Blue Fang, Reignited

“I’m telling you, Cornalis! That bug’s up to no good!”

Hivehunter huffed, lifting an angered hoof which struck one of the equine shaped targets, forcing it to the floor, the sound of paper ripping resounding as it crashed into the rocky outcast beneath. The target itself was lazily painted gray, with little blue rocks paste equally along the mouth, the same effort in them as the color. The dummy was beaten to little recognition, with more rips and tears along it than the new wound had created. Puffs of fluffy cotton bled from the dummy, which the changeling seemed more than pleased with.

Beside the angered changeling were four other bugs, watching with both mild amusement and mild fear. The air in the room was heavy, with no one able to really break through the weight of the atmosphere. To the four comrades, their friend’s horrible, evil wrath seemed more like a coping mechanism rather than actual venting. Truth be told, that fear they had was more directed at the blood veins their friend might burst.

The one Hive had called out, Cornalis, tilted his head. Though a close friend, the bug felt, no, knew he’d have to choose his words right. Probably wasn’t a good idea to piss off the Queen’s son. With a heavy breath, he spoke as carefully as his lavender accented chitin. “Uh… L-Leytenant, don’t you think you’re overreacting?” he asked, flinching slightly, expecting Hive to punch him. Or worse. But he kept talking. “I mean, they’re sixteen now, it’s normal for’em to start making lovey eyes or whatever.”

“Y-Yeah,” another one, Wirax, spoke bravely, though his bones were rattling like beans in a maraca. His copper chitin gleamed against the green light of the lantern pod plants that were sprouting from the walls. He shifted to a more comfortable position on the rock he was sat on, azure eyes illuminating the angered bug. “I mean, you and Snapdragon have been together since you were both what? Fifteen?”

Hivehunter rolled his eyes, turning to face his friends, eye twitching. The group flinched again, Wirax nearly taking a tumble off his rock. Hive didn’t notice, simply shaking his head, stumbling over his words. “Wha-huh-tha-that has little to do with this! I at least know Snap!” he whisper-shouted, stomping a hoof angrily. Right. Royal tantrum. Son of the Queen, everybug!

“Sir, this is still a flawed argument,” Cornalis argued, now a little braver—and annoyed at this teenage temper-tantrum—stepping up to meet Hive. “I mean, haven’t they known each other since they were hatchlings?”

Hive shot a glare at the bug, clearly not happy with his admittedly solid argument. How does one respond to facts and logic? “Listen, the point is, I don’t like him.” He rolled his eyes, lifting up the dummy. “How would you like it if some stranger randomly started dating someone you barely know?”

Ah yes, dodging the argument all together. Truly a royal indeed.

Cornalis flinched a bit, a pang of hurt stabbing through his shell. “Uh… I wouldn’t know…” he spoke softly, stepping back a few paces. “I don’t have any siblings, sir…” he admitted, his face relaxing into a frown. He plopped down on the cold floor, lazily kicking a rock into a nearby corner, his gaze shifting into the floor.

Hive halted, his anger subsiding as he watched someone he considered a brother sink into the earth. He sighed, the urge to punch himself growing large. This was his friend after all, they all were. And yet, he couldn’t think of his younger sister like this. He took a breath, turning to his friends. “Fine, you win. But I think you’ll all agree with me when I say that she shouldn’t be dating a Regular.”

The group sat silently, looking up at their friend, before the gaze drifted from Hivehunter slowly towards one of their own, who sat quietly beside them, their dark blue chitin quietly shining. Hivehunter turned, uncomfortable by the silence, only to see their friend looking down, a gray cloud now strung over their head.

“Oh shit… uh… sorry Iris…” he apologized. “Nothing against you, you’re an Elite now.”

Iris looked up, feigning a smile. “It’s fine, Leytenant, no harm done…”

In reality, Hive had basically brought down a castle spire onto Iris, whose family was originally considered Regulars, but thanks to a few open spots, were allowed to the top. Still, the changeling worked hard to prove himself worthy of his new Elite status, as the wall of scars that danced across his body showed.

The princebug sighed, reaching over to rub Iris’ shoulder. With an admittedly compassionate smile, he tried his best to apologize. “Alright, listen… I’m sorry, alright? I’m just mad…” he sat down.

Wirax stood up, his horn, which split into two points, casting a small shadow over the two, his silver eyes casting a hint of doubt at how genuine Hive was being… and yet understanding the protectiveness over his younger sister. “Leytenant, listen,” he spoke. “I know it’s a bit… weird. But relax. It’s normal for kids to fall for each other, it ain’t nothing personal.”

“Still! I feel like this can only end badly…” Hive replied as he stood up, stretching. “You know how Regulars can be… For all the good they do, they act like dogs!”

Again, Iris flinched slightly.

“Might your opinion of Regies be coming from stereotypes and classist tendencies instead of actual encounters,” the last of the group, Chronicle, finally interjected, his posh accent contrasting with the others as he daintily bounced into the exchange. “Besides sir, your best friends are Regulars, aren’t they?” he asked, straightening his frill.

“Who? Brokenwing and Night? Yeah, but they’re actually cool. Blue is a… well, a brat!” Hive snapped. “Besides, what has Blue done to deserve to date my sister? He has no life accomplishments.”

“Well, he’s certainly humble,” Wirax mumbled.

“Not to mention he’s Broken’s little brother,” Cornalis followed up. “I mean, he’s gotta have some of that politeness etched into his brain.”

“He’s got a mouth, that’s for sure,” Hive rebutted, his nostrils flaring as his face bore a look of anger.

The conversion began to slowly die down into silence, giving way for two more changelings to run over. One had a pair of red wings with a black carapace. The other was a more common patterned changeling, gray chitin and blue shell.

“Yetzal, Helix! What’s happening?” Wirax greeted, smiling at the two.

The red-winged changeling, Yetzal, smirked back. The group was slightly prepared for the eager bug to say something either completely insane, a lie, bad idea… or rarely, an actual piece of interesting news. He bounced over, the group preparing for the worst. “Listen, y’alls know how them arena fights is coming up this weekend?”

“Yes, what of it?” Chronicle joined, his proper demeanor dropping in favor of whatever Yetzal had to say.

“Well, this month they’s letting us Elites join in the fights!” Yetzal cheered, clearly excited.

At first, they hadn’t believed him. Elites were considered too valuable to let fight in the arena, after all, they were the smartest and strongest of the Hive. But an affirming nod from Helix turned them into believers real fast.

“Ooh! I get to legally kick someone’s ass?!” Wirax asked, hopping off his rock, excited to jump into the pit.

“Yeah!” Yetzal nodded. He then turned to the quiet bug in the corner. “Hey Scar, you’s wanna join? You’s a good fighter, ya’know that!”

Iris looked up, ears perking as his nickname was called. “Oh uh… I could try. But I—”

“Oh good! You should join too, Hive!” Yetzal chirped, his teasing smirk peering at the bug.

Hive rolled his eyes. “I don’t need to jump into the arena. We get the best training around.”

“I think ya missed the part of ‘legally kicking someone’s ass,’” Yetzal interjected, nudging Hive a bit.

Hive looked back at the torn up dummy, gazing at it haphazardly. The longer he stared at it, the wider his smirk grew. “Hm… alright. I’ll join.”

“Sweet! Follow me, I’ll take y’all to the registration!” Yetzal turned, leading the group towards the arena.

~~~

Blue laid on his stomach, shifting to get a bit more comfortable. In his grasp, a bolt-thrower, the Eciton. He was just one in a small line of changelings recruits laying on a firing line. They were set up in a long corridor, with their targets at the end of the large room.

He clutched the weapon, aiming at a target with a crudely drawn pony on it. He took a breath, squeezing down on the trigger. There was a loud pop and the longthrower kicked into his shoulder. He winced as he felt it dig into his leg, his hoof flinching as he brushed the trigger again. As he shot, the rest of the bolt-throwers sang out, sounds of rock shattering echoing back at them.

“Remember! Count your shots!” Ampth called out. “You only get ten shots per clip! If you get caught with an empty weapon, it’s on you!”

Blue rolled his eyes, before peering down the sights. Three more rapid fire offs. “Six left…” he muttered, continuing to fire. His ears twitched as he heard the sound of an empty bolt-thrower click. Someone fired their longthrower on empty. He didn’t turn to watch, but he heard Ampth’s angry hoofsteps. Blue sighed, a hint of pity as his comrade was viciously torn to shreds by Ampth’s voice.

Blue winced, and along with the other trainees, waited for Ampth to finish his shouting fit. After which, the Serzhant turned to face the rest of the trainees. “What are you green bloods waiting for?! Keep firing!”

The changelings went back to firing their weapons.

Blue was now down to the last shot, which he squeezed off, watching as the paper jumped and buckled. He watched as the slide locked back, as he reached into his bag, pulling out the strip of metal that held the bolts. Aligning the clip with the chamber, be pressed down, loading the bolts down. Then, he released the slide, watching as the strip of metal was launched off, landing beside him with a soft jangle. He then continued firing.

Ampth leaned back, watching the trainees fire into the targets. As he observed, waiting for another empty click, his ears twitched as he heard the sound of hoofsteps. Half-annoyed, lowered onto his hooves, turning to see a few changelings trotting down towards them. Two of them were in dark gray uniforms, Wasps. The other was a random Elite. Ampth didn’t visualize it, his tongue ran with venom, a soft snarled lowly.

They stepped over to Ampth, eyes casting doubt upon him. He met their gaze, immediately ordering the trainees to stop firing so he could hear. They stood, their eyes wandering over at the Elites.

“Serzhant Ampth?” the Elite asked, staring at Ampth judgingly.

“That’s me.” Ampth stood firm. “How can I be of service?”

The Elite cleared his throat, unrolling a scroll. “Kadet Blue Fang, I.D. number three-fifty-seven-forty-four, his majesty, Prince Hivehunter, challenges your hoof to combat within the colosseum. You are to appear for your trial by combat tomorrow.” He then rolled the scroll up, before turning to Ampth, saluting. “As you were, Serzhant,” he spoke, before walking off, his escorts beside him.

Ampth stared for a bit, before turning to face the bugs who were still prone on the firing line. With a veil of silence, the soldiers began shooting again. Underneath the fire, Blue ducked his head down, praying not to be seen.

~~~

Broken sighed, looking at Blue, who kind of just stared at the floor. Though his younger brother getting into a life or death fight with the literal Prince of the Hive wasn’t on his yearly bucket list, it was here to stay. With a sigh, he pinched his mind for a brief second, before breathing through his teeth.

“Alright… no panic,” he said, visibly twitching. “The good thing is you get to choose the weapon, since you’re the one being challenged.”

Blue nodded, a hint of fear catching in his throat. “Yeah? But I’ve never really fought… I mean, I guess me and Hive had that tussle, but uh…” he shrugged. “Never really had an actual fight.”

“Well, you’re gonna learn.”

The two had gathered in one of the Hive’s training areas, where lay sparring mats and melee weapons. Broken walked over to a wall, where sat some melee. He reached over, grabbing two sets of dueling swords. They had very thin blades with a wide guard.

“This will be your weapon,” Broken stated, handing one to Blue.

The sword wasn’t too heavy. Comfortable in fact.

Broken turned. “This is a rapier. Lighter than a saber, good for dueling,” he spoke, raising up on his hind legs. He twirled the dull blade, staring his brother down.

Blue stepped closer, taking the rapier. Gently lifting it. It was gentle, almost elegant. Light with a flick of the hoof motion settling in. Looking up at his brother, Blue stepped back.

Broken nodded, raising up on his hind legs. “I’m sure you know how to balance yourself, no?” the eldest asked, expertly balancing himself.

“Yeah, of course!” Blue bit back, raising to mimic his brother’s stance, albeit with more wobble than wonder. His legs shook as he stood, but he steeled himself, raising the blade. “I ain’t that stupid!”

“Blue, you picked a fight with a fucking royal,” Broken stated flatly, his back straightening as he stood.

Blue huffed, his posture limp. He sucked in through his teeth, his hooves tightening. He hadn’t heard his brother curse often, and when he did, it wasn’t targeted at him, he felt ever so slightly hurt. Actually, he felt… angered. His face scrunched, and he looked up, before suddenly pushing off the ground, attempting to rush down his brother. As he passed his older kin, he felt himself go airborne, hooves around him, before suddenly slamming backfirst into the ground, air rushing out of his lungs as his eyes blurred. He groaned, rolling over onto his side, hooves attempting to hold his back.

“That’s your first lesson, don’t get all pissy.” Broken reprimanded, stepping over his brother. “And second lesson? Don’t get in grappling range of your opponent.”

“Got it…” Blue weakly replied, rolling onto his stomach, pushing himself up. “And Broken?”

“Hm?”

“Kiss my nonexistent ass…”

~~~

Some time had passed, and it showed. Blue was dressed in bandages and bruises from each whip, thwack, and pop that he received from Broken’s sword. His movement was disjointed, each step causing him a stinging burn and a flinch. His eyes darted up at the click of his brother’s hooves, and he watched his brother carefully, waiting for his older kin to make a move. Broken’s brow raised, watching as his brother lowered his guard. A feint, maybe? Broken wasn’t sure, but he knew his brother was gonna try something stupidly genius. Or just stupid, both were equally on the table.

Blue then thrusted the blade forward, parried by a flick from Broken. Blue parried the parry, before then shifting his weight into his shoulder, launching himself at his brother. Broken hadn’t expected this, and met Blue’s force head on, flailing to the ground beneath Blue. The younger then stood, attempting to pin his elder. What he had forgotten was that the older bug was still stronger.

Now, to Blue’s credit, Broken considered it a good idea. Had Blue maybe gone for his sword instead of the pin, he could’ve won this duel. But, along with that, he also exposed his belly. Broken lifted his rear legs, kicking hard, sending Blue off and onto the floor. Blue wheezed as he hit the floor, gagging as he felt the force in his stomach.

Broken stood, stretching slightly. “Damn Blue, you gotta stop throwing yourself at bugs, it ain’t working,” he teased.

The only reply he got has an anguished whine as Blue curled in on himself.

Broken”s gaze softened, and he stepped over. “Hey Blue…?” he started, planting a hoof softly in front of the younger. “You okay…?” he bade, gently nudging his younger sibling. Blue merely groaned again, clutching his stomach before rolling onto his back.

Ah damnit, Broken sighed, reaching down to help the younger to his hooves. I really hurt him this time. He raised up on his hinds, letting Blue lean on him for support. He noticed that Blue was surprisingly light; though that was probably a result of the adrenaline rather than Blue’s actual weight. He looked over, noticing a sparkling reflect in his eyes; water. Broken flinched, before helping his brother out of the door.

Broken carried Blue outside, into the halls. He looked around, noticing a few changelings staring at them. He ignored them, aiding Blue towards one of the Hive hospitals.

~~~

“Well sir, he’s alright.”

Brokenwing’s gaze turned from the white marble walls of the clinic. He hadn’t thought much of it, but seeing the clinic’s burning white walls as opposed to the usual gray and black rock almost… hurt. Their lanterns, more fancy oil lamps they’d probably stolen, produced an orange warmth Broken hadn’t felt in his life. He never noticed how cold the Hive was, his bones now rattling as he distanced himself from the lamps. The room they were in was at the mouth of the cave, with other beds lined up parallel and adjacent to theirs. In the corner, there were rudimentary sinks, connected to what few outside ponds they had. He now looked at the young medic. Stinger was appointed to help with less serious injuries, in this case Blue’s twisted stomach. The older bug sighed, lifting himself up onto the bed his sibling was sat on. “So… What’s up?”

“Well sir, you kicked him in the damn stomach,” Stinger jabbed. “All due respect, sir.”

“It’s alright Stinger…”

Stinger walked over to a cabinet, pulling it open. His lime-green eyes reflected against a pinkish glow that radiated from the cabinet. The two looked over, watching as Stinger pulled a vile of pink liquid from the container, trotting over carefully. Stepping past Broken, the younger medic bug twisted the cap off, handing it to Blue. “Don’t come knocking for more, these are patient rations.”

Blue nodded, sipping the juice from the vile. His cheeks flushed as he drank down the extract, turning a fuzzy green as he blushed. It was sweet, like honey or sugarcane, but somehow more tasty. He couldn’t place the taste, but it practically melted his tongue, causing him to shudder slightly. He lowered the empty vile, which Stinger took, gently placing it in the sink.

“Just rest for a bit, you should be better by tomorrow,” Stinger explained. “I’ll have another ration for you tomorrow.”

Blue nodded, standing weakly. “T-Thanks Stinger…”

The medic nodded, walking the two to the exit. As they left, Stinger gripped Broken’s shoulder with surprising strength. “Sir, next time, try not to put another bug in the infirmary,” he ordered coldly. Broken nodded, and though he didn’t show it, felt a slight hint of fear as the words left his comrade’s mouth.

~~~

The gentle sound of hooves against ground echoed through the halls, a signal to the many low-class changelings to clear the walkway and bow. Stepping past her subjects, Chrysalis feigned a smile at them, watching as they lowered their heads to her. Beside her, two of her personal guards marched in step, silent as the stones that built their walls. Chrysalis cocked her head, spotting some of the younger changelings staring in awe at her. Such a deserved audience, she thought, pride running as hot as her blood.

She rounded a corner, finding the door she needed. Opening the door, she stepped in, finding two of her favorite changelings. Broken was reading a book, whilst Blue was lain on his bed, playing with a few wooden soldiers. The regal bug stepped into the den, smiling as the two looked over.

“Mother Chrysalis? What brings you to our den?” Broken asked, lowering his book as he turned to meet her.

“Well, when I heard that my son wanted to challenge your brother, I couldn’t help but root for the lower class,” she answered, walking over to them, lowering herself to match Broken’s height. “And I just love an underdog story,” she poked, her voice sing-songing in sick glee.

Blue sat up, looking over at Chrysalis. “T-Thanks your majesty, but I really don’t deserve the fanfare at all.”

Chrysalis’ neck near snapped as she twisted her gaze to the younger. “Nonsense! All changelings should strive for glory, especially glory recognized by me.” She stood, walking daintily towards the injured. Where others would see predatory, Blue saw stars. The Queen, their Goddess, placing her faith in him! She lowered down, grinning ear to ear. “Besides…” she started, gently lifting him by the chin. “What would my daughter think of you if she saw you? Sure, watching her brother lose might dent something, but seeing her dearest friend claim victory in the arena? That would surely impress me,” she purred softly, venom lacing her sweet words.

Blue’s eyes practically gleamed, mouth hanging as his heart skipped a few beats. His mind bounced, balancing between Kydra, the glory, and the aftermath. He smiled cheerfully, struggling to respond.

Chrysalis straightened. “No matter!” she suddenly injected, releasing Blue as she stood. “I have brought my most expensive tea to celebrate your battle tomorrow.” She clicked her hooves, and one of her guards stepped in with two cups. One was wrapped in tape, which was promptly given to Blue. The other, non-taped cup, was brought to Brokenwing. Chrysalis chittered, head cocking as her mouth twisted into a smile as she looked over to Blue. “Sorry for the cup, little one. Unlike our weapons, cups aren’t exactly high priority.”

“It’s okay, your majesty,” he replied, lifting it to sip the tea, cheeks turning green as the sweet taste washed over his tongue. But there was a hint of something… bits of leaves, or maybe roots followed the liquid. He looked up at the Queen, who was smiling at him with kindness. “Your majesty, is it normal for tea to have… bits in it?”

Broken answered. “It’s normal, Bluey. The herbs sometimes leave little bits of themselves in the tea.” His voice was matter-of-factly, which made sense. A high ranking officer like him, he probably had tea hundreds of times.

“Oh, okay!” Blue smiled, reassured by his older brother. He lifted the cup, sipping the tea.

As the young bug drank, Chrysalis watched in almost clinical fascination. Her smile turned to that of glee as she watched the changeling down the tea, a proud smile gleaming against her.

Broken smiled, sipping his tea. He sighed, looking up at Chrysalis. “Thanks Mother,” he spoke kindly, snapping her attention back.

“Of course.” She held her head high, clearly enjoying the attention. “Now, Kaptian,” she addressed the elder brother. “I need you to oversee more shooting drills. Our army can’t sustain itself if it can’t hit its target.”

“Yes ma’am,” he obeyed, finishing his tea before standing. He walked over to Blue, sighing softly. “Rest up Blue. Tomorrow’s a big day.”

“Yes brother…” He replied in a mumble, straightening himself as he rolled onto the bed. He let out a soft cough, before rolling over.

Broken chuckled, trotting back to the regent. “Let’s go, mother.”

~~~

“Your majesty, I can’t stress that this is a completely idiotic idea!”

Chrysalis’ head cocked down, her gaze falling upon one of the scientists, the one who had boldly spoken out against her. The changeling, dressed in clinically cleaned white leathers stood before her, brow cocked in minor annoyance. Borax, his name was. Head scientist of the Research and Development team, known as the Pillbugs, he was a surprisingly built bug, his body bigger than most others. His horn was snapped, with it’s top half being replaced by a wooden prosthetic. His voice was as clinical as his attire, happiness nowhere near his known vocabulary.

They stood in one of the testing rooms, half of it divided by a reinforced glass wall. On their side, tables, chairs, and shelves were lined equally within the room, with typewriters, beakers, measurement tools, and other equipment laid along the tables.

Borax glared down the Queen, as if she’d committed treason against her own. He stomped over, a hiss catching in his throat. “Your majesty, I’d follow you to the gates of Tartarus, but by the Hivemother, what were you thinking?!”

Chrysalis chuckled, meeting him halfway. “What? You said the sample was stable, correct? Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“It is! But we haven’t tested it on bug DNA, let alone changeling DNA!” he snapped, his outfit flaring as his words flew. “We are bugs, my liege! This could be the death of our already strained species!” He sighed, halting himself and his tirade. He took a breath, stepping toward the end of the room. “I apologize, my Queen… But you saw what the sample did to the… other subjects…” he motioned to a large clump in the corner of the actual test chamber, shrouded in darkness, but they both knew. Borax smiled with a hint of glee, his ears perking as twisted thoughts played in his mind, staring at the mound of dead. “Ponies, griffons… all so fragile.”

“Keep it between your legs, Borax,” she reprimanded, stepping over.

“Apologizes.” He turned to her. “But my point stands, the modified cordyceps doesn’t play well with other creatures. What makes you think this changeling will be any different? Or safe?” His gaze unmoving, he spoke again, “You wiped out that forsaken fungus for good reason. You know aside from the Equestrian pesticides, ceps is the biggest killer of changeling hives! And that strand was our last sample. This fails, and it’s all for nothing. Or worse, that strand turns the kid into a walking corpse and kills us all.”

She looked over to the tray she’d walked in with, two mugs sat on it, one lined with tape. Her gaze softened, silently praying the sample hadn’t lost potency thanks to the tea. She shook her head, looking down at Borax. “Well Borax, I know Blue. He’s stupid, but he isn’t a quitter,” she spoke, eyes peering back over. “Besides, we’ll get a live test tomorrow in the arena.”

“I suppose you have a point… But what about Hivehunter?” he poked, still staring into the chamber. “He’s your son, no? Aren’t you afraid that the sample is effective, that Blue might kill him?”

Chrysalis thought for a bit. Her son, her true son. Her own flesh and blood. Truth be told, she cared for her young, and the prospect of one of them dying was something she hoped to never face. She’d seen thousands, maybe millions of her kind die in the past eons she’d been alive. And yet, this… the sight of her son in a coffin? It clawed at her mind, bouncing around annoyingly.

She halted, eyes twitching as the thought lingered. She sighed, attempting to repress her feelings, her ego ramming what little love she could have down her throat. She then turned, headed for the door. As she reached the door, she halted. “Well, he better not die,” she spoke coldly, turning to changeling. Her tone was flat, eyes tired. “Have Almexa bring today’s reports in. And please, dispose of those bodies. you’re going to stain my floors.”

Borax nodded. “Yes ma’am.”

With that, she closed the door.