The Coming Swarm

by lola2901

Things to Come

At first she thought they were storm clouds-that is, until she heard the buzzing. And then the screams.

Nobody seemed sure what was going on, but it was getting attention. A crowd was slowly gathering throughout the town, standing in the streets. It was so silent all you could hear was the distant blasts, and the breathing of the townsfolk. Everyone’s eyes were turned to Canterlot Mountain.

The dark swarms slammed against the magic shield protecting the distant castle, pulsing and quivering as they fought against the magic, fighting for a way in.

She tried to find her voice, demand someone tell her what was going on-but it seemed no one knew any better that she, and even so, her voice had died some short way up her throat.

And then they pierced the shield, the pink light shattering with a blast that shook the earth. It was a heartbeat before ponies started screaming, panicking. Doors slammed and locked, others fell to the ground, cowering. She tried to run, but the crowd jolted her, even as she fought to keep her feet. “Stop!” she cried, staggering. Her voice was lost among the others.

Finally, managing to get some ground, she ran. Someone knocked her hat free, but she kept running. She could get it later, she just needed to get out of here, find out what was going on. Stumbling, she pulled a sharp turn and-there.

Letting out a noise of relief, Trixie plowed through the crowd. She magically flung open the door of her cart, leaping inside. She hesitated, watching as the street began to clear, then slammed it shut, casting a lock spell.

It was dark and cold inside. Taking deep shuddering breaths as she tried to slow her heart, she yanked open a drawer, digging around inside. She tossed aside tarot cards, pencil stubs and other odds and ends, letting out a noise of relief as her hoof brushed the match box.

Pulling it out, she struck it, lighting the match with a tiny flame. Her heart was finally beginning to calm down. Lifting it magically, she lit the candles up on the shelf, casting crooked light across the small space.

Breathing hard to catch her breath, the pale blue unicorn slumped against the wall, sinking into her cot. She let her eyes fall closed as she focused on her heartbeat, trying to steady it-but her mind kept racing, trying to make sense of what she had seen.

She could feel the chill of the late day in her bones, floating through the thin wooden walls, as insubstantial as the distant blasts. Canterlot was under attack-but by what, she wasn’t really sure, or why or how-everything would be fine. The Princesses-they would handle it. By the time the moon was in the sky, all would be well.

But as the minutes dragged by, the muffled explosions didn’t cease-if anything, they were fiercer than ever. She tried to keep her mind busy, far from imagining the trouble up in Canterlot. She recited her times tables up to thirteen, thought of what trick to add to her show next, figured how to stretch her bits to cover dinner. It was still there however, the constant fear, hanging heavy on her, like a noose around her shoulders, waiting to snap tight. It felt like hours had passed, but it was hard to say. Eventually, the blasts became few and far between.

And then, silence.

Trixie stay curled up in her cot, eyes closed, listening. She strained her ears to try and pick up voices, or the sound of hoofbeats. For some time, all she heard was the high pitched tone of quiet.

Doors began to open, voices murmuring hesitantly to one another. She lay there a heart beat longer, then dragged herself to her hooves. Three of the eight candles had gone out, too undernourished to go on. Pausing by the door, she hesitated. Opening it, she turned, blowing out the other five before jumping down to the cold stone path.

She had hardly taken seven steps away from her cart when a hooded figure galloped into the square, a spray of pebbles and grit flying behind her. The figure skidded to a stop, tossing the hood back. The pony beneath the hood was strange, her skin striped, her mane, spiked. Her eyes were two dark splotches of blue, near gray with fear.

“Do not stand around and gawk! We must hurry to escape the flock!” she yelled, moving back slowly, turning to glance back towards the Everfree. “The invasion will destroy us all, please ponies, heed my call! I have a sanctuary for any who need, but we must go before they come to feed!”

There was some hesitant murmuring, but a tall pink pony stomped her hoof, racing towards the hooded pony. “You guys heard Zecora, come on!”

“The Princesses can handle it,” protested one of the ponies hesitantly, backing away. “They’ve saved us before.” There were murmurs of general agreement. Slowly, cautiously, a small smattering of ponies joined the one called Zecora.

“We cannot wait for a change of mind, we must leave while there is time,” she said solemnly, flipping her hood up.

Trixie watched for a long while, trying to think straight. Finally, as the smaller group turned to head for the forest, she cut in. “Wait-what are you running from anyway? If you know, then tell Trixie!” she demanded, trying to hide the quaver in her voice.

Zecora glanced back eyes almost glowing beneath her hood. “A creature in which few believe, the Changelings are those who lay this siege,” she said darkly.

“Changeling? What the hay is a changeling! Somebody tell us what’s going on!” protested a cyan pegasus, glaring.

The hooded pony shook her head in frustration. “Time mustn't be at waste! We are leaving with all do haste!” Turning, she galloped for the forest, and after a moment’s pause, the smaller group hesitantly followed.

Trixie glanced to Canterlot, a chill gnawing her to nothing but veins. Everything was going to be fine; come tomorrow she’d have one more show, then pack up the cart and head to the next town. The princesses would handle the invasion, and by morning life would be back to normal.

Perhaps, in another life, she would have been right.

Comments

[Yalwin Khales]

You know, it would really help the readers if they knew going in, who the main character(s) was.

Just saying, it's not that hard to do with character tags, and it'll definitely help when trying to put this story in character focused groups.

[Crescent Minor]

One correction:

“Time mustn't be at waste! We are leaving will all do haste!”

The word you want there is with, not will.
But that's a minor typo. Beyond that, I think this is a solid place to start. I want to read more about a master illusionist trying to survive the apocalypse of creatures whose primary survival mechanism is to cast illusions on themselves. That has all kinds of potential.

[lola2901]

6694008
Thanks for the advice-I'll add that up right now!

6694097
Whoops! Fixing that right now-and thanks, I think it's going to be really fun to write-I hope the story can live up to the premise!