Canterlot.
It was a gleaming city of ivory towers and houses, nestled snugly into the side of a mountain. He had lived there all of his life. Here he had been raised, taught, and loved. He had fallen in love, and was now living with the apple of his eye.
All was good.
Until he received a certain letter bearing the royal mark of Princess Celestia.
His love had shown worry, but he reassured her. After all, this was Princess Celestia, and last he checked, he hadn't done anything wrong. Yet here he was, standing before the great double doors emblazoned with the mark of the Princess of the Sun. The Sun was shining through a nearby window and covered his body in warmth. It did little to bring him comfort. He glanced at the guards standing at attention by the door. He gave of a sigh, causing one of the guards to look at him. The guard was a dark-grey pegasus, and her emotionless golden eyes were staring at him, awaiting a command. He gave off another sigh and told her he was ready. She gave him a nod and opened the door.
He gathered himself once more and stepped into the throne room. His hoof landed on a red silk carpet lying upon a marble floor. Pillars of marble rose from the floor, following the marble walls closely. Some of the walls had windows the size of six ponies on top of each other, the rest had flags adorned with the Equestrian emblem; a Sun and a Moon flowing into each other. This fusion of celstial bodies was encased in an upside-down triangle. The uppermost part of this triangle was filled with Pegasi moving clouds and training troops. To the left of the fusoined celestial bodies, were the Unicorns, creating blueprints for buildings and cities, and scanning fields for metals and gemstones. Some were focusing on research and experiments, studying the secrets of the Arcane. And lastly were the Earth ponies to the right, having the sun to watch over them. They worked the large fields of crops, they build the cities, and they made the weapons. This emblem, though being from a time with far more conflicts, had been the on Equestrian flag for centuries. The stallion studied the flag for a moment before continuing towards the princess.
And there she was, sitting upon her golden throne. The alabaster alicorn looked upon the stallion. He felt a knot forming in his stomach as the eyes of his princess fell upon him. He bowed before her, as was the norm, and rose as soon as she called his name. Truth be told, he didn't know why a diarch of Equestria wanted him to meet at the Royal Palace, but since the message said it was urgent, and the fact that it bore the mark of one of the princesses, he had to comply. Before he could even begin thinking of the reason for the meeting, the princess started talking to him. Oddly enough, she didn't speak to him the way she normally did to nobles. She spoke to him as a mother would to a child. She asked for his permission to let her perform a screening spell on his body. It would be completely harmless, of course, and it was naught but a small test. Having faith in his princess, he complied.
A golden glow soon washed over his body. With the glow came a warmth, slowly warming his body in its comfortable light. But this comforting state didn't last long. The warmth was soon replaced by a bone-chilling coldness whipping harshly at his flesh. The stallion gave off a small whimper of pain, but showed no other indications of discomfort. The princess, however, heard this whimper, and ceased the flow of magic. The stallion fell to the ground, shivering from the coldness he had just felt. He looked to his princess, hoping to finds some sort of comfort, something to make the freezing and the pain go away.
He found none.
She wore an alien mask of marble, giving off an air of sadness, but also something that seemed like... anger? That couldn't be true. Why would Princess Celestia be angered by him? He hadn't done anything that could anger her, at least not intentionally. Was it something he had done just now? Something he had forgotten. Maybe it was the way he drove his business, how he had conspired against his business partner, and tricked him into leaving the company. Maybe it was-
His train of thoughts crashed violently as his princess called his name once again. He focused his gaze upon her once again. She told him what the spell was meant to do: find a certain virus inside a pony's body. As the stallion had the witnessed, the spell would give off a comforting warmth. If the pony was infected with this virus, the spell would start freezing the body. He was infected. Then, she told him something most shocking.
He was to be banished from the lands of Equestria, and he would only have three days to leave.
He froze as the words left the mouth of the princess. He... he was banished. He was to not only be sent away from the very city he had lived in all of his life, he was also being sent away from the love of his life. This former princess of his wanted him to just leave everything behind?! He wouldn't let that happen. He started yelling at her. How dared she believe he was infected! And infected by what exactly?! What would happen to his marefriend? What about his family? Would they be infected?
What would happen to him?
The Princess of the Sun used her magic to push him against the floor, which quickly made him shut his mouth. Her patience was running thin, but she was benevolent, so she gave him a last request. He thought long and hard about this. What should he wish for? He could wish for being pardoned, but what good would that be? He was being exiled, due to some sort of infection. Maybe some knowledge on the infection? That could maybe help him, since he would then know the symptoms and where to possibly find a cure. It seemed like a very good idea, but there was something that just didn't seem right. Of course! That's what he had to do! He had to make sure this was taken care of, since he wouldn't be able to do it himself.
His now-former princess inquired to what his last wish was, and he answered.
He wished for Princess Celestia to tell his marefriend and family why he was being exiled. He wished they were told the truth, not just some lie to cover up his disappearance.
She complied.
Then, without another word, he left Canterlot. He took the next train heading south; towards Dodge City.
Towards the Badlands.
The town of Dodge City was rustic and the buildings were slightly damaged by the freak sandstorms that tainted the area, but it still held a certain beauty. The train ride had taken the better part of two days, but there was still some daylight left. The stallion sighed as he turned away from the window, reminded of his exile. A thought suddenly appeared in his mind; he probably wouldn't meet any ponies for the rest of his days. Sure, there were ponies in Dodge City, but after he left for the Badlands? The chance of meeting a pony out there was so very low. He left the train quickly and hurried onwards to the town's market. He had brought what he thought would be enough bits to buy rations to last him ten days. Apparently, the prices in Dodge City were higher than he initially thought, so instead of rations enough for ten days, he could only get enough for seven days. It didn't matter that much. After all, he would return only if he found a cure, and the chances for that were low. He didn't even know what the symptoms were, or what exactly this infection would do to him in the end. He would most likely just die in the Badlands, all alone, and next to no one would miss him. Maybe only his marefriend. The thought of her crying broke his heart, and she was possibly crying for him right now Oh, how he missed her. He missed her so much. He could take the next train to Canterlot if only to-
No. That life was gone, and he would never see her again.
But he still missed her.
Shaking his head, he forced the thoughts out of his mind. He didn't need this right now. He could think about her later. For now, he should focus on finding a cure, if such a thing even existed. His back itched slightly, but he didn't really pay any attention to it. The sun was setting. The stallion chose to stay the night at the local motel. Apparently, Dodge City attracted enough visitors to have a rather successful motel, even if it was infamous for the shady business that happened in the city. There was one thing that worried him, though.
Could he transfer the infection to other ponies?
His now-former princess hadn't told him. She hadn't told him anything important about whatever virus was inside of him. All he had been told, was that he could no longer live among his fellow ponies and would sooner or later be considered a threat. He didn't want to take the risk of infecting other ponies, but he didn't want to travel into the Badlands at night. In the end, he chose to stay the night at the motel.
Did it really matter if a few others were infected?
He shaked his head violently. He shouldn't be thinking like this! This wasn't how his parents had raised him to be! Why would he even think of something like that? He might have been able to fool his business partner, but he, at least, made sure nothing horrible would happen to him. He would only trick him into selling the rest of the business to him, and he even gave a quite generous amount of bits for it. But risking the lives of other ponies without any qualms? That wasn't like him. No. No it had to be the infection that made him think like that. Then it wasn't he who had thought it, it had been the infection. Yes, yes that made sense.
Didn't it?
He shook his head and hurried to the motel, got a room key and quickly went to his designated room. He threw himself on the bed, trying his best to let the warm embrace of sleep take hold of him.
The next morning, the stallion hurried to the reception and turned in the key. He quickly added that it would probably be a good idea to burn the sheets he had used, but the receptionist regarded it as a joke and started giggling. He gave her a small, forced smile before leaving the motel. He went through the streets, and when he reached the border to the Haysead Swamps, just east of Dodge City, he turned right, towards south.
Towards the Badlands.
Several ponies walked up to him, asking him why he was walking down this path. He just ignored them. They didn't need to know, they probably wouldn't understand anyway. He wasn't saying they were dumb, oh no, he just didn't think they would understand his particular situation. Either that, or he thought they would start chasing him into the Badlands with stakes and torches if he told them. He didn't really want that.
His back started itching, so he moved his bulging saddlebags a bit. They didn't quite hit the spot, but it helped a little. He could see the border to the Badlands. The land outside of the Badlands was healthy and able to support a lot of plant life. The Badlands, however, consisted of large areas of red earth, barren of any type of life. He could see the faint outlines of the many spires, towering over the landscape. He had heard they were quite majestic, although a bit intimidating, with their ginormous size and frightening spikes. Some had huge holes, giving these spires a gravity-defying look. Relaxing himself, he trudged down the road, and before he knew it, he had entered the Badlands. Almost immediately could he feel the energy seep out of him and into the ground. It acted like a sponge, and with every step he took, he started feeling more and more exhausted. Not by a lot, but he could definitely feel a greater loss of energy. The Badlands truly was a merciless, unforgiving land.
He reached into his saddlebag and pulled out an apple, which he chomped down hungrily. To make things worse, his back had started aching slightly, his hooves kept hitting the ground harder and harder, and he just felt like turning around and running back to civilisation. But he knew he couldn't do that. He had to search for some sort of cure, and the only clue his now-former princess had given him, was that the cure might be found in the Badlands, but she didn't know for sure. Even if she wasn't his princess anymore, it didn't mean he shouldn't trust her, so he did. If she told him there possibly was a cure for his infection and that it was located in the Badlands, then he would believe her.
Then why did he feel like this was just a massive waste of time?
The red ground stretched out before him still, showing no sign of ever ending. Giant pillars were spread all around the landscape, reaching up towards the sky, as if they were trying to escape the cursed lands. The stallion gave a small chuckle at this, quickening his pace, as he continued his trek.
Hours later, he found a nice, shaded spot. He chose to rest there for the night. He did not dream.
The stallion woke up. His coat was mildly irritated, and he was just about to complain about it to his lover. Then he remembered where he was. His heart shattered at the memory of leaving everything behind. Small tears were starting to form in his eyes, but he shook his head violently, forcing both them and the memories away. He reached into his saddlebags and pulled out some apple pie. He quickly ate it, not really caring about the fact that he should be saving some of it for later. After all, he probably wouldn't last long anyway.
He rose to his hooves and took in his surroundings. The sun was shining down on him, having removed the once cool spot he had rested in. He put on his saddlebags, but something was somewhat... odd.
His back was aching. A lot.
It seemed natural; he did sleep with his back against a stone, after all. But there was something about the ache that seemed off. It didn't feel like it should after he had had a bad night's sleep. It felt more like a growth spurt. He ignored it for now; he didn't really have time to focus on that right now. He had to find a cure against whatever had infected him. If only he had been told what it was. Sighing loudly, he continued on his trek through the Badlands.
After several hours of walking, his stomach gave off a loud rumble, telling him it needed something to work with immediately. He tried to find somewhere nice and shaded, but couldn't find any, and ended up just sitting down right where he was standing. He turned his head to open his saddlebags, but he froze as soon as he saw something frightening.
On his back were two wings. Though they were only the size of a foal's, it was still something quite terrifying. Colour drained from his face, his eyes widened and he started to hyperventilate. Why were there wings growing out from his back? When did they start growing, and, by the Creator, how did they even grow? His body shouldn't even be able to create new bones like that! It had to be a hallucination. Some sort of heat-induced hallucination. Yeah that sounded right! It had to be right! With his mind now slightly under control, he grabbed something to eat from his saddlebags, ignoring the lumps on his back; they weren't there, after all. While he was at it, he moved the saddlebags higher up his back, covering the small, hallucinated wings. Just in case.
It didn't help that they kept twitching slightly.
Irritation.
That was what he felt when he awoke. That was what he felt when he ate his breakfast. That was what he felt right now. He hadn't had much sleep, and the bags under his eyes were a dead give-away; his "wings" had itched horrendously. They still weren't real, of course, just a figment of his imagination. An imagination that was growing wilder by the minute, it appeared. He pushed his saddlebags a bit lower, wanting to see if the "wings" were still there.
Unfortunately, they were.
It wasn't much of a surprise to him, he did feel the irritated skin, after all, and the initial shock had long since passed, so his mood didn't really change much. They had grown a bit larger since he had last dared to look at them, which was now two days ago. Those last two days had only felt like a single day. The hours when by quicker than expected, and the lines between the days had blurred and disappeared. Maybe it was because he had started cutting down on his daily food supply, just to make sure he would last a little longer. Actually, it was time for his lunch. He looked through his saddlebags, looking for something light; three apples and a carrot. He pulled out the carrot and started munching on it as he trotted. He gazed at the environment around him, from the red, desolate earth to the nearby spires. Speaking of which, the spires were still all over the place, but they seemed less... natural. The further he went, the more clusters he saw, and there was much more space between them. It was as if someone had pushed the spires together, or created entirely new ones around a single, enormous spire. Each cluster seemed to be taller than the last, and they always gave off this eerie feeling. The stallion had chosen to stay away from the spires from now on. Not because of an incident, but purely because of the feelings of dread and iminent demise he felt each time he looked at one. He shuddered and went on his way.
A few hours later, the stallion passed another cluster, but this time he saw... something... crawling on it. Not just some small insects, or one of the few Diamond Dogs that lived in the Badlands, not even one of those arach'nithol he had heard of. Giant spiders with the upper body of a pony, living in small tribal communities. A bit odd, if you asked the stallion, but, hey, maybe there had been settlements in the Badlands, and maybe they had been involved in some... heated discussions with the arach'naiz, the local race of enormous spiders. Anyway, he should probably move on; only so many supplies, and so little time. The sun was still up, but it would be going down soon, and the stallion really didn't feel like travelling during the night.
His back was still itching and aching, and his head started aching.
The winds howled menacingly.
He woke with a start. He knew he had had a nightmare, but he couldn't remember what it was about, only that it was something... chitinous. His back was still aching, but the wings were now nearly as large as an average pegasus', but not quite. His head still ached, but he didn't remember hitting it. Maybe it was something he had eaten? Maybe it was a symptom of the infection? After all, the wings weren't real; they were just a hallucination. His stomach roared and twisted, indicating that it wanted to be filled. He still had a pie, but he wanted it to last more than a single day. He could either eat half of it now, or just take an apple, and eat some of the pie later. He chose the apple. It would have to sustain him for now. His stomach didn't really like the treatment he was giving it, but that was just tough luck.
He continued onwards, keeping his gaze on the clusters of spires, looking for something out of place. As time passed, he slowly stopped looking at the spires, instead keeping his eyes on the path in front of him. Slowly, his mind started to wander. It began innocently enough, with thoughts of that expo he should have been to today, thoughts of his business associate, Donut Joe, thoughts of Old Lady Cobbler's apple pie... thoughts of his first kiss with his marefriend. He thought of how happy they had been together, thought of the family they were going to start; he had even planned to marry her. Oh, by the Creator, he missed her! He just wanted to see her again, just once. What he wouldn't give just to her once more. But... he knew that was impossible. He had ventured too deep into the Badlands, and he didn't have enough provisions to return to Dodge City, and even if he did, then he would probably be assaulted by the guards as soon as he placed his hoof in Canterlot, maybe even already in Dodge City. He wouldn't know, but the Princess had probably already issued a warning about him, alerting every outpost near the Badlands. Probably something along the lines of the guards being allowed to use deadly force against him, provided he didn't have any proof of being cured.
He wouldn't bet on returning, and Lady Luck had a habit of favoring him.
Hunger.
His eyes opened slowly, but surely, as he heard the sound of his stomach roaring. It howled, and churned, and groaned, and twisted. Groaning, the stallion rose from his slumber. Funny... he didn't remember going to sleep last night. In fact, he didn't remember the night before.
...
Probably just the heat getting to him. Or the headaches. They had been getting a lot worse lately, maybe even being able to count as migraines, he did feel nauseous from time to time.
He shrugged and dug into his saddlebags, checking if there was any food left. There was only a single apple. One small, wrinkled, mottled apple. Closing his eyes, the stallion chomped down the apple quickly, hoping it would satiate his ravenous hunger.
It didn't.
His stomach groaned and begged for more, but the stallion had no food left. He sighed and started moving, even if his mind started filling with various thoughts once again. He thought of his previous life and all the good things that had come from it. As he trudged along, a small smile started forming on his lips, and his pace quickened slightly. This kept on for... maybe an hour or two? He wasn't quite sure how much time had passed, but it couldn't have been less than an hour. But then again... every good thing must come to an end. His thoughts crept towards the memories of every bad experience he had had: the fight he had with his father a week before his death, his parents' disapproval of him being with a pegasus, a falling-out he had with his marefriend two weeks ago...
As his thoughts continued down this route, his legs started moving slower, and his smile turned into a frown. Unfortunately, his stomach roared once again, reminding him of his lack of food. Something inside his mind snapped, and had anyone been near him, they would have probably heard it. He cussed lividly, laughed maniacly, stomped angrily, and the tears flowed from his eyes all the while. Then... he stopped. In front of him was a crater. The winds had given the crater a healthy dose of sand, having covered nearly everything in a thick, neat coat of sand. A smile started growing on the stallions lips; not a joyful smile, but a twisted, sick, manic grin. Suddenly, he did something quite peculiar.
He threw himself into the crater.
He tumbled down the side of the crater, the red sand mixing with his fur, filling his mane, and soiling his tail. Even if the coat of sand was thick, it would hurt everytime he landed. Sharp rocks were hiding underneath the layer of sand, waiting for some poor fool to step on them. Fortunately, said fool hadn't stepped on them; he had thrown his body at them, causing the some of the stones to rip his fur or cut his skin. The stallion kept tumbling until he hit the bottom of the crater, finally lying totally still.
He didn't even get to admire his new horn.
The stallion awoke to a splitting headache and an aching body. When he opened his eyes, though, he didn't find himself in the uncaring wasteland, also known as the Badlands. He was in a tent of some sort, decorated with various tribal markings. Interesting. He was lying on a bed made from feathers from local avian wildlife, with an over-sized blanket of fine-spun silk. Odd... he didn't believe tribals would have such large quantities of... silk...
The stallion fell out of the bed and scrambled frantically towards the other side of the tent, pushing his back against it. His eyes fell upon the tent flap; it was unusually large, even if the tent was meant for griffons. Must have been at least twice the width of a griffon, maybe two and a half times the height of a pony. Whatever could have such a height and be... tribal... of course! It could be an arach'nithol village! They were a bit more than twice the heght of a pony, and about twice the width of a griffon with those lower arachnid bodies of theirs.
The tent flap moved as an arach'nithol moved into the tent. Its long, elegant legs tapped lightly against the red sand, a distinct clacking of the carapace hitting carapace could be heard. The stallion's eyes moved from the black carapace, to the orange fur of the arach'nithol's upper body, tracing the slight curves of its body, still not sure whether it was a mare or a stallion. His eyes roamed towards the arach'nithol's face, noticing the mare-like features and, of course, the six eyes. She looked at the stallion with a mix between wonder and curiosity, and asked two simple questions:
Who are you, and why are you here?
And so, the stallion gave his name, and started regaling his tale: how he had been banished by the Princess of the Sun, how he had walked the desert for a week, how he had discovered his wings, how his provisions had disappeared, and how... how...
He couldn't remember what had happened after that.
He asked the... mare... where they had found him, and how his condition had been when they found him. Apparently, one of their scouting parties had found him in a nearby crater, and had decided to take him back to the village. He had been injured with several cuts, a broken leg, and various infected wounds. It was a miracle they had discovered him in time. If they had found him just an hour later, they wouldn't have been able to save him. He asked if they had found something... unusual in his body, like a small foreign object, or some sort of infection.
They hadn't.
The answer didn't surprise him, he just gave off a sigh and let it pass over his head. The gears in his mind started grinding quickly, as thoughts started jumping around. Before he knew it, he had asked if the village had any supplies they could spare: vegetables, fruit, water, maybe a torch or two. The arach'nithol excused herself in order to ask the Elder. Some time passed as she returned with a small bag of cactus apples, a waterskin, and a torch. They didn't much to spare, seeing that supplies were scarce enough to begin with, but they did have a small amount to spare. The stallion thanked the arach'nithol, and a few hours later, he was on his way deeper into the Badlands once again.
Three days.
That was how long his new supplies had lasted him, even with him rationing the fruit and water. Granted, he did eat and drink a lot on his first day, just to satiate his hunger and quench his thirst, but it still didn't go for long. He was thankful for the arach'nithol sharing some of their supplies with him, but they were long gone now. His weary legs could barely keep him moving, the sun was beating down on him, and the sand was getting hotter by minute, already making his skin sting. Seconds passed and soon turned into minutes, then hours. He didn't how long he had been walking, but he would keep walking if it meant finding a cure.
He'd keep walking until he died.
A group of five was soaring through the air, scouting the northern perimeter of their glorious nation, the dark of the night concealing them perfectly. He didn't like being on patrol duty, but somebody had to do it. He sighed. He just wanted to be in his cocoon today. He liked his cocoon; it was warm, snugly, rejuvenating, and, best of all, it didn't smell of cheese. He hated cheese.
As the group continued along their route, he saw something lying in the sand. He made his superior aware, adn the group descended, wanting to know if it was a threat, or just some debris of some kind. As they came closer, they could see it was one of their siblings. They didn't smell of home, but they were one of his siblings nonetheless: the holes in their hooves told him.
The group quickly started discussing who should take their fallen sibling home. He quickly volunteered, since returning his unconscious sibling meant he could go back to his cocoon. He liked his cocoon.
Two of his sisters placed their unconscious sibling on his back, making sure he was comfortable and able to fly with the added weight. Soon after, he was soaring through the air, and the minutes pass quickly. Once he was in the Hive, he went two times left, once down, and once right, right towards the medical ward. He quickly dropped his unconscious sibling into one of the empy pods, sealing it quickly afterwards. The cocoon started glowing a bright green, indicating a successful start-up. He smiled. He had done good, and could return to his own cocoon.
He liked his cocoon.
Queen Chrysalis, seventh regent of the Ontogenesis Hive, removed herself from her scrying pool, thinking about what she had just witnessed. A week ago, a new changeling had appeared seemingly out of nowhere. He didn't quite smell like the Hive, like the Swarm, but he would soon enough. When she saw him for the first time she had been... intrigued as to how he had appeared.
Now she knew.
She told her guards to fetch this newcomer. They obeyed and disappeared into the halls of the Hive. An hour or so passed, and the guards returned with the newcomer. The door, a large, thick sheet of sickly green organic material, opened for them. The guards bowed and hurried out of the Queen's quarters, letting the organic material close itself, once again acting as a door. The drone bowed to his Queen, not saying a word, never questioning his Queen's will. Chrysalis asked him if he remembered something from before a week ago. He did not need to mull over this. He answered immediately.
He remembered everything.
The Queen asked him if that life still mattered, asked him if he would return to that life, asked him what really mattered him. His monotonous voice bounced off of the walls. His old life didn't matter anymore, it wasn't his life any longer, so he wouldn't, and couldn't, return. As for what mattered to him? Well, the Queen should be able to answer that by herself. Her lips twisted into a satisfied grin.
He bowed, turned around, and left the Queen's quarters. In his mind, a voice kept whispering to him in repeat:
Your home is the Hive.
Your love is the Queen.
Your family is the Swarm.
Long live the Swarm.
Author's Note
So... first fic, eh? Tell me what I did wrong. Or just... y'know, comment and stuff.
Might write a sequel, but who knows? Nothing's written in stone... except the things that literally are :I
P.S.
Have a bunny:
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