She should have ignored the changeling when she first saw him. She should have continued past the Everfree Forest without looking back. Yet, against her better judgment, she chose to stop.
Harvester, she thought. She looked at his wings—small, thick, almost decorative, still rich in blue pigment despite the tears. Curious, she took a step forward, then another, and a third. The faintest of aromas tickled her nostrils, telling her what she had already suspected—the changeling drone was dying. Exhaustion and starvation had crippled him to a husk.
I should leave him, she thought. He'll be gone in an hour. There's nothing I can do about it. And even if she could, there wasn't a single reason she should. Nothing would be gained from this, only trouble and—
"Can you hear me?" Her voice rang sharply against the back noise of the forest. You traitorous mouth! I should just get rid of you! And yet her mouth blubbered on. "Can you talk?"
Four clicks sounded—the bare minimum to prove the changeling had enough strength for conscious thought. The bare minimum necessary to convince her to help.
"Take a deep breath." She moved closer, and a bright pink aura surrounded her horn. A ray of light formed, slowly trickling into the changeling's horn. Suddenly, his entire body shook in a series of convulsions. Then, several long seconds later, he opened his eyes.
"Do you feel your limbs?" She limited the flow of the spell to a gentle trickle. "Can you see?"
The changeling nodded. His mouth opened in an attempt to speak, yet only whispers came out.
"Don't talk." She placed a hoof on his muzzle. "Give it some time." The magic flow intensified briefly, then abruptly stopped. That much magic would be enough. "It will take a while for it to start circulating through your system."
What's he even doing here? she wondered. There were no harvest cells so close to the forest—no pony settlements, not even an isolated cottage. He had to have gotten lost to end up at an inhospitable place such as this. Was that the only answer, though? He had several scars and bruises, concentrated on his left side. Nothing life threatening—mostly old scrapes from what she could tell—but for them not to have healed, the changeling must have been starving for over a week.
"Did they chase you here?" she asked. No answer. The changeling closed his eyes, turning away as if he couldn't hear her. "Were you hunted? Did someone hurt you?"
Silence. So stubborn. Always so stubborn. His behaviour was stupid, reckless, deprived of all reason, and yet that didn't dissuade her. She levitated a flask out from her saddlebag and moved it in his direction.
"Drink," she said, more an order than a request. "It's not much, but it'll speed things up."
Hesitation. Fear. Doubt. A whole bouquet of negativity streamed from him. He took the flask. Apparently, his thirst was greater than any of these concerns.
A single word slithered out of his lips: "Thanks."
"You're an idiot to go there," she said, retrieving her flask. "There's nothing but woodlings in the Everfree."
"I know," the changeling replied, in a tone that had accepted the inevitable. It was almost as if his self-preservation instincts had been completely erased. "You're a scout?"
"Infiltrator," she corrected. Most changelings got that wrong about her. "Part of a deep cover mission." A green flame enveloped her, replacing her pony appearance with that of a changeling. Her frame was slightly thinner, her body less muscular with not a single scar blemishing the almost shiny surface. Even her wings were perfect.
"Were you found out?" he asked. He didn't seem the least bit interested in the answer, though, rather maintaining the conversation out of a sense of loyalty.
"No." She helped him up. The love she had transferred should have started taking effect by now. "I'm Shelly." She rested the greater part of his weight on her side. "Do you think you can move? I don't want to be in the open after dark."
He nodded, stiffly stepping about. By no means was this the most efficient way to walk, but it would have to do; Shelly wouldn’t risk waiting for Timberwolves to appear. His forelimb over her shoulder, she soldiered on. There was supposed to be a cave a few hours’ walk away. She had originally planned to get there around noon; having to drag a wounded harvester, she'd be lucky to get there before dark.
"Woodlings won't attack," he said, as he limped along. "They're attracted by the warm-blooded, not us."
"Makes sense." Shelly tried to take on his full weight. Her legs wobbled, trying to bear the other changeling’s weight. Normally, it wouldn't be an issue; in her weakened state, however, it was torture. "Where d'you come from?"
"Ponyville," he replied, almost laughing. "There used to be ten harvesters there. Each of us was as fat as a newborn larva. Then things changed."
Things had changed everywhere. Less than a month ago, there had been plans to make a move against the Crystal Empire. Then war had broken out. For changelings, nothing had been the same ever since.
"What about you?" the changeling asked. "I was never that important, but I would have heard of an infiltrator..."
"The Crystal Empire," she replied, looking away. "I was stationed there for an year. I had to leave."
More was left unspoken. Shelly absolutely didn't want to go into that, not with a changeling she had just met. Best just to leave him with his suspicions. What was of importance now was reaching the cave.
The journey was short, yet intolerable. For the better part of a year, Shelly had been adjusting her body to compensate for the cold, so she had gotten used to the fresh imperial mornings and the chilly nights. Here, though, she could feel the sun burn into her back. Have you taken a personal interest in me, Princess Celestia? Shelly tried to laugh it off. Humour usually helped, yet even it couldn't compensate for the lack of love. Never in her life had she felt this hungry.
"It's not far," she lied. "Let's rest a bit." The changeling felt much heavier. It didn't help that his despair enveloped them both in a cloud of sweetish putrid stench, a cloud that choked her. "Just a few minutes, then we go on." How do you stand this? It's like trotting through marshland!
He didn't argue, removing his foreleg from her and slumping to the ground on the ground like a sack of potatoes. Why did I even bother with you? Shelly frowned, as she tried to find a shady place to lay down. All that love and water wasted.
"Thank you," the changeling said. The phrase caught her by surprise. There was emotion in those words—a breath of fresh air in this wretched heat.
"I know nothing about you," she said. It would feel nice to take her mind off things, at least for a moment. "Who are you? Why did you leave Ponyville?"
"I didn't," he sighed. "I escaped from the hive. When the war started, they pulled us out. Strategic reserves. Same as always. When I got there..." He stopped, the stench of shame and fear surrounding him again. "Why did you save me? You didn't have to."
"I don't know." Yes, why did I? "I guess I didn't want to leave you to be killed by the woodlings."
"I went there to die." The words hit Shelly like a crystal slab. "The woodlings weren't interested, though. I wasn't worth the effort."
There it was, the emotion that had been choking the both of them: heartvoid—an emptiness so absolute that it erased all memory of food or joy. It was rare, extremely rare, and it prompted Shelly to act. Without hesitation, she channeled what remaining love she had into her horn, blasting it at the changeling. No changeling should feel empty. Ever.
Stronger than before, the magic surge pushed the changeling several steps back. A bright pink aura surrounded him, sinking into his body, bringing back a healthy glow to his eyes. Seeing it, Shelly felt a moment of joy, even as it was drained out of her.
"Why?" His wings buzzed loudly, bringing him closer. Shelly tried to smile, but her cheeks hurt when she tried. The complete lack of love had left her cold and shivering despite the heat. "You're crazy." She couldn't agree more. Yet she didn't feel any regret. "Pierce. My name is Pierce. In Ponyville, they called me Percy."
"Must have been nice." Shelly curled up, in an attempt to stop her shivering. "Tell me."
"It was..." Hesitation shined through his emotions. "It was sweet and calm. Didn't have to work much to get food. Every week a liaison drone would come and take our harvest. Then the war broke out." Regret. Fear. Sadness. "The ponies didn't talk about it, but we heard whispers. The princess left, then the Elements, then a few others. The visits from the hive stopped as well. Then when finally someone came they told us all to pull out."
"I-is that why you ran?" Her teeth clattered. So cold. So alone. "You sh-sh-shouldn't h-have. The s-s-swarm—"
"No." His expression hardened. "That's not why. There is no swarm anymore." The changeling glanced at Shelly, and then at the ground in front of him. "Just a crater where the hive had been. Two dozen survivors, half of them starving." He closed his eyes. "The Queen is gone. It's everybug for themselves. That... that is something I didn't want to live with."
"No Queen..." Shelly's vision grew blurry. She had expected Celestia to act, but not so soon, not so mercilessly. Killed infiltrators, a crippled swarm, a destroyed hive—all this she was prepared to deal with. Yet lacking a queen...
"You're fading." Warmth enveloped her, bringing colour back to her world once more. The icy cold was gone, yet the pain remained. "Why did you come here?" Pierce dropped down, wings still.
"You gave me the love back," she whispered—grateful, yet at the same time confused. It was less than before, far less, but enough to make her feel alive. "You should have kept some." A pink aura started to envelop her horn. "Here, let me—"
"Stop," he demanded, cutting her off. "You'll die if you give me more. I felt your hunger. You're as starving as I am. There isn't enough love for both of us to survive. I'm ready to go."
"We can share," Shelly offered. Her horn was still glowing.
"No!" he said adamantly, placing his hoof on her horn.
Shelly didn't listen. Concentrating, she sent all of her life source back to him. The cold grabbed her in its merciless clutches, yet this time she was prepared.
"You're wrong." She closed her eyes. "There isn't enough for any of us to survive. If we share we could possibly last till morning, but not more. I was hoping to reach the hive. If it's gone, there's no point." She took a deep breath. "Better spend a few moments alive."
Shelly tried to stand up. Pain shot through her hooves like spears of ice, lodging their tips into her spine. Midway through, she simply gave up. What's the point? "I was supposed to prepare for a colony in the Empire. There were thirty of us until the war."
"This is no war." Pierce sighed heavily. "It's an extermination. I met a scout from Manehattan. The entire city had been purged. He was the only one who managed to get out. The ponies had organized hunts."
"What happened to him?"
"Went for gryphon territory. Said he'd heard things were picking up there. You have any more water?" He glanced at her saddlebag. Shelly could feel he was lying.
"Half a flask." She smiled weakly. "Take the saddlebag and sit down next to me." Even with all that love you're still exhausted.
His actions were slow and sloppy, as one would expect. Afraid to use magic, he resorted to hooves to open the saddle bag. He took a bit longer than necessary to dig around inside, but he at least had the decency to only take the water flask. Shelly couldn't help but wonder what he was looking for. Weapons? Solid food? Pony bits?
"It's worse in the clouds," Pierce continued, after he had taken a long swig of water. "The pegasi caught them before the bugs knew what was going on. All a hundred and twenty of them, and they never stood a chance. Do you think that's what started the war?"
"Not sure." Shelly measured her words carefully. She didn't want him to suspect that in truth, that wasn't where the war started, not even close. "Did you try the coastal cities? Maybe it hasn't reached there yet?"
"Don't know." He took another gulp, then placed the flask in front of Shelly. "You're the second survivor I've seen after I ran from the hive." That meant a resounding no. "How did it all start?" Shelly could feel rage mixed with sorrow. "Things were calm. Ponies had stopped caring. One of my friends was even considering revealing his identity. Then, suddenly..."
"Everything changed," Shelly finished for him. Her mouth continued moving but the sounds were all garbled. She was fading away again. It was so tempting to close her eyes and forget everything. At least this way it would be like vanishing into a dream. A wave of magic jolted through her, bringing sensation back to her limbs.
"Tell me about the Empire," Pierce asked. Shelly could feel his body next to hers, quickly losing warmth. "Is it true that love flows through the streets?"
"No." Shelly attempted a laugh. "But it's a nice place. Nicer than Canterlot. You can feel it in the air; every pony is so full of joy, thankful just for being." And that's why they changed. The threat of losing what they had was just too great. "I remember the amount of joy that was during the birth of the new princess. Words cannot describe it."
"Sounds nice." Percy pressed against Shelly, seeking warmth. "You think they are still there?" He asked. "Maybe the change didn't affect them? It's all the way north, so..." His voice trailed off.
"Who knows?" Would there be any gain in telling him? Would it matter at this point? "No, they aren't," she finished, answering her own question. No more lies. "The war started there. If any of us stayed in the Empire, they're dead. Everyone in Canterlot is too, I suppose."
"Murdered?" The word summed it all up—not caught or captured, not even killed while fighting. Shelly nodded. They had been exterminated. "Why?"
Shelly could feel him getting cold as ice. If she didn't want him to drift away, she had to act now. The idea of returning to the icy cold repulsed her; she wanted to enjoy the warm embrace a bit more. Just a few minutes. Even thirty seconds would be enough…
No. The warmth left her body, directed toward Pierce. Soon, Shelly would be the one seeking heat from him.
"It feels... less," he managed to say, barely stirring.
"You lose some each time." And that was the last.
"You haven't been eating either, have you?" He tried to laugh. The sounds came out muffled, dry, humourless. "You're just as messed up as I am. How long?" Shelly didn't answer. "How long?" Pierce repeated the question.
"Since the start of the war," she said at last. At this point it hardly mattered. There wasn't anyone left to prove anything to. "I was full when I left, always careful not to use up too much. I didn't pass through any towns, avoided the main roads... for the most part I didn't meet anyone."
"That was stupid..."
"It wasn't!" she attempted to shout, but her weakened state made it sound like a whisper. "I started the war." The words were calm, dripping with the agony of regret. "The Queen ordered and so..." Her chest was hurting, and her lungs could barely drive the words out. "The thing that caused the change—the single most despicable act that caused the ponies to exterminate our hive, our race... I caused it." She felt like ice again. Her life had drained out far faster than before. It wasn't only the lack of food; there simply was no future left for changelings. "I killed a newborn baby alicorn."
Neither said a word. Shelly could feel the horror streaming from Pierce. The same horror she had experienced a month ago.
"I was supposed to replace the baby with a larva," she whispered after a while. "A harmless procedure I had done thousands of times. Just transfer enough magic from one to the other. I never expected the spells on her to be so strong. When I drained her magic, I ended her life. A giggle followed by a final gasp.” The words stuck in her throat. “A princess died that day. The first baby alicorn, and she died because of me..."
I caused the extermination of my own race. Maybe if I had stayed, if I had explained, maybe I'd be the only one to die. Instead, I had run...
"Do you think we are the last ones?" she asked, pressing against Pierce. Her body had grown so numb that it couldn't even feel warmth. "Do you think any made it beyond Equestria?"
Silence.
"Pierce?" Exerting what little strength she had left, she turned her head to take a look. He was just lying there, ironic smile plastered across his face. His eyes were dim and lifeless. "No! Don't you dare die before me!" She tried to scream, to hit him, but her body no longer had the strength to obey her. "I gave you all the love… you should have been alive for hours." A cloud of despair surrounded her, the only emotion she could produce. “A few more minutes. I don't… I don't want to be the last one...”
The wind grew louder, as if mocking her. Shelly relaxed her head on the ground. Her vision had started to fade; soon, the colors would be gone, replaced by utter darkness.
Heartvoid, Shelly thought. The state of emptiness in which you no longer care. It's rare—very rare—yet not rare enough...
