Father Time

Cadence walked into the throne room, passing brightly colored changelings who looked at her with somber expressions, yet they said nothing. How could they, knowing their old leader had been reduced to this? She pressed on, trying her best to maintain a straight face, each step echoing the weight of history that now felt like a tomb. The memories of their past flashed like ghosts in her mind, memories now tinged with loss. The weight of tears filled her eyes, but she refused to let them fall, determined to uphold the fading dignity of the moment.

As she approached, she saw Chrysalis struggling to move her hooves, a half-hearted smile sagging on her face, a shadow of the regal queen she once was. The vibrant power that had once filled the throne room had all but vanished, replaced by a stillness that felt suffocating. The walls, adorned with remnants of past glories, now hung heavy with the sorrow of dreams unfulfilled.

“A... at last. Give me the dress,” Chrysalis said, her voice tired and raspy, as if she were speaking to a ghost rather than an audience. The words tasted of nostalgia and regret, a longing for the days when she commanded fear and admiration.

Cadence stepped forward, her heart aching. With trembling magic, she pulled out a tattered dress, one that had seen many years. It was ripped and stained; memories surged within her, of fierce rivalries and moments that had, at one time, seemed like battles between two queens fighting for their places in the world. Now, those memories felt like relics of a past that could never return.

She led the dress with her magic to Chrysalis, who fumbled repeatedly to grasp it, her once graceful hooves now trembling and fragile. Each struggle was a painful reminder of what had been lost, not just for Chrysalis but for all the changelings who had once rallied behind her. As she finally managed to hold it, Chrysalis’s body cracked and popped, the sound almost breaking Cadence’s heart. “Thank you,” she whispered, her tone heavy with fatigue, but beneath that weariness lay something deeper—a flicker of despair, an understanding that every stroke of fate had conspired against her.

Cadence felt a tear slip down her cheek, the sorrow of witnessing a once-mighty queen reduced to this. The room filled with memories of laughter now silenced.

Cadence watched, a flicker of effort sparked within Chrysalis. The queen shuddered, trying to shift into her form, but it was a struggle. Cadence could see the visible toll that it took on her. Finally, with a soft gasp, Chrysalis attempted to mirror Cadence’s appearance. The transformation drained her energy, and she stumbled slightly, struggling to hold the illusion.

“Help me... back to my throne,” Chrysalis rasped, her voice barely above a whisper, as if the words themselves were heavy burdens. Cadence quickly stepped forward to support her, guiding her gently back to her seat. As they settled, Chrysalis's eyes flickered with a moment of clarity, a brief spark in the depths of fatigue.

“Cadence... I’m glad to see you,” she said, her tone softer, almost vulnerable. “Where is Shining? I haven’t seen him for a while. Is he coming over to have dinner?”

The question caught Cadence off guard, and a wave of sorrow washed over her. Memories of happier times flooded her mind, making it hard to breathe. Chrysalis’s form—now so similar to her own—was tinged with the weight of their shared history; many moons ago, they had forged an alliance to stop Sombra's return, a task that had pushed aside their tumultuous past.

“Uh... he’s good, yeah,” Cadence managed to say, her voice thick with unspoken emotion. “He asks about you often. You’ll see him again.” The lie felt heavy on her tongue, especially when she thought of Shining Armor’s funeral, where Chrysalis had been present, reading a eulogy that spoke of loss and regret. Standing among those who mourned, lingered in Cadence’s mind. It was a moment that had blurred the lines between them, revealing a shared sorrow that both had experienced, though in different ways.

“That’s good...” Chrysalis replied softly, genuine in her words, before closing her eyes, fatigue overtaking her.

Cadence felt a surge of conflicting emotions—grief, compassion, and sadness twisting inside her. Unable to resist the need to comfort, she stepped forward and wrapped her hooves around Chrysalis in a gentle embrace. The act was filled with understanding and an aching sorrow that transcended their enmity. In that moment, they were no longer just a princess and a queen, but two beings connected by loss and fragile hope.

As she pulled away and turned to leave the throne room, Cadence glanced back one last time. The sight of Chrysalis, so fragile and weary in her borrowed form, struck a deep chord within her. The shadows of the throne room seemed to close in, and as she stepped out into the world beyond, she carried the weight of loss.