//------------------------------//
// Intermission -- Momentum of a Plan 
// Story: My Little Changeling -- "I" is Magic 
// by Wing Dancer 
//------------------------------//

    Changelings never truly slept. A regular drone switched into standby mode whenever the Queen had nothing for it to do, which from the outside could be perceived as sleep. The servant psyche didn’t need to rest and was merely an extension of Chrysalis’ will, so the only time the hive truly rested was when the monarch did.

Spark-bearers on the other hoof had the luxury of being able to sleep. Some even claimed to have dreams, excitedly bragging to anyling within earshot about the bizarre events that played out in their minds during the night.

Primo hardly ever had dreams. He actively worked against having them, since they were an unnecessary distraction. Sleep was for resting and sorting out information, and if it wasn’t for that he wouldn’t bother to waste several perfectly good hours on lying unconscious on the floor.

With that in mind, the changeling conditioned himself to wake up precisely after 8 hours, just enough to spend the remaining 16 in a productive manner. Sometimes he cheated a bit and cut his sleep short or took power-naps during down-time between exercises for the sake of effectivity.

Today’s waking was unique, grossly out of his character. He didn’t remember when he fell asleep, which in itself was unusual. When he did come to with a jolt, the sun was already shining high over the canyon. He would have been really cross with himself if it weren’t for the company he was in.

Chrysalis was still asleep, her hooves wrapped loosely around Primo. Her psyche emanated a gentle aura, quite an uncommon feeling in the hive mind. Slowly, the first general recalled the events of the day before, his face melting into a smile.

He got close to mother. She showed him a side he never even dreamed existed. They talked into the night about the hive and its future. Mother laughed and nuzzled him as he described all the things he’d do to the ponies and the traitor. There was a lot of physical and mental touch that was gentle and loving, sending ripples of never before felt pleasure under his skin.

Primo stirred slightly, pressing himself carefully against his mother. Being this close to her was simply breath-taking for the changeling. The cocktail of emotions that brewed inside him would make any of his brothers and sisters salivate wildly. There was love, loyalty, passion, all wrapped up neatly in pride at being this close to the Queen. His heart fluttered wildly as Chrysalis stirred sleepily, her embrace on his body tightening. Acting on some long-forgotten instinct, the general put his head under his mother’s and sighed.

Strange, he thought, feeling a purr involuntarily rock his vocal chords. Is this what feeling is like? Are these the things that we feed on so eagerly? No wonder the ponies become so useless when we take them away. I’d kill if anyling so much as probed me right now… It feels so good to be with mother like this.


* * *


“Well well well, look who’s finally decided to join us!” chirped Wildstar, parting the little circle of ponies adoring her to meet Primo. “Where were you, brother? You kind of vanished there yesterday. You had us worried,” she pouted, eyeing the general suspiciously.

“None of your bussiness, sister,” replied Primo, unable to make himself sound cold or distant. It took all his power to keep his pleasant emotions under a lid. “I was busy with an errand.”

“It must have been something nice, brother,” mused the female changeling, circling her sibling and taking long whiffs. “You smell of love. Care to share?”

Primo huffed and took a step away from Wildstar, splaying his ears back. “No. And if you so much as think about touching me now...”

The mare raised an eyebrow, sitting on her haunches nonetheless. “Jeez, Primo. Relax. I was only kidding. I got all the love I need back there,” she pointed to the small group of ponies currently bickering with one another. “But seriously, where were you? Oddly enough, Dagaal of all changelings came to us yesterday and screamed something about you being taken away. I wanted to ask the Queen, but she didn’t respond to any of us. What’s going on, Primo?”

“Nothing that concerns you, Wildstar,” replied Primo, trotting past his sister. “You’d do best if you kept your focus on improving your performance instead of prying into my life.”

Wildstar snorted viciously. Telling her to butt out of something was pretty much an invitation to the opposite. 

“Something is wrong with him, Boulder,” whispered Wildstar, observing her older brother like a hawk. “I mean, he always had a pole stuck deep up his ass, but today he must have discovered the vibration function or something.” She waited a few seconds for a reaction, but Boulder acted as if he hadn’t heard his sister at all. With a sigh, she continued: “He’s not only snappy, but he’s actually not even trying! He seems kind of, I don’t know, distracted? And is it just me, or is he actually smiling from time to time? ”

The smaller general spared Wildstar a bored look and shrug. As far as he was concerned, how Primo reacted to any of them was of no consequence. As long as they could cooperate when needed, any personal quirks or traits were just something that happened.

“Psh,” huffed Wildstar, squinting at Primo with a grim expression. “Somethings in the air. Primo’s changed, I can feel it. He disappears for hours on end, Dagaal doesn’t shoot him nasty looks anymore...or rather, not as frequently. And now he smells of love while we’re being rationed only the crappy mushrooms.” She sat down, allowing her circle of admirers to engulf her again. “What are you up to, dear brother of mine?”


* * *


Was it just Primo, or have the past days been marginally less irritating than usual?

Wildstar was silent, and even if she stared at him most of the time, her lack of jabbering at him was refreshing. Dagaal was as nice as he came, too distracted practicing his magic and fine-control. That also put the pony teachers more at ease, since they didn’t have to lure him away from trashing exercises with how bored the behemoth got waiting for his turn.

“The sun is warm, the wind soothing under the wings,” silently mused Primo, darting into a small maze dug for agility training. “I feel...content?” Was that the proper word for it? When everything was alright the way it was? “I mean, there are imperfections here and there. Of course there are,” Primo shook his head, taking a series of right angles that zigzagged up and down in the pitch-blackness of the drilled tunnel. “But they don’t seem as glaring now. Humph.”

So far, Primo managed to keep the training sessions a secret from Wildstar, who tried to follow them whenever she could. It was child’s play to either select a time at which the female was distracted with her entronauge or sic Dagaal at her if she was too persistent. When she decided to tell on him to the Queen, she had already been too late - Primo made up a story to Chrysalis about how these trainings should be kept a secret for now, while he developed and improved his teaching techniques. Her approval and pride in him was elating.

Life was starting to look up. For a time, Primo even forgot the reason why he was training and preparing. He was loved by mother, coached the most unruly of the generals into a presentable being and annoyed Wildstar. How could anything go wrong? The problem turned out to be everything going according to a plan.


* * *


“Dagaal! It is not your turn!” shouted the unicorn instructor.

As per usual, the sentiment was ignored by the massive changeling, who unexpectedly found himself liking a new puzzle game introduced by the ponies.

In a rectangular niche, fifteen shaved rocks were placed to fill up the space, leaving a single field unoccupied. The blocks were numbered from one to fifteen and scrambled for each general, the goal being sliding the tiles around on the ground until they were properly arrayed again. It turned out to be an entertaining distraction, and even Dagaal begun following the rules after having trashed three sets of stones.

“Hey, Dagaal, let others try too,” half-heartedly chimed in Wildstar. She was busy shaving the tip of her hoof with a jagged rock, a motion she found pleasurable and more lady-like than rolling around the dirty floor in hopes of a good scratch.

The behemoth could care less about the wants of others. He was having fun at the moment, and even the little annoying voice in his head became less of a pain in the flank when it begun helping out in figuring the best way to move the rocks. Not that he needed the help, of course. It just so happened that once in a while he’d make the same move the weaker spark mentioned a few seconds ago.

Move the blank to the third row and then down. But really, we should let the others have a go. We are doing so good as of late, without causing trouble, right? hopefully asked the inferior spark. It felt like it was actually having less trouble with the brute ever since Primo took him under his wing. While he still hated the stuck up general, he couldn’t deny him a thanks for making his existence a little less miserable. “Come on, it’s almost time for our training session anyway. Don’t you want me to go away while you smash rocks? Or changelings? Hmm?”

Dagaal merely grunted, deeply in thought. He moved the rocks around, leaving a blank spot on the second row. After a short bout of hesitation, he shifted another stone and then moved a row down. The puzzle was coming along nicely, with only a few bits out of place.

“Alright, brother, enough is enough,” said Primo, stepping forward. On reflex, he reached out with his telekinesis to grab Dagaal, as he has done countless times before. The action was so natural to him, so routine, he didn’t spare it another thought. He realized his mistake the moment the mana field wrapped itself around Dagaal.

In the past, the brutish changeling never had enough self-control to put up a fight in the arena of magical combat. He was strong and had energy to spare, but his technique allowed any half-decent spellcaster to scatter the power, making it as useless as wind gusting against an oak tree. Today, however, Dagaal knew much more. He understood the basics, at least. And that was more than enough.

With a loud crash, the mana field around Dagaal shattered, the feedback of having his grip torn away so violently rendering Primo half-blind with pain. In a haze, he saw his brother’s muzzle spread into an ugly grin, the bull-like head and jagged horn angling towards him.

For Dagaal, this was an exhilarating sensation. For the first time in his life, he resisted the shackles that would bind him. He set himself free, broke the vicious cycle of his spirit being contained over and over again. So far, ponies and changelings alike only sought to mold him for their needs. They punished him for his personality, for his wants and desires. But not anymore!

Today would be the day he finally said no.

Or rather, shouted out: “I WILL SET FIRE TO THE BLOOD RAIN.”