Everything begins with a Mistake
Hidden in the shadows of the attic, I looked down upon the mother and child ponies playing in the room below. To be honest, I have to say that the antics of these ponies always did puzzle me. From my current intelligence about the pony race, it was to my knowledge that ponies are known herbivores. Yet, apparently, this pony mother was teaching her child how to hunt in the exact same way I had seen griffons instruct their hatchlings. In this case, however, instead of using a live animal or even a makeshift doll, the mother was using a ball and constantly throwing it at her foal, who caught it and wrangled said object the same way I saw the hatchlings did.
This was extremely fascinating. To think that ponies have predatory instincts!
I then caught a sweet waft in the air. It was so tempting, so... aromatic. Yet despite my urges, I kept myself hidden, my training as an infiltrator and gatherer kicking in. I will not compromise the mission at hand at the urges of my stomach. I hoped that the mother will leave soon. I could hardly wait to complete the task at hand so that I could return to the hive and receive my rations. I was running on my reserves already.
My already meager reserves.
As though my prayers have been answered, I heard a faint whistle in the neighboring room. The frequency in which the sound waves ran identified to me that it was most likely the teapots older metallic cousin, called the kettle.
Ponies really are foolish. For all their ingenious creations, most of which fascinate me to no end, they actually have different names for objects that seem so similar in usage. Pots, teapots, kettles... why don't they all just call them pots? Silly ponies.
I watched the mother drop the ball and leave the room in a hurry, making faces of what could only be a horrific monster as she left. From what I can tell, the baby will most certainly be a fearless warrior one day, the way she gargled and laughed at those faces. Nevertheless, I waited until the coast was clear, and activated my magic. Though we changelings often burst in a flash of green flames when we transform, we infiltrators can easily make our transformation much more subtly and quickly.
Satisfied that I look every inch as the mother that just left, I jumped down from the ceiling. I have only a minute and a few seconds to act. Hence, I will need to do this quickly, and quietly.
The baby had watched my descent quietly. Has she seen me? I hesitated, before bursting out into a smile.
She laughed.
Too easy.
The sweet aroma drifted over to me. It was tempting, to say the least. Almost too tempting. Yet, I will resist. The hive comes first. Always. Moving quietly, I quickly opened my mouth and begin to store the love wafting off the baby. Sweet innocent love, one of my personal favorites. By far better than the hot sticky one I had to absorb from underneath the bed of two ponies that time.
Like I said, ponies are weird.
Hoofsteps register in my ears, that probably meant that the mother have most certainly managed to silence the object known as the kettle. As it was apparent that I only had seconds left to act, I quickly stopped siphoning off the child and bit her lightly on the neck, injecting her with a light venom that will render her unconscious for roughly six pony hours.
Another job well done. I smiled as I felt the transformation magic waft over me again. All of this I had done in a matter of four seconds, and the mother has not returned yet. Buzzing as only a fly could, I flew out of the window, small and unnoticed.
A dead changeling was one that had been seen, after all.
It took me awhile, but I finally reached the outskirts of the village. To a changeling, the dangers of a forest are but a passing problem, for a fly however, the matter was totally different. Take flytrapper plants, for example. Just the thought of being eaten alive as a fly was more than enough for me to revert to my original form.
My stomach gave another grumble. It was a sign that I should return home soon. However, I should probably 'feed' first.
Moving to a nearby tree, I sank my fangs into its trunk and drank deeply of the sap within. When my thirst was quenched, I tore off part of the bark and quickly grounded it into dust that was much more easier to swallow. While we Changelings prefer to feed off the love of other creatures, it does not mean that we cannot feed off material sustenance. I briefly recalled the story of why we Changelings were so few nowadays.
The thought of us behaving like savage locusts or parasprites was enough to make me shudder. I was inwardly grateful that the ancient goddess cursed us to be only feel fed by love. Otherwise, I may not have those fascinating ponies left to study.
I did not feel fed, but I could feel the energy revitalizing my limbs. Unfortunately, I realized that I will need more energy than what I have to return home. It appears that 'feed' more.
Moving to another tree, I sank my fangs into it and began to suck. I could feel the energy filling my limbs. Sure, I still hunger, but I have no doubt that I will be fed once I—
WHAM!
The world went spinning around me, but training kicked in and I righted my sense of balance and cast off the dizziness with a simple swing of my head. My flank hurts, and my eyes was filled with the image of a red pony, a colt by the looks of it.
"Get off mah barn!" He bellowed, "and leave our trees alone!"
It comes to no doubt that he was the one who was responsible for my pain. However, my mind was preoccupied by another much more important thought at the moment.
I had been seen.
Quickly, I cast a spell, one that allows me to detect lifeforms. There were only four others in the current vicinity, and they seem to all be residing in a wooden structure not far from here. It appears that the colt was alone.
I quickly weighed my options. Killing him is out of the question, from what I understood of ponies, they possess tracking magic unlike any other, and though I cannot feel any magic signature from him, if they indeed possess any such powers, I will be dooming my hive to its inevitable revelation. Running away was also out of the question too, for the child could babble about my presence to the first outsider he sees.
Looks like I would have to take him out and permanently erase his memories of my presence.
Hissing, I launched myself at the colt. While I was no personal bodyguard of my queen, I was still a trained infiltrator that could and should easily take out a guard in the service of the pony princesses. Hence, I was surprised when the young colt turned around and struck back at me with his hindlegs. His audacity surprised me, the speed at which he retaliated caught me off guard.
The force behind it surprised me further as I was sent tumbling away.
Winded, I quickly tried to reorganize my thoughts, what came next, however, what came next surprised me further. Pain blossomed in my back as I felt something pulling at my wings. Quickly I rose and tried to loose whatever was causing me that excruciating pain. I felt a grunt beside me, but I paid it no mind for I was more focused on getting rid of the pressure on my wings.
I got my wish faster than my thought. With one final blossom of pain, the pressure lifted from my back. The pain sharpened my mind, and I was amazed by how much clearer my thought process was. Regardless, I had a job to do. I spun around, and quickly dove at the young colt. This time, he did not retaliate, rather, he was staring wide-eyed at something on the ground. Too late he noticed that I had already clamped my jaws around his neck. He struggled at first but all that did was made me clamp down harder as I injected a combination of two serums into his system, one for knocking him out, the other for wiping his memories.
It did not take long for his movements to dull. Before long, he could be mistaken for a dead pony, if not for the rise and dip of his chest. Elated, I spread my wings to escape from the scene.
Except, I could not. Or rather, I could not feel my wings...
"Were you seen?"
"Yes, but I erased the memories of my assailant. He will not remember what happened." I reported.
It had taken me one week, one full week to return to my hive. While normally I would be distressed by the time I had taken to return, I was secretly glad for the time I had needed to return back to the hive. That one week had been immensely helpful. It helped me got over the loss of my wings and put my thoughts back in order. After all, I did not lose my horn, though unlike the loss of my wings, those can be grown back in time.
Nevertheless, with my horn still intact, I can still easily go undercover. As such, I was of the utmost confidence that I will be returned to duty as soon as I received my rations. I was an infiltrator, and I must do my job for the hive. I had missed the countless voices that reverberate through my mind, to be honest, I could not wait for the moment I end my report and add my voice to them, to share what I had learned.
"Very well, Needle." The Changeling before me, Vent, seemed to sigh. She was my direct superior, the Advisor of Secrets and daughter of the Queen. It had been most unfortunate that none of our Queen's offspring were to be the heir, but her current sons and daughters had been extremely effective in managing the workload of the hive.
I really look up to her.
"While your yield this time is certainly impressive but..." She sighed again.
I cocked my head. While I know many things, I was sure that Lady Vent was not prone showing her emotions so easily. Unless...
"Did something happen to the Queen, my lady?"
"Huh?" her eyes lit up as she registered what I said and I felt a tremendous surge of relief at what she said next. "Oh no! I mean... No! She's fine." She smiled and then I could feel her eyes hardened, as though she had made up her mind about something. "Say, I heard you are interested in the outside world?"
What? What has that got to do with anything? Nevertheless, she asked a question, and I should answer honestly.
"Yes, my lady."
"Very well, follow me."
We left the room and Vent led me through a series of corridors that I had never set my hoof in before. The fact that there was an increase in the number of guards did not escape me. As such, I began to have my suspicions.
It was only a few minutes later that I found my suspicions confirmed.
"So why did you bring him here? He is unfit."
I tried my best to blend into the background, not that there was much to blend into as my lady, Vent argued with power incarnate. I could not believe the scene before me. Vent was arguing with the Master of the Hive? She of a thousand Faces? The protector of our home, Queen Chrysalis herself?
To be honest, I was half expecting Vent to be blasted into oblivion at any time.
"I am only asking this much of you, mother."
"Why? Deal with him as you would the rest."
"Unlike the others, he had served me, and by extension, you and the hive well."
"Huh. It seems you have high regards of him. Very well, with one less mouth, what you ask for is not much."
"It is called mercy, mother."
"I know, my child. I taught you that." It was at this moment when power incarnate turned her eyes upon me. I could feel the raw power beneath her gaze through the link I shared with her. It has been very noticeable when I entered the hive, now, with her before me, it felt as though an entire mountain was pressing down upon me. Swiftly, I went down onto my knees, head bent. To gaze into the eyes of power herself was to tempt death.
"You are Needle, am I correct?"
"Yes." I replied, not daring to raise my head.
"It is to my knowledge that you have lost your wings, am I right?"
"Yes."
"And that you wish to visit the outside world?"
I hesitated for a moment. Somehow, I had a feeling that something was about to go terribly wrong whether I told the truth or not. It was a gut feeling, purely instinctual. Yet, my loyalty compelled me to reply truthfully. And so I did.
"Yes."
As soon as the word left me, I felt a powerful force telling me to raise my head. I could not deny it, but when I did, I screamed as my eyes met hers, as my horn touched hers. The thousands of voices in my mind, the comforting buzz of speech within the connection, all of it was gone in an instant. The shock of it was worse than losing my wings. It was terrifying. Slumping almost lifelessly to the ground, there was only one voice that spoke out before the darkness took me.
"I am sorry." Vent whispered.
Then she too, was silent.
