Chapter 6
Eight years before Integration…
“Winter Wrap Up, Winter Wrap Up!”
“Let’s finish our holiday cheer!” sang a group of brown-vested colts and fillies as they trotted past, pulling along little carts of twigs and straw for the animals to make their nests.
Caramel watched them go for a little while before resuming his trot towards Sweet Apple Acres. The sun was already clearing the horizon, but it was still obscured by a heavy cover of clouds and its muted light painted everything with a light blue hue. Ponies were purposefully trotting towards their team’s assigned posts. Blue-vested pegasi were doing laps up in the sky above Ponyville, warming up for the strenuous work ahead. Some of them were already angling off south, no doubt to fetch the birds back for spring. He shivered a little as a stiff breeze swept through the town; it easily bit through the green vest that marked him as a member of the plant team for Winter Wrap Up.
“Morning, Caramel!”
He looked up just as Sash zipped overhead and landed on top of a lamppost. He stopped and waved at her. “Morning.”
“Trying out for the plant team this year?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
She beamed and swooped down to his side. “Well, so am I!”
“That’s ni—” Caramel stopped when he realised that she was wearing a green vest just like his. That was odd. She’d been in the weather team for the past two years. He cocked an eyebrow and asked, “Why the change? I heard that you were doing a pretty good job with clearing the clouds.”
Her enthusiasm wavered a little. “Well, you know… after the little incident last year…”
Oh, right.
Caramel didn’t need her to finish the sentence. He winced at the memory of the ‘little’ incident. He had been assigned to the team of earth ponies skating over the lake to make the ice easier to melt, and things had gone rather well at first. But when the ice had cracked unexpectedly beneath him, he had panicked and clammed up right in the middle of the lake. Unaware of his predicament, Sash and her team had already been busy clearing the clouds, and it hadn’t taken long for the sun to do the rest of the work.
Just then, another gust of chilly wind blew over, and he shivered at the memory of plunging into the icy lake. Luckily for him, the frigid water had shocked him back into action, and he was able to swim partway to the shore before a couple of ponies dove in to help haul his frozen flank to safety. Sash had been particularly mortified, apparently because she had failed to notice or to help him out of the lake because she was still kind of afraid of deep water. She still only swam if she had water wings.
“You’re not beating yourself up over that, are you?” he asked. “It was just an accident.”
She shrugged. “I guess. But I thought it would be a nice change of pace, anyhow. Berry Punch thinks I’m not strong enough to push a snow plough.” Her mouth curled into a sporting smile. “I intend to show her otherwise.”
Caramel chuckled. He couldn’t complain. It would be great to have somepony familiar to work with.
They fell in step together as they made their way towards the Apple family farm, which was to be the headquarters for this year’s plant team. Snow crunched underhoof as he accelerated into a brisk trot to warm himself up. The pegasi had stopped all snowfall for the day, but between all of the snow already on the ground and the sun being hidden by the heavy clouds it was a little colder than he would have liked.
“Besides,” Sash playfully thumped him on the shoulder, “Plant team has it really simple. No ice skating, no messing around with animals—just shovelling snow, digging holes and planting seeds. There’s no way we can muck it up.”
“Ssshhh, don’t jinx it!” Caramel hissed, shortly before they both burst out laughing as they carried on to Sweet Apple Acres.
The pony in charge of the plant team was an orange-maned, red-coated guy named Big Macintosh. As they neared the hilltop on which the crowd of green-vested ponies were standing, he could hear the huge stallion barking out instructions for everypony. Caramel and Sash broke into a canter to catch up, and by the time they got there, the stallion’s last words were, “—so work in teams. Don’t bite off more than you can chew.”
Ponies began to break off from the main group to work the snow ploughs lined up by the edges of the snowy fields. Caramel turned to Sash, and at her nod, they both followed suit. There was no shortage of more experienced ponies willing to show them how things were done, and every now and then a member of the Apple family would trot over to bark out instructions and encouragement for everypony.
It was a strenuous day of clearing snow, ploughing the ground, planting seeds and watering the fields. By sunset, Caramel was sweaty, covered in dirt, and thoroughly worn out—his legs were a little shaky, and the cart of farming tools and empty seed bags he was pulling felt like it was growing heavier by the minute. For some reason, Sash had fared better than him, though he suspected that she was using her wings to help with propulsion. But only slightly. She was also panting and puffing like a pair of bellows and her tongue was lolling out rather comically.
The crickets were out and chirping when they crested the final hill to the barn. Lamps were posted about the fences far below, and Caramel could see the last ponies making a straight line for it from all over the orchard. The stars were out in the purple twilight, and the orange glow of the west horizon was already fading away.
It was a breath-taking view from the hilltop—and he couldn’t give a single hoot about how pretty it was.
“Ugh, kill me now,” Caramel groaned as he removed his harness and flopped onto his back, right next to the cart. The ground was a little damp from the melted snow, but he really couldn’t care less about hygiene at the moment. He simply lay there, content to watch the moon rise into the sky as he waited for the aching in his muscles to fade away. They were already late—a few more minutes of dawdling wouldn’t hurt.
Sash had also removed her harness and was lying on the ground next to him. “Wow, I think I’m not going to be able to walk tomorrow.” She winced as she stretched her limbs. “Or the day after, for that matter.”
“Yeah. They really should put some oil on these things.” Caramel thumped his hoof on the nearest wheel on his cart in emphasis. It creaked rather loudly in protest. And then creaked some more as it started to move.
Caramel’s eyes widened. Oh, hayseed, I’m a stupid pony. He’d parked his cart too close to the slope!
He sprang up and gasped as his muscles cramped, but just managed to grab onto the edge of the cart’s compartment. He dug his hind hooves in, but the cart was too heavy, and most of its weight was already off the trail and on the steep grassy slope, past the point of no return.
“Caramel, just let it go!” Sash cried from behind him.
He ground his teeth as his hooves slid and dug furrows in the ground. There was no way he was ending this Winter Wrap Up with another embarrassing blunder!
It turned out that sheer stubbornness wasn’t enough to stop the cart, though. He was forced to let go when it threatened to drag him down with it. But barely a second after he had released, somepony crashed into his back, and the world became a blurry tumble of sky, dirt, grass and stars.
He crashed into a large, thick bush at the bottom of the hill, shortly before somepony tumbled in and landed right on top of him.
“Oof!”
It took him a moment to get his eyes to stop spinning in their sockets. When he was finally able to focus, he found a rather dizzy Sash lying on his chest.
“Uh, what happened?” he slurred.
She shook her head and squinted at him in confusion, then blushed and grinned sheepishly. “Sorry. Thought you were going down with the cart—I wanted to pull you back but didn’t expect you to let go of that thing.”
They stared at each other for a moment, and then started giggling.
“You’re a mess,” Caramel said, reaching out to brush off a smudge of dirt and crushed grass from her cheek.
“Pfft, as if you look any better,” she retorted with a grin.
“Hey, are you guys okay?” a stallion’s voice called out. Hoof steps became audible, and then the branches of the bush above them were suddenly parted. “I saw the runaway cart and—” the stallion’s words trailed off.
An awkward silence ensued. They simply stared at the newcomer, who was suddenly extremely fidgety. The fact that they were panting from near-exhaustion and the unexpected tumble down the hill didn’t help matters at all.
The stallion allowed the branches to spring back into place, blocking them from view. “Umm, never mind,” he said. “I’ll just… find somepony else to… help move the carts. Yep. Don’t mind me.”
“Did he just think we were doing… something?” Sash asked when the hoof steps had faded away.
Caramel’s face and ears were burning. “Err, I’m not sure we can blame him. Could you, uh, get off me, please?”
“Oh, right.” Sash chuckled nervously as she clambered off of him.
She’s really cute when she does that…
The branches of the bush rustled as Sash barged through them and out into the open. “Come on,” she said, “let’s go get your runaway cart. Hope it didn’t get too busted up.”
For some reason, Caramel found himself thinking that even if it was, it was would be totally worth it.
* * * * *
Two months before Integration…
The ravine was narrow and very deep. It was also cold and dark. Even with his altered eyes, it was difficult to see anything clearly. The only light came from the cracks above, a dreary sort of orange-purple that did little more than outline the black silhouettes of the vegetation growing above. It was uncomfortably damp where he lay, but he didn’t want to move.
There was something out there. He could hear it… whispering and slithering on the surface, searching for him. He cowered in the darkness, fearing that his pounding heart might give him away any second. A swirling mass of black mist peeked over the edge of the ravine, vaguely shaped like a pony head. Though it had no visible eyes, he could tell that it was searching the darkness, turning this way and that, slowly and patiently. He held his breath as its gaze swept over him. It lingered over him for some time, but it eventually turned away and started looking in a different direction. Lungs burning, he sighed in relief.
That was when his back started to itch. He ignored it at first, but it steadily grew in intensity as the seconds ticked by. Even more inconveniently, the mist refused to leave, so he dared not scratch. He ground his teeth. What had started as a little scratching tickle in his back had now grown into a burning itch that clamoured for his attention. He arched his back and bent here and there in an attempt to relieve it, but to no avail. It was unbearable! Groaning inwardly, he decided to take a risk and tried to scratch it with a hoof, but was foiled when he found that he couldn’t reach it.
Then the itch started spreading. Throwing caution to the winds, he got up and pressed his back against the rough wall of the ravine, scouring it up and down. Oh, sweet relief! He sighed contentedly and looked up—and realised that the black mist was looking directly at him. His heart jumped in his chest as the black mass poured over the edge and into the ravine like a torrent of water. It was going to devour him!
He yelped and scrambled away just before it struck, and he broke into an all-out gallop down the ravine. Gravel and forest litter crunched beneath his hooves as he bolted in the darkness, with only the occasional shaft of orange-purple light to illuminate his way. It was a miracle that he hadn’t tripped yet.
When he could no longer keep up the breakneck pace, he slowed to a brisk trot and risked a glance back. He moaned when he saw the mist still trailing him. It didn’t seem to be trying particularly hard to catch him—it was just matching his pace, keeping a ten-foot distance between them. He sped up to a canter, and so did the mist. But his burning lungs were already giving out, and he was soon forced to stagger to a slow crawl.
“Leave… me… alone,” he rasped between laboured breaths.
The mist stopped. “Wait…” it whispered.
He blinked. Did it just speak? No. He knew better than to trust it. With a groan he hauled himself up and stumbled away. There was absolutely no chance he was sticking around to find out what the thing wanted with him. Nothing good, that was for sure.
“Stop,” it whispered again. This time its tone was almost pleading.
He shook his head and carried on, keeping a close eye on it. He knew it was just waiting to pounce on him when he turned his back. Well, he wasn’t going to let that happen!
The distance between them grew. A swirling tendril extended from the cloud and waved frantically, like somepony’s mad gesturing when somepony else was about to do something incredibly stupid. Then came the ghostly whisper again; “Wait… don’t!”
Yeah, righ—
His hoof descended into empty air. He whipped his head around and gasped at the sight of the chasm gaping before him, just as the rest of his body followed his misplaced hoof. The rush of air grew into a roar as he plummeted into complete darkness, the spot of light above shrinking until it was a tiny, purple speck. He tensed up, awaiting the inevitable part where he was dashed to pieces…
“Hrrkk!”
Caramel awoke with a gasp. A couple of the changelings hanging from the ceiling directly above him had their eyes slightly open in sleepy curiosity. He mouthed a word of apology for waking them, and they soon went back to sleep. He couldn’t, though. The nightmare was still too fresh in his mind.
The dream was recurring with unnerving regularity, usually in the second or third eight-hour cycle of the day, and it was always some variation of being chased by that nameless creature. Today was unusual, though, in that some parts of it had mimicked pony shapes and that it had actually spoken to him…
He really hoped that it wasn’t a side-effect of his daily dose of royal jelly. Chitin still brought him a bowl of it every day, although the amount was steadily decreasing as time went along. He had enough to deal with without—
Oh, ponyfeathers…
His suddenly realised that his back was itching, and that it was the same infernal itch that had plagued him in his dream! He reached with a hoof to scratch his back, but found that it was also in exactly the spot where he couldn’t properly reach. The itch was inside his wing buds.
Now that it had his full attention, the itch was steadily growing in intensity, burning like wildfire under his skin. Oh, no you don’t! Gritting his teeth, Caramel rolled onto his back and writhed around, feeling like a dog rolling in the grass. The floor was decent at roughing up his back, but not nearly good enough at reaching the deep itch. He needed more force.
Grunting in frustration at the burning itch, he got up and leaned with his back against the rocky wall, pushing himself up with his hind legs and letting himself slide down again, scouring his back across the rocky surface. He sighed in relief. Finally, some results! He continued grinding his back against the wall, ignoring the little stabs of pain elsewhere that meant that he was probably losing some of his coat in the process. The feeling of destroying that horrible itch was simply too good for him to stop.
At least, that was until something burst on his back with a wet splat, and the sweet relief was replaced by jarring pain. He gasped and quickly righted himself, inspecting his back for any sign of injury. He’d lost a bit of coat, all right, but he had also busted his wing buds. The formerly hard and bulging lumps were now gashed and weeping a clear fluid, and he could see bluish, floppy things underneath the chitinous shreds. It was uncomfortable to the point of distraction, like having something in his eye. He really needed to free his wings.
Oh, this is just great. This really wasn’t the time and place! Glancing around, he could see that his dorm mates were all asleep, and he didn’t want to bother them with a problem like this. He tried to peel off the strips of hard skin with a hoof, but encountered the same problem of having them in a very awkward position for reaching with his hooves. After much twisting, turning and mental ranting, he managed to pull off a strip, and found himself glaring the pair of busted wing buds in frustration. The itch was coming back.
Oh, come on!
And then they did. A couple of strips suddenly glowed green and tore themselves away, causing him to yelp in surprise. He glanced around, looking for the culprit, but saw no one but the sleeping changelings. At the same time, he realised that there was a faint glow above his field of vision; he looked up, but it wasn’t coming from the changelings hanging directly over him. It was coming from—
My horn.
Caramel felt it with a hoof; it had grown significantly longer in the days since he’d started working, and was now six inches of hard, curved and jagged chitin. There had been times when he thought he could feel a sort of involuntary twitching inside it, but this was the first time he had actually done anything with it other than sense the magic of others.
He closed his eyes and focused again, taking his time to explore the new sensation, much like how he had learnt how to walk on walls. There was this little feeling of pressure inside his horn, like a tense muscle that was just waiting to relax. He couldn’t get it to ease up, though. He was stumped for a moment, and grew a little worried when the pressure didn’t let up—until it occurred to him that he hadn’t given it an outlet to begin with.
He opened his eyes and focused on his back once more, willing the shreds of skin to come loose. He smiled a little when he felt the pressure in his horn shift, and the strips glowed and moved. It was nowhere near as forceful as before, and manipulating them felt rather awkward and clumsy, but he eventually managed to peel off the remnants of his wing buds with little discomfort. The itching finally stopped.
Once they were free, his crumpled, blue-hued, semi-transparent wings began to pulsate. He could actually feel his blood pumping through their veins, straightening them out. It was slow going, but as the minutes ticked by, they eventually became properly erect and stiffened out.
His wings were shaped like daggers and had notches and holes along their edges, almost exactly like other changelings’, except that they were small. He noted with a twinge of disappointment that they were more suited to a filly or colt—there was no way that those things would be able to lift him. He sighed, and his wings buzzed for a second, seemingly in response to his emotions. Maybe they just needed some time to grow.
Feeling a little worn out, he leaned against the rocky column – carefully, after figuring out how to fold his wings flat on his back – and waited for Sash to come by. It would soon be time for his speaking lessons.
Sure enough, a sharp click announced Sash’s presence, and he got up and trotted after her to a secluded tunnel where they could have some privacy.
“Morning,” he greeted, once they were out of earshot of his sleeping dorm mates.
“Yeah, morning.” Sash was busy inspecting his wings. “Can you move them?”
He took a moment to find the right muscles, then he made them flutter for a second.
Sash smiled. “Give them a few months to grow, and I’ll be giving you flying lessons!”
“I used magic, too,” he announced.
Sash blinked in surprise. She scrounged around for a bit and picked up a pebble from a dark corner and offered it to him, saying, “Show me.”
His second attempt at manipulating something with magic was wasn’t any less awkward as the first. The pebble wobbled around furiously like a drunken housefly, but at least he was able to lift it completely off her hoof.
“Not bad. I think it may be time for you to move on,” she announced, after tossing away the pebble. “You’re developing all the necessary qualities for the next task Mother has in store for you. Come on—let’s see those legs of yours.”
Caramel complied. His legs already had a few holes that went clean through them, and a few others that were close to reaching that state. The skin on the lower parts of his legs had grown hard, with a slight sheen around the edges of the holes. They no longer hurt like the open wounds they had once been, and although he had almost lost all feeling on the surface of his forelegs, his hooves had become remarkably sensitive to compensate. There were times when he thought he could almost taste something just by touching it.
He had also grown skinnier. Any fat that he’d retained from his previous lifestyle had long since been burned away; his waist was narrower than before and his ribs were clearly visible. His meals in the hive consisted mostly of royal jelly, plus the occasional portion of fungus that Overseer Anther saw fit to distribute. Even though they’d harvested a huge amount of it, the next harvest was a long time off, and rationing was pretty tight. Strangely enough, he didn’t seem to be losing weight. He never felt weak—in fact, with all the work they’d made him do in the past week, he was developing the dense, wiry kind of strength that changelings seemed to have.
Most of his front teeth had already fallen out, and in their place had erupted fangs, two of which were always poking out. As for his tail, he’d lost half of the hair on it. The base was still covered in brown hair, but its end was thick, stiff and grey, like a fish fin. Sash fiddled with it playfully and chuckled.
“You’re turning into quite the changeling,” she said. “A few more weeks and you could probably learn to shape-change.”
Caramel patted his mane—he was thankful that it was still relatively intact, dirty though it was. “Not completely, I hope. Never thought I would go bald before having grandkids. It’s crazy.”
Sash raised an eyebrow. “You got a problem with bald ponies?”
He opened his mouth, thought about it for a second, then snapped it shut. Uh oh. Save for the queen, all changelings were bald.
Sash was tapping a hoof. “Well?”
“Umm… oops?” He grinned sheepishly.
“That’s it, no more hugs for a week,” she growled.
“Oh come on,” he pleaded. He scooted closer to her, but she simply scoffed and turned away in mock disdain. A thought occurred to him then, and he grinned.
“Technically, you guys still have manes, right?” He stroked the fin-like crest that ran down the back of her neck all the way to her shoulders. “And yours is smoother and curvier than the others I’ve seen.” He gave her his best smile. “I like it.”
Sash snorted. “Hmph. B for effort, I suppose.” She turned around and grinned, spreading both forelegs wide. “C’mere, you.”
It felt good to be with Sash. She visited him regularly to teach him Vespid, and sometimes even managed to take time away from her regular duties to spend extra time with him. Whenever she did, she always left him feeling revitalised, somehow.
“Okay, class is in session.” She released him from her tight hug and pointed at his wings. “Now that you’ve got those, let’s see how much control you have over them—you should finally be able to speak the full range of our language.”
* * * * *
“You’re vibrating your wings a little too long, there. Your tone sounds sarcastic,” Sash commented.
Caramel produced a chirp with his mouth and buzzed his wings for a split second. Small though they were, and pretty easy to manipulate, they had muscles of their own that could get tired. And after almost an hour of Vespid lessons, they were starting to get a little numb. It didn’t help that it was rather difficult for him to differentiate between the non-verbal ‘words’ of Vespid.
Sassaflash cringed a little. “Umm, that’s better, but now you sound like you’re tipsy.
“Tchaak,” he muttered.
She frowned and narrowed her eyes at him. “I’m pretty sure I didn’t teach you that. Thorax has been showing you how to swear, hasn’t he?”
He shrugged. “First words everypony learns for a new language, right?”
Sash rolled her eyes. “Oh yeah, that makes it perfectly excusable.” Then, her expression softened. “Oh well, you’ve made progress—we can pick this up again later.”
Hoof steps announced the presence of others in their secluded spot. Caramel turned and saw Queen Chrysalis stalking towards them, with Thorax in tow not far behind. He gave them a sharp chirp in greeting, which the newcomers returned, almost lazily.
Chrysalis turned her eyes to Sash and said, “Report.”
Sash quickly launched into a summary of his recent changes and what they had covered in his latest lesson. Chrysalis seemed only mildly interested throughout, even when she mentioned his newly acquired wings. But when Sash spoke of his budding proficiency in magic, the queen smiled.
“Is that so?” Chysalis asked. “Come here.”
He obeyed and trotted up to her, feeling his heart flutter with a little apprehension.
“Hold still, and tell me if you can feel this.” She inclined her horn towards his.
Green magic flared on her jagged appendage, and he felt the spell as a steady sort of hum in his mind. He closed his eyes and tried to filter out his other senses. There was something odd about her magic. The spell seemed to have a will of its own, seeking his presence, and when it did he recoiled in surprise. It felt eerily similar to the feeling of being hunted by the shadow in his dreams. He opened his eyes and realised that he had shrunk away from the queen.
“It’s good that you can feel it, but don’t run from my magic,” Chrysalis chided. “Just accept the connection.”
Caramel approached her once more, ignoring the curious gazes of Sash and Thorax from behind the queen.
The hunted feeling came again, but this time, he allowed the tendril of magic to connect with him instead of fleeing from it. And with it came an unexpected surge of power. He gasped in surprise. It was sheer potential—the ability to do anything he wanted, on whatever he wanted; and it was all in his own. It didn’t last for very long, though. After a few seconds, the magical link was severed. But it did leave something behind. If the power he had sensed earlier had been an avalanche, then the charge it had given him was like a snowdrift. And it alerted him to a new sense of being—where he had once only felt emotional willpower and physical strength, he now could clearly feel magical reserves.
“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Chrysalis asked with a toothy grin.
Caramel nodded. Just like how happiness could give energy to somepony who was otherwise tired, the concentration of magic in his horn was making him a little giddy.
“Good. Now give it back. That portion came from a mix of love and hope, and it’s too good to waste on you.”
“How do I do that?”
“Figure it out,” she replied. “I’m here just in case you hurt yourself.”
Gee, that makes me feel so much better. He tried to channel the power in his horn back into a form that he could transfer—with little result. Closing his eyes and feeling a little self-conscious about how he probably looked constipated, he tried to push the magic out of his horn once more.
“Give it an outlet,” Sash advised. “You can try pretending to give your horn instructions—it’s harder to do anything if you don’t think of details.”
Easier said than done. He took a deep, calming breath and focused again. I want to give power back to Chrysalis, he thought to himself, willing his horn to do something, anything. Still, nothing happened. He could feel pressure building in his horn as his frustration grew.
“Focus on her horn, Genius,” Thorax suddenly chittered in exasperation. “Try picturing—”
“I’m trying—shush!” Caramel snapped, picturing himself throwing a book or something at the changeling. He really didn’t need the distraction!
He suddenly saw a flash of light through his closed eyelids and felt a concussive force erupt from his horn, throwing him off balance. A split-second later, he heard something crash into the tunnel wall. He shook his head to clear the sudden onset of double vision, and saw Thorax crumpled up against the wall, upside down. There was an outline of his body plastered on the grey rock, surrounded by black soot. The changeling himself looked a little dazed, and steam was coming off of his carapace. Chrysalis and Sash had backed off a little, apparently just as surprised as he was by the little explosion.
“Oh, hayseed.” Caramel rushed to Thorax and helped him back onto his hooves. “Sorry about that. I didn’t know that was going to happen.”
Thorax grunted and pushed him away. “Hmph. That’s the last time I’m giving you tips on magic,” he growled as he dusted himself off.
Chrysalis was cackling. “Hah! You’re getting there. The concept of transferring energy is very similar—only gentler. Try again, but on me this time. Amusing as it is, blasting Thorax is a waste of magic.”
Gentleness, he thought as he shut his eyes once more. I need to give. Not throw a tantrum. An idea occurred to him, and he pictured himself holding out a bowl like the one they used to feed him royal jelly. He filled it with magical power, felt the energy flow into the space in his mind that was not really his own, and imagined offering it with both fore hooves to Chrysalis. This time, he felt a tendril of magic extend from his horn, like a second, prehensile tail. His heart pounded in excitement as he sent it towards Chrysalis’ horn, and he felt that vast reservoir of power once more as they connected. Only this time, he was giving away what little he had. At the last moment, he remembered to break off and severed the connection.
Chrysalis was smiling in satisfaction when he opened his eyes. “Much better.” She then turned to Sash and said, “Attend to your other duties. I will take him to the nursery.” To Thorax, she added, “You will accompany us. I’m transferring both of you to Keeper Caste until further notice.”
Caramel saw Thorax’s jaw drop. He clearly wanted to protest the decision, but didn’t for obvious reasons. Gonna have to ask him about that later, he thought.
* * * * *
Chrysalis made him practice channelling magic several times more before they departed, until she was certain that he could do it consistently without dispersing it into his surroundings and wasting it all.
The nursery was a part of the hive that he’d never been to before. It was deeper than the fungus chambers, but where those had been humid and warm, the air in the tunnel leading to the nursery was cool and dry. The surfaces of the walls were porous and hard to the touch, and it occurred to him that changelings had pretty impressive climate control for a community that didn’t use tools and machinery.
“Caramel, meet Tibia,” said Chrysalis, gesturing with a hoof towards the female changeling that came trotting over to greet them. “She’s in charge of Keeper Caste, and she will be your overseer from now on.”
“What would you have him do?” asked Tibia.
“I’ve given him some love. Let him feed the young ones.”
Tibia nodded, then cast a glance at Thorax. “What about him?”
The queen paused in thought. “Do as you please. Rax is here to assist you in making sure the pony doesn’t get himself or anyone else in trouble. He’s hopeless at finding his way around, sometimes.” With that said, she left the three of them together.
Thorax looked like he had just resigned himself to a fate worse than death, or something. “Great. Now I’m literally foalsitting. This is beneath me.”
“Oh, quit complaining,” Caramel replied. “How bad can it be?”
“Very bad if you hurt any of the nymphs. I’d chew you to pieces and bury you alive,” said Tibia with a cheerful smile. “Follow me. It’s just a little ways in.”
In contrast to the mannerisms of the previous overseers he’d seen, Caramel thought that Tibia was rather… nice. Although she had given a rather macabre warning in a joking manner, her voice was smoother and more pleasant to listen to than most other changelings. Unless she was deliberately altering her voice, it came pretty close to a pony’s. Also, she didn’t have that predatory sort of stare that most other changelings gave him when they first met. So it was with unusual optimism that he followed her into the nursery.
Between the natural rock columns and artificially dug tunnels, hollowed out chambers and arched ceilings, the place had the appearance of a catacomb like those illustrated in the books of ancient architecture. It was also very dim in there, even by changeling standards. He found himself wishing that the place was a little brighter, and to his surprise, it did become brighter. He could feel a gentle tingling on the tip of his horn as green light shone on—
Eggs. There were hundreds of them scattered in clusters throughout the place. Each was oval in shape and almost as large as a beach ball, seemingly glued to the ground by lumps of resin at its base. There were also huge, sagging sheets of brownish, semi-transparent material suspended from the ceiling on strands of dry resin. An empty husk, shaped like a dragonfly’s abdomen.
Caramel froze as little blue eyes blinked in the darkness beyond the reach of his light. Something chittered close by, off to his side, and when he turned to look, he found a pair of blue eyes staring at him just inches away from his face.
“Whoah!” he exclaimed, hastily jumping backwards. The little changeling clinging to the ceiling gave a frightened chirp and skittered to hide behind a nearby stalactite.
“Nice one. You’re clearly foalsitting material,” Thorax said.
Tibia, however, was watching Caramel expectantly. She kind of looked like Miss Cheerilee when she was giving somepony a chance to set things right before she intervened. Gulping, he trotted over to the stalactite.
“Hey there. I’m sorry about that—you just startled me,” he said.
The little changeling peeked out from behind the rock formation and edged closer to him, until their faces were inches apart, with it upside down and he, right side up. It sniffed at him and chirped, “Love?”
“Err...” Caramel turned to Tibia for help.
“Feed him,” she said. “Chrysalis showed you how, didn’t she?”
He turned back to the little changeling, and found about a dozen others nearby, on the walls, ceiling and floor. Some were no bigger than foals, whilst others were the size of school-age colts and fillies. Wingless, too. And they were watching him eagerly, like children who had been just told that they were about to receive presents from somepony.
“Go on,” Tibia coaxed. “The nymphs won’t hurt you. They’re your little brothers and sisters, after all.”
Brothers? Sisters? Caramel had to take a moment to process that. While it was true that, technically, just about everyone in the hive was a foster sibling if Chrysalis had taken the role of a surrogate mother, they were all his betters when it came to experience of life in the hive. Any one of them could easily look down on him. But now, there were going to be others that might actually look up to him…
Turning to the nymphs, he repeated the process of transferring magic as he had done with the queen, gingerly sending out a tendril of power to one of the little changelings. But instead of the vast reserve of power that he had sensed in Chrysalis, he encountered a small, dense pocket of curiosity, playfulness, and hunger in the little one, along with a tinge of impatience. There were others as well, on the edge of his consciousness. They were all hungry.
The nymph happily siphoned off a small portion of his reserves before breaking the connection, after which a second prick of consciousness pounced on his own, clamouring for attention. He made another connection and felt another one feed off of his magic.
Somewhere at the back of his mind, he heard Tibia asking Thorax, “Aren’t you going to help him?”
“What for?”
“Come on, he’s getting swamped. I’m going to help, but it would be better if you did, too. Be nice for a change.”
“I don’t do nice.”
Caramel was feeding the fifth or sixth one now. It was hard to keep track with their collective consciousness crowding in on him. At one point, the mental din lessened a little as someone else, probably Tibia, joined in feeding them the magic they hungered for. But more nymphs seemed to be joining the fray, so it really wasn’t getting any easier. Before long, the magic he’d received from Chrysalis was gone, and he found that feeding them was beginning to physically drain him. His stomach growled, and he stumbled a little when he swooned unexpectedly. But the cacophony of hunger from the little changelings was relentless, and it somehow felt wrong to deny them sustenance.
He was beginning to have doubts about the whole thing, though. There were so many to feed!
But then Caramel sensed another source of power opening up. He focused on actual sight for a second and saw Thorax leaning down to several nymphs, green tendrils of magic flowing from his horn to theirs. The grumpy changeling caught him looking and shot him a ‘mind-your-own-business’ glare, and he went back to feeding his own cluster of nymphs.
I think I can see why Thorax was worried about coming here… Was the whole chamber supposed to spin like that?
* * * * *
A dull rumble roused Caramel from the darkness. Quarry eels, he remembered groggily. Those things lived deep below the hive, but their movements would occasionally send tremors further up. Sash had long ago assured him that they were nothing to worry about, though; Warrior Caste was always watching in the lower tunnels.
The next thing he realised was that he was lying on the ground with all four limbs splayed out, and he was weighed down by something spread all over his body. He yawned and squinted in the darkness—he was surrounded by changeling nymphs. Some had snuggled up to his sides whilst others had draped themselves over him like a living blanket. Most were asleep, but a couple were playing with the hairy portion of his tail, poking at it with their fore hooves and shape-shifting their short tails to mimic his.
Caramel yawned. In spite of apparently having fallen asleep, he didn’t feel all that well rested, and he badly wanted to stretch and work out the kinks in his joints. But he didn’t want to wake up the little changelings, either. Instead, he slowly shifted until he was lying in a more comfortable position. Some of the nymphs slipped off, but they only stirred and didn’t wake.
“I probably should have told you about not overextending yourself. You dug into your physical reserves to feed them, didn’t you?” somepony said nearby. Caramel turned his head in the direction of the voice and saw Tibia sitting several feet away, watching him like an owl. Thorax sprawled on the ground a little ways off, snoring softly. Caramel guessed that he’d also worn himself out. But unlike him, he wasn’t covered in nymphs, though.
He nodded in response to her question and winced at the jarring sensation in his horn.
Tibia smiled. “You did well, though. I’d expected you to quit long before it got to that. You’re pretty good with our children.”
“Umm, thanks.” He looked at the nymphs napping around him. “Why are they so… attached to me?”
“They can smell your emotions. I daresay some of the older ones have been snacking on you after you passed out.”
That was unsettling. He didn’t like the idea of being anypony’s ‘snack’.
Speaking of snacks…
He was ravenous. There was a crushing emptiness in his belly that was just begging to be filled. He licked his fangs. If only there was somepony nearby that he could—wait… He shook his head. Did I just think about feeding on somepony? That was… not a good sign.
Okay, calm down. You’re a pony. You’re a pony. You’re not a changeling. He needed to do something about it quickly.
“There any chance of getting something to eat here?” he asked.
“Hungry, eh? It usually happens when you use too much magic.” Tibia sighed. “Yes, the next ration comes in an hour, but don’t expect it to be the buffet I think you’re thinking of. The hive is barely sustaining itself, and this brood is far smaller than any of our previous ones.”
Caramel swept his gaze over the two dozen or so nymphs around him. “How many were in the others?”
“The best one I saw had nearly a hundred. But that was over fifty years ago.”
His jaw dropped. “That’s a lot.” He glanced around the chamber, taking note of the clusters of eggs everywhere. Some were already hatched, but a good many were still intact. “Are they all from Chrysalis alone?” he asked in disbelief.
“You’d be surprised how quickly she can pop them out once she develops her egg sac.” She mimed something large and tubular emerging from her side, just behind the ring of chitinous plates encircling her chest. “Tends to happen when the harvest is especially good. And they’re so big that she wouldn’t be able to move for months.” Tibia pointed to one of the gigantic husks suspended from the ceiling some distance away.
Caramel whistled. He could just imagine those things when they were fresh—huge, slimy and bloated, one end attached to the queen, and the other constantly squeezing out new eggs. “So, when are these supposed to hatch?”
“They need love to hatch; nothing’s going to happen until someone gives them enough. But after the disaster at Canterlot, Chrysalis is being quite conservative.” She sighed. “Even more so than before the attack. My sister has a lot to worry about these days.”
“Wait, Chrysalis isn’t your mother?”
“No.”
“Then why aren’t—”
Tibia held up a hoof. “Remember what I said about eggs needing love to hatch? We are both from Queen Gossamer’s brood, but hatched at different times. My egg wasn’t tended to until almost a hundred years after her succession—she’s way older than I. And that’s enough for me to consider her my queen. When Queen Gossamer died, Chrysalis, as her strongest daughter at that time, cast out any sibling who did not acknowledge her right to rule. At least, that’s what Chrysalis says—she’s the only one old enough to be around during that time.”
“That’s pretty harsh.”
“We have to be. Life down here is hard enough without having to deal with contested rule and civil war.”
“You know, you guys don’t have to live like this. Ever tried living like ponies on the surface?”
“Queen Gossamer thought the same. Trouble is, your ancestors were already in the greener lands, and not very keen to share the bounty. Those of us who tried to settle on the surface were eventually driven away. When the surface colonies failed, Gossamer tried to convince those harvesting love from stable relationships to reveal their true nature. It didn’t end well. One after another, relationships fell apart, but she continued to order them to do so in the hopes that one, just one pony might understand and take the first step in trusting our kind. We had a famine on our hooves after that—our crops simply weren’t enough to sustain the hive.”
“Nopony accepted you guys? Not even one?” It was hard to believe that every single pony had rejected his or her partner after finding out. Sure, finding that out about Sash had been a freaky experience for him, too, but chances are that there should’ve been somepony who had a softer heart, right?
“Actually, Chrysalis believes that there were some who did. The trouble was that some of our siblings couldn’t bear to lose the life that they had found; they cut themselves off from the hive and never came back.” She smiled at him. “So, although you’re probably not the first to accept us for who we are, you are the first in living memory to have come so far as to join us. It is quite inspiring.”
Me? Inspiring? Recipe for disaster if there ever was one.
Caramel shifted uncomfortably, searching for a different topic. “You’re one of the nicer guys I’ve met in here,” he suddenly commented.
“I used to be Hunter Caste; I fed on love for most of my younger life. It was part of my job to appear nice and caring.”
Hunter. The term itself suggested that changelings and ponies were not supposed to be friends. In spite of his apprehension, he was curious about her history. “What changed?”
“My mate died of old age. It was time for me to go.” Her tone was almost… indifferent. As if she was commenting on something as mundane as the weather.
Caramel narrowed his eyes. “Did you really love him?”
“Yes.”
He wasn’t convinced. “You sound like you don’t care anymore.”
Tibia looked away, ears drooping, and for a second Caramel almost felt sorry for his blunt remark. “That’s part of the problem; I can’t,” she murmured.
“What?”
“Changelings who fall in love don’t stay in love if their partner dies. It helps us to form new relationships without any… baggage. We can fall in love all over again, and it will feel as new and sincere as the first time. It’s just how we are.”
To forget the feeling of a relationship just like that… It seemed like a terrible thing to happen. He simply stared at her in disbelief. “That’s it? You guys won’t even remember what it was like to be in love?”
Tibia shook her head. “I know I loved him, but don’t feel it anymore. It’s like the difference between reading about someone in a book and actually being friends with them.”
She sighed when he didn’t reply. “I know it’s hard for ponies to understand, but I like to think that I may have taken a bit of your nonsensical sentiments to heart; to honour the memory of my mate, I have not partnered myself to anypony since. Queen Chrysalis wasn’t too happy about that, but I was lucky enough that my predecessor kicked the bucket just as I returned, so she reassigned me to Keeper Caste and gave me his job instead. In here, caring for the eggs and nymphs and teaching them our ways, I sometimes like to pretend that they are the children I could never have with my partner.”
That was a sobering thought. If anything had happened to him, would Sash have simply gotten over it, just like that? Well, he wouldn’t want her to be sad, of course, but he couldn’t help feeling guilty about not wanting their relationship to just disappear like that…
“I’ll leave you here for now—there are others who need my supervision,” Tibia announced as she rose to all fours. “Soon you will have to learn to care for the eggs as well as the nymphs, but for the time being, you can rest and keep your little brothers and sisters occupied.”
With the overseer gone, Caramel found himself the sole foalsitter of two dozen changeling nymphs. Well, Thorax was around, but he was still out cold.
He felt something stir by his side, and when he turned saw one of the nymphs yawning widely. He had to admit, they were kind of cute.
Over twenty new siblings—might as well get to know them. It was also a welcome distraction from the depressing way changelings could simply lose their feelings for their loved ones. He smiled at the nymph and said, “My name’s Caramel. What’s yours?”
The nymph tilted its head and frowned. A moment and a puff of green fire later, there was a miniaturised version of him standing in its place. “My name’s Caramel,” it said in a foal’s voice.
“Heh heh.” Cheeky fellow. Did I really look like that when I was younger?
* * * * *
About an hour later, Caramel was scratching lines and circles on the ground when Thorax finally woke up. The nymphs were pretty quick to pick up on how to play Tic Tac Toe, especially the older ones.
“Ugh, this is why I don’t like being here,” grumbled Thorax as he winced and rubbed his forehead. “They’re worse than parasprites.”
Caramel frowned. Granted, the nymphs were rather… voracious, but comparing them to the pestilent bugs seemed a bit extreme. Besides, pony foals probably weren’t much better. He’d heard horror stories of the screaming, hyperactive little bundles of terror from some of the mares in Ponyville.
“Don’t be mean. They’re just kids.” he said.
Thorax was unrepentant. “Hey, I fed them, didn’t I? I get to complain all I want.” He gestured to the nymphs. “Besides, they don’t care.”
Well, that much was true. “Yeah, thanks for helping out. Don’t know what would’ve happened to me if you didn’t.”
“You could be in a coma, for a start.”
Caramel froze, glanced at the nymphs, then stared at Thorax. “You’re kidding, right?”
“Tell that to the guy I sucked dry when I was their age. He only woke up about a week later.” The changeling grinned—he seemed rather proud of the accomplishment.
“Ookay…” Maybe this was a topic he shouldn’t get into. Instead, he returned his attention to the nymphs, most of whom were already awake.
I have brothers and sisters. With that thought came the realisation that it was a chance for him to show them that ponies weren’t supposed to be their enemies—or their prey. After all, Tibia had told him that there had been ponies who had accepted their changeling partners, friends or relatives, and some of the changelings in turn had even been willing to abandon their hive for the sake of their loved ones. Maybe he was being naïve and idealistic, but a chance was a chance—maybe there was a way to find peaceful coexistence, to bridge the chasm between their kinds.
Gosh, that sounds so cheesy.
He took a moment of silence to recall the details and piece the story together, before clearing his throat to get the attention of all the little changelings. As one they all turned to him, and he asked, “You guys ever heard of Hearth’s Warming Eve?”
Several of them chirped, “No.”
“That bedtime story? Are you serious?” asked Thorax with a raised eyebrow. “Maybe I shouldn’t have woken up so soon.”
“Will you be quiet if I promise not to sing it out?” he retorted.
Thorax subsided with a loud grumble.
With that settled, Caramel turned to his audience. It was a start; he’d make it count. Even if he didn’t succeed, maybe others would pick up where he left off.
Without harmony, there can be no peace…
He took a calming breath and began, “Well, once upon a time in the land of Equestria, before the peaceful rule of Princess Celestia and Princess Luna, there were three tribes of ponies living together…”
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firstfags denied.
Caramel is just brilliant in this one.
awesome chapter!
Very interesting to see a different perspective on changelings.....maybe caramel can be the bridge for a coexistance....
I'm like Spock. Every time I finish a chapter of this story, I can't help but think: "...Fascinating."
When Caramel started telling the story, the music from Rocky started playing in my head for some reason.
aaaand favorited. static1.fjcdn.com/comments/4432502+_b014f3ee0b4efa3209294d166d422999.jpg
I love the kids, Caramel may have found his purpose in the hive. With him potentially in a place where he could influence the next generation of changelings with his pony ideals and stories, I can't wait to see where this goes.
2135377 Yup. The world building in this story is so interesting.
Nice to see he is adapting to the lifestyle of the changelings. It's a shame it may be a while before he reaches full capacity though, as many of his abilities remain undeveloped. I wonder what the Queen has planned for his next task?
2135338 This.
2135183 your more cheeky then the nymph who impersonated caramel.
If only more of the nymphs had been awake, we could've had a Spartacus moment! Oh well, still an excellent chapter!
Caramel falling into the ice during Winter Wrap Up? You wouldn't have happened to have read a Caramel/Rainbow Dash fic (whose name escapes me at the moment) at some point, would you?
2136758 damn right.
Shouldn't there be a romance tag on this?
2135377
You and me both. This is quite the story.
I freaking love this story. I wonder if Caramel will get to see all the various castes in Changeling society? Also, only the next in line for ascension is given royal jelly when it comes to bees. Maybe Caramel's diet has some significance for the future. . .
2136992 Nope, I don't think I've come across that one.
2138947 I seem to remember that at one point, one of the mods had made a post about people putting too many tags on their stories. I decided to use only one because I was afraid it might not get past moderation.
2151519 that only happens when people put like, 8 tags on their story.
Other than that I like the way this is going. I am kinda tempted to think of him telling them of NightMare Night.
Looking forward to the rest of this story.
2135183 Do you even lift?
–Some had snuggled up to his sides whilst others had draped themselves over him like a living blanket. Most were asleep, but a couple were playing with the hairy portion of his tail, poking at it with their fore hooves and shape-shifting their short tails to mimic his.
Oh my goodness this is adorable.
–But unlike him, he wasn’t covered in nymphs, though.
Just thought I'd point this out: It's small, and not an error, per se, but it is repetitive.
This is a very intriguing development. Like 2135979 said, this may end up being Caramel's place in the hive. And if he somehow starts to bridge to gap between ponies and changelings, this could be simply epic. Not that it isn't already, of course.
2135183 ct.fra.bz/ol/fz/sw/i58/2/11/17/frabz-BITCH-PLEASE-754024.jpg
Your the only first-fag here.
I want to say the "mist" in his dreams is Luna, trying to reclaim him, so he doesn't go through with this ultimately foolish decision.
Huh. I may have to join Tommy Oliver in accepting this story as headcanon. Plus my personal grievances seem to be growing more rare as I go. I think.
I definitely like the story you're telling here.
5372326
That's actually an interesting idea. Though I'd be in disagreement with Luna. lol
http://i2.kym-cdn.com/photos/images/original/000/330/785/cea.gif
*clutches his chest, groaning in pain* Cuteling nymphs, hnnng, so adorable!
Huh, intrigued by the love thing. It makes sense for a species feeding on love. But I also think it's a good thing in general - you remember the good times you spent with your other half, but you're spared the soul crushing heartache.
Cya
Raziel-chan
this story HAd all the potential to be dark or weird, Instead it's Brillant sweet and adorable. I love it so far.
When I first read this I did not figure out that it was Luna in his dreams until I read a coment saying so and it blew my mind; now, however, I wish I had not read that and had discovered it myself. Also, I was thinking about regurgitating food to feed babies as I was making breakfast this morning and the image of Caramell regurgitating love for the nymphs popped in to my mind and made me giggle. That is all.
Beautiful story
Interesting. Is Luna attempting espionage and just happened upon him? Or have his dreams become unrecognizable as pony that she found it curious?