Always the one alone longs for mercy,
the Maker’s mildness, though, troubled in mind,
across the oceans he has long been forced
to stir with his hands the frigid sea,
and walk in exile’s paths. Fate cannot be undone!
- The Wanderer, an old Anglo-Saxon Poem
Her hooves cracked the earth as they touched down, leaving deep imprints as her wings folded away within her carapace. Fangs flashed as she turned, looking back from under the shade of the trees, towards the distant, almost invisible peak of the mountain. Of the Hive.
How dare they?! Had she not given them everything!? Had she not spent so long?! So many lifetimes, seeing to their needs! Everything she had done, everything she had planned! All of it, was for them!
Perhaps, yes, it might have been for her as well, but only to aid THEM! And now they turn on her so fast?! How could they?! Was she not their Queen?! Imagining the sheer lack of respect and gratitude only drove her further into a rage, until with a scream she rounded on the trees about her, emerald magic lashing out, ripping up roots, shaking the earth and shattering trunks to splinters.
Only when she was surrounded by nothing but smoking, charred remnants of life did her fury come to a stop, withers heaving as she panted, green eyes blazing as she looked around at it all. So much! So much time and energy and love, wasted! Brought down by that sow Starlight Glimmer and her precious Friendship! Bah! What a foul disease, to take all that she cared for in this world and rip it from her chest.
She felt something, then, a tightness in her throat, and a sting in her eye, and she straightened up, blinking rapidly as she thought of those many years, of watching her drones, of feeding them, of giving them everything . . . and then that traitor, Thorax, and Starlight Glimmer came, and it was gone, in the blink of an eye.
With a snarl she turned away from her old home, back straight and head up. She would have her revenge! She had told Starlight so, and she was not one to break such a promise!
Her hooves plodded along, she knew not how far, through the trees, their leafy shade casting heavy shadows over her, turning her to a silhouette in the day, and a wraith by night. While she walked, she ranted internally, raving to herself of the injustive of it all, and how she would make them pay. She lost track of the days, as one bled into another, and her rage bled into exhaustion.
Not for the first time, she reached out through the Hivemind, the internal place where all of the Drones could keep in contact with each other and with her, in order to communicate and coordinate. She reached out, demanding a response and, while she felt small, tenuous tugs here and there, nothing else replied. No voice answered.
It was quiet. Too quiet. Perhaps . . . Perhaps it had been a ploy? Perhaps they had simply played that traitor Thorax and the fool, Starlight Glimmer, and even now her Hive plotted to restore her throne and overthrow the ponies.
Her mind drifted down these lines, thoughts of how awe inspiring her return would be, and how terrible her vengeance upon Starlight Glimmer would be, as well. She dreamed of greatness, and power. She dreamed of revenge and conquest. And, most of all, as her hooves continued to plod along, carrying her farther and farther from the Hive she had known since she was but a grub . . . she dreamed of returning.
Of going home.
She had walked until the trees had turned to meadow, and then to trees again, until her hooves ached, and her mind swam with thoughts and voices, though be they real or imagined, she could not tell. Finally, she had staggered off into the brush and collapsed, and fell into dream. . . .
She wandered through the world, an Exile from joy, a silent thing, incapable of sharing her innermost thoughts of self with any other, and while she watched, the world moved on without her. It changed and shifted, grew and shrank, loved and hated, laughed and cried, all while she remained hidden, alone in the dark, watching without being a part.
And she heard their voices once more, so many voices, all a hush and shifting in her mind. There was the one who was so lazy, yet was there when his companions needed him. And the little grub . . . so inquisitive, what was her name? Ocellus, yes, that was it.
And Pharynx, ever so faithful to her, always loyal, Pharynx. . . .
And Thorax. Thorax. . . .
"Are you sorry?" The voice, familiar and hated, came from behind her, and yet she felt no anger, as she turned, looking at the Princess of Friendship, as the lavender alicorn walked up and sat calmly beside her.
Chrysalis frowned at her. Was she . . . sorry? For what? What had she to be . . . sorry for? Her dream carried her on the sea of time, and she saw them, her drones, Thorax among them, goaded on by his brothers, and below them, the great shield, a bright pink in color, that enclosed all of Canterlot. And with a shudder, she felt her own voice, commanding, uncompromising, driving, urging, and the swarm came down like a tidal wave, slamming into the shield with enough force to send cracks running through the magic. . . .
And she felt their bodies break, felt the pain and hurt that went through them at the impact. She gasped, feeling it running through her body, before a wave of something warm and comforting, yet so foreign and alien, and so unstoppably powerful, flooded over all of them and sent them reeling, flying back, spinning and howling and falling, falling, falling. . . .
She found herself once more looking on, as she felt that same strange, unfamilliar feeling, so foreign and powerful, but now it was coming from one of their own, who looked so different, so happy and so beautiful in the light of day, with this feeling, this emotion, this thing once thought only to be a means of survival, pouring out from him to all around.
It was love. Not to be eaten, to be stolen and hoarded, but to be shared and given, freely, and so they gave of it. They gave their all, and felt so much lighter, so much more free.
If only she could feel that way. . . . If only such warm, gentle light could find her in the dark, where she huddled all alone.
"Please . . . " She mumbled softly, tears forming in her eyes. "Please . . . I'll do anything . . . Don't . . . Leave me here." She said, voice but a whisper in the darkness of her mind, lost in the land of nightmare and dreams.
"It is your own choice to be here, Chrysalis. Nopony else's." A haunting voice sounded from somewhere in the distance, one she knew, yet could not place, a voice of gentle power and a pained knowledge, as subtle and strong as moonlight on a spider's web. "Only you can save yourself from this fate, Chrysalis. Only you can embrace the Change that has come to you."
She woke with a start, sitting up sharply, breathing heavily as she looked around, heart hammering in her chest, face wet with silent tears. She spun , coming up to her hooves, wings snapping open, and the world spun. She felt so weak, she nearly fell to the ground once more. She turned, looking at everything, all the shadows around her, all the sickness about her, trying to claw its way in, to drown her in love and kindness. No. NO! She would not bow! She would not surrender! She could not!
She turned, looking up through the canopy of the trees around her, seeing the moon high above in the air, and she snarled, magic ripping at the trees around her, sending leaves and vines and branches flying. "Luna! I will never surrender! Not to you nor anypony else! I will have my revenge!"
. . . . . .
She stood, trembling, eyes focuses on nothing as the rage and hate flowed through her body, sending shockwaves up and down her back, and out to the ends of her chitinous hooves. Her wings, standing up from her back, quivered, aching to take off, to take her away from this place. But where was this place? Where was she? As though waking from a dream, she glanced around, feeling a hollow, aching sensation within her.
She stood in a forest clearing, identical to dozens of others she vaguely recalled passing through, the last few . . . days? Weeks? She wasn't sure how much time had passed, now that she thought of it. What time was it, even. A brief glance up to the sky showed the sun near its zenith, but was it before or after noon? Still morning? Or pressing on towards eventide?
A whimper scurried fearfully through the air of the clearing, and she turned her eyes downwards once more, looking in confusion at the source of the sound. A pair of young ponies cowered on the ground at her hooves, an earth pony, and a pegasus, both stallions. One of the pegasus' wings was hanging limp. A broken wagon rested behind them, and she vaguely recalled something . . . that aching empty feeling inside her driving her down upon the wagon, when she sensed the love of the pair inside. The pegasus trying to get away, and she used her magic to snatch him out of the air, injuring his wing in the process.
Now the couple, their terror of her barely covering the thick, heady sensation of the love they shared for one another. She looked at them, pupils dilating as she took them in, took in their love, which they shared with one another so freely, so openly. She watched the fear in their eyes, sensing that, as much as they feared her, either one feared more what she would do to their partner, than to themselves.
She felt herself trembling, felt the rage bubble back up into her throat like acid, scorching her mouth with bile, to the point where she thought she might be sick, and her mind swam with warring thoughts. Was she sickened by their soft, weak love for each other? Of course! But . . . what if it was the fact that she . . . would never know that sort of love with another . . . .
NO!
With a snarl she stalked forward towards them, and they shied back, the earth pony holding the pegasus in his forelegs, as they bumped into the wagon, in their attempt to get away. "Please-" He started.
She cut him off with a roar of hatred and, more than anything, a bone deep, aching, gnawing hunger, and she pounced, silencing their screams before they even began.
She ate well, that day.
What was the point? Why keep pushing on like this? Towards a place unknown and undefined, sometime, somewhere in the future, where things would be right again. But why would it be right? How could it be right, ever again?
Her hooves were sore. How long had she been walking? Her wings ached. Had she flown somewhere? She could not recall, nor did it really matter. She was here, now . . . and where was here? Some forest, somewhere, far away from home.
Home.
Home?
What was home? She'd never . . . She had never thought about what 'home' meant to her. She'd never given the word any thought, at all, really, yet now here she was, thinking of it, more and more, with every slow, aching step she took. Home was . . . what was it the ponies said? 'Home is where the Heart is'. What a silly sentiment! And yet . . . She felt a pain in her chest, a dull, roving ache, as though a hole had been punched through her, without leaving a mark.
She took a breath, feeling it shake, as she stopped walking, eyes staring at the ground in front of her. "Home. . . . " She whipsered, and she felt them, memories drifting through her mind, voices echoing around the corner of recall, that humming, buzzing feeling of the Hivemind singing in her dreams. A feeling she had not known for . . . months? Moons? She knew not how long it had been.
"Stinger . . . " She said, softly, looking about, seeing the faces of her Changelings, her Children, staring at her from the trees around her. "Pharynx . . . Carapace . . . Th . . . T-Thorax . . ." She stood, so still that the air around her seemed to have died. She took another shaking breath, and her eyes closed.
Tears, warm and wet and so heretofore unknown, slid from behind her eyelids and down her cheeks. She thought of them, of their voices and their faces, their colorful eyes watching her, needing her.
She was not aware when her legs gave and she collapsed to the ground, the soil cool and wet under her exhausted body. They were gone, and she had thrown away her only chance to get them back. They were gone, and so was she.
There was no point in moving on. There was no purpose in life, for a Queen without a Hive.
She ranted and roared and fought. She wept in secret, and spoke to the memories of those she had known. She fought with others, both against and alongside, feeling for a moment, looking upon the odd assortment, of herself, a strange pegasus filly and a centaur, the tingle of return, the warmth of home.
The sense of love.
But feeling the dread of sentiment, the poison of Friendship, that most insidious and vile of pony magics, she had fought.
She had ranted, and roared, her rage knowing no bounds, all that kept her pressing forth, her anger. The fury of a Queen dethroned. A mother who's children had been stolen.
And she had won. She had tasted it, the Victory she had wanted. Starlight Glimmer crushed beneath her hoof! Celestia and Luna powerless in cages and their castle in ruins! Twilight and her friends on the run, alone in the cold! Alone as she had been!
She tasted that victory.
And it had tasted of ash in her mouth. It brought no solace, no comfort. It brought no warmth of hearth or the feeling of home she had lost before she knew what it was. It brought no voices back to her mind, the voices of her family, chattering and talking to each other while she listened. The voices that lulled her to sleep at night and woke her in the morning.
It brought nothing, not even simple satisfaction.
And then, there came the gathering, and she saw her Hive again, saw them arrayed against her, with the ponies and other creatures by their sides. She saw them all, and felt the dull, hollow ache as she knew then that it would never be her family again.
And she saw their magic, that wretched power of Friendship, bear down upon her. Upon them. She had looked at the filly and the centaur, weak and powerless, at the mercy of Grogar's bell. She had looked at the fear on their faces, and she felt it, again. A sense of family. A sense of duty, as a mother to her young.
She had felt her anger boil over as she leaped forward to confront this all powerful magic with her own.
And then she had felt nothing.
But that wasn't quite right. She had felt . . . adrift. Cold. Like she was floating in the water of a cool stream, but all around was darkness. Then slowly, that darkness had taken shape, as she saw a sea of stars reflected in the surface of a lake, rather than a stream.
She looked around, turning onto her belly as she saw the sea of stars, and saw ahead a small island in the water, it's grass a deep blue green, a few trees of silvery leaves overhead.
She swam to it, climbing up on shore and found that she didn't feel tired like she should. She looked around at her surroundings, taking them in, before becoming aware of a presence behind her. Once she knew, though only distantly. A sense of power, greater than any she'd felt before, as though this being was God here, and no other may hold that title.
She turned, prepared to face what cosmic horrors may come . . . and instead saw a familiar, midnight blue mare standing across from her, horn glowing faintly as her wings shuffled on her back.
"Luna." Chrysalis said, softly. She should feel angry. Should feel hate for this mare, who with her allies had stolen everything from her.
But she didn't. "I'm dreaming." She said, nodding.
Luna nodded as well. "You are. The power of Friendship placed you all into Stone Sleep."
Chrysalis took a breath. Stone Sleep, the same spell it had used on Discord so long ago. "All? The others. . . ?"
"Do you care?" The mare of the moon asked, softly.
Chrysalis stood for a long moment, thinking. Thinking as though that wasn't what she had spent so long doing anyway. She thought of that day, when Starlight Glimmer and Thorax had defeated her and she still felt a small tickle of flame, a hint of anger, dulled as it was by her current state.
But she thought of it, thought of Thorax, and Pharynx, and Stinger and Ocellus . . . Thought of her Hive. She felt a dull throbbing ache, somewhere between her chest and her stomach, but it lacked the depth it had before. She looked at those memories, saw them, the loss of her Hive and her Home.
And then she thought of a filly, devious and cruel, yet playful. Her blue curls and little wings adorable enough to win over any heart. She thought of a centaur, smarter than he looked, strong and capable as he was cunning and powerful.
She took a deep breath of the air, feeling it flowing cool and soft around her as she looked out to the water, seeing a pair of figures swimming their way towards the island from different points. One small, a yellow ribbon in her touseled mane. The other larger, bulkier, the way he preferred to be, as he would be in a dream.
She looked around and did not see the Mistress of the Dreamrealms, but that did not worry her. She turned and walked down to the beach, to meet her new family, a small smile on her face.
Stone Sleep would not last forever. One day they would wake up, and until then, they had each other, here in this dream, at least.
And they must be ready for when they woke. They would have business to take care of.
