The door opened silently, a deep green glow pulsed out of the room like a throbbing heart. The sound of the beat was familiar. It was the sound that thumped in the back of his head during the night when everything was dead silent and he could hear the sound of rustling leaves outside his window. It was not his heart. He could feel that thudding in his chest. The one that beat in the recesses of his head was faster, as if something was pressing it into working overtime.
For months he had felt the beating in his head every night when he fought the nightmares for a few hours of sleep. He heard it every time his day slowed down. It was easy to keep moving during the day, doing this or that to keep his mind occupied, but at night that pulsing drove him inch by battled inch towards insanity.
It was not until he felt his sanity would break that he found a clue to the throbbing. He had learned it was a calling, a signal from somepony, or some creature seeking him out. That had cost him several nights of sleep. The thought that someone could reach into his mind like this again and frustrate him so was almost worse than the insistent thumping.
Finally, four weeks ago he had given in, unable to take it anymore. He simply let his hooves take him where he believed the pulsing wanted him to go. It had taken him long out of Canterlot, away from his duties in the city, beyond the Everfree Forest and to the edges of the land of Equestria where the darkness swelled waiting and judging the time to strike. Only a few ponies knew that just beyond the borders watched by their beloved princesses the darkness that once swallowed their lands still prowled. Every once and a while one attempted to steal the light of Equestria. They all failed before they barely started, unable to cope under the pressure of the Princess Sisters’ magic. Some, though, the strongest, endured into the land to attempt havoc on the ponies that called Equestria home. He could count four times in recent years that the darkness had risen up in Equestria and only one of those times had it come from a source that did not already have roots there.
That one time Equestria had been saved thanks to a little arrogance, a terrible oversight and if he could be so bold, a deus ex machina-like event. He had been in Canterlot for that event. Like everyone else he had been powerless to stop the invasion. Looking back from where he stood now in front of this pulsing green light he was not sure why he even tried. If this was where his destiny was leading why had he struggled so much then? What had he been trying to protect? A defeated leader turned twice to stone, a friendship that existed simply because it was currently convenient or some parasite like feelings of loyalty and connection to his duty?
Standing before the doors he felt this was a turning point. He knew what was beyond that door. He knew who waited beyond it, what she would want. Yet, he knew what was behind him. Peace, security, and an easy life where he did his duty, pretended to be friends with a bookworm and let life simply slip by in a boring haze. A part of him, a part larger than he would have expected before he was standing here pulled him back toward that boring life. It caused him to hesitate in the green glow.
“What are you doing?” a silky voice that sounded like what he would imagine a snake’s slither would sound like if it was voice. It was alluring, but hard and blunt at the same time. But that was not what caught his ear. It was the twinge of sadness and anxiety that he felt in that fast beating pulse. The owner of this voice was pressed for some reason; something drove her forward too fast. He could hear it in those four words and his chest swelled with something...was it pity?
These emotions were still something new to him, something he was just starting to pick up in his boring life. This one, though, he had never felt, but it stung like something had been hollowed out of his chest.
He stepped into the room intent on confronting the being inside. Either this pulse that shook his ear drums now would win over and he would accept its will, or those faint strings that started to twine together from his old life would prove stronger than even he expected and he would be drawn into yet another conflict that staged his real self against the fictional one he invent for convenience.
Last time he had not had enough time to solve this dilemma of his being before it was quite rudely solved for him by six ponies from some small village and their magical necklaces.
“You tell me,” he replied as calm and coolly as he could with the pulse of that beat threatening to cleave his head in two.
In the middle of a room, barren but for the cobwebs beginning to form, sat a single being, a pony by first glance, but not a pony. He could not mistake her. She was a changeling, one of his own. One still linked to a hive, or at least was until very recently. She was bigger than the other changelings he had seen, yet in this barren room she seemed small like a filly lost in a market trying to find her parents. Against his chest ached unfamiliarly.
It must have been quite a while since she had any love to feed on, which was odd for a hive Changeling. She was already wasting away. Her time was very limited, measurable in days he would guess.
Dark Cerulean stringy hair drooped down her face and pooled on the ground before her. Large orbs of light green almost lime coloured looked threateningly at him while fangs were bared and a long black horn that looked bent and deformed by pony standards was jutted toward him. He cheeks were hollow and dark bags under her eyes were only visibly by the puffy lines. She seemed weak, starved and on her last breathe. As a changeling her magic should have been limited and without love, sustaining her being next to impossible. Only a Queen of a hive had what ponies would consider real magic. Real magic at least to ponies meant anything beyond simply being able to take another’s shape.
He could do a little real magic thanks to his own affinity to the power of discord, or at least he could until his horn had been broken the day the Crystal Empire had disappeared. Now he could barely hold more than one shape that was not his original and his magic formed wings were out of the question.
“I know you,” he said looking closely at her. The first time he had seen her he barely got more than glance at her in the chaos at Canterlot.
The Changeling Queen stood tall and upright as if trying to return to a dignified pose she had been used to all her life. There was a light tremble in her knees, though, and the despondent glaze that lurked behind her green orbs and flattened ears did not help her in anyway.
“I am Chrysalis,” she said, looking straight at him. At her full height she was a little taller than him thanks to her long legs. “...Queen of the Changelings.”
He whistled slightly impressed. It was more for her than anything. It looked as if she needed some recognition of that title. “Of all the Changelings. Times sure have changed.”
“Do you doubt me?” Chrysalis asked suddenly a lit with rage. “You, a mere pony, doubt me.”
“Do you doubt yourself?” he asked. No queen of a changeling hive would be so alone as this one was right now. He would have heard, sensed, smelled more changelings in the air, but there was nothing in this empty excuse for a castle long forgotten by history and time. In this barren room this “queen” seemed more filly playing at grandeur.
“You don’t seem to be one anymore,” he continued. “I've never met a Queen of a hive that had no hive. What happened to them?”
“I am a Queen,” Chrysalis repeated forcefully, but despondent.
“I know who you are,” he said. “I also know you brought me here. I want to know why. I do not belong to a hive, not for centuries. I should not even have these triggers left in my system. They were supposed to be removed. That was our arrangement. Wings and loyalty.”
“I did not bring you here. Why would I bring a pony here? For what purpose would you serve me? I can tell you have no love in your heart, so you are not even good for food,” Chrysalis snapped at him.
“The pulsing in my head brought me here and you are here,” he snapped. The thumping was grating at his nerves. He had to find a way to stop this now. Waiting for this Queen to simply waste away was not within his current level of patience. “That is all I need to know.”
“I’ve spared you enough time, pony,” Chrysalis said, turning away from him. “Go back to you princess and your love and kindness.”
He stomped his hooves in frustration as the pounding in his head grew. Somehow, and he was not sure how, it was linked to the mood of this Changeling Queen. Patience was not exactly one of his strong suits and having what felt like a buffalo stampede rushing through his head did not make thinking up ways to stop the pain any easier.
“You know what, I’m tired of this already,” he said, stepping forward. Slowly he released the magic that that held his pony form in place. Like a veil of rain washing paint away his body began to change. His grey coat turned black, his nuzzle narrowed and his teeth grew. A red and orange mane turned neon green and once teal eyes were now a hard solid red. The only thing that stayed the same was his broken horn; no amount of changeling magic could undo that encounter with the Crystal King.
“You are...one of...like me...” Chrysalis stammered in shock. Before his true form her haughty attitude disappeared and was replaced with what he thought was a sense of sad longing. Maybe this Queen really was all alone and yearned for her former place. Was that why she called him here?
This new revelation brought a flood of old memories. He had seen that look before on that pony’s face when she thought he was not looking. Was the reason she clung so tightly to him because she longed for something beyond his comprehension. Was it this love Chrysalis accused him of not possessing? What kind of love was it, though? He had read many books while trying to learn to fit in with ponies and they mentioned so many types of love it made his head swirl and he just gave up. Love was not a feeling necessary to completing his original goal.
“A changeling?” he asked looking back at his flank. Gone was his fake shield protecting a crescent moon cutie mark. His neon green insect-like wings were still nowhere to be found. There was no tear marks, no scars, just smooth blackness where wings had once sprouted.
“What magic is this?” Chrysalis accused, on her guard once again. Her contorted horn began to glow green as she prepared some magic to use against him.
“I am a changeling, same as you, Queen Chrysalis. As I said you called me here. I had no intention of meeting you.”
“What hive do you belong to?” Chrysalis asked. “There should be no other hives this close to Equestria anymore.” She denied his existence with a fierce bark, but he could sense beyond her façade a lingering hope. Another hive, meant another chance, or so he figured.
“I belong to no hive.”
Chrysalis stomped her front hooves down and bared her fangs at him. “Impossible! Changelings can’t survive without a hive, especially not a lowly minion like you. You dare lie to me, a Queen of the Changelings!”
“Can you really be Queen without a hive?” he asked.
“I am still a Queen.”
“Well, I will tell you I have no hive. I have not had a hive for a thousand years,” he declared.
“A thousand years...but then you are a heretic a betrayer,” Chrysalis screeched. “You sold your soul to that Draconequus!”
“I made a deal for my freedom. I betrayed no one.”
“How have you survived without feeding on love?”
“Love comes in many forms, Queen,” he said. “It is easy to come by with the power of chaos.”
“You are an abomination!” Chrysalis howled her horn lighting up yet again. She hurled a bolt of green light at him. The spell hit him and threw him across the barren room. Cobwebs curled around his body as he broke through them.
Luckily, it was just a simple force spell, nothing serious. It still hurt and it took a second for him to get back to his hooves.
“About as much as a Queen without a hive is,” he replied, wincing as he gingerly put down his left front hoof. It stung a little, but it did not feel like anything was seriously wrong.
Chrysalis charged her horn again, this time by the way her withered face scrunched in concentration it was a powerful one, or at least as powerful a spell as Queen without a hive could muster. It would surely hurt, but whatever the spell it was no threat to him in her current state. What concerned him more was the thumping in his head that was now at a level that had him wincing with every beat. He just wanted to hide in a dark, cold room sealed away from the sounds of the world until it passed.
It would not pass, though, until he could find some way to stop this hiveless Queen from sending out that signal.
“Listen I have two choices here,” he said through winces as he grabbed his head with one hoof. “I need this pulsing to stop or it is going to drive me insane, so either you stay here and waste away from lack of love or you hear me out and listen to my offer. I guess I can always just kill you too. I guess there is really three choices.”
Chrysalis looked at him as if he had gone insane. When she licked her lips that for the first time he noticed were quivering, he knew he had her.
“What is this plan, heretic?” she asked cautiously, shying away from him.
“You come back to Equestria with me and you live as a pony,” he said. He was not sure why he was making this offer. It was insane to invite this one back into the pony kingdom, but right now he could find no other solution. At least then if she tried to pull this signal stuff again he would know where she was.
“What would I do in Equestria? I already tried to take it twice. That is why I do not have a hive anymore. It is a useless pursuit even if I had my hive, now it is impossible,” Chrysalis scoffed. “It is suicide.”
“Staying here is suicide,” he replied. “And I said nothing of conquest.”
“Then what does Equestria hold for a Queen of the Changelings?” There was a curiosity in her voice. Some part of her at least was intrigued by his offer.
He had to stop to question himself once again. This was his chance to escape that rut that awaited him in Canterlot. This was a Queen of the Changelings, surely with a little effort he could get her a new hive and then his job of freeing his leader would not look so impossible anymore. Then why was he offering to throw all that away for his boring false existence?
“Boredom and peace,” he finally said. “Nothing special. You will not be someone special. You will just be another pony in a kingdom of ponies. Your life will be boring and regular, but you will be happy.”
“And how I am supposed to survive in a life like that? How would I get the love we need to survive without taking it from some pony?” Chrysalis asked skeptically. The fact she was asking was a sign that she was at least considering it, even if it was only a passing thought.
“You hivelings are so close minded,” he huffed. “Love comes in many different forms and each of them is enough to sustain us. Love does not have to be taken from somepony, it can be given freely.” He stepped toward Chyrsalis.
“How do you get love then?”
“I can already tell you are going to hate the word, but friendship,” he said. “I feed on the love that comes from friendship, but from my experience there is the love of duty, the love finding something you simply enjoy, the love of being included and a whole bunch more that I don’t even want to think about. Any of these can sustain you, without anyone ever knowing.”
“So you steal the love of ‘friendship.’” Chrysalis cringed at the word.
“How is it they put it in Canterlot? Friendship is Magic, or something like that,” he said. The words left a dry taste in his mouth. “As long as someone holds the love of friendship for you, you can get all the food you need.”
“And when that love is drained from that friend, then what?” Chrysalis asked. “We are just back here where we started, withering away.”
He had to stop to think about that one. Why was it that the love bred from friendship did not dry up like the love normally stolen by hive changelings? At first he thought it was an answer beyond his ability to fathom, and then Star Frost appeared among the pulsing. Star Frost, the boring unicorn pony that hid away in a small library in Canterlot, too shy to make real friends, so she retreated to the world created by fiction to find friends. She was supposed to be a convenient source of sustenance. It was supposed to be a transaction, a fair trade. He got what he needed to survive and she got to experience what having a “real” friend was.
Yet when he thought of her the answer popped into his head as if he had known it all along, but had simply ignored it because it was more convenient for his plans to do so.
“Not if the love is given freely. Friendship given freely and not taken by force does not have a finite number. It grows as time passes rather than diminishes. A true friend can sustain you for the rest of your life,” he declared with some confusion and confidence.
“A true friend...” Chrysalis said muttering off into thought. She looked around the barren room and then back at him. “And you think I can find a true friend?”
“More likely one will find you,” he said. “That’s how it happened for me. If you ever tell her, though, I’ll deny it.”
“Do I really have a choice?” Chrysalis asked, still not completely convinced and he could understand why. If their places had been reversed he was not sure he would believe his words either. It was not the Changeling way, not the way of the hive, but there was not hive anymore, for either of them.
“It is either try or wither away,” he said.
Chrysalis paced the barren room and he could tell she was weighing her options, which were not many. Finally she advanced toward him. As she did her body began to change. Following a green glowing line that moved up the entirely of the body, her coat turned grey, her hair once long and stringy stayed long but curled slightly and turned a bright green. Her eyes brightened too and her horn straightened, but her wings disappeared.
“I will try for this happiness you offer,” she said tentatively.
In his head the pulsing stopped and he released a breath of relief. For the first time in months his head was just silent and still.
Author's Note
Work this on a whim one night for the EQD flash fiction challenge. I hope anyone reading it liked it.
