Cogs & Needles

“I may fall, but I'll come back more ambitious, success is sweet, but revenge is so delicious...” - Borgore

Defeat. That despicable word brings a scowl to my face, and anger to my mind. I despise that word with such passionate fury and rage right now, that if my magic was fuelled by my own emotions alone, I could blow a hole through a mountain, particularly the one that distasteful city of Canterlot resides on. I almost had it all, I almost ruled over all of Equestria: the country that has frolicked and grown across the land for over a century, the disgusting ponies living within it forever living on, generation by generation, with the greatest of ease, whilst we changelings had to fight and survive; was almost in my hooves. Almost. Oh, how I hate that word as well...

I was there, atop of it all, more powerful than Celestia herself, and about to rule over Equestria with an iron hoof. The kingdom was mine for the taking, the city of Canterlot overtaken by my changelings. I would have had it all. I would have had the whole kingdom, were it not for those two daft fools. They defeated me with the power of love. Love, the emotion that gives me the most power when I drain it from one of those worthless ponies. The reason why it defeated me is unexplainable to say the very least. I should have simply absorbed it and through it gained such god-like power that even Discord would have bowed to my every whim. But instead, instead it flung me from the city, like a shock wave of incredible power the likes of which I had never seen before.

'How did it happen?' One would ask. How was I so close, only to be thrown down, and denied ultimate power, by two of those horrendous ponies who do not even deserve to lick my hooves? I cannot help but wonder that very question myself, despite knowing that it is unexplainable. Perhaps... Perhaps I had been too power hungry for my own good, letting my insatiable lust for extreme supremacy overtake my natural instincts of survival and stealth that all changelings possess.

It was originally supposed to be a grand reconnaissance quest that we had been planning for months. Equestria is known for the mass amount of love that is spread throughout its landscape. We would replace half of the populace of a city, feed off of their love, and using memory erasing spells, make it seem like nothing ever happened, leaving directly afterwards. We would stealthily move from village to village, town to town, and so on, until we had drained all the love we could have possibly obtained. We would have amounted enough love to keep us sustained for two years at least. But no, when I had a taste of the power of that fool of a pony's love, my mind had been corrupted with ideas of domination and power beyond my wildest dreams, and had made me change the plans from “Stealth and Survival” to “Invasion and Dominance”.

I suppose another factor that may have influenced my mind was my extreme hatred for the pony race, for you see, I had tried to live amongst them before. I was in my teens when I escaped from my kingdom, sick of my royal duties, sick of my mother bossing me around, sick of all the hatred that she gave me, sick of everything. I had heard of a land named Equestria, a land of peace, prosperity, kindness, and tranquillity. I did not know it at the time, but what I would find was quite the opposite. I had come across the city of Trottingham, its old fashioned walls and structures amongst the steam and clockwork powered machines and tools pleasing to the eye, and welcoming to any and all. I disguised myself, assuming the form of a pony, and blended in with the population of the city.

It was absolutely exquisite. All the kindness and love in the air itself was overwhelming to a single changeling, even a changeling princess. Ponies were nice to me, told me how beautiful I was, and even became my friends. One had gotten very close to me, closer than any being ever did before and ever has. He was handsome, charming, intelligent, kind, ...romantic. But I constantly reminded myself that it was fake, a façade. He had fallen in love with me, but only because I was disguised as a pony. I knew that if I ever unshifted and showed him what I truly was, he would treat me like all other ponies treat changelings: With hatred and disgust.

Every now and then, I would ask him the same question, time and time again: “What would you do if I wasn't who you think I am?”. Surprisingly to me, he had never taken the question as something to be deemed suspicious. He just gave me the same answer every time I had asked: “I would love you, and accept you all the same.” He was a true gentlecolt. He was... He was perfect. I couldn't believe it, but I was falling in love with him. I began to love him just as he loved me. I felt so... alive!

But that, like all things, was not meant to be, not meant to stand the test of time. I had decided to make a decision that I did not know would change my life forever, for better, or for worse. I had decided to show him who I truly was, what I truly was on the inside: a Changeling Princess. I had waited for the perfect moment: a moment when we could be truly alone to talk freely as lovers. That moment had come awfully, tragically sooner than expected. His parents and brother were out visiting Manehatten, and we alone were in his house, holding each other on his bed. It was paradise, a true moment of happiness I could not ever have dreamed of.

But then, he got up to show me something, and when he did, I did as well, preparing all of my courage. As he looked in his closet for what he wanted to show me, I told him that I would have something to show him as well. I shifted into my original form, noticing that I had gotten taller as a changeling over the time I had been living amongst the ponies. Once I told him I was ready, he turned around, holding a small black wooden box with silver linings. Once he saw me, and registered that his eyes were not playing him for a fool, he dropped it, causing it to open, the silver emerald encrusted ring that was inside sliding across the floor. I realised then that he was going to propose to me, ask me to marry him so that we could be together forever. But as he stood there looking up at me, all he could do was stutter and mumble, not a single word forming upon his lips, his eyes as wide as they could possibly be. He... He feared me. I knew he did. I also knew what came with fear: hate. Tears fell from my eyes as I realised he did not truly love me, and as I galloped out of his room and out of his house, I bit my lip so hard that my fang pierced it, a small amount of my blood dripping down and from my muzzle to the floor.

I soon realised that going outside in a gallop was not the best way to get out of a city unnoticed, as when I got outside, the ponies around looked at me and screamed, terror spreading amongst them as they saw me and realised what I was. Some began to throw things at me, and before long, the officers came and attempted to capture me, but I used my magic to fend them off and gallop away as fast as I could. The world had turned completely upside down for me, and the realisation devastated me. I galloped and galloped until I could not gallop no more. I stopped in an empty cave for shelter and rest, and as I lied down, all I could do was cry my eyes out. I cried for a peaceful life lost, I cried for lost friendship, I cried for lost love. As I lied there in complete misery and melancholy, I felt something rising inside of me, small at first, but gradually increasing in size until it consumed me: Wrath. I began to get furious, at the colt, at the ponies of the town, at everything. I even got furious at myself, telling myself that I was a fool to believe that they would accept me for who I truly was, and that I should have never put a hoof in that horrible city. I knew then that they hated me, and I swore that I would forever hate them back. I knew then what I had to do. I travelled back to my kingdom, as as if by fate, I discovered that my mother was on her deathbed. I was to have it all: the throne as Queen, and a kingdom of subjects to bend to my every command that I issued. But when I was crowned Queen, I did not care for those, I did not care for any of it at all I cared for one thing, and one thing only: Revenge.

I was supposed to feed my kingdom, take care of them, allow them to live. Now, for all I know, they are all dead. Every last one of my changelings, my subjects, are dead. And it is all my fault. I am the only one to truly place blame on for the death of my race. I let my personal feelings get in the way of my royal duties, and ultimately caused the very near extinction of my race. I would shed a tear for them if I could, but my tear ducts have long since stopped working by my will, for I am too refined to cry. Crying is for the weak, and I will not let that word ever define me again. I will find a way to survive. I will find a way to obtain extreme power. I will find a way to take what is rightfully mine and now mine alone.

I will take revenge.