“...you’re out of time, Princess Twilight.”

Chrysalis faced Twilight as they both stood at the edge of a cliff, the wind making their manes dance wispily. The Queen of the Changelings smirked as she circled Twilight, who blinked her eyes and yawned. Chrysalis glowered at Twilight, then paced in front of her.

“Yes, you are out of―” A sigh emerged from Twilight’s mouth.

Chrysalis snapped to face her. “If you’re not going to get in character, I’ll just get someone else!”

Twilight morphed back into a changeling. “I’m sorry, but this is just so dreadfully boring.”

“What’s boring about me practicing my grand monologue when she’s seconds from defeat, Lightning?” She asked, a hint of agitation accompanying her voice.

Lightning sat down on the grass and rubbed his face. “It’s just… every week, on Saturday, you take me up to this cliff, order me to turn into Twilight, and then run your mouth for ten minutes.”

Chrysalis pursed her lips. She then blinked and trotted towards Lightning. “What’s wrong with that? Isn’t that how you practice monologuing?”

“Listen,” Lightning said, “you don’t practice monologues. That’s dumb. When have you ever heard of someone practicing that sort of thing?”

Chrysalis huffed and turned away, the wind ceasing and allowing her mane to fall flat. “Well, no one else has survived an encounter with Twilight Sparkle before. I’m pretty sure they all did it on the fly, like I had to at the wedding.” Chrysalis sighed, then faced Lighting once more. “I mean, I got the pertinent information out, but it was more of a report than a monologue, you know what I mean?”

Lightning groaned. “I was there. You sounded fine.”

“Fine,” Chrysalis pressed, “fine!?” She shoved Lighting over and pressed a hoof on his throat. “Fine might be fine for other villains, but it’s not fine for me!”

“Cut the theatrics, I know you’re not going to kill me.” Lightning slowly removed Chrysalis’s hoof from his neck, stood up, and dusted himself off. “And why are you labeling yourself as a villain, anyway? That doesn’t seem like a healthy identifier.”

Chrysalis took quick, sharp breaths. “Because she’s a hero! Anyone who faces a hero in mortal combat is by definition a villain!” Chrysalis squeezed her eyes shut. “Don’t you read?”

Lightning stared at his Queen, then buried his face in his hoof. “That sounds like something out of a comic book.”

“And other literary sources,” Chrysalis said, blushing a delicate shade of cerulean.

“But it’s from a comic boo―”

“Graphic novels are a valid form of literature!” she roared, flecks of saliva spotting on Lightning’s face as the wind picked up.

Lightning pressed the bridge of his muzzle. “...whatever. The point is, there’s no heroes and no villains. Just ponies and changelings.”

“And minotaurs, griffons, dragons, and yaks.”

Lightning glared at Chrysalis, who smirked triumphantly. “Yes, there are those races, too. You get a gold star.” Lighting dragged the skin on his face down with his hooves. “For being a millennium old, you are such a child.”

“Well,” Chrysalis said as she kicked a rock off of the cliff, “they say staying young mentally is good for the body and mind.” The rock splashed in the ocean.

Lightning waved his hoof. “Redirecting back to the original point I was trying to make, there’s no such things as designated heroes or villains. Twilight Sparkle may be a hero to Equestria, but she’s a villain to the Horde.” Lightning paced around. “That’s what you keep telling us, anyway.”

“I-I know,” Chrysalis said before she sat down. “I know that’s what I tell you guys. It’s motivation to keep the fight going.”

Lightning did a double-take. “What? What do you mean keep the fight going?”

Chrysalis sniffed. “You heard me. Don’t make me repeat myself.”

Lightning walked up to Chrysalis and slapped her across the muzzle. “What is wrong with you? You’re telling me that you keep fighting with Twilight knowing you’ll lose and putting us in more and more dire situations each time we lose?”

“Heh.” Chrysalis giggled. “When you put it that way, it sounds kind of dumb.”

Lighting turned away and punched the ground. “What purpose does that serve? What benefit does that serve to the Changeling Horde?”

Chrysalis chuckled, stood up, and walked towards the edge of the cliff, the wind whipping her mane around. “It’s… it’s kind of silly. But there’s something romantic about the idea of being locked in an endless struggle with a rival―a foe chosen by fate. The two of you desperately fight, the hero proclaiming a brief victory before you regroup to fight again, the battle never-ending.”

Lightning lay down flat on his back. “My stars, I’m governed by a madmare.”

Chrysalis looked over her shoulder to Lightning. “Hey, it keeps the troops in peak condition, having an eternal foe.”

Lightning hit the ground again. “I realize that, but why does it have to be so that you can live out your insane fantasies?”

Chrysalis looked back over the ocean. “The end justifies the means, Lightning.”

Lighting stood up and stared at Chrysalis. “No! No, it doesn’t!”

“Who are you to question me?”

Lightning stamped his hoof into the ground. “A concerned citizen, that’s who!” Lightning cantered in circles. “And to think this could all be over if we just killed Twilight!”

Chrysalis whipped around and grasped Lightning in her magic. “That would be a terrible idea.”

“How so?” Lightning asked as he struggled in her arcane hold.

“Let’s try an experiment, shall we?” Chrysalis asked. She positioned Lightning over the edge of the cliff. “Let’s say I let go.”

“I know you won’t.”

“For. Example. Let’s say I let go, and you drown in the ocean. Who cares if you die?”

“Well, I’m pretty sure Fang would care.”

Chrysalis pulled Lightning to her face and stared him in the eye, her breath tickling his face. “That’s right. One. Changeling.”

He frowned. “Wouldn’t you care if―”

She threw Lightning into the ground, him howling at the rushed landing. “Right about now, no. I wouldn’t.”

Lightning stood up and rubbed his shoulder. “Wow, that was a rough landing. What was the point you were trying to make with that?”

Chrysalis stared him in the face and narrowed his eyes. “I’m very displeased by your failings in logic.”

Lightning shrugged. “I don’t see what the big deal is with killing Twi―”

“Who would care if Twilight died?” Chrysalis asked as she tightened a string of magic around Lightning’s throat.

“...I see your point.”

Chrysalis slammed Lighting into the ground, then brought him back up to eye level. “Not good enough. Give me the names of who would care if she died, like you did with yourself.”

“Where do I―”

Chrysalis tightened the grip around his neck. “Start from the beginning.”

“Um, well, there’s… Twinkletoes?”

“Twinkleshine.” Chrysalis took long protracted breaths, each one feeling like the flames of a dragon in his face.

Lightning chortled. “Ah, yes. Twinkleshine.” His eyes darted between Chrysalis and the cliff. “I think it’s coming back to me now… Lyra, Minuette, Lemon Love―”

“Lemon Hearts.”

“Sorry. Lemon Hearts, and Moondancer.”

“Yes, five accomplished graduates from Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns. That’s five unicorn-level Twilights we’d have to deal with. Now, continue.”

Beads of sweat formed on Lightning’s brow, slowly dripping down his face. “Well, th-there’s her friends in Ponyville.”

Chrysalis glared at him. “Name them.”

“Ah, heh heh. Applejewel―”

Chrysalis slammed him into the dirt again. “Applejack!”

Blood dripped out of a fresh wound on his head. “You know, that hurt.”

“Good.” Chrysalis bared her teeth at him. “Now continue.”
 
Lightning gulped. “U-uhm...let’s see… Applejack, Fluttershy, Rarity, Pinkie Pie, and Rainbow Dash.”

“Are we forgetting anyone?” Chrysalis asked, jaw clenched.

“I can’t think of anyone else―”

Chrysalis picked up a rock in her magic and drew it across his chest, blue blood leaking out. “I want you to think really hard about this one.”

Lightning was crying now. “Well, there’s Spike, but he’s useless.”

Chrysalis cocked her head slowly to the left. “Anyone else you’re forgetting?”

He managed a smile and a shrug. “No?”

“What about… Discord?” Chrysalis screamed as she slammed him into the ground. “Discord! Discord! Discord!” she repeated, punctuating each mention of the draconequus’s name with repeated contusions inflicted upon Lightning.

Lightning sniffed. “O-okay, I get it, you can stop hurting me now.”

“No, I don’t think you do just yet.” Chrysalis grinned. “Now, name her family.”

Lightning’s eyes were bloodshot. “Can we please―”

“Name her family!”

“Night Light, Twilight Velvet…” Lightning said before he looked down. “Shining Armor, Princess Mi Amore Cadenza.”

“”And who is Princess Mi Amore Cadenza related to?”

“... Princess Celestia.”

“And who is she related to?” Chrysalis asked.

“... P-princess Luna.”

“Good.” Chrysalis threw Lightning into the ground one last time. His left foreleg broke upon impact, eliciting a pained howl from him. “Those are the reasons why I don’t ‘just kill her’. That’s why I’ve constructed a narrative that romanticizes my failures as the design of fate. The alternative is far worse.” Chrysalis bent over and looked Lightning in the face, her breathing fierce and ragged. “Do you understand now?”

Lightning nodded slowly. “Y-yes, Queen Chrysalis. I t-think I do. Now can you please heal me?”

“Not right now.” Chrysalis sat down and stared at Lightning. “I want you to sit with this pain for a few moments and let the lesson digest into your brain.”

Lightning whimpered. “Yes, my Queen.”

Chrysalis stared at Lightning as he writhed in pain on the cliff, the writhing leading to even more pain as it aggravated his broken leg. The sun slowly descended as night fell upon the lonely precipice, the blue blood staining the brown dirt and the green grass as Lightning sobbed. A good portion of the sobbing was due to the pain, but another portion was because of how majestically shrewd the Queen was. Sure, she may do silly things like practice monologuing and read comic books―or graphic novels, as she insisted―but in the end she proved that she had the Horde’s best interests at heart. She was playing a game not to be silly, but to survive. And so far, the odds had been in their favor.

Lightning’s heart lifted as his bones knitted themselves together and his cut closed up. He stood up and rotated his foreleg.

“Are you all fixed up?” she asked.

He nodded. “Yeah, I think so. Thank you for healing me.”

“It was my pleasure,” she said with a smile. “Now tell me what you’ve learned.”

Lightning exhaled. “That even though what you do may look silly, it’s for the good of the Horde.”

Chrysalis stood up. “Nice and succinct. Just the way I like my teachings to be absorbed. Do you want a ride back to camp?”

Lightning’s wings buzzed as he sat on Chrysalis’s back. “Thank you. I couldn’t ask for such kindness after how foolish I’ve been.”

“Alright,” Chrysalis said. “Now to get back to camp.” She looked around. “How do we get back to camp?”

Lightning groaned deeply. “Really? You forgot where we were?”

“Hey, that was your job.”

“Right you are,” Lightning said as he looked to the sky, then at the back of Chrysalis’s head. “About three miles north.”

“Three miles?” Chrysalis whined. “That’s so far, especially with you on my back!”

“I’m pretty sure you can make the trek. You are the Queen of the Changelings, after all.”

Chrysalis chuckled. “That I am, Lightning.” With that, Chrysalis took off, the cliff shrinking as they flitted away from it and back towards the base camp.

“So,” Chrysalis said, “I’ve managed to acquire a few books on persuasive speech that I think will help me really jazz up my next monologue. Do you think I could try it out on you after I’ve read them?”

Lightning sighed and grinned. “Yeah, sure. Anything to get me out of guard duty.”

“Really? That’s your answer?” Chrysalis said with a groan.

“What?” Lightning asked. “I hate guard duty.”