Reflection, Hope, and Love

by ZeroCore

Rating: teen
Tags: Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Alternate Universe, Changelings, Queen Chrysalis
Length: 3430

Chrysalis reflects on her past as a violent Changeling Queen, how she has changed, what she has learned, and the hope that she has for her newborn children

Chrysalis has been the Queen of the Changelings a long time. She rose to power, expanded her Swarm, and then, through her arrogance, fell from grace and saw her Swarm destroyed. Now, one of the last of her kind, she reflects on her life, who she used to be, who she has become, and her hope she has for the future, for she has become more than just a new individual, she's become a mother as well.

Published 2013-07-30 03:50:02 UTC
Last updated 2013-07-30 03:50:02 UTC

Reflection, Hope, and Love

In the past, I barely had any understanding of Equestria. Its history, its people, its customs... they were so alien to me, about as alien as my kind is to them. All I could see in that land, all I could focus on is the boundless love its people had for it, for each other, and for seemingly all life that lived there. All I wanted was it as my prize—my greatest triumph—and a means to feed my race for all eternity.

I was blind.

In my quest for dominance, despite my talent for subversion and deceit, I became hungry for more power, more energy from Equestria's love. I became drunk on it, and it nearly drove my kind to extinction. My disguise fell apart as I fell from grace, my horde extinguished by the very essence of the emotion we sought to have for ourselves.

I sighed to myself, letting my tired body recline next to a smooth stone on the cavern wall around me. It is the last refuge in the world for my kind, our strongholds and lairs undoubtedly destroyed and pillaged by now. We were nearly made extinct; all save a scant few of my Swarm now lie dead, their corpses probably buried in unfamiliar soil if the victors in our conflict had seen it fit to bury them at all. Two drones sat in the corner, their appearances stoic and attentive. At first glance I should have been depressed, broken, and looking forward to nothing but a dreary, painful, shattered existence, but despite it all I felt something else; hope. It was as though there may yet be a future for my kind, a way to start over again. A tear slowly slid down my face as I looked down toward my side. In the far end of the room was a resin-coated mass of green orbs, each rocking and pulsating gently as they hung inside their gelatinous cocoons. Next to me, half asleep with their muzzle gently pressed to my side, was a dull gray nymph, her chitin still soft, her wings still too small to fly, and her horn still little more than a small cone on her head.

Her name is Aurora, my first-born child and first of her siblings to hatch, and I am her mother. My name is Chrysalis, the Changeling Queen, and until a few moments ago, one of the last Changelings alive.

I ruled over my Swarm for a great many years, my Hive once the pinnacle of strength among the secretive, hidden races of the world. We are Changelings, creatures that live on emotion; love is literally the food that keeps our bodies alive, and the energy that fuels our magical abilities. We obtained our vital power by stealing it from others, by shape shifting into the form of a lover, a friend, or a family member, and then slowly absorbing and feasting on the love of those whom we have seduced until all that is left is a mindless husk, shambling about until their energies recover.

We are, by necessity, secretive and hidden from the other beings of the world. The few who know of us live in fear of our power, hiding away from us or hunting us into the wilds like horrid abominations.

I used to feel rage toward them, hating them for hating us. It seemed to me as if the world despised us merely for doing what we had to do to survive, as if we had ever had the choice to consume anything other than love. It kept me from resting at times, the scorn the world heaped on us with each passing day. I wanted to get back at them, to take vengeance upon a world that hated those who only wished to survive, and horded their love to themselves and kinds similar to theirs and theirs alone. I grew restless over it, despite my own Queen's—my own mother's—caution.

When I was younger, as I came to power, I was aggressive, constantly angry for the way I thought the world perceived my kind. I grew cold, spiteful, and jealous of the safe, secure life our prey would lead, loving each other, and all most forms of life in this realm, save the Changelings of course. My mother, the Queen before me, led our Swarm with a calm guidance and grace that kept us safe, only letting our hunters out to gather love on a basis of absolute need. She eventually fell ill and passed away, and as the Swarm mourned her loss I arose to power, ascending to the throne as quickly as the opportunity arose.

I promised power... I promised resource beyond measure... I promised a world where we would finally be acknowledged as a sentient race and not a pack of monsters. My idealism and zeal made the Swarm quickly conform to my will, bending around my hoof with only the slightest whisper of encouragement. We spread outward rapidly, consuming other lands in what I thought of as a glorious yet silent wave, entire towns impersonated, drained, and left behind as suddenly as their love was stolen from them, the little feeling that remained dissolving into sadness and emptiness.

It scares me now, the way I used to look back on my conquests with pride, relishing the feeling of power and dominion I held over our territory. I didn't understand the fear the scant few who discovered us had. All I knew is that, to my current and undoubtedly future regret, I enjoyed seeing that intimidated look in their eyes the few times one of them did see my true form. I couldn't understand it then, but those who saw me weren't fearing just for themselves, but for their own children, their “foals”, as they called them.

I wince when I think it over these days, imaging myself now not as the mighty conqueror, but instead picturing myself in the place of those who I've impersonated. I imagine the shock of seeing a lithe, jet-black Changeling Queen towering over me, eyes aglow with power and a fanged smile glaring down at them. I think of the green fire I'd summon to drag them off to wherever I'd please, and forcibly drain the love from their minds, and then from the minds of their families, friends... and children.

As my little nymph coos and squirms beside me, I feel guilt. I feel guilt for all those whose parents I've impersonated, whose families I've broken in the name of my own desire for power. It makes me cry and howl inside to myself at times as, in my mind, I imagine the younger me staring down at Aurora, fangs bared and magic alight...

No.

I was her once, but not anymore. She—that younger, arrogant, wretched version of me—died on that day along with the Swarm she'd corrupted. She perished on the day that we had invaded Canterlot, Equestria's capital city.

I learned of Canterlot, and the nation of Equestria, through information my scouts had gathered from traveling merchants. I became intrigued, and ordered scouts to investigate. I waited for weeks, my impatient nature clawing at my nerves. Weeks passed, and finally patience gave way to anger. I remember storming out of my lair, two guards following me, and flying off to the nation's border. With a flash of green fire I donned a hastily-made disguise—that of a rather deformed dragon—and ventured into its borders.

I almost gawked at what I saw. All around me were the same creatures—ponies—living together nigh perfect harmony. Love was abundant, if not infinite, across the landscape, and to make matters even better, there was even a Princess of theirs, a warm pink-colored being, who was the literal embodiment of love itself.

I salivated at the idea of making it mine, so much so that I took it as a sort of challenge. I shed my disguise, returned to my lair, gathered my army, and planned the invasion of Canterlot. I was hasty, sloppy, but I didn't care. I could only think of the power this nation held, and how it could feed my Swarm for eternity. No longer would we be looked down upon as monsters, no, we would rule a whole country; I was convinced of it...

The rest is history.

I abducted their Princess of love—Cadence, I think her name was—and impersonated her. The fact that she was to be wed soon was all the better; I could take her place and slowly replace all of their society with my Changelings. I seduced her groom-to-be, tried to deal with her pesky soon-to-be sister-in-law, only to have my arrogance and lust for power come crashing down around me. My disguise was exposed, my plan foiled, yet with the strength I'd stolen from their love I thought myself invincible. I was determined to take the nation, no matter what the cost. Instead of a retreat, I had my horde invade, only to be defeated by the same Princess I'd impersonated. The combined strength of the love she had for her groom and his love for her let loose a blast of power that sent ever last member of my Swarm careening out of the city, and out into the wilderness beyond.

Most died in the shock wave. The rest perished upon impact in the canyons of the badlands, save for myself and my two drones.

I remember being outraged at first, shocked at my defeat. All in that one moment I'd lost my Swarm, the energy I'd stolen, and to my dismay, the sense of invulnerability I'd so foolishly nurtured all those years. What I regret the most about my first reactions after the blast is that I only cared about the lost battle. The loss of my entire Swarm didn't even register in my mind; all I wanted was revenge on Equestria's ponies for foiling my plans, that Princess and her violet-coated sister-in-law especially. I tried to plot and scheme, thinking of some way to get back at them, but slowly I discovered that there was no one there to command. All I could scream orders to were to the two surviving drones, myself, and the desolate wind around us.

And all I did was let myself become frustrated and further enraged.

It alarms me how much I've changed in such a short time from then.

We wandered for months after that, drifting past various roads and trails through the desert, hiding occasionally as passing caravans traveled past us. We barely scraped enough love from them to survive. With each passing month I became less active, my arrogance quickly filed away by the sudden exposure to the world around me. I needed to make myself secretive, stealthy, and quiet. I had to hide, less I be exposed again and sent to the gallows. It was humbling, seeing the words my mother had told me become so real so very quickly.

I became much more careful, but I slowly learned that eventually a mistake would be made, I had to slip up somewhere. One night I let my disguise down just as a guard happened to be patrolling the caravan. The drones and I escaped, flying over the sand dunes into a forest the caravan had been going towards. It was there we found the grotto we now hide in, and here we have rested ever since.

I began to distance myself from my drones. I felt fallen, in every sense one could be. I'd lost everything, and now, unless there was another, even more secretive Swarm somewhere out there in the world, we were the last Changelings... anywhere. My own insolence and will to dominate brought us to ruin. I felt unworthy—and as far as I'm concerned, rightly so—of being Queen, and undeserving of my drones' presence. At first, they remained by my side, stoic as ever, but after the first few weeks, their demeanor softened. They would lie next to me, even though I did not deserve them. They would sit next to me in this small cave, even when I told them to stay away. I admit I enjoyed their company, even though all I wanted was to be by myself.

Eventually the drones caught on, and ever since have given me some distance. For the next month I felt entirely alone, the whole of the world having forsaken me. I thought of it as a penance, and one I was willing to pay for bringing such destruction upon my own people. At times I sobbed to myself, turning away so the drones would not see me. The few times I felt calm I began to think, not scheme, or plot, but just think. I wondered if there was any way to save my kind, to bring the Changelings back into the world. I didn't want my race to die on account of my selfishness.

I wished, deeply and genuinely, to restore what I had undone.

For a few weeks things went on as they had; I laid down on my side, turning away from the drones, and only moving when I heard the scant noises of caravans outside, occasionally venturing towards the cave's surface to collect a few passing scraps of love from travelers along the nearby road. Something began to feel different though on the times when I did move; I began to feel slowly heavier and more tired with each step I took. I even found it harder to fly after a while. At first I thought I was becoming ill, another annoyance on my mind, but as time passed I noticed the very physical changes I was going through, namely my abdomen becoming quite round and large.

I was carrying them, my daughter Aurora, along with the eggs of her siblings; my future children.

I was in disbelief at first. My drones had never lied down with me... like this... as far as I knew. I was nervous, and curious as to how this happened, but all very quickly the feeling fled my mind. I felt tears in my eyes, only this time they were sweet, not bitter. I reclined on the smooth rocky slab I'd grown used to lying down on, the weight of my mid section feeling, although uncomfortable, reassuring. I felt content; despite my past, all the wrong I'd caused, all the violence, seduction, and terror, I'd been given the second chance I so longed for. I would see my kind live again, if even only in a small number, and the way to that future I so badly desired was clear to me, along with so much else that I had questioned for so long.

I was to be a mother.

Months passed, and I grew larger still. I almost chuckled to myself, realizing how much I had changed, outside and within. At the end of the year it happened; it was finally time. I'll never forget the pain. It was horrendous, like I was being pulled apart from inside. I screamed louder than I had ever done before, my voice echoing back through the cave. My drones aided me as best they could, but the pain was still mine alone to bear.

Having my children... it wasn't mere pain, but the essence of pain. I knew I must endure it though, not only as punishment for the pain I'd cause in the past, but so that I might see my Swarm resurrected. After a long, exhausting ordeal, it was done; my eggs had been laid. With my drones to help me, I moved them to a safe end of the room, a small hollow next to a rocky outcropping in the far end of the cave. With some effort, I managed to spin a cocoon, the gelatinous substance holding them, my eggs, safely in place against the hollow's back wall.

I fell to the ground immediately after, my drones fetching me water from a nearby pool almost instantly after I collapsed. I was tired, exhausted, and still in quite a state of discomfort, but I smiled.

“Twenty-three...” I remember saying, counting the eggs.

Twenty-three. Twenty-three more Changelings in this world. A number that had remained low and stagnant for far too long finally increased. I knew I was merely one Queen, a disgraced one at that, but that moment, seeing my children for the first time, gave me hope beyond measure, and a feeling of happiness inside; my kind would live again, and I would care for them as best I could to ensure they never would know the fate of their predecessors. If there was any trace of the old me left on that day, it shattered like glass; I understood now. I knew not only why the ponies of the world had feared us, but what hope was, what a family was, and the lengths one would go through to protect their kind.

In the following weeks, I noticed the eggs grow bigger. Eventually, on a cold day, one burst open with a small squelch. I remember rushing over to the hollow, and to my delight saw a small nymph desperately trying to stand on her thin, frail legs. As she stood, she looked at me, her eyes a pure blue. Her head tilted to the side and she smiled, staring at me as only a newborn could lovingly stare at their mother. I gently picked her up, hugging her softly as she nuzzled me, a few small clicks escaping her mouth.

In my joy I almost missed something; one of my drones noticed a light outside. I turned towards the cave's entrance, my eyes slightly wider as I noticed a ribbon of light flowing from the north. It was beautiful, and seemed to almost radiate love from its long, flowing form. I felt satisfied inside, more than I ever had stealing love from ponies. My drones seemed quite sated as well. I felt twice blessed that day; I had seen a beautiful, refreshing light, and even better, I finally was able to hold my daughter for the first time. I decided on her name right then and there.

“Aurora,” I said, gently looking down at the nymph.

Now we arrive where my story began; my drones sitting down, looking at my daughter and I with their calm, caring gaze, my beautiful daughter asleep at my side... and my mind at ease, knowing that my species would not perish from this world. It would take time, and much effort, but I must, no, I will, raise them. I will care for my young, and try to learn more about the world in order to help them avoid the trap of arrogance and hate I fell into so deeply.

My eggs still hang in their cocoon on the wall, the green orbs having swollen in size, each one about ready to hatch, and, to my surprise, anticipation, and joy... I've noticed something else. I'm not entirely sure yet, but I think I might be slightly more round than usual once again. Perhaps Aurora will have more younger siblings sooner than I thought.

I feel myself sighing ever now and then, not sadly, but contently. I am a different Queen than the one I was all that time ago, and I'm glad for it. I'm glad to have become who I am, and to have the children I do. My Hive, my family, will grow with time, and despite the pain I know I'll surely go through, I await it eagerly. Perhaps my children will reform our Swarm someday. Perhaps they'll be able to finally bring our kind out of the haze of fear and hate that we have been shrouded in for so long. Maybe, just maybe, there will be a future for them in this world. If there is even a shred of a chance of that happening, I will do what I can to make it happen.

My children are my Swarm.

My Swarm is my family.

And I understand now why anyone would be afraid if something threatened them, why I would want them to always be safe and secure, for just as the ponies of Equestria care for their young.

No matter how much I will tell them this in the years to come—and I know I will tell them, time and again—I'll never be able to have my children truly understand just how much their mother cares for them.

They are my happiness.

I love them, more than anyone else ever could.