He was young. That was good--young ponies always had ample love to give and could easily be persuaded to give it up. Moth supposed that he was handsome, in a squishy pony-ish kind of way. An earth pony with dark hair that flopped breezily over his eyes like the models in magazines. How many hours had he spent in front of the mirror perfecting that effortlessly casual look? He walked the cobblestone streets of the pony town with the light-hearted confidence of a manticore in the Everfree and the air around him tasted like arrogance and pride. A pony used to being looked at and admired.
It was almost too easy.
Moth had chosen her look from a magazine as well: a mare with fiery hair and smoldering eyes. Attractive enough to get noticed but ambiguous enough to not be recognized. She had taken the liberty of plumping her flank and lengthening her eyelashes. There was no harm in giving herself an advantage. She could feel all eyes on her as she sashayed by. Years of practice and ponywatching had taught her how to sway her hips in just the right way to earn the kind of attention she was looking for.
She strutted past the stallion and felt his attention on her flank--felt the surge of interest that betrayed the disinterested look his face maintained when she tossed a glance back at him and shook her tail. She could have laughed at the whirl of emotions she felt radiating from the pony. Maybe he was a bit younger than she thought. A transparent bat of the eyelashes and he trotted after her like the lamb to the slaughter that he was. She let him take the lead, taking her down the winding streets of the town to a remote corner house lit by a single oily yellow street lamp. Not a word was spoken as he opened the door and motioned Moth inside but she could feel the riotous emotions boiling around him.
So young. And so, so eager.
A laughably few minutes later and Moth emerged from his door and onto the street once more, the invigorating taste of raw, love fresh on her tongue.
Ponies. So eager to give their love to strangers.
The moon was at its zenith, time to go. Her drones were returning, equally glutted with love and awaiting her orders.
"To the hive," she said, shedding her disguise and taking to the air with a raucous buzz of gossamer wings.
****
The first hints of dawn were peeking over the horizon by the time Moth and her drones slipped without fanfare into the buzzing tunnels of the hive. A pony could never hope to find their way through. Passages ended without warning while others looped and twisted and branched so many ways that getting lost was inevitable. To a pony of course. To Moth and any other changeling the winding tunnels were as easy to navigate as a clearly marked road. The Queen Mother had made this hive with her own hooves. She new every rock, crack, turn, and bend. Every pockmarked wall and nest chamber was filled with her scent and burned into her memory. And from her memory every grub in every egg knew the hive with the same intimacy as the Queen Mother.
The walls breathed with anticipation of what was to come. Whispers were echoed as shouts down the endless tunnels, doubled, tripled, and quadrupled into a cacophony of noise that shook the hive to its core.
Two names were on every changeling's lips. Moth and her.
The tunnel opened abruptly into a massive cave. A natural cave that had inspired the Queen Mother to build the hive here. Big enough to hold every changeling in the hive and then some with massive, ancient stalactites gripping tirelessly at the ceiling and dripping a steady stream of water from a river that coursed somewhere above.
All heads turned as Moth and her drones entered and a fitful hush fell over the collected masses. The changelings were arranged in a circle, a sea of black chitin and buzzing wings. At the center of the circle was the Queen Mother: Membrane and, of course, her. Changelings scurried out of the way to make room for Moth as she delicately landed across from Chrysalis.
Her sister was haggard, as always, her chitin dull and her green mane hanging in dirty-looking chunks across her face. Her drones behind her were in a similar state of not worse. Clearly their feeding hadn't gone as well as Moth's had.
"Queenling Moth," Queen Membrane greeted, her voice weak and reedy. Even in her old age she was a sight to behold. Dove grey chitin and a silvery mane that fell down her long swan neck like a curtain of quicksilver. Her horn branched upwards in a subtle curve like the branch of a great tree and her cloudy blue eyes regarded Moth with frosty indifference. "I see that your hunt was a successful one."
Moth gave her most elegant bow, turning her backside at her disheveled sister, "Yes, Queen Mother. The ponies of the town called Canterlot are brimming with love. We needed only walk among them for a few days and we could feed at our leisure."
"A cowards solution," Chrysalis spat, "why walk among the ponies when love can just as easily be taken by force?" She grinned, showing off bloodstained fangs, "One bite is enough to drain their pathetic bodies of all the love we need!"
"If it's so effective then why do you look like..." Moth gestured vaguely to Chrysalis' whole body, "that?"
Chrysalis flared her wings, "Walking among the ponykin has softened your carapace! If you're so fond of them why don't you go live with them?"
"Enough!" Queen Membrane's weakest shout was still enough to rattle the stalactites and send a shower of dusty water onto the surrounding changelings. She coughed wetly for several seconds before regarding the queenlings with a frigid stare. "You both know the purpose of your feeding frenzy tonight. The time for an ascension is at hoof. Tell me, what will your rule be?"
"The ponykin are ripe for the picking!" Chrysalis sneered, "My sister was not the only one scouting Canterlot. The ponies are fat with love and easily harvested. As queen I will take this Canterlot and reshape its castle into my hive with its ponies at my disposal we will never feel the pain of hunger!"
"You plan to send your drones to war with the pony queen? Such a battle will be bloody and hard won--many will die--will you preserve? What will you do when you've drained every drop of love from the ponies and they have turned to dust?"
"I-I will go to the next town!" Crhysalis said desperately, struggling with the unexpected question, "Every pony in this land of Equestria will be food for my hive!"
"I see."
Queen Membrane turned to Moth expectantly.
"The ponykin are gullible and easily manipulated," Moth said evenly, "they surender their love with little resistance. As queen I would command my drones from the shadows. The ponies would be none the wiser and would always have full stores of love on which to feed. The hive would spread to the farthest reaches of the land undetected and well fed."
"I see. You would prefer the road of the coward in exchange for a full belly?"
"I--"
"Ha!" Chrysalis barked out a laugh that was quickly silenced by the Queen's glare.
"I have heard enough." Queen Membrane looked out at the sea of changelings, "My changelings. Prepare to accept your new queen!"
The changelings pulled away, creating a clearing with the two queenlings in the center.
The feed meant nothing. The state of her drones meant nothing. Even the Queen Mother's question about what her rule would be meant nothing. This was all that mattered--the Fight of Ascension.
Chrysalis struck without warning, fangs bared to tear flesh. Moth met her fang for fang. She was full and healthy where Chrysalis was hungry and weak. But her hunger made her quick and ruthless. Her teeth sank into Moth's hind leg, through the chitin and into the sensitive flesh underneath. The pain meant nothing. Moth kicked out her hoof and knocked her sister away, earning a screech of rage and a piece of meat torn away from her leg.
Chrysalis staggered to the edge of the ring, narrowly dodging the flashing teeth of the changelings nipping at her heels, keeping her contained in the Circle of Teeth. She spat out the chunk of Moth's leg along with one of her own teeth and looked for her next opening.
Silver blood trickled down Moth's leg but she rested her full weight on it regardless of any pain she might feel. Chrysalis had already drawn first blood, she had to make her move now. Her fangs missed her sister's neck but found purchase on her wing instead. She planted her hooves and pulled her head back and was rewarded with the sound of ripping membrane and a howl of pain. She dropped the ruined wing and immediately buzzed her own, taking to the air and out of reach of Chrysalis' teeth.
Moth was virtually invincible now. She swooped in and out like a mischievous barn swallow--biting her and tearing there--until her dear sister was a panting, bleeding mess standing alone in the Circle of Teeth.
There was only one rule in the Fight of Ascension.
Moth was healthy and well fed while Chrysalis was weak and hungry. Of course Moth would be stronger, faster, better.
But Chrysalis was desperate. And desperation made creatures do incredible and terrible things.
Moth saw the wildness in her eyes. The savage spark of feral beasts that only lived in the darkest shadows and blackest corners of the imagination. She heard the primal scream that ripped from her throat as she bent her legs and sprang into the air as quick as a jackrabbit. She saw her fangs bared, ready to strike, and her hooves outstretched to tackle her to the ground. She saw it all playing out before her like it was happening underwater--slow and deliberate. And yet she had no time to react. She couldn't even stop her forward momentum from driving her right into Chrysalis' outstretched hooves.
In less time than it took to blink, Chrysalis slammed all of her weight into Moth. Or did Moth slam all of her weight into Chrysalis? She landed on her back, the veins in her right wing snapping and cracking as it bent under her. Chrysalis' fangs were in her throat, her back hooves pummeling her ribs.
The pain meant nothing.
Moth screeched her defiance to the stony ceiling and slammed her hoof into Chrysalis's muzzle. It only knocked her back a step but it was enough.
It had to be enough.
Chrysalis' hoof pressed onto her throat. All her weight centered on that one hoof.
The chitin cracked.
The pain meant nothing.
Moth's hooves scrabbled uselessly on Chrysalis' belly.
The pain meant nothing.
Darkness crept into the corners of her eyes.
The pain meant nothing.
"Enough."
The hoof disappeared and air rushed into Moth's lungs. She rolled onto her side, the bitter taste of blood on her tongue. Queen Membrane's hooves were blurry. She couldn't roll her eyes far enough upwards to see her face.
"The Fight of Ascencion has been decided."
There was no cheering, no excited stomping of hooves. Just a reverential silence for what was to come.
No.
Something gurgled in Moth's throat, trying to be words that no one cared to hear.
Queen Mother's horn glowed with brilliant green light and every changeling followed suit until the cave was bathed in green so bright that Moth's eyes burned.
She wanted to close her eyes.
But she wouldn't.
The glow surrounded Chrysalis, lifting her into the air and shining so bright it hid her from view.
The drone closest to Moth was the first to fall, nothing but a husk that quickly disintegrated into a fine grey dust. Then another fell, and another, until only Queen Membrane was left, standing like a ghostly tree in the middle of the cave. Moth watched her legs tremble and finally collapse. Watched her crumble like the ancient relic she was and break to pieces on the cold stone floor where Moth lay.
Chrysalis descended delicately to the floor, reborn. Her mane fell down her long swan neck like a teal waterfall and her mighty horn branched upwards like the arm of a great tree. Her belly was swollen with eggs born of the life-love of every changeling of Queen Membranes hive; the start of her own hive.
A hive that shouldn't belong to her.
Moth forced her shaking hooves under her and rose, spitting a silvery gob onto the dusty floor. The sound caught Chrysalis' attention and she finally looked at her, a small smile on her new, delicate muzzle. She raised a single hoof and brought it down on Moth's head with a final crunch.
In the final flashes of light that sputtered through her mind, Moth remembered her hatching. She remembered gasping for breath on the cold stone floor after emerging from her egg. She remembered her pitiful mewl of pain when a sharp rock cut through her still-soft carapace. She remembered Queen Mother, bigger than the whole world, looking down at her with cloudy eyes.
"Have you hurt yourself? Little grub...."
Your pain does not matter.
In a cave long lost to time and forgotten by all but the oldest ponies, a single queenling lies buried under the dust of her hive.
And it really doesn't matter.
Author's Note
Thank you for taking the time to read my little story! I wanted to write some changeling lore and an origin story of sorts for Chrysalis. I don't know if it's any good but it was fun to write anyway!
Fun fact! I was listening to the Pokemon Mirror B. Battle Music while writing the ending, lol
