis pursed her lips, looking sceptical “And how does the tree relate to sitting around a fire?”
“They decorate the tree together,” said Cozy. “As a family activity.”
“And the candy?”
“To eat while you’re by the fire while you’re listening to the stories.” Sun and moon, this would be dull as ditchwater if she was genuinely attempting to teach them about Hearthswarming. It was like talking to a pair of rocks.
“And…” There was a long pause as Tirek considered his next question. “What does all that have to do with the porcuturkey?”
Cozy Glow regarded the hibernating heap of spikes and wattle before them with a proprietary air. It gobbled softly with each breath out. “Well, Hearthswarming doesn’t really start until you unleash the porcuturkey in the town square. I remember my old town couldn’t find one this one year, and we had to make do with a regular porcupine.” She pouted. “Worst Hearthswarming ever.”
“And,” said Chrysalis, tugging sharply on the ropes she held in her magic, making doubly sure that the vast, spindly creature struggling behind them was still secure, “We definitely need the porcuturkey and the preying turkeymantis? Does this happen every year?”
“Obviously,” snapped Cozy. “The seasonal slaying of the monsters is a huge part of the holiday. It’s festive. Why do you think they’re endangered?”
“And you’re certain about all this?”
“Golly,” protested Cozy in a tone of wounded pride, “It’s like you two don’t trust me.”
“You know,” said Chrysalis, as the three of them watched from atop their safe perch atop the town hall’s spire, “I’m starting to think that maybe this pony holiday isn’t so bad after all.”
Cozy Glow smiled with the supreme satisfaction of a plan well plotted as she watched the two blurry, pulsating spheres of empty sky move into position. Changeling transformation magic, whilst capable of complex and incredible feats, was also remarkably good at simple camouflage. And the shocking numbers of Chrysalis’ progeny now living out a cramped existence in the spare bedroom had come in remarkably handy. They were more than capable of lifting two large, angry turkey-monsters, and it hardly mattered if a few of them got crushed.
Tirek smiled, his fangs long and sharp, and Chrysalis’ head jerked as she pulled the changeling swarm away from the burdens they were carrying. The camouflaged drones flowed away, and the beasts they had been concealing were revealed in one glorious moment.
The preying turkeymantis, all spindly yellow limbs and bulbous black eyes, fell onto its segmented back and shrieked — the sound one-half furious gobble and one-half insectile hiss. Startled ponies screamed and cowered, and as the porcuturkey thudded to the floor and shook out its spines with a menacing rattle, Cozy Glow beamed.
Perhaps there were things to be thankful for after all.
The chaos that unfolded in the town square had been delightful, but once the Elements turned up Cozy had judged it best to make herself scarce. She had been on the receiving end of those glowing crystals one too many times to have not learned her lesson.
Besides, while the Princess and her friends were distracted, there was plenty more fun to be had elsewhere in Ponyville.
“Pony traditions are usually so twee,” Tirek commented, digging deep into his sack for another fistful of gobstoppers. “But this one, I like.”
As he spoke, he reeled back his arm and hurled the rock-hard sweets at the distant forms of the fleeing children. The little orange runt went down like a sack of potatoes, and Tirek crowed with delight.
“Amateurish,” said Chrysalis, with a sneer. “Headshots are too easy.”
A flick of her hoof sent a pair of drones streaking through the air after the fillies. Between them hung a gigantic wad of chewing gum, dripping with the saliva of Chrysalis’ nascent swarm. And once they were directly overhead, Chrysalis smirked and the gum fell. The unicorn filly was swamped, her plaintive cry drowned out almost instantly by the sheer volume of gum.
Tirek scowled. “Throw it yourself. Drones are cheating.”
“Oh, who cares?” Cozy flapped a little higher into the air before lifting the straw she carried to her lips. The wind was blowing from the east…and at this distance…a few rapid calculations and then she puffed out her cheeks as the lemon sherbet she had been sucking shot through the air. The final filly, the hick earth pony, screeched in pain as Cozy’s shot landed directly as intended — right into her ear canal. She’d be half-deaf for weeks.
The three of them regarded their fallen prey with satisfaction before sinking further back into the undergrowth.
“What comes after handing out candy?” asked Chrysalis, her voice almost eager.
“Next is the hearthswarming tree,” replied Cozy, a smile on her face. “And remember — if Twilight asks, we’re just spreading hearthswarming cheer.”
The potted ya-te-veo tree sat in the centre of Mane Street, its tendrils merrily snaking out to snag terrified ponies and drag them back towards the gaping maw in its trunk. Each tendril was festooned with fairy lights and baubles, placed there courtesy of Chrysalis’ children — at the cost of only a few lives.
It was a rare species, and Cozy had had only the vaguest idea that there might be one growing down by the river in the Everfree. But they had been lucky, and stumbled upon a swampy area that was home to an adolescent ya-te-veo; still small enough to be uprooted and moved.
But still plenty big enough for Cozy’s purposes.
“What’s next?” Tirek was looking positively cheerful as he asked the question, and Cozy grinned back, glad to see him finally getting into the spirit of things.
“We’ll go and pick out our presents for all our friends, of course!”
“Presents?” Tirek wrinkled his nose.
“Oh, come now, Tirek,” smirked Chrysalis, elbowing him in the gut with her pointiest limb. “Cant’ you think of anything you’d like to wrap up with a bow for Princess Twilight?”
Slowly, Tirek’s smile widened. “Ah. Well, I have a few ideas.”
“Stop right there!” The voice that rang out behind them froze all three of them in their tracks. They had all been on the wrong side of that shrill whinny — on the losing side of a battlefield.
Pasting on her friendliest smile, Cozy rotated a hundred and eighty degrees in the air to face the princess. “Hello, Twilight!”
“You little monster!” Twilight was panting, and she looked…decidedly frazzled.
“Who, me?” Cozy pressed a hoof to her chest.
“This was all you, wasn’t it?” Twilight Sparkle’s voice was rising again, verging on hysterical. “Everything today was all you three!”
“I don’t know what you mean,” said Chrysalis. “We’ve been participating, just like you told us to.”
Tirek snorted air out through his nostrils and pawed the ground; always a sign he was growing antsy. “We did every one of your wretched pony traditions!”
“What…what traditions?”
Chrysalis turned to Cozy, and with a smile so sickeningly sweet that it could have been one of Cozy’s own, pointed a perforated hoof at the filly. “The ones dear little Cozy told us about, of course.”
“Cozy!” Twilight looked at Cozy with an expression that, despite every one of their interactions and the lessons they should have taught her, still managed to look like genuine shock. “You lied to them?”
Cozy batted her eyes. “No, of course not. Miss Cheerilee last distance-learning lesson said I had to practice my creative writing, so I was just doing what she said.”
Twilight pressed a hoof to her eye, pulling it down slowly so that the flesh beneath her lower eyelid was exposed for a moment as she groaned.
Summoning the trembling lip and big, shiny tears that had never failed her yet, Cozy Glow teetered on the brink of tears. “Did I…did I do something wrong, Princess?”
Pulling in one deep, calming breath, and still looking the exact opposite of calm, Twilight shook her head. “Did you completely miss the point of my friendship lesson?”
“Oh, no, of course not,” said Cozy, in her best innocent voice. “On the Day of Thankfulness you’re meant to list things you’re thankful for, right?”
Another heavy sigh from Twilight. “Yes, that’s right.”
Cozy beamed. “Well, I found one thing I’m thankful for today.”
“And what’s that?”
“I’m thankful that you gave me the opportunity to make all these wonderful memories,” chirped Cozy, flying a little higher so that she could hook a foreleg around both Chrysalis and Tirek’s horns and drag them in close to her for a cuddle, “With my two best friends in the whole world!”
And though both of the others snarled and shoved her away, Cozy Glow’s childish peal of laughter was almost as genuine as the look of impotent fury on Princess Twilight’s face.
