Queen of the Changelings:
The Stolen Throne

By Inkquill

PROLOGUE

Nopony in the lands of Equestria would tell you to tread lightly, or sped you a merry farewell, if you asked of the lands beyond that of the Macintosh Hills. To that southern country of salten-soil, where pale fields of Milkgrass, with stalks higher then the proudest of stallions, rustle gently in the breeze, and the whispering songs of Autumn are ever present in forest groves. Where great oblong monoliths and crumbling cities stand as headstones to many a bygone age. Yes, nopony would give you a merry departure if you asked them of the southern road.

For in the northern lands of Equus, where the three races of Pony reside, the vast, pale country beyond those southern slopes is a land of mystery and ever looming danger. As wild and untamed as the Everfree, the soils that Ponies call the ‘Badlands’ are a place that nopony in their right sensibilities would dare venture, let alone make their home. And yet, as fate would have it, even in the harshest and most alien of environments have a way of nurturing flourishing kingdoms; resilient and strong. And it is here where our story begins. Beneath those salten-soils, in the deep-veins of the earth, do we find the residence of one of the most renowned and near-mythical races of of the Equine Kingdoms: the Changelings...

The Palace was in an uproar! Emerald-lit torches flared murkily on revels and made the air cloudy with smoke throughout the ill-lighted Royal Household; as raucous oaths of joyous merriment and distress made the place a bedlam. From the open doors and lofty balconies, a warm breeze blew strongly, salt-scented from the buried sea that restlessly lapped at the harbors of the changeling capital, all a-tangle with the stale smell of wine, exotic spices and rank bodies.

All manner of denizens, young and feeble, noblemare and servant bustled about the place in a great ruckus. “The Queen is in labor!” They cried, heralding the arrival of the newest royal heir. “The Queen is in labor!”

Isomorph, the Dreaming City… capital of the Changeling Dominions and seat of power for countless generation, with its impregnable fortress of ivory and obsidian, where cries of agony intertwine with the harmonies of the purest songs. The residence of the most, cloistered, callous and decadent race in the history of the Equine Kingdoms. An uninterrupted reign of ten thousands years. Ten thousand years of magnificence, offerings and conquests—all for the glory of Queen and nation.

Reaching over 800 feet above the city proper, the purple towers of the Royal Palace were monuments in every sense of the word, proclaiming the grandiose and eternal aspect of Changeling power, equal if not rivaling that of the Equestrian capital itself. Like the rest of the city and its dreaming towers, some even crowned with great braziers of emerald-fire, the Palace was constructed of and ebony stone seems to drink in the surrounding light, dimming torches and hearth fires alike, making the city radiate with a dark and gloomy appearance.

Inside the Queen’s chamber, guttural cries and wet sobs permeated the air as an army of midwives shuffled and buzzed about the room.

“Hot water and towels! And where in Tartarus are those soothing herbs!” The primary doctor cried out as he tended to his burdened monarch. “Breath your majesty, breath. Long, deep breaths~”

Sprawled across the velvet silk of the bed, the dignified Changeling Queen laid there in a heated mess. Her cheeks and swollen eyes stained with tears of agony; smudged and puffy. Her long, turquoise hair cascaded over the lush pillows in a wild pandemonium as her body glistened with heated precipitation.

“I-I can’t~ I can’t do it!” Chrysalis voiced through ragged, strained breaths.

“Yes you can!” Replied the doctor as he draped a cold towel over Chrysalis’ brow. “Bring in the Vassals, she needs for energy!”

At the physician's command, the chamber doors where opened swiftly. Two stallions of the royal guard stepped in, followed shortly behind by thirteen Vassals; mare and stallion alike. The guards directed them towards the Queen’s bedside and they knelt before her. Taking deep, rasping breaths, Chrysalis reached out with her magic, snaking it between their lips and began to drink heavily of their reserves. Their eyes began to glow with the same emerald aura as her’s, as the felt their energy drained from them, causing their bodies to quiver.

When the Queen had finished drinking down the whole of their reserves, she broke the magical link between her and the Vassals, resulting in them to collapse on the floor in sheer exhaustion.

“Push your Majesty!” Urged the physician. “I need you to push now!”

The stillness of the city’s atmosphere was then shattered as the thrumming screams of her lady majesty echoed out from her lofty chambers. It was if the entire city collectively held its breath as the Queen’s screams slowly dissipated, leaving a still silence in its wake.

The silence was finally broken as a small whimper arose from the Queen’s chambers. Cradled in the doctor’s forehooves, the petite figure of the new royal heir.

“It is girl...” The doctor said as he stared down the newborn as she stretched out her limbs, having been released from the tight confines of her mother’s womb. However, the nymphs appearance is what caught his attention.

“My daughter… let me see my daughter.” Chrysalis said through uneasy breaths.

With a slight hesitance, the physician trotted over to the Queen’s side with her newborn now softly and tenderly wrapped in a warm cocoon. Reaching out with her hole-riddled forehooves, the changeling monarch took her daughter from the doctor and brought her to cradle in her forelegs, gently running her hoof over the nymph’s forehead.

Chrysalis looked her daughter over, drinking in her baby's appearance. What she saw somewhat surprised her. The most predominant feature was that instead of the ebony or obsidian coat characteristic of the changeling race, she possessed a coat the color of milk, with white ivory limbs and a mane of rosy-hue, and her eyes flashing like polished orbs of the richest ruby; an albino.

However, despite her daughter’s abnormality, Chrysalis felt only the welling surge of joy and the purest love fill her heart, a mother’s love, as she cradled her newborn infant, nuzzling her gently and peppering her with tender kisses. “My baby… my sweet baby girl.” She cooed as joyful, cleansing tears began to fill her eyes.

As the midwives filled out of the room, they were replaced by several members of the royal court. The most predominate of them was the Royal Adviser, and brother to Chrysalis, Lord Anther, joined by his yearling son, Penumbra. “Your majesty.” Said Anther as he joined his older sister at the bedside.

Chrysalis looked up from her now sleeping nymph and wearily smiled. “Anther… my dear brother…”

His Lordship knelt down and smiled warmly at his sister cradling his new niece. Turning his head he looked to his son who was standing a few steps behind him. “Come Penumbra.” He said beckoning his son with a hoof. “Come meet your cousin.”

Slowly, the young changeling joined his father at his Aunt and Queen’s bedside. Looking over the covers towards Chrysalis, the young colt looked his new cousin over with curious eyes.

“What is her name?” Anther asked softly.

Chrysalis looked at her sleeping daughter for a moment, contemplating her brother’s question. Finally, she spoke. “Her name… is Lacewing.” She said with a warm, weary smile before she felt sleep claim her.

Author's Note

What new adventure do we have in store for us this time?

I hope you guys like what I've got going, this has been a long time project for me trying to develop the story and characters.

Please leave your thoughts in the comment section bellow. I really love to hear what you guys think. I am open to constructive criticism.

Thank you.