//------------------------------// // Prologue: The Trial // Story: Martyr of the Hive // by Taranth //------------------------------// Something was wrong. So very, very wrong. But she didn't know what. She tried to focus on what it could be, but every time she struggled her thoughts slipped out from between her hooves as if coated in oil. She giggled slightly at the mental image, before realising she was distracting herself and trying to catch the wrongness again. It felt uncomfortable to even try to think about it, but that wasn't what was wrong. Maybe if she had a clue from outside. She opened her eyes and looked around, and found herself in the central hive cavern of the changeling race, and her train of thought was lost instantly. She had always thought the dark rainbow was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen, and it was never more apparent than in this cavern. Rainbows were important, were powerful symbols to ponies as well, but they thought you needed to refine light to get a rainbow. Their rainbows were... too bright, too bold, too solid. They were a thing for the daylight, and at night they faded to invisibility. Here in the darkness however, the rainbow was such a subtle thing, the tiny fragments of light that existed in the cavern causing every surface to shine with an iridescent spray of colour that shifted with every tiny movement, with a single colour strongest in each area - here green, there blue, and then orange or yellow. Such a subtle effect it was that pony eyes could not see it - they were useless in the darkness required for the true effect, and if enough light was brought in for them to see, they would say that it was only black carapace making up the cavern, broken up by the colours of eyes... Chrysalis looked around the cavern dreamily. It was so hard to think for some reason, and she had been caught up in admiring the beauty of the hive, but she needed to focus. Something was wrong. Every changeling was staring at her, but that was not too unusual, being the centre of attention was something she was used to. But... How did she get here? Was she dreaming? And why was she in the centre of the hall, instead of there on her podium beside the others? Was that what was wrong? No. It wasn't right, but the wrongness was something deeper, much deeper than that. There was another important question in there, but it was like her mind was... fuzzy. She didn't like fuzzy, fuzzy was for ponies. She wanted sharp, clear, reflective, like the carapace of a changeling. Had she spent too long as a pony? She couldn't remember. Remembering was hard, too. Something was very, very wrong. The first thing was to take her place amongst the others, where she belonged. She raised her wings to flitte-- Her wings did not move. That was strange. Not what was wrong, but it needed investigation. She tried to turn, to see what wa-- She could not turn. Her legs would not move. Her whole body would not move. Only her head. She was trapped. Held down. Encased. That wasn't right, she wasn't supposed to be trapped. Bad. But still not what was wrong. A lesser being might have panicked at that point, but Chrysalis was made of sterner stuff than that. Next step, magic. ...She had no magic. None. Drained dry. Still it seemed hard to panic. The most she could seem to pull together was a sort of detached curiosity. Her mind was still... fuzzy. Her body was encased and immobile. Her magic was gone, and with it a lot of her perception. She had never been without magic like this since the day she hatched. It still wasn't the bad feeling she got, but it was getting close. But even without magic, she could contact her children for-- She could not sense any of them. None. Not one. Gone. Lost. Alone. There was the wrongness. And there was the panic. Like having her mind plunged into ice water, she struggled to determine how this could have happened. She couldn't be alone. She had hundreds of children. They were always with her, she could talk to them at any time. They were extensions of her. How could this have happened? Even now, with that devastating realisation, her mind was still fuzzy. Putting thoughts one in front of the other was unbelievably difficult. Was it because she was alone? She had never heard of a changeling princess without a brood before. Did they help her think? She desperately tried to remember the last thing before she had woken up here. Voices echoed through the cavern but she could not be distracted now. She needed all her focus to determine what had happened. She fought to cut through the pony-fuzzy blocking in her mind, looking for something, anything. All that came to mind was a flash, a blast of sensation that overloaded every sense she had, pain, loss, and then... fuzzy, fuzzy darkness. "Ah, if she is now awake..." the voice cut through her blurred thoughts with ease. Every changeling, from drone to princess, listened when the Queen spoke. Chrysalis looked up, seeing the Queen sit upon the highest throne. Her mane cascaded around her with a pure white that no other Changeling in the hall possessed, and similarly no single colour held precedence in the reflections off her carapace. Beneath her sat five lower podiums, with colour schemes more visible. Blue, orange, yellow and green were occupied; the fifth, teal, lay empty - its intended occupant was herself, and she was down here instead, because, because... "The Changeling Hive gathers today to witness the trial and sentencing of Princess Chrysalis, for the crime of bringing war with Equestria to our Hives, without the foreknowledge or consent of myself or your sisters." Her eyes bulged wide, and she screamed - but not a sound slipped from between her fangs. ~-~-~-~ It was only half an hour later that Chrysalis was left standing like a statue, still encased, in a room deep in the hive. She had never been to this section of the hive before, and had no idea where she was. But her thoughts were not on escape, but what had been said. "I would never have suspected this sort of action from you, Chrysalis, and I am truly disappointed." The trial had been short, clean, and direct, and she had spent most of it with her mind reeling and trying desperately to say something, anything. "Normally, we might congratulate such behaviour, as is it not the way of the Changelings to appear to be one thing, while truly being another?" But there was nothing to be done. Like so many other things, trials were something that Changelings had stolen from ponies and other societies, and they had no need for defence or speeches. Her voice had been sealed, so that she would not interrupt the queen's condemnation. "But it is also in our way to remain hidden, to be subtle, to be safe. Your reckless behaviour has destroyed your children and severely damaged the Hive in and of itself." The changelings had their own methods of getting information when they wanted it, and the word of the Queen was final. No jury, no lawyers, just statements and sentencing. "And beyond that, you have thrown us into a truly dangerous situation. You have tipped our hand and brought us to direct war with Equestria itself. Our children will be hunted high and low, and for every one that feeds, three will be forced to flee or perish - and that is before they bring an army to our hive itself!" And so all she could do was stand immobile and gape at the damning eyes of her Queen and fellow princesses, and a thousand more eyes set in shimmering carapaces of every colour but her own, as the sentence came crashing down. "As this independent streak seems to breed such problematic results, we will remove it. You will be stripped of your status and reduced to the least of the mindless drones. Rest assured that in the battles to come in the wars that you have sparked, you shall stand at the front of every charge, at the centre of every defence. Perhaps we shall find some use for you after all, if their guard recognise you and dedicate good troops to assaulting you without reasoning." To be reduced to a drone. To have her reasoning, her power, her status stripped away. The thought should have truly terrified her, but again, all she could manage was detachment. After all, what sort of Princess was she now? She had no power, no status... no children. All she had left to lose was her mind, and she wasn't sure she had that to lose either. Because what she had tried so hard to say, to scream from her heart... She hadn't done it. She had absolutely no idea what the Queen was talking about.