Ch 1: A Meeting of Chance
Ceras couldn't get rid of the ringing inside of her head. The last thing she could remember was being hit with a wave of energy and being flung far from Canterlot, her brothers and sisters going out in different directions. She pushed herself to her hooves, only to have the world swim before her eyes as she fell once more. She looked down at her body and saw an eight inch shard of wood sticking between the plates of her chitin, blood seeping from its edges. She groaned in pain as she let her head fall to the ground once more. She tried to connect to the hive-mind to see if any other changelings were in the area, but all she could hear… was silence. Not a single changeling responded to her calls, nor did any call out for help. It was just… quiet.
Ceras could only assume that it was night out by the fact that she could barely see two feet in front of her. She was lying in a pool of water, what might otherwise be referred to as a fountain. The shard of wood had apparently come from a sign she had smashed through on her way down and the injury was now turning the water red with her blood. She placed a hoof on the edge of the fountain and managed to pull herself up enough to collapse in pain on the ground outside of the fountain. Her long pink mane was practically red after being soaked in the bloody water for so long and was stuck to her muzzle causing her to spit pieces of hair out of her mouth. Her gossamer wings were too wet to fly and buzzed helplessly, trying to dry themselves. She forced herself to her feet, ignoring the surge of pain as the shard of wood shifted in her side. She knew she was still losing blood; she could see it spilling across the ground as she walked, not really caring where she was going.
Her vision was growing hazy and she was having trouble keeping her balance. She stumbled multiple times but always managed to get back up, despite her ravaged body’s protests. She couldn't help but notice that she was limping in her right front leg, indicating that it was broken. She doubted that she would ever walk right again. She could feel tears flowing down her face, combining with the blood that was already there. She was in so much pain, such terrible pain that she was having a hard time thinking straight. She stopped once and vomited blood, feeling something inside of her throb painfully. So she had internal injuries; perfect, just perfect. Ceras realized she was walking towards a large tree of some sort. She didn’t care, as long as the pain ended quickly.
She tried to knock on the door, but only ended up hitting her head on it as she fell, producing a loud thunk that echoed throughout the tree. Her body was growing cold now and she swore she heard her heart stop beating once before weakly starting again. She heard the door open and looked to see two purple eyes staring down at her. Ceras was a little ashamed when she noticed her blood staining the pony’s door. “That’s not going to come out very easily.” thought Ceras, her mind groggy from blood loss, not caring that the mare was looking down at her with angry eyes. Then, before she could stop herself, she coughed, spitting up blood once more. The resulting mess pooled around the mares feet and she reared back, a panicked look now in her eyes. Ceras saw the unicorns face and realized that she looked hauntingly familiar, although she couldn't place where she knew that face from. The mare then turned and yelled back into the tree before turning back to Ceras, her eyes filled with a wary concern. A purple aura enveloped the wounded changeling and she cried out as the wooden shard twisted in her wound. The world was spinning again, only this time it was filling with red. The blood leaking from her mouth was flowing into her eyes, making it hard to see.
She had realized upon seeing the pony that asking for a ponies help was considered great weakness by the changeling hive, but at the moment she didn’t care. Besides, with Chrysalis dead, what hive was there left to think about. She saw the inside of the tree as she was carried inside, her blood creating a pattern of red on the wooden floors and thought how strange it was that there were books lining the walls. Most of the feeling was gone from her body, so she only vaguely recognized the pain as the shard was pulled out of her, letting the blood spill out once more, only this time in greater quantity and then she felt something soft being pressed against the wound, though it did little to stop the flow of blood.
The mare was looking back down at her and Ceras felt something wet hit her cheek. She saw tears falling from the mare’s eyes, though for what, Ceras could not entirely tell. They couldn't possibly be for her. No pony would ever cry for a changeling, not even a wounded changeling on the brink of death. She could feel the sorrow and fear emanating from the pony, her emotions so powerful that they were almost painful to Ceras. She looked once more up into the mares wide purple eyes, registering the unbridled fear that pulsed there. But not fear OF her, but fear FOR her. She did not understand and couldn't understand the pony’s emotions. Although, had she been given a choice, she would have liked to try and understand what caused this sudden change of emotion in such an emotional being. The pony was now thumping her hooves on Ceras’s chest, trying to restart her stopped heart. Ceras looked past her and saw a small purple dragon, watching the pony try to save Ceras’s life, his own eyes filled with the same kind of fear as with the pony.
Colors were flashing in front of Ceras’s eyes, too fast to be followed. Her breathing was coming quickly now, it’s speed equal with that of her racing heart, which barely had the fluids required to pump any longer. The cold was leeching the heat from her body and if she had been able, she would have said something, anything, to make the pony stop her crying and to make her cease her futile attempts at saving Ceras’s life. She did not deserve this pony’s sympathy. She did not deserve her kindness and care. This pony’s eyes alone were filled with more emotion than Ceras had ever experienced in the changeling hive. She wanted to understand this pony, and a single tear slid down Ceras’s cheek at the loss of such an opportunity. She had little breath in her lungs now, as they had stopped working mere minutes ago, but she felt that the words she had in her mind had to be said, despite their possible worthlessness to the pony, though she was sure the pony would hold them to heart. So, closing her eyes in resignation, Ceras whispered the words that she so desperately needed to say. “Thank you.” was all she could manage before her heart stopped.
Her eyes had already closed, so she did not see the purple glow accumulating at the tip of the pony’s horn, its magic filled with a powerful and heartfelt intent. Ceras was ready. She had settled her dues and said all meaningful goodbyes. So she waited for death’s cold grip, but it was not death that came to her in those last moments, but something else, something that would spark a new beginning for the broken changeling. It was life.