Dreamwalker's Tale: Project Greenwood

With one last sweep, he was done. He stared at the wall, the shelves full of trophies, some more grisly in nature than others. His gaze wandered to the side, to the massive hoard of treasures of various kinds. A satisfied nod and he placed the duster back where it belonged. The massive ostrich feathers made it difficult to wield the thing properly, but it clearly was not meant for a unicorn of his size. Any creature of his size. Nevertheless, as far as he could tell there was little in this world that could not be fixed with a generous application of magic and intellect.

He turned his attention back to the firepit. He had given up on calling it a ‘stove’ long ago, because quite frankly, it was too primitive to be labeled as such. A bunch of rocks as a border for the layered wood inside, a cauldron jacked up on top. He did not mind the simplicity. In his first months here, it actually served to enhance the thrill of this adventure, this new life. And now, years later, just looking at the dreadful cauldron filled him with a sense of nostalgia and fondness. Oh, how often she had jested to put him in there and make a tasty stew out of him.

He chuckled as he walked over to the bubbling cauldron. A small wooden spoon floated over, gripped by his magic. Yet another taste test, because he wanted this broth to be perfect. He did not even flinch. Not anymore. The soup had been merrily bubbling away for hours now, the meat was most certainly tender. And the taste was not uncommon on his tongue anymore. While he did not eat any meat himself for obvious reasons, it had proven difficult to stick to an entirely vegetarian diet throughout. The Dragonlands offered so little in terms of edible vegetation. And really, it was just about habits. One could get used to the taste of meaty broth. Tolerate it, at least.

Another pinch of salt, a few freshly grounded pepper corns and he deemed it perfect. Any more meddling would threaten to overcorrect the aroma.

His gaze traveled towards the entrance. He saw specks of white lazily drifting by. The occasional gust of wind blew inwards, ruffled his mane with impotent force. The blue of the sky lured him there. So, with a sigh and a smile, he put the spoon back down and walked towards the mountain ledge. He sat down right at the edge, overlooking a massive expanse of land.

It was rough out here. Everything was oversized, it seemed. The dragons themselves included, lords and ladies of this hostile environment. Their prey was enormous. The food of their prey too. The mountains. The valleys. The rivers. The lava pools. Everything was gigantic. And he was just a small unicorn, an ant lost in between towering behemoths.

It made him chuckle.

But soon enough, his brow furrowed again. He had tried to stave off the intrusive thoughts as long as he could, but it was time to face facts: She was running late.

His eyes scanned the sky for familiar swirls in the clouds. She loved to play around with them, to draw little pictures in them, or burst through them, leaving a hole in the middle. She played, she said. She was an artist, he countered. She snorted and ruffled his head and he tried his best to tackle her. It always ended the same.

A grateful smile played on his lips, even as his eyes failed to see any trace of her. His love was a powerful beast, more than capable of looking after herself. There was no reason to worry. And just as he pondered reiterating that to himself, she appeared.

Her sleek body moved with grace across the sky, her deep blue scales reflected the sun like a sapphire. She spotted him, he assumed. Because she went into a dive, her magnificent wings tucked closer to her body as she picked up speed. She was trying to scare him, he could tell. And it made him grin in defiance. He braced himself. Sat down with intent. Kept his hooves in check. But once she came too close, his instincts still triggered and he shuffled back a few inches, until his rump hit the mountain wall.

And she landed with a very satisfied grin on her snout. “Made you flinch!”

He chuckled. “You did.” He had pride in spades, much like her. But his pride was not threatened. Not now, not by this — not by her. She lowered her head and he brushed his cheek against hers, felt the familiar heat in her snout, the rough texture of her scales. “Welcome home, gem.”

The usual reply… went missing. It was the second instance telling him that something was amiss. Not only was she late, she growled. He could feel it in their brief touch, even if she clearly tried to keep it hidden. A deep, dissatisfied rumble in the back of her throat that she failed to swallow back down.

She picked up on the fact that he had noticed and quickly scanned their cave for a distraction. “You were dusting the place?”

But he kept silent. Watched her. The subtle flexes of her muscles. How every couple of seconds, when she kept her snout shut, her teeth grinded a little. How her wings never quite seemed to come to rest. He looked back at the cave, followed her gaze. The place looked immaculate. Because he kept it clean and in order. His love was not messy per se, but they clearly had different standards for calling something ‘tidy’.

He allowed himself a smile for a brief moment. He never expected to adapt so well to domestic life. He never expected to end up as the house stallion when he set hoof on that ship so many years ago. Or to live in a cave of all things. But the reminiscing was clearly what she intended to conjure up, so he resisted and turned his attention to her. “You are upset,” he finally dared to state the obvious. Another low growl was her response, this time even audible. “Eclipse, please. Tell me.”

Gem — short for gemstone — was such a nice pet name. But it did not fit the situation. And she immediately recognized his concerns and care for her well-being when he used her name. It was disarming in a way she could not easily defend against. Her claws dug into the solid floor, leaving deep gouges as the stone yielded to her might. Fume rose from her nostrils and her wings flared again, displaying their beautiful night sky-pattern as she struggled to keep a lid on her anger. “He asked for our support,” she spat. “Again.”

It was a start. He knew that. He managed to make her talk about it, and from here on out, it would run its course. The dam was already broken. So instead of saying anything, he merely walked over to the kitchen area, making her subconsciously follow him. Albeit not too close. After all, her temper could be ridiculously volatile at times and he spent hours perfecting that meal.

“No,” she continued, picking up speed as she started to rant. “Actually, scratch that! He demanded our support this time!” She slammed her claw down in outrage. He very much preferred that. While it made the ground tremble a little, at least it did not leave gouges he would have to fix later somehow. “You should have heard him, Velvet! It was all ‘burn his enemies with the might of the sun’-this and ‘maybe stars are good for something too’-that!” Her tail whipped from side to side in agitation. “I could tear his throat out!” she hissed.

He grimaced. The use of names was special to them. Maybe that was a general couples-thing, he could not tell. He never talked much to other ponies about their love lives and this was the first time he actually tried to make such a social construct work at all. The first time he pursued someone in earnest. For her to use his name, despite how cute and affectionate she acted on any other day? This was bad, clearly.

He knew what she was ranting about, of course. It just did not quite add up yet. “What about your sister?” he asked. No matter how low said sister's opinion of him was, he accepted that they were close and cared for each other deeply. He had an easy arrangement with her. He did not bother her unnecessarily, and she did not try to talk her sister out of this ‘soft-hearted nonsense’, as she called their relationship.

Eclipse only flared her wings further, a roar even escaped her throat as the outrage mounted. “Flare is half the reason I am this angry in the first place!” Her voice, while not quite a yell yet, still reverberated throughout the room. “She thinks she can just negotiate her way out of any tight spot! But there is no reasoning with this tyrant anymore! His greed will devour the whole world and set aflame whatever puts up even a modicum of resistance.”

She was close to losing control. Velvet realized that, but Eclipse did not. He stepped up to her, pressed his hoof against her scaled leg. Her almost serpentine eyes, slitted with rage, fixed on him. “On the ceiling, sweet pea,” he asked.

Eclipse tilted her head back and opened her maw wide. Razorsharp teeth were bathed in eerie light before her breath weapon erupted from her throat. Swaths of noxious gas were pushed against the cold, hard stone in an urgent stream. Velvet watched the spectacle from the ground, marveled at it as he always did. Dragon breath weapons could take so many different shapes and forms. Fire breath, ice needles, some even vomited tides of lava. It had been a fascinating topic for his studies. But no other dragon he ever came across had a breath weapon like his Eclipse. There were others who exhaled gas. But her gas was unique. It looked like a nebula. Stars forming and dispersing within it. Rapidly changing constellations. It looked as if she was exhaling the night sky itself. Coupled with her deep blue scales and a similar pattern on her wings and she could turn invisible within her own attack.

He was quite familiar with the effect the gas had on his body, due to some misfortunate early arguments, her quick temper and his initial stubbornness. And a couple of more controlled experiments later down the line. But even knowing about the dangers of it, he could still appreciate the sheer beauty.

Once the stream slowed down and finally died, he tore his attention free and put his hoof against her leg once more. “Feeling better?”

Eclipse sat down with a low growl and a deep sigh. She avoided meeting his gaze. “I do not know what to do, Velvet.”

Dragons were prideful creatures. Admitting to that must have taken her a lot of effort. And he appreciated it. The least he could do in turn was to make it worth it. He sat against her, knowing full well that his presence alone would help her calm down and relax. Eventually. But he was not banking on that alone. He racked his brains for any hint, any solution, and suggestion he could make for her admittedly difficult situation.

“As your Dragonlord, he demands your respect and obedience,” he started. He could feel how she tensed up again. “He wants you to share in his vision of a dragon-ruled world. However, from what I know and understand of your people's customs and traditions — it is possible to challenge him for his title, is it not?”

Eclipse snickered. It was a good sound. If she was capable of showing humor, she was clearly getting over her rage. Still, he grimaced a little bit. His suggestion had not been meant as a joke.

“It is,” she admitted. “That said, he is the mightiest fire dragon we have ever seen or even heard about. His flames burn so hot that even fire-immune dragons wince in pain.”

Velvet furrowed his brow. “I see the issue, but there is an easy solution for that, is it not? Do not fight him with your brawns then. Fight him with your brains.”

Eclipse shifted her body to lie down. The last piece showing that the immediate crisis was over. He sat down on his belly in front of her head as her entire body curled around him. Back in the days after his arrival, when their fling was still new, he managed to appreciate the gesture on an intellectual level, but his instincts merely told him that he was in the grasp of a predator and he should run for his life. Now though? Having her all around him filled him with a sense of security he had never known before.

Velvet saw that wry, lopsided smile on Eclipse's face and leaned forward to place a kiss on her nose. He chuckled briefly as a plume of smoke escaped her nostrils. “My brains, you say,” she answered. “But we are dragons, love.”

And with that, they were seemingly back to teasing, jesting and ribbing each other. “So… what you are insinuating is that dragons are required to have no brains? That is such a shame, gem! And here I thought I had made a great catch with you!” He chuckled as her vaguely threatening growl filled the air. “I think I have made my point.”

Eclipse sighed. “I have had an exhausting flight to the summoning, a rather tiresome shouting match with our Dragonlord and an even more useless argument with Flare afterwards, not to mention the flight back. Can we talk about something other than this tyrant and his rampant madness? Or my sister's blinders?”

Velvet grinned from ear to ear. “With pleasure!” he exclaimed. “How about dinner? I made your favorite!”

Eclipse lifted her head off the ground and peered over at the firepit. She closed her eyes, focused her senses on her nose and her nostrils flared as she sensed the lingering aroma of that soup. A quiet purr emanated from her throat as she smiled and turned to him. “Velvet Dusk, I do not deserve you…!”

He blushed as her demeanor and body language changed. She was clearly as far from rage as he could get her…

Miles off the shore, a gigantic vortex in the ocean collapsed. Thousands of tons of water roared as they swooped in to fill the gap and bury a secret.

On said shores, two mangled bodies lay. Bloodied and bruised. Beaten to a pulp.

Of the many eyes watching the spectacle, the disaster, the unfortunate events, only two gleamed with tears and horror. Dragonlord Dagon was defeated. The mighty tyrant bested and banished into the deepest reaches of the sea, where his eternal flame would not be able to consume any more lives.

And with Eclipse's life dwindling, the shackles she cast upon him finally broke. Velvet teleported to her side in an instant. He stared at her body, stared speechlessly at the damage the battle had caused. Her beautiful wings, torn to shreds. Deep gouges along her flank, from whence she bled profusely. Piercing wounds from claws and horns, burnt scales. Half her face was a molten mess.

His application of spells was fast. Precise. Generous. Cauterization of the deep gouge on her flank, then a few spells to improvise a solution to staple together those holes. But she was bleeding. Too fast and from too many wounds.

“Velvet,” her voice called out. He grimaced, clenched his teeth. Her voice. It sounded so weak. So soft. Flare had always chided her for being too soft. But this was different. This was not about her unguarded heart, her passion, her empathy. This was about her life force as it quickly drained away.

“Velvet,” she repeated even weaker.

“No!” he half-yelled. “No, don’t you dare to—… I can fix this!” His horn thrummed with magic. A headache was already building up. He used too much, too quickly. These spells were advanced, complicated. Not meant to be rushed. But there was no time. Just. No. Time.

“Please, love,” she begged. She managed to lift her claw. Somehow. And cautiously stroked down his spine. He felt the tremble in her appendage. The implications made him shudder. “It is time for my star to set, Velvet.”

Her voice was barely audible. She grew weaker by the second. “Please,” he begged. And for the first time since he arrived on this dreaded beach, he dared to look her into the eyes. “Please don’t say that!” He hated how peaceful she looked. How content. How she could smile. He saw it even despite his blurry vision as hot tears streamed down his face and droplets splashed into the sand below. His throat grew tighter.

“Would you prefer that I lie to you?” Eclipse asked.

It was meant as a rhetorical question. He knew that. He tried to answer, but his voice failed. He felt like being choked. He nodded instead, right before he managed to croak his answer out anyway. “Yes! Just this one time, yes. Please, please lie to me!” His voice trembled as much as he did, and yet each new step pulled him closer to her.

Eclipse laid down her heavy head. The sand of the beach was nice. Warm and soft. The occasional wave lapped at her tail and the sound of the ocean was relaxing. All these worldly worries seemed to drift away further and further. And there was little to regret at this point. She glanced at this pony. This stranger from a distant land. They had found company with each other under such unlikely circumstances. And that it happened at all, it made her grateful. He had made her happy. A sigh escaped her. “I cannot bring myself to do so,” she refused. She raised her claw and tapped against the orange gemstone her necklace was inlaid with. One of three gems.

It was not about the gemstone. They both knew that. It was about her staying true to herself. She had never been good at lying or even omitting the truth. But she always had the strength to stand up for her beliefs. And face the consequences, if necessary.

Oh how he wished he could curse those rocks.

“Mourn me if you must,” Eclipse continued. “But please, Vivi. Please remember what we had. No matter how brief it was. You made me so incredibly happy…”

Dragons did not die of old age. Their ‘brief time’ had been years and years. Maybe even a decade. He had stopped counting at some point, it seemed so… useless. What did that number matter? But now it mattered. Because he wanted more. Needed more. He shook his head violently, refusing the inevitable. “N-No, I-I can fix this, I-I can—“

Her claw silenced him as she laid it across his muzzle. “I love you, Velvet.”

A fresh batch of hot tears accompanied his strangled sobs. The light in her eyes dimmed. “I love you too, Eclipse.” She lowered her claw to the ground. He had hoped for many more years. They deserved many more years. After everything they had been through, after everything she had faced, for the good of the Dragonlands, for the good of her kind, for everyone. Did she not deserve some recognition? Did she not deserve to have a break? To retire in peace?

As that last spark in her eyes faded, he made his vow. “On every sunset, after darkest night, a new dawn follows. This is my promise to you, love. We will see each other again. You will get what is owed.”

Gone.

She was gone.

Her body was still warm. But his love had perished. It sickened him to think how dragonkind would call this an epic battle, how they might tell exaggerated stories about this fight centuries from now. Or worse still — how they might forget this moment ever happened at all.

She was gone.

Gone.

As the realization slowly sank in, he broke down. For all the dragon code and traditions, he cared little at this moment. He showed as much weakness as he wanted. He wailed for his broken heart, ripped to pieces by tragedy. Minutes passed. His throat hoarse and his voice merely a croak, he regained a sliver of composure. And still his tears ran unimpeded. But he knew they were there. He had been the only one bound by magic. They merely watched.

And they still did.

Some had vanished. Probably walked away, bored. Others gawked at him and the beach and… them. Only briefly did Velvet allow his gaze to be drawn over, a few dozen feet down the beach, where Flare lay. She had taken the brunt of the hits and flame breaths in an attempt to shield her sister. Parts of her body were barely recognizable as those of a dragon anymore. Her alabaster white scales, burnt black from otherworldly fire.

He puked. His stomach was not just upset, it was… was there even a word for that?

And in an instant, his anger flared. His head snapped up and he glared at them. Colorful scales, but motionless. Empty, mindless eyes. “And what do you lot gawk at?!” he yelled at the top of his lungs. “You ungrateful imbeciles! She died for you! They both did! And you useless bottom feeders did not raise a single claw to aid them while they defended your despicable, cowardly hides!” He could feel the buildup of magic. It was a fundamental principle of the arcane: Never cast spells under extreme emotional disturbances. The magic had a really good chance to go haywire and there was no telling what it would do then.

But he did not care.

Let it rip them to pieces, or me, or everything, what does it matter?!

“None of you spineless lizards deserved either of them!” he spat.

There was only so much provocation they were willing to take. One insult too far and one of the teenagers decided he had enough. He was three times his size and probably more than capable of tearing him to shreds. But that was the nature of the Dragonlands. Everything that lived and thrived here was a monster to some degree and it was a daily roulette to see who was the bigger one, the stronger one, the quicker one.

Velvet unleashed whatever magic he had as the dragon charged him. He saw red scales come closer quickly over the blinding glow of his magical aura, but then… nothing. It took Velvet a moment to realize that his magic had manifested not in any combat spell, but in a teleportation spell. He sighed in disappointment, only to then realize where he was.

He stood at the ledge of their cave, just outside.

And he could hear them. Inside.

Despite knowing better, he stepped into what had been his home for several years. Multiple young dragons were already busy looting. He remembered the thinned-out line of observers at the beach. Maybe they had not gotten bored as much as they saw an opportunity. These vermin rummaged through their belongings. Eclipse’s hoard was already gone for the most part. They had almost cleared out the entire cave. Within minutes of her death.

Maybe they started looting even before that. Maybe the first greedy vultures already snuck in here as the battle was still ongoing.

He braced himself, dug his hooves into the ground and charged his horn. He would rip them apart, limb to limb. But no matter how much he fumed with rage, Velvet Dusk was not a warrior. He was angry, yes. Angry beyond words. He would have loved to do nothing else than pummel these imbeciles into the ground and teach them a lesson in respect.

But what purpose would that serve? What good would that do, him or anyone else? There was nothing to win here. He could beat each and every dragon in the Dragonlands into submission and it would not change a thing. These creatures were irredeemable.

He let the magic dissipate harmlessly. They were too busy looting, they had not even taken notice of his arrival yet and there was no point in making them aware of his presence now. He did not have any personal belongings he cared much about. Eclipse had taught him early on not to care much about material possessions, as they switched owners frequently because everyone just stole from everyone else. And that was fine as long as one got away with it. What belonged to whom was a question of who was strong enough to take it — and keep it. It was the dragon's way of life.

He stared at them for a while. Seconds that felt like minutes that felt like hours. Eventually, he remembered his oath. He had given his love a final vow. The Dragonlands were not a place for a scholar like him. Not without the protection and guidance of some… locals.

His homeland, on the other hoof — he had not been there for many years. But the vast knowledge unicorns had accumulated over the centuries and millennia, the several huge libraries full of secrets and spells… surely there was something useful there. Anything he could make use of for his newly set goal.

And what would be the best way to bring her back?

She was dozens of times heavier than him. He could not carry her corpse around willy-nilly. And neither did he have any desire to do so. The image of her bloodied body on the beach had burned itself into his memory and served as quite enough of a grisly reminder of this day. A reminder he would not manage to get rid of for the rest of his life, no doubt.

It was possible to bring back the dead. He knew that. Necromancers were feared spellweavers back home. But their way of doing so was flawed. Their creations imperfect. Mindless husks that shuffled around, groaning and drooling. He needed to ensure nothing short of perfection. He needed to restore her body in full, without damage and wounds. He needed to restore her soul and mind. A full, complete resurrection. But how?

It was possible. Without knowing for sure, he could tell. Magic was limitless if one was willing to bend a few rules. Or break them, if required. And at this point — why should he care about any rules anymore? He did not care about his standing with his scholarly colleagues anymore. He did not care about the exchange of knowledge. Or about the balance of this world. Or about who he would have to blackmail or pressure into compliance.

There was only one goal remaining. To bring her back. By all means necessary. Because she deserved it.

To do that, he needed time. More years than his life currently offered, probably. But that could be fixed as well, surely. Yes, those old libraries back home would serve nicely. A good point to start. He charged his horn with another teleportation spell. He would need to retrieve a blood sample from his love. Maybe he could preserve it somehow. It would probably come in useful later.

And after that, he would make his way back home…

Changeling hives were such dreary places. The monotonous gray everywhere was just downright depressing. One would assume the ever-changing layout would keep things fresh and interesting, but a keen eye could notice patterns. Patterns that were unique to each and every hive and once figured out, they became predictable. Coupled with his invisibility spell and he simply strolled around the hive at his leisure.

The only thing he really needed to look out for was to not accidentally bump into a drone or make too much noise. Hives were busy places after all. Maybe that was the reason why they were not bothered by their dreadful interior design. Too busy to look at all the jagged spikes and organic-looking architecture.

Wildfire made his way deeper and deeper, level by level. He cared little for exploration and would have straight-up teleported, had he known where he would need to teleport to. As it were, he was focused on navigating around busier parts of the hive, to which the hatchery and the barracks seemed to count. Or what he assumed were those rooms. There was no signposting, of course.

Eventually though, he tracked his target down. As expected, she lounged on a throne in the deepest reaches of the hive. The throne itself looked impressive. It could have been intimidating, even. To anypony other than him. Once one faced down an enraged, adult, charging dragon, a spiky throne with a changeling queen on top was somehow less worrisome.

He looked around and took note of several holes in the walls. Probably the point where her reinforcement would come from, or where her guard was already lying in wait. He sighed silently, stepped in front of her throne after making a full round inspecting every nook and cranny — just to be sure. And with a final sliver of concentration, he changed his spell.

It was a bother, really. The one thing he had never managed to find a good solution for. Sure, the Zebrican way of tattooing spell effects onto skin to keep them active was a nice way of circumnavigating the issue somewhat, but at this point his actual skin had barely any space left and truth be told, he was not an avid fan of needles or the pain they inflicted.

A unicorn's horn however could always ever keep a single spell active. So he dropped his invisibility and instead charged a physical sphere, a domed shield spell that encapsulated Queen Chrysalis, himself and her throne. The hemisphere had barely half the radius the circular throne chamber had, leaving plenty of space for all her royal guards to immediately pour out of their hidey-holes like scared up ants.

“Hail, Queen Chrysalis,” he greeted in a respectful manner and even offered a little bow. “I wish to present a proposal.”

The queen herself did not give any indication if she was startled or not. If so, she did not show. Her guards filled the room like a tidal wave, but were incapable of penetrating the shield spell and therefore gnawed and hammered against it without any visible effect. She took note of that and then turned her attention to the feisty intruder.

“I do not care about your filthy pony rituals, unicorn!” she spat as she slowly, menacingly rose from her throne.

Wildfire furrowed his brow. It took him a few seconds to understand where things had gone wrong. “Ah. I see. No, this is not that kind of proposal, I assure you.”

She bared her impressively sized fangs in a wicked smile. “Oh how reassuring indeed. Now, my little morsel, you seem to have misunderstood something. You may think yourself safe with your magic, but I am not locked in here with you, you are locked in here with me!”

As she advanced on him like a cat on the prowl, he furrowed his brow yet again. “Those two things are not mutually exclusive, you know? That said, if you prefer for your guards to make an example, I can arrange that.” Without hesitation, Wildfire dropped the shield spell, only to immediately cast a light spell. The bright burst in these dank, dark caverns blinded all of them immediately.

“Guards! Fetch him!” Queen Chrysalis yelled as she recoiled from the blinding light.

Wildfire acted quickly. He shot several of the drones with stun rays before reinstating the shield spell. A few seconds passed and the changelings recovered, with half a dozen of them lying on the ground and their limbs twitching uncontrollably.

Chrysalis took note of this development with a hiss, a glare and another hiss. “Very lively expression, very nuanced,” Dawn muttered before he addressed her louder. “Does that suffice as an example? I can repeat this simple routine until they are all in very much the same useless state, of course. That said, I hate to repeat myself and I do not appreciate impoliteness. Can we talk now?”

She had half a mind to lunge for him. He could read it in her body language. How tense she was, how she kept her legs slightly bent, ready to jump, how her wings buzzed occasionally. But she glanced at her incapacitated drones again and made a wise decision. “Speak then, pony.”

It was amusing to Wildfire how she wielded that word like an insult. “Terrific!” He collected his thoughts for a moment. “There is a changeling hive in the Everfree Forest. I know you seek it. I also happen to know that they managed to evade detection so far. Your infiltration attempts, your scouting missions, all failed.” She bared her fangs again. Listing her failures was maybe not the most diplomatic decision. But he was a little rusty when it came to actual negotiations. “I can help you take it over,” he therefore cut straight to the case.

And for once, Queen Chrysalis seemed taken aback. She immediately suspected foul play, of course. “How?” she asked.

“I know where it is,” Wildfire casually replied. “I also know a thing or two about how they managed to escape your pursuit so far. So my proposal is this: I send in my strike team to clear a path straight to their queen. You take your drones to secure the hive and follow said path. You face her and prove that you’re worthy of your title and the fear you inspire. And thus, the hive is yours.”

“Why would I show mercy to your… your ‘strike team’?” she snarled in amusement, followed by half a chuckle over the ridiculous proposal.

Wildfire shrugged with a glint in his eyes. “I don’t expect you to.”

That managed to shut her up. The changeling queen stared at him in bemusement. She clearly did not like being on the back hoof. She did not like not being in full control of any given situation. But she was cunning enough to recognize an opportunity when one presented itself. “You would sacrifice your own kind?”

“Without hesitation,” he answered.

Now it was the queen's turn to fall silent for a moment, to sort things and consider which questions actually required answers. “And what do you gain from this?”

A distraction. The answer was obvious. She probably suspected as much. That taken into account, there was even less reason to say it aloud. “That is none of your business.”

Her rough voice echoed through the cavern in a sharp laughter. “Sounds like a trap.”

Paranoia. He was well-acquainted with that. And maybe he should have expected as much from a changeling queen, of all things. The company he kept in recent months really made him soft, in head and heart alike. He almost believed others to be trusting. “If you must know: Your first goal after taking over the Everfree hive will be to conquer the budding pony village near the old castle ruins. Because it is an easy target full of weak ponies in decent numbers. You will need this quick and easy victory to demonstrate to your new drones that you are more capable than the old queen. You will also need their love to replenish and heal whatever damage and loss you took while securing the new hive. None of the other settlements around the forest offer such opportunities. Aid could arrive too fast. Your drones could be followed while they transport their captives. Too much risk of interference. And you know as much as I do that if your presence here in the forest would be discovered, they would send the Elements of Harmony against you. Again. I am certain you are eager for a rematch. Another one. But you are wily enough to see an easy snack when there is one. Your attack on that village will serve my purposes well enough.”

She clearly disliked the idea of serving anything or anyone other than herself. More so if she just provided a distraction for someone else's plan. That said, Wildfire was confident that he had her in his bag if he gave her one last nudge. “Now, do you want that hive or not? Because frankly, I do not have the patience for prolonged negotiations and I could just as easily goad the other queen into an attack or at least something these ponies would perceive as an attack.”

Queen Chrysalis. The Shadow of Canterlot. He had not been in Equestria when this fabled wedding took place. Nor had he been around for her several other encounters with the defenders of this nation. She had a track record of losing, because she was too ambitious and overconfident. Wildfire took that into account and was willing to bet on it. She would mess this up again, somehow. Either way, even if she did not — changelings did not stand to gain anything from outright killing ponies. Dead ponies were worthless. As such, this was the perfect solution. And her greed would undoubtedly—

“I do not like you, pony,” the queen spat in his direction.

But there was an undertone that made him smile long after his initial surprised burst of laughter died down. “Terrific!”