The rapid clicking sound of chitin hooves on mana-infused basalt heralded the changeling's impending arrival. Judging by the speed of the clattering noise, the drone was approaching the throne chamber at full-tilt. Queen Puparia stewed in her hatred as she waited, leaning awkwardly against one side of the ancient throne in which she reclined.
The anti-magic properties of the throne blocked everything but changeling magic, and as Queen of the changelings, Puparia commanded a large and powerful army skilled in flight, magic, and hoof-to-hoof combat. Invaders in the Changeling Kingdom were simply unheard-of. Whatever the news was, it was unlikely to be a real emergency.
The Queen secretly hoped the drone would be on fire, but such anticipation was unrealistically optimistic. Once again, this is assuredly something stupid, thought Queen Puparia. She idly circled one of the holes in her left foreleg with the tip of her other hoof as the changeling finally galloped into the throne room. Audaciously, not only was the little shit not on fire, he didn't appear to be injured at all.
"My Queen!" hissed the drone, skidding to a halt in front of the throne. Puparia looked contemptuously down at the little bughorse, scowling and baring her fangs. She could see a tiny grub clinging to his back. The two-legged larva had a queer upside-down frown spread across its muzzle. This odd expression irritated the Queen immensely. Normal drones only made that face when doing something unspeakably foul. On a grub, that un-frown look was usually a sign it was defective. This led to even more incompetence than she was normally forced to tolerate.
Queen Puparia snorted. "This had better be good, drone," she said. Her eyes narrowed as she glowered down at her expendable servant. The drone's knees trembled and his tube-like ears lay flat against his jet-black carapace.
The drone took in an empty gulp of air before speaking. "I come from the nursery, my Queen," he said.
Puparia rolled her eyes. "I can see that, idiot! What in blazes is a newly-hatched larva doing in my throne room?"
"It, it's a..." he stammered, wincing.
Just then, the larva blinked its miniscule eyes open. In place of the solid baby-blue hue of a typical drone's sclera, this grub had actual irises. Striking green ones, at that.
"Yet another thawed female, ready to pupate," she growled, gritting her teeth. "Blast it! It's so bucking inconvenient that suspended incubation doesn't last longer. I froze this one less than three years ago, and already the vile parasite has returned to taunt me!"
"Yes, my Queen, I hate that too," said the drone, who had no legitimate reason to feel that way.
The Queen lunged her neck forward, nearly causing the reluctant messenger to trip over his own clumsy hooves. "Well? Then kill it already! How many times must I give these orders to you stupid foals before you will finally obey?"
"But, w-we can't kill a princess," said the cowering drone. He attempted to tug it off of his back, but every time one leg almost became dislodged the other one would deftly reattach.
The Queen sighed and shook her head. "Ugh. Even the simplest commands carry no weight when it comes to one of these precious, mewling females," she growled. "How delightful. My day must be interrupted so I can perform a mundane chore that anybuggy else could have accomplished with a simple, well-placed kick."
Her magic aura surrounded the infant, yanking it free from the drone's back and up into the air. The grub made atrocious, high-pitched bubbly sounds from its mouth as it spinned around and buzzed its wings. At the very least, the thing could have a respectable hiss, thought Puparia. Fortunately, its repulsiveness made the task at hoof easier. She reached out to the tiny thing, and...
"Wait!" shouted the drone, guarding his cranial plate with his forehooves in advance.
"WHAT?" screamed the Queen.
"It's the only one left!" he whined.
Queen Puparia bellowed loudly with rage as the little drone chittered in fear. The tiny grub levitating in front of her continued to make disgustingly pleasant sounds. It un-frowned even wider as it clopped the tips of its two tiny legs together.
After her royal scream of anger stopped echoing throughout the entire Hive, the Queen cleared her throat and spoke. "You are certain of this?" she said.
The drone nodded vigorously, his eyes clenched tightly shut.
"Bloody Tartarus," spat the Queen, covering her face with a hoof. "I won't have another clutch in me for months!" Puparia wanted to smash the infant abomination into a sticky pulp right then and there, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. There must always be a backup female. It was for the good of the Hive. The repression was ingrained into her very genetics, the same genetics that prevented her drones from harming a female grub even when ordered to.
She sighed dejectedly. "Now I suppose I have to name this... this ugly thing," she grumbled aloud as she settled the squirming creature down onto her lap. Briefly, she pondered naming it something nasty, like 'Garbage' or 'Failure', but the drones would look up to it no matter what it was called. Encouraging drones to act any more idiotic than they already did was not an option. If it were to survive for even a short time, it would need to be not only a proper changeling, but a role model.
Temporarily, of course. After laying the next royal egg, she'd murder the urchin in front of everybuggy in the Hive, just to watch them quiver in fear. Queen Puparia was a good mother, after all. A good mother rarely needs to punish or slaughter her offspring. Drones who lived in fear were drones who obeyed orders, and killing a princess sent a very strong message.
Still, it needed a name.
"Princess Chrysalis," she hissed. It had a certain hollow ring to it, thought the Queen. While a chrysalis might be a beautiful thing, it could be crushed with the lightest touch. It was weak, and helpless. It was a threat to nobuggy. She liked that.
Puparia waved the drone away, and the little bug skittered out even faster than he'd entered.
Princess Chrysalis un-frowned up at Mother and wiggled playfully. This simply would not do, realized the Queen. Her children needed to be tough, lest they starve to death. A weak changeling was a useless changeling, and nothing was weaker than the mouthwatering-yet-repugnant emotion of love.
A quick hoof-smack to the face changed little Chrysalis's tune. She didn't hit it hard enough to injure it, but it was more than enough to give the infant a proper frown. Why did Mother hit it? Even to a baby changeling, it didn't feel right. The little grub started to cry, and it was the Queen's turn to un-frown.
"You need a thicker shell, little one, even before you pupate," said the Queen. "Chitin may be a hard exterior, but hatred and mistrust are harder than diamond." The bawling infant didn't understand her words, but its crying abated when something gentle and soft began to fill its core.
Queen Puparia had scoured the recesses of her withered heart for a repulsive mote of love with which to feed the babe. She held Chrysalis close in her legs. "You shall have enough of my love to keep you from starving to death, and not a drop more," she whispered, as the little one began to fall asleep.
It was exceptionally difficult to nurse a larva on love without overfeeding it, the Queen already knew. Suppressing the flow of affection down to the tiniest trickle required precise tuning. Her feelings needed to walk a delicate line between 'bored indifference' and 'duty-bound tolerance'.
It was a challenge, even for a changeling queen. Fortunately, Puparia had many decades of practice beneath her iridescent banding.
"You called for me, Mother," said Princess Chrysalis, walking into the throne room. The Queen was idly looking out the window at the Southern swarm as they ran practice drills.
Queen Puparia turned her head toward the pest she'd summoned and narrowed her eyes. "Yes. Today is a special day, Daughter," she said, relishing the word with unnatural pleasure. "I intend to call audience in the grand pit today, and you are to join me." The Queen walked slowly up to her child.
At twelve years of age, the little princess was scarcely half the size of her adult mother. She frowned and took a few steps back. "I already know what you plan to do," she said, a muted look of anger twisting the corners of her muzzle. "You aren't going to get away with it."
Puparia unleashed a screeching cackle that sounded like hooves on a chalkboard. "Not get away with it? Oh, that is delightfully rich!" she said, circling the princess as she spoke. "What are you going to do, run away?"
"So what if I did?" asked Chrysalis.
The Queen sneered. "You can't get away, you foal! My drones may not be able to harm you, but they'll return you to the Hive and lock you up. All I have to do is tell them it's for your own good," she said. "At least have the courage to face your mother in the pit in front of everybuggy. Show some spine for the first time in your useless life, right before I snap it in two."
The anger suddenly faded from the princess's face, only to be replaced by a coy smirk. "Well, then I guess it's lucky for me that there won't be a show at all."
Queen Puparia leaned her neck back in shock. This little weakling... she couldn't have. Could she? "What have you done, you wretched BRAT?" she demanded, fuming with every breath.
"Oh, nothing much... just convinced the guards that your order to bar me from the nursery was a simple mistake," she said, as her smirk grew into a full un-frown. "The moment I heard you'd ordered our drones to confine me to the central Hive, I knew you'd managed to place a new female into stasis. So, I killed her." Chrysalis shrugged, as though royal fratricide were nothing but a mundane chore. "I did exactly what you would have done in my place."
The Queen's eyes widened in disbelief. Up until now, this dismal excuse for a changeling princess had managed to survive on luck alone. Although Puparia's fecundity had slowly been decreasing over the years, she still laid royal eggs on rare occasion. However, royal eggs were much larger than drone eggs. This made them difficult to form properly, and on her last few attempts the shells had been too weak. Until last month's clutch, every potential female had failed to hatch. The new infant fillybug who emerged three days ago had been the success the Queen was waiting for. It would have allowed Puparia to finally purge from her brood this flimsy, deviant waste of chitin which now stood before her.
But to kill an incubating infant? Queen Puparia was astonished. She didn't think her failure of a daughter could have the guts to kill her baby sister, even if it were just a helpless grub. Puparia felt something very strange inside, something like... respect? She recoiled from the feeling, brushing it aside. Respect was an unhealthy lapse of sanity, and it sure as Tartarus wasn't what little Chrysalis deserved.
"You are still a miserable weakling," hissed the Queen. "That larva you destroyed would have been twice the princess you are! To this day you continue to sprinkle your repugnant love on MY drones when they aren't even starving! You make me sick. I'm starting to realize just how much you take after those dreadfully affectionate magic ponies and their... friendship." Puparia said the last word as though she were vomiting it, and she shuddered visibly.
"NO! I do no such thing!" said Chrysalis, with a loud stomp of her hoof. The smug expression on her face had been replaced with a much more entertaining grimace.
"Coddling soldiers may make you popular, dear child, but your filthy generosity infects everybuggy it touches. You are completely incapable of sacrifice. A true queen knows her drones are expendable, and she will act on that knowledge without hesitation," said Puparia, pronouncing each word in a crisp, clear staccato. "Were you to succeed me—which, thankfully, you NEVER shall—every changeling in the entire Hive would be dead in less than a year."
"That's not true at all! I am strong... I... I killed her," whined Chrysalis. "I did exactly what you would have done! I thought baring my fangs would finally make you... p-proud of me..."
Queen Puparia looked into the eyes of her little filly and saw the moisture beginning to form. The child was still so soft... so pathetic. Murder was easy compared to the demands which fell upon the withers of a queen. If her daughter couldn't handle a little rejection, how could she command an army? It was preposterous. Puparia allowed the loathing to swell within her chest as she took deep, angry breaths.
"Well?" shouted the princess.
"NEVER!" screamed the Queen. "Pride? Are you actually serious? Even the idea you would desire me to feel something so horrid fills me with revulsion! You aren't even worthy of a drone's respect. You are worthless trash, little Chrysalis, and you shall never measure up to me, you... you feeble-minded worm!"
Princess Chrysalis gnashed her fangs and held back tears with all her might. Her mother could see the pain welling within, strengthening her from the inside. Hardening her carapace. Yes, very good. Let it burn within you like the fires of a forge, scarring your heart and your soul, thought Queen Puparia. Learn the ache of impossible desire, and let the righteousness of malice and the thirst for revenge swell within your hollow shell. Be a changeling for the first time in your pointless existence.
As her daughter turned and walked slowly out of the room, Puparia couldn't help but un-frown, herself. She'd fully expected the deadbeat to gallop away in misery, but little Chrysalis had managed to exit with a small amount of her dignity still intact. When the time would finally come, killing her daughter might even be a modest challenge, she realized. That would only make her inevitable death all the sweeter.
"They haven't followed us, my Queen," said one of the scouts who set her down. A young drone applied soothing cocooning gel to Puparia's wounds as the scout continued to update his liege on the tactical situation. "The ponies are too cautious to attack the Hive, even though we have suffered great losses."
Queen Puparia slowly lifted her body up from the floor of the pit where her drones had laid her. Her thorax and abdomen ached from the minor wounds she'd sustained. Worst of all, her horn had been snapped in two. It would be months before she'd be able to cast with it again.
As the Queen tried to stand fully upright, Princess Chrysalis slammed into the ground just in front of her, landing hard on all fours. Her posture was menacing, and she scowled down at her mother. "You have failed us, Mother," said Chrysalis, baring her fangs. The princess was nearly as large as the Queen, and she had been practicing her intimidation skills for many years... all for this one, crowning moment.
Looking around her, Puparia could see the pit littered with injured drones, as they continued to be retrieved from the field. The injured were being tended to by the juveniles who had remained behind to guard the Hive. The attack on Canterlot had ended in a devastating defeat—to put it mildly.
Puparia put on a brave face. "You dare blame your own failures on your Queen?" she accused, and followed up with a bout of coughing. She had attempted to yell the words, but the strength was not within her. She was at her very weakest, at the exact moment when any wise adversary would choose to strike her down. This explained the long shadow the Queen's heir currently cast across her broken husk of a body.
"It was your fault alone!" growled Chrysalis. "Princess Celestia would not have been able to use the Elements against us had you not collapsed at her hooves in combat, like an immature grub. You had but a single enemy upon you, and you could not even defeat her!"
"You don't understand. That wretched Celestia is too powerful for any of us!" gasped Puparia.
"Oh, please! Even her magic was tainted by love. How could she possibly be that strong?" The disappointment was practically etched onto her face. Chrysalis was barely an adult, but her battle-hardened stare spoke vividly to the depth of her resilience.
"It... it must be some kind of witchcraft far beyond our ken," said the Queen, wincing. She knew it sounded like a pathetic excuse, because that's exactly what it was.
"We should have infiltrated the city first, and used deception to siphon her love away—just as I had originally proposed. I should end you, right here, right now," said Chrysalis, her horn lighting up with the power of pure malevolence.
Queen Puparia looked up into her daughter's glaring eyes and could see the bluff for what it was. The young leader was still hesitant. She didn't even have the nerve to kill her own mother, and it wasn't because she was afraid of the consequences. Not much of the cancer remained, but Puparia could still sense the fatal flaw of compassion lurking within her daughter's miserable heart.
After an uncomfortable silence, the Queen suddenly lunged at her brood, punching her jaw hard with a rear hoof. Everybuggy backed away from the display as mother wrestled daughter, but it didn't last long. Princess Chrysalis had the advantage of youth on her side, and she hadn't been wounded as heavily as her mother.
As the Princess pinned all four of her mother's legs to the floor of the arena like a specimen in an insect collection, she reached out and gripped Puparia's throat tightly with her magic. The grip was strong enough to make breathing a challenge, but weak enough to allow the impotent Queen to speak.
"In case it isn't obvious, I'm taking over, Mother. Today, there is a new Queen," said Chrysalis, her muzzle quivering with anger. "You are no longer of any use to me, and you are a burden to the Hive. Now, is this really how you want it to end? If you beg me for mercy, I might let you live. That way, you can grow old among us, reminded daily of how stupid and worthless you are."
Freed from the burden of hope, Queen Puparia stopped fighting altogether. She looked up to her daughter one final time, into the eyes of the bug she'd carefully crafted to be a strong leader. She was tempted to accept the humiliation and survive. Even if she were no longer the Queen, her daughter's drones would still treat her like one.
However, the temptation was weak. Despite all the Queen's best efforts, she could still see a spoiled child hiding behind those eyes. Still fragile. Still soft. Still drunk on sympathy and desire. This weakling would undoubtedly make a horrible queen. The Hive deserved better than a pitiful path to oblivion. And maybe, just maybe, this defiant little botched abortion deserved something more herself.
The Queen steeled her nerves and willed her blood to ice. She carefully suppressed every emotion but the virtuous ones. As she stared up into her daughter's beautiful green eyes, Queen Puparia's gaze suddenly widened sharply, the look on her face brimming with rage, disgust, and contempt. But most of all, the icy stare of the defiant mother radiated pure, unmistakable disappointment.
"You will NEVER be a true leader!" she screamed through her raspy, injured throat. "I hate you with every last plate in my shell! You are NOT my daughter—you are a living mistake, you inadequate, worthless, flimsy excuse for a—"
(snap)
The new Queen took her post, and life in the Hive went on.
A year passed. One year became two, and then three.
But many more years would pass before Queen Chrysalis finally understood why she felt so deeply nourished—the endless hunger of a changeling, completely satiated—in those brief, painful moments just before she snapped her mother's neck.
