Chapter 1 A Working Wanting
The generations know but have forgotten
Left stagnant their dreams have turned rotten
Do we do as they have done, or risk revolution?
Going further, are we ready for evolution?
I know only that change is our nature
Suffering and struggling is our nurture
-Unattributed Changeling
He was a changeling, worker caste to be more specific. If ever there was a lower existence then it would probably be the fungus farmed by the worker caste. There was no mistaking his vital insignificance, his role helped feed the young yet he could be easily replaced by the next newborn that rose to age. Worse yet, he had reached the age where fungus no longer could satisfy and like all the Changeling race, he need the magical energies of love to sustain. The lowly love ration of a worker left him constantly teetering on the edge of starvation. He contemplated this and more as he compacted the putrid composts that the fungus grew upon.
Using a spark of magic from his horn, he floated a book in between his front legs. In reading at least he found an escape. The Myth of Sisyphus by Albert Camel, he realized the irony as he endlessly rolled big balls of composts.
He was pulled from his contemplative trance by a nudge to his flank from his female co-worker. “Grub, Overseer Tarsi is coming, best looking like you’re working.”
“Thanks, Arista.” He replied as he quickly began shoveling the fungus piles with his hooves. He hid his book under a pile of fungus.
“Greetings Grub,” said a gangly changeling behind him. Tarsi was the Overseer for his work unit. Her carapace was covered in grime and slime however Grub knew she had not worked a day in her life. Tiny vestigial wings sprouted from her black back but she was incapable of flight.
“Hail to you Overseer,” said Arista.
“I wasn’t talking to you, maggot.” Tarsi spat. Her gross hygiene was complemented by her equally grotesque personality. She turned to Grub. “Grub, your wings are looking lovely this evening.”
Wings were a sign of social status. Worker caste members were typically born absent of those appendages, even her tiny ones were kept with pride. Grub was blessed with a powerful pair but cursed in that they attracted her attention.
Grub, nevertheless, forced his mouth into a smile as he replied. “Thank you, Overseer.”
Tarsi’s words wormed in their slime. “Grub, your hard work is to be rewarded. Would you like to accompany me for refreshment?” She flicked the dirty strands of her tail across his nose.
Grub struggled to hold his vomit within his stomach as he proffered his most polite tone. “Thank you Overseer, but my job is not yet done.”
Tarsi recoiled in scorn. “Fine, if you’re so focused on working then you wouldn’t mind working without a break!”
Arista stuck her tongue out as the arrogant Overseer stomped away.
Slowly the brown piles of compost had been stirred and shifted to bigger piles. Grub sighed as their work near completion.
Arista poked him with a hoof. “Why didn’t you go for that? Marry her and I bet you’ll have your work shifts chopped in half.”
“She’d use me as a status symbol and pretend she married a soldier.”
His coworker frowned. “She’ll only make your life more miserable if you keep refusing her.”
“I swear by the monarchs of old, dead and cold, one day she’ll win. I’ll let the Quarray eels eat me on that day.”
“Marry me then.”
Grub inspected Arista for a moment. She was a wingless worker but by no means ugly. For a Changeling, she was rather solidly built; as sturdy as a creature with holes in its legs could be. Yet, she was his friend, and he recognized a good opportunity for a prank. Lowering the lids to his eyes, he gave her his best seductive look.
His pause caused her to become nervous. She laughed. “I’m joking, stupid.”
He gave her a wry smile. “So was I.”
Grub wondered about their favorite game of chicken. It led him to wonder about chickens. He’d never seen one, yet they were supposed to be cowardly. How many of their expressions and phrases had been borrowed from the overworld he’d only heard of.
“Hey Grub! Mr. Grub! Worthless worm!”
Grub snapped out of his daydream. He bellowed. “What?!”
Arista grinned at him, showing her pearly fangs. “Work’s done. Come on, let’s get dinner!”
Away from the worker’s burrowing chambers, they entered the chamber of the main city. Glowbug lanterns illuminated their streets. The hive’s honeycomb homes were open with no doors while the richer Changelings had curtains. The green bioluminescent paste colored and lit the entrances to these small dwellings. The cavern ceiling stretched forth seemingly endlessly upwards, embed with shining blue gems. Grub remembered in his history lessons that the ceiling was designed after the ancient sky of his ancestors before their banishment.
Weaving through the streets, they found the ration stand. A Changeling server was handing out trays of white fungus along with tiny vials of a viscous liquid. In them was soma, a liquid that could contain emotions. The liquid was crystal clear by nature but when imbued with love it shifted red. As the line diminished in twos and threes, Arista and Grub received their vials along with their tray of white fungus. They found seats in the blackened stone benches.
Arista looked at the barely pink liquid that filled he vial. “Curse them, they’ve been diluting the rations again. There’s less love here than before.”
Grub poured his soma over his fungus like gravy. He’d heard it told by a soldier that had sampled overworld food that their fungus had the consistency of mashed potatoes. Yet more things he would never experience, he thought as he shrugged and replied.. “At least it’s red-ish.”
His coworker nodded. “Remember when those idiots extracted anger and put it in the soma. There was a riot.”
“I don’t think it was entirely the contaminated food… every Changeling has been antsy. There’s been less and less to go around.”
“They left my fungus cold again,” said Arista pouting. She pushed her tray towards Grub. “You think you could—”
Grub rolled his eyes and nodded. He looked about to see if anyone was watching. When he saw no one was interested, he sparked his horn, sending a small fireball into Arista’s meal.
“Nice and hot.” Arista took a deep bite, savoring the taste.
“Hush, workers aren’t supposed to know magic.”
Arista smiled. “They aren’t supposed to read either.”
Grub whispered. “Yeah, because some books teach magic.”
As he ate from his tray, vaguely warm feelings filled his stomach. They disappeared too soon with his last bite and he was left wanting more.
“Hear ye! Hear ye, Princess Chrysalis returns!” A voice rang through the streets.
Arista gobbled the rest of her food. “Let’s check it out.”
Crowds of cheering Changelings gathered in the streets, watching green cocoons be wheeled forth in carts. Escorting the carts were members of the soldier caste. The tips of their dark steel ebony spears glimmered in the light of glowbug lanterns. The parade was a welcome distraction.
A Changeling crier led the procession. “Hear ye! Hear ye! Chrysalis returns! Your Warrior Princess brings you the plunder of conquest! Cities of the overworld fell to her martial prowess! Food for the colony!”
“Fly me up; I can’t see,” said Arista.
“One airlift coming up.” Grub nodded. He wrapped his hooves around Arista and lifted her up. Beating his wings harder, he gained altitude. He flew to rooftop and set her down.
“I’m so glad I have a friend with wide wings. I get the best views,” said Arista as she patted Grub's translucent extensions.
“I’m only friend you have with wings.” Grub grumbled.
They observed the parade from their vantage point. Some particularly large cocoons caught their attention. Inside were the forms of creatures that seemed two legged.
“They took down diamond dogs,” said Grub, pointing with his hoof.
Arista frowned as she stared at the glowing lights of the parade. “I remember the parade out of the colony was longer. A good chunk of the overworld expeditionary forces didn’t return.”
“Yeah, but look at those that did.” Grub pointed out to the Changeling soldiers’ gleaming carapaces. The heavy armored troopers’ ebony armor shone even brighter. The proud soldiers seemed well fed and trudged along without weariness. Grub's swelled with admiration and jealousy of the warriors.
“You know if you beg and plead, one of the Princesses might take you as a vassal.”
“I wouldn’t want any Princess,” said Grub.
In the middle of the parade, there was an elegantly adorned palanquin carried by strongest and largest Changelings. It was made of black wood, a luxury of no less than royalty. A thin shroud covered it and the passenger box. Seen only in silhouette was Princess Chrysalis.
Chrysalis sat impatiently on her pillow. The throngs of cheering Changelings were but shadows against her shroud. She motioned to her palanquin to stop.
A soldier flew next to her. “My Princess, what is it?”
“Lietenant Husk, remove the shroud. I wish to gaze upon my subjects.”
The attendant whispered. “It is for your safety. Rumors abound of an assassination plot.”
She commanded more sternly. “Remove the shroud; I have faced diamond dog armies and dragon lords. I don’t fear daggers in the dark.”
“Yes my Princess.”
He turned towards the palanquin. His blue eyes widened as he saw the shroud lift. The cheering Changelings roared louder as they beheld their Princess. He still could only just make out her figure in the distance.
Arista laughed. “Grub, you can’t be serious. You like Chrysalis?”
“What if I do.” He defied his friend.
“Princess Beelzeba is favored by the Queen and the infiltrator caste.”
“Beelzeba just sits. I haven’t seen her take a single action.”
“Princess Cerci is closest to the Captains and the caste Commanders.”
“That’s because she sleeps with them— all of them.”
“Still, comparatively, Chrysalis is least likely to win the crown. You don’t want to jump onto a sinking ship.”
Grub snapped at Arista’s skepticism. “Bah! You haven’t been topside, you don’t even know what a ship looks like. I think Chrysalis is beautiful; she leads troops into battle. She’s actually trying to do something about the famine.”
“Your funeral, once Beelzeba wins the crown she’ll kill the competition to the last Changeling. If Cerci wins she’ll do worse.”
He sighed in powerlessness. “It’s not like I’ll impress any of them to accept me. I’m not even soldier caste.”
“You could be a soldier. You were good enough with a spear when we played as nymphs. Plus you do all that reading. Few workers or soldiers can boast about that.”
He shook his head. “How many Changelings do you know break out of their caste?”
Arista rubbed his green mane. “That’s right, embrace the hopelessness. We’re workers and we’ll die workers.”
“Your dark humor isn’t helping.” In defeat, he perched his head against the stone guard rail of the roof. Level with his head he saw another glint in the darkness. Across from his rooftop he spied another Changeling. The other Changeling seemed to be assembling a strange mechanism.
“Stay here, something is going on.”
Grub flew across to the other roof. Upon closer inspection, the Changeling in question was a wingless worker. The worker was too focused upon looking down a tube device mounted atop his strange mechanism to notice.
“Hey what are you doing?”
The worker jumped up. His weapon discharged with a twang. The surprised worker moved from the device.
Chrysalis waved to her adoring subjects. In the skyline, she noticed a blur as a Changeling flew over the rooftops. Suddenly a bolt hit her palanquin, digging into the wood. She jumped away from the bolt that nearly skewered her.
“Assassin!” Cried one of her guards.
“Find the enemy!” Shouted another.
The soldiers lowered their spears and scoured the crowd for the source of the projectile.
“Protect the Princess!” Guards beat their wings and hovered in front of Chrysalis.
Chrysalis calmly plucked the bolt from the woodwork of her carriage. She noticed the dripping liquid from tip. “Poison?” She inferred. Her eyes narrowed with suspicion as she focused on the two forms above her on the rooftop.
Grub faced the wingless worker. “You tried to kill Princess Chrysalis!”
“You! You messed everything up! My mate is dead now!” Screamed the worker.
“What?” said Grub, baffled.
“Arghh!” The worker levitated a dagger and caught it in his mouth. He lunged for Grub.
“Wait stop!” Grub dodged the worker’s swings. One of the swipes caused crimson to streak across his hooves. His senses became sharp. Using his own magic, he pulled the dagger away from the worker. Relentlessly the worker swung his hooves at Grub. A hoof smacked heavily against his chest.
The worker attacked with despondent rage. “My wife is dead now! They’ll kill her because I failed!”
“Who?!” Grub tried to dodge.
Still magically holding the dagger, he was helpless as the worker impaled himself against it.
Grub stammered at he looked at bleeding Changeling. In the worker’s dying gasp, he splashed red against Grub's face. In shock, Grub stood still as he was overcome by what he had done.
He barely noticed as a squad of Changelings surrounded him.
“Seize him!” Cried an officer in armor.
The soldiers wrapped him in an immobilizing magical sheath. He was helpless as he was floated down onto the streets.
Grub was slammed into the stone floor of the street and held there by magical pressure. He noticed the dead body of the assassin was also brought with him.
A Changeling from the guard reported. “Princess, we found one assassin dead. We captured this one.”
Chrysalis spoke with authority. “The weapon in question?”
The string, metal, and wood mechanism was brought forth in front of the Princess. She inspected it closely. “A Griffin crossbow with an Equestrian telescope? This is a rare import.”
At the edge of Chrysalis protective ring of soldiers, a Changeling begged to be heard. “Please! He’s not an assassin! He was trying to stop the real one!” Arista was held back by crossed spears.
“Princess, shall we detain her also?” Asked a guard.
“No, let her through,” said Chrysalis.
Arista bowed as she was released. “I witnessed it! Grub is a hero! He tried to stop that assassin!” Arista pointed to the dead worker.
A guard whispered in Chrysalis’ ear. “It could be a deception.”
“No, I witnessed him fly across the roof myself. The other one is a wingless worker.” Chrysalis turned to the guards who held Grub. “Release him.”
Grub gasped as he was released from the choking pressure of the guards’ magical detainment. He only gasped further when he saw Princess Chrysalis in front of him. He immediately fell to his hooves and bowed.
“Arise.” She beckoned kindly.
Grub complied and stiffened as he beheld her. The Princess was only slightly larger than her most muscled soldier. A Changelings’ wings weren’t naturally riddled with holes like their hooves. Sometimes through malnutrition holes would develop however the way which her’s were cut there was no mistaking. Chrysalis’ wounded wings were battle scars for her people. Her dark azure hair was like a light curtain to her face, fierce emerald eyes peered through the strands. There was a brutal elegance to her form.
“Soldier, you have saved my life. Prithee, soldier, tell me your noble name.”
Grub lowered his head shamefully. “I am a worker and my name is Grub.”
Several of Chrysalis’ guards snorted in disdain.
“Very well, Grub, you have my favor.” Chrysalis moved past her guards.
Grub nearly fell over when the Princess kissed his forehead. He felt empowered. The warm feeling reminded him of his diluted meals but so much stronger. The sensation filled him with heat.
She spoke sadly. “Tis a taste of true love, taken from the dying breath of a soldier upon the field of battle. The energy was refined by a soldier who bled for me, a kiss of life and death.” Chrysalis touched Grub's bleeding wound.
Chrysalis’ guards were stunned as was Grub. He bowed again. “I am not worthy.”
“As a Princess of the Changeling people, I shall bestow upon you a boon. Name your reward.”
“Wasn’t that it?” asked Grub confused.
“It was but a kiss.” Chrysalis laughed. “Now name something more definite.”
“I wish only to serve you, Princess Chrysalis.”
“This evening come by my keep, I shall grant you your wish.” She turned toward her soldiers. “To the palace, we fly. I am late to greet my mother—” Her last words were filled with anger. “and my sisters.”
With a buzz, Chrysalis and her guards departed.
The palace walkway was flanked by fully armored soldiers. The stone steps were cold and foreboding as Princess Chrysalis walked up them. She could fly but old customs forbade it. She sighed, calming herself before she reached the top.
Seated in the center throne was a greater Changeling with green strands for a mane, a robust horn, and large crown. Beside her were two other Changelings, the same size as Chrysalis. One had bright yellow hair and sat closest to the Queen, she wore a sly smile. The other had a deep purple mane; she exuded arrogance and confidence.
Chrysalis bowed before her; the largest of the changelings. “Queen Mother Gossamer, forgive me for my lateness, I was attacked on the way here.” Chrysalis glared at her sisters.
“Why are you looking at me? It was no doubt a vengeful widower of one the soldiers you’ve lead to their deaths.” Dismissed the golden maned Princess.
“Avert your eyes, sister. They make accusations your mouth cannot support.” Spoke the purple maned Princess.
Queen Gossamer spoke. “Daughter, rest assured. A full investigation shall be launched. Now explain yourself.”
Chrysalis nodded. “I return from my expeditions. I bring food to feed our people.”
The yellow maned Princess spoke in false concern and pouted. “Our little sister Chrysalis returns with so few of her soldiers. I was so worried.” The mocking mask of her fake face boiled Chrysalis’ anger.
Chrysalis stood firm. “Sacrifices had to be made. The food crisis demands it.”
“A crisis? Chrysy, I see no crisis?” The gilded Changeling drank a highly concentrated red vial equivalent to months’ worth of rations.
“The hive has grown. The population isn’t sustainable.” She retorted.
The purple maned changeling spoke. “Sister Cerci, don’t disparage Chrysalis for losing soldiers. I’m sure each loss was worthy. She can explain as much to their mated ones.”
Chrysalis lowered her head slightly in self-doubt. “Beezleba, I saw no other choice.”
“Is that so?” Beezleba bit bitterly. “Your foolish publicity stunts have cost the colony greatly.”
She countered. “Glory? You think I risked life and limb for glory?!”
Cerci twirled her golden hair whimsically. “Oh, but Beezleba, I see Chrysy’s cruel reasoning. She thinks it’s a wonderful way of ridding the surplus population. The more expeditions she goes on the less there is to feed.”
It was the final straw. Her horn glowed, ready for combat. “You yellow maggot!” Chrysalis blasted her voice. “I will rend flesh from your—”
“SILENCE!” Their Queen projected her voice physically and mentally. The Royal Changeling voice was a power to be feared and respected.
“Queen Gossamer.” All three sisters spoke softly their monarch’s name as they quieted.
“Cerci, Beezleba, do not antagonize your sister. I am sure she understands what was sacrificed. I recall last we spoke she had a lieutenant standing beside her.”
Chrysalis rubbed her hooves as she looked besides her at nothing.
Gossamer continued. “Her harvest was humble, on the scales I do not feel it is even to our loss.”
Cerci grinned while Beezleba remained stoically observing. Chrysalis lowered her head further in shame.
“However Chrysalis’ expeditions were with good intentions. In times of talk, she took action which is more than can be said of others.”
Cerci frowned as her mother’s gaze passed her. Beezleba remained calm.
“I am sorry, mother. I shall try harder.” Chrysalis bowed.
Gossamer’s words were tender but firm. “No more, dear daughter. Outright conquest is not our people’s way. We shall rely upon the time tested methods.”
Beezleba nodded. “My infiltrators should be granted more resources.”
Cerci interjected. “We require better resource management; Caste Commanders should be given more power.”
“One more expedition!” Chrysalis blurted out.
Cerci laughed and even Beezleba smiled.
Chrysalis stood up tall to defend her words. “One more expedition… either I return with a harvest worthy of colony… or I shall not return at all.”
“Our little sister, I think she should be granted a second chance.” Cerci smiled deviously.
“I concur.” Beezleba nodded. “If she is so confident in her abilities then certainly.”
Gossamer sighed. “Princess Chrysalis, do you understand what you are offering?”
“Yes.”
Grub walked listless through the streets for a while. Arista walked with him. He was stunned to silence.
Arista leaned against Grub. “Wow, the favor of a princess! Aren’t you special?”
“I killed another worker.”
“Yeah, an assassin that was going to kill the Princess.”
“I suppose…”
“How was the kiss?”
“It was like nothing I’ve ever felt,” said Grub. He recalled the feeling fondly. He felt nothing would satisfy ever again.
“So are you going?” Arista poked Grub with her hoof.
“What?”
“You’ve been awestruck for this past hour. They’re turning in the glowbug-lamps. It’s evening. You’ve got a date with a Princess.” Arista teased.
“I guess… but if I become her vassal wouldn’t this mean good bye?” Grub turned toward Arista.
She shook her head. “I don’t know what we have together… however I couldn’t bear to hold you back. I’ve always felt you were worth more.”
“I read of it in a book. I believe it is called friendship.”
“I know, smart flank. I read too.”
Grub's brows were raised in surprise. “Reading is forbidden to worker caste, isn’t that what you always said?”
“Yeah, I blame you for that. Good bye… my friend.”
“You’re so certain I’ll be accepted. I won’t betray your faith. If I get to the top, I’ll bring you up too.”
She frowned. “Good bye, Grub.”
Grub walked a ways, weaving through the districts. The Princesses had separate keeps. Chrysalis had located her home adjacent to the soldier barracks. The dark tower was not tallest or the grandest but probably the most defendable. He was surprised that only two guards stood at the gateway.
He meekly approached. “Hi, I’m Grub. I was told to come here by Princess Chrysalis.”
“Yes, I was told to expect your arrival,” said the male guard opening the gate.
“Thanks,” said Grub.
He was rudely surprised when the gate was slammed in his face by the other guard.
“Worker worm, we were told to let you in but we don’t think we will,” said the female guard snarling.
“What? But—” said Grub.
The male guard twirled his spear. “I’ve guarded Princess Chrysalis for years. I can sense treachery.”
Grub stammered. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!”
The female guard pointed her spear at Grub. “You killed the assassin before he could be interrogated. You could be another plant, set up to gain the Princess’s trust.”
“You’re kidding me,” said Grub.
“You’re a spy,” said the male guard. With a swing of his spear he knocked Grub into the stone floor.
“I’m not a spy!” Grub pleaded.
“Or worse you’re just another lewd tail chaser after her flank,” said the female guard.
Grub blushed. “I’m not that either!”
“Prove it! If you can get through us then you can see Chrysalis,” said the female guard.
“I swear to you my intentions are pure.”
“I’ll beat a lying worm like you to death before I permit you to see our Princess!” The male guard smashed Grub again with the length of his spear.
“Worker worm, presumes himself equal!” the female guard struck with a powerful hind kick.
Grub felt the pain in his sides as he stood up. If only he had the strength to oppose them. He remembered Chrysalis’s kiss. He still held the power in his reserves of magic. He sparked his horn and projected a ball of fire. He hurled towards one of his advancing attackers.
“High level magic! I knew he was not a worker,” said the male guard spinning his spear to deflect the firebolt.
“Flank him!” the female guard struck at Grub's side. Again he felt the shattering strength of her hooves.
The male guard charged smacking him in the jaw with his spear.
He coughed blood this time as he tried to stand up.
“Leave and we won’t kill you,” said the male guard.
“What reason is worth your life?” asked the female guard.
Grub spat out a loose tooth. “I was born a worker. All my life I’ve been left wanting. I don’t care if I live or die! I came here to change that! You dare extinguish my hope in hell?! Feel my despair!”
He used the last of his strength upon a spell he only read of. His horn glowed and erased reality. Projecting his emotions, all of his despair and hopelessness was angrily vented. A lifetime’s laboring was poured forth. The drudgery of a gray existence was focused in a tidal wave.
The male guard crumpled over. He writhed in agony. The female guard barely stood.
The guards were left panting as the projection was abruptly cut off. Grub lay on the ground.
“We might have been killed if he had enough mana,” said the male guard, shakily standing up.
The female guard scoffed and corrected her counterpart. “Husk, you might have.”
Husk nodded. “Still an emotive attack, it is advanced sorcery.”
The female guard replied. “It requires a great deal of mana and saps the soul if not enough is to be had. Only an amateur would employ it without knowing their limits. He might not be a spy.”
“Perhaps a desperate expert might make an amateur move.” Husk suggested.
In a plume of emerald flames, the female guard revealed herself. Her limb lengthened and her profile rose above her counterpart. “In any case he was willing to risk death to see me. I shall inquire about how he learned such magic after he is healed. He has passed my test.”
Husk bowed. “Yes, Princess.”
Chapter 2 Schemes and Dreams
Grub awoke upon a bed. He felt the give of the soft mattress. There were even feather pillows; he wondered whether it was made from Pegasus feathers. He snuggled his face into the cushion. A luxury like this he had never experienced. One could be absorbed in such comfort, he sighed as his muscles relaxed.
“Amused?”
He shot up as the impatient voice scarred him. Lifting his head he saw her. Princess Chrysalis sat at the end on the bed. He was in her royal chambers. Trepidation gripped him, her heard others killed for lesser infractions.
“Grub, I have questions for you.” She got uncomfortably close as her eyes scanned him. “Are you an assassin sent by my sisters?”
“No!” said Grub. “I told your two guards as much!”
“Look upon me when speaking.”
For years he had been told to directly gaze at royalty was a crime. It was a prohibition, Changelings had been blinded for breaking. He squirmed from her gaze. “It is taboo.”
“At the gate you challenged two fully trained soldiers. Where is that spirit? I was one of those guards.”
“You were? I did not know then that I was fighting a Princess.” He murmured to himself.
“Look into my eyes with yours. If you avert your gaze, I shall reduce you to a station lower than worker.”
Lower? He wondered whether there was a level less than. He did not want to find out. Slowly his eyes traveled from her lengthy legs to her chest. A blush appeared on his face, the Princess was beautiful even in the corrupted state shared by all his and her kind.
Chrysalis noticed his appraisal of her form, her face heated slightly. She coughed pointing a hoof to her face. “Knave, my eyes are up here.”
Their eyes locked. In her pupils emerald fire became alit burning away his consciousness.
She licked her fangs. “Warnings to avoid eye contact with nobility were not unfounded. The superstition was rather prudent.”
Inside his head he felt a force probe through his collection of memories. However as this entity busily sifted through his mind he saw in the corner a door with a crack of an opening. It was a door that ought not have been open. The light in the crack beckoned his exploration. Throwing caution to the wind he stepped through the darkness as the entity behind was distracted. Opening the door he was blinded by the light.
Within the memory he saw through Chrysalis and her eyes. She was amongst her sisters. “Please do not tell mother!”
“Little Chrysalis has hots for a soldier!” teased Cerci as she jumped about.
Beezleba spoke sternly. “Sister, you know the law.”
“You told her didn’t you?!”
Neither Cerci or Beezleba spoke.
Chrysalis slammed the doors open to the throne room. Blue fire torches lit the walkway. Queen Gossamer was amidst issuing orders to several soldiers.
“What is the meaning of this interruption?” The stern Queen voiced.
She nervously spoke. “Mother, have my sisters told you anything?”
“I know,” said Gossamer.
Chrysalis bowed to the ground. “No! I beg of you spare him exile and a lonely death! I claim responsibility for everything!”
“Daughter, it is forbidden.”
She intoned more urgently. “Please spare him! I love Clavius!”
Queen Gossamer swung her hoof smacking Chrysalis to the floor. “You shall not say love of a lower caste if you are royalty.”
Chrysalis nursed her bruised and bleeding cheek. “What about my father!? He was a soldier!”
Chrysalis’s confession drew stares from some soldiers in the room. Gossamer noted this.
Their monarch’s voice thundered in the confines of the chamber. Some stone of the ceiling was dislodged by the boom. “SILENCE! Do you wish you revoke your right as royalty?”
“For Clavius, I will.”
The stern face of Gossamer did not move. “Then you are most foolish. It has already been done. I gave the execution orders moments ago.”
“Ex-Ex-Execution?” she stuttered.
“Be gone, speak of this again and I shall banish you. It is law.”
“No!” Chrysalis sunk low as she limped out of the chamber.
Cerci moved beside Chrysalis. Her sing song teasing tone was absent. “We didn’t know mother would—”
Chrysalis shrieked. “I hate you all!”
Even Beezleba spoke with a hint of sympathy. “If you’re fast, you might be able to stop it, but you wouldn’t be a Princess. Please reconsider, sister.”
“No! I will go! Where is he?”
Beezleba said. “The city outskirts to be impaled.”
Outside in the dark edge of the city were poles planted into the ground… attached to them were Changelings impaled. She lifted a buglantern to each of the faces of the condemn. Among the dead she spied hers. Jutting from the nape of his neck was the end of the spear point.
The Princess fell to the ground sobbing. “No! No! No! You cannot be dead…”
The eyelids of the corpse opened. “Chyrsalis?” murmured the impaled Changeling weakly.
“Clavius! You are alive!” She sobbed into his chest. “I was so worried. I thought you had been killed.”
Each word from his mouth was punctuated by a tenor of agony. “I am already dead. The damage is beyond healing.”
She shook her head. “I shall bring all the city’s healers. I’ll threaten them if they will not accept payment.”
“The spear is enchanted no magic may heal. Kill me. Please!”
“No!” She paced about. “I surrendered my crown for you.”
Clavius spoke coldly. “Princess, do not forsake your birthright. Go back to the Queen and apologize. Forget about me.”
“How can you say that?”
“I am glad to have my last words with you. Every moment I am here is pure suffering; if you love me you will end it.”
“My love you are lost but not forgotten. I will change things… when I become Queen. By the monarch of old, dead and cold, I swear I shall become Queen!” She touched her hooves to his head. She kissed him… the memory faded to black with snap.
As the waking world came back to focus he was seized by fear. He was privy to an intensely private memory. He dare not reveal what he saw.
“I believe you. You are not an assassin. I have searched your memories.” Chrysalis retracted, giving him room. “By the way… you didn’t see any of mine did you?” Her eyes became piercing.
“No, how could I?” His reply was the best casual tone he could convey.
She chuckled. “What was I thinking; it takes more than skill to do so.”
He exhaled with immeasurable relief.
“Now tell me how you came by magic. Worker castes are forbidden to learn it.”
“Couldn’t you search my memories again?”
“It is not polite nor do I wish to live the drudgery of a worker’s years. Speak.”
He tightened up again. “I was visited by my mother… she was a worker. She emphasized the importance of books and learning magic.”
“Save for royal blood, all nymphs, of the hive, are raised collectively in their caste. It is forbidden for a parent to visit their spawn until they are of age.”
“My mother wanted me to become more. I was told my father was a soldier.”
She said dryly. “Inter-caste coupling is also forbidden.”
“Indeed, it is why my father abandoned my mother.”
“…” Chrysalis contemplatively paused. “It is difficult to believe you know magic forbidden to all but our elite soldiers.”
“Mother secretly passed along my first books, some of which were my father’s spell books. I have a secret storage of books hidden in my home’s false ceiling, if you don’t believe me. I practiced hidden away in the old tunnels. You keep saying forbidden… am I forbidden to become something more.”
“I said forbidden, not impossible. The story of your birth and your defiance of circumstance is hard to believe but it is plausible,” said Chrysalis, “This is because to deny your circumstances would be to deny my own.”
Grub’s brows were fully raised. He had recalled it being mentioned in her memories, yet for her to reveal it herself was shocking. “My Princess?”
“If you are tempted to tell another, I shall have your tongue removed and your vocal cords cut for extra measure.”
Grub nodded, fearfully.
“My father died in battle before he was raised to Royal consort. I am also the youngest; my claim to throne is weakest… if there is a claim at all.”
“I am sorry.”
She smacked him in the face. “Never pity me.”
“Forgive me.”
“Do not grovel. I hate groveling.”
He saluted. “Yes Princess.”
“You came here seeking to serve me. Is that still your wish?”
“It would depend on your answer to my question.”
Chrysalis chuckled lightly. “I have questioned you. It is fair enough you ask one.”
“Princess, do you want the throne for your own?”
“No, however I must… my sisters selfish ambitions will lead to our people’s destruction.”
Bioluminescent plants curled their vines around archways and fences. The glowing flowering bulbs attracted insects to their brilliance. Upon contact the bulbs the outlying petals snapped shut trapping the flies. Surrounded in this subterranean garden two figures stood.
Princess Beezleba breathed deeply the fragrance of her flowers. She remarked. “In world starved of sun even the plants have grown cruel. What say you, Mandible?”
Her stoic guard was a Changeling lived to his name, his pronounced jaw moved to mouth words. “Yes Princess. Kindness is a luxury of the overworld. Here we must do what we must to survive.”
“Well said, my Captain. Tend to me, brush my mane.”
Mandible nodded as he grabbed a brush and gently wove it through the purple strands of his liege.
The Princess cooed in the pampering. She frowned when he stopped. “Mandible?”
The burly Changeling planted his legs firmly on the ground in an assumed battle stance.“Your sister Cerci approaches.”
Sure as his words, the golden maned Princess appeared. She was accompanied by a half dozen of her ‘Captains’. She smiled ear to ear. “Sister Beezleba, still only a single Captain? Have you not heard these are dangerous times?”
The Elegant Princess countered dismissively. “Among your quantity, I doubt to find any of quality. None can match my one.” She turned towards Mandible.
One of Cerci’s guards spoke out of turn. “Bah, methinks the brute is not so tough.”
Cerci snapped at her guard. “Silence Thorax, royalty are speaking.”
Beezleba raised an amused brow. “Undisciplined too? They truly are your followers.”
Her sister simply smiled harder revealing her fangs. “Dearest sister let us not talk of toys.”
“Why have you come to my garden?”
“These are the palace gardens,” sneered Cerci.
“Exactly.” Beezleba gave another haughty laugh.
“You think the crown is already yours? I recall recently your failure. Really? Sending a worker to play assassin?”
Beezleba pouted in her best innocent expression. “You assume it was I.”
“Sister, you were most sloppy.”
The Elegant Princess gave a smug smirk. “What have I to gain from the death of our littlest sister? Chrysalis is not even a factor in my plans. You on the other hoof could control her soldiers if she were to come to an unfortunate accident.”
“Arrogant as ever. You underestimate everyone. If ever our little Chrysy was to succeed in her expeditions, the balance we’ve established just might tip. Favor of our sovereign Queen might shift. Chrysy is tenacious and desperate enough to succeed.”
Beezleba nodded. “Then for once we are in agreement, she is a problem.” She yawned. “However you seek control of the other castes so the problem is closer to you. I’ll let you handle it.”
“Sloth.” Cerci spat as she stormed off with her half dozen guards.
“Slut.” Beezleba shot off.
Chrysalis spoke bitterly. “I doubt also they would advance our true cause. Not even my mother has made any headway.”
“True cause?”
“Substantiation, the end of the Changeling curse, true freedom. We could be whole and never need to feed upon the emotions others.”
“That’s a fairy tale isn’t it?” Grub asked, skeptically. He lowered his head. “Generations upon generations have done nothing. I do not believe there is hope.”
Chrysalis arose from the bed. “You came to me looking for change. In the streets I mistook you for a soldier. You think like a worker worm. Return to your hovel, I have no use for you.”
Grub immediately jumped and bowed his head at her feet. He pleaded. “Please Princess, I wish only serve!”
“What did I say of groveling?” Chrysalis said, sneering.
Against his instincts Grub stood upright. He stiffened his body. “I mean, I wish to serve.” His head was still lowered.
Chrysalis spoke grandly. “Good, a worker you are no longer, instead you will be a soldier. See to Husk, he shall show you your new living quarters. In a month’s time we shall strike forth into the overworld. We shall bring back the conquest of a city!”
“Could you do it?”
“You dare doubt me! Success is assured!”
Her confident display did not impress him rather it was everything else. She was not invulnerable, stealing into her memories he knew as much. He reflected upon how his stereotype of graceful royal had been shattered. She was harsh but as honest as a Changeling could be. He felt he should be glad to serve her as a soldier. In thoughts he dare not bring to surface maybe he wanted to be more. “Yes, my Princess.”
The Changeling guard known as Husk was waiting outside the doorway. He smirked as Grub left.
“So? You looked into her eyes?”
“Yeah.” Grub felt his head throb from what he had discussed with Chrysalis and the memory of hers he had peeked into.
“The Princess does that test with all her new subjects. I’m surprised you weren’t taken out with a stretcher like most are.” Husk shuddered.
“It wasn’t pleasant.”
“You maintained consciousness; did you see any memory of hers?”
“No.” He was calm so that Husk’s scrutiny revealed nothing.
“I would be silent if I did. Our Princess is something of a mystery. ”
“Princess Chrysalis accepted me but what is my role?”
“Most the competent mages are Infiltrator Caste and they’re under Princess Beezleba’s command. You’re an asset, if you can be trained. We have a month before the next expedition.”
“Expedition? Another one in just a month?”
“Yes and usually it takes years to become a competent battle mage.” Husk shook his head. “Chrysalis wants to train us in a few weeks.”
“Us? Aren’t you her Captain?” he asked.
“No, I am but a soldier. That spot has been forever vacant. Our Warrior Princess mostly assumes those responsibilities herself. Do not ask why that is so.”
He had suspicions as to the real reason. The memory still haunted him. He decided to change subject before he accidentally revealed he knew more. “Wait, the princess will train us personally?”
Husk nodded. “The few mages we had were lost in the last expedition, it is a desperate measure.”
Grub wondered aloud. “Have I jumped onto a sinking ship?”
The other Changeling laughed hollowly. “You haven’t even seen a ship… but yes we’re doomed.”
His new friend had the same dark humor as Arista. They both laughed a moment at the irony.
Chrysalis was alone in her chambers again. She sighed he had been company even if he was weak and meek.
“I have fooled them all, including myself. My confidence is counterfeit. An expedition? What was I thinking?” Her horn lit up as she levitated a pillow to her face. She screamed into it.
She looked up and upon her reflection in her mirror. She spied a tear. “Why am I crying? Did he see?” She shook her head of the thought and set aside her mirror. Her mental defenses were supreme. Powerful dream walkers, natural empaths, were rare.
“Still he is another chess pawn piece to add to my box.” She buried herself in her pillows. “Thinking like that? Am I becoming like my sisters?” She growled. “Or my mother?”
She tossed and turned onto her back and staring at the black ceiling of her room. “My forces were not as strong as I first left. My spirit isn’t either. This expedition shall be the death of me…”
Unshed tears choked her. “However if I succumb and if I fail, what will become of my promise to you? What of my schemes and dreams? What about myself?”
She surrendered as her limbs limply fell unto her bed. Monologuing was always cathartic. Her troubles would be for another day.
Husk led him to the soldier’s barracks. The honeycombs carved into the stone walls were even smaller than the one one workers were given.
Grub grumbled in disappointment. “I thought soldiers had better homes.”
Husk chuckled. “We’re just better fed. I envy the freedom workers enjoy.”
“Wait you envy us?”
“You can still walk the streets without patrol orders. You’re not subject to the power struggles of royalty,” said Husk. His expression became grim. “If tomorrow I was ordered to I would have to march to my death.”
“The grass is greener on the other side,” He offered.
Husk tilted his head in confusion. “Below the earth, we are on other side of the grass. Where is it that you get these topsider expressions?”
“Books.”
“Hey, Grub.”
He jumped in surprise as he saw a familiar wingless worker Changeling behind him.
He shouted in glee. “Arista! Why are you here?”
“A squad of soldiers were looking for your dwelling. They asked… well ordered me to move your stuff.” She whispered her next words into his ear. “Your books are under the sheets.”
“Thanks,” He smiled gratefully.
“Okay Mr. Grub. Now you’re a big shot, could you get me a job?”
“You are dismissed, worker,” said Husk, curtly.
Grub turned to Husk. “Arista, is a trusted friend. You said you lost a lot of soldiers, couldn’t you take her?”
Husk was unmoved. “A wingless worker would compromise the combat effectiveness of a squad.”
Arista smiled her brightest for Husk. “Don’t expedition teams impersonate pony infantry? We workers are strong, physically. I’m sure you take some earth pony disguises. Pretty please?”
The soldier was slightly flustered by the closeness of the female worker. “It’s not my decision to make. Normally you’d have to ask a captain. We don’t have a captain.”
“Yet,” Grub said softly however his words were heard.
Husk laughed. “You just got here. Already scheming and dreaming of bigger things?”
“What if I am?”
“Go ahead, it’s a death sentence.” Husk chuckled hollowly as he left.
Arista pouted “I don’t like him.”
Grub said. “He shares your sense of humor.”
Two dark shadows conversed. One had a regal bearing while the other slinked.
The lesser one spoke. “Isn’t her mission suicide? Why not let it be?”
“That is not your decision.”
“She will be well-guarded now.”
“Curse my sister’s incompetence, she has made things hard for us.”
“I expect double payment.”
“You and yours have been already well bribed. I expect results. Fail me and you’ll find yourself fighting Quarray Eels in the dark reaches, alone.”
“Yes, mistress.”
The larger shadow moved closer to her subordinate. Cerci’s strands of golden hair draped across the lesser Changeling’s shoulders. She whispered in his ear. “I am not without compassion. Succeed and I shall invite you into my inner circle, Thorax.”
Thorax frowned and recoiled from her touch. “My mistress, you have suitors aplenty. I have labored long for you yet I do not feel you care for any of us truly.”
Cerci spoke tenderly. “My heart is great enough to accommodate you all. My love is like a cup that never empties.”
He murmured. “Doesn’t the drink become diluted as it’s split?” Sighing, Thorax was quick to change the subject. “What shall we do for infantry? I can secure the soldiers however vows of silence seldom hold under interrogation.”
Cerci rolled her eyes. “You’re planning to be caught now?”
“No, I meant if an royal inquiry comes forth afterwards.”
His superior smiled. “That won’t be an issue. There are those outside the Queen’s justice. I have the perfect soldiers for you.”
Several bipedal shadows joined them. “Dark pony mistress, you called?” said a shrill voice.
“Excellent, I have a mission for you with giant gems upon your success.”
“No more gems.” the figure meekly proposed. “We want home back.”
“Dumb dogs dare question me?”
The dog shook its head fearfully. “Never mistress.”
