Beyond The Hive

Chapters

Departure
Trepidation
Tales
Prologue: Emergence

Departure

I stand at the edge of the long winding tunnel which leads up to the over-world. This is it, this is where I depart the Hive on my mission. To think I was a young changeling hatching from the cocoon a few cycles ago.

I'm still a young changeling. What if this goes wrong?

I turn around to say goodbye to my fellow Hive members but instead, I find myself only looking at the Queen and her Guards, awaiting my departure.

I hadn't really made any friends in my short time here. No changeling had. We didn't really believe in friends anyway; we thought of ourselves as allies and not much more. Still, it would be nice to know that some changeling would miss me. Perhaps the Queen? No, she doesn't care for me; she cares for what I shall achieve.

What I shall achieve. What I must achieve.

I am determined to complete this mission, so that one day maybe I'll become a Guard of the Queen. The Hive will one day honour and respect me, I just know it.

With renewed hope and vigour, I turn back around, and move slowly towards the tunnel entrance. Just as I am about to disappear from sight, I feel the Queen enter my mind one more time, providing a message: Remember, friends are only accomplices who haven't let you down yet. Don't get too close to any creature.

***

The tunnel I must traverse is very long and winding, filled with numerous pits and dangerous terrain. It was designed with the intention that any traveller who entered from the surface would never return. It starts off simple enough, but gets dark very quickly, and the victim soon finds themself lost. They have two options from then on:

1) Stay perfectly still and perhaps call for help as they are unable to see through the dark and are too scared to move. This would usually result in a changeling answering their call, and they would be promptly taken back to the Hive, and harvested.

2) Find a way out. Whether it was carefully inching across the tunnel wall, or running wildly, it would be futile yet again. The passages are designed to amplify and echo sound which proves extremely unnerving for most. Buzzing is often heard in the dark and is used to scare the victim by shifting position frequently to give the illusion you are evading the threat; when in fact you are running straight to the Hive.

I move quickly, using my advanced sense of smell to follow the scent of fresh air. It doesn't take long, the journey becoming almost rhythmic as I find myself not even having to pause at each fork of the tunnel. It is more exhausting on my mind than it is on my physical form.

The sound of buzzing in my brain becomes fainter and fainter as I distance myself from the Hive. The noise of every little mind knocking on the inside of my head has almost disappeared; only the faintest sound of the Queen can now be heard. It is a weird sensation, but it is bearable; I can only hope I will get used to it in the over-world.

Light from the outside begins to reflect around the twists and turns of the tunnel as I approach the mouth of the cave.

I slow down as I get ever nearer, the magnitude of the light unnatural and painfully bright. Squinting, I stagger forth and let the full force of the light engulf me.

It's blinding now, and I have to keep my eyelids tightly closed to prevent retina damage. I try to use my sense of smell to navigate through the light; it feels almost useless now as the open air dilutes the scent of things.

My hoof kicks something hard, and I topple forwards into a cold, refreshing liquid. The light seems to dim slightly as I roll on to my back, the rubble prickling my skin through the water.

As the light intensity softens, I open my eyes and look around.

I am at the bottom of a huge gorge with muddy banks and a river flowing through the middle. Clumps of trees litter the sides, illuminated by the sun beaming down at its new arrival.

I turn around and see the cave that I just came from. From the outside, the cave looks like any other. A humble disguise.

I take about a minute to take it all in. Credit where credit's due. This place might not have the magnificence of the Hive, but it is a perfectly respectable effort.

After seeing enough I briefly assess myself: The emptiness in me is actually tolerable at the moment. Instead of the thoughts of a thousand others, I can now only feel mine, albeit with a distant connection still with the Queen. Perhaps not enough to communicate with me, but enough to know when something is wrong. The new light has also become quickly bearable and almost comfortable compared to the dismal glow of the Hive. I guess my eyes adjust themselves quickly to these things.

Right, now back to business. Let's put the intellect the Queen spoke of to the test.

I need a plan. I need a creature to change into.

I quickly move over to the base of the cliff to hide myself from plain sight in case something comes along.

I can't be seen as a changeling. Ever. That is the main priority.

The ponies would ruin everything: they would start asking questions, no one would be trusted. For me to get anywhere in this land I need to be able to walk freely: I need a disguise.

I can't simply stroll into a town and take someone's place. I have to do it stealthily, without any detection whatsoever.

My eyes turn to the waterfall and the accompanying trees at the top. A plan forming, I creep along the base of the cliff, hidden in the shadows.

I'm gambling on a river having some life nearby to use the liquid. Also, the cover of the trees will be perfect for me to ambush an unsuspecting life-form. Then I can kill it, take its place, and start exploring without the need to remain hidden.

I ascend the waterfall briskly, using my own wings for perhaps the last time in the over-world, and come to the edge of a forest.

The information of the place quickly runs through my head: Everfree Forest, borders Ponyville; is near the centre of Equestria, near the current Hive. It is an alluring place, home to many creatures both hostile and not.

Well, it's about to gain another hostile creature.

Smiling, I dash forward and let the darkness of the trees swallow me whole as I enter the forest.

***

The Queen informed me numerous times that the Everfree forest is a dark place, that even I should be careful. The fog is mysterious, and I am forced into being cautious with every step, unsure of my surroundings.

Throughout the long walk the whole forest is silent, the only thing audible being the sound of my unusually loud hoofsteps. It feels slightly similar to the tunnel I was just in; this time I am not the predator, I am the prey lost in its endless passages.

An uncommon sound in the silence enters my ears: a strange rustling amongst the thick trees.

I am instantly alert.

My mind starts racing, and I begin to panic slightly as this isn't a position changelings are usually in. Luckily logic starts taking over as I think the matter through. First of all, I must hide.

I abandon the small clearing and quickly conceal myself in a bush, peering through the leaves.

It is only precautionary and I am not sure what could be between the trees. However, I am taking no chances. If it is a pony then the time has come for my journey to properly begin.

But what if I fail? Before now I have only been assuming that I would be the victor in this fight, completely certain it would go off without a hitch. I fast forward to the consequences if I am defeated:

The whole of Equestria will be on their guard, knowing that a changeling is on the loose. This is assuming I get away from the fight because if I don't, I will almost certainly be captured and executed. That is the terror that now grips the ponies of Equestria after their previous encounters with my kind.

The main priority is not being detected, as a changeling.

I feel my body shifting again as I transform into the only non-changeling form I know: the red unicorn we tortured in the Hive. At least if this doesn't work, I wont jeopardise my mission; another changeling can take my place.

Because that is the most important thing: the Hive, not a simple member such as myself.

I put my attention back on the clearing before me, this time with my new brown eyes. This form should only be temporary, I am still confident I can defeat whichever pony I find.

The rustling becomes increasingly louder as something approaches, unaware of its impending doom. If it's lucky, I will kill it instantly and hide the body somewhere; if it's unlucky, I will drag it kicking and screaming back to the Hive where it can be fed on until the changelings are content.

And that will be a very long time indeed.

My thoughts however are brought swiftly to a halt as something roars between the trees, causing the whole place to vibrate.

I shiver, for that is not a sound of a pony.

However, I decide not to flee as it will only attract attention. So I stay perfectly still as a winged lion emerges from the shrubbery. Through the blood pumping in my ears, my mind swiftly recalls the information I know about the creature:

A manticore: has the body of a lion, a scorpion's tail, and a pair of dragon-like wings to top it off. Very fierce, very deadly. Possesses supreme strength and brute force, one not to be trifled with. I am easily outmatched so the solution is not to fight but to keep hiding. There is no point in dying at this stage when it can be avoided. I will gain nothing, the Hive will gain nothing.

But the manticore isn't ready to let his prey slip away that easily. He knows I'm here; he can feel it in the breeze that carries the smell of changeling before him.

He begins patrolling the rim of the clearing, brushing through bushes for any signs of life. I can only hope that my transformation, perhaps a good call on my part, has made me harder to detect.

The manticore suddenly flips round, his eyes piercing me through the leaves. His mouth widens, revealing razor sharp teeth, and he lets rip a deafening a roar.

"Hopefully that was just a precautionary movement, just a coincidence, and it hasn't located my position," I tell myself without believing a word of it.

No luck.

The manticore lunges forward, mouth fully stretched, aiming to eat the bush whole and all that lies in it.

The game is up. I try desperately to untangle myself from the brambles but my efforts fall short as the manticore pounces upon me.

Completely out of my depth, and wrapped in terror, I swat widely at the creature, doing my best to keep its gaping mouth away.

The manticore decides that it would rather not let this confrontation end quickly, and becomes no longer interested in tearing me apart. Two huge paws grip and hurl me back into the open. I try to move my wings, try to flee this monster, only succeeding in hitting the ground hard.

I bitterly remember that I don't have wings anymore. Perhaps this transformation wasn't the best of ideas after all.

Cursing the unicorn's pathetic lack of ability to fly, I dust myself down and assume fighting position but with my legs shaking this time.

I am simply not fast enough; my strength is also pathetic in comparison.

A huge paw fills my vision as the manticore hits me hard across the head, jolting my skeletal structure, knocking me back with crunching sound. Next thing I know I am on the ground, lights popping in my eyes as they struggle to establish reality.

Pull yourself together!

I hear the unmistakable sound of the Queen's voice in my head, clearly not amused with my effort thus far. I can't let it end like this, there has to be some way to beat this thing.

Use your head! There has to be a way!

My eyes snap back into focus and I see the manticore a few metres away, not satisfied with the beating.

Use your head...

I glance upwards at the horn protruding through my filthy brown hair. If only I knew how to use the damn thing. Sure, changelings have one, but our magic is exceptionally weak; only the Queen can utilise magic efficiently. Also, I never had the chance, or need, to use it when I was in the Hive.

Still, it might be my only hope out of here. Anything for the Hive, right?

The manticore moves closer slowly, teasing the moment, enjoying my pain. I shut my eyes, calling some unknown force from within to aid me. The Queen had barely touched on this subject when we received our knowledge from the Hive Mind. I'm rather wishing she had now.

The essence of magic begins to flow through my veins, culminating at the apex of my horn; an orange aura wraps itself around the spiral, growing stronger with every passing moment.

I sense the power building within me, begging to be released. I proceed to direct my glowing horn in the manticore's direction, at his smug face, before releasing the energy.

Nothing.

The aura dissipates into the air around me, floating harmlessly upwards into the sky. The manticore watches it fizz out before turning back to me, raising both paws together in a huge club. I look up at the paw from my uncomfortable position on the ground. I wouldn't have been able to move my body to flee even if I tried.

My life doesn't “flash before my eyes” as the saying goes. Instead, I just see the Queen laughing at me as she tears my mind apart, beckoning death. Is it real? Does she really want her fellow changeling to die?

Either way the message is clear: Failure.

To think I thought I was going to be ruling that Hive someday alongside her.

I close my eyes, willing it to end. Perhaps it's for the best, a changeling more suited to the task at hand can carry it out.

Long live the Hive.

“No, stop!”

I don't register the cry from somewhere as I begin to lose grip on life, slipping into nothingness.

Sleep now young one, it's okay. Let me take you safely away.

I assume it's the Hive Mind nurturing me, telling me everything will be alright, as it slowly pulls the plug on my existence.

***

Answer me, changeling.

...

Answer me. Now.

***

“Ah, it looks as if you're alright. For a moment there, you gave me quite a fright.”

Mission. Manticore. Ponies. Queen.

I bolt upright, brought sharply back into life; something ahead reels back in shock at the sudden movement. Panting, I look down at the bed and see my arms are still coated in red fur.

I'm a pony, not a changeling. Mission isn't over yet. But where am I?

Sweat trickles down my face as I look around the room. I'm in some sort of hut, filled with many colourful books and potions. In front of me is another pony-shaped creature, staring at me with genuine concern.

Despite being exhausted my mind once again clicks into gear:

Zebra, an intelligent and mysterious species that does not often roam these parts. Presuming, that is, I'm near where I passed out against the manticore.

I shudder: I do not want to be reminded of that terrifying creature. Just how had I survived? I can't remember much besides the manticore looming over me, ready to finish me. This zebra must have saved me somehow. But how did she tame the manticore?

She is still looking at me with those turquoise eyes, accompanied with pierced ears and neck. I have to say her fashion sense is quite disturbing.

Now let's see if this zebra can fill me in on what happened.

“Where am I? How did I get here?” I ask, slightly dazed.

“You, young one, are now safe in my home. To think I found you, wandering alone. You see this forest is a dark, dark place. When I found you, you were about to lose your face! However, it seems your luck was very fine. For the one you may call beast, is a good friend of mine!”

The zebra smiles at me, glad I am safe, perhaps wanting me to give thanks for what she did. Instead I just slip back into my own thoughts, ignoring her.

So this zebra was friends with the manticore? What an absurd thought, I wasn't told by the Queen that such a thing was possible. What an odd combination...

“Although, I am not sure what quite happened, you see: my friend does not often harm a pony,” the zebra adds, a puzzled expression forming on her face.

Doesn't harm a pony? The manticore must therefore know my true identity. I can only hope he has no means of communicating with this zebra in their “friendship.”

All in all, I am going to count myself very lucky. The Hive Mind must have definitely been pulling the strings of fate here: it knows I am destined for greater things.

Knowing that it wants me to continue my mission then I better do just that. Okay, now what does this zebra have to offer me?

“What is your profession?” I inquire, gesturing at the books. I hope I don't sound to keen, but I must know if these books can be of use to me.

“I make herbs for ponyfolk like you. Now I must ask, what do you do?” she asks, actually expecting an honest answer.

Herbs? Herbs for common ponies? That won't benefit me in the slightest. As for what I do, I have no intentions of telling her. I'm already finished here.

“Nothing,” I say abruptly.

It seems however that the zebra is not finished with me. She leans closer and studies my face intensely, looking for something.

Surely she can't tell I'm a changeling?

She moves down to my "cutie mark": a unique symbol representing a pony's special talent. Mine is currently three bright, shining stars in a triangle formation. Whatever that means, I do not know.

“My name is Zecora, but yours I am not sure. However, it feels like I have seen that face before,” Zecora says eerily.

I rudely brush her aside and roll off the bed onto my four hooves. I don't have time for this zebra and her creepy ways. I also don't care what she thinks as I doubt I will see her again. Hopefully, she lives near some sort of civilisation, but I have no intention of asking. I just want to be rid of this place and its strong herbal fumes.

I've already wasted a lot of time.

I trot over to the door, leaving a bewildered zebra behind. She is seemingly shocked by my lack of respect for her kind actions. Just as I am about to take my leave, she calls out:

“Stop! I now know who you really are: someone who bears a heavy scar.”

I turn nervously around, expecting the worst. I don't want to start another fight, and not only because this “Zecora” has a manticore as her best friend.

“Twinkletime, a unicorn I know. For the young colt was lost in the Forest, long ago.”

I look up at her face and see them brimming with tears. What is she talking about?

I then remember that I am not a changeling, I am somepony else. So this red unicorn, this “Twinkletime,” is supposedly the pony whose identity I have adopted. One who was apparently taken by the Hive at a young age and preserved all this time so changelings could feed on him.

I guess that makes sense now as to why he looked so traumatised back in the Hive.

It doesn't alarm me knowing that this pony was abducted at a tender age. Nor does it that I tasted that same pony a few cycles ago.

However, this could make things a lot simpler for me. It will be easy to integrate into pony society now as Twinkletime is not accustomed to such things, having been away for so long. That will make up a good excuse for my inexperience with ponykind. My “family” might even have significant connections in the hierarchy that I can exploit.

Well then, Twinkletime I am. For now.

I nod slowly, accepting her words. I must be careful with this, his history is largely unknown to me. I then look shyly down at the ground, forcing tears down my cheeks.

“Now young one, don't be sad. You see, everypony else is glad! For so long you have been alone. Come now, let me take you home. Your mother is still safe and sound, however it seems she is not around. You come from Manehatten, too far away. Let us go to Ponyville, where you might stay.”

I hear her words, then do what I do best: analysing and expanding on information.

Through her partially confusing rhymes I discover that my parents are indeed, still alive. The name Manehatten I recall the Queen referencing once, but not in detail. However, she mentioned Ponyville numerous times. A merry little town that is quite close to Canterlot, the capital. The Queen did say something that raised my interest at the time: some of the citizens were strongly involved in repelling the changeling invasion. She did not give any specific names but regardless, this means two things:

1) They have knowledge of our kind; knowledge which they used to defeat us. Perhaps they have more which I can assimilate once I get there.

2) They will pay for what they did to the Queen.

All of sudden this whole episode seems to be lighting up. I have an identity which is, although flawed, very useful for obtaining what I need. I have a plan: Gain information from the natives of how they managed to subdue us as well as also exploring the great Canterlot Library, home of infinite knowledge. Hopefully I can do all that and perhaps have some little revenge before it is time for me to reunite with my “family.” Then I can continue the process in Manehatten.

The Queen will be pleased.

I should also ask her for all she knows on Twinkletime so I can keep this lie up for longer. Perhaps spin a decent back-story as to why “I” have been missing for so long in the Everfree Forest.

But for now, let's just see what we've got to work with it as it stands.

I allow Zecora to lead me out of the hut, her eyes still shimmering with tears, and lead me into my new life.

Trepidation

Is this right?

A slice of morality intrudes my mind for the first time, begging me to at least it hear it out.

Of course what I am doing is right. I have only taken the form of somepony who died a few cycles ago; I am not being disrespectful as that pony was taken from his life and loved ones. I am actually extending his life and making everypony who knew him happier.

Besides, I couldn't have risked revealing my true identity and if I didn't do what I did, I would almost certainly be dead now. I doubt Zecora would have shown me any sympathy if it was a changeling she found, and not a pony. I may be exploiting his existence, but I must do all I can to fulfil the Queen's wishes.

But because the Queen wants something, does that make it instantly right?

Yes, yes it does.

Zecora leads me through the winding trees along a dirt path which is littered with leaves. Having a fellow creature by my side makes this Forest a lot easier to handle; especially one who knows the place well.

She often glances over her shoulder at me, cautiously checking to see if I'm still following.

At first I think of her as being wary of me, suspecting I will flee or attack when her back is turned. Is she not sure I am who I say I am? Is she leading me to my capture in Ponyville?

It's only after a while do I realise that it's because she cares for me. After all this searching for Twinkletime she's finally found him; she's not going to let him slip away like last time.

She probably thinks of me as the colt who got lost and not the young stallion I now am. I need to stop thinking of me as Twinkletime: I am not a pony, I am a changeling of the Hive doing his duty.

We come to the edge of the forest and a stretch of smooth, green land greets us. I see cottages cluttered in the distance, accompanied by small birds flying in the sky.

Everything seems so... innocent.

Zecora turns to look at me again, perhaps to say something. Instead, she sees my sullen face and simply nods her head, before turning around and trotting on.

I follow at a slightly slower pace, intrigued by my surroundings as they are so different to what I am used to back at the Hive.

The bright, vibrant colours and the general happiness in the air is quite off-putting.

We arrive at the edge of town and I am surprised to see that a welcoming party has already gathered. I cower behind Zecora slightly, genuinely unnerved by all the eyes fixed on me. When I was a changeling I was anonymous amongst the crowd. Now I am the centre of attention and I do not like it one bit.

Also the colours of their manes and fur are again outlandish and difficult to take in immediately. I never even knew some of these colours existed.

They all look so happy to see me. See Twinkletime rather. I have to have a balance between remembering who I really am, and I who I must temporarily be.

The noise from the crowd starts to rise, the ponies eager to talk to their long-lost colt. Fortunately, Zecora calms them down and says that I am “stressed and tired” by the events I have endured. I am actually not that far from her words and I silently thank the zebra for helping me out for the wrong reasons.

“Are you okay?” a voice calls from somewhere amongst the mass of bodies.

I avert my gaze from the ground and peer around Zecora, curious to see who had ignored the silence.

Unfortunately, I cannot see which pony spoke as a sea of smiling faces is all that is before me. Some are still just happy to see Twinkletime; others a bit worried about the ordeal “I've” been through.

Despite not discovering the speaker, I open my mouth slowly, and words of my own come forth.

“Hi...” I mumble, before my words trail off. I look back down at the back of Zecora's hooves, milking the moment for all it's worth.

I feel a twinge of guilt leading these ponies on to believe my lies. Then again, they deserve to be manipulated after their act of sacrilege against the Queen. Although not all of the citizens are to blame, the guilt of the few outweigh the innocence of the many.

Are we all to blame for our Queen's advances on Equestria then?

“Are you alright?” a softer voice asks, interrupting my thoughts. Again, I can not see who spoke.

“I-I-I think so,” I stammer, deliberately slicing my words, still looking down at the ground. I feel pathetic more than anything. Although I feel I have to act like the young colt who was taken, I do not like the sensation of appearing inferior at all.

“What happened out there? How did you survive?” a lower-pitched, male voice asks.

Now this is exactly what I don't want to happen. I have not thought up an excuse for Twinkletime's “absence” as I haven't yet spoken with the Queen. I have to do it right, or I could risk revealing my true identity. However, I think I am doing a reasonable job so far. I doubt they suspect anything is wrong.

The Queen did choose me after all.

“I don't know. Please don't make me go back,” I mutter in a timid fashion, deflecting the question. A few ponies step back, trying not to come across as too forceful, and to give me space. Some sniff slightly as they are touched by my weak words.

They are pitying me and that is exactly what I want. It will lower their guard and they will be calm and gentle towards me for now. Enough to leave me alone and give me some space to research things. Just like how the real Twinkletime would have been, had he returned: feeble and shy. Then, after some time has elapsed, I can come out of my shell and be restored as the the young stallion I am meant to be. Nopony will suspect a thing: they will think it is me being rehabilitated naturally.

Zecora notices how I am uncomfortable talking about these things and acts in a motherly fashion.

“Ponyfolk, please do not rush him. The things he has been through are rather grim. Give Twinkletime time to rest his head, as right now I think all he needs is a bed.”

I feel the slightest bit of warmth for Zecora again. She is ignorant to who I am, perhaps barely knows Twinkletime, yet she treats him as if he is her own offspring.

It is a feeling I have rarely felt towards another creature. What is this feeling anyway? Gratitude? Something more? Nevertheless, she is being kind despite there being nothing for her to gain (that I know of).

“I've got a spare bed in the library he can use!” a unicorn calls out from the front of the pack. The others look slightly startled but begin to nod in agreement at the offer, noting the speaker.

I size the pony up. Her general colour scheme is not as bright as the others. She has a pale, purple coat of fur with a moderate blue mane, streaked with violet and pink. She is of similar size to me, but perhaps a bit older looking. A unicorn, like me, and her cutie mark is similar to mine too: five smaller stars surrounding a big star.

However it is not her appearance that appeals to me most, but the word she just spoke.

Library.

A great place to start. I didn't know this town had a library too and now I have a perfect excuse not to converse with other ponies.

“I like books,” I mutter. I look over at the unicorn and meet her gaze.

The unicorn's ears perk up and her face forms a playful grin: overjoyed that she could potentially have another pony who enjoys books.

“Well then, is it settled?” The mare turns to Zecora as if she is the one auctioning me off.

Zecora turns around to look at me and a single tear trickles down her cheek. I look at her blankly and feel nothing: I am concentrated on going to the library.

Zecora faces the crowd once more and speaks:

“It is not my decision.” She doesn't bother continuing with a rhyme. There is nothing else left to say, after all. She simply turns, and begins the journey home, brushing by me.

I have no cover now; nopony to hide behind. Luckily, I don't have to wait long as an orange earth pony breaks from the crowd and places a comforting hoof on my shoulder.

“It's okay, sugarcube. Twi's the best I tell ya.” She gestures towards the unicorn and I nervously trot over to her, removing any doubt from the crowd's mind about my decision.

“Can I go home?” I ask.

“Sure, come with me, Twinkletime,” Twi responds.

I was actually trying to get more sympathy by asking to go “home” as in my home in Manehatten. It seems as if Twi didn't understand the question properly. No matter, it's irrelevant now: my work here is done.

Twi leads me away from the other ponies and towards my temporary home. The crowd remains silent as we depart, not sure what to say. It all felt a bit surreal to them as these emotions are not common in everyday Ponyville life.

***

We quickly arrive at a huge house, encased in a tree. The design is interesting to say the least.

Twi pushes open the door and welcomes me inside her home.

The first thing I see is some weird creature by the door. A small, purple, bipedal creature with green scales. As I describe it in my head, I realise what it actually is:

A dragon. And a baby one at that.

“Spike meet Twinkletime. Twinkletime meet Spike,” Twi says encouragingly.

“Err, Twilight, who is this?” Spike says, slightly confused.

I look over at Twi. Or Twilight as it now seems. She glances in my direction and we reach an understanding.

“Oh, he's just a friend who needs a home,” she says merrily.

“Oh, hi there, Twinkletime!” Spike exclaims, his trust firmly placed in Twilight.

Does she not trust him? No, that's a stupid thought. It's probably due to his young age that she can't tell him the truth. He is innocent and fresh to the world. Just like Twinkletime was...

“Spike is my number one assistant! Anything you need and he'll be there!” Twilight adds, trying to keep the conversation upbeat.

Spike mutters something inaudible under his breath before speaking: “Yeah, sure, anything you need.” He groans slightly and receives a hostile look from Twilight.

I however, just look on, not too keen to join in on the conversation. I survey the library properly and am pleased to see an abundance of books by the walls. They are all shapes and sizes, holding a variety of topics. Neatly organised too which should prove helpful when I settle down to try and find something useful. But for now, I must get my rest, and speak with the Queen.

“You don't mind if I sleep now? I'm really tired.” I say, discarding the tone I had been using earlier. I don't need it anymore. It can all be explained later as me “being uncomfortable in crowds” later, if necessary.

“Yeah, sure,” Twilight says, slightly taken aback by the shift in formality. “Follow me.” She brings me up to the next floor and towards an enclosure by the window where some beds are situated.

I don't know what to think of a bed. The material it is made of is vastly different to that of a cocoon. Hopefully I will be able to fall asleep and contact the Queen through them. It will most likely be harder with these new surroundings (as well as not having the Queen guiding my mind) to rest.

“This is your bed,” Twilight says, pointing at the one with bland covers and not the starry pattern her bed has.

I pause for a moment, weighing up my responses.

“Thank you,” I finally say, pronouncing the unfamiliar phrase carefully.

“I have to go and fetch some supplies now but I promise we can talk about anything later. Don't worry if you wake up as Spike will be here to help,” Twilight says. She lingers briefly, looking at me once more, before going back down the way we came.

Alone, I curl up under the covers, wrapping myself in them as if the bed actually was a cocoon. It certainly doesn't feel like one though: it just feels different. I can't properly describe the sensation, and I don't intend on waiting to do so.

I close my eyes, not knowing what to expect from my first independent sleep. Well, I hope I can contact the Queen but it still counts as independent. Eager to meet her and continue my mission, I force my mind clear of thoughts.

Perhaps this won't be so bad after all.

***

I open my eyes.

I am in a dimly lit...room? It is comprised of pure darkness and a stream of light filtering down from above. I notice, looking at my hooves, I am still Twinkletime and not a changeling.

Changeling...

A soothing sound echoes around me. She is here.

“My Queen,” I begin, not sure where to direct my voice, “I bring news from my endeavours in the overworld.”

Silence.

I continue. “You may or may not know that I have taken the form of a pony who is quite well known. I think this is a viable method of extracting information from Ponykind. I can use his past to my advantage and nopony will suspect a thing as they are not familiar with “his” character. However, I suspect you are; so I have come to ask for a favour. His name is Twinkletime and I must know of his memories and past. Will you, my Queen, tell me what you know of him? It is necessary for me to continue being an imposter.”

I wait, allowing my words to be taken in and analysed by the Hive Queen.

This is not what I wanted changeling.

What? I wait silently for her to continue, nervousness seeping in.

I know perfectly well what happened. I understand that you were forced into making a decision. But why did you not dispose of the zebra and adopt a new form?

The words ring in my ears as I struggle for a response.

“She had befriended a manticore. An ally I did not wish to cross paths with again. Besides, she appears to be well-known, and therefore hard to dispose of efficiently. I think I made the right decision,” I call out to the darkness.

The black matter vibrates slightly, emotion flaring.

Are you suggesting I am wrong? You are nothing but a worthless changeling. If I could crush you right now I would. Unfortunately, I can't through sleep and it would also alert Ponykind to your presence. You think you are special because I chose you? I could have chosen any changeling! I did not tell you to turn into a former captive. You have weaved a formidable web with your lies. One that complicates things far, far, further than I ever imagined...

Her words sting slightly. She had previously said I was particularly suited for the task, and that I was talented. Surely I'm not just a common changeling, right?

“Forgive me for my rudeness, my Queen. But what is done is done and you should maximise your resources as it stands. It is in your best interests to assist me.”

Is it now? I have nothing to lose; you have everything to lose. I told you not to get to close to these creatures. They will draw you in, bringing you close with their twisted lies before betraying you. You can never be one of them and if you turn your back on me you can't be one of us either.

Her words are startling. Since when had I hinted at betraying the Hive?

“My Queen, I am fully focussed on the Hive and yourself. I have given no signs of helping the ponies as I have resisted contact with most of them. So please, in order for me exploit Twinkletime's position further, can you show me his past?”

The Queen falters and her loud breathing echoes around me, agitated slightly. I have no current explanation as to why.

I know you are being truthful to me... for now. Just remember that the life I offer you is much better than the one they will. They will want “you” to fit in, to be one of that disgusting race. You must resist their temptations.

What is with her doubting my loyalty? Have I done something to suggest that? I sure hope she can read my thoughts right now as I am genuinely perplexed by her implications.

“Thank you. But my Queen, can you grant me access to his memories?”

This is getting slightly annoying now. She keeps evading the topic each time I bring it up, her voice apparently not pleased with my request. Surely she can do this? I know she can, but why is she so reluctant?

Why do you want these so much? To understand your false identity further? To become more like a pony?

The voice becomes sceptical at the end, again doubting my intentions.

“I think they are essential for this to work,” I state.

Fine! You know what, changeling? Take them! You won't like what you find. But you wanted them and since you're running this show now, I will give them to you!

Her outburst startles me slightly and I reel back. A small laugh accompanies her final words as the light is extinguished from above me.

What was that all about? She seems to be quite touchy on the subject. Or maybe she is only being protective of me? Somehow I doubt that but for her to say I “won't like what I find” it can't be pleasant. Just what does his memories hold?

The Queen's laughter grows increasingly louder as the walls of the Hive Mind begin to shake and collapse. The sound becomes distorted and my skin starts stinging and pulsating. I look down at my red fur and see the pelt bubbling over. This whole dimension is being torn apart with me included.

The sound of buzzing appears in my ears and I wince as it is severely distorted and fuzzy. It doesn't take long for me to realise that it is definetly not a natural buzzing sound.

I start to panic, worrying for my safety in this dimension. Surely I can't be hurt in here? Physically at least; psychologically I am not so sure.

The pain reaches an unbearable magnitude and I let out a high-pitched scream. I don't know how I did such a thing but I did. Perhaps it was the traces of pony in me. I lose vision in my eyes and everything cuts to black as all my senses switch off.

A familiar laugh is the last thing I hear before my mind shuts down.

***

Mummy! Where are you?

Left? No.

Right? No.

Just where is she?

I inspect another clump of trees, checking for my mummy. She was right here. Right here.

Next thing I knew, she was gone. I had only stopped to look at the flowers on the way back from Zecora's house. That was it. I didn't run off and I didn't go far from the path either.

So why can't I find her?

Another bush... nope. It's getting dark now: I must hurry and find her.

“Mummy!” I yell at the top of my lungs. The word echoes around me, taunting me, before fading away between the trees.

Twinkletime! Where are you?

I hear the unmistakable sound of my mother's voice; however, I can't tell where it is coming from.

I rush forward blindly in the direction I think the call is from. I don't like the dark and it is becoming really hard to see.

Charging through the bushes, I part the thin branches with the magic from my horn. The light orange glow provides some light but that is not enough to keep my fear of the dark at bay.

Twinkletime...

There it is again!

“I'm coming mum!” It's getting fainter though; I think I am losing her.

I up the pace, slashing wildly with my magic at all that is blocking my path. I was once told I am quite a gifted young unicorn with my magic; I am proving that now with my impressive endurance.

Not looking where I am going, I hit something sticking out of the ground and tumble forward. Hooves flailing, I burst through the undergrowth into...nothing.

I am suspended temporarily mid-air, above a chasm. I manage to glimpse the dark abyss below before my descent begins. Yelling wildly, I shut my eyes as tight as can be as I fall towards my death.

However, I feel my back scrape against the side of something. There is pain, but it slows my fall significantly and I tumble the down the side of the cliff as it flattens out. I land harshly on some rocks and it takes a while for me to realise that I am not actually dead.

Even so, I am covered in cuts and bruises caused by the friction of the jagged side of the cliff. I slowly get to my hooves but my legs buckle, and I sit back down on the ground.

I haven't a clue where I am. I seem to be in some sort of pit but I have no idea where that is close to. All I can think of now is my mother and how sad she will be that I am gone.

There's no point in lying now. She'll never find me here and I can't even get out.

I look up at the cliff edge I fell from and see, with despair, that it is barely visible from here.

“Mum!” I shout again, desperate for the voice to answer; for me to hear her soothing words one more time.

It will be okay, Twinkie. Mummy will never let you go.

Sadly, those words are only in my head this time and are all the more painful now she isn't here to say them.

My hooves are tired, my joints are swollen and my skin is stinging from the wounds. I must rest.

I'll find away to live; I'll find away to see mummy again.

I look around the huge pit and see a small dark cave up ahead across a small river.

I really hate the dark but it isn't going to be much lighter out here. Besides, I don't think I should be out in the open at night. Zecora did say that there are very nasty creatures in this forest.

Oh I wish we'd let her guide us back to the train.

I walk over to to the cave and find a small rock inside, enough to rest my head on at least. I do just that and soon I am looking out into the night sky, my head slightly tilted.

Life is horrible. Why does this forest have to be so mean?

Twinkie...

What was that? Actually, I know what that was, but why can I still hear it?

“Mummy?” I ask shyly, hoping I am not imagining things.

Twinkie...

The voice travels around me before drifting off down a large hole at the back wall of the cave.

I get up and follow it instinctively. Mummy is here after all!

“It's quite dark in there,” I say out loud, looking into the hole.

Still, Mummy will keep me safe once I find her. I rush through, eager to be reunited with my mummy.

The cave gets gradually darker as I make my way through tunnel after tunnel after tunnel. I can tell I'm getting closer as the calls of my name are getting increasingly louder.

Twinkie...

Another fork in the tunnel. I hear the call and choose the left option which takes me downwards.

Mother is so clever for finding such a great hiding place.

Twinkie...

Yes mum, I'm coming. Just wait a second for me to catch up.

Twink...ie...

I know you're tired mum but just wait for a little bit longer. I am almost there.

Twi...

Mum! How am I going to get that cuddle you promised if you don't speak up!

…

"Mum? Mum are you still there?"

Silence. Pitch-black. No Mum.

Wait, what's that?

I see a faint glow in the distance, around a bend in the passageway.

Mum must have already made a fire! Clever Mummy!

I trot forward, aching for that hug I definitely deserve after all this.

I turn the corner and see... Mum?

A pony stands before me, looking in the opposite direction. Her colours in the green glow are unmistakeably that of my Mum.

“Mum! I knew I'd find you again!”

Mum turns around and looks at me. She definitely looks tired and her eyes are twitching slightly.

“Are you okay, Mum? I'm fine, look!”

Mum lets a broad smile fill her face, and hisses.

“Mum?” I ask nervously, the trance beginning to wear off.

Where am I again?

A green fire suddenly erupts around my mother and she vanishes from sight. I cry out in fear for my mother but she does not seem fazed by the events. I hear no sound from her.

I step back in shock as I see a bright, green eye through the flames, watching me. A black, twisted horn erupts from the tip of the fire and I let out a small whimper.

Mummy doesn't have a horn.

Now I scream.

The fire dies down and reveals a horrible, disgusting creature. It lets out a small cackle, before lunging in my direction.

She fails to make contact with me, for my body has already hit the floor, unconscious.

That's it Twinkie. Go to sleep...

Author's Note

Note that the "memory" is told from the perspective from a younger mind. The language is therefore more childish to reflect that.
Also, just thought I should mention that all chapters are constantly going through edits to improve grammar and the like. So things may change slightly.

Tales

“Twinkletime, wake up!”

I become aware of something shaking me. Naturally, I assume the Queen is twisting my body round whilst spraying it with goo. I know that I am about to be taken away and fed on by the other changelings.

Then I hear the voice from somewhere around me. It is neither that of the Queen's nor my mother and a bit of hope enters my system. With all the force I can muster I open one eye, praying that I do not see the Queen changeling before me.

I see something purple and blurred, illuminated by the rays of the sun. With the realisation hitting me, I feel a cold wave wash over my body. The sweat I had produced in my dream clings to me and I struggle to free my clammy skin from the duvet. I want nothing more than to be rid of the cocoon of a bed I slept in.

“Twinkletime, it's okay! Relax, you're not in that forest anymore!” the purple creature yells in my ear.

But I want none of it. I rip off the covers before staggering over to the window and punching it open with my hoof. The window doesn't swing open and instead, I knock one of the panes out. The small fragments of glass fly off as I stick my head by the small opening and gulp down the fresh air, my insides throbbing.

A minute passes as I stare at the sun setting in the distance. I think that Twilight pony is trying to talk to me but my thoughts are elsewhere. After the hysteria dies down, and I firmly cement that I am safe in this house, a stream of questions flood my head:

Just what was that?

I don't feel like who I was before I slipped under those covers. I feel scared and shaken after experiencing first-hand that pony's life. I had asked for memories; not to relive his darkest moments. Worse still, that didn't help me much at all. Although, I did gain some valuable nuggets of information.

“Are you okay!?” Twilight's cries fade back into existence and I turn to face her. Does she really not know the answer to that? Take a good look at my distressed form.

“You were tossing and turning in the bed, whimpering all the while,” Twilight explains

“I'm fine, just a... nightmare,” I say.

“About the forest?” Twilight asks, biting her lip.

I nod. The lie comes easily enough as it was partially true. To tell her that I had dreamed about changelings would just be stupid and very suspicious.

“Do you want to tell somepony about it? You shouldn't keep these things to yourself,” Twilight says nervously.

Better get this over with. It doesn't look like The Queen will be much help to me after all; it can't be that difficult in thinking some story up. Still though, that whole dream encounter has left me very confused.

“Fine,” I say coldly.

“Only tell me what you want to. But just hold on a second, I have to go get a quill to write this down. You'll be fine without me for another minute, right?”

I assume she's trying to be nice or some other pitiful emotion that I don't care for right now. The matter of the fact is that it's actually rather insulting.

I don't say anything – I just turn back around and look out the window again. Twilight takes this as a “yes” and leaves, slowly shutting the door again behind her.

Only tell me what you want to – I doubt that entirely. She wants to know everything; she is even going to get quill and parchment so others can know too. What if I told her just to go away? I doubt she'd write that down.

Anyway, once this whole “initiation” phase is done, I can wander freely through the streets of Ponyville.

Out of nowhere, an owl appears by my side. I flinch and lean back, surprised by how quietly the creature arrived.

It looks at me with two beady eyes and I match them, moving closer so our eyes are about a hoof apart.

What does this thing want? Who even let the vermin in?

“Can I help you?” I ask as if the owl had no right to be here. Which it didn't really.

“Hoo.”

Oh great – not only is it invading my private space, but it's brain-dead.

“Can you speak my language? Or construct an actual sentence of any kind?” Perhaps I could turn him into my drone and play Hive Queen for a bit. It would make sense, considering I no longer have wings to use. Although, that might be seen as sacrilege and I doubt the Queen would approve, given the mood she's currently in.

The owl tilts its head slightly. “Hoo.”

No, it's just plain stupid. Definitely not worthy of my time.

I turn away and look out the window again, impatiently waiting for Twilight's return. The owl however, stretches its wings and flies in front of me, blocking my view. I give a snarl, reminiscent of my changeling self, in its direction.

It doesn't flinch and instead looks me right in the eye again. Maybe there's a bit of intelligence there.

The owl glares at me, daring me to make another move. I almost laugh.

Its message delivered, it shifts its wings, and flies out the small gap in the window and down below.

Just go bother someone else. Although, that was suspicious behaviour. What if it saw through my disguise like the manticore? Just how effective is this change, anyway?

I dismiss the thought. I'm sure I would have been told these things by The Queen. Then again, she's definitely hiding something from me...

“I'm back!” The door bursts open behind me and Twilight bounds in.

She calls me over to lie on the bed while she takes a seat on a wooden chair she brought with her. Whipping out the quill, Twilight prompts me to get comfy.

Get comfy? Is that another joke?

“Excuse me, but I want to make this as formal as possible. Some of the questions may be tedious but bear with me.”

“Okay,” I utter.

“Name?” Twilight looks down at her paper, quill at the ready, levitating in front of her.

I pause. I have no recollection of any second name.

“Twinkletime.”

“Place of residence?”

“Manehatten.”

“Occupation?”

“I was too young at the time the 'incident' occurred to be employed,” I say, thinking up the answer on the spot.

I have to try and avoid questions like these. Any specifics must be avoided – although that was just a logical answer.

Twilight understands and returns to her interview: “Family?”

“Two parents, although only one accompanied me over here. To where 'it' happened.”

Again, I'm carefully avoiding the details and implying otherwise. Nothing can be said for certain; nothing that anypony can look up.

Twilight moves on, not feeling the need to ask any thing further about my family, assuming I have no siblings.

“And what is this 'incident' then?” she asks tentatively.

This was it. I start the speech I had thought up between the pointless questions she had previously asked: “My mother had decided to visit this region, years ago. After some time, we visited the zebra, Zecora, in the Everfree Forest. However, we stayed too long, and were close to missing the train back to Manehatten.”

“Go on,” Twilight says softly, looking briefly upwards from her scribbles on the page. Her facial expression was reassuring but at the same time eager to know more.

I continue: “It was dark, and we refused Zecora's help in getting home. In hindsight, we should have, as we found ourselves separated and lost in the thick trees of the forest. I called her name many times but she didn't respond. Eventually, I found myself resting at a cave at the bottom of some gorge. I...”

I look away and force a few tears down my face. Twilight, of course, takes sympathy and allows me the time to grieve.

“You can stop now, if you want,” she soothes.

Her tone is almost sickening. I preferred it when the Queen showed next to no compassion towards us. I don't need her worthless emotions.

So I ignore her: “I waited for the whole night at the cave mouth, but my mother never came. After a few days, I decided to venture beyond the cave. I lost track of the days as I tried to escape that gorge. The current in the river was too strong; my magic was too weak. I resorted to scaling the side of the cliff. I don't know what hurt more: the rough, sharp rocks, or the everlasting hunger, clawing at my insides. I ate whatever came my way.”

Tears brimmed at Twilight's eyes but she did not stop me.

“I don't know when it was that I finally escaped. My throat was raw from the shouting; my body was raw from the cuts and bruises. I then went looking again for my mother. I was certain at the time that she was still in the forest, looking for me. I guess now, that she wasn't.” I grit my teeth bitterly.

“I don't know what happened exactly from then on. Months and years went by but I didn't find pony nor Mother. I just hid in the bushes from the monsters of Everfree, and switched cave each night as I searched for other ponies. It became pretty much like a cycle.”

I don't why I emphasised that word. I know it's the changeling in me, but it still hadn't come naturally. Twilight is also giving me a weird look, wondering why I did that.

I shrug the impulse off and resume my story: “I became thinner and weaker, not having enough food to last the day. I never reached the edge of the forest despite my best efforts to. It seemed as if once that place had taken hold of me, it never wanted to let me go.

“One night lasted longer than the rest, and I saw lightning in the sky over a part of the forest. I rushed over but, by that time, everypony had left the place, and I was alone again. I wandered briefly through the remains of a castle but there was nothing to feed on and nowhere particularly sheltered. So I continued my search.”

It felt good, throwing in a bit of Equestrian history in there to convince Twilight. Queen Chrysalis had told me of Nightmare Moon's return and how several ponies had vanquished her. It was a rather high-profile event too so I'm sure Twilight knows what I'm referencing.

“One day, a manticore attacked me; I thought it was over. But then this zebra called Zecora came and rescued me, and now here I am. I didn't remember her face at the time, but I do now. The only face I still remember, after all those years... is that of my mother.”

I thought it would be fitting to end on that note. Add a little emotion and more tears to conclude with. Maybe that dream had helped after all – I was able to emphasise with Twinkletime and I didn't know of Zecora's involvement beforehand. It added that crucial bit of detail that gives my tale an authentic feel.

I just hope they buy the point that the whole ordeal was so gruelling that it's had an effect on my mind and more specifically, my memory.

Oh and my cruel nature. I'm not here for fun and games: I left that part of Twinkletime back in the Hive/forest.

Twilight wipes the parchment dry after shedding a fair amount of tears. They certainly carry more volume and emotion than mine; it only confirms, in my mind, that this unicorn is quite pathetic.

I lose the cold state of mind and speak again: “Is that okay?”

“That's fine, Twinkletime. Just give me a moment,” Twilight says. She gets up and leaves the room again without giving me another glance.

I however, am in no mood to wait any longer. I've wasted enough time as it is and I really must check out that library.

***

I saunter downstairs and find myself a chair.

“Oh hi, Twinkletime! Twilight said she had something to do and would be back in a second,” a voice calls from near some books.

I look across the room at the small, purple dragon. “Okay,” I reply before turning my attention back to the books.

Spike, a little surprised by my emotionless response, scratches his head with his claw. Out of the corner of my eye, I see him waddle out of the central room.

I look around at the stacks of books. This actually looked to be quite a decent library.

The presence of another grows near, and I deduce it's the unicorn again.

“Oh, there you are, Twinkletime. I've been looking all ov-”

“Can I read some of your books now?” I cut across. Although it was getting late, I had just slept and had no intention of returning to Chrysalis at this stage. Also I didn't have much intention to be polite right now. I wasn't going to be overly rude – just not show emotion where it wasn't required.

So basically most of the time.

“Umm, sure,” Twilight says. She then grins sheepishly. “I didn't think you'd be this interested in reading. But who am I to complain?”

Twilight moves closer before brandishing hoof around her head, directing my gaze to the sheer abundance of books. “We have quite a lot of books, so you may have trouble finding one you like. That is, unless you like every book! Like me...”

She trails off as I show an apparent lack of attention to the things I either already know, or just don't care about. Like humour. At least, I think that was some form of humour.

But she is right. There are too many books here. I can't just go asking for the book that holds Equestria's secrets and weaknesses. Or the A-Z encyclopedia when it comes to changelings. I have to be subtle.

In answer to my dilemma, something swoops down from above, dropping a thick volume in front of me. I pick it up and look at the cover: Changelings – Who they are, and how to stop them.

A grin stretches across my face: this is exactly the sort of thing that could help – full of valuable information. It would serve well as a pony's perspective of changeling kind.

Although, I doubt this book knows too much or somepony would have “stopped me” by now. Twilight certainly hasn't.

But who had given it to me?

I look suspiciously around and, confirming my suspicions, see that blasted owl again, circling the shelves. Either, he's a changeling too and trying to help me, or he's trying to tell Twilight my true identity.

Either way, he's not going about it the right way and will blow my cover.

Go away, I mouth at the owl perched up on a bookshelf.

“Owlowiscious! That is no way to behave!” Twilight shouts at the owl.

He has a name?

Owlowiscious ignores Twilight and flies back over to me and perches himself on the table next to me.

“Hoo.”

I'm just glad this fool can't talk properly and has some sort of speech impediment issue. I'll have to assume that he isn't a changeling, and is just an idiot trying to expose me. There's no way I can trust him at this stage. If he were a changeling he would have given better signs surely.

Twilight gives “Owlowiscious” a disapproving look before turning her attention back to me.

“Oh, I'm sure Twinkletime doesn't want to read that,” Twilight says, reaching for the thick book.

Oh but I so do.

“Why not? It looks interesting enough,” I say.

“It just seems like a rather odd place to start. Also, changelings are a very complicated species and difficult to understand. They even had to make this new edition, after the recent invasion.” Twilight pauses, wondering whether or not I've heard of the attack on Canterlot.

Oh, really now? Now I'm definitely reading this. That new bit of intelligence I simply have to know.

“Nothing wrong with a bit of that. Besides, you saying I can't handle this book?” I say, challenging Twilight in a playful manner.

Looking back on my words, they're a bit too friendly. I had taken her comment as insulting more than anything. I'm sure I know my own species more than anypony. Still, there may be things we don't know.

I'm willing to learn.

“Oh no," says Twilight, enthusiastically getting into the conversation, “of course not. I was actually-”

“Will you let me read it now?” I again interrupt.

Twilight closes her mouth mid-sentence, visibly confused and upset by my “rudeness”. However, I just look down at the book and turn the front page over with my magic, disregarding her.

Her stare starts to irritate me, prickling my mane, as I begin reading the Contents page of the book. After I reach the bottom of the page, I can't stand it any longer, and raise my head again to meet Twilight's eyes.

Yes? My expression tells her everything she needed to know. Or rather, what I wanted her to know.

“Fine.”

Twilight turns the other way and storms off, presumably looking for Spike.

I don't really care. I know she wants to help but right now 'helping' is leaving me alone.

Why are these ponies so persistent? Back in the Hive, we all knew what we were doing, and we left each other alone.

Does Twilight Sparkle not know her role in pony society? I doubt her role in keep things moving is bothering me all day.

Do they even have a society? I find that out soon enough. Oh and eventually destroy it if that's the case.

Spike knows his role and he isn't even a pony! He's the assistant to Twilight Sparkle. Twilight? I've deduced that she's the librarian of this place. So why is she pestering me? Is that in the job description?

I don't think that I'm that much younger than her. Definitely not young enough for her to treat me like a child, and be this clingy. I doubt she ever even knew Twinkletime until now. Well, he had visited Ponyville a while ago...

I'll find out his friends soon enough. And exploit them.

I lean back in the surprisingly comfy chair and stare at the ceiling. It's late, but not too late to at least make some headway with this book.

The sooner I've read all that is required here, I can leave this library and find somepony else to leach off. Hopefully somepony less irritating.

Maybe she'll give me more space after this whole “Twinkletime's return” stuff has died down.

But now, to that book.

The Hive Mind wills it.

Author's Note

Bit short this one. Not much action either. Took its time too. Sorry :/

Prologue: Emergence

Beyond The Hive

It can be exceptionally easy being a changeling of The Hive. Especially if you are one of the mindless drones who have very little original thoughts besides harvesting others. They are the ones who are completely dependent on the Hive Mind.

They can't think, they can't articulate, they can't feel. They just do.

Fortunately (or unfortunately), I am not a changeling who is completely enveloped by the Hive Mind as of yet. I have some signs of independence and intellect outside the knowledge the Mind provides.

The first thoughts that I experience when emerging from the green membrane of the cocoon are not my own: they are that of the Hive Queen. She searches me, feels me, looking for weaknesses and defects. She probes the inner strands of mind, altering them to her needs whilst placing information here, and thoughts there.

I don't know this at the time: I am just a shell. I am not permitted to think that far.

As her mind disconnects I get a feel for the surroundings. I am in a huge, dark, cylinder-shaped dome, filled with fluorescent green cocoons and changelings flying around: the bulk of the Hive. A cacophony of buzzing fills the room and my head in particular. It is one which never stops, never tires. It doesn't affect me in the slightest: this is our idea of silence.

The sound is beautiful.

My convex eyes survey the cocoons nearby, and I see newborns breaking through the goo, into their new life. They look just as lost as I am; this is true for every changeling. We are just another part of the Queen, another tendril, another extension to her body. We are nothing to her, nothing to anyone. There's a reason why we all look the same.

But we don't mind; I don't mind. We are safe in the company of our Queen and that is all that matters. Sometimes life can be rough but where would we be without her? We're all interdependent and I wouldn't have it any other way.

Although, I'm not sure how I would have it any other way.

A shrieking sound echoes around the dome and the mass of flying changelings parts to allow a figure through: the Queen, Chrysalis. She is a sight to behold: her gangly black horn, her punctured skin, her blue hair hanging over her bright green eyes. Never have I seen something so beautiful and I expect I never will again.

I start to panic, thinking she has come for me. Have I not been deemed worthy? Has she come to dispose of me?

She passes without giving me a moment's glance and I give a sigh of relief. However, she turns and then snarls in my direction, fangs bared. I remember my place: I am in no position to show emotion at this stage.

The Queen lands by one of the newborns and sizes him up. A petty specimen if I do say myself; he is almost half my size. She raises a black deformed hoof and smites him briskly across his small, misshapen head. The power generated is immense and he immediately collapses on the ground, twitching. Another hoof is raised and brought sharply down, crushing the skull.

I look on from my platform. Do I feel aggrieved? Do I feel shocked?

No, I feel hungry. He is just another changeling; he is just another nobody.

I leap forward, like many others, and extend my wings. I glide towards the corpse and stick the landing right at the Queen's feet; I am the first to do so. She looks down again at me, at my eyes, through my eyes. I wince as she peers into my mind once more, analysing me. However, the Queen decides to say nothing, and leaves me to feed while she disposes of the other defects.

I lower my mouth and sink my fangs into the flesh, sucking out the nutrients.

Others join me but their chance to impress had passed. Some even try to make up for it by flying quicker and performing fancy tricks. They only succeed in humiliation and find themselves sliding off the platform into the horde below.

They won't be missed.

We changelings enjoy feeding on love and emotion: it was the first thing I was taught by the Queen when emerging from the cocoon. It is most enjoyable and the thing we truly crave and desire more than anything else. However, we also need our nutrition, and our own bodies are more than capable of providing that. I feel no remorse, no sign of any wrongdoing, as I feast on the dead.

When the corpse is pale and flaccid I raise my head to see that Queen is about to dispose of another. Her horn glows briefly green and I hear a faint click in my head: the sound of someone disconnecting from the Hive Mind. That click to me was a excruciating crack for another. Sure enough, the sound of screaming soon pierces my ears. A changeling has its hands on its head and is screeching as loud as it can. It has gone insane, having been removed from the Mind at such a tender age. Its brain is unstable: anything it tries to process is instantly rejected. Remember what I said about the buzzing in our head being blissful? That buzzing is gone, there is only silence filling that head now. A maddening, deafening silence.

But the silence must be broken; the void must be filled.

The skull weakens as the changeling's head begins to collapse in on itself, preparing to implode.

It does.

The insides spray out in all directions, spattering the vicinity. There isn't much of a mess as the head of a changeling does not hold much. The buzzing around me turns to laughter and I start laughing as well. We all participate in a nice, long, loud laugh. The Queen is laughing too: she started it. I have no control over my actions as the urge to laugh refuses to let go. My brain is clouded by her thoughts, telling me what to do. Telling me what is right.

Why shouldn't I laugh anyway?

As the hilarity draws to a close the Queen departs through the thick of the changelings, back to her throne. I feel the slightest twinge of sympathy for the carcass of the changeling now the Queen has left my mind.

This is soon replaced by greed as I feast on its entrails.

***

The next two cycles in the Hive do not hold much for me. It's called a “cycle” as we do not have night and day to distinguish between. The Hive is completely shut off from the outside; the green glow is the only thing that emits light. It's irrelevant considering we can all see in the dark anyway. The Queen simply tells us, no, forces us to curl up in our cocoon and rest when the time is right.

On the third cycle, I went through the standard procedure a newborn changeling must carry out. The first part was learning our enemy: nearly every other life form that could be harvested for love. This was done by observing a live specimen which this time, happened to be a unicorn. The newborns were all invited to surround the creature; to examine it and analyse it. The unicorn bore a striking resemblance to us and I wondered briefly, whether our species are related.

The creature in question was a red colour with a smooth horn poking through its rough brown hair. It looked completely devoid of emotion, having already been sucked completely of its love and feelings.

We were then ordered to live up to our name and so, all at once, we attempted changing into the pony before us.

I felt my black textures warping and shifting, the particles realigning until a red hue had been created to match the pony before me. My horn began to morph, the structure straightening itself out and the pattern becoming ringed. The transformation was soon complete, and about hundred identical unicorns surrounded one. It didn't take long for his already strained mind to snap as we again broke into cascades of laughter.

It was feeding time again.

***

The final part of our initial training was a “survival of the fittest” scheme. The Queen had been observing us this whole time, looking into our strengths and weaknesses. It was now time to prove that we could carry out what was necessary in the time of need. Being a slightly smarter changeling than the norm was no use if the enemy had you helpless on the ground, begging for mercy.

Our transformation from changeling into a true member of the Hive was all but complete: this was the final test.

The arena itself was situated right at the peak of the Hive: a floating platform formed out of our very own kind. It is very stable due to the Queen having tapped explicitly into their minds, forcing them to keep their shape. The "platform" is however permitted to fly around for added difficulty.

There was only room in the Hive for the best. It wasn't completely self-sustainable so any dead weight was removed at this point. There were about a hundred newborn changelings remaining and that number was about to be cut in half.

The Queen required only the most brutal and intelligent changelings and this was where, at last, we became an unexpendable member of the Hive.

I find myself watching from afar with the rest as, one by one, the changelings duel. Some are disposed of quickly, a mismatch really; some engage in an epic battle that lasts for many minutes. All the while the Queen watches on, making notes on who might perhaps become a leader someday.

It was down to the last ten changelings when it was finally my turn to step forward.

I fly to the edge of the platform, gripping it carefully: I had just witnessed the last changeling slip off from the start, his wings too weak to support the fall. Good riddance, really.

I look over and see my opponent. He looks almost identical to me with the same black figure, full blue eyes, and sharp front teeth protruding from the mouth.

He must be eliminated.

My opponent makes the mistake of trying to impress the audience and more notably, the Queen. This isn't a competition to show off your flash; it is a chance to display your grit to survive.

He dashes forward, beating his wings to reach maximum speed, priming his outstretched teeth and horn for the kill.

It is a hasty attempt to be on the front hoof, trying to catch me off guard. However, he hasn't thought ahead to the consequences such a move might hold: miss and it could prove fatal.

As he approaches I prepare to kick off to the right, tensing my feeble legs. I do so just as he is about to strike: a sharp, swift movement out of the way.

It doesn't hold the intended effect and he manages to turn sharply, cutting out the momentum and preventing himself from falling off the edge.

Impressive.

His hooves scrape against the back of the changelings below but they hold firm through the groans of pain. They know that any changeling who shows particular weakness will be killed off with no remorse.

My opponent, determined to keep the battle short, launches at me again, trying to catch me unaware. He is closer to me this time and I did not expect another attack so quickly. My reactions are quick, but that can only get me so far this time. As I again try to sidestep, his fangs tear through the tissue of my wing.

While his momentum again carries him away, I twist to look at the wound. It is only a small nibble and the hole even looks natural compared to the rest of my wing. However, my hopes of a clean run are gone now. My tactic had been to try and evade all attacks in a slick manner, but this changeling is just too quick. I also notice that the changeling is not tiring as he again rears for another assault.

I have no choice but to attempt to dodge the move again. This time it comes off more cleanly but I am starting to worry. If I am impressed with this changeling's stamina, then who knows what the Queen will think?

I have to turn this around. And fast.

I adopt a more combative stance: bracing my hind legs and leaning forward, preparing to spring into action.

Predictably, he charges again.

I perform another evasive manoeuvre but this time I arch my back whilst turning, and spring forward myself. I do not intend to tear his flesh as I suspect my fangs are not fully developed, as seen by the minor wound he caused. Instead, I decide to lead with my body and the brute of my weight.

I'm guessing he had expected an easy ride, that I was simply going to be on the defensive all day, as he barely has time to register my intentions before we collide. My shoulder hits him side-on and and he is propelled backwards into the air.

After releasing my eyes from the brace of the impact I see him land on the floor, sliding towards the edge. As he disappears from view I gleefully turn around victorious; confident he has met his doom in the abyss.

It seems my confidence was misplaced as the next thing I feel is something collide heavily with my back. I too, am propelled backwards, but quickly try recovering by rotating my body, using my wings to regain balance as I drift away. I pray to the Queen that the slash to my wing does not mess with my wing force and balance.

Luckily it doesn't and my wings catch the air, halting my movement until I am hovering in a fixed spot, facing my opponent. He has a toothed grin on his face, his eyes brimming with satisfaction. Not only did he prove he can fly back from a fall but he used my own method against me by colliding full-on.

I no longer care for looking good in front of the crowd that has assembled around us or The Queen. I just want to end his miserable life. He is a worthy opponent: one that deserves to live and deserves to fight by my side. But that will just make his demise all the more significant and all the more impressive.

He too senses that the end is near, and charges again, ready to deliver the final blow. I do the same. The wind in my ears blocks out everything else, even the Hive Mind; for a moment, I am completely alone. There is no Hive Mind.There is just me and my prey.

In a swift movement I alter my wing pattern ever so slightly, causing me to strafe left. Instead of colliding head on I fly right past him in the opposite direction; however, I tilt my head, forcing my sharp horn through his wing.

I hit a solid part, no gap, and feel the fabric come off on my horn with a tearing sound. Looking back I see a gaping hole in his wing, and threads of it on the platform floor. Wincing in pain, he turns to hiss at me but I'm already charging again, using my wings to attain maximum speed.

The connection is more solid this time, and he is launched back into the air again. He flaps his wings desperately to regain balance but they do not halt him, causing him to smash into the wall of the Hive. His cavity-filled arms offer little purchase as he struggles to grip the side, attempting to prevent his descent. It proves futile and he picks up speed, hurtling to his doom.

I look on safely from the changeling platform, panting heavily. For a first fight we both did well and I am feeling the effects of battle on my fragile body. No other changeling's battle was that physically grinding. Although some had lasted long, it was only due to both participants being afraid to commit. Our confrontation was way more direct and I am struggling to keep my composure, now the adrenaline has gone.

I look up to see that the Hive Queen has barely shifted in her seat, seemingly completely disinterested. I don't expect much from her anyway: she often doesn't praise us changelings, we don't mean much to her after all. Individually of course: collectively we are an integral part of her as well as her greatest weapon.

I spread my tired wings and fly gently over to the other victors. They hold my gaze briefly before turning back to see the remaining changelings duel.

I decide to watch too.

***

It has been one cycle since the initiation duel. Last cycle was for rest; this one is for us to learn our role in the Hive to keep the cycles running smoothly.

I don't expect too much. Not many roles are known to us at the moment as the Hive Queen keeps the secret positions away from the Hive Mind.

The two main roles in the Hive are being a Drone, and being a Worker. The Worker is usually a female assigned to various tasks around the Hive to keep it running smoothly. The Drone is essentially a soldier where the physically superior male changelings are elected to protect the Hive from any attacks. They are also involved in raids or assaults, sometimes even accompanied by the Queen, herself.

Drone is of course the position I am hoping for as well as expecting. There's no denying I performed well in the duel and clearly better than most. But what rank will I be?

We line up in a perfect formation on the main platform, positioned near the Hive exit. I feel the hardened goo beneath me and it makes a pleasant change from actual changeling bodies.

Most changelings in the Hive are now swarming around us, eager to see the new arrivals. The Queen arrives with them and we all bow our heads, careful not to make eye contact.

We all await the unique touch from the Queen, telling us what positions we have been assigned for the rest of our days.

I remain perfectly still, maximising my senses to determine when she is beside me. It isn't long before I feel a ominous hoof descend over me, making contact with my rough skin. I shiver slightly as she touches me: treasuring the moment as this may be the last time I am given the honour to feel the Queen. As she moves on to the adjacent changeling, my senses return, and I search my mind eagerly to find out my role.

I find nothing. Whatever she put there, I cannot find nor feel it.

I begin to panic and my body shakes until the Queen is finished with every changeling. The order is then given for every assigned changeling to leave and eventually, I am the only changeling left on the platform.

Except for the Queen.

I feel her enter my mind and she caresses my brain, telling me where to go to meet her next.

A few moments later, I am alone and free to think. She has left both the platform and my mind.

I wonder briefly what she has in store for me as her message lacked any emotion whatsoever. The logical assumption would be that I have been chosen for a unique position.

She had noticed after all!

I leave the platform and head up to the peak of the Hive, to a secluded area where she told me to meet her.

Excited all the way.

***

This is her own private section of the Hive. Regular changelings don't have that as the only place that belongs to us is the cocoon we were born in. Other than that we are expected to be working all the time as unauthorised rest is not permitted.

I survey my surroundings: I am in room with strange markings on the wall and mysterious objects in the corner. I recognise none of them but I deduce that some are used to feed and strengthen the Hive Mind.

Queen Chrysalis stands before me, her figure superior to mine in every aspect. I remember my place and again bow my head out of respect.

“Sit down,” she hisses, gesturing at a mould in the ground opposite her own. I do as I am told and position myself precariously upon it, before the Queen. I have never heard her speak before and I'm not sure many a changeling has either. The sound is beautiful–one that I am proud to say has graced my ears.

I also note how, this time, she decided against using the Hive Mind to give me the order.

“I grant you permission to speak. Abuse this gift and I will crush you.”

I gulp but the brutal message is understood: I am only to speak when absolutely necessary.

“You may think that I know nothing about you, but that is far from the truth. I remember every changeling; the Hive Mind is a beautiful thing.” She pauses to reflect the matter before turning back to me.

“I saw promising signs from you during the initial process. An intelligent mind contained within a reasonable structure. Perhaps not the strongest, but out of the newborns your ability to think is unrivalled. This is the trait I need for the task at hand.”

I cannot believe what I am hearing: the Queen herself just complimented me! She is also selecting me for a unique task.

This is the best cycle ever!

“Do not make me go back on my words,” Chrysalis warns, noticing the happy expression on my face. “Or I might just feed off this new emotion.”

“Sorry, it's just a big deal to me.”

I instantly regret my words. How could I be so childish?

“If you're going to be like that then I will find another changeling less immature,” Chrysalis snarls.

“I am as mature as any changeling. That was a moment of weakness which won't be repeated,” I say carefully.

“No, it won't. Now, I bet you're wondering what a petty changeling such as yourself has been chosen for?”

Great, it feels like I'm on her bad side now.

Instead of answering with the obligatory “I don't know” I give the question the thought it deserves.

What had I been chosen for?

“Try not to faint whilst participating in this mentally draining task. Besides, it was a rhetorical question,” Chrysalis sneers, noticing my strained expression.

I feel embarrassed: this clearly isn't going too well.

“You have been chosen because I need something and your pitiful life has been put forward on the line to get it. I have no time for such things so you will be sent into Equestria to do it for me. What you bring back will also be accompanied with honour and glory for The Hive.”

I gulp again nervously. Just what did this task entail?

“Now, what do you know about changeling birth?” Chrysalis asks casually.

I pause for a moment, contemplating the question.

“We changelings all come from an egg which has been laid by the Hive Queen. For the egg to be fertilised it must be laid in the body of a male changeling,” I finally say.

I feel uneasy about going into detail as the facts of changeling birth are not pleasant.

The Queen bites off the head of a strong drone, killing him, and lays her eggs in the shell. From the egg grows a tube which expands into a large cocoon, housing the changeling. The cocoon nurtures the changeling until it is ready to live on its own.

After thinking the process through I feel a chill creeping along my dark skin. This isn't what she called me up here for, right?

“Excellent. You know how to recite information you've been told, ” Chrysalis says sarcastically.

It's true, I only know this due to my connection with the Hive Mind.

“What you don't know is that the newborn's characteristics and talents are a direct extension from mine. That if I were to grow two horns then they would do the same.”

I hadn't been told that but I had guessed that we were directly derived from the Hive Queen due to her unique ability to control the Hive Mind. To what extent however, I was unsure.

“Furthermore, it has come to my attention that our current ability is not adequate for us to advance. You might also not know that your birth was a direct result of a failed changeling assault on Equestria. The invasion of the capital failed and a later attempt to infiltrate a native town fell short. We were lucky to return as many changelings as we did and it came to my attention we need something more for our next advance.”

Changeling invasion? Failed? My illusions of an immortal Hive Queen were shattered there and then. She is a Goddess to us yet these ponies of Equestria managed to subdue her? This sacrilege would not pass without action taken: the Goddess must be restored to her former glory and I will do whatever is necessary.

“What do you ask of me?” I inquire formally. This was serious business now.

“To go where no changeling has ever gone before, to go the darkest corners of the filth that is Equestria. You must do this without your identity being revealed, without anyone realising who you truly are. You will bring something back that will make me stronger, may it be potion, spell or knowledge. I can then extend this supplement to the rest of the Hive. Every changeling will be fortified and next invasion we will be victorious. It might be an ancient weapon or perhaps simply a weakness in their anatomy we can exploit,” Chrysalis says, licking her lips. "You will report on your findings each night through the Mind."

So that was my mission. To enter Equestria as one of those disgusting creatures, to live amongst them without detection. To bring knowledge and power back to The Hive and my Queen.

“That is all that needs be said. You will depart next cycle. Do not disappoint me. Do not disappoint the Hive.”

She gets up and flies away, leaving me alone on the pedestal, thinking this through. However her voice remains in my head, reverberating around the inside.

Do not disappoint me. Do not disappoint The Hive.