It was the silence that caught his attention, the silence of something large falling. It was as if the entire world held its breath for that moment.
The entire world were silent, except the slaves within the falling building, though thankfully their screams were short and muffled by the distance.
Mirror looked over just in time to catch that last second before the slave-tower hit the ground.
And, when it did, the world shook with the impact. Even at the distance of half a city, Mirror could feel the tremors in the ground beneath his hooves.
It scared him, not for the event which had transpired, but what lay beneath it, its cause. Civil war.
Ever since the loss at Canterlot, things had become tense within the changeling city. Chrysalis had established herself as a strong queen; she had made the population into a mighty fighting force, and then she lost.
For one who had relied on strength, who had told the changelings that, with her, they were invincible, the throne had suddenly become dangerously unstable.
So, while the ponies celebrated, the city struggled against itself as some changelings saw their chance to take the throne from her, either for themselves or just to remove her.
Chrysalis herself was aware of this, of course, and she had taken steps to combat the situation. Dangerous, terrifying steps. As her guards patrolled the streets, they were given simple orders: find her enemies by any means, and remove them from sight.
The changeling population was no longer a united force but a battlefield whereupon the Queen and her enemies now fought.
Those who wished the Queen’s demise disrupted the city, mainly by keeping slaves from the siphoning tower, for it was there the changelings food was drained from slaves.
It was that which had just occurred, the resistance doing their best to stop the slaves. Burning the crops, as it were.
The fact that the crops were sentient was irrelevant. To the changelings, the slaves were food, and they were treated as such.
To Mirror, this was all terrifying. He was on neither side, he was trying to remain neutral, but, unfortunately, this was not really seen as a viable option from either of the warring factions.
So he was left to balance on a thin thread as he tried to forge his own life while each step towards his goal threatened to make either side see him as an enemy.
Mirror stepped through the ‘door’ which separated his little lair from the hundreds of others in the area.
It was not a big place, little more then a place to sleep and rest, but it was his. This was where he was allowed to be himself while not restrained to either side of the conflict or, more honestly, by the ways of the changelings.
He sighed and lay down in the nest, resting his head on its edge as he stared towards the hanging drape which hid him from the rest of the world.
He really wished he could stay out of the city, find a nice little house and live there, but, these days, the Queen did not take kindly to deserters. So, here he stayed, working like any other drone and hoping that the turmoil would soon be over, one way or another.
Another sigh and he shifted, the green-tinted wings on his back fluttering before becoming still. Might as well try to sleep.
He got no further then that before the drape was pulled to the side by magic and a large, armored changeling put her hoof inside, far enough to stare at him.
"You!" She didn’t scream, but she didn’t need to "Identify yourself!"
She stared at him, and, for several moments, he was sure his heart had stopped - not out of a sudden love for a soldier, but out of terror. Had they come for him? Did the Queen’s soldiers believe him to be a traitor?
He didn’t really wish to know, didn’t dare answer, but he was given no choice as she put another hoof inside, towering above him “Identify yourself! Now!”
"M-Mirror" He managed to give his name, his heart returning to beating, apparently trying to make up for lost time as it played a drum-whirl against his ribcage.
The soldier gave him a long look and then pulled out what seemed like a set of documents, levitating it as she briefly flipped through it before finding what she was looking for.
A single page was pulled out, and she looked at it, at him, then the paper again, before she ended up looking at him. And then she gave him a smile.
"Continue your good work, drone" She put the paper back into the pile before stepping back, pulling the papers along with her as she left. Then, as suddenly as she’d come, he was alone once more.
Alone and terrified, for this had not calmed his fear for his life in the slightest.
He was not sure how long it was before he could fall asleep, and even his attempts to calm himself did little good.
But, in the end, he managed to drift off to sleep. A light, worried sleep, where he shifted and moved with constant nightmares but sleep nonetheless.
The next day was hardly any better for Mirror, as he made his way towards the siphoning tower where he worked.
His troubled sleep had left him tired, wishing he could pass out back in his lair more than anything else, but such an act might draw unwanted attention.
So, off to work he went, although halfway there he found himself forced to fly over a large gap in the road - another attempt to disrupt the city.
In the end, he reached the tower which was guarded by a pair of large changelings from the queen. They stared at him as he passed, but they knew who he was and, thus, allowed him to pass unharmed into the tower.
Stepping inside was like stepping through the gate from one world to another and stepping into a dimension of nightmares.
The purpose of the siphoning towers were to drain the love from otherwise useless slaves. This love would then be split up to feed the changeling population.
The reason for this was simple, having each changeling feed from a pony would not only be time-consuming and less effective but it would be an logistical nightmare.
But the towers, and the ponies inside, needed attention. Cells must be cleaned and waste must be thrown out - be it filth or corpses.
The first thing that hit him when he passed through the door was the smell, the horrible, sickly stench which, when mixed with the aura of love, was revolting. It was like adding a thick, sweet scent of sugar to a sewer, making even the most hardened changeling ready to throw up at first.
Mirror was used to it by now. He had been through it so many times he now only flinched.
The tower itself was hollow and had no individual floor above the very bottom. This allowed anyone to look up and see the dozens of cells which had been built into the walls, as well as the central ‘pillar’ of arcane magic.
This pillar gathered the harvested love from each cell and moved it to the top where it was stored into enchanted bottles.
Even a glance told him how many slaves were in the tower today as, from each active cell, a thin thread of pink light, drained love, connected to the pillar.
After taking a deep breath and coughing as it filled him with the stench, he made his way to one of the cells and looked inside to see if he was needed.
Inside was a rather old unicorn, his four legs strapped to the wall with metal bonds.
He was staring into a complicated sphere of arcane machinery on the other wall, a thread of pink coming from his open mouth and leading over to the machine, which then relayed them to the pillar.
The unicorn did not show any sign that he had noticed Mirror’s presence, they never did. Love Poison kept their attention to the machine draining them, and perhaps that was for the very best. This way, they were not aware of what was happening to them. They were not aware of the state of their own bodies.
Mirror stepped inside the cell with ease, taking care not to disrupt the treads of love or step in the filth on the floor as he took a closer look on the old pony.
Old, malnourished and sick, he was clearly a pony close to death. By this point, not even the most skilled doctor could save him as, beyond his body’s condition, he was also covered in wounds.
The metal bonds had scraped into the skin, opening them up for infections; infections which now sat so deep that the limbs would have to be amputated.
All of the slavers were in varying states of dying. Those who were brought here were soon to die in one way or another regardless, so the changelings did not waste precious resources in keeping a dying slave alive for another week.
But, for now, the pony lived, and he would get his treatment, however poor it might be.
Mirror made his way back out, stopping in the cell’s opening and looking at a bottle of thick, mud-like goo which served as food for the slaves. It might not be good or even healthy, but it kept them alive for now, and that was good enough.
The goo was nearly full, signaling that the pony had not been fed. That was alright, feeding the slaves was the duty which Mirror found the most rewarding, or at least the one which he did not despise as much
He used magic to lift the bottle and move the top to the mouth of the pony who, by some deep-seated instinct, suckled weakly on the bottle of food.
Mirror looked away as he slowly fed the pony, trying to ignore the being less than hoof’s length away from him.
Soon, he was done, the contents of the bottle now gone and Mirror placed it back down before stepping out on the spiraled path which ran along the wall. He moved toward the next cell, but he did not reach it before there was a shout from bellow, drawing his attention.
"Mirror!" Another changeling shouted and, when seeing he got Mirror’s attention, continued "New one here. Take care of it!" the changeling made a gesture towards a pony lying on the floor, before turning around and leaving.
Mirror flew down and looked at their newest guest; a purple unicorn which only lay on the ground as he stepped closer, panting quickly.
She was pale beneath the coat, quite obviously rather ill, and he could see that she was bathing in sweat. It was obvious why she had been brought here.
A part of him wished he could help, that he could try and help her get better, but, if he did, he would risk his own life - and he did not dare to risk it.
So, without a word, he picked up the rope which made for a make-shift leash and tugged it, making the slave stand on unsteady hooves and follow him.
She didn’t protest, being too broken and too weak to be able to do anything but follow. She was led up the spiraled path to the first free cell he found and dragged in there.
A part of him was relieved that he was the one here to take her. Some of the others liked to play with their food before strapping them up - a thought which made Mirror shudder. He’d never be able to do that himself. They might be slaves and food but… just no.
He took a deep breath and begun to strap her to the wall, attaching limb after limb to the metal bonds. The mare doing nothing to resist him, whether because she could not or would not, he did not know.
But, as he finished she spoke, quietly and weakly.
"I don’t want… Please… Kill?" She looked at him pleadingly, and he understood. Feelings of guilt filled his chest.
But his fear was stronger. There was nothing he could do without endangering himself, and he was not that brave.
He grabbed a bottle and opened it, looking at the Love Poison inside. Swallowing nervously, he levitated it to her lips, tilting it slightly.
"Drink this" He watched her and, as she did not obey, he made a small nudge "Drink it… it’s poison"
That got her attention and, after a glance toward him, she drank greedily from it between panting breaths.
He made sure that, when he moved the bottle away. she looked at the device on the wall which trapped her to it.
As he started it with a gentle, magical nudge, a thread of love came from her mouth and soon joined the others around the pillar.
Mirror stepped away, resisting the urge to throw the bottle against the wall, and, instead, just levitating it to its holder.
He hated his job. He hated it so much, but he had no choice.
Author's Note
This was originally a gift to Mirror-mod, and was proof-read by OmniAla
