My vision is hazy.
No, it’s not from the thing One called a distillery hiding somewhere in the middle of the massive apple orchard we’re passing through. It’s dark, likely very early morning of the second day since we fled Canterlot. The air is warm but fresh, and everything is deathly quiet aside from our stumbling steps.
*Thud!*
”Hey, hey!” I hear Ten’s weak voice, ”Boss, I’m not sure how to say it, but this guy can’t go on.”
At this point, who can?
“Can anyone carry-” I stop myself after I turn around and face the exhausted faces. I can see the love around them, or lack thereof, “No… we can’t.”
One and Ten are the only two who possibly could. Ten is already carrying Three, though, and One’s quick shake of her head kills that option immediately. She probably would do it if I insisted, but...
A CHANGELING OF HER CALIBER IS MAKING YOUR LEGS TREMBLE, WORM.
You know, I freely admit it this time.
“No, you can’t...” groans the changeling, conjuring a weak smile, “I know… you tried. I know my… situation. Whoever you are...”
He’s a warrior. Four-digit likely. Identification is an instinct I’m developing, I noticed. He’s a no one by the hive standards.
I don’t know what to say, so I just grip his hoof with mine.
“We haven’t been caught yet, and the Everfree forest can’t be too far, even for us. We can hole up there, and then send my infiltrators-”
He grips back. I can barely feel it.
“No. Once the invasion failed… I know I was gone. I served the hive, and I was found wanting. The fact that you got me… out of the prison… that you even tried… wasted your scarce resources… and then got us out under the guard onslaught...” his eyes tear up, “If you’re from the hive… I tried to protect… then it was worth it.”
He’s crazy. I barely did anything. Eight and One did all the heavy lifting, in Eight’s case literally.
“I just wanted to save myself, and I needed everyone I could get for that,” I admit, “That’s all.”
To my surprise, he simply chuckles.
“Tell that… to your... drone buddy...” he closes his eyes, “Speaking of which… you know what to do with me. I can’t… endanger your escape, and the little guy… doesn’t need that much. Plus… the guy carrying him won’t hold out much longer either.”
I raise my eyebrow, looking at One. She nods.
“Okay,” I breathe out, “One?”
She walks over, puts her horn to the warrior’s, and within a second he stops breathing. The miniscule transfer of love is depressing. She gestures at Ten to walk closer, and when he does she lets out a golden spark of energy, which drains into Three on his back.
I feel my mental link strengthen.
”Boss…?” Three opens his eyes, rolling over, and gradually standing up, ”Where are we?”
“Later, Three.”
”Sure, boss,” he sits back down, leaning against the nearest apple tree.
”We’re not done here,” One clears her throat, then spits a glob of green goo at the changeling corpse, ”We can’t allow anyone to know we were here.”
More spit covers the changeling who begins melting. Soon, One bites a chunk of his foreleg off and chews it accompanied by crunching making my stomach revolve.
Thankfully, I’m not the only one surprised, although I shouldn’t be at all. I saw high ranks eat drones far too many times. There is love pumping through our flesh and chitin to make it strong and resilient, love one can’t simply drain.
Well, not anymore for the poor changeling.
One is done quickly, and I can easily sense how helpful the meal was to her. I can also feel the overwhelming fear everywhere around. We are starving, and One is our most valuable member power-wise. Aside from Four and Three, they know they could be next. I’m happy nothing of that sort even crossed the mind of those two, I just wish I didn’t know for certain how intensely One thought about it.
On the other hole, if she wanted us dead, we would be. Eight still hasn’t returned from her hunt, and without her there’s no one even remotely able to stand against One.
“We should keep on moving then,” I sigh, “One?”
”Yeah, no one will find us, and we’re not far. The edge of the Everfree should be safe even for us. Ponies avoid the forest like the plague.”
Damn it, I’m tired. Everyone must be.
Following One’s yellow tail, I feel my eyelids drop. On some level, I know I’m still walking, yet here I am, in pitch darkness. The familiar many-faceted hissing voices enlighten me as to what’s going on soon:
NOW YOU UNDESTAND HOW FOOLISH YOUR PEACEFUL SOLUTION WAS.
“I wouldn’t have to go through any of that if I didn’t have to feed YOU! I would have probably dragged myself to Wet Soil anyway and-”
NO TRANSFORMATION, NO LOVE, NO STRENGTH, NO SKILLS. YOU WOULD HAVE DIED LIKE THOUSANDS OF OTHERS. THIS IS YOUR ONLY PATH, AND NOW YOU HAVE LEARNED THAT THE ONLY WAY IS CONQUEST. ONE KNOWS, EIGHT KNOWS, YOU KNOW.
“We killed a pony on our way to prison, I can understand the attack,” I hang my head, “Just not the brutality. Why would they want to wipe us out…?”
LET US SHOW YOU THE TRUTH. LET US SHOW YOU WHAT WE CHANGELINGS REALLY ARE, AND WHY CELESTIA NEEDS US GONE. OUR DESTRUCTION IS THE ONLY WAY SHE CAN KEEP HER SLAVE PONIES FROM REBELLING.
The darkness shifts. Suddenly, I’m watching a huge city engulfed in flames from up high. Ponies are screaming and running away from bigger creatures that look like eagles crossed with lions.
GRIFFONS.
These ‘griffons’ tear through any ponies trying to mount a meaningful defense. There are thousands of them. No, tens of thousands, I realize when I look from my vantage point further into the distance where a wide blue expanse of the sea is partially covered by smoke from the burning city, that the black specks behind the smoke dotting the sea are ships.
THE PONY-GRIFFON WARS, ONE OF THE FIRST YEARS BEFORE WE TURNED THE TIDE, BEFORE CHANGELINGS EVEN EXISTED. NOT EVEN TWO ALICORNS COULD PROTECT THEIR LITTLE LAND FROM PREDATORY CARNIVORES SET ON CONQUEST.
“Do you see, Wistful?” I hear hard but motherly voice. When I turn my head, there’s a pure white alicorn clad in scorched golden armor adorned with the insignia of the sun standing next to me, “We can’t fight them. We aren’t ready.”
“But milady, how is this possible?” I- Wistful asks in a trembling voice, “You have dealt with chaos gods, alicorn rebellions, encroaching darkness. I understand that diplomacy has failed, but can’t zebras help us, dragons? Why us? We aren’t warriors like earthponies, we aren’t even good with magic like your unicorns, nor can we fly fast and high like pegasi.”
Celestia lets out a long, exhausted sigh as we look down from a watchtower set on a high hill overlooking the city under attack again. In a burst of gold and pink flames, a scroll appears. She unrolls it, and as she’s reading it, I can see tears well up in her eyes and drip on the parchment. She raises her hoof, her horseshoe glows with golden light as she presses it against the message, and when she lowers it the message disappears again.
“Because force has failed as well. dear Wistful,” says Celestia, wiping her eyes, “Dragons are working with the griffons now. Zebras have lost their coastal fortresses already. Your kind, Wistful, is my last hope for a counterattack. Otherwise...” she points towards the army marching through the city, killing everypony, “I’ll have to sign more orders like this.”
“What do you mean, mila-” Wistful’s eyes go wide in horror as the sky above the entire area starts boiling, “No, you can’t! Griffons are living creatures too. We can solve this.”
Celestia shakes her head.
“The council of wizardry offered their best to begin preparing for tactical spell strikes. Conventional magic and force hasn’t worked, you and your flutterponies are refusing to cooperate, and so I don’t have a choice anymore.”
A crackling BOOM resonates through Wistful’s very bones as a pillar of light and flames devours an enormous chunk of the shoreline, makes the sea boil, and the griffon fleet capsize. The shockwave comes soon after, threatening to blow the light flutterpony king away. Thankfully, Celestia’s strong wing keeps him steady.
When the light fades, all that remains is baked, orange ground.
DO YOU KNOW WHERE THIS HAPPENED, WORM, WHERE CELESTIA’S TREACHERY STARTED?!
“...where...” I mutter.
AFTER THREE MORE STRIKES LIKE THIS WHICH WILL NOT STOP THE GRIFFON ARMIES ANYWAY, THIS ENTIRE AREA FROM THE EASTERN SHORE REACHING CLOSE TO THE CENTRAL EQUESTRIA WILL BE KNOWN AS THE BADLANDS. IT WILL NOT RECOVER FROM THE USED MAGIC FOR MORE THAN ONE AND A HALF THOUSAND YEARS.
“This won’t stop them, Wistful. They will spread, they will work in smaller groups, and they will prevail. We have bought ourselves time before they regroup and recover, but this is not the solution. We need to threaten THEM. We need a way to break their supply lines. We need a way to get the lay of their lands so that we can get unicorns capable of using this magic INTO their empire, because if we keep defending Equestria like this,” she takes in the barren landscape with a long, meaningful look, “there won’t be an Equestria to defend anymore.”
Wistful starts crying as he sits down on the floor.
“What you want is… inequine, milady. We are only a small, loving tribe.”
“You are Equestria’s citizens, and all the other tribes are already helping in this war in the best way they can.”
“YES, BUT YOU AREN’T MAKING THEM GIVE UP WHO THEY ARE!” Wistful points an accusing hoof at the alicorn.
“DO YOU REALLY BELIEVE THAT?!” Celestia screams back before lowering her voice,“Do you really think any of my ponies are a warlike species? Even pegasi are more competitve than bloodthirsty, and now every single tribe is doing their best to survive. What will you do? Will you just flee and let Equestria fall? Where will you go? Zebrica? They are crumbling faster than we are. Frozen north? Good luck dealing with the minotaurs. The unexplored west full of monsters? We carved Equestria out of chaos and madness, and you know it. You were there. What I’m asking of you is to do your fair share for our survival. None of us will be the same once this is over, but this way some might still be alive to see the end.”
Wistful closes his eyes, and joins every flutterpony within their mind. The interconnected species of healers, artists, and potion makers known for their strong empathy, so strong that worries of some were the worries of all. One’s joy was everyone’s, one’s pain affected the entire tribe. Their greatest strength, but also their weakness.
However, their physical frailty had to be eradicated if they were to survive this war.
“I will send the orders,” he say, head hung low, “Do you need us to gather in Canterlot?”
Celestia shakes her head.
“No, a secluded place will be better. If there are witnesses… my plan will cause more harm than good. However…”
“I know, I know- I must be first. I can’t let them escape this. I need to take direct control over my subjects.”
Celestia’s eyes glow green, her entire pristine body begins emitting dark smoke, and in the end pure darkness boils out of her horn, less like magic and more like liquid tar.
Wistful bows his head, and closes his eyes. This will be the end of flutterponies…
...but hopefully not ponies in general.
The world shatters in agony when he feels Celestia’s horn touch his forehead.
He senses panic as the darkness spreads from him to others, turning their empathic links into chains. Wistful knows the physical changes won’t happen immediately to prevent panic, and gives two orders.
The first one hits everyone but select few flutterponies, forcing them to gather in the castle south of Canterlot hidden deep in the forests.
The second order, however, targets the remaining few. The order is to flee somewhere safe, shrink themselves, and get away from Equestria, from this brutal reality. Lose the name flutterponies and pick a different one.
FLUTTERPONIES DISAPPEARED WITHIN A WEEK. OUR PEACE ENDED SO THAT CELESTIA GOT HERS. CHANGELINGS, AND BREEZIES. SHE WANTED QUICKLY SPREADING ASSASSINS, THE BEST INFILTRATORS, ADAPTIVE WARRIORS. WE BECAME EVERYTHING. WE EVOLVED BEYOND ANY OF HER PONIES. WE USED TO LOVE, NOW WE DEVOUR IT.
We used to be born from love, but we didn’t lose everything. It still sustains us.
Despite the situation, I can’t stop the corners of my mouth from curling up a little.
NO! WE WON THE WAR! WE BECAME THE FRONT LINES! WE BECAME THE TERRORS OF THE NIGHT! AND THEN CELESTIA SWEPT US UNDER A RUG SO THAT WE WOULDN’T TELL OTHERS ABOUT HER HERESY! WE WEREN’T HER DIRECT SUBJECTS. SHE WANTED US GONE, BUT WE WERE BORN FROM HER DARKNESS, SO WE CRAWLED BACK INTO IT. THE BADLANDS, THE PLACE WHERE KING WISTFUL CREATED OUR KIND, THE PLACE WHERE NOPONY DARES TO LIVE EVEN NOW BECAME OUR HOME.
WE ARE PERFECTION. WE ARE CHANGELINGS. WE ARE VENGEANCE.
“You are pretty fucking annoying, that’s what you are,” there's only one voice that can dispel the power of all the furious voices.
“One?” I whimper, feeling the vision -no, my own experience- end. I was there. I know how Wistful felt, I know his every fear.
I know less and less with each passing second, my own immediate experience turning back into long lost memories.
“You were following me like a zombie, so I popped in to see what’s going on. I guess this is the hive mind problem you and Eight kept so hush hush.”
FINALLY, SOME COMPETENT TOOL. YOU UNDERSTAND HOW WE SHOULD OPERATE AS CHANGELINGS!
“Ahh yes, the highly effective method of pissing everyone off and then starving to death. We tried that for-” her horn glows with golden light, revealing thirteen dark silhouettes in the blackness, “yep, thirteen queens and kings. After four hundred years of my own experience I’m open to trying something new.”
WE ARE NOT DEFEATED, THE FAILED INVASION WAS MERELY A SETBACK! LOOK WHERE THIS WORM’S APPROACH LED YOU.
One shrugs.
“Eh, merely a setback.”
DO NOT ANTAGONIZE US. YOUR RANK AND POWER ARE NOTHING COMPARED TO OUR EXPERIENCE AND KNOWLEDGE.
One’s sudden grin kinda scares me.
“Try me!”
Holes help us!
Swirling darkness rolls over us like a tidal wave. Long jaws of changeling queens and kings grow out of it, snapping inches away from us.
Then a blast of golden light from One reveals the detailed features of the thirteen changelings surrounding us.
“My mind is a fortress, you relics of the past. You pretend to guide us, but you just refuse to admit that you’re dead. You drain our love to stay like this… not alive, but not dead enough. The hive wouldn’t be a starving hole if it wasn’t for YOU!” One snarls at them.
YOU, WORM. WE WILL FORGET YOUR TRANSGRESSIONS FOR NOW IF YOU FEED HER TO US. SHE IS WEAK AGAINST YOU, WE CAN SENSE IT. ORDER HER TO WITHDRAW HER PROTECTION, AND WE WILL GRANT YOU MORE EXPERIENCE, MORE INFORMATION, AND… WE WILL SHOW YOU HOW TO REGENERATE YOUR WINGS, REGAIN YOUR SHAPESHIFTING, AND RESTORE YOUR DRONE TO FULL PHYSICAL AND MENTAL HEALTH.
One freezes.
“Can they do that, One? Is it possible?”
After a moment of grinding her teeth, she admits:
“I believe they do have the knowledge.”
Three without mental flaws and with proper wings, same for myself. I wonder what would Eight say to that…
“One, orders.”
“Y-Yes?”
“Punch the closest changeling in the face for me, will you?”
YOU PATHETIC WORTHLESS DRONE!
One looks at me, scowling. It’s fake anger, though, because One’s mind is practically glowing with relief.
“Punch? Do I look like that brute Eight?”
The changeling rulers howl in unison, more smoke covering everything. Their mouths as large as we are form out of the smoke, about to devour us.
Their leg-long fangs scrape against One’s golden barrier protecting us both.
“My mind is a fortress. Whom I let in, gets in. Whom I refuse, stays out. I can outlast you. You will not get me now, and I SURE AS HOLE WON’T LET YOU ERODE US FOR CENTURIES LIKE YOU DID TO MY QUEEN!”
A purple flash comes from behind the wall of living darkness. A glowing spear of the same colour comes out, dragging one of the changeling queens’ body impaled on it.
“One, One, One… I admit my mind isn’t a fortress.”
Eight, a necklace of severed changeling horns around her neck, walks through the mist, kicks the body off of her spear, with one stomp crushes its head to paste, and grins at One.
“Because I ain’t a little bitch who hides behind walls.”