Chrysalis: Rise of the Changeling Queen

Chapters

Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Epilogue

Prologue

A firm series of knocks alerted Twilight Sparkle. “Just a minute!” she called, putting the finishing touches on today’s study layout. Trotting down the stairs to the castle’s main doors, she pulled them open to greet the young Changeling Prince.

“Good morning, Twilight,” Thorax smiled. To a casual observer, he couldn’t look more different to the archetypal changeling. Instead of the short, half-rotten parasite they were known for, Thorax now stood at a height that nearly rivalled Princess Celestia. Though he retained many of his insectoid features—most notably his translucent, butterfly wings, compound eyes, and mandible-like horns—his chitin shined with a healthy mix of greens, oranges, and purples. “Is Spike around, by any chance?”

“I actually gave him the day off,” Twilight admitted, her smile sympathetic. “He seriously needs a break from Equestria’s dark side, and my cursory knowledge of Changeling history is pretty bleak. No offence.”

“None taken,” Thorax nodded. “Yeah, I get that. It’s not gonna be a happy tale, but it’ll be good to get it off my chest all the same.”

Twilight hummed for a moment. “Well, once we’ve taken care of business, we can always arrange for a fun day out together. What do you say to donuts and milkshakes in Canterlot?”

“Delicious!” Thorax started licking his lips, only to stop halfway and blush. “Although… would you mind if I take a pony form during our day out? I’m still a little self-conscious about the whole ‘Prince of Changelings’ title.”

“Oh, of course. I know the feeling,” Twilight flapped her wings a little as she stepped aside to usher in her guest. “We’ll discuss details closer to the time. Please, come inside.”

“Thank you, Princess Twilight,” Thorax bowed and walked in.

“You can just call me ‘Twilight,’ if you prefer,” she said as she closed the door. “This won’t be a formal interview, or anything. More like a discussion between friends.”

He tilted his head a little. “But aren’t you writing a new textbook on Changelings? Y’know, for use in your friendship school? That sounds pretty formal to me.”

“Well, yeah, but that’s for me to work out after I’ve taken my notes,” Twilight smiled gently, keeping her tone soft. “I know a history recital is a big ask. That’s why I want to make it as relaxed as possible for you. No pressure, just chat at your own pace.”

“I appreciate that,” Thorax smiled back and let out an awkward chuckle. “Sorry, you can tell I’ve got a lot to learn about royal stuff.”

“Don’t forget, I’ve not been a Princess for long, either. Just be yourself, and I’ll take care of the rest.” Walking up the stairs and a short way down the left hallway, Twilight gestured toward her study. “Feel free to make yourself comfortable, by the way. I just need to grab the kettle off the stove.”

“Oh? You’re making tea?” Thorax asked with a slight edge of excitement. “I’ve always wanted to try different types of tea.”

“Well, you’re in luck!” Twilight beamed. “I’ve made a special brew of chamomile tea, just for us.”

“Thank you, Twilight.” Thorax turned his attention to the study space before him. It was exactly as he had imagined. Hundreds of books stacked row upon row on shelves and bookcases, all arranged both categorically and alphabetically. In the middle of the room sat a small table, sporting velvet cushions in lieu of chairs and a small set of teacups on either side. Despite being a single room out of dozens inside a huge, crystal castle, Twilight had a way of making the place feel oddly quaint and cosy.

It was quite the opposite of his hive, or rather, what it was all those centuries ago. She chose to maintain the understated aesthetic that resembled her old Canterlot home, even with such grand resources and potential wealth at her hooves. Thorax wished his lineage had taken that to heart. Maybe, then, the destiny of the Changelings would have been brighter, weathering the storm that sent them down such a dark path.

“Thorax?”

Her voice broke his trance. He shook his head and took a step back. “Sorry, Twilight. Just… got lost in thought for a bit, there.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Twilight set the kettle down gently in the middle of the table. “We can reschedule if you’d prefer, or even spread the interview across multiple days. However long you’re comfortable with.”

“No, it’s okay,” Thorax sat on one of the cushions crossed legged, then took a deep breath. “I’ll be okay. After a life of suppression and forced conformity, it’s good to have somecreature to discuss Changeling history with.”

“Understandable,” Twilight replied. Sitting opposite, she poured some tea into Thorax’s cup. “Princess Luna had a lot of… let’s say, ‘unresolved trauma’ to deal with post-Nightmare Moon. I don’t think I ever told you about the Tantibus, but to make a long story short, the nightmares it caused were the least of our problems.”

“Wow, that must have been tricky to deal with, huh?” Thorax cringed a little. Holding his cup in both hooves, he took a deep breath in through his nose, inhaling the scent before taking a sip.

“Oh, believe me, it was,” Twilight let out a small chuckle. Her dealings with the Tantibus wasn’t one of her fondest adventures, but Luna’s forthgoing happiness made it all worth it. “How’s the tea, by the way?”

“It’s lovely, thank you,” Thorax smiled and took another sip.

“Good to know,” she drank a little of her own, then grabbed her quill and parchment in her magic. “Anyway, in your own time, we can begin. What were Changelings like before Equestria’s founding?”

“It may surprise you, but our current appearance is pretty close,” Thorax answered. Though he tried to sound matter of fact, he couldn’t hide his subtle, sombre inflection. “There are a couple things you should know about Changeling biology. First, we are all genderfluid. Being able to shape-shift means we can choose whatever gender suits us best, though some stick closer to the traditional binary than others.

“Secondly, we all inherit the memories of our family lineage. While I’m only a couple hundred years old, I can remember events of my ancestors as clearly as I recall my own. Of course, that doesn’t mean all memories are perfect, but some stuff in life you just never forget. I’m actually the sixth Thorax in my family line, with the first being betrothed to Queen Chrysalis.”

Twilight stopped writing with a sharp cut. “Wait a minute, the Chrysalis, or just an ancestor?”

“In this case, there’s only ever been one Queen Chrysalis,” Thorax sighed, the words tasting bitter in his mouth. “Some might say that her story is intertwined with that of all Changelings, but it’s more complicated than that. In a way, she was our saviour in our most desperate time, but by the same token, she damned us to a life as parasites—” he paused abruptly, placing a hoof over his mouth. “Sorry, excuse my language.”

“It’s fine,” Twilight replied, trying not to squirm at the unpleasant revelation about Chrysalis. “If I had any doubts before about this topic’s emotional weight, they’ve all been squashed now. So, feel free to be as harsh as you need. I’ll be editing the text for general audiences, anyway.”

“Thanks, Twilight.” He took another deep breath. “For your sake, I’ll try and keep my rambling to a minimum. Anyway, Changelings have a similar creation myth to Ponies, and for as long as both species have been able to talk, we’ve lived side by side. We did feed off of harmony, but it was a consensual relationship. We helped Ponies in their daily lives, and Ponies gave us their love in return. But there was one problem with this whole idea…”

“Go on,” Twilight prompted, though she suspected she already knew the answer.

“The pre-unification civil war.”

Chapter 1

On a snowy winter’s day, twelve-hundred years ago, the Changeling known as Princess Chrysalis took a stroll through a small earth pony settlement. It was by no means a fancy place to live, as earth ponies tended to favour more practical architecture than their more upstart cousins. But that didn’t mean their homes were free from decoration. Chrysalis was particularly fond of the wood carvings placed in front of each house, expressing the occupant’s family history or profession in a similar manner to a cutie mark. For sure, it was a world apart from her own hive, which resembled more the extravagant designs of unicorn cities, with long pathways winding around magnificent spires, all to hold hundreds of faelings inside each structure.

Despite the bitter cold, the townsfolk did their best to focus on their daily business. Travelling traders set up campfires near their stalls in town, doing their best to advertise their wares to passers-by. The existence of extra competition didn’t bother the local shop owners at all. Rather, they welcomed it, trading and exchanging resources with their fellow earth ponies to expand their stock.

While it was not uncommon to find the odd goat or griffon among the merchants, Chrysalis had not come to see them. She was here to meet her own kind, the most prevalent of non-pony races, the faelings. Much like their modern Changeling ancestors, their chitin sported a bright array colours, shimmering in the daylight. They were always accompanied by at least one or two ponies, assisting them in whatever work needed to be done.

Some helped with inventory rotation, while others rattled off facts about their products, hoping to lure potential customers. There was even the odd hatchling around, playing in the snow with pony foals. It was a harmony that warmed Chrysalis’ heart, one which she wished the other pony tribes would show to their brethren.

Chrysalis let out a small sigh, her breath condensing into a light mist. Winter had come sooner than expected this year, which influenced her decision to visit the earth pony tribes first. As was their namesake, earth ponies were predominantly farmers, tending to the earth around settlements to grow enough fruit, vegetables, and grains to feed the townsfolk, while also retaining a bit extra to trade off or save for difficult times.

Well, difficult times had arrived in force. They brought volatile snowstorms, which had kept her confined to her hive almost every day for the past month. She tried to capitalise her time when the storms relented, but with her hive being three days’ flight away from the nearest settlement—when there was good weather—she hadn’t gotten far.

Looking at the ponies and faelings around her, she smiled. From the way they laughed and joked with one another, she’d never have guessed the harvest was poor this year.

Her attention was broken when she felt something bump against her leg. Looking down, she saw a little filly lying at her hooves, cradling her right shoulder as she fought back her tears.

“Pumpkin Spice!”

Before Chrysalis could say anything, a deep orange coated mare rushed to the child’s aid.

“Oh my stars! Please be beggin’ your pardon, Princess Chrysalis,” the mare said, bowing profusely as she pulled her foal against her chest. “The little one didn’t mean no harm. She just got carried away with her game, is all.”

“It’s quite alright,” Chrysalis smiled warmly. “She caused no harm to me. But it looks like the filly has hurt her shoulder. Do you need medical assistance?”

The mare looked down at Pumpkin Spice, turning her to get a better look at her injury. The filly squirmed in her grasp, biting her lip as she winced in pain. “Now you hold still, y’hear? I need to see exactly where you’re hurtin’.”

The filly looked up at Chrysalis, as if pleading for some relief – though by her reddening cheeks, her mother’s fussing embarrassed her. In response, Chrysalis flared her horn with magic, calling a pair of faelings to her side.

“Yes, my Matron Mother?” they replied together.

“This earth pony filly appears to have hurt her shoulder,” Chrysalis said, gesturing to Pumpkin Spice who looked to be on the verge of panic. “I doubt it’s anything serious, but could you bring her to the doctor, just in case?”

“Of course, Matron Mother,” the faelings performed a shallow bow before turning to the filly, who was now squirming more than ever.

“Allow us to introduce ourselves,” said the faeling on the left in a soft tone. “My name is Pharynx, and this is my sister, Sclerite.”

“The faelings you were playing with?” added Sclerite. “They are all part of our big family, too. They mean you no harm, and neither do we.”

“I’d like to ask you a silly question, if I may?” Pharynx smiled. “What’s your favourite animal that’s not a faeling or a pony?”

Pumpkin thought about the question for a moment. “I like sheep,” she said. “Because they’re big and fluffy.”

In a flash of green magic, the assistant faelings transformed themselves into small sheep, making sure to generate coats with extra fluff. The filly’s face lit up, her jaw dropping.

“Mommy, can I go with the magic sheep to see the doctor?” Pumpkin looked at her mother with a wide-eyed stare.

Her mother hesitated, but ultimately she stood no chance against the classic puppy-eye look. “Alright,” she relented. “You just behave yourself, y’hear? And don’t go runnin’ off anywhere until I come to pick ya up.”

“Yes, mommy!” Pumpkin chirped. It seemed, at first, that she’d forgotten all about her injury, though she soon got a harsh reminder. The second she tried to climb on the sheep-faeling’s back, she winced with pain, falling onto her side yet again.

“Here, let me help you with that,” Chrysalis said. Sparking her horn, she took hold of the filly with her magic and carefully levitated her into a mounted position. “Rest easy now, little one.”

“Thank ya kindly, Princess Chrysalis,” the mother bowed once again. “Is there anythin’ I can do to repay ya?”

“Oh, no, you hold no debt to me,” Chrysalis smiled. “Though I would like to know your name, so we can perhaps catch up more in future.”

The mare blushed. “Sorry, I guess I forgot t’ introduce myself. The name’s Pepper Spice. I run a little café not far from here. It should go without sayin’, but you’re welcome there anytime.”

“It’s good to meet you, Pepper. I’ll be sure to stop by once I’ve caught up with the rest of my subject—” Suddenly, a strong gust of wind blasted Chrysalis with a face-full of snow.

From out of nowhere, a gang of pegasi swooped into town, causing the locals to scatter in fear. By the time Chrysalis wiped her face clear of snow, the pegasi were already wreaking havoc, diving toward the earth pony citizens in unprovoked attacks. A few traders tried to defend themselves, but they barely managed to get in more than a hit or two. Worse still, if a Pegasus wasn’t assaulting, they took out their aggression on the trader stalls instead, smashing to pieces anything they could get their hooves on.

“What is the meaning of this?!” Chrysalis boomed, her powerful voice commanding silence.

All eyes turned to her. In particular, the leader of the Pegasus gang landed a short distance ahead of her. She was a scruffy mare, sporting an unkempt fur coat that was deep red in colour. This was in sharp contrast to the mane, dyed hot pink and combed back into a mohawk. Despite the cocky grin on her face, Chrysalis could tell she wasn’t in the best of health. Her wings were missing several feathers, exposing the skin underneath, riddled with sores, likely from parasitic insect bites.

“Well, what do you know?” the Pegasus mare said with a sarcastic sneer. “Looks like the earth ponies have an infestation on their hooves. Not surprising when they roll around in the dirt all day!”

The other pegasi burst out laughing, much to the chagrin of the townsfolk. Pepper Spice, however, refused to take the insult lying down. “What in Mother Gaia’s name do you airheads want with us?!” she snapped. “We already sold all the spare produce we could to Cloudsdale. In case you’re blind as well as dumb, the snowstorms meant we can’t sell anymore, lest our kids start goin’ hungry!”

Chrysalis cringed at the petty insults, though she knew Pepper made a good point. The earth ponies weren’t being selfish, they just provided what was within their means. “Come now, there’s no need for such strong—”

“Cloudsdale?” the Pegasus mare spat on the ground, ignoring Chrysalis’ plea for peace. “Who do you think you’re buckin’ talking about, pal? I’m Swift Nimbus, heir to the founding family ofCloudsdale! Dirt lovers like you were made to serve us, so we’re the ones who’ll decide if your paltry offerings are enough.”

“Everypony, please calm down!” Chrysalis stepped forward, trying to put herself between Pepper and Nimbus. “Why must we trade insults when we can discuss this like adults? I’m sure we can come to a mutually beneficial solution.”

“Back off, bug brain!” Nimbus snapped, flaring her wings. “This is pony business. We pegasi are sick of taking shit from earth ponies, putting up with whatever leftover scraps they throw at us. We’re here to take back what’s rightfully ours, and we’re not about to let any dirt lovers stand in our way.”

“I’d like to see you try, airheads!” Pepper lowered her head and widened her stance, preparing to charge. “Ain’t nothin’ gonna stop me from protectin’ my kids.”

At that, Nimbus’ eye twitched. It was a subtle gesture, but one Chrysalis understood all too well. Things were about to get ugly. “Alright, if that’s how you’re playing it,” Nimbus announced, clapping her hooves together as she leapt into the air. “You heard the gal, my loyal subjects. Let’s teach the dirt lovers a lesson!”

Wasting no time, the Pegasi attacked, launching themselves forward with heavy wing beats and slamming into the earth pony citizens. Others stepped up their destruction, smashing their way into home after home, ransacking them for any food contained within.

The earth ponies were far from helpless, however. Many charged in after the pegasi, cornering them wherever their flight advantage was lost. Others still clambered up hidden staircases and leapt from the rooftops, though only a lucky few timed their jumps well enough to catch a marauder in flight.

Chrysalis couldn’t believe her eyes. Why were ponies being so cruel to one another? Yes, food shortages were a problem, but that shouldn’t have been an excuse for such senseless violence! After the kindness shown by Pepper, a mare who was now brawling with the pink-haired Pegasus, she couldn’t stand by and let the chaos spread any further.

Hear my voice, my dearest kin, Chrysalis transmitted her thoughts to every faeling in town. Please, bring this violence to an end, so no more harm may come to these ponies.

As one, the faelings reacted, their attention snapping to the scuffle. Then, they transformed, selecting the forms of griffons to rush in and push the brawlers away from one another. A few ponies backed off at once, recognising this as a fight they couldn’t win – though most still tried to fight on. Those who wouldn’t settle were quickly restrained, finding themselves no match for the superior strength of the griffon form.

That left but two ponies still fighting, both of whom Chrysalis would address herself. She didn’t need to transform, her magic was already powerful, grabbing both Pepper and Nimbus within her aura.

“It appears I have to separate you like children,” Chrysalis snapped, shooting both mares a scornful look. “If you want to overcome adversity, then you must cooperate. One of you tends to the earth, while the other tends to the weather. I may not understand why you insist on fighting, but this madness stops right now.”

Pepper looked away, her cheeks flushing bright red. Nimbus, by contrast, showed no such shame, instead gritting her teeth as she shot Chrysalis a deep, hate-filled look. “Do you know how many earth pony towns have blocked our food supply?!” she snapped, trying and failing to wriggle free from Chrysalis’ entrapment. “They blame us for the bad harvest! No matter what we say, they won’t trade us anything until we change the weather. Do they honestly think we haven’t tried that? My…”

The words caught in her throat. Chrysalis felt the emotions shift within the Pegasus mare. This wasn’t mere anger - it was frustration.

“My child is sick,” Nimbus continued, fighting back the tears. “We’re so short on food, she ate something poisonous by mistake. We don’t know what it is, and our doctors have their hooves full. All because these dirt lovers decided to blame their shitty farming on us!”

“And how is attacking us going to help, ya stupid airheads?” Pepper snapped back. “I feel for ya, pal, I really do. I’m a mother myself. I don’t know the first thing about weather workin’, but I know stealin’ our food ain’t gonna make your little one any better.”

“Don’t you dare talk about my child that way!” Now Nimbus was furious, gnashing her teeth at Pepper like a rabid dog. “For all I know, she was poisoned deliberately, out of spite!”

“Listen to yourselves!” Chrysalis interrupted. “Pepper is right, nothing will come from pointless fights. Why not ask the unicorn tribes for help? Surely they can get to the bottom of this issue?”

For once, both Pepper and Nimbus shared the same reaction: looking at each other, then turning up their noses in disgust. “You’ve gotta be kiddin’ me!” Pepper exclaimed. “Those stuck-up, high-horn royals want nothin’ to do with us.”

“They’d probably curse us for darin’ to step hoof in their towns,” added Nimbus, rolling her eyes. “To them, we’re no better than savages, unlike them. Know-it-all pricks.”

Chrysalis sighed and rubbed her forehead. “This is ridiculous. There must be something you can work… out… together…” suddenly, her magic faded, then vanished, her vision blurring as she struggled to remain standing. Her rapid-onset affliction rippled through her fellow faelings, reverting to their base forms as their strength vanished.

“Princess Chrysalis!” Pepper landed with a thud and broke into a gallop, rushing to her side.

Nimbus didn’t follow suit. Instead, she just huffed and hovered in mid-air. “Let’s get out of here,” she said to her Pegasus followers. “Nothing good’s gonna come from this town.”

Defeated, the pegasi made a hasty exit, leaving empty-hoofed. For a few moments after, all was silent. The traders picked up the pieces of their shattered stalls, salvaging whatever they could. But none of them chose to resume business as usual. In fact, most of the townsponies decided to head home instead, the parents hastily grabbing their children in case the pegasi wanted round two.

This left Pepper alone with Chrysalis and the faelings. “Y’all okay here, Chrysalis?” she slid up alongside the faeling princess to help her keep balance.

“I… I think I will be,” Chrysalis replied, though she was breathing heavily. “I’m sorry, I can’t visit your café today. I must return to my hive and rest for a while.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Pepper furrowed her brow. “You’re not gonna get far in this condition. Please, rest a while and build up your strength. It’s the least I can do after causin’ ya so much trouble.”

“Thank you, Pepper,” Chrysalis smiled, feeling her strength slowly return. “But I’m already feeling much better. What about you, though? Are you hurt at all?”

Pepper shook her head. “Nothin’ a hot bath won’t fix. That said, I’d best be gettin’ back to Pumpkin Spice. The doctor shoulda got a good look at her now.”

“Mommy!” as if on cue, Pumpkin came galloping back into her mother’s waiting hooves. “Did mean sky ponies hurt you? The magic sheep got hurt protecting me.”

“I’m alright, Pumpkin,” Pepper pulled her daughter into a tight hug, kissing her on the forehead. “I’m not hurt, thanks to Chrysalis here.”

Pumpkin looked up at Chrysalis. Where just minutes ago she looked upon her with fear, now she was smiling brightly. She took Chrysalis’ hoof within her own and shook it. “Thank you for protecting my mommy, Miss Chrysalis. I love you!”

The words shot through Chrysalis’ mind like a lightning bolt, a surge of life returning to her weakened limbs. For the first time in many years, she felt her cheeks flush bright red. “I love you, too, little one,” Chrysalis smiled in return, accepting the foal’s hoofshake. “Your love gives life to both me and all of my kind. I hope you can learn to love other ponies as you have loved me.”

With that, Chrysalis telepathically called to all the other faelings within the town. Together, they formed a swarm around their princess, protecting her as they turned their backs on the earth ponies and began the journey back to their hive.

Thorax took a break from recanting his tale to take another sip of his tea. It had cooled significantly since he started talking, though if it tasted worse, he didn’t show.

Twilight almost lamented the fact she couldn’t transcribe his emotions through her text. This historical account had to be purely factual, free from personal bias. Yet, as professional as she tried to be, she still felt the lump in her throat from all the details he’d discussed so far.

“I don’t believe it…” As soon as the words left her lips, her body stiffened. She hadn’t intended to say that out loud. “I mean, I do believe what you told me, Thorax. It’s just hard to imagine Chrysalis ever being kind!”

Thorax gave a solemn nod. “Trust me, I know. Just one year ago, it would’ve been hard to believe any Changeling could be kind, wouldn’t it?”

Twilight bowed her head, her ears falling flat. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend.”

Thorax shook his head. “Don’t worry, you didn’t. You said it yourself, this was always going to be a difficult subject.”

“Well, I can say you’re handling the subject extremely well,” Twilight added. “It sounds to me like Chrysalis genuinely wanted peace between ponies. Even if she… lost sight of that goal, you never did. I don’t think Spike would’ve latched on to you without good reason.”

“Thanks, Twilight,” sipped once more. “I think more Changelings would’ve felt the same way, were it not for what Chrysalis became.”

Twilight sat her pen and parchment down, finishing her own tea to emotionally prepare herself for the tale to come. “Would you like some more?” she asked, grasping the kettle in her magic.

“I’m alright, thanks. I’m ready to continue, if that’s okay?”

“Of course,” Twilight nodded and dipped the end of her quill in the ink pot. “What were the long-term effects of the pre-unification war?”

Chapter 2

Things were not looking good for the faelings. The incident in the earth pony settlement was seven months ago, and tensions between the three pony tribes had never been higher. Chrysalis tried to provide aid through her hive workers wherever possible, but it wasn’t enough. Winter changed to spring, and now they were on the cusp of summer with no changes to the weather.

No matter what the pegasi tribes did, they couldn’t stop the endless snowstorms from raging, locking them inside for weeks at a time. On the few occasions the snow stopped, the raids grew in both frequency and violence. What Chrysalis experienced before was merely a taste of what was to come.

Ponies armed themselves with whatever weapons they had available. No longer content with stealing food and destroying property, the raiders openly hunted and killed members of different tribes. So horrid were the sights she witnessed, sleep became a near impossibility. Every time she closed her eyes, she’d see another body, broken and mutilated beyond all recognition.

So, after many days of careful consideration, Chrysalis returned to her hive. There was nothing more she could do for the ponies. From this point on, she had to focus on survival of both her own and her kind. The long, snowy walk was a sombre one, her head hung low as the winds battered her face. Her strength had all but faltered, now too weak to fly.

The hive’s outer walls reflected her mood. Gone was the polished amber on the spiral towers, replaced instead with a dull, rusted brown. Chrysalis looked up at the runes carved on the front gates and tapped them with her horn. Nothing happened. She closed her eyes and concentrated, straining her muscles to force up whatever magic she had left. What came out was barely a spark, but it was enough. The runes lit up and the gates swung open.

Inside, the resident faelings didn’t look much better. They tried to show some enthusiasm for their princess’ return, but she could tell their smiles were forced. The colours of their chitin were fading, and they were all dreadfully thin. As much as she hated to admit it, her kin were dying. Many had already succumbed to malnutrition, their bodies littering the hive despite attempts to conceal them.

“Matron Mother,” said Pharynx, looking up at Chrysalis, eyes dim. “How are the negotiations? Are the ponies well?”

Chrysalis suppressed a pained sigh. She knew Pharynx had developed a special relationship with the filly, Pumpkin Spice. She wished she could tell him the truth, but she knew the truth would, quite literally, kill him. “They are well,” she feigned optimism through a gentle voice. “There has been… progress, however small. I anticipate all shall be well soon enough.”

“Thank you, Matron Mother,” Pharynx bowed, only to be rattled by a violent cough. His voice was raspy and thin. If Chrysalis didn’t find a solution to the love famine soon, the faeling race would be no more. She hoped her little white lie would help them hang on for just a bit longer.

“I shall spread the word,” Pharynx continued once he got his breath back. “The Matron Mother always brings hope, without fail.”

The higher she ascended through her hive, the more times Chrysalis had to repeat the same lie. She had to concentrate hard to keep her mind closed, avoiding any telepathic projection that would accidentally reveal the truth.

Once she entered the royal chamber, she all but collapsed onto her throne, panting. There to greet her was the one amongst her kin she could be one-hundred percent honest with: her mate, Thorax, first Prince of all faelings.

“My love, you’ve returned!” he exclaimed, dropping the letter he was reading and throwing his hooves around her. “How did it go? Did the delegation reach a decision?”

“The delegation…” Chrysalis bit her lip. “…was a dismal failure. None of the three pony tribes could agree on anything, all blaming each other for the current crisis.”

Thorax’s expression fell. “I’m sorry to hear that, though I’m hardly surprised.”

“It’s worse than that,” she continued, both her voice and her hooves trembling. “I stopped by the earth pony town on the way back. You know the one, right? Where I met the injured filly? Well, it… it’s….” She could barely describe what she’d seen, it was so horrific.

“Relax, my love,” Thorax hugged Chrysalis tighter, gently rubbing his hoof down her mane. “You don’t need to speak if you’re unable. Mind meld with me, and I’ll see for myself what you encountered.”

Chrysalis gave a solemn nod, touching her horn against Thorax’s and letting what little magic she had left to flow free. In her mind’s eye, she saw it all. Oh, how foolish she had been, thinking that the one band pegasi ruffians were the epitome of brutality. No, the unicorns that had followed her were far worse.

The unicorn militia didn’t raid the town, they destroyed it, razed it to the ground and captured any survivors. All for the sake of revenge over their own ruined city. They were just civilians! She cried mentally, just as she’d done on that day. They barely had any weapons. They just wanted to be left in peace! Just because they’re earth ponies... Why did they have to be so brutal? And Pepper, she…

Then, she saw it. They both did. Pepper had been slaughtered, executed like a dangerous criminal. All for standing up to the unicorns when few others would. Now, her body had been burned, her head cut off and placed on a pike around the outskirts of town – along with any others that dared to question the attackers’ authority. It was a sight that shook Chrysalis to her very core.

“My goodness—” Thorax broke away suddenly, his breaths fast and shallow as he severed the magical link. “I knew the three pony tribes were at each other’s throats, but this? This is on a whole new level.”

“I’m sick of it,” Chrysalis sobbed. “I’m sick of all the fighting, the hatred, the injustice. It’s not just the unicorns, either. I see this everywhere. Poisoned water, towers crumbling, wings ripped from their sockets… Because of this war, our kin, they are dying, Thorax. Starved of love. We cannot fight in this condition, and if ponies will not give us the love we need, we…” she thought about her next words carefully, swallowing hard. “We must find a way to exist independently.”

Thorax cringed at the notion, a reaction that came as no surprise to Chrysalis. Faelings had existed within pony societies for hundreds of years. She had thought long and hard about the topic, and her decision was not made lightly. They both knew the three tribes got into conflicts from time to time, but this? This was different.

“I… understand,” Thorax hesitated. “The cruelty, it is nothing like we’ve ever seen. But there must be ponies out there who think as we do, like Pepper Spice. They can’t all be monsters! Maybe if I talk with the unicorns, I can help them see—”

“It’s too late for that!” Chrysalis snapped, causing Thorax to lurch back in his seat. Seeing his lower lip quiver, she softened her tone. “I know you mean well, my love. You have always had a heart for both ponies and faelings. But I fear that this time, the ponies have gone too far. When our kin are starving, we need a new source of love to sustain us. The longer we wait, the more of us will die.”

Thorax let out a heavy sigh. “You’re right, a short-term solution is vital. Perhaps there is wisdom to be found in both our methods? Maybe I am naïve, but I still feel there is a deeper cause to the disaster unfolding.

“I don’t know how, just yet, but I feel that this endless winter and the escalating war are interlinked. Perhaps, for now, it’s best we follow our own paths in looking for a solution? We can still convene regularly to share what facts we uncover. This way, we can keep each other informed and adjust our plans accordingly.”

A small smile grew across Chrysalis’ lips, her posture relaxing. “I knew I made a good decision in choosing you as my mate,” she said, staring deep into Thorax’s eyes. “I love you so much.”

“I love you two,” Thorax leaned forward and kissed Chrysalis on the lips. “Perhaps it’s best for us to rest for tonight? Save what little energy we have for our investigations.”

“Yes, good idea.” Together, the royal faelings retired to their cocoons, though Chrysalis didn’t get much sleep. To save the faeling race, she would have to think outside of the box, and that meant chasing down a legend said to be as old as time itself.

It was early the next morning when Chrysalis set out. She had woken up before Thorax, though she didn’t see it necessary to leave a note. After the previous night’s discussion, he’d more or less know where she was. Truth be told, she didn’t knowwhere to find her solution, if indeed the force involved could be found at all. The legends told of a powerful chimera—a god, even more ancient than her—who’s magic thrived off chaos and disorder. Discord was his name, and with the turmoil of the civil war showing no signs of slowing down, now was a perfect time to seek him out.

Upon Chrysalis’ recollection, there was a time when both faeling and pony ancestors worshipped Discord. Though she had no idea if the cult of chaos still existed, she did know her kin had retrieved artifacts from that era, found in the deep caverns below her hive. As such, she would need a guide, and she could think of no other faeling best suited for the job.

Frenulum, she transmitted telepathically. I’m in need of your services.

It took several minutes for Frenulum to arrive. She suffered from the same muscle atrophy as the rest of her kin. Chrysalis could already feel a heavy pang of guilt in her chest from forcing any faeling to work in such demanding conditions.

She did her best to push those feelings down. This was for the greater good, she reminded herself. If one faeling is to die this day, thousands of others may be saved.

“Yes, Matron Mother?” Frenulum said, her voice but a hoarse whisper.

“Thank you for coming,” Chrysalis began, embracing her in a gentle hug. “You are the renowned archaeologist within this hive, are you not?”

“I try my best, Matron,” Frenulum looked up at Chrysalis with a weak smile. “It is my passion to enrich the knowledge of the faeling race. I’m happy to be of use to you, of course, but what do you need, exactly?”

“I have…” Chrysalis chose her words carefully. While she was eager to inspire hope in her kin, she didn’t want it to be based on false promises. Her plan was a long shot, as for all she knew, Discord was just a myth, an avatar of chaos for less enlightened minds. But, on the off chance he was real, she wanted his gifts to be accepted with proud enthusiasm.

“I have become curious about our history,” she continued. “How did our ancestors deal with chaotic times? They, too, must have faced natural disasters, and found a way to deal with them. Perhaps their ruins can hold some solution to our ongoing crisis?”

“A fantastic idea, my Matron!” Frenulum beamed. “Sincerely, that is the heart of why I’m an archaeologist. To learn from the past and inform the future. I would be honoured to join you on this adventure.”

“I’m glad to hear,” Chrysalis gave a small bow. “Please, lead the way.”

The tunnels were connected at the base of the hive, the entrance excavated and connected with the ascending spiral walkway. It had been a long time since the tunnels were in active use, so there were no lights or markings to guide their way. Chrysalis had to maintain a glow spell, which was no easy task in her weakened state.

Every now and again, her magic would flicker, threatening to go out as her natural arcane reserves ran dry. Frenulum offered to use her magic instead, but Chrysalis refused. If her guide were to become exhausted, she would inevitably become lost soon after. The dedication of her kin was a minor sustenance, but it was enough to keep her going for now.

It took hours of searching, with each tunnel dividing into smaller pathways, but through Frenulum’s guidance, Chrysalis found her prize. An ancient monument, circular in nature, with pictograms carved into the stone to represent each animal which was part of the chimera. On the back wall, a large, stone tablet was hung, covered in what she presumed were letters of an ancient language.

“This is incredible!” Chrysalis exclaimed. “Have you been able to decode what the tablet says, Frenulum?”

“It has been some years, but I think I should be able…” Frenulum trotted over to the tablet, carefully examining the inscriptions to decode their meaning.

Meanwhile, Chrysalis took a moment to inspect the pictograms closer. They were not detailed drawings, but rather a series of simple lines that took the rough shape of the animal in question; much like the constellations. In addition, she noticed that the pattern changed depending on the angle. Comparing each symbol, she discovered that they were all interchangeable. Whether representing a ram, a dragon, or a pony, it was all dependent on from which perspective they were viewed from.

This cast her mind back to the words of Swift Nimbus. Like Pepper Spice, she was also a mother, lashing out at those she perceived to be her oppressors. The fact that Pepper was in the same situation seemed to be lost on her. The racial prejudice had blinded her to the truth, which only Chrysalis saw, being an objective outsider. Perhaps this was the legacy of Discord? If chaos worship ran in the family, they could still desire to control their chaotic reality – at least, when it was chaotic against them.

As much as Chrysalis empathised with the ponies’ position, she saw no justification for the atrocities committed. The gruesome images were still fresh in her mind. The route to her hive was littered with pony bodies from all three tribes, many mangled beyond recognition. Such was the hatred toward their fellow equines, no tribe was immune from defiling the fallen. She felt a fresh surge of bile rise in her throat, which took all her effort not to expel across the ritual circle. If she were to desecrate the shrine of Discord now, there would be no chance of summoning him.

“My Matron?” Frenulum’s voice cut through her mental haze. “Is everything alright, my Matron? You’re looking quite pale.”

“I will be okay,” Chrysalis replied, though she could feel her magic beginning to fade. “Have you decoded the tablet?”

“As much as I can, my Matron. The text is a bit faded, but from what I have deciphered, it says to present one of each animal depicted by the runes. With this offering and the call of his name, Discord shall appear."

“Then it appears we’re at an impasse,” Chrysalis sighed. “We don’t have a hope of finding enough animals in time, not in this weather. Unless…”

Frenulum blinked and tilted their head. “What is it, Matron?”

A spark of inspiration flashed in Chrysalis’ eyes. “Frenulum, can you stand in the middle of the circle?”

“Um… my Matron, what do you intend me to do?”

“You will be the offering of all animals! Please, transform into each one in the order I describe.”

“I’m not sure I can, my Matron,” Frenulum looked away. “I haven’t transformed in weeks. I don’t know if I have the strength to do it once, let alone multiple times.”

“Please, you have to try,” Chrysalis placed her hooves on Fenulum’s face, turning her to make eye contact. “It may be our last chance to save the faeling race.”

Frenulum gulped. “I… I can certainly try, my Matron. But I cannot guarantee results.”

“Anything you can do is good enough,” Chrysalis beamed. She was tantalizingly close to achieving her goal, she couldn’t back down now. “Please, hurry, I don’t know how much longer my light spell will last.”

With shaking hooves, Frenulum turned and stepped into the centre of the ritual circle. “I… await your instructions, my Matron.”

Chrysalis took a moment more to study the pictograms before deciding. “Alright, first, become the ram.”

Frenulum closed her eyes to focus, reaching deep inside of herself to draw on whatever magic she had. The transformation was not instantaneous, the green glow of her magic flickering as it struggled to reach ankle height. Her muscles tensed, and sweat poured from her brow as she strained to complete the spell.

“It’s no use!” Frenulum groaned. “I—ugh! I c-can’t hold it much longer!”

“Keep going!” Chrysalis urged, watching with bated breath as fae fire flashed around her. “You’re almost there, I can feel it!”

“I… I...” Frenulum’s magic was raising, but slowly, phasing her form right up to the base of her wings. But then, she hit her limit. Gasping for air, the light on Frenulum’s horn went out, and the spell began to reverse as her legs gave out from under her.

“No, no, no!” In a panic, Chrysalis lunged forward, shooting her light spell directly into Fernulum before they could hit the ground. Then, she stopped falling, suspended in mid-air through her matron’s magic.

“Frenulum? Frenulum, can you hear me?” Chrysalis shook her fallen kin, but she got no response. Her body just hung there, limp as a ragdoll.

Chrysalis feared the worst, but on closer inspection, Frenulum wasn’t dead. She was breathing slowly, her wide eyes kept open with a dark, green glow. She couldn’t explain why, but Chrysalis felt a small amount of strength return to her body. She gently lowered Frenulum to the ground, noticing something odd as she did so. Normally, she could freeze a pony-sized creature in the air, but no more than that. This time, however, she was able to manipulate Frenulum’s body like a puppet. Gently at first, she stood the faeling archaeologist up.

I wonder if… Chrysalis pondered the unfinished thought. She’d never considered such power before. After all, why would she? She tried to be a benevolent Princess, working with her kin to the best of their ability. She clenched her teeth. She had already breached that rule once today, and as she’d established plenty of times by now, this was the last hope for the faeling race.

It seems fate has decided for me. She only hoped Frenulum would forgive her once this was all over. Focusing, Chrysalis weaved her magic through her underling’s body, conjuring the image of a ram in her mind’s eye. Amplifying the residual power inside Frenulum, Chrysalis enveloped the faeling’s body in mystical fire and, like a sculptor with soft clay, warped and manipulated until it resembled that of a ram – spiral horns and all.

She didn’t stop there. Spurred on by the excitement over her success, she quickly moved on to the next animal, then the next, and the next after that. One after another, Frenulum was transformed, turning from pony, to dragon, to hawk, and so on. Even once she’d run out of animals, she didn’t stop. She couldn’t stop. The shrine’s magic had enraptured her, pushing her mind to repeat the cycle again and again.

Then, the transformations halted. Frenulum no longer resembled a faeling. Caught between her different forms, sparks of magic arched across her body.

“Frenulum?” Slowly, Chrysalis extended her hoof, not knowing if her kin was alive or dead.

The sparks ignited, erupting in a bright ball of fire that consumed the faeling’s body. Chrysalis leapt away, the powerful heat searing at her chitin as she hit the ground.

No sooner had it appeared, the flames flared out in a dazzling flash of light, finally revealing what the young faeling had become. The creature that emerged from the fireball was a being greater than the sum of its parts. It was the draconequs; Discord, God of Chaos.

“Oh, my goodness, that was a long nap!” Discord yawned, stretching his limbs. “I haven’t slept like that in millennia. In fact, it may have been a millennium since I was last awoken.”

Chrysalis was slightly taken aback. The ritual had worked. No longer just a myth from ages past, Discord was standing right there, as real in flesh and blood as any faeling could be.

“Ah, it seems I only have a single patron this time around,” Discord said, his voice swab and polite in contrast to his manic appearance. “Well? What would you have of me? Surely you didn’t go through all this trouble just to gawk, now would you?”

Chrysalis straightened her posture and cleared her throat. There was no turning back now. “My name is Chrysalis, Princess and Matron Mother to the faeling race. I have come to ask for your help.”

“Oh? Help, from me?” Discord looked up from filing his nails, twisting in the air to lean closer to Chrysalis with a sly grin growing across his face. “And here I thought mortal races didn’t trust me anymore. Little old Discord was too much of a bother, chaos no longer suiting their style. Yet here you are, full in the knowledge that my ways are, let’s say, complicated.”

Chrysalis fought to keep her expression neutral. When the alternative to chaos was death, she would gladly take chaos any day – though this did little to ease her anxiety. All she could do was push through those fears and work with whatever she was given.

“My race is dying,” she said, deciding that a blunt approach was best. No false pretences, just cold, hard facts. “We thrive off love and positive emotions from other races. For the longest time, this was enough. But now…” she paused, taking a moment to compose herself. “But now, a natural disaster has put tensions between ponies at an all-time high. From this endless winter, war has come. Tribe has turned against tribe, and my faelings are starving as a result. I have tried to talk to the ponies, tried to resolve whatever differences they have, but it’s no use. They’re too stubborn, they won’t listen to me.”

“And so, you beseech a higher power to be your knight in shining armour, correct?” Discord smirked, conjuring a set of silver plate armour to cover his torso and head, complete with a matching sword and shield. “However, I have a question for you, too, Princess.”

Chrysalis remained resolute, refusing to break eye contact with Discord. “Of course, you do. You want to know why you should help me, correct? What manner of deal would benefit you, as well as me?”

“Oh ho! Aren’t you such a clever little thing?” Discord’s voice was somewhere between mockery and admiration. With a snap of his fingers, his armour dissipated, replaced instead by a scholar’s cap and little reading classes. “Well, let’s cut to the chase, since you’ve figured everything out already. What do you offer?”

“Something very simple, actually,” Chrysalis grinned. It was time to seal the deal. “We faelings can become anything, given enough love to keep us going. If you help us, you will once more retain the title of a god, rather than just a forgotten legend. We will hold annual festivals in your honour, with games and tributes as chaotic as your heart desires! A grand, free-for-all celebration with you at the centre, as the saviour of the faeling race. How does this sound?”

Discord rubbed his chin with his talon. “You certainly know how to sweet-talk your way into a relationship.” Twirling his fingers, he broke off a lone stalactite, enveloping it in a small vortex of glowing, purple magic. In a flash, the rock was transformed, presented to Chrysalis as a three-pronged crown of solid jade.

As Chrysalis reached out to take the crown, its magic arced and shot through her body like a bolt of lightning. In an instant, she felt rejuvenated, the aches and pains of her fatigued muscles vanishing as the crown’s power restored her health. It was like no other magic she’d felt before, a force to finally put an end to all the pain and misery her kind had suffered at pony hooves.

“Well?” Discord asked, letting the crown falling into Chrysalis’ waiting hooves. “Why don’t you try it on?”

Chrysalis didn’t need to be told twice. Sitting down, she slowly lowered the crown on to her head. The moment it touched her, its magic flowed outwards, wrapping around her head like a headdress and granting her thick, armoured shells around her carapace and hooves.

“This… is incredible!” she gasped, the headdress and armour glowing with a radiant green light.

“Of course, it is!” Discord said smugly. “I made it, after all. But, as great as your new crown is, there is but one condition you must always follow.”

Chrysalis cocked an eyebrow. “And that would be?”

“It is very simple!” with another snap, Discord conjured a parchment and a self-writing quill. “You must sustain it as you sustain yourself. If you cease to feed, it will die along with you.”

Chrysalis rolled her eyes and scoffed. “Well obviously. I’m hardly stupid, you know!”

“Then do we have a deal?” Discord ushered his newly written contract over to Chrysalis.

“We have a deal,” she took the quill in her magic and wrote her name at the bottom. “Pleasure doing business with you, God of Chaos.”

“Indeed, it has been!” Discord cheered, clapping with excitement. “I have a feeling we shall see each other again very soon, Queen Chrysalis!” As quickly as he had arrived, Discord’s spirit vanished, his physical form leaving behind Frenulum’s twisted remains.

Kneeling before the body of her kin, Chrysalis released a mournful sigh. “I’m sorry, Frenulum,” she said. “I swear, your sacrifice will not be in vain. Thanks to you, the faeling race will be reborn, stronger than ever.”

Blasting the cave wall with her magic, Chrysalis used the broken rocks to form a makeshift grave for Frenulum. In truth, she only felt the smallest twinge of guilt for her loss. Whatever awaited her kin in the next life, she had a feeling she would understand the necessity of all that transpired this day.

As she turned to leave, the last words of Discord echoed through her mind. Queen Chrysalis, huh? She thought. I could get used to a title like that.

Twilight’s expression had turned progressively more sombre as Thorax recounted his tale. The fact that Discord was now involved complicated matters, especially from a textbook standpoint. This level of historical knowledge was meant to educate—to reflect on why events happen and learn from them—not to inspire fear.

They weren’t likely to encounter Discord often, and when they did, he’d almost certainly be with Fluttershy. This could help mitigate potential anxiety, but there was still a high likelihood for resentment without modern context. So, she decided to mark her notes, highlighting the specific paragraphs referring to Discord, with intent to add an addendum on the final draft. In addition to this, there was one other aspect of this history she needed to bring up.

“Just so you know, Thorax, I’ll be omitting some of the details about pony war crimes,” she said, keeping her tone matter of fact to avoid sounding accusatory. “Not to absolve them of guilt, of course. This textbook will be aimed at a high school level – you know, about Ocellus’ age. They’ll still understand how the events escalated, just without the gory specifics. Does that sound good to you?”

“Of course, it is,” Thorax replied, giving Twilight a sympathetic smile. “It’s your textbook, after all. I’m just giving you the facts to fill it with.”

“Well, yeah, I get that,” Twilight felt her cheeks flush a little. “But it’s also your history, and I don’t want to disrespect it.”

Thorax shook his head. “Don’t worry, you’re not doing that. To be honest, I wasn’t sure if I’d bring up the brutal violence to begin with. Princess Celestia has been in pony’s lives for generations, it’s hard to imagine a time without her. What’s the relevance of such violence when we’ve already moved past it?”

“Well, if Chancellor Neighsay…” Twilight gritted her teeth on mention of that name. That unicorn was more than just a pain in the backside. To undermine her core values was to undermine her job as a princess. She could write an entire essay on how destructive his attitude was, but she restrained herself. Thorax and changeling history were today’s focus, and getting side-tracked with old grudges would be a waste of time.

“I mean, if the school opening proves anything,” she continued, “It’s that prejudice toward non-pony races hasn’t gone away. With stuff like the Hearth’s Warming Eve play, it’s limited to a purely pony perspective. If I’m to fulfil my role as Princess of Friendship, then I need to open young minds to a truly multicultural view of history.”

Thorax rubbed his chin and hummed for a moment. “That gives me an idea, actually.”

Twilight cocked her head a little. “Huh?”

“If you have the time, why don’t you make two books instead? One can be a summarised version for your school, while the other can be the full story, bloody details and all.”

Twilight’s ears pricked up at the words ‘second book’. “Now you’re speaking my language!” she giggled. “I’ll do just that. You’ve gone through all this trouble, it’s only right for everypony else to know what I learned today—” she paused for a moment, stopping short of a full-on info dump. “If they can stomach it, of course.”

“It’s hard enough for most changelings, as it is,” Thorax looked down at his drink, his expression growing dark. “Chrysalis has fed those grisly images to generation after generation, leaving some with permanent mental scars. I wish I could block out their memories like they ask me to. It’d stop the constant nightmares for sure…”

“I hate to sound like a broken record,” Twilight said, reaching across the table to place her hoof over Thorax’s. “But, when I said we can stop at any time, I meant it. We’re here to document history, not put you on trial.”

“Thank you, Twilight,” Thorax looked back at her with a weak smile. “I can still pace myself.”

“If it makes any difference, I’ll pass on some of this info to Starlight. I know a Guidance Counselor is different to a regular therapist, but she might be able to offer a listening ear, if need be. I know she’ll understand.”

“That would help, yes. For now, I’m fine to press on with the interview. Chrysalis needed a guinea pig to test the crown’s power, and she had just the faeling for the job.”

Chapter 3

Chrysalis returned to her chambers with her head held high. Everything had gone exactly as she’d hoped. But more than that, the journey back had given her clarity. All that was left was to tell Thorax all about her plans, and she could, at last, save the faeling race. She found him in the throne room, waiting for her.

“Ah, my love, there you are!” he threw his arms open to embrace Chrysalis in a hug. “I have exciting news for you!”

“As do I,” Chrysalis returned the hug, giving him a small nuzzle. “The ritual was successful! I finally have the means to feed our kin.”

“That’s amaz— wait, what ritual?” Thorax looked at Chrysalis with a blank expression.

“I summoned Discord! Alas, Frenulum died in the process, but her sacrifice has granted me power beyond my wildest imagination.”

Thorax shuffled in discomfort. “You… how can you talk of killing one of our own with such… such frivolity? I don’t know what Discord has done to you, but our population has dwindled so much already—”

“No, listen,” Chrysalis silenced him with a raised hoof, her crown glowing in response to her heightened emotion. There was neither malice nor anger in her tone. “I did not intend for Frenulum to die. Of course, the loss of any faeling is tragic. That’s why I used the word ‘sacrifice’, specifically. One falls so all others may rise!”

“I suppose…” Thorax said meekly, breaking eye contact. “Tell me, then, what is this new power Discord has given you?”

Chrysalis was sure he already knew, but told him anyway. “It’s this crown. It takes the form of a headdress and armour now, but I can feel its magic flowing through me, rejuvenating me! With this new magic, we can finally take the love that is rightfully ours, no matter what the savage ponies do to each other.”

“Stealing love?!” Thorax’s jaw dropped, his eyes widened. “Impossible! We can’t just force ponies to love us. I-it doesn’t work that way. Besides, this is chaos magic we’re dealing with. Who knows what side effects Discord has cursed us with?”

“Side effects?” Chrysalis’ eye twitched. “Side effects?! See for yourself, Thorax! I haven’t felt this healthy in months. Feel how smooth my chitin is, the fullness of my belly. Does this look like a negative side effect to you?”

“No, you misunderstand!” Thorax pleaded. “I’m referring to long term effects. Chaos magic has never been used like this before. How do you know it won’t poison us? And what about the ponies whom we drain love from? When they find out, it’ll just amplify tensions further, making both the war, and the long winter, so much worse. All our attempts at mediation will have been for nought!”

“How much worse can it get?” Chrysalis scoffed, shaking her head. “Their wars are driving us to extinction. I’ve tried to reason with them, believe me, I’ve tried. But they just won’t listen! They do not, cannot comprehend the level of pain they’re inflicting on us. They don’t see love as we do, Thorax. If they won’t cease this bloody, hopeless war, then this is the one chance we have to secure, not just our future, but the future of all faeling kind. We and only we can decide how to do that.”

Thorax opened his mouth to retort, but none came. What had Discord done to Chrysalis? Where was the kind, resourceful and gentle faeling mother gone? “No!” he said at last. “I can’t allow this – we can’t allow this. I know you’re desperate, as we all are. But stealing love? That’s a line we should never cross.”

Chrysalis glared at Thorax, her expression growing darker. “You fool,” she sneered. “Your naivety will be the death of us all.”

Despite his trembling hooves, Thorax stood tall, puffing out his chest. “I know the ponies will see sense once they’re confronted with the truth. As much as it pains me to say this, Chrysalis, I must ask you to stay away from the pony settlements, while I finalize plans for the next delegation. Ponies are not our enemy, so we mustn’t turn them against us.”

Chrysalis gritted her teeth, a brief flare of magic building on the tip of her horn. However, she soon relented, relaxing her posture, and taking a deep breath. “Alright,” she said at last. “I won’t go anywhere near the pony settlements. I will turn my attention to the faelings within our hive, at least until your business is concluded.”

Thorax breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you, my love. Trust me, once we identify the source of this endless blizzard, we can all return to our former selves.”

But Chrysalis wasn’t listening. She had already turned her back on Thorax, walking out of the throne room. Of course I won’t be meeting with any ponies, she thought, chuckling under her breath. I have others to do that for me.

The landscape of pony settlements had been in flux for months, but there was one city which remained constant throughout the pre-unification war: Old Trottingham. Perched on the eastern coast’s magnificent white cliffs, it had the largest unicorn population anywhere on the continent.

A perfect place for Chrysalis to begin her experiment.

Besides her promise to Thorax, she had another reason not to go herself. If her disguise broke, a lone faeling wouldn’t be an unusual sight. The sight of a Princess, however, would attract too much attention. Instead, she contacted a resident faeling, Arista, to carry it out on her behalf. The goal was simple: draw out the love from ponies by any means necessary. She, of course, accepted with no objections. Like all faelings, they were starving and desperate.

For Arista, they took the form of an elderly grey mare, draped in a simple ragged cloak to conceal their features, granting them all the anonymity needed to scout potential targets.

“If ponies are too stubborn to listen to our please,” their Matron Mother had said, “Then we will exploit their hubris and perhaps teach them a lesson.” They couldn’t agree more. The ponies could destroy each other for all they cared! Those who saw the bigger picture would thrive in their absence.

Arista’s opportunity arose not long after arriving, overhearing a conversation outside a small café. The prognosis for the city’s oldest mare was not looking good. Pushing Daisies was her name, and if the chatter was to be believed, she had less than two weeks left to live. Well, what better to spur a fresh surge of love than for her to miraculously survive?

There was one problem, however. Could they wait the two weeks it would take for the old mare to die? Chrysalis would certainly be waiting on her report back, while every day that passed, another faeling would die of starvation. Chrysalis’ magic had given Arista a temporary boost, but it didn’t abate their own hunger entirely. They felt her stomach give a deep rumble. When was the last time they’d fed on love? They couldn’t remember.

The alternative solution was hardly any easier. Could they really kill an innocent old mare to prolong their own life? The very concept of murder made their chitin crawl. They could find somepony else to mimic and feed on. Perhaps a long-lost child who was murdered at the hooves of pegasi? Given the circumstances, there was bound to be a few ponies like that somewhere.

They felt their stomach rumble again, louder this time. No, they couldn’t wait any longer. Chrysalis’ magic wouldn’t last forever, and this city was brimming with so much love, they were salivating at the thought alone. It was a bitter form of love, one of nationalistic grandeur and self-importance towards one’s own kind. The earth ponies weren’t kidding; unicorns were the most stuck-up of the three tribes.

Arista had made their decision. Luckily for them, the two mares were still outside the café. They listened for a bit longer, just enough to gain more info about the dying mare’s friends and family. All they needed was a name, and once they got it, they snuck into a shaded back alley, discarded their cloak, and transformed.

When she emerged, Arista had assumed the form of another elderly mare, this one with a yellow coat and a short, white mane. Approaching the younger mares, they cleared their throat and said, “Excuse me.”

The mare on the right, a pink pony with a cream-coloured mane and a strawberry cutie mark, turned to look at Arista first. “Can I help you?”

“Sorry to bother you,” Arista said with a slow, gentle voice, paying close attention to their vocal fry. “My name is Flourishing Flowers. I couldn’t help but overhear you discussing my dear old friend, Pushing Daisies. I hear her health is failing her.”

“Oh,” said the second, peach-coated mare. She pushed back her amber bangs to reveal a sombre expression. “I’m sorry, we meant no disrespect. She’s actually my great aunt, so I understand how you must feel.”

“That’s quite alright,” Arista let out a small sigh. “I suppose the end comes for us all, in time. But I shall not trouble you fine mares for long. I’d just like to know where she’s being looked after, so I might see her face one last time.”

“Of course,” replied the peach-coloured mare, pushing her chair back and rising to her hooves. “We can show you the way, if you’d like.”

Arista shook their head. “That’s awful kind of you, but I can make it there okay. I just need directions.”

“I’ll write them down for you,” the Strawberry mare reached for her saddle bag. Unlatching the cover, she pulled out a small notebook and a pencil, scribbling down the rough directions with her magic. “Here you go. She’s currently residing in the Greater Trottingham Care Home. It’s a bit of a trek from here, but if you follow the landmarks noted, you’ll be there in no time.”

“Thank you so much,” Arista took the piece of paper in her magic, briefly studying the notes before folding it up. “I will pass on your well wishes to Daisies. She’s so lucky to have such kind and supportive relative like yourself. If only the other pony tribes were as considerate.”

“You’re very welcome,” the peach-coloured mare blushed, rubbing the back of her head. “And yeah, I agree. The dirt lovers and featherbrains are always scrapping for a fight. That sort of behaviour would never get far in a Unicorn school!”

The strawberry mare cleared her throat. “But that’s for us young ponies to worry about. You take focus on taking care of yourself, okay?”

“You too, dearies. Goodbye for now.” Bowing their head, Arista made their way downhill, maintaining their disguise to avoid any unwanted suspicion.

It took around ten minutes to reach Daisies’ house, and when they got there, they noticed a small ambulance wagon situated outside. Perfect timing, they thought, stepping into the shadows once more to transform.

When Arista emerged, they had taken the appearance of a nurse: a white unicorn with a blood bag for a cutie mark – not dissimilar to the other nurses working that day. As soon as one stepped out to pick up extra supplies, she casually trotted by, testing the effectiveness of her disguise.

The unicorn nurse didn’t react. As far as she was concerned, this was just another colleague going about their business. That was phase one complete. Phase two was providing a big enough distraction so that, when it came time to do the deed, they wouldn’t be noticed. If anypony were to catch them in the act, the consequences would be dire.

The care home itself wasn’t all that big. It was an averaged size, two-story house, the bottom of which held the patient’s bedrooms. As such, it didn’t take Arista long to find their primary target, in addition other potential victims for extra mischief.

As another nurse exited the room, Arista looked down at the clipboard attached to the door ahead of her, scanning through the notes. From the corner of their eye, they saw the nurse scribbling something on her own, likely updating a patient’s record. She briefly glanced their way, but otherwise didn’t question their presence.

Once she turned her back, Arista slipped into the room, gently closing the door behind them. Ahead of her, a withered old stallion lay face-up in bed, sound asleep, his gentle breathing timed to a strange, clockwork mechanism. On closer inspection, it looked to be a form of artificial lung, working in tandem with an enchanted bag, expanding and contracting with each breath taken. Completing the machine was a leather belt, connecting the two halves via a slow, rotating wheel.

Wow. Talk about overly complicated, Arista thought. I wonder what would happen if I threw a spanner in the works? With a flick of their wrist, they yanked the belt off the wheel and shoved it between the cogs, jamming the mechanism.

The stallion’s eyes shot open as he sat up suddenly, gasping for air. Grabbing the emergency bell from the bedside table, Arista burst out of the room, furiously ringing it in their magic.

“Help, help!” they yelled. “Emergency! Machine jam in room 101! Patient critical!”

Five nurses came galloping down the hall, bolting past Arista without a second thought. With their attention now focused on the stallion, the faeling could finally take care of Daisies.

As quietly as they could, they pushed open the last door on the left and slipped inside. Arista felt their heart thumping loudly in their chest. Could they really go through with this? They’d never so much as swatted a fly, let alone killed a pony.

They shook their head. There was no time for doubts. This mare was already on her deathbed—both literally and metaphorically—so what difference would it make? In fact, they were doing their family a favour. Who wouldn’t want to see a beloved great aunt shrugging off a terminal illness, as if blessed by gods? Even if it was a lie, it was a lie that benefited everyone, pony and faeling alike.

Pushing Daises sat up in bed slowly, reaching for her glasses. “What’s all the ruckus about?”

“Don’t worry, Miss Daisies,” Arista said with a false smile of reassurance. “I’m just here to check a few things. Just relax and let me take care of everything.”

“Well, I suppose…” Daisies set her glasses back down. Arista guessed she was nearsighted, but still recognised the vague outline of a nurse. “I was tryna get some shuteye here, before all the noise started.”

“Well, now that you mention it...” Arista transformed, regained the form of Flourishing Flowers and stepped into Daisies’ field of vision. “I can’t stay for long, but I do have something to give you.”

“Say what? Give me?” Daisies said hesitantly. “Wait... haven’t I seen you somewhere? You look awfully familiar.”

“Surely you recognise your old pal, Flourishing Flowers, don’t you?” Arista pressed, again imitating a ragged voice. “I came all this way to see you, and they wouldn’t let me in! Can you believe the nerve of these young unicorns?”

“Well, they do take good care o’ me, but I suppose they can be a little snooty—” Daisies broke into a harsh coughing fit.

“Don’t stress yourself out, darlin’,” Arista was beside the bed now. It was now or never. “It’ll all be over soon.”

In one motion, they pulled a cushion off the bed and lunged, pressing it against the old mare’s face. She tried to resist, squirming to find her hooves with a muffled cry, but it was no good. Her strength failed. Too frail to resist, Pushing Daisies’ limbs went limp, her heart slowing to a gradual stop.

They’d done it. They’d killed a pony. Adrenaline was pumping through their veins, and it felt exhilarating, thoughthey weren’t sure where this satisfaction came from. Was it the act of killing itself? Or was it over their scheme coming to fruition? Either way, there was no time to celebrate. Before she could assume the identity of Pushing Daisies, she had to hide the body. It wouldn’t be long before the nurses returned to check on her.

Glancing around for a suitable spot, Arista noticed how low the mattress was on the bed. Low enough to fit something under it, without that something poking at the sleeper above. It would do for now. She’d find a better place to bury the body later, preferably before the staff released Daisies from their care. So, Arista became Daisies and pulled the body off the bed. It landed on the floor with a thump, which they hoped nopony heard.

Alas, it was heard. Heavy hoofsteps were already coming her way. With haste, they pulled in the dead mare’s limbs, crossed them, and rolled the corpse under the bed just in time for a nurse to arrive.

“Come in, dearie!” Arista called, spinning round to greet the nurse. She had a sombre look on her face. Had Arista killed the old stallion as well? They certainly didn’t intend to. The place was so small, they were sure they’d fix the machine with time to spare.

“Miss Daisies, what are you doing out of bed?” The nurse said, speaking to Arista in a tone more akin to a naughty child than an elderly mare. “Please, you need rest. You don’t want to make your condition worse.”

“Condition? Ha! No condition can keep a mare like me down,” she beat her chest with a hoof. “I’ve never felt better!”

The nurse tried not to roll her eyes. “Please, Miss Daisies. It’s our responsibility to look after you while you’re ill. Aren’t you looking forward to your family visit?”

“I’m serious, I really feel fantastic! Heck, I’ll go to them myself and prove it to ya.”

“Daisies, please be reasonable. You’re very weak right now, you’d never make it. I must insist, don’t make it harder on yourself.”

“Well, why don’t ya get one of those young’n doctors to come an’ check me out?” Arista leaned back and flexed her muscles. “I ain’t no feeble Pegasus pony! Since when could a ‘weakling’ do this?”

Effortlessly, Arista grabbed the bedside lantern in their magic, tossing it in the air and catching between their front hooves. As if to emphasise the point, they grabbed an additional two pillows from the bed, juggling the three objects in her magic.

The nurse’s eye twitched. Arista had seen that look before. It was a look that said, ‘I didn’t sign up for this shit.’ She didn’t vocalise it, of course, and instead just sighed and rubbed her temple. “Look, if you really insist, then I’ll ask the doctor to check up on you in the morning. But could you please rest for tonight, at least?”

Arista dropped the pillows. “Alright, fine. But you’d better be keepin’ your promises, missy. ‘Cause if my family find out I’m alive and you’re holdin’ me up in here, they ain’t gonna like it, let me tell ya!”

“Alright, alright, I get it,” the nurse gritted her teeth, trying hard not to snap. “I’ll be back in an hour, okay? If you’re in bed by then, I’ll call the doctor first thing.”

With that, the nurse turned to leave, gently closing the door behind her. Arista wondered why she didn’t believe them straight away. To their knowledge, mares with terminal illnesses didn’t randomly start juggling to prove their wellness. Then again, she couldn’t recall exactly what Pushing Daisies suffered from, not that it mattered. Once they got a clean bill of health, they’d be out of here. All they had to do was rest for one night, and after that, she could feast on ponies’ love to their heart's content.

But there was one thing that still gnawed at Arista’s mind. Was the elderly stallion on life support alright? They made a mental note to check before they left the care home. For all they knew, he could still recover, given time. There was no denying their actions had possibly set back his recovery, or worse. They felt a chill shoot down their spine, the guilt sitting in their gut like a stone. Maybe they were going too far.

They thought back to the words of their Matron Mother. The first half of Chrysalis’ instructions were crystal clear: “Fool them by any means necessary.” The second part, however, was a little muddier. They didn’t know why, but they struggled to recall their matron’s exact words. Something about savage ponies, denying her kind their rightful place.

No, Arista thought. That can’t be it, she wasn’t that harsh. Was she…?

The thought made their head hurt. Deception was a business they’d have to get used to. Perhaps it would be best to sleep on the matter. Maintaining her facade, she climbed into bed, pulled over the covers and blew out the light.

As they drifted off to sleep, their thoughts turned to the mare they’d just killed. Goodnight, Pushing Daisies, and thank you.

Twilight paused the interview to boil some more tea. At this point, she’d written over fifty pages worth of notes, and there were still gaps in her knowledge that needed filling. She’d lost any resemblance of impartiality. Now, she was hanging on Thorax’s every word, captivated by every twist and turn it took.

A lesser mare would think she was being enchanted, an age-old changeling trick to generate sympathy. Thankfully, Twilight knew better. Thorax had revealed so many personal thoughts on his race’s history. When describing faelings as great helpers in times of need, his voice was elated; he spoke with sympathetic sighs over Chrysalis’ conundrum; and, of course, the bitter disgust at what she made her underlings do. Desperation could drive any creature to extreme decisions, and Twilight felt guilty over the ponies’ role in it all.

The last thing she’d asked Thorax, prior to the break, was an approximate date for the unfolding events. If he was correct, then this was but a couple of years off from the first Hearth’s Warming Eve. If her ancestors had realized the harm they caused sooner, the Equestria of today would be a vastly different place. That was the ultimate irony.

As soon as the kettle whistled to life, Twilight grabbed it in her magic and made a beeline to her study, where Thorax greeted her.

“Welcome back, Twilight. That smells—”

“So, Thorax,” Twilight cut him off, all but slamming the teapot down on the table before burying her face in her notes. “Tell me how your ancestor reacted to all this once he found out. Did he intervene immediately?”

“Twilight, I—”

“Did other Changelings disagree with Chrysalis?”

“Twilight…”

“And what about the remaining Changelings in pony society? Did the pony tribes ever notice their absence or—”

“Twilight!”

Thorax’s booming voice cut through her defences. This was the first time she’d seen him angry, an emotion she didn’t know he had. An awkward silence fell between them, lasting a good ninety seconds before he spoke up again.

“Twilight,” Thorax began. “I’m a Changeling, I’m not stupid. You don’t go centuries feeding on emotions without recognising when something’s wrong. Please, forget the interview for a moment and tell me what’s wrong.”

Twilight sighed, setting down her notepad and quill. “Is it that obvious?”

“I’ve not known you for long, Twilight,” Thorax grinned. “But I can still read you like a book. I get how important this interview is, to both you and to Changeling kind. But it can’t come at the expense of another’s mental health, not again.

“Besides, you said it yourself,” Thorax transformed into an exact copy of Twilight. “I’m serious when I said we can stop at any time. We’re here to document history, not put you on trial.”

Twilight giggled, both at the impression and the one acceptable use of pony mimicry. “Yeah, you have a point. I guess all this dark history is a lot to take in. If I’m going to write a full book about it, then it’ll be confronting harsh truths for other ponies as well. They might listen to me because of my authority as a Princess, but I’m worried it’ll come across as Changeling propaganda.”

Thorax transformed and sat back down. “There’s no pleasing some ponies. I won’t lie, when Spike found me in that ice cave, I was worried about the same thing. The guards were in high alert, after all. But it’s thanks to both of you that I’m here today. Did we convince everypony right away? Of course not. But enough ponies gave me a chance. I know they’ll do the same for your book, even if it is a bitter pill to swallow.”

Twilight exhaled slowly, pouring herself some more tea. “I guess I’ve always had a bit of an inferiority complex,” she said, taking a sip. “I try my best to live up to lofty standards, but sometimes I move the goalposts for myself. After learning so much about Chrysalis and the pre-unification civil war, I feel like, as the Princess of Friendship, it’s my duty to learn from history and do better, myself. I can only hope my Friendship School is achieving that.”

Thorax smiled. “Well, from what Ocellus tells me, it’s more than succeeding. It’s thriving! She couldn’t be happier with her young friends. Her lineage is relatively young, so she doesn’t have many memories outside of the hive collective. Her earliest memories are of the attempted Canterlot invasion.

“Thanks to your school, she’s been smiling more than ever before, gushing to me in every letter about her love for other cultures’ histories! Even if bigots are an inevitable part of life, multiculturalism is the foundation of your school, which will carry on for generations to come.”

Twilight felt her cheeks flush. To receive such a glowing review from the leader of Changelings was a pretty big deal. “Thank you, Thorax,” she said with an awkward chuckle. “I suppose you’ve practiced telling ponies what they need to hear, huh? Not in a malicious way, or course, I know you’re not being deceptive, I just meant that because of your history, you know how to talk to ponies in a way that gets them invested which you can now use for the betterment of all—”

“Twilight, you’re rambling,” Thorax interrupted, holding back a smirk. “No offence taken, by the way. Don’t worry.”

“Oh, of course,” Twilight’s cheeks grew brighter. “Anyway, are you okay to continue the interview?”

“Yes, I am,” Thorax replied, pouring himself a fresh cup and taking a deep breath. “There’s one more part of this story left to tell, which is Chrysalis’ ultimate downfall.”

Chapter 4

From that point on, faelings slowly began to disappear from public life. Many were reluctant to take on pony disguises, but they soon enough relented. After all, beggars couldn’t be choosers when their entire race was on the verge of starvation. As the months went by, with winter’s fury unabated, the ponies continued to fight.

Though the pony tribes had no love for each other, their ego was as strong as ever, ballooned by competition over superiority. Like Arista, most faelings found this love to be vastly different to their normal diet. It had a bitter taste, and it was much less filling than the love for one’s friends, family, or significant others. But it was better than nothing.

Chrysalis did her best to hide this from Thorax. For a while, she placated his feeble attempts at peace negotiations. All it took was a few token phrases: an ‘I believe in you’ here, and ‘you will always be loved’ there. His love kept her going, but she knew it couldn’t last forever. What a fool he was, preaching about peace to deaf ears and closed minds. He would sooner break himself than give up on this wild goose chase.

So, on the one-year anniversary of the Discord pact, Chrysalis decided it was time to push her dearly beloved in the right direction. Thorax was always strict with his schedules, leaving to commence talks, then returning at the exact same times each day. With this knowledge, Chrysalis could set the perfect trap.

The route Thorax took was a deliberate choice. He always passed by the battlefield located around three hundred meters from the hive. Why he did this, Chrysalis didn’t know, though it made little difference. What she was after lay scattered about it, amongst the mutilated corpses of the ponies who fought and died for their selfish cause. It didn’t take long for her to find her prize. Claiming a pair of daggers from a dead Pegasus mare, Chrysalis quickly took the pony’s identity as her own. Now all she needed to do was wait in the shadows for Thorax’s return.

To add to her disguise, she made sure to mimic the pony’s clothes as well. It was a simple outfit, consisting of a black tunic and matching face-scarf, granting more protection from the weather than enemy weapons. Like most combatants, the pony had not been a trained soldier. No, she was one of the many peasants, drafted into a war of her own kind’s creation. Chrysalis didn’t know nor care why the mare fought. The dead unicorns lying close to her were answer enough.

Upon returning to the hive, Chrysalis chose her spot carefully. It had to be somewhere that Thorax wouldn’t see right away, but also a place he thought was safe. It didn’t take her long to find the perfect place. Just beyond the doors to the royal chambers, there was lightless ground on the pathway above, where a bioluminescent lamp had burst. Such failures were not uncommon, so Chrysalis was certain he wouldn’t give it a second thought.

Like clockwork, Thorax returned, his head hung low as he approached the royal chamber. From the darkness, Chrysalis watched. The moment Thorax opened the doors to their full swing, she dropped, landing behind him in perfect synchronicity with his own hoof steps.

Then, at the last possible moment, she lunged and yelled, “Glory to Cloudsdale!”

She thrust the dagger forth, but her angle was off, too shallow to penetrate. Thorax spun around, reflexively smacking his forehoof into Chrysalis, knocking her halfway across the throne room. Her disguise faded before she even hit the ground.

“Chrysalis?!” Thorax exclaimed, rushing over to his lover’s side. “W-what are you doing? I don’t understand… Why did you attack me, as a pony no less?!”

Thorax offered her a hoof up, but she just smacked it aside, crawling back to her throne while hissing like a feral beast. “Stay away from me, you coward!”

“Chrysalis I—” he choked, fighting back tears. “What’s gotten into you? You’ve been acting so reclusive lately, and… it’s eating me up inside! Have you been feeling alright? Your body’s looking ill, you’ve lost so much of your natural shine! Is this what Discord’s magic has done to you? Oh, my goodness, this must be the result of his curse.”

Chrysalis looked down at her forelegs. Indeed, her chitin’s colour had been fading lately. It was the same for all her kin – or, at least, the ones who’d been feeding through deception. Where once shined bright purples and greens, now there was just a flat, greyish black tone.

“No!” she spat, slamming her hoof on the arm of her throne. “Discord would never betray me. We had a deal! We’ve been starved for so long, it’s no wonder we look unwell. While you’ve wasted time with pointless talks, our kin have been dying, and it was through my actions alone that we have been saved from the brink of extinction! If we had your way, we would all be dead already.”

“No! This… this isn’t right,” Thorax yelled through gritted teeth, yet he couldn’t make eye contact. “I know what you’ve been doing, Chrysalis. You’ve been teaching our kin to deceive, to steal, to play with ponies’ emotions. You’re treating them like cattle to be milked! I know times are hard, but I feel I’m making real progress with my negotiations. If I could just convince them to research windigo magic together—”

Chrysalis scoffed, then chuckled, then burst into full-on laughter. “You actually believe the ponies would cooperate over, what, an old mare’s tale? A myth from an age before the understanding of weather magic? Thorax, my dear, you are even dumber than I thought!”

Thorax recoiled. “There’s nothing mythical about it! I’ve seen them, they’re just as the legends describe. Besides, you thought Discord was just a legend until recently, right? If you let me share my memory, I’ll prove Windigo's existence to you.”

Chrysalis shook her head and sighed. “I tried to do this the easy way. If you would just abandon your foolish, stubborn trust in the pony race, I would’ve been proud to call you my prince—no, my king!”

Thorax felt a cold sweat trickle down the side of his face. “What do you mean?”

Chrysalis rose to her hooves, standing tall as she walked towards him. “You see, my dear, we cannot remain static in our approach to survival. For us to live these troubled times, we must evolve, adapt… We must change. No longer can we rest on our laurels and expect the universe to bend to our will. From this day forward, we must embrace our power to change and become Changelings."

Thorax didn’t reply. What could he say to that? His expression told Chrysalis everything she needed to know. His hung open mouth, the fear in his eyes, he thought she’d gone mad. Well, perhaps she had? But if madness were what it took to protect her kin, then forever mad she would be!

“I…” Thorax began, struggling for words. “I can’t let you do this. Exploiting ponies, stealing love… the faeling kind will not stand for this! They will know what you’re doing, and—”

A bolt of searing green magic finished his sentence. Chrysalis’ shot had pierced his heart, leaving a searing hole where the organ once was. With a strangled gasp, he slumped to the ground.

Chrysalis panted heavily. “No, Thorax!” she cried. “Why— what have I done? I didn’t mean…” She cringed, her horn throbbing with pain like she’d never felt before. Part of her still wanted to save Thorax, but it was obvious he was already dead. She had to rest.

Leaving the throne room, she stumbled toward her bedchambers. Once there, she patted down her horn to check for any injuries, expecting just a small magic burn. What she felt was more than that. Her horn was crooked, re-shaped into a sharp zigzag that looked, to her eyes, like a lightning bolt.

And yet, Chrysalis smiled. She had just impulsively slain her mate, yet she felt neither guilt nor remorse. She recalled what she’d said about Frenulum, “One falls, so others may rise.” That was exactly what she’d done. She’d removed the final obstacle between her and rightful destiny. She was the saviour of the Changeling kind, not Thorax. If nothing else, this situation justified one more round of bellowing, maniacal laughter.

Over the next year, Chrysalis worked tirelessly to establish her new Changeling matriarchy. All those who refused to follow her way were banished, cast out into the frozen wasteland with a simple choice; conform or die. Out of those who survived, it was no surprise they came crawling back to the hive, begging their queen for a second chance.

Like her, the bright colours of Chrysalis’ kin were now little more than a faded memory. But she didn’t care. By all outward appearances, they were in good health. If all she had to worry about was a bit of discolouration, then the future of her race was looking bright. At the end of another long day, Chrysalis was reviewing some of her written plans, deciding which pony settlement to invade next.

“My queen, my queen!” a young Changeling suddenly burst into her throne room, dragging behind him a heavy sack. It was Thorax II, Chrysalis’ first new offspring since renaming her kind. “Look what I’ve got!”

Chrysalis looked up from her papers. “Oh? What have you found, youngling?”

“I now present you…” he grinned. Pulling the sack’s string loose, he overturned it and revealed a young foal: an earth pony, light brown in colour, who’s hooves were bound together with rope. “…Our first love captive!”

Chrysalis’ eyes went wide in shock, the loose papers falling from her magic.

“Let me go!” the filly squirmed against her restraints, glaring daggers at Thorax. “I swear, when I get my hooves on you, I’m gonna knock your bucking teeth out!”

Despite the foul language she used, Chrysalis immediately recognised the voice. Since the last time they met, she had grown and found her cutie mark — a crossed pair of
sickles — but there was no mistaking it. This was Pumpkin Spice, the orphaned daughter of Pepper Spice, the last pony to ever show love to the Changeling queen.

“You…” Chrysalis began. Her right eye twitched, and her lips curled back into a snarl, but Thorax didn’t seem to notice.

“I did good, my Queen, yes?” he puffed out his chest. “No need to sneak if ponies remain captured here. My plan is clever!”

“You fool!” Chrysalis snapped, making both Thorax and Pumpkin cower in fear. “You’re supposed to tell me of plans before you enact them! When the ponies find out a foal has been kidnapped, they’ll be out for blood. In case you haven’t noticed, they’ve been at each other’s throats for years now. What do you think they’ll do to us, once they find out it was us who took their precious child?!”

“I… but… my queen…” Thorax stammered, tripping over his words.

“SILENCE!” Chrysalis’ booming voice echoed throughout the chamber, her face twisted in a rage that was new, even to her. Shooting to her hooves, she fired a beam of magic into Thorax’s horn, her enchantment searing through his mind like a red-hot branding iron. A moment later, he collapsed, grasping his head in his hooves as he rolled on the ground, writhing in agony. Pumpkin could do little except stare, the colour draining from her face as she watched the horror before her unfold.

Chrysalis panted heavily. She’d expended a fair bit of magic with that spell, and now she had a potential witch-hunt on her hooves. To make matters worse, her head was once more throbbing like no tomorrow, her vision going blurry as the room appeared to spin around her.

Just as she was about to collapse, a pair of Changeling guards burst through the door. “My Queen!” they exclaimed together, discarding their spears, and rushing to the matron’s side.

When Chrysalis’ vision cleared, she noticed Pumpkin Spice narrowing her eyes at her. “You!” she gasped. “I remember you! You’re Chrysalis, Princess of the Faelings! What… what’s happened to you? What’s going on?”

“Be quiet!” Chrysalis growled, her guards lowering her back onto her throne. “The faelings you knew are no more, dead by the hooves of pony kind.”

“B-but, you can’t be Chrysalis! Your colours, your horn—”

“Enough of this!” She instantly regretted raising her voice, her headache doubling in force. “Guards! Cocoon these two and throw them in the dungeon. I will decide what to do with them later.”

The guards saluted, grabbing both Thorax and Pumpkin by the hooves and dragging them out of the room.

“Wait, Princess!” Pumpkin screamed, trying in vain to wriggle free of her bindings. “This isn’t like you, you’re better than this. Listen to me, please, Princess!”

“Wait!” at Chrysalis’ command, the guards halted.

“My queen?” One guard tilted their head.

Chrysalis limped toward Pumpkin and knelt before her, sliding her hoof under her chin. “I told you before,” she said in a soft, condescending voice. “The Princess you know is dead, as are the faelings. As for those of us who remain? We are the Changelings, and I am their queen. Remember this, and listen well: no matter how much you disgusting creatures come to fear us, we will always be around, ready and waiting to consume the love we rightfully deserve. For now, enjoy your nap, little one!”

If Pumpkin Spice said more, Chrysalis didn’t hear. She was going to enjoy feeding off the fiery little munchkin’s love, but for now, she was also in need of a nap.

Sleep did not come easy to Chrysalis. It hadn’t since she claimed sole rulership over the Changeling kind. She put this down to a combination of stress and additional workload, but that didn’t explain tonight’s restlessness. No matter how much she tossed and turned, she couldn’t find a comfortable position to relax in.

By all accounts, tonight she would be denied even the smallest amount of microsleep – the barest minimum she needed to feel rested. Kicking off the covers, she summoned a small amount of magic to light her bedside candle. If her body refused to switch off, then she’d make productive use of her time. That was until her eyes adjusted to the flame’s dim light. Looking down at her legs, she let out an ear-piercing scream of horror.

There were holes in her legs. Not wounds, for there was no blood spilled on her sheets or the floor. It was like an animal had bitten her, taking large chunks of her flesh away with it.

How did this happen?! Chrysalis wondered. She hadn’t been in any fights recently, aside from killing Thorax – but that just affected her horn. Checking the sheets, she found no evidence of maggot infestation, though this also seemed improbable. If insects were gnawing away at her flesh, she’d have noticed at least some form of irritation by now.

She spread her wings to get a better look, noticing that they, too, looked tattered. Turning back to her bedside table, she fumbled for her crown – but it was nowhere to be seen. It was then she remembered how woozy she’d been in the throne room. In her exhausted state, she had forgotten to remove it. Dropping the candle, she slowly patted her hooves over her head, confirming that her crown was indeed still there. Somehow, it had fused to her head, held in place by a rough layer of chitin. At this point, there could be no more doubts over who was responsible.

“Discord!” she bellowed. “Show yourself, you’ve got some explaining to do, monster!”

From the smouldering candlewax, a wisp of smoke rose toward the Changeling queen, morphing into the silhouetted outline of the familiar Draconequs. As if to mock her, he appeared to be wearing some form of nightcap.

“Will you keep it down, up there?” Discord yawned. “Some of us are trying to get their beauty rest.”

“What have you done to me?!” Chrysalis snapped. She swiped at the outline, as if to smack the chaos god, but her hoof just went straight through. “What curse have you put upon me, on my crown?! Speak, or I’ll—”

“You’ll what, Princess?”

She couldn’t be certain, but Chrysalis swore she saw a smug grin on Discord’s lips.

“You’ll sacrifice another disposable minion, just so you can beat me up? Admit it, you’re powerless against a god of chaos. The thought must drive you mad!”

Chrysalis snarled and gritted her teeth. She didn’t want to admit it, but she really couldn’t hurt him – not directly, at least. “You got what you wanted. Every day, you are given offerings from my kin. I held up my end of the deal! Now, you will tell me of the curse beset upon me, or I will personally smash every shrine, every idol, and slay every creature who would dare to utter your name! Without our deal, you are nothing!”

“Now that’s what I call a threat!” Discord laughed, clicking away his nightcap and tapping his fingers together. “However, there is one, tiny little problem with your logic. I’ll give you a hint: it could be a big problem going forward.”

“Enough of your riddles!” Chrysalis yelled. “Tell me what you did and tell me straight!”

“Aww, you’re no fun,” Discord summoned a handkerchief and blew his nose, feigning tears. “Well, if you insist, Princess—”

“Queen Chrysalis!”

“Alright, alright, Queen Chrysalis. The reason for your affliction has nothing to do with me, or the crown I gave you. All I did was give your magic a tiny little buff, and let you do the rest.”

Chrysalis’ jaw dropped. Even if her appearance had changed, her magic hadn’t. How could her own magic be causing such a dramatic degeneration? “Liar! If the crown made my magic stronger, then why did this affliction not take hold immediately? Your words are as good as poison, spit from your deceiver’s tongue.”

“Oh, how you wound me, dear Chrysalis,” Discord conjured a fainting couch to collapse on, his talon held up against his brow. “You speak of poison, as if your own actions are any less insidious. Killing ponies in cold blood, only to steal their visage and exploit their loved ones? Kidnapping innocent fillies? These are hardly the actions of a hero, my Queen.”

As if to emphasise his point, Discord conjured a large tome, flicking open to a page that contained a single word: Villain. “To any rational creature, your actions are the textbook definition of evil.”

“I… I…” Chrysalis stammered, stumbling back. Her, a villain? What was this, an elaborate stage play? “No! I’m not a villain, I cannot be! Everything I do, everything I’ve ever done, was for the sake of my kin. I-if anything, the fault lies within the pony savages, warring upon themselves!”

“Oh, if only you knew the nature of their conundrum,” Discord shook his head and shrugged. “And what about killing your mate, the one faeling who literally gave his life for peace?”

To that, Chrysalis had no response. Could Thorax have really brought about peace? No… He was hooked on a fantasy! She and she alone had seen the true nature of ponies, no matter what virtues of friendship they claimed to adhere.

“It seems the mighty queen has been rendered speechless!” Discord taunted. “But worry yourself not. If you uphold your end of the bargain, mine shall be upheld in kind. Just as your magic destroys you from the inside out, so too will it restore you in equal measure.”

“What?!” she fumed. “I told you to speak clearly! No more riddles, Discord! You are mine to obey!”

Discord cocked an eyebrow. “And so, at long last, the mask slips. Remember our deal, Queen Chrysalis. For the good of all Changeling kind, never forsake it!”

Chrysalis lunged for Discord, but it did no good. He had vanished in a puff of smoke. So, this is it, she thought. This is my fate… Looking at the smouldering remains of the candlewax, a smile gradually crept across her face.

“If that’s the way it must be, then I gladly accept! Let the ponies fear our Changeling kind, for we will stop at nothing to consume the love, and to conquer the land that is rightfully mine!”

Without the slightest care or worry for who overheard, Chrysalis once again burst into a mad, cackling fit of laughter. She now knew why she couldn’t sleep. She had been starving herself, letting the lesser Changelings feast without limits. Now it was her turn to feast, and she had one pony in mind to provide the finest delicacy.

Pumpkin Spice awoke with a start and sat bolt upright, finding herself alone in her bedroom. What had happened to her? Did she just wake up from a nightmare? Her head hurt enormously, as if she’d ran face-first into a brick wall.

She pushed the covers away and climbed up to her windowsill. Outside, her town was still covered with snow, but it was such a different scene compared to recent events. Ponies were frolicking about, laughing, and playing, like it was any other winter’s day. But what, exactly, was this experience she’d lost? She tried to remember, but it just made her headache worse. It was all so fuzzy, all except for the pair of friendly faelings who’d taken her to the doctor.

Maybe that was the problem? Maybe she did hit her head on something, becoming bedridden for an undetermined time? Still, she thought she’d remember what she’d hit, at least. She rubbed her free hoof across her head, feeling for a lump or bump to indicate a head-strike.

Before she could finish, Pumpkin’s attention was snatched by a knock on her bedroom door. “Who’s there?” she asked, feeling her muscles tense. Slowly, the handle pressed down, the door gently swinging inward to reveal…

Her mother.

“Oh my goodness!” Pepper Spice dropped her bowl of hot porridge, rushing to her daughter’s side to hug her.

“Mom!” Pumpkin wrapped her hooves around her mother tight, her heart swelling with emotion. “You’re alive! I thought I’d never see you again.”

“Took the words right outta my mouth, sugar cube,” Pepper said, kissing her daughter on the forehead as her eyes welled up with tears. “Ever since you took that blow to yer head, you’ve been out like a hibernatin’ bear. I was so scared you’d never wake up.”

“H-how long was I out for? And what about… what about the fa… the fal—” Pumpkin cringed, her headache suddenly doubling in intensity. She knew there was something missing, something that she needed to remember, but she just couldn’t describe what.

“Hush now, little one,” Pepper lowered Pumpkin back into bed, petting her as she did so. “Don’t push yourself too hard now, y’hear?”

“But, mom,” Pumpkin pressed, fighting to remain conscious in the face of extreme pain. “I need to know. How long was I out cold?”

“Well, if ya really insist, you were out for am fwy o wybodaeth, ailddarllenwch…”

Pumpkin blinked. If her mother had said something, she couldn’t understand it. The words just came out garbled. Now she knew something was amiss. She had to get to the bottom of this. “Sorry, what? Say again?”

“Os ydych chi'n deall hyn, does gennych chi ddim bywyd.”

Still unintelligible. Pumpkin would have pressed the matter further, but when she tried to sit up, her room began to twist and blur. Now she remembered: her mother was dead. She’d watch her die, her head severed by a unicorn’s blade. She was unable to look away, seeing the horror in her mother’s eyes, wide-open even after death.

Most of all, she remembered the Changelings. Had they done this? If they could shapeshift, could they have taken the form of ponies, or even the faelings, as evil doppelgangers? Were there ever really faelings to begin with?

Each of these questions echoed in her mind, the pressure increasing with each rotation. Her head felt ready to burst. As the colours of her world streaked away, fading to black, the last thing she heard was a formal, yet sinister voice.

“She’s clever, this one. She will be of use to us yet.”

When Pumpkin Spice regained consciousness, she was lying face-up on the cold, hard ground, covered with a mysterious green goop. At first, all she could see were three, dark, equine-looking figures standing above her. Only when her vision focused did she recognise what they were. It was Queen Chrysalis, flanked by a pair of changelings, one of whom she knew was named Thorax.

Pumpkin tried to stand, but the slime was too slippery, her limbs splaying out from under her. It took Chrysalis to levitate her out of the puddle.

“Let me go!” Pumpkin squirmed, trying to free herself. Much to her surprise, Chrysalis abided.

“That’s exactly what I plan on doing, little pony,” she said with a fang-toothed grin. “You are free to go home whenever you wish – under one condition, however.”

Pumpkin narrowed her eyes at her. “What condition?”

“It’s quite simple, really. Tell them about us. Tell everypony in your tribe, then spread the word to others. The Changelings are here to stay, and whether willing or otherwise, we will come for you. Better to submit now while you still have the chance. For those of you who do so? A better life awaits.”

Pumpkin glanced between Chrysalis and the other changelings. They were licking their lips with demonic-looking forked tongues. But the true horror lay behind them. Ponies, hundreds of them, all fast asleep and floating inside slime-filled cocoons. She didn’t know what the Changelings were doing to them, but if it were anything like her experience, she could barely fathom the kind of delusions they were under. Just the thought of it chilled her to the bone, making her shiver.

And yet, she had been offered the chance to leave. Why? Did none of the other ponies have a place to go back to? Friends, family, their own tribe? They could easily be just like her, missing the warmth of a familial touch, taken away all too soon.

Then again, she had to consider what was truly back home. She had no immediate family—none that she knew of, at least—so would she be placed in an orphanage? Would foster care be enough to fill her heart’s void, created by her mother’s death? It was a decision she doubted any seven-year-old was supposed to consider. Yet, here she was, presented with a choice that many adults would find hard to make.

“Alright,” she said. “I’ll tell them, but they’re not gonna like it.”

To that, Chrysalis laughed. “Oh, my sweet little child. I don’t expect them to like it. I just expect them to comply!”

To that, Pumpkin Spice had no answer. So, head hung low, she trotted away, soon breaking into a canter, then a full-on gallop out from the hive—away from the thousand tiny eyes watching her every move—and into the freezing snow. Whether she’d survive the journey home without any protective clothing, she didn’t know. But one thing was for sure. She still preferred the cold, harsh reality to the pleasant fantasy.

Epilogue

“After that, tensions were still high between the three tribes. They would remain so, right up until the discovery of the windigos. Ironically, Chrysalis did bring the three tribes closer together, in the end – if only by a small amount. As far as they knew, faelings were extinct, replaced by the evil Changelings who bore only a superficial resemblance. A Changeling could be any one of them, pushing ponies towards a war only they would benefit from. From that point on, our race would remain as parasites, right up until I was discovered by both Spike and Starlight Glimmer. But that’s a topic you’re already familiar with.”

Jotting down the last of her notes, Twilight Sparkle put down her quill and looked over the thick stack of papers that now dominated her tea table. For a long moment, she didn’t say anything, collecting her thoughts on everything she’d just been told.

Thorax broke the silence. “Are you okay, Twilight?”

“I…” she thought about that for a moment. She had been prepared for a heavy tale, and even after their multiple check-in breaks, she still wasn’t sure how she felt. “To be honest, I think I’ll have to shelve this project – if only for a couple of weeks,” she sighed and looked up at Thorax with a weak smile. “Just so I can process everything.”

Thorax smiled back and nodded. “I hear the ponyville spa is a popular relaxation destination. Perhaps we could spend a little time there? That, and you still owe me Donuts in Canterlot.”

Twilight’s own smile grew, this time into something more genuine. The suggestion alone warmed her up a little, easing some of the harsh emotions stirred over the course of the interview. “Yeah, I’d like that, actually,” she said. “Rarity’s always begging me to go on a spa date, but you know me: busy, busy, busy!”

Thorax chuckled. “Oh, do I ever know what that’s like? Chrysalis made leadership look so easy, but I guess friendship takes a lot more work, huh?”

“You can say that again,” Twilight giggled back. “But that reminds me, there is one more question I’ve been meaning to ask. More of a personal question than one for the textbooks.”

“Sure, Twilight. What would you like to know?”

“Why did you decide to keep your species name as ‘Changeling’? I would’ve thought you’d change it back by now, since you’re, y’know, the original.”

Thorax rubbed his chin. “Well, I think it’s because one thing Chrysalis said is true. We must adapt and change according to the needs of our culture. Friendship and, by extension, the multiculturalism of the Friendship School, makes us better. We’re healthier and more prosperous than we’ve ever been! Whatever the future holds for us, I know we will be stronger if we face it together. We won’t forget our legacy, but we won’t be held down by it, either.”

Twilight cocked an eyebrow. “Are you sure you don’t want a teacher’s position? You sound like the type.”

“O-oh,” Thorax stammered, caught off guard by the suggestion. “I-I don’t know about that, I don’t think I have the time, with all my existing responsibilities I’d just be—”

Thorax’s rambling came to a stop when Twilight burst out laughing. “Relax, Thorax! I’m just messing with you. Like you said, we’re both busy as heck.”

“Oh,” Thorax blushed, his ears flattening a little. “Sorry. I guess we really aren’t so different, huh?”

“And that’s what makes you awesome,” Twilight concluded, her tone cheerful. Just as she stood up, the study room door opened, and in walked Spike. He carried a small bag, filled with trinkets and gems gifted from the crystal ponies.

“Hey, Twilight, I’m home—” his announcement was cut off by a tackle hug from Twilight.

“Good to see you, Spike,” Twilight nuzzled him a little.

“Good to see you, too, Twilight,” Spike said with some difficulty. “Not that I mind the hugs, but are you okay? Did something happen?”

“Nothing much,” Twilight replied, releasing the hug. “Just a lot of history I had to write down. Stuff that makes me glad to have you, the dragon equivalent of a baby brother, in my life.”

“Awww, shucks, Twi,” Spike blushed, and then noticed Thorax standing next to the tea table. “Oh, hey, Thorax. Didn’t know you were coming today. I’m guessing you’re the super special ‘mystery guest’ Twilight mentioned, huh?”

“If that’s how she described me, then I guess I am,” Thorax replied. “We’ve done a lot of work today, mostly school stuff. You wouldn’t be interested.”

Spike shrugged. “Well, I am kinda curious. But, if you insist, I’ll take your word for it. Besides, there’s no way I’m gonna read all that tonight. I’m pooped!”

Thorax yawned. “Yeah, I guess it has been a long day for all of us. Twilight, you don’t mind if I crash here tonight, do you?”

“Of course not,” Twilight beamed. “It’d be my pleasure. Come on, I’ll show you the choice of rooms.”

“Hey, don’t forget about me,” Spike said, placing his claws on his hips. “I’ve done a lot today, too. Don’t you wanna hear about the triumphant return of Spike: The Brave and Glorious?”

Thorax and Twilight looked at each other for a moment, but ultimately smiled back at Spike. “Well, I guess one more tale couldn’t hurt,” Thorax said.

As Spike began to regale Thorax with his exploits in the Crystal Empire, Twilight thought back to something he’d said when he first revealed Thorax. Even a Changeling can change. A sentiment that was true, now more so than ever before. Perhaps, one day, even Queen Chrysalis could see the error of her ways, becoming the benevolent Princess pony kind had once known her to be.

If she were honest, Twilight would freely admit it was a stretch. But after all she’d been through, from Discord to becoming the Princess of Friendship, it wasn’t an impossible concept. After all, stranger things had happened in Equestria.

Author's Note

A couple of notes to round out the fic. First, to address a potential elephant in the room. My editor pointed out that the usage of the word "savage" could carry racist connotations, since when couple with the word "tribe", it's been historically used in a way to demonise minorities, particularly indigenous people.

Whether or not my readers will get this impression, I don't know. I just want to nip any potential issues in the bud, stating that while, yes, Chrysalis is explicitly framed as wrong in this situation, the subtext of this story is not an endorsement of any real-world racist attitudes.

On a lighter note, I'm aware that the name "Frenulum" refers to something very different in human anatomy than it does in an invertebrate context. While the dictionary definition is "connective soft tissue", it is commonly used to refer to the penis. Frenulum is a canon name, according to the TCG, but in insect anatomy, it refers to tissues connecting the wings. Hence why it stayed :P.

Finally, I want to give a big thank you to ObabScribbler, who's reading of the story "A Walk in the Park" inspired this fic's creation. In addition to linking the story direct, you can find the reading, here.

Thank you for reading this pet project of mine. Any and all constructive feedback is welcome!