Trials of a Changeling Queen

Chapters

Where We Began
Property Rights Trial
An Old Friend's Farewell
Canterlot in Crisis
A Season of Plenty
The Horror of Tirek
For the Greater Good
Prologue: The Framing Device
Epilogue

Where We Began

You don’t know who Queen Patch is? Well, long story short, she’s a Changeling/Pony hybrid who was kicked out of the Changeling Hive because then-Queen Chrysalis didn’t want to accept that she was going to be replaced. Cabbage Patch struggled to survive for several years, posing as a normal pony until she joined Trixie’s Traveling Thespians, where she lived happy and healthy for four good years. Destiny finally stepped in, though, and despite her own wishes, Cabbage Patch ended up taking over as Queen of the Changelings.

A dark-purple unicorn mare with a midnight-black mane and gibbous moon cutie mark opened the doors to the main stage of the Shifting Perspectives Playhouse, carrying a heavy cardboard box behind her in a bubble of magic, and stepped into a scene that would give faint-hearted ponies nightmares. A dozen Changelings stood on the stage around a pair of ponies – both of them pale blue unicorn mares with silvery-blue manes, but one had green eyes and the other had violet eyes – who were staring daggers at one another without apparent heed of their audience. The purple unicorn barely blinked at the sight, although she did frown as she started toward the stage and listened to the heated argument the matching ponies were having.

“We are not replacing the Ursa Minor with anything!” the purple-eyed unicorn snapped, putting her hoof down firmly. “Let alone windigoes!”

“Give me a good reason why not,” the green-eyed one shot back, her voice so close a match to the other’s that only an experienced ear could pick out the difference.

“Easy,” the first unicorn said, “our setting is Ponyville, modern day, not the Frozen North who-knows how many millennia ago.”

“Well,” the green-eyed unicorn said, “my Changelings can’t mimic a massive bear, but they can manage a passable windigo.”

“That’s where I come in, Chrysalis,” the first unicorn – Trixie Lulamoon – said, rolling her eyes. “the Ursa will be an illusion, just like it always has been in my original retellings. And they’re not your Changelings,” she added smugly.

The green-eyed doppelganger snorted, and a moment later her body was awash in green fire as she transformed from a pale blue unicorn to a slightly oversized Changeling with green eyes and a stubbly green Mohawk of a mane. “As the Casting Director of this… circus, I do have some authority over the… talent, Trixie. And speaking from that position, I’m having second thoughts about this self-aggrandizing play you’re foisting on us.”

“‘The Ursa of Ponyville’ is a proven crowd-pleaser,” Trixie said.

Chrysalis opened her mouth to retort, but found herself at a loss for words. As her eyes darted around seeking inspiration or help from the Changelings around her, she spotted the dark-purple unicorn reaching the foot of the stage. “Well, if it isn’t our biggest patron, ‘Stella Moon,’” Chrysalis said with mocking emphasis. “What brings you here?”

Stella Moon climbed up onto the stage and set the box down in front of her. “I have official business for your Queen,” she said, “but it appears I’m also just in time to offer an alternative to your problem with the headliner of the upcoming season.” Conjuring up a pair of scissors made of magic light, Stella cut the tape on the box and opened it. Trixie, Chrysalis, and the Changelings gathered around to look.

“Books?” one Changeling asked.

“Librettos,” Stella Moon said, levitating one copy out of the box, “containing the script and music for The Changeling of the Opera.”

Trixie’s eyes went wide. “The latest musical sensation from Bridleway?” she exclaimed. “How do you have these?”

“The show just closed on Bridleway,” Stella Moon said, “and I secured the first license to produce it outside of Manehatten.”

“Gee, I wonder how you managed that,” Chrysalis muttered. She pulled a libretto out of the box and started flipping through it. “Did you actually see this show, Princess?” she asked.

“Twice,” Stella answered. “Princess Luna received a ticket to opening night, as did Celestia, and then Stella Moon pulled strings to get into the final performance. It’s a bittersweet story, and the titular Changeling is not a harmful caricature of your species.”

Chrysalis gave Stella Moon a withering glance. “I’ll be the judge of that, thank you.” As she turned back to the first page and started reading, several looks were exchanged among the Changelings. At some silent signal passed through their mental web, the group rushed the box and started pulling librettos out. Trixie and Stella Moon were politely but firmly pushed out of the way, but Chrysalis was caught in the press and had to struggle to extract herself. The former Queen glared daggers at the Changelings, but the swarm ignored her as they continued the rapid but orderly distribution of scripts.

Stella turned to Trixie and asked, “Do you know where I can find Cabbage Patch right now?”

“She’s in her office, last I checked,” Trixie answered.

“Thank you.” Stella left the stage and entered the back offices area of the theater, still clutching a libretto in her magic. Once she was in the hallway, her form shimmered as the illusion of a tall but otherwise unremarkable unicorn mare gave way to the true shape of Princess Luna. While the persona of Stella Moon let Luna support the Shifting Perspectives Playhouse while still respecting Cabbage Patch’s wish to not openly rely on royal connections for its success, Luna’s current business with the young Changeling Queen was decidedly political in nature.

The approach and doorway to Cabbage’s office were both unadorned and not the least indicative that the room essentially doubled as Cabbage’s throne room, but it was perfectly fitting for the Queen’s extremely modest nature. The image of normalcy was somewhat broken when Luna approached, however, when the door opened and a Changeling scurried out with a chastised expression. The Changeling nearly ran into Luna, and when it recognized her it jumped to the other side of the hallway and scampered off, muttering apologies. Luna frowned at the sight, then peered through the open door and saw that her concerns were probably well founded.

Queen Cabbage Patch still wore the form of a sea-green, blue-maned earth pony even in private and tried to keep herself at a size just slightly larger than the average pony, but when she was under stress she tended to lose control of her height. To see Cabbage in her natural Changeling shape – half a head taller than Luna with a stringy blue mane, pony-like yellow eyes, and the incongruous image of a hole-studded black heart framed by green flames on her flank – as she was at this very moment, meant the Queen was truly out of sorts.

“Have I come at a bad time?” Luna asked, stepping into the office.

“Luna!” Cabbage exclaimed joyfully. She leaped over the desk and flew across the room to hug Luna. Luna returned the embrace with one of her wings, but after only a brief moment Cabbage pulled away with an embarrassed look. “Oh, sorry,” she said, “I almost forgot myself there. You’re full of affection for me, and I haven’t had anything but preserved love for almost a week and I… kinda started drawing it in faster than you your giving it out.”

“I didn’t even notice,” Luna assured the flustered Queen. “You’ve only had preserved love energy lately?” Luna asked with concern. “How is that?”

“We’re all too busy,” Cabbage sighed. “I’m pretty much in this office all day, every day, so I only see Trixie when there’s a problem with the theater that Turnip or Chrysalis hasn’t already told me about for some reason. Harlequin ad Barnacle have been on the road doing publicity work. I see Maggie the most, but she’s always so stressed with our finances she doesn’t have much positivity to spare.” She walked back to her desk, green flames licking across her chitin as she took on the appearance of her preferred pony form. “It doesn’t help matters that I keep getting complaints of Changelings aggressively feeding on ponies.”

Luna frowned. “I’ve heard no such complaints,” she said, “neither from the Guard reports nor in the Royal Courts.”

“Well, good,” Cabbage said, looking satisfied. “That means everypony’s taking that policy of mine seriously. I’ve put it out that since I’m in charge of rehabilitating the Changelings, it falls on my shoulders to handle any discipline problems a Changeling has. There’s not much point in punishing a ‘ling twice, you know?”

Luna raised an eyebrow imperiously. “I understand your position,” she said, “and while I do agree, you and your Changelings are legally subject to my pleasure and judgement. You should have told me you wanted to take full responsibility for Changeling… misbehavior before now.”

“I… assumed that was just part of the deal,” Cabbage said, blushing through her sea-green fur.

“Never mind,” Luna said, “I know now, at least. And I must admit I’m impressed; your efforts to lead the Changelings away from their old habits must be going well if ponies aren’t feeling the need to complain to Celestia and me.”

“I suppose,” Cabbage said with reluctance. “I feel like I’m giving two or three lectures a day just to the Changelings I trust to wander outside the Hive Mind’s range alone. The one that just left, Morph, just had his third incident in four days. He did report himself the last two times though. I guess that’s progress.”

“Equestria wasn’t built in a day, young Queen,” Luna said. “Here,” she set the libretto on Cabbage’s desk, “let’s talk about something more pleasant. I-”

“Oh!” Cabbage exclaimed, picking up the libretto. “So this is what all the buzz is about out on stage. The Changeling of the Opera. A bittersweet tale of love and the clash between nature and desires. The make-up for the title role was admirably realistic, aside from a noticeable lack of holes in the legs.”

Luna blinked. “You’ve seen it?” she asked.

Cabbage shook her head. “Nah, Lemon Zest did a few weeks ago. She hasn’t had any trouble adapting to the ‘passive feeding only’ rule, so she earned the privilege of getting to leave Canterlot for a few days and ‘test the water’ in other places, as she put it. She’s got a real clear memory too; images of Changeling of Opera are still echoing around the Hive Mind from her, and Turnip’s planning to groom Lemon as a new Lorekeeper.” Cabbage set the libretto down and sighed. “I wish I had more ‘lings like Turnip and Lemon, or just more like Morph for that matter. Then I’d have the whole swarm trained up proper by now and ready to pass back to Chrysalis so I can get my life back.”

“Cabbage,” Luna said, raising an eyebrow again.

“Ah ha,” Cabbage chuckled nervously. “Right, sorry, we’re not talking about my problems and doubts anymore.” She opened the libretto and scanned the dramtis hipponae page. “I’m going to need to recruit some more actors to fill some of these roles,” she said, “and probably hire some ponies to help with the stage work, get a mix of pony and Changeling in every aspect. Orchestra will have to be all ponies for now…”

“Queen Cabbage Patch,” Luna said sharply, and then sighed and softened her tone. “I’m sure you hear this often enough from your Lorekeeper and others, but you need to give up on the idea that Chrysalis will be able to take back the role of Changeling Queen. That role has passed to you, and as I understand it that means the Changelings won’t follow anypony else. Especially not a clearly inferior choice like Chrysalis.”

“I never asked to be Queen,” Cabbage grumbled.

“Celestia and I never asked to be Princesses,” Luna retorted. “But with our talents for controlling the cycle of day and night coupled with our incredible magic and longevity, it was clear that destiny meant for us to take the leadership of pony-kind. You are likewise a special kind of Changeling, too special to remain apart from them and still influence their collective fate.” She leaned her head closer to Cabbage to add weight to her words. “Destiny allows us a great deal of leeway in living up to the marks it has put on our flanks,” she said, “but if you try to subvert or escape from it, you’ll soon find yourself in the company of madness and sorrow. I know that from personal experience.”

Cabbage wilted slightly under Luna’s gaze, but then gathered her courage and said, “I’m not trying to do this hastily, Princess. I only have the Hive’s interests at heart.”

Luna’s eyebrow twitched with concealed incredulity. “Ah,” she said evenly, “that reminds me why I came here in the first place: the Sub-council on land rights and city development is meeting in five days to vote on your request to build a Changeling Hive in the abandoned mines below Canterlot, and I have doubts you’ll hear about it through other channels. I recommend you attend and argue your case, because there’s not much sympathy for Changelings among the nobility.”

“Five days?” Cabbage exclaimed. “I… No, yeah, I’ll be there. Thank you for letting me know, Princess Luna.”

“You’re welcome,” Luna said. “I’ll see myself out so you can sort out everything I’ve just dumped on your plate.” She cast her disguise spell, becoming Stella Moon again, and left the office.

Cabbage frowned down at the libretto on her desk, and then pushed it to the side and closed her eyes to focus on the buzzing cacophony of thoughts that was the Changeling Hive Mind. She listened and sorted through the chatter for a bit, smiling slightly at the general excitement over The Changeling of the Opera, and then cast her own mental voice in. Her announcement garnered instant, silent attention for the brief moment it took to reach its intended targets: Turnip, Chrysalis, I need to talk to you both when you have a moment.

Property Rights Trial

Changelings are apparently a cave-dwelling race, so when Queen Cabbage proposed building a new Hive inside Equestria’s borders, the old mines inside Canterlot Mountain were the obvious choice. After all, they were already well dug-out, ready to support Changeling structures, and nopony was using them. There couldn’t be any real objections to the Swarm moving there, right?

Well, some say practical logic has no place in politics.

Cabbage Patch, Trixie, Turnip, and Chrysalis stood before the public entrance to the Council Chambers in Canterlot Castle. The Changelings were all wearing pony disguises: Cabbage was her usual sea-green earth pony self, Turnip looked like a pale purple unicorn with a green mane, and Chrysalis had forgone being creative and simply copied the light-grey coat and darker grey mane of Maggie Pie, albeit with a different cutie mark at Cabbage’s insistence. A few other ponies were standing around in the waiting area as well, but Cabbage paid them no mind as she ran through the speech she’d prepared for the fourth or fifth time.

Don’t worry so much, my Queen, Turnip said through the Hive Mind along with a broadcasted sense of calm.

Cabbage grimaced. So much depends on what I say here, though, she thought. Who knows what a forgotten word or a slip of the tongue could cause!

Yes, Chrysalis thought with a sardonic edge, what a shame if we fail to get permission to move into a played-out mine that hasn’t been used for years and nopony seems to actually own anymore.

“There’s more to it than that,” Cabbage said aloud. “It’s a chance to build good will with the right ponies. If we just move into the caverns and start building a Hive there, most ponies will see it as… just us doing what we’ve always done: taking what we want without asking permission.”

“In other words,” Trixie cut in, having deduced the train of conversation, “we’re here to undo all your hard work, Chryssi.”

Chrysalis gave the azure unicorn a flat look. “Thank you for that oh-so-necessary clarification,” she drawled.

Any further discussion was cut short by the sound of the Council Chamber doors unlocking and being pushed open. A Royal Guard unicorn stood in the doorway and cleared his throat for attention. “The Urban Development Sub-council will convene in ten minutes,” he announced, “but before you take your seats, I need to go over the rules of the meeting for anypony unfamiliar with them. You are expected to respect the authority of the Council members in attendance. Do not speak above a whisper unless you have been invited to address the Sub-council. No photography or magical recording of the proceedings without prior approval. Lastly, a new rule has recently been added: spells have been placed over every entrance to the chamber to suppress and remove Changeling disguises, and any Changeling caught trying to enter in disguise will be barred from entry.”

WHAT?! Shock and anger echoed among the three Changelings in the hall at the announcement. After taking a moment to sort themselves out, Turnip stepped up to voice their collective reaction. “That’s discriminatory and I must protest,” he said. The small crowd paused their own approach to the door and gave Turnip a range of curious looks, and beneath some of the looks the Changelings picked up a faint suspicion. The Guard pony gave Turnip an impassive look marred only very slightly raised eyebrow and the strongest wave of suspicion out of anypony. “The Changeling Hive has been granted a conditional pardon and refugee status by the Princesses,” Turnip pressed on fearlessly, “and so we…” he hesitated for a second, and then decided to just own the slip-up and keep going, “Yes, we have the right to attend public Council meetings and even contribute to the discussions if we want.”

Several ponies gasped at Turnip’s confession of his nature and stepped away from him, but the unicorn Guard just nodded and held his ground. “You’re right,” he said, “but the rule stands: any disguised Changeling caught trying to sneak into the Council Chambers will be removed. If you want to come in, you just need to drop your act.”

No, Cabbage protested to Turnip, I’m going to have a hard enough time speaking to these ponies as it is. I can’t it if I’m wearing just my chitin!

I’d be willing to speak on your behalf, little Queen, Chrysalis said.

No chance, Chrysalis, Turnip cut in sharply. I’ll handle it. He turned his attention back to the guard and, keeping eye contact, discarded his pony form in a rush of green flames. Chrysalis followed suit half a second later, and the nervousness of the small crowd flared up into fear, for even in her reduced state the former Changeling Queen was still unmistakable.

“Oh, give it a rest, mewling grubs,” Chrysalis grumbled at the ponies, “I’m harmless.”

Turnip gave Chrysalis a sidelong glare and addressed the guard again. “The disgraced queen and I have no concerns with meeting your demands, but Queen Patch here,” he pointed to Cabbage with a hoof, “begs an exception. The earth pony form you see is all her own, and she gets terribly anxious without it.”

“No exceptions,” the guard said. Turnip started to protest again, but the guard cut him off with a curt shake of his head. “It’s a council rule established by a unanimous vote; even Princess Celestia can’t grant exceptions to it unilaterally. Your… queen gets rids of the disguise too, or she doesn’t go in.”

Cabbage Patch groaned and looked past the Guard into the council room. The old, familiar fears were starting to roil in her gut, compounded by the worries and suppressed fears of the ponies around her. It would be so easy to run, whether to Princess Luna for help or just back home to crawl into her rag nest and try to block out the rest of the day. But then, she knew, the Sub-council’s vote whether or not to allow the Changeling to build in the old crystal mines would go on with or without her, and if she weren’t there to argue her case…

Remind me to file a formal complaint about this later, she broadcast to the entire Hive Mind. Taking a deep breath to quell her anxiety, Cabbage tapped into her magic and cast away her sea-green pony form. As the green flames finished washing over her and she found herself towering over the Guard pony, she found enough will to hide her distress behind an imitation of Luna’s regal expression. The Guard met her gaze with professional blankness, and then turned to give Trixie a questioning look.

“Please,” Trixie said, rolling her eyes, “as if any Changeling would dare impersonate the Great and Powerful Trixie.” The guard didn’t look impressed, but he just stepped aside out of the group’s way, permitting them inside but keeping an eye on Trixie until she passed over the threshold unaffected.

The Council Chamber was a spacious, rectangular room, almost rivaling the Throne Room in size. Slanted galleries full of plush chairs took up three sides of the room and a long, curved desk on a raised dais occupied the last side. The center of the room was empty except for a small stand that faced the desk. Cabbage considered the image of having to look up from the stand to address ponies sitting at the raised desk, and despair welled up in her.

“You’ll be fine, My Queen,” Turnip said, guiding the group to a set of chairs a couple rows back from the front of the galleries and apart from the other ponies filing into the room. “Just think of it as another performance.”

“Turnip, I haven’t been on the stage in months,” Cabbage said. “And anyway, I do celebrity impressions, not… speechmaking.”

“That’s an easy one,” Trixie said. “Just channel your Princess Celestia routine without, you know, actually changing your voice.”

“We should have just brought more Changelings,” Chrysalis said. “You’re braver when there are lots of us around.”

“That’s true,” Cabbage admitted, but with hesitance as she felt the unpleasant glances of everypony filing into the room sweeping over her little group. “But the three of us are causing enough of a stir as it is.”

A door behind the long desk opened and five ponies in important-looking outfits entered and took seats at the desk. The pony who took the centermost, and apparently most important, seat was a grey unicorn stallion with blue eyes, a green shirt with a stiff collar, and a pair of tiny glasses balanced on his nose. He surveyed the audience with a bored expression until he laid eyes on the Changelings. His lip curled, his brow furrowed, and he glanced quickly away to hold a whispered conversation with the pony to his left.

“He wears his emotions on his sleeve,” Chrysalis noted with amusement. “How refreshing to see that in a politician pony.”

“He seems familiar,” Cabbage said.

“Jet Set,” Trixie responded. “He considered the troupe as entertainment for a garden party a few years ago, but decided Barnacle’s tales weren’t quite ‘vogue’ enough for him.”

“Oh. Great,” Cabbage grumbled.

“I highly doubt he’ll connect you to that,” Trixie said, giving Cabbage a sideways look.

“I know,” Cabbage snapped. “I’m a bit more worried about the utter contempt he’s radiating our way right now.”

Trixie slumped in her seat a little. “Ah.”

Jet Set finished his conversation, produced a gavel from behind the desk, and tapped it on the desk a couple of times, silencing the murmuring from the gallery. “This meeting will come to order,” he announced. “Now,” he continued, setting the gavel down and giving the Changelings a flat look, “given the presence of certain… individuals in the audience, the Council has decided on a last-second change to the schedule, to avoid ignoring the elephant in the room.”

He just wants us to leave as quickly as possible, Chrysalis thought at Cabbage.

Fine by me, Cabbage replied.

Jet Set picked up a sheet of paper and consulted it. “We will now consider a petition by the Changeling Hive permission to occupy the old crystal mines below the city and… develop them into a residential area.” He looked from the paper to Cabbage. “Will a representative of the petitioners be taking part in the discussion?” he asked.

Cabbage started to stand, only to find her front legs quivering with stage fright. She sat down, took a few deep breaths, and tried again, only for her rear legs to lock up. I don’t know if I can get this under control, she thought at Turnip.

Turnip nodded with sympathy and stood up. Chrysalis also came to her feet, practically at the same time, and both Changelings said, in sync, “I’ll speak for us.” They leveled icy glares at each other over Cabbage’s drooping head, and the Hive Mind fell momentarily silent as their wills pressed hard against each other.

“Is there a problem?” Jet Set asked, barely concealing a smug smile. Turnip and Chrysalis ignored him as they continued glaring at each other, lips starting to curl up to expose more of their fangs.

Enough, you two! Cabbage shouted into the Hive Mind, expanding her will to overshadow Turnip and Chrysalis’s and make them stop their power struggle. As the Changeling Queen, Cabbage had the power and the right to bend other Changelings to her will, to direct the Hive as a whole and maintain order, but she could rarely bring herself to do so. Shame on you both, she snapped at Turnip and Chrysalis. This is not the time to fight. We need to show a united front. Turnip, speak for us, please. Chrysalis, sit down and just let Turnip know if you have something you want to add. She released the pair and glared at Chrysalis out of the corner of her eye until the former Queen sat back down.

Turnip spread his wings and flew the short distance from his seat to the stand in the middle of the chamber. Once he was settled, he looked up at Jet Set and said, “I am Turnip, Lorekeeper of the Changeling Hive. I speak on behalf of our Queen and the Hive.”

“I see,” Jet Set said, slowly. “Well, you can start by telling us why you want those old caverns. As I understand, the Changelings already have a perfectly serviceable… hive out in the Badlands. Given recent events, I hardly think you’re starved for space.”

Turnip’s temper flared slightly across the Hive Mind, but he kept his face from showing it. “Those events are what prompted this move, sir,” he said, evenly. “Practically speaking, there aren’t enough Changelings left for the long journey between the old Hive and Equestria to be feasible; we’d all be flying back and forth all the time and have nopony left for… housekeeping, as it were. Queen Patch also wants us to live within Equestria’s borders as part of her policy of open and transparent love harves- er, relationships with ponies.”

Nice slip of the tongue there, Turnip, Chrysalis broadcast with sardonic glee. Cabbage face-hoofed.

The ponies of the Council were exchanging concerned looks and feelings of confirmation, and when Jet Set spoke again, his voice was full of disdain. “So,” he said, “you think to move in right under the hooves of our Princesses, deep in caves most ponies weren’t even aware of until a few years ago? How is that being ‘transparent’?”

“Well…” Turnip answered, casting out for help.

An idea came to Cabbage’s mind. She worked it over quickly and, finding it satisfactory, broadcast it to Turnip. Use that, she instructed.

Turnip nodded slightly. “First of all,” he said, “so far as we can tell, nopony has an actual claim to the old mines and they’re certainly not being used, so we could have just moved in without saying a word. However, here I am, making a public request for permission to proceed. The Changelings’ use of the caves will be a matter of public record. Second, our plans are to start building near the entrance to the mines and eventually spread deeper from there, so we wouldn’t be hard to find.”

Surprise rippled through the chamber from both the Council and the audience. Jet Set seemed to be at a loss for words, but one of the other council-ponies spoke up. “He makes a good point; if we allow this, everypony will know where the Changelings can be found.” Two other council-ponies nodded.

Jet Set frowned as he looked at his fellows at the desk. “I see,” he sighed. “It seems the sub-council is ready to vote?” Nods and noises of assent came from the others. “Those in favor-”

“Just one moment!” A white unicorn stallion with a short, styled yellow mane and wearing a foppish cravat stood up from his seat on the opposite side of the chamber from Cabbage.

Cabbage felt a sense of relief creep into Jet Set’s emotions as he turned to address the interruption. “Did you have something to add, Prince Blueblood?” he asked.

“I most certainly do,” Blueblood declared, stepping out onto the floor. “I must protest: this bug’s claim that the crystal mines are unowned is patently false! They are part of the traditional holdings of Equestria’s leading founder, Princess Platinum.”

“So, what?” Chrysalis asked loudly from her seat.

Blueblood turned to give the disgraced Queen a sneer. “My family is the current head of Platinum’s line,” he said, “which means those mines are… mine.” His lip curled slightly in distaste at his unintentional wordplay.

Chrysalis surged to her hooves, her patchy mane bristling. “You’re making that up!” she exclaimed.

“That’s enough, Chrysalis!” Cabbage snapped, physically pushing Chrysalis’ rump back into her chair. A murmur swept through the ponies in the chamber.

“Ahem,” Jet Set said, pounding his gavel a couple times. The room calmed, outwardly at least. “Setting aside her lack of decorum, the… other companion of the Changeling Queen does raise a valid point. Do you, Prince Blueblood, have proof of ownership for the old crystal mines?”

Blueblood huffed. “Well, not on my person at this precise moment, but…”

Jet Set sighed. “I had hoped to make a decision on this today,” he said, “but clearly we’ll need to table this issue for now. I’d advise the Changeling Hive to consult with Prince Blueblood so that we can have all the facts by next week’s meeting. Next item of business?”

“Well that was an utter waste of time,” Trixie declared as she, Chrysalis, Turnip, and Cabbage exited the Council Chamber.

“Hardly,” Turnip argued. “I’m fairly certain if we hadn’t been there, that Blueblood fop would have just leaned on the Council to deny our request outright.”

“It was a near thing anyway,” Cabbage said. “I’m sorry I was so rough with you, Chrysalis. Your outbursts bought us time.”

Chrysalis lifted her head and shot Turnip a smug look. “Why, thank you, Cabbage!” she said.

“Don’t let it go to your head now,” Turnip grumbled. Chrysalis narrowed her eyes and bared her fangs at him.

“Cut it out, both of you,” Cabbage said. “Let’s just get back to the theater and start focusing on Changeling of the Opera.” After a second, she added, “and we should at least try to convince Blueblood to talk to us, I guess.”

An Old Friend's Farewell

That play we planned to open our first season with, Changeling of the Opera, was not a small production. Our detractors said it was too much of a challenge for a new, untested company like The Shifting Perspectives Theater. In a way, they were right; it was obvious from the start that two-dozen Changelings was barely enough for the cast and company and there was no choice but to try and contract with an established orchestra and attract ponies to work on the stage and house crews. Cabbage wasn’t worried, though. She was certain that there were plenty more like me, Harlequin, Maggie, and Barnacle Salt out there – ponies willing to put aside fear and commit to redeeming the Hive.

Ponies she was certain would never abandon her.

A mustard-yellow earth pony with a red, green, and blue-striped mane stepped off the train at the Canterlot station and breathed in deeply with a smile on his face. “Ah, Canterlot air,” he said, glancing back at his companion, “nothing quite like it, eh, Salt?”

Barnacle Salt, a grizzled, caramel-cream pegasus with a seaweed-green mane and wearing an old sailor’s jacket, simply grunted as he stepped off the train.

“Hey, come on,” the earth pony, Harlequin, said, “you don’t want your little bug seeing you so down, do you?”

Barnacle grunted again and tried to smile. “Yer right, Quin,” he said, “but… I’m worried she won’t take the news well.”

Harlequin gave Barnacle a sideways look. “If you’re having second thoughts, then maybe…” he said, trailing off expectantly.

The grizzled Pegasus shook his head and started walking with purpose. “No,” he said, “when there’s a storm arising, standing around worrying is worse than pointless. I have to tell her myself.”

“That’s what I thought,” Harlequin said, following after Barnacle.

The two stallions arrived at the Shifting Perspectives Theater and walked in to witness a fervent discussion between Trixie, Maggie Pie, Chrysalis, and Turnip on the stage, while around a dozen Changelings watched from the third row of seats. Trixie glanced over, spotted Harlequin and Barnacle approaching, and said, “Well, look what the manticore dragged in. Any chance either of you fine stallions knows how to teach a ‘ling to dance?”

“No,” Harlequin said slowly. “Why?”

“Because,” Trixie said, aiming a pointed gaze at Chrysalis and Turnip, “It seems that’s a skill none of our cast members possess.”

“There used to be Changelings who had to learn to dance,” Turnip said, “but, sadly,” he glared at Chrysalis, “they are no longer among the living.”

Chrysalis weathered the glare without batting an eye. “I still stand by suggestion that we simply cut the musical numbers,” she said.

“What, no music in a play titled ‘Changeling of the Opera’?!” Maggie exclaimed. “Have you even read the script? The songs provide over half the central plot.”

“Ahem,” Barnacle Salt cut in. “Anypony know where I can find Cabbage?”

“In her office,” Turnip said immediately, “eager for a distraction from this, quote ‘endless circle of debate.’”

Barnacle nodded his thanks and headed to the backstage area, while Harlequin decided to add his two bits to the discussion. As he walked down the hall to Cabbage’s office, Barnacle felt his feet start to drag a little. “Ah, c’mon ye old sea legs,” he chided his heavy hooves, “there ain’t anything to be ashamed of.” Taking a deliberately higher-stepping gait than normal, he covered the remaining distance and knocked on the door to Cabbage’s office. The door flew open seemingly under its own power, and Barnacle found himself pushed back a few steps from the force of Cabbage Patch hitting him with a flying hug.

“You’re back!” the young Queen, in her typical earth pony guise, exclaimed happily. “I missed you so much, Captain.”

“I can tell,” Barnacle said with a chuckle, returning the hug. “Nothing like a bit of fresh oats after weeks of hardtack and preserves, right?”

Cabbage pulled away slightly and gave Barnacle a sour look. “You’re more than just-” she started to protest, until she noticed the amusement behind Barnacle’s smile. “Did you just tease me?” she asked.

“Aye,” Barnacle answered. Cabbage returned his smile, released him from the hug, and led him into the office.

“I have to admit, though,” Cabbage said, “you’re not wrong. Preserved love does lack a certain something compared to… fresh.” She walked around her desk to her chair and took a seat, motioning Barnacle to do likewise. “Anyway, how was the trip?” she asked. “I imagine it must have been a little tricky to drum up interest without a solid show schedule, but…”

Barnacle’s wings fidgeted a bit. “It wasn’t so bad,” he said. “I mean, I won’t claim we had much success, but there are ponies here and there that recognized Harlequin and me from the old travelin’ show and fondly recalled Turnip an’ Quin’s act. We went to Hoofington, and it seems like most of the town wanted to turn out just to support Trixie. We made it all the way to Clydesport too.” Barnacle’s voice trailed off then, his gaze dropped, and Cabbage felt a confusing mix of emotions rise up in him.

“What happened, Barnacle?” Cabbage asked, worried.

“I…” Barnacle coughed lightly. “I met up with Rosie,” he said.

Cabbage’s heart fluttered a little at the sound of the name, one she hadn’t heard in several years. Rosie ran a beachside restaurant in the little town of Clydesport, the place where Cabbage and Barnacle had first met. The former sailor had stumbled upon the starving, frightened little orphan, and his first thought had been to take her to Rosie’s place and get Cabbage some food. Barnacle had tried to leave Cabbage in Rosie’s care, figuring a kindly and financially stable mare would be a better home for a foundling than with an old, washed-up stallion like himself. Cabbage Patch, however, had formed an immediate preference for Barnacle’s charitable concern for her wellbeing and stuck by him. Still, up until the Trixie came to Clydesport and recruited Barnacle and Cabbage into her troupe, Rosie had been a good friend and crucial factor in helping Cabbage start healing from her emotional wounds.

And now Barnacle Salt sat before Cabbage, speaking Rosie’s name with an emotional subtext the Changeling couldn’t quite unravel. “Is… Is she ok?” Cabbage asked.

“She’s perfectly fine,” Barnacle hastened to reassure Cabbage. “The restaurant’s still doing good business. When Quin and I met up with her, I wasn’t sure how to tell her that little filly I found in the garbage grew up to be a Changeling Queen, but it turns out she already knew. Been followin’ our story as best she could since we left Clydesport, and your… ascension is still making newspapers across the nation. Anyway, I started fillin’ her in on the little adventures she hadn’t heard about, an’ the details the papers left out, and then I started noticing how pretty her eyes were…”

Barnacle kept talking, but a mental giggle in the Hive Mind distracted Cabbage from what he was saying. Who was that? Cabbage asked, I know that was meant for me to pick up.

Sorry, my Queen, came the mental reply. This is Lemon Zest. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I’m right outside your office right now and it’s hard not to pick up what you and the old pony are feeling.

I see, Cabbage said. But what’s so funny?

Oh, Lemon replied, I was just finding it funny that Barnacle there’s supposed to be a great storyteller, but right now he’s babbling like a twitter-pated colt in a cheesy romance book.

Twitter-pated? Cabbage thought. She tuned back into what Barnacle was saying. He was apparently still on the subject of Rosie’s pretty eyes and the probability of getting lost in them, and suddenly the pieces fell into place and Cabbage realized exactly what the pegasus was feeling. Oh, my goodness.

“Barnacle,” Cabbage said aloud, cutting into Barnacle’s ramblings, “I’m getting the distinct feeling you fell in love with Rosie.” Barnacle stammered, and Cabbage felt guilt building up in him. “No need to feel bad about it,” Cabbage said. “I think it’s great, and I know it’s possible for a pony to feel love for more than one pony - or Changeling - at a time.”

Barnacle smiled briefly at Cabbage, but she could still sense feelings of guilt inside him. “That’s true, lass,” he said, frowning “but… well, it weren’t a one-sided revelation. Rosie admitted she’s been attracted to me fer years, and we got to talkin’ about the future.”

“What, like, marriage future?” Cabbage asked, wide-eyed.

“No,” Barnacle said, averting his gaze. “Nothin’ set in stone, anyway. But… We did some serious talkin’ about me place in the world, and in your life, lass. To be frank, I can’t see myself being of much use to this new theater you’re building. I spin yarns well enough, but I’m no character actor and even if my old ship-captaining skills weren’t rusted from misuse I don’t think they’d fit well to runnin’ a play. And you,” he looked Cabbage in the eye, smiling sadly, “yer grown up, standin’ strong on yer own, and have plenty of folks that can support you if ye stumble.”

He's… leaving me! Cabbage realized with a shock that caused the entire Hive Mind to grow momentarily still and direct its attention to the office. Changelings in the theater and throughout Canterlot sent queries about the Queen’s outburst and distress. Lemon Zest, evidently still eavesdropping, obligingly replayed the last bit of conversation for everyling, and the Hive nearly erupted in response. With the Hive being as small as it was, each Changeling’s voice carried a weight most were still growing used to as they strove to make their opinions known.

Leaving? Didn’t he just get back?

Barnacle’s a great source of sustenance. We can’t lose him!

Yeah, he just got back, and I hardly noticed any difference in the weeks he was gone.

Well, a Collector like you probably wouldn’t notice, Morph. Your lot gets Love at its peak.

Chrysalis, well-practiced in making herself heard over the babble, managed to wrangle and focus the Hive Mind with a single statement: We cannot allow such a reliable food source to escape our clutches, Cabbage Patch. After a short moment, other mental voices started to speak in assent.

Cabbage Patch shook her head. No, she thought in firm command.

But, Chrysalis protested.

Chrysalis. Shut. Up. Cabbage mentally shouted. Barnacle is not a prisoner; not our slave. He’s a friend. If he wants to… to leave… She began to cry, and suddenly found herself wrapped up in Barnacle’s wings and front legs. “Are you… going to leave me?” she choked out.

“Shh,” Barnacle said. “Not forever, lass. I’m retirin’, not dying. Look,” he let Cabbage go so he could look her in the eye, “I’m goin’ back to Clydesport in the next couple days, help Rosie find somepony to run her place fer a bit, and we’ll both come see the opening of this theater. After that, we’ll see how things work out. Ok?”

Cabbage’s eyes were still pouring tears, but she smiled and nodded. “Of course,” she said. “Your happiness has always been the most important thing to me. After all, I needed you happy so I wouldn’t starve. That was then, though; I think I can learn to get by with you being happy even if we’re not together.” She and Barnacle embraced again, and Cabbage said, “Hurry back though; I want to repay Rosie for her kindness all those years ago.”

The old sailor and the Changeling queen maintained their embrace for a while longer, until the love coming from Barnacle seemed to fill every corner of Cabbage’s being. The beginnings of a dark grumbling came into the Hive Mind, but was quickly covered and silenced by the majority, giving the queen as much privacy as possible.

Some time later, Turnip walked into Cabbage’s office to find the queen sitting at her desk, yellow eyes staring deep into a double-hoof-sized glob of preserved love. “What’s that?” Turnip asked, though he already suspected the answer.

Cabbage glanced up at Turnip briefly before returning her gaze to the green gel. “Some of the love Barnacle let me have before he left,” she said. “Probably the last I’m going to get from him for a long time, aside from incidental scraps in passing. I know it’s silly, but… I’m wishing I could make it last longer. Forever, to be honest.”

Turnip shut the office door gently and walked up to the desk. “I thought you might be feeling that way,” he said, “and I might be able to do something about that.”

“Hm?” Cabbage looked at him curiously.

“Thanks to Chrysalis’ Folly,” Turnip explained, “I was the only full Lorekeeper left to maintain our collective memories, and I thought most of our lore lost forever because of it. However, since I’ve started training Lemon Zest as a Lorekeeper, I’ve started recalling bits of lost stories and old practices. I guess there are things buried deep in the Hive Mind that will take multiple Lorekeepers working together to uncover. I don’t know if we can ever recover everything, but Lemon and I did dredge up a memory of something interesting. Epochs ago, when the Queen’s policy was to spread far and wide in search of love to… harvest, Changelings had a way of preserving love even longer than the normal gels last. If you’ll permit, I can try the process on this,” he pointed to the preserved love on the desk.

Intrigued, Cabbage nodded. Turnip picked the preserved love up in his magic and narrowed his eyes in concentration. The gelantized love jiggled and deformed as Turnip put pressure on it, trying to press in equally on all sides at once. Deep creases appeared on the love’s surface, and for a tense moment Cabbage was afraid it was going to split or explode, but then suddenly the large glob shrank down to a fraction of its original size, turning into a green bead shaped like an irregular starburst that fell out of Turnip’s magic field and landed with a click on the desk.

“Well,” Turnip said, a little out of breath, “it actually worked. Here,” he levitated the bead and held it close to Cabbage for her inspection. “Compressed to this degree, the love should last near to forever. Changelings used to make these as emergency rations because they not only last so long, but they can be disguised as part of a bracelet or necklace – notice there’s a little hole for a string to pass through – and only the Changeling that made them can break them, releasing the love for consumption. Since I made this one, you can keep it without worrying about accidently breaking it.”

Cabbage took the bead in her own magic, studied it, and then slowly smiled. “Thank you, Turnip,” she said. “It’s perfect.”

Turnip smiled as well and bowed. “It’s my pleasure to serve, Queen Cabbage Patch.”

Canterlot in Crisis

Barnacle Salt’s retirement was a solemn occasion, but it didn’t bring Cabbage’s world to a stop. With the premiere date of the theater looming ever closer, work on Changeling of the Opera went into full swing, interrupted only by efforts to end Prince Blueblood’s stalling on proving his claim to the crystal mines. Two weeks had gone by of him dodging both the Council and the Hive’s efforts to make him produce the alleged deed, and everypony was getting weary of it.

Cabbage finally decided to force the issue, but on the morning she intended to put her plan into action…

Cabbage Patch woke up to the sounds of panicking ponies in the streets and echoes of the same panic in the Changeling Hive Mind. What’s happening? she asked in a general sending.

Just look outside, My Queen, came the reply from Morph.

Cabbage extracted herself from the hodgepodge of cloth that comprised her bedclothes – a holdover from the days when her bed was a nest of cast-off rags in a corner of Trixie’s show wagon – and threw open the shutters of the window of her bedroom on second floor of the Shifting Perspective Theater’s residential annex. The source of the panic was immediately obvious: the sky appeared to be split in half between dusk in the west and high noon in the east, and both the sun and moon hung in the sky near the demarcation. Is someone near the castle right now? Cabbage asked.

I’m at the gates, Morph replied. The Guard’s not answering my questions, even when I told them I’m your official representative to the Princesses –

To be fair, you aren’t, Morph, Turnip cut in, disapproving.

He is now, Cabbage said, at least until we get the information we need. Morph, tell the Guard that- The street below Cabbage’s window suddenly broke apart as three black, thorny vines erupted and started flailing about. One of the vines swung at the window and caught the sill, then lunged for Cabbage. Screaming, Cabbage leaped back from the window and onto her bed. Another of the vines grabbed the windowsill and started trying to tear the window out as the first vine slithered across the floor toward the bed. “Get back!” Cabbage yelled, throwing her pillow at the vine, to no avail.

The bedroom door burst open and Turnip and two other Changeling ran in, firing sickly green fire at the vines. The vine pulling at the window withdrew quickly, but the one going for Cabbage continued to stretch toward her until the three Changelings focused their magic at a single point and cut it in half. While the other two Changelings chased the living half of the vine out the window, Turnip turned to Cabbage and asked, “Are you ok?”

“Scared out of my wits,” Cabbage said, putting a hoof to her heart, “but I’m not hurt.”

“Good,” Turnip said, and then frowned down at the severed black vine. “What is this thing?”

“If you don’t know,” Cabbage said, “then no ‘ling in the Hive will.”

“I know one thing,” one of the other Changelings said as he and his partner backed away from the window, “there are more growing out of the street already!” Sure enough, three more vines forced their way through the window.

“Move!” Cabbage shouted, running for the door. Turnip on the other were hot on her heels. Are these vines showing up anywhere else, Cabbage asked the Hive, or is it just-

I see some at Restaurant Row! one Changeling reported.

Whole bunch at the airship docks. I think they’re climbing the mountain!

Heading for the train station, but it doesn’t look good.

You tryin’ to run away or something, Kumquat?

No! I have friends working there, Imago you dolt!

Enough, Cabbage said. She ran down the stairs as she gave orders. Everyling in the theater and dorms, gather to me. Everyling else, get somewhere safe. That means you too, Morph. If those Guardponies don’t want to share what they know, we’ll just survive this on our own. Mental voices of assent flowed through Cabbage’s head, accompanied by opening doors and hole-studded hooves on thin carpet as the Changelings emerged and fell into step behind their Queen. Chrysalis was among the first to join the entourage, although she remained unusually reserved and quiet through the whole walk. Soon, the group reached the doors to the street, and Turnip cautiously opened them with telekinesis and sent two Changelings ahead to check for trouble before letting Cabbage and the rest outside.

The panic Cabbage had picked up on from the abnormal state of the sky paled in comparison to the pandemonium caused by the strange black vines. Ponies were running about every which way trying to avoid the clingy vines or rescue friends and loved ones who had been wrapped up or entangled. Above the skyline, strange dark clouds that looked to be full of spikes were gathering and seemingly hunting any Pegasus pony that flew too high. A trio of Wonderbolts attacked one such cloud, only to end up stuck inside the thing.

“This is getting worse by the minute,” Chrysalis said, speaking up for the first time. “What shall we do, oh Queen?”

Cabbage bit her lip, looking around in indecision. “I think…” she started to say, and then stopped when she noticed a unicorn try to blast a vine with magic, succeeding only in catching the plant’s attention and being grabbed by it. “I think our combat magic might work better than unicorn magic on these things,” Cabbage said, growing determined, “so, we fight.” She turned to face her subjects and, broadcasting across the Hive Mind as she spoke, commanded, “Everyling, pair up, spread out, and help the ponies fight these vines off. I want at least two pairs in the sky to help coordinate our movements and see if we can do something about those clouds.”

Chrysalis scoffed. “Do you expect the ponies of this city to see a bunch of Changelings flying around during a disaster as good thing?”

Cabbage gave Chrysalis a flat look. “Maybe not at first,” Cabbage admitted, “but when they see we’re attacking the weird moving plants and not them, I doubt they’ll complain much. Do well enough, and we should get enough gratitude to at least break even against the energy we’ll have to expend.”

My Queen, Morph’s mental voice rang out suddenly, I just had an… encounter with Princess Twilight Sparkle, and she gave me a message to pass on.

Go ahead, Cabbage said.

She says Princesses Celestia and Luna have both gone missing, and she’s told the Royal Guard to let us help them search for the Princesses, if we can spare anyling. Oh, and Princess Sparkle has to go handle another crisis in Ponyville.

Cabbage groaned and rubbed her head. Counting herself, there were only twenty-six Changelings to go around, but with Luna and Celestia missing… All right, she said, slight change of plans. Turnip, Chrysalis, Morph, I want you three helping search for the Princesses. The rest of us are on weed-whacking duty. Any objections?

Turnip and Chrysalis exchanged a distrustful glare, but neither they nor anyling else spoke up.

“Ok then,” Cabbage said. “Go!” The Changelings took to the air and scattered, the Hive Mind thick with rapid discussion over partnerships. Cabbage watched until they had all disappeared over the buildings, and then looked down at herself. “This is no job for an earth pony,” she grumbled, and with a sigh cast off her sea-green form in exchange for the black chitin, wings, and horn of her natural, queenly shape. She spread her wings, preparing to take to the sky herself and get the lay of the land, when she heard the rapid rhythm of hoofbeats coming down the street toward her. She turned her head and saw Trixie, Maggie, and Harlequin galloping toward her, pursued by some vines creeping rapidly along the buildings on either side of the street. A cracking sound from the annex building warned Cabbage that the vines that had come after her had caught up, and she galloped to meet up with her friends.

“Morning, Cabbage,” Harlequin said with affected calm, “lovely day for a major catastrophe, isn’t it?”

“What are we going to do?” Maggie asked as the vines started to surround the group.

Cabbage sent out a mental distress call and then started channeling her magic before answering, “The Changelings are spreading out to give help wherever they can, but I think the best we can do is try to survive until somepony finds the root of the problem.” She unleashed a blast of fire at the vines growing through the annex, halting their advance for a moment. “No pun intended.”

Trixie grunted and cast a spell at a vine that was aiming for her, and managed to get it tangled around a streetlamp. “That ‘somepony’ will be Twilight Sparkle, like as not,” Trixie said. “This definitely looks like something on her level.” She raised a shield around herself and the two earth ponies just in time to keep some vines from getting a grip on them. “What I’d give for power like hers right now…”

Cabbage burned the vines back and threw up a shield of her own to complement Trixie’s. “You’re doing better than other unicorns I’ve seen today,” Cabbage said. Trixie’s aura flared with gratitude, and Cabbage skimmed some off to top up her magic before the emotion faded. I still need back-up here, she told the Hive Mind.

“We’re here!” Lemon Zest shouted as she and another Changeling landed next to the group, casting green fire over the vines as they came. Lemon glanced at Trixie, Harlequin, and Maggie, and asked Cabbage, “We’re getting them someplace safe, right, My Queen?”

“The Great and Powerful Trixie objects to that,” Trixie said. “Get me someplace I can fight without being surrounded.”

“I don’t think anywhere’s ‘safe’ right now,” Harlequin said, “but here, I’d rather not be.”

Trixie and Cabbage lowered their shields, each of the Changelings grabbed a pony, and they took flight, leaving the vines to flail harmlessly in their wake. Taking guidance from a mental map of vine hotspots that the rest of the Hive was compiling, Cabbage led the group to a rooftop in an area of the city’s upper quarter that hadn’t been attacked yet.

“Can you work from this spot, Trixie?” Cabbage asked.

The azure unicorn looked around over the parts of Canterlot visible from the roof. “It’ll do, I suppose,” she said. With a flash of her horn, she summoned her signature hat and cape, and then with a grand, sweeping gesture conjured a long bank of fireworks along the edge of the roof. “Let’s see how these evil plants like my Great and Powerful pyrotechnics.”

Cabbage nodded in satisfaction and turned to Lemon Zest and her partner. “You two stay here and watch over my friends. I’ve got a rescue effort to coordinate.”

“Yes, My Queen,” the two Changelings said in unison as Cabbage took flight and began directing Changelings toward various parts of the city.

Turnip, Chrysalis, and Morph alighted at the entrance to the old crystal mines beneath Canterlot. Together, they peered into the depths, able to see down to a surprising depth thanks to the cave pointing more on the “noon” side of the sky than the “evening” side, and the crystalline structures in the walls catching and scattering the daylight farther into the caverns than it could normally reach. “Remind me again why we’re going in here,” Chrysalis said.

“It was your idea, in a way,” Morph replied. “You got into a hissing contest with that one Guard Unicorn over joining the search for the big Princesses, and we got onto the subject of where you’d hide a couple of alicorns if you’d been behind this, and you mentioned how you put Princess Mi Amore Cadenza down here when you replaced her at her wedding, so the Guard told us since we came up with the lead we should be the ones to follow it.” He gave Chrysalis a cheeky, sideways look. “That was only a few minutes ago, you know.”

“Yes,” Chrysalis growled, “I know.” She spread her wings and flew into the cave, forcing Turnip and Morph to hurry after her. When Chrysalis reached the edge of the sunlit area, she alighted on a ledge and waited for the others to catch up. “This should be far enough away,” she said, “and with Cabbage’s attention focused on the rest of the Hive…” She turned to Morph and asked, “What do you really think of our young Queen and her… passive methods?”

Morph squinted one eye at Chrysalis. “Our Lorekeeper’s right here,” he said, pointing at Turnip, “and you think any conversation we have here won’t make it back to Queen Patch?”

Chrysalis shrugged. “We could kill him to keep him quiet.”

Morph backed away from Chrysalis, wings buzzing with tension. “You are sick in the head,” he declared. “How can you even suggest killing a fellow Changeling, let alone the only full Lorekeeper we still have? That’s… so wrong I shouldn’t have to say it.”

Chrysalis pouted. “You’re only parroting the morals Cabbage set in place,” she said.

“No,” Turnip said, shaking his head. “Cabbage may have expanded the rules to prohibit willfully harming ponies and other races, but killing another Changeling has never been condoned.”

Chrysalis gave Turnip a wicked grin. “Ah, but weren’t you the one pressuring Cabbage to kill me after she took the Hive from me?”

Turnip was speechless for a few seconds. “That’s… different,” he said at last. “Two Queens can’t coexist peacefully. It’s conventional wisdom. And your behavior hasn’t given me any cause to reconsider that fact,” he added when Chrysalis opened her mouth to retort. Turnip snorted. “You’re taking advantage of Cabbage’s merciful nature, but I doubt you had any second thoughts yourself about killing the Queen before you.”

“True,” Chrysalis said, “but given the circumstances…”

“What circumstances?” Turnip asked.

Chrysalis and Morph both looked at Turnip in confusion. “What?” Chrysalis asked, “our great Lorekeeper doesn’t know the lore of how the great Queen Chrysalis rose to power?”

Turnip shuffled his feet in embarrassment. “That must’ve been lost with the rest of the Lorekeepers at-”

“Turnip,” Morph said flatly, pointing a hoof at Chrysalis. “You can’t have lost that. Not while she’s still alive.”

Chrysalis sniffed and gave Turnip a condescending look. “Honestly, Lorekeeper,” she said, “letting your disdain for me prevent you from doing your duty. A Changeling Queen’s memories are rather central to the Hive’s lore, if I recall my lessons correctly. Granted it has been a few centuries…” Turnip grumbled and avoided the gaze of the other two Changelings. “And you still haven’t answered my question, Morph,” Chrysalis said. “I’m sincerely curious. As a Collector, you’re on the front lines of Cabbage’s little experiment. Is it working?”

“It’s hard,” Morph said. “Hard finding ponies willing to put up with me backsliding into aggressive feeding. But, it’s still easier and more fulfilling than the old catch-and-replace. Less time between first contact and first, uh, harvest, if you will.” He glanced at Turnip with an apologetic shrug for his choice of words. “Besides,” Morph said, giving Chrysalis a flat look, “Cabbage is our Queen now, not you, and I follow the Queen’s instructions. And, if you’ll recall, our instructions right now are to try and find the big pony Princesses.” He spread his wings, called green light to his horn, and plunged deeper into the mines.

Cabbage Patch hovered high over the city of Canterlot, eyes half-closed as she tried to keep track of each pair of Changelings fighting the black vines while also watching for new incursions of the plants. The fight against the botanical invaders wasn’t going well, to be honest, but it wasn’t a disaster either. There were simply too many clumps of vines to deal with, and Royal Guard wasn’t as much help as it could be since a large fraction of the force was focused on locating Celestia and Luna. Panic was the dominant emotion in the city, and vines were wreaking minor havoc on the paved streets and stone buildings of the city.

Despite the bad odds, the Changelings were fighting in high spirits, as the green fire and sticky goo their emotion-charged magic conjured seemed to be the natural antithesis of whatever magic drove the vines. As Chrysalis ahd predicted, the ponies of Canterlot tended to be frightened by the sight of Changeling flying about, but wherever the Changelings burned back a clump of vines and rescued a pony being harassed or captured, the fear quickly gave way to relief and gratitude, and some of the rescued even managed to rally the courage to help fight back. Judging by the status reports Cabbage got from the Changelings, her estimation on the balance of energy expended casting spells against energy received from grateful ponies was actually tipping significantly toward the latter; most ‘lings actually came out of scuffles with more magic in reserve than they had at the start.

I just wish we could do more than slow the tide, Cabbage thought wearily.

My Queen! a Changeling called to her unexpectedly, Could you come to our location? Imago and I found something you might find… enjoyable.

Cabbage frowned. We don’t have time for distractions, Kumquat, she replied, no matter how amusing.

Trust me, Kumquat said, this will be worth your time. The statement was followed up by a mental image that brought a wicked grin to Cabbage’s face after a second.

I’ll be right there, Cabbage said, angling into a dive toward the noble quarter of the city.

She landed into front of a mansion that was covered in black vines of all sizes. One vine was reaching out of the front door and coiled almost completely around a white, blonde-mane stallion and holding him several feet off the ground. The Changelings Kumquat and Imago stood on either side of the stallion, using their magic to keep the vine mostly still. Cabbage smirked at the unicorn and said, “Hello, Prince Blueblood.”

“Finally, the queen bee appears,” Blueblood huffed. “Tell your drones to quit messing around get me free of this bothersome vine, would you?”

“I’d love to, Blueblood,” Cabbage said, “but, I can’t help but realize this is the first time I’ve managed to get within speaking distance of you for more than a couple seconds in the past… what’s it been? Two weeks?”

“Almost three, I think,” Imago offered. “The next meeting of the land rights committee is the day after tomorrow.”

“Right,” Cabbage said. “So, Blueblood, while I’ve got you here, let’s discuss that meeting.” She grabbed Blueblood and the vine in her magic and pulled them down so his face was level with hers. “I’m tired of you weaseling out of providing that deed to the mines you claim to have, so I’m not getting you out of this unless you promise to take me straight to wherever you’re hiding it. I’ll take it and present it to the committee myself, because I frankly don’t trust you to do it.” Blueblood spluttered and stammered, staring at Cabbage with wide eyes, and the Queen said, “Yes, I will show the committee your deed because I want those mines bad enough that I’ll do things the legal and proper way so nopony can give me and my Changelings grief about it later.” She released Blueblood and watched as he bounced about in the air for bit. “So, what’s it going to be, Blueblood?” she asked.

Blueblood’s eyes darted around, and he started to sweat. “Ah,” he said, “the thing is…” Before Cabbage could press him to continue, a wave of golden-white, rainbow-tinted light appeared on the horizon and began sweeping rapidly toward Canterlot. The Hive Mind quickly filled with panic as the Changelings, recalling the effects of two similar waves of light in recent history, took to the sky in a vain effort to escape. The light washed over Canterlot, and the panic gave way to confusion as the Changelings found themselves unmolested, and then surprise and celebration as the black vines and spiky clouds disintegrated.

Blueblood dropped the ground as the vine holding him broke apart, and he scrambled to his feet with surprising agility. “Ha-ha!” he exclaimed, making a break for his mansion, “You can’t hold a mighty prince of unicorns against his will, insect!” Cabbage, Imago, and Kumquat exchanged a quick, wordless thought and simultaneously shot their magic at Blueblood’s hooves, trapping him in goo up to his knees. Blueblood yelped as he wobbled back and forth until his momentum bled out, and then he looked back at the Changelings with drooping ears and defeat in his eyes. “You… you haven’t won yet,” he said. “This is unlawful imprisonment.”

“Whatever,” Cabbage said, using her magic to separate the entrapping goo from the ground and levitating the unicorn noble into the air. “We’re taking this matter to Princess Celestia, as soon as she’s been located.”

A Season of Plenty

Thanks to Cabbage’s actions during the Plundervine incident, the Changelings began to see an immediate and significant improvement in their fortune over the next several weeks…

Princess Celestia blinked wearily, trying to chase off the tired ache of her eyes without rubbing them with a hoof and spoiling the dignity of a monarch holding court. If Blueblood keeps prattling much longer though, Celestia thought, he’s going to elicit a well-deserved yawn. She shooed the intrusive thought off and tried to focus on her erstwhile nephew’s speech, only to realize he’d run out of steam at last.

As tired and distracted as Celestia was from a full night struggling to escape the plundervines that had held her captive, she had managed to follow the main points of Blueblood’s complaints and the reason this private court session was happening in the first place. She turned her head to Queen Cabbage Patch, who stood opposite Blueblood before the throne and was accompanied by two Changelings that had been introduced to the Princess as Imago and Kumquat. While those two Changelings were in their natural forms, Cabbage had taken her usual appearance of a sea-green earth pony of above-average height.

“Queen Patch,” Celestia said, “I would hear your rebuttal to the prince’s accusations.”

Cabbage gave Blueblood a scathing look before answering. “Did I forcibly drag him here?” she asked rhetorically. “Yes. But as your own Guard will attest, Princess, as soon as I was sure my petition to see you was on record and the Guard would keep Blueblood from slinking away, I let him go. As to the complaints that his fur is ruined from the goo: the stain will wash out, and you can always shave your fetlocks if the green bothers you that much.” Blueblood tensed up and opened his mouth to sputter a retort, but a look from Celestia silenced him. “All his complaints,” Cabbage continued, “are minor issues at best, brought up to try and distract from the reason we’re here: my complaint against him, Your Highness.”

Celestia nodded. “Right,” she said, “the matter of obstructing the transfer of land rights of those old mines to the Changeling Hive.” She sighed and glanced down at a small stack of papers to on the arm of her throne. “Luna has been following the proceedings of the sub-council on land rights these last few weeks,” she said at last, “and if those if cursed plants of Discord’s hadn’t chosen last night to suddenly wake up, she’d probably be preparing to attend the next meeting. As it is…” She levitated the papers and sent them toward Cabbage. “This is the deed Prince Blueblood has been claiming to possess,” she said. “Or, rather, the most recent copy of it, dating back three hundred years. It granted ownership of the crystal mines to the main line of descent from Princess Platinum – Blueblood’s family. However,” she raised an eyebrow at Blueblood, “that ownership was only valid so long as the mines were being worked, and fifty years ago, Blueblood’s grandmother decided the mines had been played out and ceased operations. Thus, the mines, and the deed, reverted to Crown control.”

Cabbage’s eyes widened slightly, and then arrowed as she glared at Blueblood. “You knew your claim wasn’t actually legal from the start, didn’t you?” she accused.

“I am trying to protect this city!” Blueblood exclaimed, giving Celestia an imploring look. “Princess, you can’t seriously trust these Changelings to build a new hive right under our hooves! Who knows what they could do to us!”

“There are better ways to make your concerns known than perjuring yourself before the city government,” Celestia said sharply. “Prince Blueblood, you are hereby placed on house arrest until I’ve caught up on my sleep and can give proper thought to your punishment.” She then turned a gentle smile onto Cabbage and said, “On behalf of Princess Luna, I am extending the Changeling Hive’s parole to include the management and development of the crystal mines.”

Cabbage fought down a gleeful squeal and bowed deeply, mentally nudging Imago and Kumquat to follow suit. “Thank you, Princess Celestia,” Cabbage said. “Thank you.”

A team of six ponies wearing hard hats, orange safety vests, and protective shoes and hauling several carts full of tools and materials approached the Shifting Perspectives Theater. The forepony of the group, a brawny orange earth pony, looked around at the Changelings swarming around the dorm annex, removing the dessicated remains of plundervines that were wedged into cracks where windows used to be. The forepony then caught sight of Trixie, who was piling up the vines that been removed, and approached her. “Excuse me, ma’am,” the forepony said, “are you in charge around here?”

Trixie raised an eyebrow at the earth pony. “Well,” she said, “no Changeling’s stepped up as ‘in charge’ so far as I know, so I guess I could be. What can I do for you, gentlecolts?”

“We’re part of the disaster recovery effort,” the forepony said. “We’re here to repair any damage this building sustained.”

“Oh really,” Trixie said, surprised. “One second then.” She turned toward the annex and conjured up a whistle to blow to get the attention of the Changelings. “Some help has arrived,” Trixie announced, indicating the repair crew.

The Changelings were silent for a moment, apparently digesting the news, and then cheered as a couple trotted over to welcome the ponies and get them up to speed. The repair crew quickly got to work, and Trixie noted that none of them seemed to flinch at being in close proximity to the Changelings.

“I have to admit I’m surprised,” Trixie told the forepony. “I never expected the official repair efforts to get to the theater so quickly. If at all.”

The forepony gave Trixie a smile. “Everypony in this crew either saw these Changelings help fight off the vines or were personally rescued by one. We banded together and agreed that repaying that effort is our top priority.”

“I see,” Trixie said. She started gathering vines again, but after a minute a thought occurred to her and she tracked down the forepony again. “By any chance,” she asked, “does anypony in your crew know somepony looking to get into show business?”

The day after the plundervine attack, Cabbage called for a meeting of the entire Shifting Perspectives Theater staff, which meant all the Changelings, Trixie, Harlequin, and Maggie Pie. Cabbage stood on the stage while everyone else sat in the first two rows of the audience. As Cabbage surveyed her small court, she flashed back the times she had stood before even smaller crowds and froze up from anxiety. She found the lack of such stage fright in the present to be… a jarring absence. How ridiculous, she thought, rolling her eyes, that I’m actually missing an unwelcome sensation.

Our support and adoration repels it, Queen Patch, a Changeling replied to the thought.

The Queen’s social anxiety is inversely proportional to the number of Changelings near her, another quipped, earning some mental groans from the Hive.

“Alright, settle down,” Cabbage said aloud. “I’m very pleased with everyling for how we composed ourselves during the crisis yesterday. We brought in more emotional energy than in any other day since I became Queen, as I’m sure you’re aware. More importantly, though, it seems we’ve established a great deal of goodwill from the general populace, more than I expected. There’s no telling how long the goodwill will last, since ponies are fickle and easily swayed.”

“Oi!” Harlequin protested.

“Speaking in a general sense, I mean” Cabbage said. “Individual ponies can be stalwart, but as a species they have a herd mentality that can be easily swayed by rumors and passionate speech. Canterlot’s herd mentality is in our favor right now, so we must squeeze as much use out of it as possible and keep the public opinion in our favor.

“Thanks to Princess Celestia, the crystal mines in the mountain are officially ours, so we can focus our efforts on The Changeling of the Opera and the rest of our upcoming theater season. We still need to hire a stage crew, and having some ponies in the cast wouldn’t hurt either.”

“The Great and Proactive Trixie has already started working on that,” Trixie said, reclining in her seat. “Some of those fine ponies currently fixing the dorm annex have expressed an interest in helping build the sets.”

“Good work, Trixie,” Cabbage said, “but we’re going to need more. Now is the perfect time to start advertising calls for stage crew and open auditions. I want suggestions and mock-ups for ads by the end of tomorrow, and we’ll start the auditions and interviews next week. Any questions?” The audience was silent, so Cabbage continued, “Ok. We also need to start thinking about life after the theater season ends. The acclaim we can get from one successful show to a full house could feed us for a month, but we need to make strong, personal connections to ponies as well, and for two reasons. One reason, of course, is the best emotions only come from personal connections. The more important reason though, is building friendships with ponies will make us feel like a ‘normal’ part of Equestrian society, which will lead to ponies being more open with their emotions around us, which makes passive harvesting easier and more productive.”

“Awful lot of work for a slow payoff,” Chrysalis said.

“Oh, you think so?” Turnip asked sarcastically. “Because I’m thinking it’ll actually take a little less work, seeing that-”

Cabbage gave the pair a withering look. “Can’t you two go a day without getting into these arguments?” she asked in exasperation. “Anyway,” she said, “that should be all for now, unless anyling or anypony else has any new business to bring up.”

“I’ve got something, if that’s ok,” said a voice from the back of the theater, a voice that Cabbage recognized. The Changeling Queen added wings to her pony guise and flew up a little to get a better look at the back. She saw a young, white unicorn with a pink and light-purple mane and cutie mark of a linked pair of heart-shaped musical notes.

“Sweetie Belle?!” Cabbage exclaimed, equally surprised and elated. She flew over and shared a hug with the unicorn. “What are you doing here?” Cabbage asked.

“Rarity and her friends have some ceremony for saving the day yesterday,” Sweetie said with a casual air. “I tagged along so I could visit you, since you’re probably too busy to come back to Ponyville any time soon.” She took a step back and examined Cabbage. “You sure got bigger all of a sudden,” she said at last.

“One of the perks of being Queen, it seems,” Cabbage said. “So, did you interrupt this meeting just to say hello, or…?”

“No,” Sweetie said, “I’ve got real business too. One sec.” She walked out of the theater and returned a moment later with two other ponies. The first was a gray earth pony with a near-black mane, a purple treble clef cutie mark, was wearing a pink bow tie, and had a bland expression on her face to hide her nervousness at being around so many Changelings. The second pony was a white unicorn with an uneven two-toned blue mane, linked eighth notes for a cutie mark, and was wearing magenta sunglasses and big, light blue headphones. Her head was bobbing to some beat, and so far as Cabbage could sense she was unperturbed by the dozens of Changelings scrutinizing her and her companion. “Cabbage Patch,” Sweetie Belle said, “This is Octavia and Vinyl Scratch.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Cabbage said, extending a hoof to shake. She paused as a spark of recognition started echoing around the Hive Mind, and after she traced it to its source her eyes widened slightly. “Wait,” she said, “Vinyl Scratch, as in DJ-Pon3?”

“The same,” Sweetie Belle and Octavia said at the same time. Vinyl just smiled as she kept head-bobbing, and then grabbed and shook Cabbage’s hovering hoof.

“It, uh, seems you have a couple fans among this bunch,” Cabbage said, waving a hoof toward the Changelings, “but, what can I do for you?”

“I hear you’re putting on a musical,” Sweetie Belle answered, “and since Octavia and Vinyl are some of the best musical ponies ever, I-” Octavia gently put a hoof over Sweetie’s mouth, and the filly stopped herself short.

“To be frank,” Octavia said, “she pestered me until I agreed to come see what you’re doing.”

“The Crusaders can be a persuasive bunch,” Cabbage said with a sympathetic smile.

Vinyl Scratch smirked.

“Quite,” Octavia agreed. “So, what is this musical you… Changelings are planning?”

“The Changeling of the Opera,” Cabbage answered. “First official off-Bridleway production of it, in fact.”

Octavia and Vinyl both raised their eyebrows, and the DJ’s head-bobbing slowed to half speed. “No kidding?” Octavia exclaimed. “I’ve seen it. The score is simply superb, something I would love to take part in performing one day.”

Cabbage cast a glance at Sweetie Belle, who was giving her a beaming grin. “Well,” Cabbage told Octavia, “it just so happens we haven’t found an orchestra yet. If you don’t mind working alongside Changelings, we’d be happy to have you audition.”

Octavia’s face brightened, and her apprehensions faded almost to nothing. “Oh, I couldn’t possibly turn down the opportunity,” she said. “Vinyl, can you-” she turned to address her companion, but the white unicorn had wandered off, moving down a row of seats toward the sound booth. “Ah,” Octavia said, looking back at Cabbage, “do you have a sound tech yet, by chance?”

“No,” Cabbage said hesitantly. She looked over at Vinyl, who had lifted her glasses from her eyes as she inspected the control panel, and comprehension dawned on Cabbage. “No offense, Ms. Octavia,” Cabbage said, “but I don’t think if this play is… quite up her alley.”

“Showtunes aren’t her genre of choice, I’ll admit,” Octavia said, “but her music depends entirely on mastering a soundboard. Vinyl’s perfectly willing to lend you her expertise. Right, Scratch?” Vinyl glanced over, waved a hoof in an affirmative gesture, and then went back to inspecting the equipment. “Yes,” Octavia said to Cabbage, “she is ‘on board.’”

“Great,” Cabbage said. “I’ll send you a notice when we’ve picked a date for orchestra auditions.”

One Week Later

Cabbage’s head spun as she walked into her office, shutting the door firmly behind her before walking over to and climbing into her chair. The first round of open auditions had just ended, a full hour and a half after the expected time. Cabbage had had no idea there were so many ponies in Canterlot and the surrounding towns who had an interest, if not outright Cutie Marked talent, in acting and the strength of gut and character to willingly work alongside Changelings. The work of narrowing the field down for callbacks still needed to be done, and the Changelings with major roles in the play as well as Chrysalis were dominating the Hive Mind with the discussions, but Cabbage was not in the mood to take part. Turnip, Lemon Zest, she instructed the Lorekeepers, I need to rest my brain. Shield me from anything that’s not an emergency, please.

We’ll do our best, Turnip replied. A few moments later, the constant mental chatter faded to a buzz in the back of Cabbage’s mind, and she sighed in relief. It wasn’t the complete privacy of her own thoughts she’d spent the greater part of her life with, but it was as close as she would get without physically moving far, far away from every other Changeling in the city.

Within minutes of getting comfortable and finding a song she could focus on to drown out the buzzing, Cabbage’s reprieve was cut mercilessly short by the opening of her door and the entrance of a brown unicorn stallion with a short white mane and four green gems for a cutie mark, followed closely by Morph. With an irritated grunt, Cabbage sat up straighter and dispelled her pony guise in a slow burn, impulsively deciding this pony was worth scaring off, if possible. “What is the meaning of this?” she asked in a buzzing growl.

To his credit, the unicorn only stopped for a half second before approaching the desk and bowing respectfully. “Queen Patch,” he said, “my name is Rare Find, and I need to speak with you about Morph, here.”

Cabbage looked at Morph, who was avoiding her gaze with a pained look on his face. “I see,” Cabbage said, softening her tone a little. “Would you happen to be one of the ponies Morph keeps aggressively feeding from?”

“No,” Rare Find said, “I’m the pony he apparently keeps over-reacting to feeding from, at least over the last few weeks. I’m in the antiques trade, and Morph’s got a good eye for quality goods and…. dishonest dealers. Whenever we have a particularly good day, though, and I’m feeling particularly cheerful, he’ll start acting worried out of the blue and then run off, presumably to you because he thinks he’s taking too much happiness or something from me.”

Cabbage leaned forward and looked Rare Find in the eye. “I appreciate your concern, Mr. Find, “she said, “but we Changelings are such thin ice that we have to be extremely cautious about not drawing in more emotional energy from the ponies around us than we’re being offered.”

“Morph’s taking that too far,” Rare Find insisted. “He only freaks out when I’m feeling on top of the world around him, and I’ve never felt, uh, drained after spending time with him.” He looked at the changeling in question and added, “As I’ve told him several times.”

Cabbage focused all her sense on Rare Find, feeling his emotional state. Morph, she asked over the Hive Mind, have you fed from him today?

Yes, My Queen, Morph answered, just a bit ago. I felt I was overdoing it again and tried to slip away, but he cornered me and demanded an explanation and… now we’re here.

I see, Cabbage said, focusing on Rare Find again. Well, aside from a predictable frustration at you, he doesn’t seem to be emotionally compromised. Maybe you have been overreacting a bit.

But, Morph protested, I started actively drawing in his feelings of pride and appreciation.

“Oh, Morph,” Cabbage said aloud,shaking her head, “I think I get it now.” Morph and Rare Find both looked at her quizzically. “I’ve taken a strong stance against forcibly pulling love out of ponies, but there’s nothing wrong with actively taking in emotions a pony is sending at you. It may feel the same, but it isn’t.”

“Well,” Morph said, “how do I tell the difference then? I’ve tried asking the Lorekeeper and others for advice but I just…”

“You’re probably overthinking it,” Rare Find said. “Besides, shouldn’t you know how, uh…” He glanced around searching for a good word.

“Overdrawing emotions feels?” Morph suggested.

“Yeah,” Rare said.

“I wasn’t a gatherer before Chrysalis’s Folly,” Morph said. “More of a… quartermaster, I guess. One of the drones in charge of maintaining the love reserves.”

Wait. Why’d you volunteer to be a Collector, then? Cabbage asked.

Because Citron didn’t want to, Morph answered simply.

“What you need then, I think,” Rare Find said, “is practice.” He stepped closer to Morph and put a hoof on the Changeling’s back. “You and me stick together all day, or as long as it take to figure out together where the line is. If that’s ok with you, Your Majesty,” he said to Cabbage.

“Sounds good in theory,” Cabbage admitted, “but it could be dangerous to your health, Rare Find.”

“Queen Patch,” Rare Find declared, “I consider Morph a real friend, and I’d be happy to take a few risks to help him out. What’s the worst that him overfeeding could do to me anyway?”

“Permanent damage to the emotional center of your brain, at the least,” Cabbage said, reciting the data Turnip was helpfully providing. Rare Find swallowed nervously, but regained his composure quickly. “That’s from extensive, long-term harvesting though,” Cabbage said. “The more common, early signs are recurring headaches, irrational anger or sadness, disorientation, and flattening affect. Watch for those, and you should be fine.” She made a mental note to recommend a similar exercise to any other Changeling that was having issues adapting to her methods, passed that note on to Turnip, and made shooing motion to Morph and Rare Find. “I would like to get back to my ‘me’ time, if you two don’t mind,” she said.

“Of course, right away, My Queen,” Morph said with a little panic, and quickly herded Rare Find out of the office. Cabbage shut and locked the door after them, and then put her earth pony guise back up.

“You’re doing a good job here,” Cabbage said to herself, sinking back into her chair. “Just keep telling yourself that.”

The Horror of Tirek

The curtains rose on the scene of Crystal Diadem, the female lead of the play whose wonderful singing voice had drawn the attention of the titular Changeling of the Opera, being lead onto the roof of the opera house by her childhood friend and romantic interest, Rolled Cash, in the wake of a disastrous tantrum from the mysterious Changeling. As they ran, Crystal was protesting, “It’s useless to flee.There’s no place where he cannot see.”

Rolled stopped at center stage and gestured around the stage, which had nothing on besides a backdrop and a gargoyle in each corner. “We could he hide, my dear?” he said. “We’re safe for now, right here.” He pulled Crystal close and hugged her. “This ghost will not harm you while I still stand.”

“Oh Rolled!” Crystal cried, hugging him back, “I’m not afraid for myself, but for you! O.G. would never wish me harm. All this, everything he’s done, frightening as it is, he’s done to… to… he loves me, Rolled.”

Out in the audience seating, Cabbage put her hooves over her eyes and groaned. “Again,” she muttered. In a blink, the stage was reset to the start of the scene. When the curtain rose, though, Rolled was dressed in the Changeling’s disguise from the masquerade scene that opened the second act. Cabbage growled, and everything reset again.

Princess Luna appeared next to Cabbage in a beam of moonlight. “Are you well, Cabbage?” Luna asked, watching the scene start again with everypony walking on the ceiling. “You’ve been replaying this one scene over and over in your dreams for the past three nights.”

Cabbage shrugged, letting the upside-down play continue for the moment. “We open in… four days now,” she said, “and everything else is going fine, but there’s something about this scene that keeps tripping Lemon Zest up. I guess she really likes delivering the line where Crystal claims she has a different sort of love for Rolled than she does for Error the Changeling, and Lemon keeps skipping lines to get to it faster.”

Luna regarded the action on stage, which began to devolve into nonsensical babbling as Cabbage’s attention drifted from it. “I’ll admit I don’t understand how the Changeling Hive Mind works,” she said, “but is it possible your own concerns about this scene are bleeding into Lemon Zest’s mind? As I recall, Error misinterprets Crystal’s statements and begins to target Rolled Cash more specifically in the second act. Are you worried the audience may also miss the point?”

“The Changeling character does get more dangerous after this,” Cabbage said, frowning. “But, the finale in Error’s lair straightens everything out. More or less.” The stage shifted to the scene in question – set in a dark, underground space filled with an eclectic mix of set pieces with the most prominent being a small pipe organ – where Error was a holding a noose tight around Rolled’s neck while trying to corner Crystal into a choice between staying in the Changeling’s lair forever or watching her love die. It was an intense stand-off where words would not be sufficient.

Before Cabbage could continue her line of thought, however, a loud, tortured scream tore through the dreamscape. The stage and players disintegrated into puffs of light that were blown away, and Cabbage was bowled over by the sound, which made the very air tremble visibly. Luna tried to brace against the onslaught, but the screams lifted her as easily as the remnants of the dream-stage, and she would have been driven out of the dream entirely had Cabbage not instinctively reached out and grabbed her hoof, giving the princess an anchor to stay in Cabbage’s mind.

“What’s happening?” Luna shouted over the scream, which was started to be echoed by similar sounds. “This is… no dream element like I’ve ever felt.”

“It’s the Hive Mind!” Cabbage realized. “Something’s happened to one of the Changelings, something terrible!” She focused her will, changing her dream-self to reflect her natural Changeling form in the process, and pushed back against the screams, blocking the echoed ones and trying to isolate the original and reach the mind of the Changeling producing it. After a moment, she felt Turnip, Chrysalis, and Lemon Zest’s minds join hers in the fight.

I’ve identified them, Lemon reported, her mental voice loud and clear to both Cabbage and Luna over the noise. It’s Morph!

“What’s wrong?” Cabbage asked.

He’s being attacked, Chrysalis said. The screams stopped suddenly, and after a tense second, Chrysalis stated what everyling could sense: His mind’s gone silent. Morph’s dead.

“How?” Luna and Cabbage exclaimed.

I can’t quite tell, Turnip said, Lemon and I both caught his last sensations, but the pain was so intense… everything’s jumbled.

Wait, Lemon Zest cut in. There are some echoes of the last coherent thing he saw. Let me see if I can put them together…

Gradually, an image formed in the empty space before Cabbage and Luna: a long, greyish-red face with black eyes, short horns, and a white beard staring from the depths of a hood.

“No!” Luna gasped, slipping out of Cabbage’s grip and rapidly fading away as she backed away from the image. “It can’t be him.”

“Luna!” Cabbage shouted, trying to chase down and catch the vanishing alicorn. “What is it?”

Luna shook her head. “Find the body, Cabbage, quickly,” she said before vanishing completely.

In the next instant, Cabbage woke up in her bed, gasping for air and with her mind full of confused and scared Changeling chatter.

Ultimately, it was Chrysalis who found Morph’s corpse, in a back alley in an area of Canterlot known for shops of dubious repute, alongside a barely conscious Rare Find. Chrysalis lingered over the brown unicorn for a moment, probing at his emotional aura, before broadcasting her location and turning to examine Morph’s remains. The Changeling had been reduced to a withered husk, barely more than chitin with bits inside that rattled when Chrysalis nudged the corpse with her hoof.

Good work, Chrysalis, Cabbage said. I’ll be there shortly.

It’s not a pretty picture, Patch, Chrysalis responded. You might want to spare your pony’s heart the shock.

I have to see for myself, Cabbage said. Imago, any luck getting in contact with Princess Luna?

Oh yes, My Queen, Imago replied with a trace of humor. I got to the castle gate just as a messenger came from the Princess telling the guards to take any Changelings straight to her. I’ll tell her where Morph is.

Cabbage Patch and Luna arrived at the alley at about the same time. Luna was accompanied by two of her bat-winged guards and a unicorn whose armor bore insignia denoting him as a medic. Chrysalis pointed to Morph’s corpse with an almost careless gesture, but it was Rare Find that caught everypony’s attention. While Luna and the medic hurried over to the brown unicorn and the bat-ponies took up sentry positions around the scene, Cabbage went over to Chrysalis and said, “You didn’t mention finding a pony as well!”

“Didn’t I?” Chrysalis asked. “Silly me.”

Cabbage glowered at the former queen, and then went over to Rare Find, stopping a short distance away so as not to interfere with Luna and the guards. “What happened to him?” Cabbage asked.

Luna sighed and shook her head sadly. “It’s as we feared,” she said, “the poor stallion’s magic is gone, taken from him.”

“Taken?” Cabbage exclaimed.

Chrysalis looked over, intrigued. “I know at least a half-dozen ways to interrupt or briefly disable a unicorn’s ability to use magic, but how can it be taken away entirely?”

Luna averted her gaze and frowned. Cabbage could feel waves of fear and uncertainty radiating from the alicorn, and that made Cabbage’s own anxieties start to swell. Something that makes even Princess Luna frightened, she thought. Do I even want to know what that could be?She looked over at the remains of Morph and shuddered. It killed one of my Changelings. Horribly.

Rare Find stirred suddenly and gasped something. Everypony except the two bat-ponies gathered closer as the unicorn inhaled and tried to speak again. “Lord… Tirek…” he said. “Called himself… Lord Tirek.”

“Tirek?” Cabbage mused aloud. Turnip, does that name show up anywhere in our lore?

The Hive Mind stilled momentarily as ever Changeling waited for the Lorekeeper’s response. If it did, Turnip said at last, it’s lost lore now. My apologies my Queen.

“Tirek is perhaps the greatest threat Equestria has ever faced,” Luna said, “even worse than Discord at his most sadistic, perhaps. The latter spread misery and confusion for his own amusement, but Tirek… hopelessness follows in his wake.” She turned and faced the tow Changelings directly. “A thousand years ago, Tirek and his brother, Scorpan, came to Equestria from a distant land to steal pony magic for their own use. When they arrived, though, Scorpan was impressed by the power of friendship the ponies displayed, and embraced it. He warned my sister and I of Tirek’s plot, and we sealed him away in Tartarus. Now, he’s free again, and clearly hungry to regain the power that was lost to him over the centuries.”

“So, this creature steals magic from ponies,” Chrysalis said. “That doesn’t tell us why we have a dead Changeling here too.”

“He tried to protect me,” Rare Find said. “Morph was walking me home, and I bumped into him in this alley. He was wearing a cloak and was hunched over, so I thought he was just another pony at first. I apologized for bumping into him, and he said something about taking what was rightfully his as he threw back his hood. I guess Morph sensed his intentions, because he threw himself between Tirek and me just as the monster started… inhaling. I saw the magic pouring out Morph, and he shriveled up like a… a…” Rare Find shuddered, and his eyes went blank for a second. “I couldn’t… couldn’t even move, I was so frightened. Then, Tirek came for me.”

“But you’re still alive,” Chrysalis said, accusingly.

“Settle down, Chrysalis,” Cabbage said, although she didn’t feel too settled herself. “Rare Find is a friend.It’s not his fault this happened to Morph.” She forced herself to look at Morph’s remains. “What do we do?” she wondered. “Princess Luna, how are we going to stop Tirek? This can’t happen again, to anypony or Changeling.”

Luna’s ears drooped, and she looked away. “I… do not know,” she said.

There was little chance of sleep after witnessing the scene in the alley, and sunrise was due to occur soon, so Cabbage decided to hold an emergency meeting of the senior staff of the Shifting Perspectives Theater – namely Trixie, Harlequin, and Maggie Pie along with Turnip and Chrysalis – as soon as she got back. The ponies were all confused and cranky to be woken up before sunrise and herded into Cabbage’s office. Trixie made a show of keeping her sleeping cap on to drive home the point that she’d rather be in her bed, but once Cabbage explained what had happened to Morph and Rare Find, Trixie ditched the cap and she and Maggie became all business. Harlequin only seemed to get crankier.

“Do we have any idea where this Tirek creature is now?” Maggie asked.

Cabbage shook her head. “Rare Find was too dazed after being drained to see which way he fled,” she said. “And anyway, he’s got a whole city to hide in.”

“Well, surely the Princesses have some plan to track him down,” Trixie said. “Comb Canterlot with the Royal Guard, bring in Twilight Sparkle and the Elements of Harmony to lure him into the open and then blast him… something like that?”

Turnip, Cabbage, and Chrysalis all exchanged a look. “I don’t think they have a plan yet,” Chrysalis said at length.

“Come again?” Harlequin asked.

“Imago’s staying in the castle for now,” Turnip answered, “trying to keep us in the loop with the what the Princesses are doing. Right now… they’re still getting over their shock that Tirek’s escaped from Tartarus.”

“Ok, that does it, then,” Harlequin said, walking away. “I’m out of here.”

“Where are you going, Quin?” Trixie asked.

“Anywhere but here,” Harlequin snapped. “Far, far away from all this nonsense. I’m done. I didn’t sign up for Changelings, politics, getting attacked by rock monsters or chaotic plants or magic-sucking beings from Tartarus! I’m just an acrobat, for pony’s sake! I just want to perform for ponies, rake in a few bits, and maybe spend them on something nice once in a while. I. Am. Done. With all of you.” He stormed out of the office, leaving the door ajar behind him.

“Hmph,” Chrysalis said. “Should have seen that coming. He’s probably got the right idea, though. It appears Tirek’s power to drain magic, while merely devastating to a pony, is fatal to Changelings. We should get the Hive as far away from him as possible.”

“And go where?” Turnip scoffed. “Everything we’ve done to establish goodwill with ponies has been centered here, in Canterlot. This is a perfect opportunity to cement the impression we gave this city during the plundervine attack. We should stay and try to help.”

Chrysalis gave Turnip a look of mild horror. “There are only twenty-four of us left, Lorekeeper,” she said. “Are you proposing we go and fight a monster that can kill us by breathing in our general direction, when he’s probably not even hunting Changelings in the first place?”

“Don’t put words in my mouth,” Turnip snapped. “It may be enough just to get eyes on him, so the Princesses know where to go once they come up with a plan.” He looked up at Cabbage pointedly. “It’s not our call to make, anyway,” he said. “What shall we do, Queen Cabbage?”

Cabbage’s mouth opened, but no words came out. The image of Morph’s dried-out corpse and the memory of his dying screams in the Hive Mind played over and over in her mind, drowning out her attempts to think. She couldn’t go through that horror again, but she couldn’t sit back and let the monster who’d killed one of her own remain a threat to others. “I… I d-don’t…” she managed to stammer out.

“Does it have to be one or the other?” Trixie asked. She was fearful, likely imagining losing her own magic to Tirek, but Cabbage could also feel the unicorn was trying to radiate calm and confidence, and below it all was an unfaltering sense of care for Cabbage Patch.

“No,” Cabbage said, moving closer to Trixie, “it doesn’t. We can do both. Turnip, take some Changelings and go to the old mines. Make sure they’re secure so we can fall back and hide there if necessary. Chrysalis, you and the rest of the Hive spread out through the city and locate Tirek. If he hates ponies so much, I bet his emotions will give away his hiding place. But – and let me be absolutely clear – do not get near him. Just relay the information to Imago. Understood?”

Turnip and Chrysalis both hesitated for a second at being assigned with the task the other one had proposed, but they both nodded their assent.

Restaurant Row’s still clear.

So’s the north side.

Chrysalis ground her hoof on the pavement in frustration. “Search the city,” she muttered in a mockery of Cabbage’s voice. “It shouldn’t be hard to find Tirek. Oh no,” she shifted her voice back to normal, “no way a monster like that could hide from a mere eighteen Changelings in a city this big.”

Your whining is not helping, Turnip chided.

Chrysalis stomped her hoof a couple of times and stormed off into a convenient alleyway to find something to vent her frustration on. Mind your own business, Lorekeeper, she said over the Hive Mind. While you’ve been cozying up those caves – which was my idea if you recall – I’ve been flitting about nonstop all day on a wild goose chase! And what’s our spy in the castle been doing? she added after a moment, zeroing in on Imago’s mental presence. Not one word on what the ponies are doing about Tirek since sunrise, and the sun’s practically set now!

For your information, Imago replied stiffly, the Princesses have been behind closed doors all day, plotting. Princess Twilight just stepped out, and I’m trying to ask her for information. She’s… feeling conflicted. Doubtful about whatever she’s been told. She’s ignoring me, but muttering under her breath. Something about… relying on Discord?

Discord, Chrysalis thought. Surely the Princesses aren’t trusting that creature to stop Tirek.

The Hive Mind rumbled with opinions and speculation. Many Changelings shared Chrysalis’s doubt, but some pointed out how Discord had been on the pony side in the battle they called Chrysalis’s Folly. Eventually, Cabbage Patch leaned on the Hive Mind, putting an end to the discussion. If Celestia and Luna trust Discord to handle things, then so should we, she said.

Chrysalis rolled her eyes and took flight to reach the roof the building the alley ran behind. If that’s the case, she thought, we should just pull back and wait for the fireworks to die down.

Debate broke out in the Hive Mind again. Some Changelings agreed with Chrysalis, while others argued that they should keep searching anyway just so Tirek’s location would be known. Chrysalis stayed out of the argument, feeling disgusted at the disunity she was witnessing. “We used to be of one voice,” she grumbled as she flitted over to the next rooftop and started hopping from building to building back in the direction of the theater. “My voice. Now we squabble, dozens of conflicting opinions, because the Queen does not enforce her will strongly enough.” She alighted on a roof as she finished her little rant and braced herself for the mental backlash those comments would bring from the ungrateful bugs she had once called her children, but no backlash came. Chrysalis realized suddenly that the chatter of the Hive Mind had stopped, and when she reached out she could sense no thoughts but her own.

Just as Chrysalis started to wonder what had happened, she got an explanation in the form of a comment from the alley behind the building she was standing on: “…that should hide us from sight, sound, and even mental detection. So, let’s talk details, Tirek.”

Tirek! Chyrsalis thought, creeping to the edge of the roof. She peered over and saw the wizened centaur, dressed in a concealing cloak with the hood pulled down, talking to the unmistakably mis-matched spirit of Chaos himself, Discord.

“It’s a simple plan, Discord,” Tirek said, his voice raspy but strong, “you bring ponies to me, using whatever methods you desire, and I take their magic to increase my strength until I can stand before the alicorn princesses and take their magic. The only limitation is we’ll have to focus on unicorn ponies at first; their magic is closest to the surface and the easiest for me to take as I am now.”

Chrysalis crouched on the roof, watching with a deep frown on her face. I rather doubt this is what Celestia had in mind, she thought. The fools just handed their enemy an ally, and they don’t realize yet. Equestria is doomed if I don’t… She hesitated and glanced around as she realized the full implications of her accidentally stumbling into the privacy field Discord had erected. Yes, she thought, smirking, the poor ponies are doomed. So what?

Naturally, it wasn’t long before Discord’s betrayal became evident. As soon as word reached the castle of how the dragonequus had lured dozens of unicorns to a “magic show,” only to bring Tirek onto the stage and let him drain the audience of their magic, Imago immediately fled toward the old crystal mines even as he alerted the Hive to the news. As the Changelings who’d still been out searching congregated at the entrance to the caverns, a debate arose about bringing some ponies down into the mines as well.

“Why would we need ponies down here?” one Changeling asked. “The Lorekeeper’s group managed to move most of our love reserves in already. We can last until this all blows over.”

“Not for our survival, you dunce,” another said, “but to try and protect some of them from Tirek. We probably won’t be able to get many to safety, but the gesture would be appreciated.”

“But what if bringing ponies with us lets Discord and Tirek find us by tracking them?” a third asked.

“Who says they can even do that? Besides, do you really think the Queen’s going to bar those two from joining us?”

The two being referenced were, of course, Maggie Pie and Trixie, who were standing nearby on either side of Cabbage, observing the argument.

“Are you going to just let them bicker like this?” Trixie asked.

“I want to hear everyling’s thoughts before I make a judgement,” Cabbage said.“I’m honestly not sure yet whether it’s worth the risk of bringing more than the two of you with us.”

“About that,” Maggie said. “I’m worried about my family. The rock farm’s rather isolated, and this problem has developed so quickly, I doubt they’re even aware of the danger…”

“You want to try and warn them,” Cabbage said. Maggie gave her a guilty look, and Cabbage gave her a soft smile in response. “I understand,” Cabbage said. “Go ahead, go to them. They need you much more than we do.”

Maggie smiled gratefully. “Thank you for understanding, Cabbage,” she said. “Once this is over, I’ll be in touch.” She galloped away up the path back to the city.

“Do you have anypony you want to try and warn, Trixie?” Cabbage asked. “In Hoofington, maybe?”

Trixie shook her head. “Hoofington’s no backwater,” she said. “The news will get there faster than I could at this point. Or Tirek might get there first. Besides,” she nudged Cabbage’s shoulder and smirked, “somepony has to keep an eye on you and the rest of these bugs.”

“Thanks, I think?” Cabbage replied, giving the showmare a sideways look. She turned her attention to the Changelings and asked, “Has everyling had their say yet?”

“Mostly, My Queen,” Turnip answered. “Chrysalis hasn’t given her opinion yet. Come to think of it,” he added, looking over the gathered Changelings, “I haven’t heard anything from her in a while. Is she even here?”

“Don’t split your shell, Lorekeeper; I’m here,” Chrysalis said, emerging from deeper in the cave. She cast a condescending look over the group and said, “While you were all bickering pointlessly, I decided to go claim my space in our hidey hole here. If you must have my opinion though, I think that at the rate Tirek’s apparently going through ponies, we’d either just find ponies who have already been drained or get caught in whatever Discord’s next trap is.”

Turnip glanced over at Cabbage..“She makes a good point, much as it pains me to admit,” he said.

“Of course I do,” Chrysalis said. “Just because I’m no longer Queen doesn’t mean I’m unable to see the big picture. Now,” she said, turning about quickly and ignoring the snarky mental commentary from Turnip and others, “are going into hiding or not?”

“Right,” Cabbage said, leading the way into the mines.

For the Greater Good

Discord’s wasn’t the only betrayal that day…

Darkness. Darkness and cold. Something was wrong, but she couldn’t say what. It was hard to think, to… anything. She knew that she was, but… was what? Who? All was darkness and cold.

“Cabbage!”

Something in her stirred at the sensation, the sound, but it stilled before she knew.

“Please, Cabbage!”

Again, a sound. Again, a small stirring that stopped too quickly. Did she know that sound?

“I don’t think this is working.”

“Don’t stop.” A new sound, and another fleeting something inside. “So long as she keeps breathing…”

“She is, but it’s so faint.”

She longed for the sounds, tried to reach for them, but it was still too much or not enough.

“I can’t hear her heart, Turnip!”

“No… There must be something else… Ah! Forgive me, My Queen, but this is our last hope.” There was a sound of something cracking. The darkness and cold became warmth and-

Cabbage Patch gasped, filling her lungs with cold, dusty, wonderful air, and sat up. Turnip and Trixie both stepped away from her on reflex, and then returned and hugged her in obvious relief. Cabbage instinctively drew in the unicorn’s love until her hunger faded enough to permit her higher brain functions to exert control. “Oops,” she said, “sorry Trixie.”

Trixie hugged Cabbage a little tighter and then stepped back, saying, “Don’t apologize. When you come back from the dead like that, you’ve got every right to be famished.”

“Back from the…” Cabbage trailed off as she looked around, realizing for the first time that she was deep in the crystal mines beneath Canterlot, and that Trixie and Turnip were the only others around, and Cabbage was about their size instead of heads taller. “What happened?” she asked. “Where is everyling?” She looked at Trixie again and gasped. “Trixie! What happened to your coat!”

Trixie looked down at her legs which, like the rest of her azure coat, along with her mane and eyes, had become noticeably greyer. “You don’t remember?” Trixie asked.

“Temporary amnesia’s not unknown following trauma,” Turnip said. “After a near-death experience, I suspect it’s even more likely.”

“No, I don’t remember,” Cabbage said, getting a little testy. “I’m sure it’s not pleasant, but please jog my memory, Lorekeeper.”

“Ah… of course,” Turnip said, and brought his memory in contact with Cabbage’s mind.

“How far down are we going?” the Queen asks.

“Just a little more,” I reply.

“Actually,” a voice echoes from within a shadowed alcove, “you’ve come far enough.” Tirek emerges from the shadows, looking larger, younger, and infinitely more terrifying than the recent Lore said. Evidentially, absorbing magic improves his physical condition similar to how fresh love invigorates a Changeling, and he’s been feasting.

The Hive panics, naturally. Our efforts to escape have been in vain. Yet, one mind seems… less than concerned.

“Now, now,” Tirek says, an assuring tone in his voice made false by the rage burning inside him, “No need to worry, little insects, I’m not here for you. Your magic is worthless to me, fading even as I take it in.” Several Changelings, braver than the rest, cluster around Trixie in an attempt to hide her from Tirek’s sight, because it must be her he’s after, then. “Actually,” Tirek says, “I lie. There is one of you I’m interested in.” He reaches out toward the Queen.

“No!” Trixie yells, pushing through the Changelings screening her and throwing herself between Tirek and the Queen. “Leave her alone,” Trixie demands, “it’s me you want, my magic that led you here, isn’t it?”

Tirek sneers and snatches Trixie up. “Your sacrifice is admirable,” he says with little sincerity, and then inhales, drawing Trixie’s magic out of her and leaving her pale and listless. “However,” Tirek continues, dropping Trixie like a used napkin and reaching again for the Queen, “you’re just a bonus. This is the one I seek.”

Imago, Kumquat, Lemon Zest, myself, and others step to defend the Queen, blasting Tirek with the deadliest spells we know, but Tirek shrugs them off and brushes us aside with disdainful ease.

By the time I have regained my feet, Tirek has grabbed the Queen and started draining her, and I am driven to the ground again by her anguish.

The ordeal is mercifully short; Tirek does not linger over feeding from the Queen, and when he finishes he drops her and leaves without another word. He does, however, glance briefly at one of us. At her. They share a brief moment, and then Tirek is gone and she is already standing up.

“The Queen is dead,” Chrysalis says, smiling with triumph because she can’t possibly hide her true feelings from us behind a mask of grief, “long live the Queen.”

“I… refuse,” I say.

Chrysalis rolls her eyes. “Please, Lorekeeper,” she says, “as if there’s anyling else qualified. How fortunate that little Cabbage chose to keep me around, hm?
Else, where would the Hive be? Bereft of a Queen’s guiding mind and too few in number to hope a replacement can be bred before we tear ourselves apart with indecision or disagreement.”

Cabbage staggered under the weight of the memory. “Oh my gosh,” she said, “Trixie. Tirek got you. I’m so so-”

“Don’t apologize,” Trixie said. “I did what I thought I had to do.”

Cabbage opened her mouth to protest, but held her tongue at Trixie’s stoic look. “Thank you,” she said instead. “Thank you for staying with… wait.” She looked at Turnip. “How am I still alive, anyway?”

Turnip shrugged. “You are half-pony, my Queen,” he said. “It was the magic of your pony half that Tirek wanted, and I suspect it was your pony half that granted you the chance to hold onto life even as your lifeforce was pulled out of you.”

Cabbage looked over her shoulder at her cutie mark. What a bittersweet blessing you’ve turned out to be, she thought. “How long was I… out?” she asked, “and what of Queen Chrysalis?” When Turnip started to protest Cabbage’s use of the title, she glared at him and asked, “The Changelings are following her now, aren’t they?”

Turnip nodded, sullen.

Cabbage nodded as well. “Then, she’s Queen,” she said.“For now. Now, how long was I mostly dead?”

“Almost a full day,” Trixie said, “I think. I didn’t leave your side, giving you all the love I could muster to keep you from slipping away. We might have lost you anyway, if hadn’t been for Turnip breaking that crystal you got when Barnacle Salt retired.”

Cabbage blinked slowly in thought, and then remembered. “Oh!” she exclaimed, putting a hoof to her throat and finding only a string there. “That last bit of love Barnacle gave me,” she said. “Turnip turned it into a crystal as a memento. Emergency rations, I think you called it?” she glanced questioningly at Turnip.

“Yes,” Turnip said, looking away guiltily. “I hope you can forgive me for feeding it to you, My Queen.”

“Forgive you?” Cabbage exclaimed, then grabbed the Changeling in a hug. “You saved my life with that, you dimwit! You deserve thanks, not forgiveness!”
Turnip relaxed in her grip, and then stumbled when she unexpectedly let go a second later and started walking toward the entrance to the mine, saying, “Now, let’s go get my Hive back!”

“Say what?” Trixie asked, as startled as Turnip by the sudden shift in tone.

“You heard me, Trixie,” Cabbage said, her voice steely.

“Yes, but…” Trixie said, trotting to catch up with her, “but you’ve been trying to pass the Queenship back to Chrysalis since the day you became Queen, haven’t you?”

Cabbage glanced back at Trixie, a furious glint in her yellow eyes. “I was,” she said, “but on my terms, when I could be sure she’d stick to the new, non-predatory methods of collecting love. Trying to have me killed is not the kind of power transfer I had in mind.”

“Whoa, whoa,” Trixie said, galloping up and putting herself in Cabbage’s path, “what do you mean, ‘trying to have you killed’? Are you saying you think Chrysalis led Tirek to us?”

“It’s a reasonable conclusion,” Turnip said, catching up. “With Discord serving the entire kingdom up on platters, do you really think Tirek would’ve noticed that one unicorn and a half-pony Changeling had slipped away? How would he have even known Cabbage was half-pony in the first place? Someling told him, and there’s only one who would benefit from eliminating Cabbage but sparing the rest of the Hive.”

Trixie looked at the ground thoughtfully, and then looked back up at Cabbage and Turnip grimly. “Why, that little… insect,” she growled. “I oughta…” she trailed off, looking at her horn and remembering her magic was gone. “…oughta let you two deal with her,” she finished lamely, “but maybe let me get a kick or two in before you throw her off the mountain or whatever?”

“We’ll see, Trixie,” Cabbage said.

The walk from the mine up into Canterlot proper was exhausting for both the recently-revived Cabbage and the magically-drained Trixie, and while Turnip was content to move at a slower pace for their benefit, Cabbage forced herself not to rest until her legs started to give out just inside the city walls.

“Good grief, Cabbage Patch,” Trixie groaned as she caught up, leaning on Turnip for support, “slow down! I doubt Chrysalis will have gone far.”

“She hasn’t,” Turnip said. “I was able to touch the Hive Mind again halfway up.”

“So did I,” Cabbage said. “They’re still in the city.”

“All the more reason not to rush,” Trixie said. “I mean, you just woke up from a coma, and you’re probably starving in more ways than one.” Turnip nodded in agreement.

“There’s no time to worry about food,” Cabbage said, standing up. “I will get my Hive back.” She marched deeper into the city, following the mental signature of two dozen Changelings.

“She seems… different all of sudden,” Trixie said to Turnip. “Colder. I don’t like it.”

“I’m concerned as well,” Turnip said. “Maybe Tirek took more than just magic from her.” The Lorekeeper and the unicorn shared a look, and then stated following Cabbage together. The Changelings both kept their thoughts quiet so they could try and get a sense for what was happening with the rest of the Hive before revealing themselves, but as they got closer they realized the Hive was so full of distress and strife that masking their presence wasn’t going to be an issue.

“Now what has Chrysalis done?” Cabbage growled.

“I have a few suspicions,” Turnip responded as the trio rounded a corner and came upon a large mob of ponies marching toward the city gates. Every pony in the crowd had dull coats and wearied eyes, but they marched with a conviction and a gestalt of righteous fury that made Cabbage and Turnip intimidated even before a member of the mob glanced over and spotted them.

“Look!” the pony exclaimed, “There’s three more of them!” And before Turnip, Cabbage, or Trixie could react they were all swept up and being pushed roughly toward the center of the mob. At the heart of the mob were all the Changelings including Chrysalis, tied up in ropes and strung together in a chain with Chrysalis in the middle. The two Queens exchanged a look, but before either could speak, the crowd parted to let a tall, white unicorn stallion approach and regard the three newcomers.

“What’s this?” Prince Blueblood said with a wicked smile, “Seems you aren’t as dead as I was led to believe, Queen Cabbage Patch.”

“Blueblood,” Cabbage said coldly.“What’s the meaning of this?”

“What does it look like?” Blueblood said with a sneer. “We’re kicking you Changelings out of Canterlot; you’ve quite overstayed your welcome.”

“Now hold on,” Trixie protested, “Princess Luna-”

“Princess Luna is gone,” Blueblood snapped, “and so are the other Princesses. Tirek banished Celestia, Luna, and Cadance to Tartarus, and he’s gone to hunt down that upstart Twilight too.”

“And that puts you in charge, then?” Cabbage asked, narrowing her eyes skeptically.

“As head of the new Unicorn Council,” Blueblood said, “yes.” He pointed to Chrysalis and continued, “Now, Chrysalis there seemed to think she deserved to take control of Equestria by virtue of already being a Queen. When given the choice between her and my Council… well, you can see what the decision was.”

Cabbage’s hard glare slid from Blueblood to Chrysalis. Ingrate, Cabbage thought, and she reached into her meager store of emotional energy to generate magic for a spell. Just as her horn lit up, however, somepony struck her on the back of her head and she blacked out.

Cabbage woke up to the sound of Trixie ranting, “You can’t exile me! I’m not a Changeling; your oppressive dictate doesn’t apply to me!”

Cabbage opened her eyes and looked around. She and all the other Changelings were on the road just outside the main gates of Canterlot, which had been blockaded with a makeshift barricade of boxes. Apparently, the ponies couldn’t actually close the gate without magic, so they’d improvised. Blueblood and a few other ponies were peering over the barricade, and all except Blueblood at least had the decency to look ashamed as Trixie harangued them.

The alleged Prince, on the other hoof, simply returned Trixie’s anger with a hard look and said, “So long as you insist on sympathizing with enemies of the kingdom, you’ll be considered one as well.”

Trixie had a sharp retort to that declaration, but Cabbage tuned her out as she spotted Chrysalis. Getting to her hooves, Cabbage stormed over to the Queen and said, “You just couldn’t help yourself, could you?”

Chrysalis looked down at Cabbage – she still held the Hive’s acceptance and the Queenly stature that went with it – with defiance. “Do you realize, child,” she asked, “that we still have magic, while the ponies don’t? I could have forced the issue, put that entire mob into cocoons within minutes. And yet, here we are, outcast without a fight.”

Cabbage bared her fangs. “There are so many other ways you could have presented the Hive besides ‘hey, put us in charge now.’ Did you honestly expect those ponies to accept that when you’ve tried taking over the city twice before? Not to mention, although they wouldn’t know this, you tried to assassinate me!”

The Hive Mind exploded.

She what?

No, impossible. We would’ve noticed her plotting.

She is crazy enough to try…

“You made a deal with Tirek,” Cabbage accused Chrysalis. “You led him to the mines and revealed that I’m half-pony, offering me up to him so you would be the only possible Queen.”

“Ridiculous,” Chrysalis countered. “He just tracked Trixie’s and your magic.”

“The Lorekeepers saw differently,” Cabbage said. “Show them, Turnip.”

Turnip obliged, and the Hive Mind quieted as everyling watched his memory of the mines play out, with particular attention paid to Chrysalis’s reactions.

“W-well,” Chrysalis said, thinking fast, “sure, I wasn’t broken up about it, since my opportunity to reclaim my rightful place had come. That doesn’t prove I had anything to do with Tirek finding us, though; the memory’s tainted by Turnip’s disdain for me.We all know how he wishes you’d killed me after you took over.”

“You didn’t hesitate to declare Cabbage dead after Tirek was finished with her,” Turnip pointed out.

Chrysalis shrugged. “So, I was hasty. So what? The Hive needed a Queen. One who takes action.”

“It still had one,” Cabbage said. “You let your own selfish ambition guide you, and now look at us: driven out of Canterlot with none of the love we had stockpiled, our reputation for having reformed crushed in one fell swoop, and we hadn’t even started our theater’s first season! There’s not going to be any Changeling-produced Changeling of the Opera!”

Chrysalis rolled her eyes with an exasperated sound. “What is with you and that obnoxious play?” she asked. “Did you really believe it was going to change how ponies think about us, when it ends with the Changeling being rejected and chased away, just like we always have been?”

“Error isn’t chased away,” Cabbage argued. “He leaves of his own accord, knowing he’s misunderstood love but not yet sure how.”

“Sure,” Chrysalis said, sarcastic, “and the mob of ponies approaching his lair has nothing to do with it. Face it, Cabbage, this was inevitable. It’s the lot of the Changelings to always be hated and driven away by ponies, because prey cannot abide predators in their presence.”

“That’s not true!” Cabbage shouted. “We were starting to be accepted, slowly but surely.Princess Luna believed in us, Trixie and the troupe-”

“They all abandoned us,” Chrysalis cut in, “for one reason or another, they found excuses to get away.”

“I’m still here,” Trixie said, coming to stand next to Cabbage. “I brought Cabbage into my troupe out of simple compassion, and I’ve come to regard her as family. Even if our paths diverge in the future, my feelings for her won’t change. I’ll come to her aid whenever possible when she asks; I’m sure Barnacle Salt and Maggie Pie would say the same thing.”

The Hive buzzed with discussion, and while many mental voices were raised in agreement with Cabbage, others seemed to side with Chrysalis. Before the debate could really get going, however, Chrysalis shut it down with such strong mental pressure that several Changelings winced. Cabbage pushed back against the pressure, and then matched action to thought by throwing herself bodily at the larger Changeling, making Chrysalis stumble back a little.

“That’s enough,” Cabbage said, pointing her horn threateningly at Chrysalis. “I’d like my Hive back now.”

“Your Hive,” Chrysalis said mockingly. “I guess all that talk of eventually giving it back to me was just empty words after all. This power, it’s impossible to just let it go, isn’t it?”

“You’re unfit to rule,” Cabbage said. Chrysalis sneered, but her confidence began to falter as first Turnip and Lemon Zest went to stand by Cabbage, and then one by one so did Kumquat, Imago, and others until a full dozen had followed the example of the Hive’s two Lorekeepers. These Changelings asserted their selection of Cabbage as their Queen, and Cabbage quickly grew while Chrysalis’s stature decreased, leaving the two nearly eye-to-eye.

A couple of the Changelings who remained by Chrysalis began to waver, but before anypony could make another move, Chrysalis surrounded herself and her group in a circle of green fire. “Fine,” Chrysalis said as the flames grew higher, “then let it be war between us!” The green flames leapt, and Chrysalis and her Changelings vanished.

Silence reigned over the road outside Canterlot, as even the ponies who guarded the gate stared in shock at the spot where Chrysalis has once stood. So surprising was the turn of events, that nopony noticed the explosion of magical energy from the direction of the Everfree Forest until it washed over them and everypony felt their magic return.

“What was that?” one of the ponies with Blueblood asked.

“Somepony… Twilight Sparkle defeated Tirek,” Blueblood replied, ears lying flat. “The Princesses are probably going be leaving Tartarus soon…” He looked over at the Changelings, catching Cabbage’s eye, and started to say something, but Cabbage cut him off with a dismissive toss of her head.

“I don’t want your apology, Blueblood,” the Changeling Queen said. “You kicked us out when you had the power, so you have to stand by that choice. Come on everyling, we’ll have to find someplace else to live. Trixie, do you want to come along?”

Prologue: The Framing Device

Starlight Glimmer sighed as she fell back onto the soft reclining chair the spa attendant had led her to. “This is just what I needed,” she said.

An echoing sigh came from the chair behind her. “Tell me about it,” the chair’s occupant said.

Starlight felt her spirits lift at the thought that somepony could finally empathize with her. She decided to move with caution though, and test the other pony’s willingness to be a sounding board. “You ever have one of those days?” she asked.

“Lately, for me, they’re all one of those days,” the other pony said. Starlight giggled and relaxed into her chair a little more. Her companion spoke up again before she could decide how to proceed. “I might actually visit Ponyville more often, just for this place.”

There’s a good opening, Starlight thought. “I’m not from around here either. I’ve been trying to make friends, but it’s not easy. They’re not saying it, but I think everypony knows about my past. I may have been a tiny bit… completely and utterly evil?”

The other pony giggled. “Ponies have thought the same way about me, now and then.” Her voice turned hollow. “Especially now.”

“Finally, a pony I can relate to,” Starlight said. She plucked the cucumbers off her eyes and twisted in her seat to get a look at her companion. She couldn’t make out much thanks to the bathrobe, mud mask, and cucumbers, but she could tell the other pony was a unicorn mare with pale blue coloring. “My name’s Starlight Glimmer,” she said.

“Trixie Lulamoon,” the other pony responded. She held out a hoof blindly in Starlight’s general direction, and Starlight twisted further to shake it. “Starlight Glimmer,” Trixie said slowly. “Ah. You’re the pony with the village of no cutie marks, right?”

Starlight twisted back right-way around and sighed. “You heard about that.”

“Just the headlines, really,” Trixie said. “With me, all anypony can talk about is my connection to the new Changeling Queen. My performance group broke up and my shows just keep turning into fights between pro- and anti-Changeling factions.”

“I used a time travel spell to try and write Twilight Sparkle’s friendships out of history,” Starlight said.

Trixie plucked the cucumbers off her face and twisted around to look at Starlight. “Wow,” she said, “that is a story I have got to hear.”

“Really?” Starlight said.

“Yes,” Trixie said. “Tell you what: meet me in the steam room after we’re done with this. You tell me your story, and I’ll tell you the tragic tale of how Changeling Queen Patch nearly ruined both her life and mine.”

Starlight considered the offer, but only for a second. “Sure.”

Epilogue

“And that’s the story,” Trixie said.

Starlight Glimmer gave her new friend a sideways look. “That was a rough deal, I’ll admit,” she said, “but I don’t get how any of it was Cabbage’s fault. Seems to me she was more a victim of circumstances.”

“I suppose,” Trixie admitted, “but if she hadn’t brushed off Blueblood before he gathered his wits, maybe we could have put a better spin on there being two different Changeling Hives, with Chrysalis leading one of them. Maybe I wouldn’t have to work my tail off in every town trying to convince ponies that there are good ones out there.”

“Is that all you’ve been doing since?” Starlight asked, “Being an… ambassador for the Changelings?” Trixie nodded. “All by yourself?”

“Eh,” Trixie said, “Barnacle Salt’s staying put in Clydesport with his wife Rosie, but they’ve got most of that town thinking good of Cabbage’s group. The main reason I came here to Ponyville is to try and get back in touch with Maggie through her sister. I haven’t heard so much as a word from Harlequin since he ran out, and good riddance.”

“Hm,” Starlight said, nodding. “By the way, Twilight Sparkle assigned me to make a new friend on my own and bring them a dinner with her and Princess Celestia tonight…”

Trixie quirked an eyebrow. “Well,” she said, acting nonchalant, “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to ask Sparkle for an opinion…”