Love Lost

by Eeveexpert

5 - Homecoming Queen

All centurions, regardless of their hive of origin, are trained to ignore any fear, no matter what the situation. To feel fear is to show weakness to the enemy and ensure your own defeat. Yet, there is no amount of training that can surpass raw instinct. Sylph was afraid. The moon had chosen tonight to renew itself and the forest floor was completely black. Sylph spun in place, following every glowing green eye or wooden growl that passed his senses. The number of these creatures remained unknown to him. He only knew what they were hunting and that they were growing agitated. He knew the eyes would be coming for him soon and still he cried out in fear when they leapt for him.

The centurion awoke with a start, flying upright as if a spring had been placed under his head. He felt his chest rising and falling with frightened breaths. Discipline was quick to remove the instinct-planted fear from his mind, allowing the return of rational thinking. Sylph looked down to where he knew his hooves to be, only to see them replaced with the blocky paws of his timberwolf predator. Her Majesty must have placed this spell upon me. Only extreme circumstances would have called for him to be disguised in such a manner. It would be foolish for him to break the spell now.

He sat in a small divot pressed into the springy forest floor that had been coated with a layer of cushioning nectar. "Your Majesty?" Her pheromones lay thick upon the sticky green substance; she was nearby. Sylph took a step forward to begin searching, but before his disguised hoof even met the ground, a set of razor-sharp claws dug into his stomach. His legs buckled, pulling him back to the ground. When the claws had loosened enough to allow him to open his eyes once more, he found himself staring directly at the nectar surrounding him. In the back of his mind, he heard his queen's words. Replenish your strength... The voice within his head needn't have instructed him to feed. His hunger was the only order he required. Sylph began lapping at the delicious nectar, feeling his strength return little by little.

The taste was maddeningly sweet to the starving changeling. It took a great amount of self-control to not devour every last drop of the provided nectar. As much as his mind wanted him to devour every single bit, his queen's location remained unknown to him; loyalty bade him find her.

The grunts and creaks of the Everfree forest disconcerted the lone changeling. To fly would have made his search far easier, but his meal had not yet returned enough of his strength to allow that as an option, nor did he want to break his disguise at the moment. To be resigned to the forest floor was not without its benefits, though. The warm, comforting scent of his mother's pheromones wafted strong against his senses. She had not moved far, nor with any great speed. When her pheromones could not get any stronger, the foliage parted ways to reveal his sought after queen. Only now did he choose to dispel his provided illusion.

Chrysalis sat at the base of a tree, head bowed. The arrival of her centurion spurred no response.

"Forgive my unannounced approach, your Majesty, but...is there something the matter?"

At the sound of her centurion, the queen's head came up to glance at the smaller changeling. "Greetings, Sylph... I trust that you were wise enough to feed on what I had provided for you, yes?"

Sylph hesitated in answering. There was something off in the way his queen spoke. "I did indeed. What troubles you, my queen?"

Sylph could not see it from his angle, but his queen returned her gaze to the mound of freshly disturbed earth before her. "I-it is nothing. I...had merely forgotten how it felt to be able to properly mourn the passing of one of my children. It is nothing you should concern yourself with, my child."

"Passing?" the centurion repeated. "Your Majesty, what-" Instead of answering, Chrysalis silently rose from the makeshift grave and swept past Sylph, leaving him confused. He took his queen's place at the small mound. A bitter scent burned the roof of his mouth. Fear pheromones... Vetan was being pursued at the time of his death... Below that, floating upon the edge of detection, another scent lingered. One that birthed many more questions. The changeling turned to follow his queen; he needed some answers, especially for what was about to happen. He nearly jumped out of his armor at the heavy explosion that shattered the still morning air.

"Damn you, Miasma! Damn you to Tartarus!"

Miasma!? The mention of that name combined with the sound of that blast lent a burst of energy to Sylph's wings. "Your Majesty!" Trees rushed past him as the centurion rushed to the aid of his queen. His imagination painted several different pictures of what would greet him upon arrival. The pheromones of his queen again reached his nose, but this time they were more sour, more volatile. Sylph arrived just in time to witness his queen's furious hoof break a tree in two with no more effort than was needed to snap a twig.

"Damn it!"

A wayward chunk of splintered lumber forced Sylph to dive for cover. He jumped back out from his shelter, expecting to see two changeling queens locked in mortal combat. What he found was his queen standing over a mutilated tree, rage forcing her breaths long and heavy. He could sense no other queens; none in sight, nor in pheromone. Sylph was even more bewildered than he had been. Questions dribbled from his mouth like water. "Your Majesty! What was that blast? Where is Miasma? Are you all right?"

"I am, my child." Chrysalis' wings twitched with the remnants of her subsiding anger. "My composure deserted me for a moment. Forgive me if I worried you."

"I am merely relieved to see you unharmed, my queen. I do not believe you are yet recovered enough for a battle with Miasma. You are st-"

"Do not assume my limits, Sylph." the queen hissed. "Miasma is a coward; she would not face me in solitary combat. She would be more content to sit within my hive, ordering my children about against their will."

"Was it Miasma that sent Vetan into the forest alone?"

"Absolutely. Her reek lay heavy upon his body. Even now, she defiles my hive with her filth."

"What would you have us do then, my queen?" The pangs of hunger pulsing from Sylph's shrunken stomach had him flinching at regular intervals, but he was more than prepared to follow his queen against the impurity that was Miasma..

"I would march to the hive, bury my horn into Miasma's throat and watch as her last putrid breath gurgled from her dying body."

"Very well. Let us march then!"

Chrysalis hardened her eyes. "I may be without my hive, Sylph, but that has not removed my authority. We march nowhere until I deem it. You do not decide when we move."

"O-of course..." Sylph turned back to his queen, his spirit for action thoroughly quashed. His head remained bowed, avoiding the piercing eyes of his queen.

Chrysalis gave a short bark, commanding her child's attention. "Sylph! Eyes up!" When he at last did so, she continued, her own eyes and tone softening slightly as she went. "Your desire to tear yet another hole into Miasma's already well-ventilated visage is much appreciated, but you are hardly of proper condition to engage in such behavior."

"Your Majesty, I-"

"Enough. I will not see you collapse dead from hunger if I can prevent it. I have already mourned Vetan's passing and my heart is heavy. I do not wish to mourn your passing so soon after."

Sylph cocked his head to the side, hoping this would let him better see this new side of his queen. "Forgive my ignorance, your Majesty, but why would you take the time to mourn Vetan's passing? He was a good soldier, to be sure, but why do you feel the need to do so?"

Chrysalis locked eyes with her child, but her gaze was not one of anger. Rather, her emerald eyes were almost contemplative. "It...is not something I'd ever ask you to understand, Sylph..."

"Indulge my curiosity, your Majesty." he insisted.

A long sigh slipped through the fangs of the changeling queen. "If you insist... No doubt you remember the famine that befell the hive last year?"

"All too well... We lost many fine soldiers during that time."

"And that, my dear Sylph, is what I could never expect you to understand. The changelings that we lost during that time were fine soldiers indeed, but you viewed them in no other way. You did not see them as I did. Each and every one of them was one of my children. Let me pause to ask you this. You know that I love you dearly, correct?"

"Yes, you do. Very much so."

"Those soldiers we lost... I loved them in the same way. And...I could do nothing but watch them die!" Hundreds of deaths worth of suppressed anger and sadness burned a furious green flame in the eyes of the changeling queen. "Do you know what it feels like to helplessly watch hundreds of your own children die!? How much it hurts!? What kind of pain it leaves you with!?"

Sylph shook off his newfound shock and stared at his queen uncomfortably. There was no possible way he could answer her question truthfully, though he was beginning to understand the pain she was feeling. "I-I do not. I...apologize for bringing it up."

Hot tears leaked from under Chrysalis' tightly closed eyes. "Do not harbor regret in asking, Sylph. It is not your fault, nor is it your burden to carry. It is something that I have held inside for much too long."

The proverbial ice upon which Sylph had set his hooves was dangerously thin, but such danger invites its own testing. "For what reason, your Majesty?"

It was some time before the changeling queen answered. "For selfish reasons, I suppose. How many of the hive would call the time given to mourn passings as weakness? How many would see it as a reason to question my rule? To disrespect me?"

"I cannot rightly say that I am familiar with the practice of 'mourning', or the reasons why you would see fit to do so, but for what it's worth, I would hardly see that as an adequate reason to invalidate your position. You are my queen and you shall always have my respect."

"And that, my dear Sylph, is why you were chosen above all else to act as my centurion. Your loyalty is admirable. I would not want any other at my side when we return to the hive to confront the scum that is Miasma."

Sylph rose from his bow into a proud salute. "I am at your beck and call, my queen."

"Excellent. As satisfying as it would be to rip Miasma's throat from her body at this moment, I will not endanger you in such a manner. We move to the hive with tomorrow's sunrise. Take the time before you to rest and recuperate your strength." Chrysalis saw Sylph's loyalty take hold of his tongue to voice another protest. "You will not sway me on this, Sylph. Rest. That is an order and I suggest you follow it. You may start by feeding upon the nectar I laid down for you."

"As you wish, your Majesty."

"After you have consumed your fill, I want you to sleep. Do not trouble yourself with my well-being. Focus on your own health. It would do you well to think of your own needs from time to time. Should you find yourself in danger, you may signal for me with two barks from a timberwolf's mouth."

No other words were spoken between Sylph and his queen. A nod was all he gave before moving off to carry out his orders.

Silent as a summer breeze, Queen Chrysalis glided back to the crude mound that was Vetan's grave. She stared at the disturbed earth in silent contemplation. At length, the changeling touched a hoof to the pile. "I am sorry, my child..." she murmured. "I am sorry that Miasma chose you to deliver such a message to me. That swine has sealed her fate with such a decision. I will see your death paid for in full."

-------------------------

Sylph's intense hunger had easily consumed his earlier meal and he fell upon the nectar with a ravenous zeal. With every mouthful he swallowed, the centurion became more and more disgusted with himself. To eat in a manner so messy as to even be compared to the filthy Miasma changelings infuriated him. Yet, he could not help himself. Instinct from hunger continued to force his manners aside and the nectar down his throat.

Sylph was so consumed with the delicious scent of his meal that he failed to notice the hostile pheromones aproaching him.

"Enjoying your slop, Sylph?"

The familiar voice set light to a reaction long steeped in instinct. Sylph's mouth curled itself into a snarl. "Arnyx..." He rose from his meal and turned to meet the smug purple eyes of Miasma's centurion. "You get one reason to justify your trespassing before I tear more holes in your face than your harlot of a mother..."

"One reason?" Arnyx parroted. "Generous as always, I see. But, I'll do you one better. How about three reasons?"

An unspoken stalemate had arisen between the two centurions; they paced in a slow circle, neither one daring to break eye contact. "Be prudent with your words, Arnyx. My temper is short and my fangs thirsty."

"Save it." he hissed. "You know, Sylph, there was a point at which I respected you."

"Respected me?"

"Of course. Centurion to the most powerful hive in Equestria? What changeling in their right mind wouldn't want that? And yet... Here you are, mewling over your mother's nectar like the pathetic nymph you truly are. How the mighty have fallen... Your threats are nothing more than the fumes from a decaying husk."

"There would be none better suited to know of their stenches than the lowly spawn from Miasma's poor excuse of a hive."

Children enjoy taking after their mother and Arnyx's inherited temper played right into Sylph's clever words. The Miasma changeling broke the standoff with a lunge faster than an uncoiling viper. "Choke on your insolent tongue, pretentious worm!"

There is a reason that the title of centurion is not something freely given out. It must be earned and Sylph most definitely had. He was tired and hungry, but the changeling's instinct for battle was still sharp as a midwinter's gale. He had seen the flaw in Arnyx's charge the instant he left the ground. A quick step to the right removed Sylph from his opponent's path. In one blink of an eye, he shot a paralysis spell into Arnyx's extended wing.

Flight with only a single wing produces but one result. Arnyx leapt back to his hooves, a clod of topsoil dangling from his furious snarl. "Choke on that mud. I imagine it's far cleaner than the scum you suck from your mother's revolting hooves." Sylph shot back.

"Well played, Sylph. Using my temper to provoke me into the first move. I see you have not lost your cunning. I am impressed."

"And I see you have not lost your simple mind. That was but a mere trick. Even the most inexperienced changeling from my hive could have seen through my tactic."

"Is that so? I think we ought to get some second opinions on that." Arnyx's one usable wing thrummed out an angry signal. A signal that summoned six pairs of eyes in the dark forest behind him; eyes identical to Sylph's.

The Chrysalis centurion froze at the sight. "My soldiers! Explain yourself, Arnyx!"

"I would love to take the time to rub your nose in your defeat, but Queen Miasma has made our orders very clear."

There are subtle differences in given signals between changeling hives, but the half dozen changelings advancing upon Sylph gave him a good idea of what Arnyx's had meant. Instinct forced the centurion's hooves into a slow retreat. He could not bring himself to inflict harm upon his brothers. "Stand down, soldiers!" Sylph snapped. Their unwavering advance and dark intent in their pupilless eyes suggested this same restraint was the last thing on their minds.

"We no longer affiliate ourselves with Chrysalis or her loyalists..."

Sylph had but one option and it had just disappeared. Born from magic, two short barks ripped from his throat.

"Your signals are pointless, Sylph. There are no changelings that would choose to protect you. You are alone."

"And you have grown far more arrogant since last you trespassed in my territory, Arnyx..." An arcane explosion lit itself under the hooves of the Miasma centurion, throwing him sidelong into a tree trunk. As he dropped back to the ground, the half-dozen changelings antagonizing Sylph turned their snarls upon the newly arrived changeling queen. "Silence! I will not have my children squabble amongst themselves like so many parasprites!"

"Begone, hag! The hive no longer takes orders from you!"

"Madness! What charm has Miasma placed you under?"

Arnyx's sibilant laugh rose to the queen's ears. "Charm? The only charm in place is the charm of respect. You have chosen to forfeit-"

A bolt of pure concussive force lashed from the magic glow behind Chrysalis' eyes, blasting Arnyx into the air a second time. "The only thing that shall be forfeit here is your life, should you continue with your prattling, Arnyx." The queen's piercing glare returned to her children. "You surround the wrong centurion, my children. Sylph has done nothing to garner your distrust. Not when Arnyx so boldly trespasses within our territory!"

"It is not what he has done or not done. Rather, it is your actions that have condemned him to death."

Arnyx was just as stubborn as his mother and through much struggling, he had found his way back to his hooves. "Stand down, soldier. As much as I would relish to see Sylph's head roll before me, you forget our orders should we happen upon Chrysalis. We return to the hive."

"And as much as I would desire to see your head liberated from your neck, Arnyx, I shall suppress my urge until I have the opportunity to place it before your mother."

Chrysalis made a point to stride before Arnyx during the journey. She would have sooner resigned herself to permanently sheltering in a timberwolf den than have an enemy centurion lead her back to her hive. Sylph walked before her, as a precaution against the animosity from his hivemates. Under no circumstances would she be the one to bring harm to her own children. It would be...difficult to dissolve an altercation between them.

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Gradually, the already scarce light seeping through the thick canopy of the forest grew even darker. What light did make it through carried a strong green tinge from the identically-colored nectar strung between the branches. The same nectar coated much of the ground and many of the tree trunks, creating a makeshift tunnel. The scents of hundreds of different pheromones fell upon the queen's nostrils. One in particular fought doggedly to break the restraints keeping her rage in check. Her steps grew faster and angrier with each stride.

The slightly descending tunnel opened into a dim hollow devoid of any green plant life. A gritty mix of rocks and dead plants, glued together with sticky nectar hung from bare branches to create serviceable, if sloppily constructed chambers. The center of this hollow was dominated by the shell of what was once a great tree. A crude balcony hewn halfway up the trunk served as a position of power and surveillance for the acting queen. All in the hive was as it should have been, except that the queen upon this balcony was not Chrysalis.

"Well, well, well... Look what the timberwolf has dragged in..."

Author's Note:

Between Borderlands, overnight shifts, Assassin's Creed, and more Borderlands, I managed to find the time to pull this chapter out. Hope you all enjoy it, Apologies to those who were expecting to see some big scrap between Chryssy and Miasma, because I know there were a few of you.

You'll get it next chapter, no worries.

As always, pre-readings provided by Spiritofthwwolf.

Comments

[th3l0stch1ld]

still very interesting. love how this is turning out!