Nothing

by Silent Quill

Rating: teen
Tags: Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Sad, Other, Princess Luna, Changelings, Princess Celestia
Length: 10771

A changeling awakens within Canterlot after the invasion with a big problem.

I was a simple drone; I did my work, had my meal, and returned to my own little carved-out den day in and day out. At least, until the invasion of the Golden City. Now I'm alone, cold, scared, and I'm pretty sure something is wrong...

I suppose being found is the least of my concerns...

Published 2015-04-06 15:20:02 UTC
Last updated 2015-04-06 15:20:02 UTC

Broken

Pain; unadulterated, unfiltered, brutal, stabbing pain rippled throughout my entire body as I slowly woke up from whatever sleep I’d been in. How had I slept through this? My entire body felt like it was on fire. I suppose I wouldn’t really know how that felt, but if I could describe the sensation, it would be just like this.

My eyes slowly opened amid protests from my aching body and I verified that, no, I was not on fire, and that the strange damp feeling I had down one side of my body was, in fact, my own blue blood. It must have been; I don’t recall water glowing, or being this blue in as small a quantity as was around me.

I tried to recall how I’d gotten here; still trying to catch up with my runaway body and the strain I’d been put under. I could see, blurrily, that I was in the Golden City. The golden tiled rooves and the spires of the grand castle, the very seat of Equestrian government, standing as proud evidence of my current location.

The invasion; what had happened to the invasion?

My mind, still overloading with the senses of the abuse my body had been through, allowed me to recall the events before I had a strange mental blackout. Ponies, we’d been ordered to capture six ponies. There had been two of each tribe, not including the elusive and powerful Alicorns. Why were they important again, I remember our Queen telling us..? Oh, that’s right; they held the power of the Elements of Harmony, the ponies’ greatest defensive weapon. They could have ruined the whole invasion.

My stomach groaned, reminding me of why we had invaded. How long had it been since I had last fed well? Weeks, maybe..? I couldn’t remember. We needed love, or at the least raw magic that we could convert into emotive energy, to feed, and our collectors were going missing one by one. The sheer amount of magical energy in this Golden City’s air alone would have fed the hive for weeks, though currently my pain was keeping me from doing anything but hurting… I suddenly realised how I’d gotten distracted from my initial thoughts…

We’d managed to restrain the ponies, though not without some difficulties, and a squadron of our soldiers had taken them back to the Queen. Victory was inevitable…

A flash of something went through my mind; pink, a wall of pink, higher than the highest spires, made of purest, most unfiltered love energy imaginable, far too raw to even consume. I recalled it striking my side, launching me high into the air. I recalled seeing my fellow hive-mates flung to the winds…

I looked up, seeing what had broken my fall from such a height, only to see a smear of my own dried blood across the wall above me. I must have struck it incredibly hard to have produced such a mark; my carapace is usually resistant to impact, being a worker drone and all. It would explain the blood beneath me, actually; the wall must have taken the brunt of my fall and my chitin split under the pressure.

Where had the ponies gotten such a powerful weapon? I groaned as my body finally allowed me to move again, and I struggled to get to my feet, only to find that I couldn’t. My forelegs worked fine, but my hind legs, why… why couldn’t I feel my legs? Or my tail, for that matter… It felt as if those limbs had simply ceased to exist. A cursory glance around me failed to turn up the limbs missing, so I looked at my hindquarters, ignoring all of the splits and cracks in my chitin that I had missed, for the possible reason.

Common misconception is that we changelings are giant insects, that we have an exoskeleton to support our body structure. In truth, we’re sort of like turtles, tortoises, or dragons; we possess an endoskeleton, and a protective ‘armour’, in our case made of chitin, much like fur for ponies or scales for dragons, which protects our otherwise very soft skin.

At the base of my tail, maybe an inch or so further up my spine than that, I could see where the bone structure in question kinked violently to my left. If I had been a pony, my face would have blanched at the sight, as even my reasonably uneducated mind made a mental comment that terrified me.

I don’t bend that way.

And, with that thought, the stress of the situation caught up with me. We’d not only failed to take the Golden City, but we’d been scattered to the four winds. We’d brought the whole hive, even our nymphs, in the hopes that we could feed everyling at once; now chances were that we would be extinct by the week’s end. And here I am; a lone, crippled changeling in the heart of pony territory.

I must have cracked, mentally, at that point. I remember laughing and crying and starting to drag myself out of the alley I’d found myself waking up in. I tipped over a cardboard box full of other, crushed boxes on my way, to where I didn’t know. A cat, evidently owned by one of the many ponies in the area hissed at me as I struggled past it, before fleeing up over the rooftops by way of a downpipe.

Almost desperately I dragged myself towards the sound of voices at the end of the alley, not caring what I found. Diamond Dogs, with their centuries-old conflicts and bad blood with changelings would likely just kill me, while Gryphons would probably ignore me completely. Zebras would, most likely, try and remove me from the city, while ponies… I didn’t know what ponies would do to me. I didn’t care. I wanted help. Any help. Even if I met a Diamond Dog and he killed me, it would at least put me out of my misery.

The street I crawled out into was bustling with ponies. Decorations from the wedding still hung up, though they were being taken down by a few unicorns here and there. The scene was… strange. To me, at least; this was only the second time I’d met ponies in any capacity, workers stay at the hive and don’t leave. To see ponies milling about and doing the odd jobs that my caste would usually be doing was odd.

I didn’t have long to take in the scene before a loud feminine scream cut through the bustle. I was still dragging my legs across the ground in hopes of finding aid, and a mare had finally seen me. Her scream alerted every pony within earshot, and soon the street was emptying of ponies as they fled, trying to get away from the crippled monster in their midst.

Exhausted and starving, my forelegs gave in and I collapsed onto the street. That had driven the nail into my coffin; the populous was too afraid of us to even be near me, let alone help me. I heaved a shuddering sigh. Here I would die; alone, afraid, and unwilling. I heard hooves strike the ground behind me, and I weakly turned my head to see a pair of pegasus royal guards glaring down at me hatefully.

I felt more terrified than ever as they readied their spears, especially when I opened my mouth to plead, “Please, help me.”

I saw one of the pegasi swing his spear and felt, for a split second before slipping into darkness, the shaft end strike me across the back of my head.

--

I awoke next in a dark room that smelled of dust, mildew, and damp rock. Such familiar smells, much like home, yet at the same time alien; the dust of home smelled different, and while I was no stranger to mildew and damp rock, the smell was not something that I would have connected with my nook, but rather with where I worked. It didn’t make sense in my head that I would awake at work; such a thing was frowned upon and would lead to severe punishment. I’d never done it before, either.

No, I wasn’t home, as much as I wished I was.

The sound of hooves thundered outside, and I feigned sleep when the door was opened. I could hear two ponies come in, clad in heavy armour, and together they lifted me and carried me from the room. I didn’t want to potentially risk causing trouble for myself, so I continued to play dead as they carried me through the hallways. Out second doorway and away from the smells of the cavern-like area I’d been in. Here the air smelled strange. A sharp yet sweet smell permeated the air, making me think of the market area of the Golden City and the orange, yellow, and green fruit that one stall had been selling.

What had the little signs called them? Lemons, Limes, and Mandarins..?

Another door was opened, and the two ponies carried me through into a new room before dumping me unceremoniously onto the floor and retreating back out of the room. They must have been guards of some sort; their actions seemed to have been very strict and routine.

Weakly I opened my eyes, groaning a little at the blaring light above me which illuminated the white room to an otherwise blinding degree. I struggled to move, trying to look down at myself and see why I could now feel myself constricted. White fabric encircled my body, covering where my chitin had split open from striking the wall. I could see blue discolouration from my blood leaking into the fabric, staining it. What was the purpose of these? Were they trying to dye the fabric? I moved to try and tug the bands around my stomach away with a forehoof when a voice cut into the silence.

“Ah, it stirs.”

Finally I registered the other entities in the room, a trio of ponies ‘behind’ me. Weakly turning my head, I looked up at a table with the three ponies looking down at me. One was a bronze coloured stallion with a vibrant red mane and green eyes, a horn atop his forehead letting me know that this was a unicorn. A second was a night-blue mare with baby-blue eyes and a strange, flowing mane which sparkled faintly –she also featured a horn atop her head in front of which was a small black tiara, a matching gorget around her neck.

The third was white, with a multi-coloured flowing mane much like the blue mare’s, and brilliant purple eyes. Like her darker counterpart, she also featured a tiara and gorget, hers’ made of gold. I stared at her for what felt like an age before it clicked in my head who this was exactly. At this point I’m sure my expression warped into pure fear and I felt myself begin shaking.

The Mistress of the Sun herself was here?! If she were dressed like this, that would make the mare next to her the younger sister, the Mare in the Moon! My breath caught in my throat as I stared in wide-eyed terror, and after what felt like an eternity I began scrabbling at the fabric wrapping me, hoping to remove its constricting in case I needed to escape.

The voice cut into the room again, this time faint worry tinging its edges. “Please, don’t fiddle with your bandages; you’re going to hurt yourself.”

Bandages..? What in the name of the Queen’s wings are bandages?! I continued to push at the fabric, feeling the wounds beneath moving and reopening as I did so. A golden glow encompassed my hooves and stopped my desperate actions as the fabric began to absorb blood that I was losing through my now reopened injuries.

I’m sure that the Mistress of the Sun had said something at me as she grabbed my hooves, but I didn’t hear her beneath my own scream of terror. This was it; this mare was going to use her magic to—

“Sister, stop! Look at it, it’s terrified!”

The words, which I barely heard, were effective on the white mare. Her magic stopped and released my hooves, allowing me to use them to cover my head as I shivered in place. I was certain that, had there been anything in them in the first place, I would have emptied my bladders when she had grabbed me. Instead, I merely broke down into terrified tears and shook like a pebble in an earthquake.

For a few minutes, this was all that happened. Me cowering on the floor, and the ponies watching me dig deeper into my own private hole of self-pity. Eventually my crying stopped, though now I hiccupped every couple of seconds while I breathed. A third, male voice spoke out in the room.

“Changeling, please rise and sit in the chair provided.”

I looked up at the three ponies fearfully, noting that it must have been the stallion who had spoken, as he was gesturing to a seat not a few inches away from me. I only looked back at him sadly, hiccupping a few times, before shaking my head.

He spoke again, this time with a small twinge of anger to his voice. “Changeling, please rise and sit in the chair provided.”

Again I shook my head at him, and this time his face contorted into anger. “You will not be asked another time, changeling; get into the chair and face us.”

A third time I shook my head, and to this he lit up his horn, his orange magic surrounding my midsection and causing me to scream in terror once again. More talking over my screaming occurred, and I was dropped the scant few inches I’d been lifted back to the ground.

I wanted to get away, to get out of this white room smelling of sharp fruit and the soft perfumes of the pony mares. Sobbing and dripping tears, I dragged myself across the floor into a corner where the bright light didn’t reach as well as the rest of the room before curling up as best I could, cradling my head in my forelegs. At this point, I wasn’t even thinking about what I was doing. I was running on instinct.

An animal, terrified and cornered.

“Sister,” the second female voice began over my sobs and terrified shivering, “we have nothing to gain from interrogating somepony who cannot speak from fear; I recommend that we return it to its cell.”

I don’t know what happened after this; in my drained and terrified state, the adrenaline pumping through my veins was the only thing keeping me awake; when it ran out, as it inevitably did, so did my ability to stay conscious.

--

I awoke next back in the musty room I had woken in previously, laying on a bed made of some kind of fabric stretched across a frame. With a groan I lifted my head, and looked around the room. Stone walls refuse to give up their secrets to my gaze, and the dust settled all across the floor tells me few tales.

The room is rarely used, if the dust is to be believed, and if the marks through it are any indication, the last time I was brought in I was more or less dragged.

Dragged… how I’m going to find locomotion for myself forever crosses my mind. I’ll be dragging my hindquarters around forever; a crippled, defenceless, useless drone. Unable to walk, run, canter, trot…

The door clanked heavily, and swung open with a squeak of unused and rusted hinges to reveal a quintet of ponies in heavy armour, four of whom aimed their spears at me. The fifth, a unicorn, moved into the room and placed a small table just inside the room before putting something that smelled strongly of food atop it.

“Prisoner, you will come and eat your meal; any hostile moves will not be tolerated.” He said sternly, motioning to the food.

With a sigh, I pulled myself from the bed and dragged my legs across the room, stopping and looking in at the food offered; a stew of mixed vegetables. It’s edible, but not something that would provide me with much nourishment for long; I need emotive energy, or at the least mana to convert, to be nourished.

With a sigh I force myself to eat the bland meal, having to force my face into the bowl to eat it as I wasn’t provided with any utensils. It didn’t take long for me to finish, licking any stray food from my lips before the bowl and table were removed. The guards lingered a few moments, watching as I struggled back to my bed and curled up for what I could before leaving.

Is this what my life is to become..? Eat a meal that will barely keep me going for the next dozen hours, sleep for what I can, and be in pain in between?

I cried myself back to sleep.

--

This pattern continued for some time, most of it uncounted by me as I had no references to what time of day it was. I can only assume that it was days, but, again, with no reference I had no way of knowing.

One… day, I awoke unable to move. I couldn’t find the energy to care, particularly, not even when the usual quintet of guards entered the room to give me my meal of stew. As per the routine, the sole unicorn entered, placed the stool and bowl, and commanded me to eat. As per usual, he never even looked at me, though he did become irate when I ‘refused’ to rise. I, on the other hoof, was struggling to keep up with what was going on around me.

“L.T.,” one of the spear-wielding guards voiced, a break in the monotony of repetition, “somethin’ ain’t right here.”

My eyesight became slightly blurry as the unicorn, for the first time, looked at me.

“All I see is a prisoner refusing to follow commands.” He snapped.

The guard shook her head, though it was barely perceptible to me. “Uh, L.T., I know that changelings are thin and sickly looking, but…”

“But..?”

The spear was shook in my direction. “My sister did med school, and I learned a little from her,” she said calmly, “that’s a one.”

The unicorn turned his head in her direction. “A what?”

“It’s called a ‘Body-score’, comes in a one-to-nine rating, nine is obese, L.T.;” she explained, pausing possibly for effect, “the changelings at the invasion were a three or four, but… that’s a one.” She turned to the stallion next to her sharply. “Meadowsong, we need a medic team here yesterday, go!”

The guard hurried off, leaving the quartet of ponies all looking at one-another confusedly.

“Care to explain why you just broke protocol, corporal?” The unicorn asked, breaking the silence.

She pointed at me with a hoof, as if that was enough. “L.T., that thing is starving! Look at it, it can’t even get up!”

A chill went down my spine; even I understood that: I was dying.

As we waited for the medics to arrive, it gave me time to consider my position. Here, downed in some pony dungeon, to starve to death. I’d always thought that starving would be a painful and agonizing experience, slowly wasting away until I simply ceased to be. As famine was a widespread thing in the hive, its effects on the body are well documented, but not entirely understood.

It seemed that the first thing to go was the ability to feel pain. I was thankful for that, in some bizarre way.

The sound of stampeding hooves met my straining ears, and a group of ponies entered the cell. Everything was a blur, and my eyes were growing heavy. Here was my audience, then; those to witness my death. Not quite the friends and family I had imagined being surrounded by.

I surrendered my sight to the darkness, and my eyes drifted shut.

--

The head medic that had been summoned, Canterlot castle’s lead physician no less, blanched at the changeling on the cot before him. Hurriedly he put his stethoscope into his ears and placed the receptor onto the changeling’s chest, listening desperately for a heartbeat. He sighed faintly when he heard the dull bass thumps of the living, but kept himself tense at how faint they were.

The earth pony waved his staff closer. “Subject is a changeling…” his eyesight drifted ‘south’ for a moment before snapping back to the changeling in general, “male, suffering from potentially fatal malnutrition; he appears to be asleep, but may have passed into a coma. Make him more comfortable; keep his horn and wings free.”

“Steady, he doesn’t have wings,” one of his staff informed him, “he appears to have lost them somewhere, and all that remains are stems where they would grow in.”

He nodded faintly. “I see; well, keep them from taking any further damage.” He turned on the unicorn guard in the room. “What have you been feeding him?”

The guard stepped aside and motioned to the stew. “This, but it’s very hearty. It should have been putting on weight.”

The medic shook his head. “That’ll barely keep him going. We need something that his body can properly process.” He pointed to a pegasus guard standing in the doorway. “You; go and get one of the princesses as fast as you can, we don’t have time to waste.”

The guard in question nodded and ran off through the castle in search of the first available monarch. In the interim, the medical ponies pulled out an assortment of instruments and inspected their patient. One of the nurses noticed something odd and motioned for the doctor.

“Doctor, have you seen this?” She asked.

He shook his head and moved over. “Seen what?”

She motioned to their patient, specifically his hind legs. “Look at these abrasions; I don’t think I’ve ever seen an injury pattern like this before, have you?”

He observed the markings before nodding faintly and turning to the unicorn guard. “Lieutenant, who feeds him his meals, does anypony observe him otherwise?”

“We bring in its food and watch it eat.”

“How has he been walking, moving over to the food?”

The unicorn looked toward the other guards standing around the room as if looking for support before he replied, “It has been dragging its hindquarters whenever it moves; we just assumed that it was weak.”

With a sigh, the earth pony doctor turned back to his patient and began to fetch some gauze and pads from his supply saddlebags. With a careful nudge he rolled his patient onto his belly, pausing only to look at a strange bulge at the base of his tail. He stared at it, blinking slowly, before sighing again and continuing to wrap his patient’s wounds.

“Doctor, what is this?” A nurse asked, nudging the curious bulge. “I’ve never seen anything like it. It’s not soft like a fleshy cancer, but…”

“Do not touch that, nurse;” he snapped sharply, “it’s bad enough as it is.” He finished wrapping the changelings’ legs and looked over at his subordinate. “That’s his spine.”

“I’ve never seen a spine that looks like-”

“It’s broken.” He cut in, watching her jolt back with mild amusement, “It looks like the vertebrae in question has not only dislocated, but completely severed from his spinal column. It would explain why he could only drag his hindquarters. Unfortunately, there’s nothing we can do about it; in the princesses’ cases, we would only need to realign the affected vertebrae and let their alicorn healing do the rest, but in anypony else it’s an inoperable condition.”

The echoing sounds of approaching hooves met their ears, and they turned to the door to bow as both princess Celestia and Luna entered, each eyeing the comatose changeling on the cot. Celestia spoke first, “Doctor Steady, if you would?”

He cleared his throat and nodded. “Right, well, we were brought down to the dungeons upon summons by a guard. He said that they had a prisoner in critical condition, and we collected what supplies we could before hurrying down here. I’m surprised, to be honest, that the changeling has lasted as long as he has with only minimal nutrition, clearly a testament to their durability.

“To make the explanation short, princesses, he’s slipped into a starvation coma. If he’s not supplied with the correct nutrition in an acceptable quantity, he’s going to die, possibly within the next few hours.”

Luna shuffled her hooves. “What do you require of us?”

The doctor smiled faintly, thankful that they were willing to listen. “I require raw magic to be filtered through his horn. It may sound like an odd request, but it will hopefully save his life. You see, we did some autopsies and dissection of deceased changelings from within Canterlot, and we discovered that their horn, while giving them the ability to cast magic, acts like a sort of filter for mana.”

He waved across the changeling comatose next to him. “Their body only gains true sustenance from positive emotive energy, such as love, friendship, compassion, and so on. If raw mana is drawn or forced through their horn, however, it filters into a sort of ‘neutral’ positive emotion which they can gain nourishment from. Now, I would have asked for a volunteer guard or staff member to feed him, but, well, look at him. He needs a massive amount of feed to recover from this, and I’m worried that that much magic could drain a normal pony.

“Furthermore, your highnesses, he appears to have suffered severe trauma to his lower spine. This trauma has severed his spinal cord, as evidenced by his inability to walk and having been dragging his hind limbs whenever he was to eat.”

“It explains why he shook his head at us when he was ordered to get into the seat in the interrogation room.” Princess Luna mumbled, as if finally connecting the dots. “He wasn’t refusing, he knew he couldn’t.”

Princess Celestia sighed, stepping closer to the comatose changeling and lighting her horn up. She dipped her head, tapping the tip of her horn to his and forcing a trickle of raw, un-channelled magic into him. It took a moment, but his body soon accepted the magic and she gasped as she felt her magic being pulled out of her by his body greedily. Desperately; like a pony dying of dehydration drinking from an offered bottle. Such powerful subconscious instincts to feed were impressive, but soon it halted and let her go, allowing her to step back a little dazed.

So much magic, into one little changeling! She was impressed that he was capable of taking so much, but soon noticed that his horn gave off a golden glow, the glow of her own magic. Perhaps he hadn’t taken all of it directly in, but his body drew in what his horn could store, and was now going about filtering it so he could gain his desperately needed nourishment..?

“This will change some procedures in containing changelings;” she mumbled, “we cannot use magic inhibitor rings on their horns, at least not full-time, as that would cut off their ability to feed and risk them starving to death.” She hummed to herself for a moment or two before giving a faint smile. “Lieutenant, I would like the changeling to be moved to one of our guest rooms.”

“But princess, what about-”

“If you are worried about him escaping, well, we need only go over what we have learned in the last few minutes; he cannot walk, he has no wings with which to fly, and he is on the verge of starvation. If he can manage to escape in such a condition, we will need to send the royal guard back through training so that they can manage to learn how to capture weak, crippled prisoners who can barely drag themselves across the floor.”

The unicorn grimaced at her sharp jab, despite her tone being her usual friendly self, and nodded to the guards still standing around the room. “Very well, your highness; however I will be posting guards outside that room.”

“Of course,” she replied calmly.

--

I didn’t know for how long I had slept; it felt like a matter of minutes, but as I later learned was actually days. I groaned as I awoke, wondering why death felt so bad. I didn’t remember feeling anything as I slipped into the land of the dead, so feeling so utterly pitiful was new. My eyes opened heavily, barely responding to my body as I struggled to see where I was.

This wasn’t my cell.

The walls were painted white, and some silver and dark coloured wood framed paintings hung around them in what I suppose must be some form of artistic way. An alcove with a wide frame, also made of dark wood and silver, lay across from me, and there were a pair of doors, one on the wall to what I assume is my south, and the other near the alcove.

A second groan escaped my lips as I struggled to raise my forequarters and head from the admittedly soft bed, and I pulled myself from the mattress with difficulty, my read end thudding to the rug heavily.

I dragged myself to the alcove inset into the wall, looking at it curiously. It was clearly cleaned very thoroughly, but I could see indications that a fire would be lit within this alcove, though for what purpose I did not know.

One of the doors suddenly clicked open, and my attention swung violently to see who was coming in, only to see a pegasus mare in a strange black and white frilly uniform staring back at me. We blinked at one another for a moment before she stepped back out of the door and closed it behind her, leaving me nonplussed at her sudden entrance and exit.

It wasn’t long before the door opened again, this time a trio of ponies entering; the same trio from the white room that I remember being taken to back when all of this had started. As before, the attention of the Mistress of the Sun and the Mare in the Moon bore down on me, and I cowered from it. I kept my gaze in their direction, but as they approached me, I turned and crawled away from them, further into the corner farthest from them.

I was a few feet from reaching the corner when they stopped at the Mistress of the Sun’s request; her eyes having widened in what I can assume was some sort of realization. She turned to her sister, the darker mare, and after a few obviously silent messages between them, nodded and lay down. Her eyes never left mine, but she lowered herself to the ground, head put atop her forelegs, and simply waited. Her sister and the guard did the same, though I could feel the frustration pouring off of the guard from where I lay.

For a dreadful few minutes, this was all that happened, and I turned more towards them before adopting a position similar to their own. I couldn’t feel my flanks, legs, or tail, so I couldn’t be sure how well I mimicked their position.

I noticed a cheeky smile spread across the Mistress of the Sun’s face, and her horn start to glow faintly, to which I cringed back, hoping she wasn’t going to do anything to me. At my reaction, her magic faded to a dull, barely visible glow, but she never let her kind-looking eyes drift from my own.

What was she doing..?

That was when I felt the raw magic in the air pick up; becoming concentrated to a point I could hear it sparking off of my horn in an effort to ground itself. Cautiously I drew it in, allowing my horn to filter the mana into my body, all the while gauging the look from the Mistress of the Sun before me, evidently providing the mana my body was consuming.

The mana around me suddenly depleted, I blinked confusedly; her horn was still lit, and I was sure that there was no way I could use it up so quickly. I swivelled my head, eyes closed, trying to find where there was some mana, only to find some and crawl towards it. Again, the mana was gone faster than I thought I could have drained it, and I again followed it across the room.

This continued for a little while, in silence only filled with the sounds of me dragging my body behind me as I chased the mana. I stopped only when the mana did, having chased it across the room. My eyes slowly opened, and my vision was filled with white fur. Slowly my vision moved up, and my eyes met the Mistress of the Sun’s playful gaze. I ducked my head, and my ears pinned themselves to my scalp as I cowered in her presence.

With a sigh, she lowered her head and gently nuzzled my cheek before whispering “Hello,” into my ear.

I shivered in fear, cowering from her as best I could while she did little more than smile down at me warmly, seemingly watching me and waiting for me to calm down. It took a little while, but I did eventually stop shivering in her presence. Instead, I waited for her next action as I sat practically in her lap. The smell of her perfume, flowery and sweet, assailed my nose and made me feel a little bit light-headed. Why was she stalling, what was she playing at..?

“So,” she began, making my ears twitch at the sudden audible intrusion to the calmness of the room, “are you feeling better? I assume that your little meal just now was quite pleasant, did you enjoy it?”

Unable to respond otherwise, I nodded. I could speak, of course, but I was still afraid of this mare and didn’t trust my own voice to actually work properly.

I could hear her smile in her next words, “That’s good,” She had said, “I apologise for the change in environment, but I assumed that you would do better somewhere that we could open the windows and allow you access to the excess magic in the air.” She lowered her head down next to mine and gently continued, “Tell me, do you know why you cannot walk?”

Again I nodded, flinching away from her slightly. In my head I realized that I must’ve looked like a frightened animal to them.

“Do you know how this happened to you; are you able to tell us?”

I shivered again, struggling to make my body co-operate with me as my mouth opened feebly. “Y-yes…” I’d managed to wheeze this word, so long after my last; my vocal cords were uncomfortable and rough. I myself was unused to the sound of my own voice.

The Mistress of the Sun smiled and rested her head gently atop my own, gently moving back and forth in a strange gesture which made me feel slightly more comfortable in her presence. “Please, tell us.” She breathed gently, as if urging a frightened child to reveal their greatest secret to her. “Tell us what you are comfortable with. We have so many questions, but we will go at your pace; what is your name? What did you do before the invasion? What are your thoughts about your current predicament? So many questions that we would like to ask, but with your prior reactions to us, we shall go at your pace.”

I nodded faintly, trying to avoid poking her throat with my sharp horn. “M… my name is Buzz.” I managed to say. “B-before the invasion I was a worker. I dug tunnels.”

“You dug tunnels?”

I nodded again, “Tunnels and chambers for changelings, new rooms for sleeping chambers, and new rooms for expansion. I did my work, was ignored by nobles, not labelled as an excess body, not culled like so many others…

“During the invasion, I was just another body, someling else to wade into pony defences, to protect those who needed protection, our young and nobles.” I shivered as I recalled my purpose in the invasion: a meat shield for those behind me. “I was ordered to capture six ponies, the bearers of the Elements of Harmony or something. I don’t remember why they were important. I recall being struck by the orange one, Apple-something, and being left where I fell by my hive. I was expendable. The next thing I can remember was being hit by a wall of pure love magic, and flung into the air.

“I’ve never been a strong flier, but the magic dazed me and it wouldn’t have mattered even if I were a good flier. I watched my hive scattered to the winds, and then…” I shook my head, tears stinging my eyes as I fought to keep them in, “next thing I can remember is waking up in an alley, unable to walk and lying in my own blood…” I shuddered in my next breath, feeling myself starting to fall apart emotionally. “I-I’d struck a brick w-wall during my fall. My wings w-were gone, my spine b-broken, and my hunger worse than e-ever.”

The Mistress of the Sun nodded and ever so gently put her hooves around my withers and pulled me closer, successfully hugging me as I broke into tears and wept openly in her embrace. I’d come so close to death; twice if the last time I went to sleep was any indication. It had taken up until now for it to strike me just how lucky I was, possibly one of the few lucky ones left.

The calm lasted as long as I wept, a good ten minutes or so, and when my tears abated, so did the respectful silence.

“Changeling, can you tell us why no diplomacy was attempted before the invasion?” The stallion to her side asked firmly.

I shook my head confusedly. “What is?”

The Mistress of the Sun was the one to respond to my question; “Diplomacy is when two nations, states, or cultures have talks. These talks can be used to create peace, alert others of major problems such as famine and call for aid, or to negotiate deals.” She said matter-of-factly.

I shook my head again. “I don’t know; I am a worker. Do your workers know how Equestria is run day-to-day? Do Equestrian workers know how military functions? I am a worker. I know my place.”

The Mistress of the Sun sighed and nodded, nuzzling my head a little. “I understand,” she said gently, “now, is there anything else you can tell us about yourself?”

I nodded, “I… I would sneak some of the larger pieces of stone from my digs to my own cave and… and sculpt.” I said, as if I were saying something sacrilegious.

I felt her pull back, and after a moment her eyes met mine, her face… unreadable. “You say it as if it’s a bad thing.” She commented.

“Sculpting… creativity is… bad in a worker. What use do I have for sculpting when my only task is to dig? I don’t need to be creative to make holes.”

She smiled. “Well, here being creative is a good thing. You see the paintings about the walls? Each of them was created by an artisan, a pony who excelled at their craft, at their creativity. Their work can be enjoyed by ponies for centuries to come. Long after they themselves have passed, their personality is preserved by their beautiful works of art.”

“I see.” I mumbled in reply. “But my works are back at the hive, beyond reach.”

The Monarch of the Sun only chortled amusedly. “Give us some time. In the meanwhile, there are books around the room that you can read if you feel bored. I’m certain that, with the little extra magic you’ve gained from our meeting, you will have enough to fetch them from your bed, hmm?”

With that she carefully stood, and I felt her magic wrap around my body before gently moving me over to the bed I had woken from. With a cheerful smile, she nodded to me and left, taking her guard with her. Her sister, the Mare in the Moon, paused at the door to levitate a book over to me, placing it in my hooves.

“I suggest this novel,” she said, “I hear it’s quite good.”

She smiled at me and stepped out, and I glanced down at the book in my hooves; something called ‘Lunar Heart’.

--

The next thing I knew, a voice snapped me back to reality. I remember opening the book, and I can recall reading a dozen chapters, almost two thirds of the book… how long had I lay here reading through this?

My attention snapped up from the curious tome to see the Mistress of the Sun standing just inside the room and smiling over at me. A pair of guards had entered farther in the room, one a unicorn placing a heavy-looking table with a large block of stone, the other an earth pony with a leather bag.

What in the world is this all about?

“Enjoying your book, Buzz?” The Mistress of the Sun asked playfully, “The author lives here in the castle, I could extend your thoughts perhaps?”

I blinked at her confusedly, trying to understand what she was asking. Was I enjoying the book? I nodded to her; yes, I suppose I was enjoying the book. I’d not put it down since I started reading it, and if the way that the shadows have changed place in the room, I’ve been engrossed in the book for hours.

She smiled warmly. “I’ll let Crescent Scribe know, I’m sure she’ll be overjoyed.” Her attention moved to the block of stone and bag now abandoned in the room, the guards having left the room. “You mentioned before that you had a hobby of sculpting; I managed to arrange for this to be brought to you, to see your skill for myself. The bag contains tools for stone-carving, and the table is enchanted to be light when magically handled, so if you need to move it, you can.

Her gaze turned steely as she focused back on me, sending a chill up my spine. “Take note, however, that it is also warded to be incapable of causing harm, and your tools are enchanted to dissolve should they be used to assault living creatures. Do not test our trust, do you understand?”

I nodded furiously, my ears pinned to my scalp. No wonder horror tales were told about this mare in the Hive; she could glare like nothing I’d ever met.

Her glare faded somewhat. “Good;” she intoned, “now, I’ll open the window for you to get some ambient magic into the room. I look forward to seeing what you create with your time. Have a good night.” With that, she turned and left, closing the door behind herself.

This left me blinking at where she’d last been, trying to think about what I could possibly do now. The spell broken, I placed a slip of card that was in the back of the book into where I’d last been reading, figuring that this would be a good way to stop myself from losing my place should I want to go back to it.

My attention now turned to the table and block of stone, and I magically brought them over to me, as well as the bag of tools, and I began looking through what I had. A metal chisel and hammer, a file… there are some other strange looking things in here, as well as a range of smaller chisels for detailed work. What these other tools were for I had no idea, I’d never seen them before.

With a shrug, I magically lifted the chisel and hammer and began to ship away at the block. Making what, exactly? Well, I admit I didn’t know at first.

It wasn’t until the next day that it took shape.

--

I’d been working through the night, not feeling tired at any point, and the carving I’d been working on had taken form during that time. With nothing distracting me during the night, having access to the ambient magic in the air to feed, I’d managed to get much headway into what I was working on. I’d already worked my way down to the smallest chisels for fine details.

This was something I could never do in the Hive; my work was always rushed and roughly carved, needing to use my large digging tools to carve with. If I’d been caught doing anything, I doubt that I could have escaped punishment.

Once again I didn’t notice when somepony entered, only being snapped from my focus by a soft voice. “My, such skill; I must say that I find myself pleasantly impressed from one so young.”

The chisel and hammer in my magical grip flung themselves to far corners of the room as I jolted in shock, and my eyes swung up to the pony who had entered, the Mare in the Moon. She smiled amusedly as her horn glittered with her magic and the flung tools returned themselves to the table.

“I apologise, I should have announced my entrance, but I found your work too impressive and was distracted observing it.” She said with a smile. “As a fellow artist, I find your work most pleasing.”

I blinked at her confusedly, silently asking a question that she answered, “Oh, yes, I am an artist; I paint the night sky, after all. My sister has not much of an eye for art, preferring things that she likes over critiquing things she does not, but I consider myself quite the patron of fine art. Your work is quite good; you have much skill with your tools and a good eye for detail.”

I nodded, looking back at the statuette that I had carved through the night, not sure what exactly she was talking about. It was… alright, I suppose. Missing something, I thought, a certain… I don’t know what.

A thought occurred to me, and I began to carefully carve replicas of the Mistress of the Sun and Mare in the Moon’s cutie marks beneath the little statuettes of them. The block had been placed on its side, and I used the stone available to carve their likenesses, each standing tall and regal as if addressing their ponies.

Their ponies… The thought had struck me so hard and so suddenly that to this day I am unsure where it came from. It was a twofold dilemma; their ponies, and their ponies. It was no wonder I could feel the distrust of the guards from where I lay, no wonder I felt out of place no matter how into my activities I had thrown myself.

I was neither.

I was of the Hive, my Queen was my monarch, and I her little changeling, but… well, that came with conditions. Unwavering loyalty was one of them, alongside undying devotion. Another condition was that we stay useful. Have purpose. It’s something that changelings strive to find, but often fail to do. My purpose was to dig; the defenders’ purpose was to guard the Hive, and the queens’ to rule it. With exception of the queen, if we were unfit to fulfil our purpose we were, well, dead weight.

I glanced at the black and white mark on the Mare in the Moon’s flank glumly. Ponies were so lucky; the minute they acquired that mark, they knew what their purpose was. They knew what they were destined to do better than any other being, for their tenure in life anyway. Changelings, however? Once we lost our designated purpose, be it from injury, age, or the task no longer being required, would either be given a new purpose or would be culled.

As per the rules, the code by which the Hive ran, I was now dead weight. I can’t walk, run, canter, gallop, hop, skip, jump, or skedaddle. If I were to attempt to return, well, I would die. I’d probably die on the way from predators, Diamond Dogs, or just ponies overreacting to me. Ponyfeathers, I would probably die from dragging my legs over the terrain and get an infection of some sort which would kill me off.

So why am I feeling so miserable right now, you ask? What was my thought that had brought me to an emotional standstill? I am not of Equestria, but I’m not of the Hive either.

I’m… nothing.

With a sigh I levitated the carving off of the table and onto the floor, sliding it safely into a nook between the bed I lay on and the bedside cabinet. My magic then pulsed, and all of the small chips and dust from my work spiralled into the air over the table. The cloud condensed into a cube, and a final flare of red-orange light from within the cracks made the cube solid and smooth.

No sense wasting good materials, after all.

“That was impressive; I’ve not seen such skill with raw stone in a long time.”

I shrugged, hefting the hammer and large chisel once more. “When one works with stone to stay alive, skill with it becomes second nature.” With a huff I chipped away at the stone, trying to find that sweet bliss of distraction as I felt moisture snake down my cheek. “Sorry, but… could I be alone for a while? I… I want to be alone.”

Out of the corner of my eye I could see her expression soften. “Of course; have a good day.”

--

My carving long since finished, I was gently running my magic across the stone to sand away any little imperfections and buff them to a smooth finish. I could feel my exhaustion creeping up on me, trying to drag me into the welcoming embrace of sleep, but I wanted to at least get this final step finished.

Buffing finished, I moved the third statuette and its sister to the top of the bedside cabinet, placing them alongside one another. I’d found a sheet of paper, quill and inkpot inside the cabinet earlier and I’d already written what I was going to call the trio of statuettes onto it. Weighed down by the stone, the paper remained in place, and I let myself relax into the bed.

Sleep s… sleep sounded good right about now. My eyes, having been open for over a day, finally closed, bathing me in the comforting relief of exhausted organs resting for the first time in too long.

My breathing deepened, and I let sleep claim me from the mortal realm.

--

A guard pushed the door to the changeling’s room open, allowing the Royal Sisters to enter. They walked slowly and with less sound than he imagined a creature with hooves could manage. Magic, he supposed, is a marvellous thing.

The mares approached the bed, observing their guest curiously.

“He sleeps as if he were dead.” Celestia mumbled to her sister quietly. “… You are sure he is not dead, yes?”

Luna sighed at her sister. “Princess of the Night and Dreams, sister; it is as if you forget the titles we have been granted, Princess of the Sun and Wisdom.”

Celestia rolled her eyes. “Alright, sister, you've made your point.”

“Why are we here while he sleeps in any case, sister? Not that we are barred from any room in our own home, mind, it’s just… do we distrust him or something? It’s not like he poses a threat.”

Celestia shook her head. “No; well, yes, I suppose. He is of a race which has shown hostility toward Equestria, we need to know everything we can about them.”

Luna’s eyes scanned the writing on a piece of paper beneath the statuettes that the changeling had carved before flicking up at the stone sculptures themselves. Her breath hitched, something in her head going ‘click’ quite harshly, and she turned around to the door.

“Lulu, is something the matter?” Celestia asked to her sister’s retreating back.

To Luna’s credit, she only gave the faintest of twitches to look back at her sister before shaking her head. “No, dear sister; I have seen all I need to.”

Celestia blinked at her sister’s odd behaviour, turning to try and see what had triggered it. Her eyes danced across the changelings’ sleeping form, across to the wall, down to the floor –making her acutely aware that she was standing amidst the remains of a stone block- and finally to the bedside cabinet.

The statuettes were… she wasn’t sure what word to use. Beautiful, would work; or perhaps charming? Her sister was the artistic one; she would know better how to interpret what she was looking at and how to describe it.

Four figures, two of them were her and her sister, and a third the changeling queen they had… hosted temporarily, the fourth appeared to be the changeling in question himself. The three mares, standing tall, were positioned to be looking away from the smaller figure. As the queen’s figure had been carved into the same stone as the smaller changeling, she was in a permanent position to look away from him.

They looked… haughty, in a word. Especially so the queen, who seemed almost pleased that she was facing away. She glanced down at the note, trying to understand it.

“’Nothing’..?” She breathed confusedly, “what on Equus..?”

She stared at it puzzled for a few moments more before turning and leaving, following the signal of her sister’s magic. If anypony could interpret this for her it would be her little Lulu.

She found her younger sister in her room, sitting by her fireplace and staring at a large painting above the mantelpiece. It was a large, seemingly bland image of a dark, star-speckled sky and an endless off-white landscape littered with holes and small hills.

“Sister..?”

Luna jolted a little before turning to her sister and giving her an expectant look. “Yes?”

“Are you alright? You went quiet and simply left the changeling’s room, is something the matter?”

Luna considered her for a long while before turning back to the painting. “Yes.”

Celestia slipped into the room and closed the door behind her, stepping over and sitting alongside her sister, whose gaze never left the landscape.

“The painting,” Luna began, apropos of nothing, “is something I painted when I first returned to Equestria. It’s both something to remind me of the wrongs of my past and the consequences of my actions, and how I felt during the time upon my moon. You may realize that it is the surface of my moon, as was its intention, but beneath the simple imagery in any art-form is meaning. What does the art mean to the one who created it?

“I wouldn’t wish my banishment upon anypony, sister; total isolation, nothing but your own thoughts and a bleak, dead landscape to keep you occupied. The changeling, Buzz, though… what he is going through… that is a form of isolation I can understand. It is a feeling that I have felt myself, long ago…” She sighed and nuzzled into her sister’s shoulder, “for once I was the one without purpose, the one who was alone amongst the crowd.

“The positioning of the statues is everything to the story, I’m afraid. His queen has turned her back on him, as he has said, he cannot return to the Hive from which he was born; and we are not his monarchs. We cannot treat him like one of our little ponies, because he isn’t. Ponies will fear, revile, and pity him; he can never find a home amongst others, for the only others around would sooner turn him in to the royal guard to have locked up.

“More than that, though; he said that his purpose was to dig. I do not think that he can dig any longer.” She sighed and looked up at her sister, “What purpose does he have now? To simply lie in bed and exist? What kind of life is that? No, I will not allow such sorrow to claim any other; one Nightmare is one too many.”

“What do you suggest then, sister? What can we do for him?”

Luna shook her head, her gaze returning to the painting for a long few moments. The silence between the two sisters, thick and contemplative, was broken by a guard bursting the door open.

“Highnesses, we tried to stop him, but we couldn’t deter him; we need your assistance in the changelings’ room at once!”

The sisters gazed at him confusedly, as if waiting for him to continue and explain the interruption. It was not every day that the royal guard deigned fit to burst open the door to a princess’ private abode like that, after all. As if by some form of natural life-preserving instinct, the guard blurted more under the pressure.

“The Prince has decided to take it upon himself to ‘take care’ of the changeling and called us all traitors for attempting to dissuade him. Last we saw him, he was entering the guest suite wing.”

At this their collective brows flew skywards, only for Luna’s to then crease in anger not a moment later. Her horn flared brightly, and a sound like a bursting balloon followed this as she vanished from the room altogether.

--

I was jolted awake by the crash of the outside door to the room I resided within being flung open and slamming against the wall. In swaggered in a unicorn stallion, white coat and blonde mane, a weird pointy thing on his flank his only read features beyond his look of superiority. He moved in as if he owned the room, and glared at me as if I’d insulted his whole family.

In his magical grip he held a sabre with a golden basket hilt, and he hefted it in my direction.

“The guard may be too cowardly, but you’ll find no quarter from me, monster!” He snapped angrily. “It would be fitting that such worthless scum should be dispatched by royalty; after all, my aunt was hurt by one of you cockroaches, it’s only fair if I return the favour!”

He lunged across the room, swinging his blade to strike me as he did; entangled within the sheets of the bed, groggy from sleep, and disabled, I could only cower, cover my eyes, and wait for the end.

I never felt the blade strike me; instead I heard a pop of displaced air followed by the harsh clash of metal striking metal. After a moment, I peeped open an eye and glanced up at where I was sure the blade would be, to see a second blocking it from striking me and the Mare in the Moon’s magic holding the new sword's handle.

“A-auntie Luna, what are you-“

Her voice cut through the air like a hurricane, the sheer volume alone akin to a thunderclap, and her fury palpable in the air.

“You dare attack a guest in our home, honorary prince Blueblood?”

The unicorn, for his credit, only shook faintly in his horseshoes as she bellowed at him. I saw him swallow before speaking.

“I-I would hold accountable those that have wronged Equestria, not host them in one of our suites! It should be in the dungeon, for the rest of its days!” His sword retracted before being swung at me again, once more making me cower. “It should pay for what it has done!”

The clashing of blades continued for a few minutes, each one a trip into new levels of fright at the thought that the only thing standing between me and this madpony was one of his monarchs. A final, resounding clang echoed out in the room and a thud hit the wall by the still-open door.

“You would do well to know your place, young prince; you do not hold power over life and death. Nopony does, as nopony is worthy of such power. You will leave for your own suite and you will not reappear until summoned, do you understand?” A moments’ silence stilled the room before she snarled once again, “good.”

Hurried hoofsteps clattered away from the room, and the silence in the room echoed for a few moments before short and quiet hoofsteps moved towards where I cowered on the bed. They stopped just short, and I felt a pair of legs wrap around my shoulders and lift me up into a gentle embrace. My eyes cracked open, allowing me to see that the Mare in the Moon was the one holding me.

Why… why? Why had she defended me from one of her own? Why was she now trying to comfort me? What on Equus was going on?

“You are unharmed, Buzz?” She asked, getting a nod in response. “That is most fortunate. I have seen your work, beside your bed. I… I know how you feel, alone and ignored; I too have felt the sting of isolation. It is something I would wish upon no one.”

“Why?” I asked, for once letting my mouth run how it wished while my cheeks played host to the streaks of tears once more, “I have no purpose anymore, no home… I cannot be of my hive any longer, but I am not one of your ponies. I’m… nothing.”

She chortled, “None of us are nothing,” she intoned, “we, all, are someone, something. Mare, stallion, changeling, pony, gryphon, whatever; we all have the power to find purpose where we want it. If you cannot find purpose for yourself, my little changeling, then I shall grant you one.”

Her magic collected around the bag of tools sitting atop the table I had been working on and gently, almost reverentially, placed it within hoof’s reach.

“I want you to take up your tools and carve. Make masterpieces the likes of which the world has never seen. Find purpose in making me proud of the things that a fellow artist can create with but simple tools, things that future generation can look upon and say wondrous things about. Should you long for company, I am but a call away.

“I will aid you as best I am able, even aid you in meeting others like us, artists who long for companionship, or who can look beyond the outside appearance to see what lies within.”

I shivered as her instructions settled within my head. “What would you have me carve, my Queen?”

She giggled amusedly. “Please, no queens, merely Princess, or Luna if you would; and I would have you carve whatever your heart desires. Make beauty with your hammer and chisel; be yourself. That is all I can ask.”

A nod at first, digesting the command. Just… be me? Just become my craft, my art? I suppose I didn’t have any other choices. “Thank you, Princess.”

She smiled and helped me rest back onto my bed, pulling the sheets over me gently. “Thank me after you have met the first mare I have in mind, she is liable to attempt to clothe you.”

I chuckled faintly, letting a smile grace my muzzle as I slipped back into the land of nod. “That sounds… fun.” I managed to yawn.

“Goodnight, my little changeling.”

I smiled wide as the world left me. “Goodnight… my princess.”

Author's Note

It started as an exercise into getting myself back in the first-person mindset for Coin's Face and just sort of... kept going. I'm SUPER SORRY (NOT SORRY) that you get this instead of another Coin's Face chapter, but that is my next work, I pinkie swear.

Wait, no, not pinkie swear; I don't want to be harassed by her should I not fulfill the promise.

Anyway, comments would be awesome, of course, and I will admit, yes, I do seem to be a bit of a one-trick-pony with Changeling stories. I'll be the first to admit, I may have issues; I like the species, okay? So much potential to play with...

Ah well, until next time,

-Silent Quill.