Servant of the Queen

“Now, tell me honestly, young princess. Is the sword belt too tight? I can easily adjust it now before the outfit is complete.”

Chrysidea was standing in the workshop, trying on her blood moon outfit. The basic layout and chainmail backing was complete, now it was just up to fitting and fine tuning by her aunt. The workshop still smelled of burning metal, something which the air freshener in the corner was battling valiantly against.

The changeling princess had her Eastern straight sword buckled to her belt, and was in the process of drawing it out. There was a metallic ring as the blade cleared the scabbard.

“It is a bit tight on the left side,” Chrysidea noted. “The whole thing is kind of heavy.”

“It’s armor, sweetie. It’s only natural for it to be heavier than regular clothing. It shouldn’t hamper your swordsmanship skills unduly, right?”

“I don’t think so,” Chrysidea shook her head. For a regular human, an outfit like this would have been rather hot to wear, but as she couldn’t feel heat, it was perfect.

“I’ll see about delivering a couple of extra blades to the foot of the hill, where the gates are. That is where you will make your stand. There is only one clear way up to the top of the hill in the park, and it’s through that gate,” Ivory Wings recited from memory. “So anyone looking to disturb our work will have to come up that way. You will be our sentinel.”

“And you’ll be at the top of the hill doing the ritual?” Chrysidea asked as she unbuckled her sword belt.

“Something like that,” Ivory said, holding the belt and taking a pair of scissors to it, trimming and adjusting the length. “Don’t think too much of it. All you have to do is stop anyone from interrupting us. Simple, yes?”

“Will anyone even come to stop us? I mean, you roped Sunset and that other Twilight Sparkle into helping you with this. Can’t you just keep them from interfering still?”

“They should know better than to stick their noses in where it’s not welcome, but you know these hero type people. They don’t have a lick of common sense,” Ivory sighed. “Now, since we don’t want to kill anyone, as a body is evidence, your task will be to keep them off us until the gems are fixed. Then we can bolt.”

“B-But… isn’t what the sword is for?” Chrysidea tapped her weapon. “How can I fight with this without killing anyone?”

Ivory Wings gave her niece a loaded look.

“You remember what I did at the Eastern fair? You don’t always have to move in for the kill. Delaying tactics, sweetie.”

“Umm, right…”

She didn’t like being reminded of the fair. Sure, it was really cool and amazing, but again, she’d lost her chance with Home Run by interruption. It had already been a week ago, but it still left a sour taste in her mouth just thinking about it.

“Aunt Ivory, do you think I’m… cursed or something?” she decided to ask.

“What makes you say that?” Ivory asked as she took out her phone and began swiping through the gallery.

“I keep getting interrupted when things are getting good. It’s really every single time. It’s like… I’m not meant to get what I want.”

“And what is it that you want, sweetie?” Ivory Wings asked patiently, putting her phone away.

“I just…” Chrysidea paused. “I just want… I want to be with Home Run.”

Ivory Wings seemed to consider this carefully. “I know that you’re hungry, but consider this. It takes typically years for our prey to consider being intimate with us. Maybe standards have gotten looser and lower since my last hunt, but that’s the point of it. A hunt isn’t supposed to be quick and easy. Not if you want a rich, fulfilling meal. So you’re actually making good progress, whether you know it or not.”

“I know, I know, it’s just… I wanted to have time with him. Instead it was taken from me. Again. Is it too much to just want more time alone with him?” Chrysidea sat down on a crate and groaned. “I think life hates me.”

“You know what, sweetie.” Ivory walked over and placed a hand on her niece’s shoulder. “Life hates us. Humans don’t like anything that isn’t them. Why do you think we’ve had to hide all these years? Our kind, the vampires, the werewolves, humans have wiped all of us out over the years just because we aren’t them. To live the way we’re living, we’re very privileged. You haven’t had to run for your life, have you? Trust me, it’s not something you’d want.”

Chrysidea made a weird noise. Yes, life for a non-human has always been tough, but still, she’d like things to go her way for once.

“Don’t look so downcast, sweetie,” Ivory said, rubbing her niece’s head. “We’re in a good place now. Your mother’s position is very secure, and as her second in command, I won’t let anything destabilize the peace we’ve earned for ourselves.”

The younger princess paused. She knew that her aunt meant well, and that there wasn’t a selfish bone in her body. But to hear that humans, and by extension Home Run, would reject and spurn her if they found out what she really was made her spirits sink. How could they? Just how? And why? Was it so bad to not be a human being? It didn’t make sense to her. So what if they were different? Why did humans have to kill what wasn’t them?

“Anyway. Try the belt on now, it should fit you better.”

Chrysidea slipped the belt back around her waist and affixed her sword’s sheath back onto it. It did fit her much better now. She turned around in a tall mirror that her aunt had moved into the workshop and admired herself.

“I look… ready for a fight,” Chrysidea said to herself.

She smiled. This Halloween was her chance to prove to her mother that she could do something right, as well as help the sirens out of their predicament.

"Finally, a chance to be useful." The younger changeling turned around in the mirror to check her appearance from different angles.

Ivory watched her niece with a small smile. “Remember, sweetie, you don’t have to kill anyone. Just make sure that they don’t get past you. Your mother and I will go over the final details soon.”

“Okay,” Chrysidea said with a nod. “Where is mother now, anyway?”

At that precise moment, the door to the workshop swung open. Chrysalis was standing in the doorway, her face quite unreadable. She walked in and looked her daughter up and down.

“You look good,” Chrysalis said eventually. “Black suits you. Much better than tan or mauve, I should say.”

“Huh?” Chrysidea wasn’t sure what her mother was getting at.

“Your skin. Black. Looks nice.”

“Oh,” the younger princess said, a little bit confused at the sudden compliment.

“You see, if I had my way, we’d be able to wear our true colors all the time,” Chrysalis licked her teeth.

“Oh, here we go…” Psithyra rolled her eyes.

“If I ruled the world…” Chrysalis placed a hand on her chest. “Changelings wouldn’t be in hiding. Humans will. And seeing as they can’t hide as well as we can, I’d say they would go extinct in a matter of months, give or take. See how they like being hunted and all.” Then she prodded a finger at her sister’s face. “But I’m trying things your way, sister, and how’s that working out for you?”

Not bothering to point out the flaws in her elder sister’s plan, Psithyra simply stood up and stretched, working out the kinks that sitting down for so long had put in. “That’s very inspiring, your highness. Now, what did you come here for?”

“I came to speak to my only child, didn’t I?” Chrysalis said in a sing-song voice. Then she turned to Chrysidea. “That letter opener you got from that Home Sprint boy. Bring it to me.”

“How many times do I have to tell you, it’s Home Run,” Psithyra sighed. “How do you survive in the acting industry if you can’t even remember people’s names?”

“Whatever. Go get the knife,” Chrysalis jerked her head at Chrysidea, who scurried out of the workshop like a frightened mouse.

“Now what do you need her gift for?” Psithyra was curious. “It’s hers. It’s not for you to play around with.”

“Nobody sends letters these days,” Chrysalis said dismissively. “I’m going to make it more useful. You like practical things, don’t you?”

“I do, yes.”

“Then you’re going to like this. I’m going to give my daughter a better chance on the blood moon night.”

“With… that… letter opener?”

Chrysalis examined her fingernails carelessly. “Yes. Though it won’t be a letter opener much longer.”

The changeling queen moved over to the mannequin that Psithyra had been using to model her niece’s outfit. “Have the renovations been done yet?” Chrysalis picked up a square of chainmail and held it up to her eye to give it a once-over.

“All done, your majesty,” Psithyra replied and went back to working at her table. “You’ll find it has all the space we need.”

“Excellent,” Chrysalis nodded. She tossed the chainmail away. “You’re certain that those children will show up and try to stop us?”

“You know how they work.” Psithyra tinkered with a loose mechanism inside a sheath. “I’m sure they’re regretting giving me the information I wanted. They’ll go to the site and they’ll try to shut us down. They always do.”

Unfortunately, Chrysalis knew exactly what her sister meant. They had dealt with heroes and villains of all kinds over the ages. Humans always seemed to have the same mentality when it comes to stopping their plans. They generally enjoyed arriving at the last minute where they had to risk it all to win. Unfortunately for them, it wasn’t anything like the movies most of the time.

“In the end, I always win,” Chrysalis said smugly.

Deciding not to comment on that, Psithyra simply made a noncommittal noise in her throat.

The patter of footsteps announced the return of Chrysidea. She was holding her letter opener by the blade, as if carrying a pair of scissors.

“Right, give it here.” Chrysalis held out her palm.

The younger changeling placed it on her palm and stepped back.

Chrysalis held the small knife at an arm’s length, checking the balance and the quality of the tool. Finally she nodded contentedly and turned back to her daughter.

“I’m going to go grind this into a proper throwing knife. You know how to throw knives, don’t you?” Chrysalis loomed over Chrysidea. “Then you should have no problem with this. Just think of it as an extra little trick you can use when delaying any would-be troublemakers. Aim for the throat.”

“Absolutely do not aim for the throat,” Psithyra protested. “We don’t want to kill anyone, remember?”

“Pssssh, whatever.” Chrysalis waved a hand and walked for the door. “Just get my daughter ready for the ritual.”

And with that, the changeling queen swept out of the workshop like a sudden storm, kicking up sawdust into the air. Psithyra blinked and patted the debris out of her hair.

“Anyway. Throwing knife or not, that should be your last resort weapon. A corpse is evidence, and we don’t need a police inquiry on our hands, hmm?”

Chrysidea nodded meekly at her aunt’s suggestion. “I d-don’t want to have to kill them either.”

Psithyra smiled approvingly. “I should have everything I need to finish your outfit now. Why don’t you run along and do something else, instead of hanging around this musty workshop? Come Halloween night, you’re going to be busy.”