One of the drones was missing.
Chrysalis stalked down the line, scrutinizing blue-eyed face after blue-eyed face. Their expressions told her absolutely nothing about the empty space she had just passed, but she wasn't expecting them to yield any information. Any more than she might have expected one of her own hooves to start talking.
It was simple routine to check like this after leaving so many to their own faculties for so long. She had done it hundreds of times over the course of her rule. But never had there been a gap in the line.
She sighed in frustration. It must have choked on its own saliva, or maybe collapsed in front of one of the miasma vents when she pulled her mind from its. The body would have to be found and taken care of, so that disease didn't spread through the hive. She'd have Gossamer look for it later.
With a single thought from their queen, the drones dispersed, heading back to their assigned tasks. Except for one. A single drone, eyes a shade darker than the norm and teal stubble on its skull, stepped forward.
Chrysalis raised an eyebrow. "What?"
It turned and trotted off, towards the section of the hive where the Cocooned were kept. The Queen followed. It wasn't uncommon for one of her drones to seize upon a minor desire of hers and try to fulfill it. In this case, it was probably leading her to the corpse of the missing Changeling. This was the last thing Chrysalis wanted to do, but for some reason, she kept following the dark-eyed drone.
Transparent green cocoons hung from the ceiling the occupants shifting slightly as the two Changelings entered their cavern. Chrysalis examined the emaciated, dead-eyed ponies within with mild distaste. These were the Cocooned--captive ponies kept in a half-conscious state, pumped for positive emotions to support the hive. There were barely enough here to feed Chrysalis's minuscule army. Several were swiftly dying, and no new ones had been brought in in months. It was a problem that would eventually have to be addressed--but not today.
The dark-eyed drone led her to the back of the Cocooned cavern, which was nearly five-sixths empty. Gaze blank, it pawed at an iridescent door made from the same material as the cocoons. Chrysalis peered at the door in the dim light given off by the organic prisons behind her. Pushing it open, she was greeted by a shadowy, cavernous room piled high with junk.
Saddlebags, cameras, butterfly nets, armor from every faction of the royal guards. So this was where the hunters put the things they stripped from their victims. Chrysalis wrinkled her nose at the overwhelmingly stale scent of prey--what would one of her drones be doing here?
The dark-eyed Changeling trotted into the room, reaching a hoof behind one of the stony pillars and dragging something out of a crack in the base. It pawed at it, expression almost comically blank, and Chrysalis saw that it had found a book.
"Hmm." Normally, she wouldn't waste her time with something so trivial, but something about this whole event intrigued her. Her crooked horn pulsed green as she dragged the book, a thin tome bound in orange leather, away from the drone. Eyes narrowed, she flipped it open.
The queen of the Changelings mentally cursed. The equine language had changed since the last time she'd read one of their books.
This diary belongs to: Bumblesweet, the first page proclaimed.
Well. That was easy enough. Chrysalis turned the page.
Dear Diary,
Today I went into town to talk to Daisy and Roseluck about a partnership. Because I have bees and they have
flowers, right? Well, I met Pinkie Pie on the way in and...
Chrysalis rolled her eyes. She flipped to the next entry.
Dear Diary,
Today, Applejack's older brother, Big McIntosh, came by. But he was acting a little strange...
A Changeling hunter in the guise of a handsome stallion. Callable.
Dear Diary,
Big Mac is starting to scare me. Just recently, I saw him...
Chrysalis snapped the diary closed and glowered at the dark-eyed drone.
"A colossal waste of my time," she snapped. "Why would I be interested in this?"
The drone just reached out and clumsily tapped the cover of the book. Reluctantly, she opened it again. Flipping through Bumblesweet's entries just revealed an admirably detailed account of a hunter stalking its prey. Nothing that wasn't highly familiar to her.
Wait a minute. This entry looked to have been written by a different hoof.
Today was the day that the owner of this book outlived her usefulness. Please, forgive me, for I don't know the date. But the Queen plans an invasion of Canterlot today. Though there was not much left of Bumblesweet by the end, she wished to warn her people when I told her. I would honor that request if I weren't tied to the hive by need.
Perhaps somepony, somewhere, remembers her, and perhaps they will find this diary someday. Perhaps I am not Bumblesweet's only monument.
--Anomaly
Chrysalis bared her fangs. Was this some sort of joke? Had Elytra written this? It seemed like something it would do, and neither Carapace nor Gossamer had the mental capacity to think of this. But none of them had left her sight while she was planning the invasion...and Elytra had died soon after.
She turned to another entry.
I've come back to the diary, for some reason.
So many blank pages. Should I fill them?
My story is not an interesting one, considering that the only remotely exciting thing I've ever done is what I'm doing now. But I believe it is unique, because I am the only one of my kind (besides the Queen) to have been born with a mind. I can think outside of the collective. I am my own creature.
You wouldn't believe how terrible it is.
--Anomaly
Another sentient drone. Chrysalis raised her eyes from the diary, stunned. One that I didn't create.
How could this be? She rose to her hooves and paced. This Anomaly--such a fitting name--had existed right under her muzzle. Or did exist right under her muzzle.
The queen shook off the horror that that thought brought. No, that was impossible. Elytra was laughing at her from wherever their kind went when they died, because there was no way she wouldn't have noticed another sentient drone.
Chrysalis sat back down and opened the diary again. Maybe the joke would be revealed in a later entry. Not that she needed to put her mind at ease, but still, it'd do to see this thing through to the end.
I haven't written for weeks. The preparation for the attack on Canterlot--and our subsequent failure--has been harsh. Our manes and tails were cut in preparation for battle. Our fangs were sharpened. And, still, we lost. I'm not entirely sure what happened. Only that I fought six incredibly powerful mares and watched them massacre my brethren. I humored a request from a pink one and took her form.
We were literally thrown out of the city, and it killed and maimed almost all of us. We left the ones that couldn't walk or fly. As I write this, my bands are torn and so are my wings, and all four of my hooves are split, but I'm still mobile. Still useful. And still alive, healing myself as beast I can.
--Anomaly
A sudden image flashed into Chrysalis's mind. A Changeling drone crouched on the sands of the desert, wings little more than rags and forehooves pressed to its belly to keep its organs from spilling out. Its eyes had been nearly silver--that was the only reason she remembered it. Those strange eyes.
Anomaly....
Next entry.
There are others like me.
Besides the Queen, I mean.
I learned this today, and only because one has died. There were three originally, kept from the rest of the Swarm for some reason. But now I know that they exist. I must speak with the remaining two--maybe they know why were are the way that we are. But I'll have to be careful.
I don't think that the Queen would take kindly to learning that I have been keeping something as monumental as my intelligence from her.
--Anomaly
There was no way Anomaly had been able to talk to Carapace and Gossamer. Surely she would have noticed that, at least. Frantic to read about this sentient drone's failure, Chrysalis flipped to the next page. But it was blank.
Cursing, she rifled through the rest of the pages in the diary. Blank, blank, blank--didn't this Anomaly have any sort of work ethic whatsoever? Had it simply started this diary and then never finished? Or perhaps it had died before it could record the next entry....
That thought brought her far more pleasure than it should have.
Wait. There was one page, almost the last one, that had writing on it. It was more jagged and hurried than Anomaly's other entries, but it was still recognizable as its hoofwriting. Chrysalis narrowed her eyes and read.
I know now! I know what I am! What the others are, what we're meant to be--oh dear Queen, I never would have guessed this. It seems so impossible. If Chrysalis knew, she'd
No use talking about Chrysalis. Chrysalis doesn't matter (here the queen snarled), no, only we matter. Me. Gossamer. Carapace. And Elytra, he matters the most.
He is alive and I think he knows this terrible secret. Our purpose and our origin, and I think that's why he faked his death and ran from the Queen. I must find him and speak to him, and we'll plan our next move.
I will leave soon, very soon, within minutes. The Queen is speaking to Carapace, poor, absent Carapace, and she thinks the hive is brain-dead. I will leave.
My hoof is shaking. Unbelievable.
--Anomaly
He is alive. Chrysalis read that one passage over and over, and finally, grinned humorlessly.
Anomaly and Elytra were still her drones. She'd retrieve them, and then strip them of whatever part of their little insect brains allowed them to defy her. Even if it killed them.
A/N: I'm so sorry about the gap between the first ten chapters and this one! I've been terribly busy, please accept my apology.
Thank you so much for all the favorites, all the thumbs-up, all the feedback. As always, tell me what you think. Don't hesitate to comment, because it makes my day. It really does.