The bright moon shines down and casts the city of Canterlot in a silvery glow. Built on the side of a mountain, any individual would understand why the city is known to most as 'The Center of the World' simply by entering the magnificent city. No matter where in the city that individual would go, they would always be able to view Canterlot Castle, the place from which the mighty Princesses who raise and lower the sun and the moon hold court. The capitol city of the mightiest nation of the world certainly lives up to its name.
Through these well-maintained streets, a single individual walks with confidence in the depths of the night. Despite the late hour, he moves without fear or hesitation, his hooves striking against the ground and creating an irregular drumbeat. The individual stops at a street corner and takes a deep breath, enjoying how the smell and taste of the air play at his senses. He enjoys the clean, clear air of the mountain city, as it is so different from what he is used to. Far more familiar is he with the rich, deep scents associated with a heavy forest. The pale moonlight glints off his golden armour and gives it a silvery tint while his fur, white as the driven snow, rustles and flows in the refreshingly cool breeze.
He begins walking again, the only sounds he can hear are the clanking of his armour and the drumming of his hooves on the bare cobblestone streets as he passes by rows upon rows of darkened houses, empty windows staring down at him like silent sentinels. The individual stops for a moment to tighten the straps of the armour, and when he begins moving again, the clanking is gone. The golden armour, the official armour of Equestria's royal guard, fits him perfectly. Just as it perfectly fit the guard he took it from.
He had considered asking for the armour instead of taking it by force. Considered it for about three seconds. A good record for him.
The individual continues for several minutes before finally coming to a halt in the great shadow of Canterlot Castle itself. The walls of the castle loom high above his head, the mighty fortifications serving as a significant deterrent to any wrongdoers that might want to slip over them.
However, the individual has no intention of sneaking over them. After a quick glance around to get his bearings, he turns and begins walking towards the front gate. His steps are smooth and unerring as he approaches the grand gateway, giving every appearance that he is supposed to be there. The guards set to protect the gate don't respond as he walks straight past them, not even realizing they just failed to challenge an imposter as he trots directly towards the seat of government for the most powerful nation in the world.
His left ear flicks once as he watches the guards out of the corners of his eyes. He's not sure if he should be flattered by how easy it was for him to sneak in, or insulted. In fairness to the guards, it's not every day they have to defend themselves against a shapeshifter. As a changeling, the false pony can make himself look like anyone. He smiles at the thought, the break in his stern demeanour hidden by the dark night. Being a changeling is awesome.
After the changeling moves out of sight of the guards, he cautiously slips out of sight behind a nearby bush and discards the stolen armour before quickly shoving it out of sight. There's a flash of green fire and his fur is burnt away, the pure white fur vanishing in an instant to be replaced with a smooth black carapace.
In the transformation, the changeling gains nearly four times his height in an instant. He staggers for a moment, momentarily disorientated by the abrupt shift in perspective before shaking off the feeling of vertigo and dropping to the ground. His ears perk up and he listens for the sound of an alarm being raised or any other noises that would be raised if someone spotted his transformation. After nearly a minute, the changeling lowers his guard, confident that the flash of green fire went unnoticed.
The individual lowers himself to the ground and slinks in the shadows towards the grand castle. There's a close moment when a pair of guards nearly stumble upon his hiding spot but the changeling freezes and the guards don't notice as they walk right past him, close enough that he could reach out a hoof and touch them. He remains still until they are well out of sight, and only then does he allow himself to continue. After a few minutes of continuous stealth, he manages to reach the long shadow cast by the castle while remaining undetected.
Glancing furtively around to make that sure the area around him is empty, the changeling presses a single hoof against the smooth marble surface of the castle wall. The hoof is followed by a second, then a third, and finally a forth. Remaining completely silent, he proceeds to walk straight up the vertical wall, ignoring gravity and the laws of physics with as much difficulty as if he's walking down a dusty road. The giant bug allows himself a smirk, enjoying the ability of his species. Have I mentioned that being a changeling is awesome? Because being a changeling is awesome.
He creeps up the wall, passing window after window without stopping until he reaches one window in particular and pulls it open with a disappointed shake of my head. Seriously, these ponies need to invest in some locks or something, he thinks. What would they do if it was some sort of horrible monster that was trying to slip into the castle instead of me?
Most ponies wouldn't see a distinction, but that's fine with him. He's not here to see 'most ponies'.
A loud snore fills the room and shakes him out of him speculative thoughts. He shuts the window closed behind him before the snores attract curious guards while giving the individual snoring away without a care in the world a considering look. You know, watching her like this, snoring away and sounding like a runaway chainsaw, you really wouldn't think of her as the most powerful individual in the world.
Her beautiful white fur, eternally untainted and unmarred by even the slightest speck of dirt, is a perfect match for that of any of her guards'. Her long and luscious rainbow mane, which flows in an invisible breeze while she's awake, is twisted around her neck as she sleeps. She's tall, far taller than most ponies and almost as tall as him. He has to suppress a snicker when he sees a small stream of drool trickling out of the corner of her mouth and creating a small puddle on her pillow.
"Celestia," he whispers, slipping to the side of her bed and giving her a gentle poke. She mumbles at him and raises a hoof to push him away, which he just watches with bemusement as it flails in front of his face.
"Go 'way, Luna," she mutters, fumbling in the air in a blind attempt to find the source of the pokes. "Don't haf to raise the sun yet."
Goddess of the Sun, right here, the changeling thinks with no small amount of amusement. Helios would be proud. With a roll of his eyes, he ducks his head down next to hers. "Sorry to disappoint," he say, his voice never breaking above a quiet whisper. "But I'm not your sister."
Celestia's eyes slowly slide open before shooting wide open at the sight of the giant changeling next to her bed. Thanks to his proximity, the changeling gets the rare experience of seeing Equestria's ruler's unguarded reaction as she lays eyes on him. First there's surprise at seeing his face only inches from her own, followed by fear -- either for herself or the guards he might have killed to reach her, he can't tell -- then suspicion at how he reached her, and only then is there a softening in her hard eyes as she recognizes who he is.
"Goooood morning, Celestia," he teases her at a quiet whisper. "Raise and shine, the day waits for no one."
Celestia blinks once before she pushes him back, pressing a hoof against his chest, and sitting upright. "Wha-" She is interrupted by a giant yawn, and needs to bring a hoof up to her mouth to cover it. "What are you doing here?"
He shrugs, never losing his smile. "Oh, you know. Maybe I just couldn't bear the thought of not seeing you for another night, Celestia."
"Wonderful." The changeling creases the chitin above one eye in an imitation of a raised eyebrow. Wow, that is an impressive amount of sarcasm she managed to deliver with a single word. Guess 'All-Loving Sun Goddess Celestia' doesn't start until dawn. However, Celestia isn't finished. "I've got the King of the Changelings as a creepy stalker."
He can't help it. He laughs. "I didn't know you had this side to you, Celestia," he teases, still keeping his voice to a low whisper. "I think I like it."
"Don't get used to it," she grumbles, waving a hoof futilely at him. "Now, what did you want? You can't have come here for no reason."
"Right you are," he cheerfully tells her as he take a seat on the corner of the bed, the fabric creasing underneath the unexpected weight. "Last time we met, I promised you a story. The story on how I became King."
The look she gives him is a mixture of incredulity and dismay. "Let me see if I have this right," she says, one of her eyes starting to twitch. "You snuck into Canterlot, slipped past all my guards, crept your way into my castle, and even broke into my room itself to wake me up at way too early o'clock... all so you could tell me a story?"
"Yep."
She stares at him in disbelief for several seconds before she drops her head in her hooves with a pain-filled groan.
"Oh, hush," he chides her, his smile remaining the same as he leans back on her plush bed. "It's not that bad. Besides, my changelings are marching off to war tomorrow, so I doubt we'll be able to see each other much after that." Thanks to his species' unique empathic ability, the changeling is able to sense as Celestia's emotions suddenly seem to freeze solid at his words, followed by a sort of bone-chilling sorrow so deep he could drown in it. Before she can say anything, he quickly move to cut her off, looking at her with an unusually serious expression on his face. "It's not your fault. You did everything you could. We both did."
"Did I?" she quietly asks, rubbing at one of her legs with the opposite hoof. "Surely there could have been something more I could have done. Something that could have prevented all this."
Sighing, he stretches a hoof out and grabs hold of the moving leg. "Celestia," he tells her firmly. "You and I both did everything we could to avert this. They demanded war, not us. Until we put an end to all this, both our people will only suffer."
She doesn't respond. After a few seconds, during which he realizes she isn't going to respond, he releases her hoof and sits upright. Seeing the immortal Sun Goddess depressed like this also has him feeling depressed, so he hurriedly speaks up in an attempt to change the topic. "Now then, I believe I owe you a story..."
============
My last memory was of my own death.
My name was... Hmm... Well, I suppose it's not important anymore. I had been up late one night studying for an exam I had first thing in the morning. The air in my old apartment was starting to feel a little stuffy so I decided to head out for a short run to clear my head.
Without so much as bothering to change out of my pajamas, I grabbed my jacket and MP3 player and headed out the door. There was a river running through the city not too far away from my apartment and it was my favourite place to jog whenever I had some free time.
The buzzing of the street lights was a constant litany that filled my ears before I switched on my music. With every inhalation, I felt the crisp and clear air entering my lungs. The night was perfect for a light run down the concrete path. The riverbed always felt so much differently during the night. Without any other people around, there was this quiet, almost serene feeling in the air. It was relaxing.
I had been jogging for almost half an hour when I spotted someone in the path ahead of me standing directly underneath a lamppost. From the size and stature of the person, I figured it was a young girl, probably still a high-school student. Long black hair fell over her face and obscured most of her features from my sight.
I called out to her, curious what such a young girl was doing on their own in the middle of the night like this. When she didn't respond, I walked up to her and repeated my question.
I barely even felt the knife entering my side.
I looked down in shock as an increasingly large red stain stated to spread through my jacket. It took my fuddled mind several seconds to realize that red liquid was my own blood. I reached for the knife sticking out of my body with shaking hands, but the girl pulled it away before I could grab it.
Weakness started to spread throughout my body, starting from the place where I had been stabbed, and my legs suddenly gave out underneath me. I landed heavily on my back just before the dagger pierced my body again, slipping between my ribs and slicing into my lung. The taste of iron flooded my mouth and I could feel my blood on my lips.
The girl landed on my chest, stabbing again and again and sending blood spraying everywhere. Oddly, I don't remember any pain. Looking up at the blood-soaked girl, the whole thing didn't even feel real. I just remember hearing the sound of screaming over the inappropriately cheery music coming from my MP3 player. Curious about the noise as darkness started to eat away at the edges of my vision, I looked up at the girl's face and realized that she was the one screaming.
Tears poured down her face as she stabbed me again and again, and the last thing I saw before the darkness claimed me entirely was her turning the knife on her own body.
I was a engineering student. One day, I wanted to design houses of my own. Structures, buildings, and all sorts of creations that would bring smiles to people faces or just quietly make their lives easier, I wanted to make it all. I even had a grand dream of one day creating a mighty skyscraper that would amaze and inspire people for years to come.
But, in the end, for all my dreams and aspirations, I died there on that riverbank.
I don't know what happened. I died, but I'm still alive. My first thought was that it had been nothing more than a dream. But I could still feel the pain and I knew that what had happened had been reality.
I was killed.
I'm still alive.
There was an insurmountable gap between those two thoughts. I couldn't understand it.
I didn't know what was going on.
I wanted to know.
I needed to know.
With a surprising amount of difficulty, I forced open my heavy eyelids and was immediately welcomed with the sight of an ugly insect-like pony creature thing standing above me. It had dragonfly-like wings, a twisted horn emerging from the center of its skull, pure black chitin, and horrifyingly piercing blue eyes that were pointed directly at me.
I might have screamed if I was able, but instead when I opened my mouth, there was only this odd chittering sound that escaped my throat.
The bug pony nodded in what appeared to be a self satisfied manner before it chittered down at me and walked away, leaving me alone to get my bearings.
I appeared to be in a small cavern underground. Despite the fact that I couldn't find any sources of light, I was still able to see everything around me as clearly as if I was standing in the middle of a sunny field.
Small white versions of the insect pony lay all around me, scattered around the floor like grubs. For some reason, my body was unable to move. I looked down at myself and saw what I had already expected to see: my body was just like theirs.
That was when I knew I had been reborn.
For whatever reason, I, a 20 year-old human male, had been killed and summarily reborn as a pony-like bug.
I think I'm gonna cry.
I had probably just been born, which explained why I was unable to move. With nothing to do, I spent the rest of the day as any infant would: sleeping.
It had been a long day, and I seriously needed a nap.
________
The next six months followed pretty much the same pattern. I slowly came to understand the limits and abilities of my new body while also learning the odd chittering language of the ponybugs.
I, as well as the other ponybugs, grew up fast. Unlike humans, who had largely tamed our world, these ponybugs seemed to live in dangerous areas and, as a result, were required to grow up fast in order to survive.
The other grubs and I were kept in a communal raising area, cared for by a number of adult ponybugs. I never found out who my mother or father were, but I quickly realized it didn't matter.
The leader of our raisers was this shriveled old husk of a ponybug. Everyone, including the other caretakers, called him 'Grandpa', so I did as well. Every night, Grandpa would come to our cavern and tell us stories. I knew that if I was to survive in this new world, I needed as much information as possible, so I always listened to Grandpa's tales. I didn't know why I had survived, but I intended to make the most out of this second chance at life.
Through these stories, I learned that the ponybugs were actually called 'changelings'. Apparently, we're a unique species that feeds off of both solid matter and magical energies. I wanted to scoff at the idea of eating magic, but a glance down at my white hooves reminded me that what I knew from my old life may no longer apply.
About five years before my rebirth, Chrysalis, the then-Queen of the Changelings, had led an all-out assault on the neighboring land of Equestria. Queen Chrysalis had managed to conquer their capital city and had even defeated their immortal god-like leader in one-on-one combat before she and her army were defeated by an unknown force. It sounded to me like she had been the villain in someone else's story and got deus-ex-machina'd at her moment of triumph.
===========
Yes, I know you know this. I'm just setting the stage.
Yes, you're very smart. Shut up.
===========
After her defeat, Queen Chrysalis vanished. No one knew if she died or if she simply couldn't bear to show her face to the subjects that she led to such a humiliating defeat but, regardless, she's gone. Without any clear leader to hold the hive together after the Queen's disappearance, the changeling kingdom shattered and broke up into hundreds of tiny little tribes.
Before the attack, none of the races had any idea of our existence. As shapeshifters, we were able to blend seamlessly into any residence and freely feed off the magic of the populace without fear of reprisal or discovery. Once our existence became public knowledge, there was a concentrated effort to root us out. We were forced to flee for our lives, disappearing into the deepest, darkest corners of the world.
The tribe I had been born to had fled into a place called the 'Everfree Forest.' Apparently, it's the most dangerous land in the entire world, but that also made it the safest area for us. Since all sorts of monsters and even dangerous plants filled the land, no pony would ever dare to enter the forest deep enough to find us.
While I was still maturing, I was never to permitted to leave the cave. It made sense to me, since an underdeveloped grub like myself would find nothing more than an instant death sentence out there. Everything in the forest was capable of bringing me to a painful death. Pretty much all of the animals and even some of the plants seemed to take some sort of malicious pleasure in delivering the most agonizing death possible to any unlucky creature they could.
Great. It sounds as if I'm now living in an evil forested version of Australia.
Otherwise known as 'Australia'.
Heyo!
Don't look at me like that, it's funny.
It was near the end of the six months when I realized that small fangs had started growing in my mouth. The fangs filled my mouth in rows in a manner akin to those of a shark's, but small enough that they were almost invisible unless you were actually looking for them. The only exceptions were a pair right at the front where my canines used to be. These grew much larger than the others, looking like the fangs of a snake. I figured that meant I was either a carnivore or omnivore, in addition to being a magicalivore or whatever the crap I am.
My chitin, which had started off as soft and squishy, began hardening and turning black, giving me a natural coat of protective armour. Tiny wings, like those of a fly's, also sprouted from my back, even though they were still far too small to allow me to take to the air. I spent several hours every day exercising them anyways, thoughts of one day being able to fly freely spurring me on.
The other infant changelings grew at a similar rate. I never paid much attention to any of them, caught up as I was with learning as much as I could about my own situation. There was thirty-three of us at the beginning, myself included.
At the end of six months, my body had finished maturing. I now looked like a smaller version of the adult changelings, standing at about half their size. A small twisted horn had even started to emerge from my skull, making me look like some silly twisted amalgam of a pegasus, a unicorn, and a bug.
Now that we had all matured, we were suddenly informed that we would now have to find our own food. The hive simply didn't have the resources to take care of us any longer.
For the first time in my short life, I left the cave I had been born in and wandered out in the dangerous forest.
That was my first hunt, and my first kill.