Prologue: Gone Speechless

"You can't do this! This is my family you tore apart; Festivia is my child!"

"Not anymore."

"... ... ..."

"You're first, old man..."

The queen of Mewni trudged on in a huff, her ears ringing with conversations and events she knew she was not meant to witness. The train of her deep violet robe flowed back and forth in the luminous water, standing out alarmingly against the sparkling gold. A light splash against her back made her pause, soaking her robe, sleeves, and thick curly hair, as the figure that had stumbled desperately toward her lost its footing in the shallow waves and fell onto its knees. The queen looked down at the shadow of goat horns and enormous bat wings looming over the water at her feet.

"Please. You don't understand." Lekmet bleated desperately.

It always came out as a bleat, the "baaaaaa" of a goat, which she had always found strangely annoying. There was a supernatural property in his voice which allowed his words to be understood by all ears, though the sound itself never changed. There had to be. What good would a Supreme High Chancellor be if no one could understand him? Of course, it was of magical origin, and like all magic, it could be countered.

"That's where you're wrong." Celena the Shy kept her back turned to him. She clenched her fists. "I understand everything. I already knew I wasn't really a Butterfly."

"...How long?"

"Since I was a child. From the moment I first held that wand, I knew it never truly belonged to me. I knew about the lost princess. I knew who- and what -my ancestors really were." She turned her head and glared from the corner of her eye. "But what I didn't know was how my great grandmother came to be here."

Lekmet gulped. "It wasn't easy."

Celena inhaled sharply. She turned around slowly to face the Chancellor in his meek kneeling state; his pitiful eyes, his soaked robes and fur, his trembling hooved hands around his fallen cane. Her own hands trembled with ages of suppressed rage. She removed the hood from her face, briefly revealing her diamond-shaped third eye before pale rose bangs covered it again, and exhaled slowly.

"What, exactly? Which moment wasn't easy?

The Chancellor said nothing, knowing there was no right response.

Celena sighed. "And there it is. The saddest thing about all this is how you can't answer that."

"We didn't have a choi-"

"Yes, you did," Celena said, eerily calm. "You could've let her go."

Lekmet shrank, his words gone. Celena straightened and continued.

"Instead, you silenced them to cover your crimes and hide instead of facing the truth. Instead, you stole her twice." Venom dripped from the last word, followed by a bitter sigh. "I was always afraid I'd be silenced for knowing this. I lived without a voice of my own, locked in a cage of fear because I know you'll never stop trying to silence people like us..."

She pulled her necklace out from inside her robe, revealing a vial of glowing green sand. She pulled a cork from the opening and emptied it all into her palm. A sharp glint shone in her eyes, a suppressed ferocity which Lekmet had surely never seen from her before.

"...Well, now it's your turn to go unheard."

She blew the sand into his face. He coughed and inhaled some of it, only making him cough more. When his fit subsided, he stood back up and bleated in annoyance...and that was all she heard.

"Huh. It worked." Celena cocked her head. She smiled sweetly. "I can't understand a thing!"

Lekmet gasped and touched his throat. "Baaaa?!"

She had no idea what he was saying, only able to note the panic in his voice. Good. She strode up to him and lifted her chin to look him in the eye.

"I'm going to speak my mind... and you will never tell a single soul what you hear."

Her ghostly voice haunted him to the bone. Lekmet had at least two full heads over the frail queen, but their height difference meant nothing to her anymore. Nor did his stature, position, or power. For this one moment in time, Celena the Shy had the upper hand.

"Festivia's bloodline ruined this kingdom, and you have only yourselves to blame for it. Sure, you don't have an uprising to worry about, at least not in this age; I know there's nothing I can do to stop the lot of you. But I've seen the ones that can. When the Jester before me breaks free...and he will break free...he'll be coming for you first.

"And, bless your heart, my Chancellor, I don't have the strength to defend you. I'm just too tired. Tired of being anxious and afraid; of you, of Mewmans and Monsters, of this kingdom, of magic. Glossaryck himself lost the strength long ago; that's why he abandoned you. He's practically abandoned magic, and sometimes I think he had the right idea. Sometimes, I wish it would all just ... disappear."

Lekmet shifted uncomfortably, then shook his head in disapproval.

"You don't think it's possible," Celena said. "Would you like to know a secret? I know how to make it all go away. The unicorns taught me. Not that I'd ever do anything like that. But it's nice to know the option's there."

Her voice was oddly sweet and casual compared to the weight of her suggestion, which earned only an incredulous stare from Lekmet. Celena turned away to gaze into the distance. Whether she was contemplating or ignoring, the Supreme High Chancellor saw no choice but to retreat back to the well he'd fallen from. Shoulders slumped and trembling, he disappeared upward.

Celena shook her head, then felt a nudge at her ankles. A little pony with deep purple fur and a black mane rubbed against her. She gave into its sad eyes, the poor thing frightened by the argument, and sat down to cradle it. The tiny unicorn was brimming with dark magic, stable and soothing as a still, silent midnight. Indeed, there were some aspects of magic Celena would miss.

She thought about what Lekmet would try to say to the others, if anything. What, or who, would they blame it on this time? Surely they'd all agree that the Queen of Darkness had started this ordeal. She blew hair out of her face. The reclusive queen would give up her crown tomorrow and free herself from their game of blame, but she wondered how much longer her family would have to put up with it before gaining the courage or opportunity to speak up.

"Eclipsa couldn't help being a Spade of Darkness." She pet the dark unicorn absent-mindedly, speaking to ears she knew would not understand. "No more than I can help being a Jester."