Loyalty

Chapters

Prisoner
Purely organic walls
Magic? No.
Generic hive-integrated lodging
Structural Instability
The fall of hive Chrysaliy
Welcome to the Sky

Prisoner

Author's Note

A prologue of sorts, but an important one. Likely won't understand much of the story later if you don't read this.

Prisoner

The Prisoner sat in his small excuse of a jail cell, a grim look written on his face. It was dark and the cold still managed to crawl into his carapace no matter his efforts.

"You should feel honoured, first 'ling to be branded a traitor since who knows how long. Why the sad eyes?" The mocking tone was clear, yet set in a way that sounded innocent at the same time.

He moved his eyes to gaze upon his jailer. He paused. Then took a good deep breath in and replied "I'm not a traitor."

There was a derisive snort. "Found during the wedding, wandering around instead of helping your fellow kin as they die. We aren't even sure who you are, since apparently you were so forgettable no one remembers you." she turned her head to observe him "It isn't natural for every single lint and lynx not to have the slightest idea of who you are, to put it mildly. I am not convinced in the slightest of your innocence, Prisoner." Apparently his jailer also had a constantly moving mouth. A wealth of information.

"That's not my name. And besides, I was confused. Didn't know where I was."

"So you claim, Prisoner." She paused and looked up into the air almost as though smelling something. Then she stiffened in a rigid posture. "The queen. Shes here."

That was rather quick to be meeting the leader of an entire species, wasn't it? Then again, he had only interacted with one species, that being his own.

There was a buzz of sorts and in entered one he had learned about through naught but careful listening.

His jailer crouched down in some sort of bow. "This is the traitor? I had expected an experienced infiltrator or a scared drone. Certainly not a common guard. Most certainly not since the incident." Queen Chrysalis stated, in a tone that would have convinced one that she was criticizing overly burnt fish.

She cut an imposing figure and his eyes took seconds to realize she was a a good bit bigger than him. Alas, his jailer, now finished with kneeling, interjected, her answer breaking his thoughts. "Yes, your majesty. He's the one."

Chrysalis turned to stare at him carefully. He stared back, clearly unsure of what to do.

"Well? What do you have to say for yourself."

"I'm loyal. Serve the throne."

"Really? Why didn't you kneel when I appeared, then?"

There was a moderate period of silence, but before those on the best side of the bars could say anything he answered.

"Does it matter if I'm dead?"

The Queen smiled, showcasing her bone white fangs.

"Who said anything about death?"

He woke up in an uncomfortable position. The ground was cold, but he didn't recognize the texture. He wasn't in a jail cell anymore, was he? He would assume so.

"Finally woke up, Penal guard?"

He went rigid. "What?"

"It's your name. Or your title. Something like that."

"It's not my name" He let out with a sigh "My name is..." He sat up with alarm. What was his name!?

"Don't you remember? It's merely a small part of the punishment you got."

He did remember.

"Penal changelings lose the memory of most of their life and other things, like passwords and secrets. You will be spared the basics, like your general knowledge. You will be watched carefully. Earn your loyalty and perhaps you will have less of a miserable life. Fail, and suffer."

"That seems like a rather light punishment."

"That is what you think. You will be treated like expendable hethicus. You are below that of drones. You will serve the throne, whether you like it or not. Be glad we can't spare a single 'ling-"

His jailer took his attention once again. "Your the first penal 'ling in a long time. Even longer ago than traitors were a thing. centuries more perhaps."
She studied him carefully "Usually you would be given a name of sorts immediately but since your the first penal 'ling in such a long time, your the only penal 'ling here, thus you don't receive a proper one yet." She shook her head, red compact eyes shining. "Off to work with you now."

He sat on his haunches, ignoring the order, dealing with his situation the best he could, all four of his legs feeling as though ice had seeped completely into them.

She gave him a glare. "I trust you remember what disobeying orders from those who are above you entails?"

He did, wishing that part of the conversation had been forgotten instead of his other memories, and got up.

"Where do I go..?" He asked warily.

She sighed. "I have to teach you as if you were a newborn grub, don't I? Well, my name is Locust, go there" she lifted her leg (hoof?) till you see the arched doorway, then sit at the doorway and don't move. Guard that area. We will send someone to tell you when to stop. Don't let the 'lings get out. The area is a vital part to the hive and since we don't have any more- Just guard the damn thing already!"

The outburst shocked him, and in a fearful state he turned and followed his orders the best he could.

He walked silently, mulling over his recent conversation. When he reached his destination he observed where he had been sent to guard.

Another 'ling had noticed him, gave him an emotionless look and walked away without a word, leaving him with alone to guard the position.

Inside the room a bunch of tiny changelings were fighting within a reasonably sized room.

God, he was sent to guard a literal nursery? He- what? He wasn't meant to be their caretaker if he understood correctly, just keep them in. Because changelings had yet to invent doors, quite apparently. In fact a couple of the adult changelings inside he guessed were the caretakers themselves, providing watch as the tiny 'lings fought fought rather viciously among themselves.

Huh. A nursery.

It was rather important, he realized, ridding himself of hysteria. The young are the future and one would be a fool not to know that.

He sat and did his job which consisted of standing still and making sure none pass. Huh. He still remembered Gandalf, somehow.

Did he miss his family and friends? No. Wait. He didn't have any that he could remember. A tad difficult to miss what you don't remember as even being a part of your life. Perhaps he missed what could have been. He certainly missed Earth, that glorious planet in which he had fingers.

"Magic" was strange. A new thing he had yet to understand.

Not too mention that everyone around him thought he was always a 'ling, born a 'ling and that meant he was expected to know this.

Was there a library of sorts somewhere?

Someone tapped him at his - fetlock, was it? - he glanced down. One of the kids had approached him with a serene look on said child's face.

"Is your name really Penal Guard?" he chirped.

He stared. After a moment, he thought he really had to reply.

"Yes."

"Your name sucks!" another child angrily squeaked.

He blinked. "Do you have any better ones?"

"Yes!" she said proudly "Pigeon!"

The silence that reigned supreme over him only managed to keep its throne for a second.

"...doesn't it have to be insectoid-themed...?"

"Only for true changelings!"

Silence regained its throne and resumed ruling.

"..Alright" He conceded. It was better than Penal Guard, decidedly.

He looked forward and focused on guarding.

Had he been a security guard of sorts? He couldn't remember. He must have had some patience at least for he was able to fight boredom until a... drone if he remembered right nervously approached him and gave him a jar. Inside was a pink gas or mist of sorts. He stared at it. Clearly he was supposed to know what to do with it. He opened it with utmost caution. The mist practically jumped out and flew into his mouth. he stiffened and- ...it felt as though he had consumed a small meal. He felt the hunger that he hadn't even acknowledged fade a little.

"Rations?" he muttered. Changelings eat pink air?

"...Yes?" the drone whom he had forgotten about answered, looking at him with a mixture of confusion, curiosity and nervousness.

"I see. Don't let me hold you from your job." he dismissed.

The drone buzzed his wings, ready to leave.

"Wait." The drone stopped.

"Whats the difference between a drone and a guard?"

The drone stared at him almost incredulously. "You don't know? I thought the loss of your memories didn't include basic knowledge!"

He stared at the drone blankly. Then Pigeon sighed and asked "Well, what's your name?"

A pause. "Thorax."

"Well Thorax, educate me."

"W-well Drones have blue eyes and are given wings and speed, Warriors have red eyes and are given magic and strength, Caretakers have purple eyes and are given horns and a large storage for love to spread and Guards have green eyes and are granted magic and endurance. Infiltrators have orange eyes and are given perfect disguises and powerful magic" He finished off with a surprising amount of enthusiasm.

Pigeon looked at Thorax with amusement "This was a nursery rhyme of sorts, wasn't it?"

Thorax nodded enthusiastically. "Yes! Blue Drones, for the hive to function, Red Warriors, to destroy its enemies, Purple Caretakers, to teach the young, Green Guards, for when it prospers, Orange infiltrators, to hide in plain sight, and the Queen, the embodiment of the hive herself! DWCGIQ!"

Pigeon stared at him, his green compact eyes communicating how bewildered he was.

Thorax managed to wield the power to solve all storage problems of the universe by shrinking.

"Thanks.. Thorax. See you later, I suppose. Have a good day?" Pigeon offered kindly.

"Alright" Thorax mumbled "I'll just go now."

Watching Thorax fly away he could only think What a strange mess I've landed myself in.

Purely organic walls

Penal ‘lings were strange. Or at least this one was.

Locust rather hoped she wasn’t the only one who thought that.

Pigeon (A rather ridiculous name) guarded (which consisted of sitting and doing nothing) and slept. Until he decided enough was enough and took some of the pitiful amount of sleep he had and used it to wander. Nothing more. Explore. That was it. As far as the 'lings watching him were aware, he wasn't doing anything involving escape or harm. Nothing major, anyway. He walked and talked. Of course, he was often talked to rudely, though that never seemed to effect him.

Well, except that one time... she winced. Pigeon had been much more careful after that.

Though it was when he tried to go outside of the hive that he found out that he wasn't allowed to do that, being watched or not. He likely wasn't surprised.

He still learned things. It wasn't long before he learned why he was the only one with green eyes.

Locust grimaced in an almost violent way. It was an act of desperation, but with it they lost all a remnant of the hives prosperity. All they had left of its former prosperity was a convict. One who likely couldn't remember what he did to become one.

To his credit, he did his job.

At the very least he freed up warriors to do their job and fight the moles. It was almost as though they smelled the state of weakness they were in.

She snorted. She was supposed to be out there fighting alongside the others, but instead she was supposed to order around a coward. A traitor. Was this her punishment for not succeeding? Maybe she hadn't fought as hard as she should have?

She shook her head. No, she had tried her best.

Maybe-

"Oh, hello."

She had been so lost in her thoughts she had almost collided into Pigeon who had managed to evade her in time. He was clutching a rat in his... rather oddly shaped magic levitation. Four things that were like mole feet, but less sharp and more stubby with the inclusion of another of the things on the side, clearly aiding in grasping the squirming creature.

He was looking at it like it was an infinite love supply. She stared at him. His greeting was clearly subconscious.

He acted like he didn't know he could do magic, or just never thought of it.

Wait.

"Pigeon" Locust said slowly "Do you remember being able to use magic?"

He was broken out of his thoughts and turned to her. There was a period of silence.

"No."

Locust stared at him, unsure what to tell him.

"Do you know anything other than levitation?"

"No?"

It was ridiculous.

"Pigeon."

"...yes?"

"Give that rat to a drone so that they can produce more hethicus."

"What's hethicus? I've heard it before, but nothing more than a mention from Commander Pharynx or Thorax."

"..."

"You don't know what hethicus is?! How much was removed from that mind of yours?! What do you think the entire hive is made of!" There she goes again, not being able to stop her mouth from regurgitating everything she's thinking. She should find a way to stop that.

"The walls are made up of organic matter?"

Ocellus had left the nursery for quite a long time. By changeling standards, she was an adult. It likely should have been a distant memory by now.

She still loved to visit the nursery, but that earned her a lot of ridicule.

"you should have been a caretaker Ocellus, not an infiltrator!"

Nowadays the nursery was guarded by the first penal 'ling in centuries. Possibly before the Queen was born.

Usually she managed to sneak in before his "shift" but today she wouldn't be able to. Hopefully he would let her in. She hoped. She had never met him.

Currently he was talking to Commander Pharynx.

Though it was more as though he was being carefully questioned by the Commander. He was keeping his composure, though it was clear that he would like nothing more than to be in his current situation.

Ocellus couldn't blame him.

Focusing on her mission, she got closer.

"Tell me, how many young 'lings attempted to get outside, convict?"

"Two today... sir" The word appeared to sound foreign, as though he had never expected to use it.

Pharynx nodded, eyes still steadily kept on Pigeon (When she had been told of how he got his name, she would admit she had laughed. A lot. Said child was planning to change the name when he 'became a true changeling'. She hadn't had the heart to utter the saying she had started to hear circulating around the hive. 'No Penal 'ling has ever ascended, just as the dead have never become queens.')

The Commander observed Pigeon closely, then left saying "Well, be sure to attend combat lessons. You have been found to be simply horrible in that matter. A rat could defeat you."

Pigeon grimaced.

Ocellus wasn't sure she was supposed to hear that.

It wasn't important, anyway. She wanted to get through to the nursery. She took a deep breath in and approached Pigeon.

He took notice immediately. "State your purpose."

She stared at him defiantly "I want to enter the nursery."

He looked at her carefully. "Sure."

She opened her mouth, then closed it.

"Seriously? That's it? Just 'you can go in, sure, I trust you completely'"

He gave her a confused expression "Don't you outrank me? As far as I am aware, questioning you wasn't even protocol. I have been told to follow orders from those higher, no matter how strange."

She blinked "I do?"

"I'm quite sure you do, yes. Even if I was a normal guard, with you being an infiltrator and all, you would still outrank me."

"Huh." She had never really interacted with guards, and never really found herself using her rank. Her confidence was boosted now.

"Indeed. You wanted to go in?"

"Yes. Right.. nice talking to you I suppose?" she said awkwardly.

He gave a sigh "I was the one who derived all the pleasure for it. Only ones who talk to me regul are Thorax, Locust and Phary- er, Commander Pharynx. And you now I suppose."

"That's kind of sad. Well, you seem like a nice guy." For a convict.

He already knew what she was thinking. "For a convict?"

"Indeed. You already got punished for guessing what some'ling was to say by doing it to the wrong 'ling, didn't you?"

His grim look, one that hid pain, answered her. Ocellus wouldn't be surprised to find markings on his carapace.

"Right then, excrete your feces here."

"Why do I need to do this?"

"What do you think hethicus is made of?"

"Hethicus?"

"Yes."

"The thing our grey walls are made of?"

"We only have grey walls. All our walls are grey. But yes, that's what it's made of."

"Our walls are made up of poop and dead animals?"

"Yes?"

"How does feces and blood even turn into grey, hard, walls?!"

"We drones eat 'em, spit 'em out and mold 'em while they're wet."

"That's disgusting."

"...Why?"

"What?"

"Why? It makes our walls. Why do see it as disgusting?"

"...I suppose biosolids exist. Food is sometimes made from feces."

"Changelings don't eat solid food. We just eat love and drink water." There was suspicion in his voice.

"No, no, no, just consider food for other species food in the end. They eat it, we eat their love."

"Huh." Still hearing suspicion.

"Seriously? What, do you think I'm another species in disguise? Everyone knows only changelings can disguise as another species so seamlessly." Except me, until I heard it from Ocellus. Thank you, Ocellus. I'll thank you another time for real next I see you.

"Well, you know what they say, Discord was able to cause temporary transformations."

"...Who?"

"Erm.. Discord, you know, that old legend..."

"Your basing this off a legend?"

"Alright, alright, fine! I am just a drone, apologies that I accused you of something impossible, you don't need to embarrass me!"

"Thanks. Here, have my poop."

"Wait. Why do you think it's disgusting to do this? Every changeling knows this."

"...I heard from a friend that excrement disgusts other species. Thus, the idea rooted in my head."

"...You're weird."

"Oh, choke on a rock!"

"You wish!"

He had escaped a close call that time, he decided. Talking was a powerful tool.

Wait. How did he know how to talk "changeling"? There should be no way that human and changeling languages were similar.

Magic perhaps?

Pharynx frowned disapprovingly at Pigeon (ridiculous name.)

"Hitting 'lings with your legs will damage nothing but their pride."

Pigeon was laying on his side gasping. "Damn you..." He managed.

"Oh get up you grub. I didn't tell you to be horrible at combat. And forget all combat spells."

"Give me a chance and I might be able to do something. I am used to the environment being an aid, not a flat space of con- hethicus" Pharynx raised his eye-ridge "And a weapon of sorts. Like a knife."

Pharynx paused and thought. Then he snorted.

He threw him a knife, one that was on one of the nearby tables covered in weapons.

Pigeon caught it in his magical aura. He seemed to stop and observe it. "What?" he asked.

"You wanted a weapon, like a knife, correct?" Pharynx supplied. "Don't tell me the penal spell made you forgetful."

Pigeon studied it for another moment, then got up.

They resumed their brawl. Pigeon seemed to have very good reflexes with a knife. Much better with combat spells, which he knew nothing of. He still beat him easily "What are you doing, keeping that knife so close to your chest? Extend it!" but at least he wasn't horrible. Perhaps he wasn't a lost cause. Just needed training. Lots of training.

They really needed to regain their strength what with the Canterlot massacre, as it was being called by most. For the ponies, it was called the Canterlot wedding incident. To them, it ended happily.

Pharynx forced Pigeon into the ground harshly, letting some of his anger spill. He really needed to have better control over his anger. He would see what he could do about that problem.

They were fools, he thought as he defeated Pigeon yet another time. They left the changelings to starve, and he would do everything in his power to uplift the hive to its former glory, and no pony or 'ling would stand in his way. Not a single one.

It was a bit after the sparring lesson with Pigeon, that he was told the news. Well, he along with the queen.

"What?" The queen said in a low, menacing tone of voice that seemed to have a major effect on everyone. Well, everyone but Pharynx and the messenger. He was simply tired. And if the messenger shivered in fear every time the queen was angry, there would be no more 'lings in the hive to deliver them.

"The ponies are searching for the hive. Well, the ones with a carapace are."

The queen shook her head angrily. "And our infiltrators?"

"Sabotaging it in any way they can. Rest assured, they will not find the hive."

The queen had a snarl etched on her muzzle "Keep it that way."

The messenger bowed and left.

The queen shook her tail angrily retired to her room.

Pharynx sighed. There was no way the hive wouldn't hear of this. He had advised the queen to keep matters more private, but it seemed that was ignored. The hive would be frightened. The queen, could, of course, easily crush any thoughts of anger, but there would be a state of unrest and general distress in the hive.

He turned to his soldiers.

"Keep it down, do your jobs, trust in the infiltrators. They are so deeply rooted the ponies will not be able to find the hive. The moles however, already have and always have. Fight them with your strength and cunning to keep the hive, your family, safer than the throne. Dismissed."

He turned and sat in silence, thinking deeply. The sound of his troops trotting out was the only background noise that tried to distracted him.

How many lives were lost, all because of carelessness, all because of their carelessness.

No. Not theirs. Not Pigeon's.

He knew exactly who to blame it on.

Author's Note

I don't have the heart to write things that are too dark.

Writing gore would be tiring and consume my mental capacities, I think.

Likely the times the story will get dark is "so and so died and oh look that one got hanged or drowned."

Please notify me of mistakes. I did not check over the story as much as I should have.

Magic? No.

"Learn to shoot magical bolts."

"Why?"

"Wha- What do you mean why? Its a useful skill that can easily be employed to defend the hive. A hundred magic bolts can pierce the strongest of shields."

"Why do I need to learn this? Don't a hundred bullets can do the same?"

"...Bullets?"

"...I meant arrows."

Pharynx gave Pigeon a strange look.

"While a hundred arrows might be able to come somewhere close, magical bolts are just better. The power of bolts vary between 'lings, Meaning the damage they can regurgitate out varies. Meanwhile, arrows have a set amount of power. Arrows also cost resources, while magic costs just magical power that is regained with rest. Now, spit out a bolt for me."

Pigeon looked at him blankly.

Pharynx sighed. "You don't know how to do that, do you?"

Pigeon continued to look at him blankly.

Pharynx sighed again. "Really?"

Pigeon did not stop looking at him blankly.

There was a third sigh. "Alright, fine. Call upon your magic like you would before using levitation."

Pigeon did just that. His horn lit up, a green aura present, as is with all guards. Was.

Pharynx shook his head. Constantly musing on the past would get him nowhere. He returned to instructing the guardslint.

"Now force your horn to shoot a bolt."

Pigeon started trying to do just that. Emphasis on tried. He failed rather miserably.

Pharynx wondered how long it would take for Pigeon to learn how to shoot.

He rather hoped it wouldn't be too long.

It was only a matter of time before he learned how to shoot magical bolts.

He was deathly wrong.

Pigeon couldn't vomit out a magical bolt if he was granted a changeling queen's magical affinity.

Pharynx was currently lying on his stomach, utterly bored. Usually he was alert and commanding his troops, but it really wasn't necessary when Pigeon was set to fail the simplest of commands when it came to any magic that wasn't levitation.

He was given a guardslint that had above average scores in weapon handing. In fact, the best handling of the crossbows, though is was clear that Pigeon was uncomfortable with the crossbow and would prefer another weapon. Searching for another ranged weapon, he had given him a bow. He was even worse with a bow then he was with it's other cousin. He had yet to find a ranged weapon that Pigeon would be most proficient at.

He had, out of desperation, tried to make Pigeon summon a magical sword. Pigeon still failed miserably.

Currently, Pigeons expression was one of set determination.

If there was one thing Pharynx could commend, was that Pigeon knew what discipline was and tried to follow orders.

He had yet to observe Pigeon attempt to be intentionally disloyal. That wasn't much, of course, any 'ling would know basic deception at the very least, but it was still something that Pharynx could respect in Pigeon.

Ridiculous name aside.

Pharynx got up and breathed in deeply. Well, onto the other dozen options he could try.

"Pigeon," He called, "Let us try making you summon your weapon of choice."

Pigeon looked his way. "Does it involve imagination and extreme focus, like with all other spells?"

"Yes." He said bluntly.

"Then why don't all of the other spells work?" There was frustration tinged in his voice, though he hid it well.

Pharynx shrugged. "All magic-wielding species have an innate sense. Maybe yours is just pitifully weak. It sounds like a skill issue to me."

Pigeon let out a sigh. "Alright, I will try it, Commander."

Pharynx nodded.

Pigeon turned around, getting ready, then paused.

He turned his head back to Pharynx. "Wait. How will I bring my favoured weapon if my memory is mostly wiped?"

Pharynx mentally winced. He disagreed with Pigeon's "penalization" completely. It was much easier to punish a criminal when that criminal deserves to be punished.

When the convict can't even remember most of said criminal's existence, then blaming the convict was hard. He wanted it to be so that one could bash a convict against a wall and not have the convict wonder why he was being bashed into a wall. The fact that Pigeon didn't seem to care about having his memory wiped (Likely an effect of the magic spell) was even more unnerving.

Pharynx regained his senses, though. "You should likely be able to remember it either subconsciously or through horn memory." He said "Or maybe you can't, I don't know. I am really wondering what was erased from your mind and what wasn't."

Pigeon shrugged, and got back to trying to cast the spell. He activated his horn and started focusing. The glow of his horn increased and-

There was a 'pop' of sorts, and out came some sort of... hybrid between a metal stick and a wooden one.

Pigeon stiffened at the sight of it, likely surprised by how he was finally able to do magic.

Pharynx walked over and observed the stick hybrid that was currently held in Pigeons strange levitation. It appeared to be covered in mostly wood, though there was parts of metal sticking out, so there could be more metal inside. It was likely a botched attempt at summoning some sort of crossbow, likely. There was no magic emanating out of it.

Pigeon appeared to be still shocked at the sight of it.

Pharynx snorted. "Come on, Pigeon. Unsummon it and try to summon something else, like a crossbow."

Pigeon stared at the strangely uniform looking stick-thing for a few more seconds, then said "Yes, Commander." and did just that.

Pharynx let a smile grace his muzzle. "Well, you are able to do magic. Thought I'd never see the day."

Pigeon gave him a friendly, if tired, look of disapproval.

Pharynx laughed for the first time in days. "Oh, deal with it you big grub!"

Pharynx and Pigeon walked silently through the grey walls of hethicus.

They would engage and talk to each other occasionally.

Pharynx decided that Pigeon was a good 'ling. Oh, he would trust his soldiers over him any day, but that mind wipe of his must have made him a better lint.

"The hive seems to be in a panic of sorts." Pigeon mused.

Pharynx agreed. Some areas were either eerily silent or incredibly busy. "Well, what with the fact that they know that ponies are now looking for us, there is some tensity and-" Pharynx stopped. Pigeon was staring at him in dead silence. "Did no 'ling seriously tell you of this?" Pharynx said incredulously.

Pigeon gave him a silent response.

Pharynx shook his head in disbelief. "How many 'lings do you regularly talk to?"

Pigeon stopped, clearly in thought. "About 4, I think. Well, including you." He replied.

Pharynx frowned, stopping beside him. "And who would those other 3 be?"

"Ocellus, Locust, though she barely counts, and Thorax, of course."

Pharynx twitched. "Thorax?"

"Yes, he is a drone-"

"I know who Thorax is, Pigeon. He's my brother."

Pigeon raised his eyeridge. "He's your brother?"

"Yes."

"Huh. Small w- hive."

"Small hive?"

"You know, what with how people have connections to others in ways you don't expect."

"...You know what, Pigeon?"

"What?"

"Let's go see Thorax."

"He in trouble?"

Pharynx coughed. "No." He turned to look at Pigeon. "Just have questions, if you understand my point."

"Wait. You question everyone who interacts with me?"

"We question everyone who has interacted with you majorly and regularly on how they met you, how you act so far and tell them that if any incidents happen we may want to call upon them."

"You've already done this to everyone else?"

"Yes."

Pigeon grimaced at the image he was clearly imagining.

"Oh don't worry," Pharynx said "It isn't done harshly."

Pigeon still seemed to have doubt written on his muzzle, but digressed. He observed Pharynx.

"Why haven't you done so to Thorax, then?"

"Likely because he is a drone, and some 'lings still see fit to underestimate them." Pharynx replied with a derisive snort.

The area around them was dreary, walls of grey ever present. The hive was not much for decorations, he remembered Pigeon mention once. There was no need for decor, and changeling drones made hethicus to emit a soft "level" of light. Unnoticeable, yes, but necessary for changelings to see. If a pony were to enter, said pony would wonder how it was possible to see without a clear light source in sight.

Once, it was said that hives would have complex inlets of sunlight to shine down, instead of glowing grey hethicus, but once was not now.

Pharynx started walking towards where Thorax likely was. In their cubby, since the workday had ended.

Pharynx looked back to Pigeon. "You likely don't know where Me and Thorax's cubby is, do you?"

"No. Cubby?"

"Place of living. Where do you sleep, anyway?"

"On the floor, in some corner."

"Hm. Well, follow me."

Author's Note

Inform me of my unwise choices.

Rather short chapter, and will have to comb through to insure of its form.

Generic hive-integrated lodging

His cubby was normal. Standard. Nothing special in the place he and his brother lived. It could fit more 'lings, yes, but there was no other family to live with. Not anymore.

No 'ling had too dissimilar a cubby: same rooms, same area, same notch. Of course, the interior could be somewhat decorated. Chrysalis was quite literally the only one with special living arrangements, her room being vast and luxurious.

Well, he supposed sleeping on the ground, homeless, was a special living arrangement for Pigeon, if it could be called that. It was a strange thought, seeing as to the hive provided and built a cubby for 'lings, and one didn't pay for it like outside of the hive-lands. It was just provided when you left the nursery. You were told 'hey, thats your cubby,' you said 'alright.' and slept there.

He stopped at the entrance, Pigeon beside him.

"An uncovered entrance?" Pigeon queried.

Pharynx gave him the strange look he found himself constantly giving Pigeon. "Changelings have no need of doors. Why can you only remember basic infiltration knowledge anyway?"

He didn't give him a chance to reply, turning to the entrance.

"Thorax!"

There was a small period of silence. He might have disturbed a sleeping Thorax. Hah! Good for him.

"Pharynx?" Thorax's voice came through, a question clearly infused in it's tone, albeit a nervous one.

"I'm going to have to question you about your contact with Pigeon. Just informing you so you don't freak out on me."

He then entered without waiting for a reply, leaving Pigeon all alone.

Pigeon stood in silence. Then he looked around, as if hoping Locust was to mysteriously appear and tell him what to do.

She didn't.

Was Pigeon supposed to follow Pharynx? Did he miss something?

Pigeon sat on his bottom and waited patiently.

Then he yawned.

It wasn't that long before Pharynx came back to the entrance with Thorax beside him.

"I told you not to freak out," He grumbled, "But that didn't stop you from doing just that!"

"You didn't give me much of a warning!" Thorax protested. "I didn't know what was happening! Of course I freaked out!"

"You should learn not to." Pharynx said disapprovingly.

"Well, I- Oh, hey Pigeon." Thorax had noticed him.

"Hello."

"So... How are you?"

Pigeon shrugged "I'm alright. Slept on the floor to rest. A good opportunity."

"Really?" Pharynx asked "You should be more alert than that, Soldier."

"...But I thought that I had to wait for you?"

"Wait and be alert."

"Sorry, Commander."

"Don't let it happen again."

"Wait."

Pharynx and Pigeon angled their heads towards Thorax, the offender who had spoken the last word so far.

"You sleep on the floor?"

"...Pigeon here has no cubby."

"What! Every 'ling has a cubby!"

Pigeon gazed down at the grey, hard floor he had been resting in.

"I don't." Was he sad? Bitter?

"Well, that's just not right! What if you lived with us?"

Silence was present for no more than a few moments.

Both larger 'lings coughed simultaneously.

"What?" They said, also simultaneously.

"Thorax, are you insane?" Pharynx let out, throat hoarse. "You want Pigeon to live with us?"

"Why not?" said Thorax, "We have room."

"Wel- Ye- But he might as well be a stranger!"

"Who else is going to take him in? Besides, it's not uncommon for 'lings to take others in if they have space."

"We could assign him to one of the empty cubbies that line the hive since the massacre!"

"The cubbies that we drones are dismantling daily to repair the constant mole attacks? The ones that are off limits to every 'ling, else there will be harsh consequences?"

"Yes, but we don't know him well enough to trust him!"

"If we can't trust our own guards, who can we trust?"

"Literally everyone else!"

"Does he seem like a bad 'ling to you?"

"You are inviting a stranger to our home!"

"He can't hurt us. He doesn't even know what his name was, or why he is a penal 'ling at all."

Pharynx gazed at Pigeon, who was staring off into who knows where, looking as though he had watched ponies disguise themselves as changelings.

"Alright, fine."

"...What?"

"I said fine."

"But- No further argument?"

"No."

"I- I came out on top?"

"Don't count on it, brother."

Thorax was confused, as though waiting for his brother to laugh and admit a cruel joke of sorts. Why would his brother accept?

Pigeon looked as though about to crumble at the weight of the hive-shattering revelations being thrown on him.

Pharynx walked towards the entrance of him and Thorax's cubby- their cubby, then stopped and looked behind him, red eyes not betraying any emotion.

"Well? You coming or not?"

"So, this is a cubby."

He looked around himself as though he had never been in the inside of a- oh, wait. He never had been inside a cubby, Pharynx realized.

"Yes."

It was humble. Grey walls, a room with a similarly grey table. Pigeon couldn't see the sleeping place.

Thorax joined the conversation. "Yes! And that right there is our sleeping notch!" He said proudly.

"Sleeping notch?"

The sleeping notch was a rather large notch in the table room he hadn't noticed till now. It was big enough to fit about 4 'lings, if one had not a single problem with being hugged on all sides by either chitin or hethicus. In fact, there seemed to be no other room but the table room.

"...This is the place we sleep?"

"Yes." A blunt reply from the Commander.

"Doesn't look that much more comfortable than the floor."

"I can throw you out, if you want." Pharynx's reply was humourless.

"...It actually looks very comfortable, on second thought." Pigeon stopped. "Wait. We all sleep here?"

"Yes."

"All of us."

"Do you see any other sleeping notches nearby?"

"..."

"I am squished."

"It's not that bad."

"This was evidently not meant for 4, but 1. We 'lings were evidently all scammed."

"Shut up."

"Now you talk?"

"Shut. Up."

"...Fine."

"I regret agreeing to let you in our cubby."

"I stopped talking!"

"You didn't stop taking up space."

"Why did you think I felt there needed to be more sleeping areas instead of just one."

"...You might be right. But that doesn't make you stop taking up space!"

"You see Thorax! Even your brother agrees with me. However grumpily he did so."

"But we still fit, don't we?"

"Barely."

"So, I need to guard the... Heth? The one you gave me directions for? What does it even do?"

"The Heth produces hethicus. You should know this already. Even if you didn't, it's name is self-explanatory. You really don't need me to teach you everything." Locust was quite clearly annoyed.

"Yes, I do need to ask you for everything." His first attempt at sarcasm that he could remember! "So, the Heth is where all the drones vomit out the the hethicus?"

"Obviously. It also happens to be the place where we store excessive amounts of it." Indeed, despite her large annoyance, she happened to always be a gold mine of information that could simply not include more side notes for him. Never change, Locust. Never change.

"We only have one "Heth", huh?"

"Yes. If our hive was bigger, we would have more, but it isn't."

"Is there even any more hives other than this one?"

"No. Not anymore."

"Really?"

"The abandoned one in the winterlands doesn't count."

"Winterlands? Winter - lands? We choose the best places to place hives, don't we."

"A hive needs to be hidden."

"So this hive in the "winterlands," how is it dead?"

"Only the Queen knows."

He sat stock still.

"... And how old is the queen for her to be the only one who knows?"

"A good few centuries or more, I don't know."

Wonderful! The queen was the oldest living being to ever exist, apparently. They weren't even sure of her exact age, because apparently no 'ling had asked her!

"... How do you know this dead hive even exists anyways? She tell you about it?"

"Sometimes 'lings are sent there to pick hethicus or some other thing up. I was one of them. So was my cousin."

"Really? How does it look like?"

"Like it was abandoned a long time ago. If a 'ling isn't careful or has a bad sense of direction, whoever it is could get lost on the way there. End up in that area that used to have a city-state of sorts or on the frozen end of the Tibetian sea. It's why we are always sent in groups"

"Tell me about this Tibetian sea and city-state."

"..."

"...Well?"

"Go to the Heth and do your work. Don't get too bold. For all I know that is the reason your a penal guard."

Pigeon winced.

Collecting himself, he turned around and walked toward where she had said the Heth was.

When he reached it. He decided he didn't want to know what was going on inside. The sounds that came out proved to him that his decision was rather wise, even if he only thought so himself.

Author's Note

A short chapter, eh?

Perhaps I'm simply not of those who have the energy to create long ones.

Or perhaps I'm impatient. That would be something I would desire to fix.

May become longer due to editing.

Structural Instability

He breathed in deeply.

Things were finally becoming a bit more... stable.

He had a home. And a bed. Of sorts.

He was somewhat content.

The world still needed to make more sense, but that could be done later. Understanding weird things was not something he wanted to do at the moment.

He still had yet to find a solution to the sleeping space problem, despite it being a few months since his finding of a home. He didn't know how to make another notch or whether it would open up somewhere else. Thorax was unwilling to tell him and refused excavation, citing something about the age old cubby uniformness. It was a bit frustrating, but it was still better than the floor.

How durable were walls of.. organic regurgitated material anyway?

They seemed rock hard, but he was somewhat sure that most carbon based materials were not very durable compared to rock.

But he wasn't a biologist, so he wouldn't know. For all he knew his fingernails were high up on Mohs hardness scale. Oh. Wait. He didn't have those.

"Pigeon!"

He paused.

"Ocellus. Huh. Not out doing infiltrator stuff?"

Ocellus frowned. Approaching him at an even pace, she sat at the edge of the nursery, looking in at the grubs.

"Infiltrator 'stuff' never lasts long, Pigeon. And besides, just calling it 'stuff' is belittling the entire food source of the hive."

"...that's a good point. So, back from your infiltrator mission, safe and sound?"

"Yes. Not tired at all, so no need to rest back at my cubby."

"I'm still enjoying the one I got. Better than sleeping on the ground."

"Still can't believe that you didn't have a cubby a few months ago. I live on the outskirts of the hive, right next to they sky, yet I still share one with my family."

"I am not allowed to go to the outskirts." Pigeon said. "It's considered 'outside.'"

"Cubbies on the outskirts are outside. You get out of one, and you see the sky." Ocellus looked around. "Don't tell anyone I said this, but I prefer the incredible sky to be what I see when I walk out of the cubby compared to a dark, grey roof."

"I wouldn't know. Not very sure what the sky looks like. Well. I have an idea what it should look like, but I'm still not very sure."

Ocellus stared at him.

He winced. Not being sure of things meant admitting his lack of knowledge. He just wished people didn't look at him like that. He could never tell whether it was just shock or something else entirely. He was 90% what it was supposed to look like, but again, he was in magical insectoid horse land.

"You don't know how the sky looks like?"

"..I have a rough idea? I think I know what it looks like but I'm not sure. It's supposed to be blue, right? I mean in the morning. At night, its black?"

"Do you know the colour of the sky in the summer months?"

"Isn't it still blue?"

"No! It's a rich, incredible, gold!"

"The sky is golden in summer?"

Ocellus shook her head furiously. "If you are ever allowed to go outside, I will show you the sky."

Nothing was said for a while, likely because Pigeon was shocked and still processing, and Ocellus was calming down.

Ocellus was still gazing at the young 'lings in the crèche when Pigeon regained his senses.

"...Thank you?"

She still seemed distracted. But she responded anyway.

"I'll go in the nursery now."

He watched her walk toward the grubs. It was amazing how their faces lit up instantly that the sight of her. They stopped their play fighting and employed a token effort to sit neatly in a line in front of her.

The effort was to fail, but Ocellus decided to step in and organize the troop. She successfully got them to be in a straight line. Now, she faced a greater challenge still: keeping them that way.

She was finished, and it was off to 'bed' for the young ones.

She trotted up to him, paused, then told him "I meant what I said."

"Thank you."

"Thank me when you get to see the sky in summer."

"If I ever do."

"If they don't overwork you, that is. You still watch them after they fall asleep, and I find that ridiculous. No 'ling in our history has ever sleepwalked, unlike ponies."

"My rationale is that they might wake up and decide to explore."

"Could be solved with the doors the other species like to use everywhere. Say what you will, guarding the nursery is simply to rest parent's hearts."

"Parents are satisfied that their children are being guarded by a proclaimed criminal?" The doubt in his tone was infused to the fullest extent.

"They don't need to know who is guarding, just that their children are being guarded."

"That sounds careless."

"You're always being watched."

She turned around. "Now that you are somewhat more trusted, you will likely spend more time guarding the Heth."

"...You think I'll leave the nursery?"

"I think you will be forced to guard both."

"Both?"

You will guard the nursery and the Heth. Locust will probably give you a routine."

He grimaced. More work? Could he handle it? He hoped so. He'd try, anyway. A routine, huh?

Wait.

"You know Locust?"

"Who do you think interrogated me? Besides, she's my cousin."

"Locust is your cousin?"

"Yes."

"Are you close?"

"Define 'close'"

"Good friends?"

"You could say that. We talk every once in a while. She talks about you occasionally."

Eyes widened in disbelief and shock was the expression Pigeon had painted practically everywhere on his body.

"Only good things, I hope?" Pigeon said, letting his head drift towards the nursery as he muttered the formality. He was surprised that Locust even bothered to recount his existence to another living being.

One of the grubs in the nursery had fell on top of another who had immediately subconsciously shook the intruder of and- were they play fighting in their sleep? Was Ocellus sure not a single 'ling had the capability to sleep walk?

"She thinks you're an unintelligent grub who pokes his muzzle into everything as though looking for one last wisp of love." Ocellus said, drawing back his attention. "Which is better than her thoughts on ponies, so she will probably try to protect you. Unless it puts any other 'ling in more danger of course."

"Flattering." He muttered.

She poked him with her leg-holey-thing. "Hey, don't be mopey. If you do become mopey, you will just suffer in misery for the rest of your existence and no one will care."

"Okay. I won't be mopey."

"Good. And besides-"

Whatever Ocellus was to say was interrupted by screams.

A 'ling he hadn't even noticed (was that 'ling hiding on purpose?) started running off somewhere.

The Ground started shaking. The ground wasn't supposed to be shaking. He thought. He hoped that this was a normal every once in a while thing tha- Ocellus looked worried.

Oh no.

The fall of hive Chrysaliy

He turned another corner, the grubs following them. He wished that the caretakers hadn't left for sleep. And that mysterious 'ling who was probably the one assigned to watch him.

He was currently following Ocellus. She knew the way to- he didn't know where they were going. She simply told him to follow her.

Turning another corner, they came upon a grisly sight. Or, one could just say a pile of bodies.

Ocellus gaped, but had enough awareness to guide the young grubs to the other corrider.

"This shouldn't be possible!" She practically hissed. "The throne blocks out all magic except changeling magic! How are we being invaded? Why is the ground shaking?"

There were metal arrows (If they could be called that) sticking out of the bodies. It was a surprisingly calm observation that he made.

"Maybe it wasn't entered with magic?" He offered, pointing at the bodies as best he could. He had to fight to not allow his voice to sound shaky. He couldn't panic. If he did, they might die.

He didn't want any of them to die.

Ocellus shook him out of his thoughts.

"We need to go."

The roof shook ominously another time. He hadn't heard a scream for a while, though he didn't know whether that was a good or bad thing.

They travelled onwards. So far there were no more bodies in sight, which he was rather grateful for.

The roof kept shaking in an almost procedural manner, as though to remind them of their situation. By the time they reached their destination, Ocellus and Pigeon had one grub on each of their backs due to their apparent exhaustion. He was skeptical of the idea at first, but Ocellus convinced him to do it. There were 50 grubs behind him who wanted a turn, unfortunately. Maybe he'd reach his destination before it was the next ones turn.

They reached a place he hadn't been to before. It had changelings churning down a smooth, sloped, and giant gaping hole as though it was a water funnel and they were the water. Some changeling warriors were directing the evacuation, though there were a few infiltrators helping.

Changelings were all around them, talking and generally panicking.

Pharynx was among them, though he hadn't noticed him in the clamour until said 'ling took notice of them.

"Soldiers, the last nursery group has arrived!" He barked and, almost instantly, there was a good couple of them leading the grubs down the hole.

"Pharynx!" Ocellus shouted to be heard "Who is invading?"

Pharynx didn't glance back as he answered.

"Some new special operative ponies that we somehow missed. They didn't attack with traditional magic. They look like pegasi if you attached bat wings to them instead of bird wings." He looked around distractedly, ready to holler orders. "Probably connected to the new pony princess."

He looked back. "What are you doing, standing there? Get down the tunnels!"

They did.

The change from the grey of hethicus to the mute colours of the underground was startling.

He and Ocellus were just... running.

According to her, the tunnels had multiple exits and paths, so much, in fact that it really wasn't a surprise when they, who had done a conscious effort to stick together, had lost every other 'ling.

It was still almost unbelievable, though.

It was likely another reason, she had mentioned, as to why the tunnel was sealed. It may have been a mole tunnel that found its way through somewhere uncovered with hethicus.

She didn't think escaping aboveground was a good idea.

He was inclined to agree. If the ponies invaded the hive, no way they didn't try to make sure no one got out.

She had made a low glow with her horn, the only thing allowing them any semblance of sight.

Why couldn't they see without light, anyway? Couldn't insects see in the dark? Maybe they couldn't.

He was starting to wish he was a biologist.

The ground was starting to shake, and Ocellus started running faster.

How could Ocellus run this fast? What speed had she infused in her legs?

He had longer legs and yet she could run faster.

Maybe he should exercise more.

Dirt erupted behind him.

He shouldn't look back. He really shouldn't. Everything was shaking, and a pile of earth fell beside him, narrowly avoiding killing him.

The roof was falling down.

He rushed out of the tunnel and into daylight.

He closed his eyes. He had just narrowly avoided death from whatever was behind him.

God, he wished he was back in time. No one tried to kill him a few hours ago.

Opening his eyes the tunnel they were just in appeared to have collapsed.

He hoped whatever chased them wasn't going to pop out of the ground. Maybe it went away.

Looking around he-

Was that green?

He was bewildered.

Was grass supposed to be this green and... bright?

The penal 'ling knew grass was green, but this grass seemed to be too green.

Huh. He was lying on grass. Grass!

Pigeon stood up.

The guard was outside.

Wind was blowing against his carapace.

"Pigeon?"

That was Ocellus. He returned to reality.

She looked tired. Her ...mane? was messy and soil seemed to inhabit it like a parasite.

The infiltrator was gazing off into the distance, towards-

Oh.

That tall grey skyscrape-palace was the hive, wasn't it?

From here he didn't see anything very different about it.

Certainly not that it was being invaded. It didn't seem to be on fire or anything. No ominous smoke was billowing out of it.

Ocellus jerked back, as if struck.

He turned toward her.

"Are you okay?"

"Didn't you feel it?" She said. "The queen is dead."

"...You can sense that the queen is dead?" He replied skeptically.

"You can't? ...That shouldn't be possible. Does being penalized sever your connection to the queen?"

"I don't know. Is there some sort of next in line for the throne?"

"No. Chrysalis was exceedingly.. paranoid about successors. Maybe she was part of the reason we are in this situation." There was a bitter tinge to her tone.

"What chased us down there?"

"A mole. I hope the others got away unharassed."

"Bigger than I thought moles were."

She snorted. "That one was likely a juvenile."

She turned her eyes once more towards the hive.

"The ponies are probably dealing with the biggest mole infestation in hive history. Maybe it'll give them some pain."

She stared at the hive.

Said 'ling kept doing it till Pigeon shook her out of her staring.

"Well, where should we go?"

"we should probably head- I don't know. I really don't. Everything was kind of hanging on having a hive."

"What about the old one?"

She whirled around towards him. "How do you know about that?"

"Locust told me."

Ocellus sighed. "She always did have a tendency to talk too much." She gave what he said some thought. "That might work. Some of 'lings might have gone there. But we will need to find transport. Which means going to a pony town or village since that happens to be the civilization that surrounds the hive." The tone made it clear that she didn't feel eager about that.

They got up and walked in a random direction, in hopes of bumping into something.

They did not look back. They knew the fate that awaited the hive.

Author's Note

[EDIT] No map needed. Just transport.

Welcome to the Sky

He was outside, so he should be happy.

The sky was a brilliant healthy blue- wait.

"Hey Ocellus!" He hollered. "The sky is blue!"

Ocellus paused. Then she smiled, if with a touch of pain. "It's spring, Pigeon."

The landscape didn't look like it could decide what it was, but it was still was new and interesting and very much more beautiful than the hive. But the hive was the closest thing to home he knew - since he couldn't remember having one - and it was under an invader's hands. His appreciation of open air had to be cut short by himself.

Pigeon knew about ponies of course, through Locust's anger rants. Well, her and every other ling in the hive. He had a guess as to how they looked from what he could recall of them.

He had yet to see one, however. He saw the corpses they left behind, but nothing more than that. It was jarring that a group with such a friendly sounding name was capable of such violence.

It was a surprisingly short amount of time before Ocellus, whom he was following, alerted him to pony civilization. A town of sorts was there, wooden houses neatly populating it. The creatures milling about them were like changelings, but furry and colourful. It was a stark contrast to what he was used to, but they somehow managed to fit in perfectly with their surroundings. Really, they fit into the "horse" category better than changelings did, though that wasn't exactly a very high bar.

They all seemed to have a pleasant and agreeable attitude, so much so that if he had not witnessed from afar the multiple times they would sometimes devolve into arguments and once even had a minor fight he would have thought that he had mistaken the wrong species as the culprits for his home's destruction. A paltry sum of guards were present.

This was the species that he fed off from? Well, actually, that made some sense. If they weren't a species full of "love" than they probably wouldn't be the main source of it.

When Pigeon had first found out that the pink mist was literal love he was full of inquiries. Finding out about it was strange, but he was already surrounded by strangeness and was mainly curious as to how it worked. It wasn't all that bad, from what he could discern.

There were much worse types of parasites that he knew of.

"Let's disguise ourselves in the city. They're likely searching the nearby ones. I would delay even further before any infiltration events, but we need sustenance somehow."

"I'm horrible at disguises. At least, according to Pharynx."

Ocellus turned on him in an unimaginable speed.

Ocellus had drilled him even harder on looking like a pony than Pharynx had. Pigeon not knowing the importance of disguises felt like an impossibility.

By the time they had gotten to someplace called Appleoosa, he was drilled a hundred times, or so it felt. But he had somehow nailed down a decent enough disguise by infiltrator standards. Ocellus had still made it clear that she was nervous that a pony would notice something was up, and had decided to keep him from doing much at all. Looking like a sky blue unassuming "earth" pony as his disguise, his companion disguising as a bright pink unicorn that would have him suffer from eye damage if he kept her in his line of sight for too long.

Walking into Appleloosa, he couldn't help but stare at everything. It was all so bright for a desert - if it could be called one. Patches of bright green grass were a stark contrast to the yellow sand that outnumbered it. He was pretty sure the grass from his memory could not reach this amount of general brightness.

He was in the disguise and greeted the guards wearing bright golden armour, out of place in what looked like a stereotypical "wild west" town. He was somewhat sure that they were experiencing the agonizing pain of being boiled but were trying to hide it as best they could. Ocellus had told him going in that they were likely put there as a precaution to catch any escapees from the hive.

Ocellus had talked to the guards whom had written their names down on a paper. They both had to stand still as the guards used magic to take pictures of them.

But that was all they did. They wrote down everything and made note of it, but nothing more. He half expected a passport check, or something similar.

Passing the guards he and Ocellus found a motel fairly quickly.

They had no money - and he was somewhat sure they wouldn't be allowed in - but Ocellus acted like a poor lost traveller who took a wrong turn. He doubted its effectiveness, but thought he may as well play along. That was to say, he frowned convincingly. To his surprise, the motel manager seemed to soften.

"Aw, well no worries honey, I'm sure you could spend a night here on the house. Just not more than that, I'm sorry. I reckon you could find a way back home very soon, though. Just ask around and you'll be home before you know it!"

In the motel room, he talked quickly to Ocellus.

"Is there no sort of official paper or way to identify who is who?" It was a quick blunt question, bought on by how easy it was to bypass a literal checkpoint.

"You just saw it. It is a recent sort of thing, and a faulty one. Started a bit after the wedding massacre. It just means you can't use the same identity or alibi for long, and can't stick to one place for long either, as they'll send it it to Canterlot to check the legitimacy of your identity. Now, wait here, and I'll locate the ones we are looking for. It won't take long and we'll be quick as they'll send it to the crown who'll check if you actually are a pony. It's why we won't be staying here for long. Now, you'd better remember the plan - and execute it properly."'

"Understood." He nodded as dutifully as he could.

And it really wasn't long before she did.

He was lying in the bed that was provided for them (which he could attest were at least a good couple of times more comfortable than a sleeping notch), when Ocellus shook him awake and brought him to the bar.

He really had no interest going there and it smelled of intoxication that he had no desire to approach, but it was quite apparently where the lucky two had taken place, and they were both isolated at this time. The bartender had unwisely left the premises.

He had wondered how Ocellus had known about the poor duo, and it was quite apparently coincidence - in fact, she was going to do the very thing they were doing, even had the hive not fallen.

Standing guard was something he was very used to at this point. Just because he was now guarding an almost ridiculously western style bar, complete with swinging doors and all really didn't change the simplicity of guarding. Well, it got more complex if you added more doors, but that wasn't an issue here.

He was assured that the only entrance was the front, and as far as he cared, if what they were doing was ever found out ponykind could blame the architect for not constructing a bar that would effectively make it harder for the changeling species (the one that said architect didn't know existed at the time) to infiltrate equestrian society.

It was almost morning, though not quite, and no one seemed to be around, so he let his guard down a notch and peered through the doors he was guarding to watch.

Ocellus had approached the rather... drunk couple. Currently no one but them was there and they seemed to barely notice the blinding pink-tinted pony among them.

Ocellus stood still, smiling, exchanging a few words with them. Then she lit up her horn and shot two magical shots at each one.

The couple were knocked out on impact. Ocellus called to him, and he entered almost immediately. She lit up her horn and seemed to focused.

"Take the bags while I wipe their memory."

He paused. He hadn't thought of it when he heard the plan, but...

"Is this somewhat similar to my punishment?"

The infiltrator tensed. "No. That was.. different. It was rather... old magic." She glanced at the snoozing ones they robbed. "Here I'm just making it so unfocused on one particular short memory of me knocking them out that they don't recall it, in the case the alcohol doesn't do the job."

"Alright." Alcohol, he mused, seemed to be an easy excuse. He decided silently to stay away from it.

He sorted through the bag. Clothing to protect against cold weather with spares, a large, warm sleeping bag that could fit 3 ponies - he'd make sure to keep that close - spare food and drinks, a tent,some wood - likely firewood, a book titled "A basic guide to Pyromancy spells" Oh, and the most essential train tickets.

Ocellus finished her spell than morphed to look like one of the duo. He tried his best to emulate the other, though he couldn't be sure of its quality.

They had finished their impromptu packing and were heading out of the bar. He was excited to leave the place. It irritated him though he didn't know why.

Ocellus stopped suddenly, and he stopped too. She seemed to have suddenly thought of something.

"Pigeon, can you go outside first?"

It was a strange request, and though he was curious as to why, he had been taught back at the hive that when a tone of voice like that was employed, one had to follow first, ask questions later. It was a painful lesson.

He opened the swinging oak doors as Ocellus stood to the side by the wall.

He walked outside to the dark dusk that was night and looked around. It was quiet. Nothing seemed to move and he could clearly take notice of his breath.

Then someone fell on top of him.

It was a startling event that reminded him of Pharynx's attempts to train him. Instead of buckling and laying down on the ground he turned and instinctively summoned the knife he was so used to using. It was met with immediate resistance so strong he almost let go of it.

It was a sharp silver blade that could only be characterized as a dagger that had stopped his knife. He was panicking and still trying to identify what was happening as the one who must have mistaken themselves for an anvil applied more pressure on the comparably dull iron of his own knife.

His attacker was a dark grey pony that was a sharp contrast to what he was used to from the species. Dark blue hair was what made up the mane and tail. The pony was smiling and sharp white fangs were present, putting him in an even more alert state.

As they struggled he heard the sound of a magic spell that also reminded him of his training. The attacker ducked and rolled to the side. From the corner of his eye he could make out a speeding bolt of magic.

Turning his head, he could see Ocellus with a purple shield around her. Another of the dark ponies dropped and seemed to be preparing to engage with her.

His knife clattered to the ground and he felt his opponents blade rest on his throat.

Then, in the next instant, a sound was heard - a sound of something piercing flesh and suddenly the edge of the blade seemed to pause. Taking the opportunity he looked to the side of where Ocellus was and the one that seemed just about ready to attack her was on the ground, a bolt in the skull.

The one whom had him under the dagger seemed to stagger and look up at the roof of the bar, and then staggered again when a bolt came from that very place and shot into his skull.

It was a gruesome sight, and as the pony fell on the ground, deader than a doornail, he could only stare. He slowly got up and took a closer look at the bloody corpse. The attacker seemed to be a well equipped fighter with a variety of pouches on a worn leather armband of a sorts. He had a look of shock etched to his face and eyes that looked so lifeless that he felt the two should never be brought together.

Then he regained the power to look away. Up on the roof there was another one of the ponies, whom hopped down from the roof and onto the ground. Green fire completely engulfed the shooter and a changeling came out of it's flames.

The changeling stared at Ocellus for a moment, orange eye's not betraying an emotion, when, in a rush, he opened his mouth and let worried words rush out.

"Tell me everything."

His infiltrator counterpart seemed bewildered by this question, and let out a surprised "What?"

"What happened to the hive?"

She stared at him. "Don't you know?"

The unknown ling was clearly shaken, any resemble of a calm demeanour gone. "They say the hive is no more - I don't know, I wasn't with the thestrals sent to attack it - but I - I felt the queen.. go. They say they killed her! " The mysterious changeling began shaking. "Is it true?"

"I- I think so, yes." Ocellus said, taken aback. "I saw it being attacked and it was evacuated. We barely got out of there alive and we all- well I felt the queen go."

The recent killer looked about ready to break down. "So it's true. If only I had infiltrated earlier. Maybe I could have known about the attack - those ones -" His head snapped towards the dead "- Knew, but assumed I had also known, what with it being received before I had replaced their squad member. I wasn't assigned to assault the hive, and when it was done - it was already over. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm -" He continued to babble. Pigeon didn't know what to do, and waited for Ocellus to do something.

It took a second, but she shook the distressed agent in front of her. "Not all hope is lost, we're going to regroup at the old hive." The ling stopped and looked up, an indiscernible expression on his face. She looked towards the two still bodies. "But first, we need to deal with those corpses. And get on the train. You can tell us everything there."

They'd stayed disguised as the two ponies, but their recent companion had returned to his thestral disguise.

It was early in the morning when they reached the train. They had given their tickets and were let through with smiles. Their disguised companion, on the other hand, was let through coldly, though he apparently didn't need tickets. He and Ocellus were given looks of sympathy, the type he might of expected for a funeral or something similar.

Entering the train it was colourful and exuded a modern appearance while maintaining the fact that it just wasn't. It was clearly made with comfort in mind - the seats themselves, covered in a soft cloth were so comfortable he was tempted to sleep on them, but he needed to stay alert so he settled with lying on it like a bed while listening in as a discussion was occurring. Windows let sunlight poke through, with cloth curtains elegantly done, like they were in the luxury area. They weren't.

" - none of my team made it in. Only I did. They all died, except Beetle - he was captured. I was waiting for orders of what to do but then the hive collapsed."

"Captured?"

"It might not seem like it, but that's the priority. The amount of dead in the hive apparently angered the new princess. Most lings are captured and sent to somewhere, probably the Canterlot dungeons, whatever happens there I don't know." Their new companion went by the name of Gnat - apparently the only ling to successfully infiltrate the Night Guard. Currently, he was regaling them with his tale - a sad one, at that. He was mostly ignoring him, but Pigeon wasn't offended in any way. He did have his curiosity sparked, however.

Gnat was currently their "guard" for their "mission" for "Equestria" to explore the north and find the reason for the magical fluctuations. Not that that they used that story at all - only an angry pony guard with the usual colours he saw poisonously asked what they were doing with him.

"Did Equestria not have a night guard before? As in, a group specially trained for operations in the dark of night?"

His companions seemed surprised at his speaking up, likely guessing that he was half-asleep.

Gnat answered him after a second. "No? Why bother?"

"...And how would they defend themselves against night assaults?"

"They don't get assaulted at all, as far as they're aware. It's why despite our own inability to see in the dark, we use it often." Gnat looked out the window and sighed. "Harder now. Thankfully the thestrals are in a small number and are generally distrusted. That, and they are still coming over from the moon to settle."

Pigeon went stiff. "What?"

Ocellus seemed enlightened "So they do come from the moon."

"How." asked Pigeon "Why."

Gnat shrugged "Apparently the new night princess went crazy and her sister threw her and the entire thestral subspecies on the moon. From what I could gather it's very hard to survive there, and they would be dead if not for the powerful magic's of their princess."

"That is a completely unreasonable thing to do. How is that even possible."

Gnat took a moment to gaze at the currently disbelieving ling "What's up with him, anyway. It's like he couldn't even feel the warning I sent through the Link. I get that guards are best at defense, not offense, but he could have prepared better."

Pigeon heard Gnat but was currently occupied questioning reality. Besides, it was clearly aimed at Ocellus. Looking out the window, he wondered why it wasn't approaching the afternoon yet. It had been a very long time for it to stay midday. Then the sun randomly decided to rapidly move into the position you would expect to be in for the afternoon.

Pigeon twitched violently.

Ocellus had paused in confusion, then it seemed to hit her. "Oh, Pigeon just isn't Linked."

"What?"

"He couldn't feel the queen dying either."

"Why isn't he Linked? No, nevermind, how isn't he Linked?"

Ocellus grimaced. "It probably had something to do with his penalization."

"Pigeon is penalized?" He seemed to look at Pigeon differently "But that hasn't been used in many - why would the queen-"

"The official reason is that he's the last guard we have." She seemed to become sadder "All the others died."

Gnat glanced at the aforementioned penal guard. "He doesn't seem like I would imagine a penal ling."

"Utterly loyal and with no emotions whatsoever?" She guessed "Well, he has moments in which he seems emotionless and as for loyal -" She stopped, looked towards Pigeon, who wasn't hearing them as he was busy pondering.

"Pigeon!" She called softly. He raised his head towards her questioningly. "Sit up and fake a cough now." He opened his mouth as if to ask why but she expected him to do so. "No questions asked." He spent a moment looking confused but sat up and tried his hardest to make a convincing cough. It wasn't very good, though it would be enough to fool most ponies.

"Alright, that's good. You can go back to resting now. Don't ask." He seemed clueless to a point but slowly returned to his spot and turned over, keeping his back turned towards them.

"That's what he does for most orders. If he can, he'll try to understand why, and if told he won't know why, he does it anyway. If you tell him in a certain way he won't even think to ask anything."

"So the spell does render them loyal."

Ocellus snorted. "That and the sessions he's had with the sizzling whip." She looked down ashamed. "He really doesn't deserve it."

Gnat blinked. "That's - That hasn't been used in a long while, I think. A few generations back, maybe. He- what'd he do? To deserve both penalization and a sizzling"

"Quite apparently he didn't help a ling or try relocate. He just - wandered. They found him. They believed that he was going to betray us to the ponies. He claimed that he was simply confused and wasn't a traitor but, he clearly wasn't believed."

"Did he really do it?"

"I don't know, and he certainly doesn't. The only memory he has begins with sitting in a cage, talking with Chrysalis."

"Queen Chrysalis."

"...Right. Well, he was set to guard the nursery, but he's very curious, and asked the wrong ling a question. That ling barely gave him a warning. If you look closely at his back, when he returns to his normal form, if you squint, you'll see the marks leftover." She sighed. "He didn't deserve it."

"But why did it render him Unlinked?"

"I don't know. Maybe there was a problem or a flaw. It was ancient magic, and it erased most of him."

"Huh. Well, come on then. Let's discreetly gather some love before we arrive at the north. I hope that you really are right and ling's are regrouping there. It just so far..."

"It isn't. It just seems like it is. It's incredibly close to the badlands."

"I know."

When the train rang, they got off, covered in furs as their only protection. They had to settle with the spare clothing for Gnat.

It was cold and it seemed to bite at them, as though constantly telling them where they were and under what weather. Pigeon knew he could handle it. The others seemed unaccustomed, however.

It was a white, a dazzling white that seemed to reflect light anywhere and everywhere, and the snow was everywhere, falling erratically as though unsure whether to turn into a blizzard or stay a calm, gentle snowfall. Fog seemed to limit their ability to see very far.

They trekked under what directions Ocellus knew towards the old hive, yet everything seemed so blinding that he wasn't sure if Ocellus truly knew the way. No matter. He would trust in her, and follow her command.

They walked, and walked, and Pigeon noticed the signs of fatigue appearing slowly on the both of them. He didn't feel as tired, and knew he had some more stamina to go before he began to feel tired.

Where they once were in front as they were quicker than him, easily surpassing him, he could now if he so wished take the lead as he still had more energy left in him. Ocellus cracked a smile and praised his stamina. He told her to save her energy, as they needed to get to the hive, but thanked her nonetheless.

"I don't suppose you spent a good portion of your life among the snow?" Gnat had asked. He shrugged. "I don't know."

Gnat had sighed and shook his head, a small "of course" being muttered.

The snowfall had stopped, though for how long he could not guess. It could be for a moment or a few days.

He had suggested rest, and they all agreed upon that course of action. Setting up the tent took little time, and they had done it under such a large tree that it covered them all in its shade, and they could have put another tent and it would also be covered. He didn't trust it's stability much, as it leaned over them and seemed to be dead. It was, admittedly larger than any tree he had ever imagined.

The 2 infiltrators had retired the tent and strangely refused to use the sleeping bags available. He could never understand why most lings preferred harsh cold ground when alternatives existed. Ah, well, it left him with the bag. But before he joined them in the tent, he took out the firewood and set up a fireplace. He briefly glanced at the book that came with it and snorted, adding it to the logs. Why have a book on starting fire's when one could do so without magic? He prepared some tinder and kindling. He took a log and summoned a knife, carving it with a deep indent. He unsummoned the knife and got to work starting a fire.

Before long, flames started to crackle and he felt pleased at his handiwork. He yawned, then made for the inside of the tent, sleeping bag in magic hand.

When Ocellus woke up, she felt strangely warm, if only a little. Leaving the tent, which was only occupied by Gnat, as it was clear that Pigeon had left a short time ago from the recently disturbed bag. Outside she found Pigeon sharpening his knife on whetstone. She didn't think he was capable of summoning it, but more surprising was the snuffed fire beside him.

How had Pigeon started a literal fire? She knew he wasn't proficient at magic, and doubted he knew a thing about pyromancy.

But it wasn't the time for questions. They had to get moving. Thankfully, Gnat must have woken up a few seconds after her as she heard him stir and get up.

It wasn't long before they set out again. She led them as best she could.

They reached it. It took time, and they were getting incredibly tired, but they did it.

When they got there, it looked dead. Deader than the tree the camped under. It seemed to retain a bit of it's majesty, but only in a wistful manner, for it had long lost any true meaning of it.

Gnat sent out a question with the link. He sent it out with hope and weariness, unsure of what he'd receive. Likely nothing.

But something did return. And when it did, He and Ocellus cried in happiness, as their guard companion looked on in confusion, but didn't dare ask. He didn't fully understand, but he didn't need to.

And out of the dead hive, came his brothers - adopted, perhaps, but his brothers nonetheless.

Author's Note

It took me more than a year to finish this.

Sad how long it took, but hey, I did it.

Hopefully I update faster with higher quality next time.

Oh, and correct me on the errors you notice of my grammar.

I sleep now.

[EDIT] Added the sun being magic. Violent twitches. Added the sky being blue in spring