The sound of death was all around him.
It turns out that starving to death is a very quiet affair. The changeling hive, normally a bustling center of activity, was nothing more than a dried husk. Limp changelings clung to the walls or laid on the floor as the last of their love reserves slowly seeped out. Every now and then, another pair of glowing blue eyes winked out, as another member of the hive was kissed by eternity's grace.
The queen was gone. Dead. Without another royal changeling to hold it together, the hivemind had shattered into a million voices. No one knew what happened, for the Link had been severed, and now they were left to die of starvation isolated and alone, unable to communicate with each other outside of meaningless buzzing sounds. Without the Link, there was no mourning, no reassurance, no direction, no plan of action.
No hope.
He could feel the misery and despair of his brothers and sisters around him. It was the only part of them he could feel, the only emotions he could still sense. The entire hive was filled with the dark, cold blue of depression and sadness. There was nothing any of them could do anymore. Even if they had the Link, surely their emotion harvesters would have been caught and executed by now. Of course, no one knew for sure. No one knew anything anymore. It didn't matter.
Nothing mattered.
An errant thought flittered through his mind, and the changeling slowly began to get up. Wincing, Zethral spread out his insectoid wings, and willed them to flap, but he was long past the point of flying. Fighting against dizziness as the final stages of starvation began to take hold of his chitin-covered body, he started limping towards the exit of the hive. If he was going to die, he'd rather die under the warm light of the sun than in the cold depths of a forgotten hive.
Perhaps his brethren had the same thought. Perhaps they sensed the surge of determination and hope that flickered through his battered form. Whatever it was, his fellow changelings slowly began to right themselves, and trot along behind him in a silent procession. Slowly, agonizingly slowly, the black creatures dragged their broken and emaciated forms out of the hive, a funeral procession for their race. Many dark bodies toppled before they could reach the entrance, but none had the strength to carry the dying bodies of their siblings.
Somehow, Zethral found the entrance unscathed by the earthquake that had sundered their beloved hive. The blue light of the sky seemed to give strength to him, and he found himself walking out into the bright sunlight at a brisk pace. He’d only been outside twice in his entire life. At least, before he left this world forever, he’d get to experience the surface a third time.
His siblings seemed to agree, and as the column of changelings slowly emerged from the hive, they buzzed in excitement and awe. Birds sang in the air, and a soft wind blew through the green bush. The ground was soft and fertile beneath their hooves, and small animals scurried around them, preoccupied with their own struggle for survival.
Zethral didn’t know where he was walking. He simply followed his hooves. The sun had barely crossed midday when he stumbled upon a clearing in the forest, with a river running through it. He felt his hooves stop beneath him, and he decided that he had reached his destination.
It was beautiful. Sunlight shone through the canopy, decorating the ground in bright yellow patterns. Soft yellow grass swayed gently in the wind, almost glowing in the mid-afternoon sunlight. A small tree stood guard by the river, near the center of the clearing. He laid down, and the soft grass tickled his belly and warmed his hooves. It was the most peaceful and tranquil resting place he could have asked for, but something still ate at him.
The hive mind was gone, the Link lost along with their beloved queen. He was alone with his thoughts, with no one else to share them with. No changeling should die alone, and no changeling should ever be alone. It wasn’t in their nature. Back in the hive, back before everything had fallen apart, he had always found comfort among his siblings. There had always been someone willing to listen to his problems, to lend a comforting thought over the link.
Now, the comforting buzz of the hivemind was gone, leaving a gaping wound in his soul that could never be filled. He was about ready to lower his head to the ground and accept his miserable fate when he felt something touch his shoulder.
Looking up, he saw the smiling face of another changeling drone, and a comforting hoof on his withers. He didn’t know who they were, but those details hardly mattered anymore. He smiled, and she gave him a friendly nuzzle. As he looked around, he saw the rest of his hivemates coming together, using what little strength they had left to bring their siblings into a heartfelt hug. Even as they faced their final absolution, they would not have to do so alone. Even without the Link, even without a queen, they still found a way to comfort each other.
The misery and despair that had suffocated his senses seemed to lift as more of his siblings joined them in the field. Slowly, the sorrow and woe was replaced with comradery and acceptance. The vivid colors of a hundred flowers decorated the other side of the river, and a rich scent of pine needles tickled his nose. He could hear the faint gurgling of the river as it continued its journey towards the sea, and the calls of birds flapping overhead. It wasn’t a replacement for the Link itself, but perhaps it could be just as breathtaking.
He felt friendly hooves wrap around him, and he returned the gesture without hesitation. Suddenly, Zethral didn’t feel alone anymore. He couldn’t tell what his sister was thinking in that moment, but it didn’t matter anymore. He knew that he was loved, and she knew that he loved him, and that was all that mattered.
He nuzzled her, and they laid down together, waiting for the end to come, as the sun inched ever lower.
As the last rays of sunlight painted the clouds with red, Zethral knew he didn’t have much time left. Most of the others had already passed away, slipping into eternal slumber in the loving hooves of their hivemates. He’d lost the strength to move an hour ago, and was simply staring straight ahead, as the sun slowly danced between the clouds. He had never seen a sunset before, and even as he began to feel the last of his strength leave him, he was grateful that he had glimpsed one before the end. He closed his eyes, and smiled, at peace with himself.
As the last rays of light faded from the world, so did the last changeling, his eyes darkening and his form going limp. His lifeless body joined countless others in the beautiful field that they had turned into their grave.
It was a very quiet evening.
Author's Note
Thanks to Wing Dancer for preventing me from royally messing this up and LoyalLiar for correcting my illiteracy.
Now with fanart!
