Crashing the Meeting
Queen Chrysalis continued to fly across the sky, screaming for what had seemed to be hours. She was currently wondering if she had orbited the planet, as she had seen the sun rise and set twice already. But at last, it seemed she was beginning to slow in her uncontrolled flight, as she was growing nearer to the ground with each passing second. At first she was relieved, as she had grown incredibly tired of aimlessly soaring through the clouds. But, as she began to descend, it suddenly occurred to her that she had built up a tremendous amount of momentum. Seconds after she realized that she would most likely be squished like the insect she was upon landing, the changeling began to scream far louder than she had ever screamed before.
However, much to her surprise and to the surprise of numerous physicists as well, Chrysalis did not die. Instead she proceeded to crash though the roof of what appeared to be an ancient castle that lay hidden deep inside of a vast wilderness. The world suddenly became much darker as Chrysalis fell past the rotting beams into the decaying architecture. Quickly following this was a loud crash, which was produced when the changeling landed headfirst onto an oak table, shattering it to bits.
Upon awaking, Chrysalis screamed. This was not because she had just dreamt about having her legs ground off with a cheese grater, as she usually did not remember her dreams, but it was because she saw several hideous faces hovering over her own, none of which looked happy. The changeling continued to scream until one of the creatures, something akin to an enormous, demonic centaur, had enough mind to clamp his horrid claws around her jaws.
“What manner of creature is this that dares to interrupt our meeting?” the centaur rumbled in a deep, intimidating voice.
“Why don’t you let go of her mouth and let her speak, genius?” hissed something that looked like a cloud of smoke with a thick pair of eyebrows. The centaur growled, sending a glare that would have killed if looks could. All the same, he released Chrysalis’s mouth from his terrible grasp. What came out of her lips afterwards was such a garbled mess of shrieks, screams, and hollers, that none present could understand her. Once again Chrysalis’s mouth was clamped shut, this time by a leathery, blood-red tentacle that belonged to a monstrous octopus-like creature that sat in a trough filled with water. He sneered at her, exposing countless rows of shark-like teeth.
“SHADDUP!” he roared, sending putrid slime all over the changeling. Chrysalis nodded, and shuddered felt the horrid tentacle slither away. She slowly sat up, looking at each of the creatures that surrounded her. The horned centaur glared at her from his towering height, his muscular arms crossed over a metal breastplate. Beside him was a stocky figure that appeared to be made out of molten rock, his broad form topped off with a hideous bearded head composed of oozing lava. A jagged crown made of black obsidian encircled his skull, indicating that he was a king of some sort. Adding to his regality was a thick, golden belt around his waist, each of its segments inlaid with beautiful gems.
“Well,” gurgled the lava-beast in a voice as deep as a mountain’s roots, “Speak up. What are you?”
“…I-I am Queen Chrysalis,” replied the nervous monarch, “Ruler of the Changelings!” The molten creature grinned, revealing a set of crooked teeth made of sizzling stone.
“A queen, you say?” he muttered as he stroked his fiery beard with his powerful hands, “A rather unorthodox entrance for a royal. Wouldn’t you agree, Tirek?” The centaur smirked, though such an expression seemed out of place on his monstrous face.
“Indeed,” he said, “Though I suppose it couldn’t be more unorthodox than Squirk’s.” A threatening growl came from the throat of the octopus-beast as the spiny fin on his head raised in annoyance.
“Watch it, air-breather,” he growled as he waved a glowing red gemstone in a menacing manner.
“Enough,” barked a raspy, grating voice from the shadows. Chrysalis turned around to see a gigantic goat sitting at the head of the table, standing twice the size of a pony. His body was covered in steely fur, and his black horns curled so that the points faced ahead. Around his neck was a large collar covered in tarnished brass plates, with a small iron bell hanging from the bottom. He gazed upon Chrysalis with a pair of burning red eyes, his muzzle drawn into a disapproving scowl.
“Oh, Grogar,” said the sentient cloud of smoke as he lazily swirled around the goat’s head, “Can’t we have a little fun with the queen before we kill her?” Upon hearing this, Chrysalis stiffened up. Sweat began to form on her brow as she donned a miserable grimace.
“We aren’t killing her, Arabus,” the goat snarled, “You’ve obviously never held anyone hostage before.” The cloud of smoke raised an eyebrow.
“And you have?” he asked. The goat glowered angrily as he replied.
“Yes,” he growled, “I’ve held entire nations hostage. Unlike you, I have actually accomplished something in my existence.” The cloud of smoke drew back, the crude, jagged holes that formed his face twisting into a look of mock hurt.
“Oh, forgive me for insinuating that I can even compare to you, the mighty conqueror who almost took over Equestria.”
The goat’s dark look became one of fierce rage as his horns began to crackle with what appeared to be lightning.
“You impudent idiot!” he sneered, “Do you really wish to spend another thousand years in your lamp?” The cloud of smoke backed away. Chrysalis saw traces of fear through the entity’s smirk as he took a seat next to the lava creature. The changeling looked back at the goat ,whose position at the table seemed to indicate that he was the leader.
“Who are you?” she asked, sound her best to sound unafraid. To say it failed miserably would be an understatement. The goat glared at her from the shadows that surrounded his face.
“The Almighty Grogar,” came the eerily calm reply, “Lord of Tambelon.” The word ‘Tambelon’ rung a bell in Chrysalis’s mind. She recalled hearing of it from an old servant when she was but a pupa. Tambelon was a place of darkness and despair, sometimes said to be worse than Tartarus. Worse than the hadean city was its dark master, said to be evil in the form of a goat.
“I…I see,” said Chrysalis, “I’ve heard of you…Am I in Tambelon, then?” The goat slowly shook his head, the iron bell somehow not ringing.
“This is Midnight Castle,” he murmured bitterly, “Its master sits to your right.” The changeling queen looked to see the centaur leering at her.
“And who are you?” muttered the insectiod equine. The centaur narrowed his eyes at her. They sparked with malevolent humor as Chrysalis flinched.
“Tirek,” he growled with a grin, exposing his prominent canine teeth, “Sorcerer of the Tartarus Mountains.” Chrysalis nodded with an air of uneasy respect, then turned to the lava creature. The molten being’s face lit up with a ragged smile, a ray of infernal light pouring from his maw.
“King Lavan of the Ignetites,” he said, “And, rightful owner of all things that come from beneath the earth.” He chuckled as he saw the confused look on the changeling’s face. Quicker than she could process, his arm reached out and extended fluidly towards her head. The thick fingers plucked her crown off of her cranium with surprising dexterity. Chrysalis’s brow knitted indignantly as the arm went flowing back to the brutish being, who looked at the crown as a jeweler would gaze at a gemstone.
“All the precious stones in the world belong to me and my people,” he explained as he tapped the dull emeralds that adorned the points of the queen’s crown, “And so does the metal that was used to forge the crown. So this little trinket of yours really belongs to me.”
Chrysalis was very angry at Lavan, but due to him being made out of lava, she wasn’t really sure if she could harm him without being burned to a crisp in retaliation. However, the jovial ruler flicked the crown back to the changeling, where it landed and hung on her crooked horn. Much to her annoyance, this unusual feat sparked a round of dark laughter from the imposing figures. The queen grumbled as she readjusted her crown back to its usual position before turning to the cloud of smoke.
It wasn’t only smoke. It appeared to be made up of dirt and sand as well; their particles swirling among the long, slender pillar of dark gray cinders. Two stretching arms hung from narrow shoulders, on top of which was a mass of smoke that formed a head. The face was primitive, with holes for the eyes and mouth, and a pair of eyebrows made of soot.
“Behold,” he wheezed in what sounded like the voice of someone who smoked an entire Marlboro factory, “For you now look upon Arabus, the Jinn of the Shadow Fire, and ruler of the Eastern Wastes!” He finished by sending out a cloud of flickering embers from his fingertips. Chrysalis backed away so as keep him from setting her mane alit.
“Knock it off, dust-brain,” came an angry gurgle from behind the changeling, “If anyone’s going to be showing off around here, it’s going to be me!” Chrysalis whirled around to see the hideous sea monster, his writhing tentacles rising up out of the trough. Chrysalis looked up at the creature with wide eyes, for he surpassed even Tirek in size, and his toothy maw took up a third of its body. In one of his countless tentacles he clutched a glowing red gem suspended from a golden chain.
“I’m Squirk,” snarled the mutant cephalopod, “King of the Hurricane Sea.” Chrysalis knew of the sea he spoke of, as it was famous for being the most treacherous body of water in the world. Truthfully, the mollusk did look fit to be the ruler of such a horrible place.
“And with that, we conclude our little introduction,” said Lavan, “Now then, my dear, would you care to tell us why you crashed our little get together?” Chrysalis stood for a moment, looking like a deer caught in a car’s headlights. It was quite obvious that the beings that surrounded her could overtake her without a moment’s thought, especially now that she was cut off of any source of love. Therefore, to say she had been beaten and thrown halfway across the world when a couple of newlywed yuppies joined together would make her seem like an idiotic weakling. It comes as no surprise, then, that she decided to embellish the truth.
“I have just arrived from a furious battle,” she said, trying to maintain an air of respectability, “I led my armies into an invasion of Canterlot.” This was a lie, as Chrysalis only had one army, and she had actually had one of her generals lead the actual seizing of the city while she was in the process of getting married.
“The city fell before our might within minutes,” she continued, “It was truly a glorious day. I even defeated Celestia herself in combat, and then struck down her sister. Their skulls now serve as my wine goblets.” Chrysalis actually had several crude designs of how she’d create drinking apparatuses out of an Alicorn skull, as their long horns made excellent stems.
“So why are you here instead of celebrating in Canterlot?” coughed Arabus. Chrysalis shot him a sneer instinctively, but the Jinn merely gave her a wicked grin in response.
“I was getting to that,” she growled, “Just as I was beginning to renovate the castle, six elite guards arrived with a battalion of Griffins and Minotaurs. My armies would have made short work of them had it not been for the magical weapons they wielded.” Again, this was a lie, as Chrysalis did not want to admit that most of her army had been beaten by her wedding planners, using nothing but their hooves and a cannon that fired confetti.
“I immediately went in to save my subjects, bravely fighting back until only the six elite guards remained standing. I was about to destroy them, but then two more arrived, each baring one half of an ancient weapon strong enough even to defeat me. They expelled my subjects and I from Canterlot, casting us out into the world.” Upon finishing her tale, Chrysalis sat back and looked smug. Her pride, however, weakened when she saw the cynical look given by her audience.
“Do you think that we’re stupid?” Tirek said flatly. Chrysalis frowned.
“Excuse me?” she asked, trying and failing to sound intimidating.
“Firstly,” said the dark centaur, “You would have to be some kind of idiot to actually kill the princesses without some kind of immense magic to keep the planet from crashing into the sun.”
“He’s right,” added Lavan, “As much as I would find the sun a pleasant place to vacation, you’d also have to find some way to keep the moon from crashing into the earth as well.” Chrysalis began to sweat as the other members of the party started to speak out.
“And Griffins and Minotaurs would never work together,” snickered Arabus, “Not after the War of 1242.”
“I think your story fails to hold water,” grumbled Squirk, “Much like this trough I’m forced to reside in.”
“It’s the best I could do on short notice,” mumbled Tirek.
“I…But I…” murmured Chrysalis as the five villains glared at her. She hadn’t expected them to be so insightful, as she believed herself to be a cunning liar. She actually was, but in this instance her pride made her say several things that upon retrospect sounded ridiculous.
“Don’t think you can fool us without repercussion,” rasped Grogar, “Just because we’re not going to kill you doesn’t mean we can’t make you wish you were dead.” Chrysalis stared with mortified eyes at the shadowy goat, who seemed to radiate a gothic, demonic aurora so powerful that she swore she heard a dark Gregorian chant somewhere in the background. The changeling gulped as she felt the rest of the villains glaring at her with as much intensity as Grogar.
“I…I…” Chrysalis desperately wanted to reveal the truth of her recent exploit, but the profound terror she was experiencing prevented her from doing so. Not since she was a larva had she felt so scared. Indeed, for the longer she looked at her captors, the more they seemed to resemble the boogeymen that haunted her childhood nightmares.
“Do you think she hit her head when she fell?” Tirek muttered to Arabus. The Jinn shrugged.
“I’m not sure,” he replied, “Perhaps her brain is full of holes too.” Upon hearing this insult, Chrysalis momentarily forgot her fears and whirled around to face the cloud of smoke.
“How dare you!” she cried incredulously, “If I were you, I wouldn’t say anything about brains! You don’t have one at all!” While this was technically true as Arabus was a spirit composed of smoke, the Jinn was enraged all the same.
“Why, you horrible little scarab!” snarled the cloud as he reached out for her, “I’ll-”
“You will do nothing,” said Grogar, his horns once again glowing, “If anyone shall punish her, it will be I.” Chrysalis was feeling a strange mixture of gratitude and horror as she turned to face the scowling goat. She was suddenly blinded as a bolt of bright energy fired from the creature’s horns. Chrysalis found herself looking into a place too horrible to be put into words, a dark void filled with unspeakable evil and monstrosities so hideous that their appearances were maddening.
“What did you do to her?” asked Lavan, as he watched the changeling lie on the ruined table, stiff as a board. Grogar was stroking his beard, as if in deep thought.
“I’m looking into her brain,” he replied, “…Hm…” A sudden smile appeared on his face, which somehow seemed worse than his scowl. “You’re not going to believe this…”
“What?” asked Tirek. Grogar proceeded to explain how Chrysalis actually met her defeat at Canterlot. Once he and his comrades stopped laughing half an hour later, Grogar went back into meditation. Another fifteen minutes passed before he smiled again.
“Interesting…” he murmured, “Its seems that while in our absence, two others have tried to overthrow the princesses.”
“Who might they be?” asked Squirk.
“Discord and Nightmare Moon,” replied the necromancer goat.
“Never heard of them,” said Arabus, “Are they dangerous?” Grogar chuckled, and an ominous bolt of lightning struck outside of the castle.
“Of course not,” he said, “In fact, I’d dare say they’re just as pathetic as she is.” A flash of fire suddenly appeared in Arabus’s hollow eyes.
“Gents,” he said, “I’ve just had an idea.”