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// 23. Underestimated 
// Story: The Halfling 
// by Scarheart 
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Edited by TuxOKC.


The day had passed. It was eventful, considering Zeala was now imprisoned. Word of her treachery confirmed by Queen Chrysanthemum spread like wildfire. The queen had done little to nothing in hiding her presence. Zeala’s reputation would soon be in shambles and there was talk of suspending the sanctuary laws and going into the changeling temple. There would be outrage, as to be expected, from the changeling residents of the Crystal Empire. Princess Mi Amore Cadenza did not want that. The castle was abuzz. The aftermath of the sudden appearance of the queen was filled with rumors. She had a unicorn accomplice that teleported her in. There was a traitor within the castle’s staff. The guards were on the take. Prince Reign Cloud had called in his birth mother. Maggie was a master changeling infiltrator.

The day was spent quelling those rumors with a firm hoof. Cadence was at her wit’s end, though her outward Princess appearance was an unwavering show of conviction and stoicism. Her smile was replaced by the look of a mare that would broker no nonsense or outrageous claims. If a pony claimed something like one of the rumors heard, the alicorn confronted that pony and demanded proof of those claims. Rumors were crushed as quickly as they appeared, though word was still going to get out. It was a losing effort in the end, but the princess had to try. There was going to have to be an official statement to the press. Canterlot was notified, of course. Celestia and Luna would need to know what had happened. The ripples from the appearance of a potentially hostile changeling queen in the heart of a peaceful nation would resonate.

The sisters expected to be in the Empire by morning, as stated in their reply letter.

Lunch was all but forgotten in the chaos. Reign Cloud and Maggie were left alone. The colt needed rest and the nymph refused to leave his side, even after repeated pleas from her mother. Wilda gave up, shaking her head and feeling proud of her daughter’s show of loyalty. She had other reasons to show pride; the Royal Family had listened to her, showing the years of trust and friendship having borne fruit.

More important was their friendship had passed a critical test.

Evening came and the sun soon settled beneath the horizon. Dinner was a quiet, reserved affair between Shining Armor and his wife. He picked at his food, still troubled from his encounter with Chrysanthemum. A lot of bad memories had cropped up and he was having trouble dealing with it. As a result, his plate was more picked at than eaten. His wife understood his troubles all too well. Her food vanished from her plate, as she felt more ravenous than a parasprite in a corn field.

Cadence made a mental note to pay a visit to her doctor as soon as everything blew over.

A servant arrived, delivering a note with a request from Wilda to have a talk. The princess agreed and responded with a time and place. Wilda knew the castle well enough to know where. Dragging her moody husband, Cadence went off to meet with her friend, making a request for tea to be delivered.

In one of the many rooms of the castle, three prominent individuals ruminated on their encounter with Queen Chrysanthemum. Cadence and Shining Armor sat at a small round table. Wilda sat across from them, tending to Zinnia. A large cushion had been brought in for her so she could tend to her daughter. The expressions on the faces of the ponies were grave and troubled. Wilda kept her eyes on her daughter. She was holding a hoof over the nymph and letting her grasp and gnaw on it. An untouched tray of tea was on the table, having just been brought in.

“I am glad you took my advice in dealing with the Queen,” Wilda began. The silence had been awkward and a lot of it had to do with a stallion’s wounded pride. Cadence’s aftermath from Queen Chrysanthemum was close to mourning the death of a family member. “She was coming in looking to provoke you. You showed remarkable restraint, Consort Armor,” Wilda addressed the stallion with an appreciative nod. “No doubt she will be rethinking your stance towards her.”

She could feel the frustration from both frazzled parents, whom she had coached over the years on how to deal with changeling queens. Especially her former queen, to whom she admitted without shame an unwavering admiration for. Wilda was blunt, as always, and did not sugar coat her words in explaining to the ponies how changelings think. Calling them backwards in the use of their emotions was a bit unsettling, but she trusted her friendship with Cadence was more than strong enough to look past the cultural differences. Shining Armor tended to go along with whatever his wife felt. Wilda exposed her opinion of this, going so far as to point out this is what attracted Queen Chrysanthemum to him. He was the perfect consort and one any queen worth her weight in love would want in the father of their nymphs.

This made the unicorn feel a bit uncomfortable. It had been explained to him before, but now it was finally sinking in after all these years.

“She still laid claim to my son,” interjected Cadence, blinking as she watched Zinnia hiss with mock ferocity at her mother’s hoof. Her eyes came up and locked with steeled determination. “She can’t have him, Wilda. You know this.”

Reign Cloud was sleeping in his room with Maggie napping with him. She had refused to leave him, promising to protect the colt. There were triple the usual wards around his room and two guards stood outside his door.

Cadence poured the tea, serving her changeling friend first. “I was frightened, Wilda. I was so very frightened Chrysali—Chrysanthemum strode through my castle as though she owned the place.” She shook her head, holding the teapot aloft in her magic after she poured. After her hesitation, she filled a cup and hoofed it over to her husband. He quaffed it in a swift motion. “I’ve notified Canterlot. Aunt Celestia and Aunt Luna need to know our detection spells are not working. New measures have to be put in place. We should have known if she was here! How did she get past our defenses? Our wards were the latest!”

Wilda sipped her tea, her expression thoughtful. “Detecting a changeling that specializes in blending in with her environment is a near impossible task. Not all of our kind are as gifted as Queen Chrysanthemum. Her power is equal to that of an alicorn’s, if she’s at her peak. I warned you. We’ve discussed this before. This is why I urged caution and to let her have her game. She is probing you, searching for weakness. By creating a weakness that is not there, she could make a mistake. For the sake of her son, she would not do violence around him. Out of respect for you being a surrogate to her son, she stayed her killing magic. You had to let her have this show of dominance, if to put her at ease. Changeling mothers do use surrogates. They are almost always broodmares.” Wilda arched a brow and gave a lazy flick of one of her long, mulish ears. “You are an exception to the rule.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” interrupted Shining as he set his cup down. His ears were splayed out and he appeared frazzled, “How does showing subordination to her make us look like good parents in her eyes? I could have taken her, put her in a containment sphere, and charged her with attempted foalnapping with intent to do harm.” 

Cadence gave him an incredulous look before shaking her head, “That would be like trying to take down either of my aunts, Shiny. Your shield spell might have worked, but the trick would be putting her in a position to be able to use your magic.”

Shining Armor glared at his wife, then gave out a little frustrated sigh.

“She would have fought you, unleashing her might with restraint only for her son.” Wilda took another sip of tea and winced at Shining, “You needed to make sure she felt there was no need to lash out. I appreciate you held yourself in check. You are a formidable warrior, Prince Consort, but the Queen was in no mood for a battle. She wanted to see her son, to touch him, and give him her love. Her magic is powerful, very powerful. I do not think Reign Cloud’s health will be a serious issue for at least a little while longer.” Wilda buzzed her wings and flicked her tail. “Zeala has much to answer for. Queen Chrysanthemum exposed her, but this dark magic...It is beyond my knowledge, Cadence. I’m sorry, but I never dabbled too much into the higher magics. I’m just a Broodmother.” She gave her friend an apologetic smile.

Cadence returned the smile, then sighed as she rubbed her temples with a hoof. “Dark magic. Sombra’s influence on Zeala must be strong. Very strong. How is it we never noticed the connections before?”

“Dark magic,” Shining began, hesitating and letting his words slip out with careful slowness, “dark magic can be used in persuasion spells. I think,” he blinked, wrinkled his muzzle and sighed, “ah, dark magic can be undetected if it is masked. Not all magic is understood by us. I was only given enough knowledge in dark magic so I could counter it, but this is old stuff. It might even predate the Princesses. Twilight might know more about this branch of magic. I’m good, but she’s a master.”

“Her knowledge isn’t as good as Celestia’s or Luna’s. Starlight Glimmer dabbled in a lot of dark magic,” Cadence said.

“Oh, yeah,” Shining Armor grunted, “Twilight’s former student. I remember her mentioning her not too long ago. Something about finding her controlling an entire town some time back. She was considered a terrorist until she went straight. I read the reports. I knew she had used forbidden magic, even abusing it to the point of stealing Cutie Marks. I wasn’t going to grant her permission to step hoof in the Crystal Empire until Twily vouched for her. I sometimes wonder if our society is at times too forgiving.”

“You are herd animals,” Wilda told him, arching her brow, “you ponies can’t stand one of your own straying from the path the rest of the herd follows. Those that stray from your path are almost always encouraged to come back and be a part of the whole. It makes it easy for you to protect those who would be weaker by themselves.”

Cadence laughed despite herself. “I suppose you’re right. We are a forgiving society, if a bit wary and cautious.”

“It is a strength of your kind. I envy it,” Wilda admitted. “The tea is good.” She took a dainty sip. “What do you intend to do with High Priestess Zeala? Her position makes it difficult to convince the changelings in the city to believe she is a threat to all.”

“She can stew in her cell until the Princesses get here,” growled Shining, gritting his teeth. “I want to know what she was planning to do to my son.”

Cadence huffed, “Our son, Shiny. So would I, dear. So would I.”





High Priestess Zeala fumed. A prisoner in a cell deep within the depths of the Crystal Castle, she paced her small confinemnents. Muttering under her breath, her eyes were wide and always darted to the heavy iron bars of her cell door. A single crystal glowed in the hall that she could see, bathing her cell in a dim light. King Sombra had always wanted his prisoners to feel despair in his dungeons. Cadence had yet to address upgrades her husband had proposed.

Zeala paced from the shadows, through the dim light and into the shadows on the other side. She turned and paced back. Back and forth, back and forth. The cell was small, a box measuring just over two pony lengths from wall to wall. A tiny cell door of iron bars, barely large enough to squeeze through was the only addition to the bleak cell.

Everything was ruined and because of her.

She still had her assassin. Zeala blinked, stopping dead in her tracks. Her head came up. Yes, she still had the assassin. Good bits had been exchanged. A deal had been made. A reputation was on the line. The timetable would have to be moved up. The queen was moving, aware the priestess was up to something. She had purged a lot of the magic from Reign Cloud, but not all of it. The core was still in place, Zeala was certain. However, there was a chance the core was now unstable. There might be no chance to control it. All the pain and suffering had given the core strength, the power within ready to be unleashed. 

Ten years was a long time to consolidate power, to feed the essence of pain and misery of a Halfling into something the world had not seen since the times before the Unification. Once, ponies had been three Tribes. In those times, the Tribes fought among each other. Their hatred and warring ways had brought about horrors long since thought gone.

The soul intended for it was being cleansed of corruption. Too much had been invested to allow for such a thing! Prince Reign Cloud was the first of his kind in an Age. He was a bridge between two species and the magic within him, though not powerful, was of both changeling and pony. It did not need to be powerful. It only needed to be on both sides of the divide.

Zeala had understood the risks. Doing all within her power, she tapped into the magics taught to her to deflect and dissuade. For a decade, she had manipulated, worming her way into the favor of the Royal Family. All of what had been taught her, coupled with her growing understanding of this time compared to the time she had come from had been meticulously blended. The miasma spells she cast kept them from understanding the depths of her deception. Her manipulation magic concealed their own suspicions from them. The greatest fear was of one of the elder Alicorns discovering her intentions. Being open to them at first and then staying in the background seemed to have worked, but they would come. They would put themselves before the priestess and they would show their power.

Zeala knew she had no chance against them.

Everything was crashing down around her and it had happened with such suddenness. One moment, she was counting the moments to when she could unleash her vengeance and bask in the radiance of her victory. Her love would be restored to her and everything was supposed to be as it was and meant to be. 

The next, she was foiled by the sudden appearance of that queen.

Chrysanthemum, the Black Queen. The Slayer of Changeling Queens. The Tamer of Emperors, the Beautiful Death. If she were an Alicorn, she would represent Lust and War. Time and time again the queen fought against everything sent against her and each time she emerged triumphant. The ruthlessness displayed by the dethroned monarch. She had not only taken her throne back, but she consolidated her power quickly and began striking back at her enemies. It was whispered over a dozen heads of queens who had fought against her had been collected personally by Chrysanthemum. Zeala knew the queen was no weakling back then, but her nobles had abandoned her, the Religious Caste condemned her for her half breed offspring.

It should have been easy. Convince the queen to leave her child with his birth father. Encourage her to go back and retake her throne. Emphasize the destruction of those who had wronged her. Against such odds, what were the chances she would succeed?

Years of planning had included contingencies against obvious overwhelming odds. One such contingency was in the form of a tooth in the back of her lower right mandible. Working it loose with her tongue, she spat it out. It was a tiny crystal that did not fall, but hovered at the level of her chest. Zeala knew she was alone. There were no eyes upon her. But the magic wards would detect the magic. There would not be much time before the alarms sounded if they hadn’t already.

“Mistress?” called a voice from the crystal. “Mistress, I am ready to hear your words!”

“Igor,” Zeala purred with the command she was used to having, “It is time. Prepare for the ritual.” She considered the assassin she had hired and her cronies. Too many coincidences plagued her mind in regards to that changeling. Zeala trusted her instincts and had prepared.

Changelings were devious and wore many, many faces. They played all sides until they settled upon the one that benefitted them the most. Zeala knew this as much as any other changeling. It was what made her race strong and untrustworthy. There were always opportunities for others to ruin plans to achieve their own goals.

As was mentioned, Zeala prepared.

“So soon? Ah—At once, High Priestess!” Igor was loyal. Igor was stupid. Igor worshiped the ground Zeala walked upon.

Chuckling, Zeala let the crystal drop to the floor. It tinged once, bounced high in the air and began to glow bright. Shouts could be heard down the hall. The alarms were silent, but the guards were not. As the crystal fell a second time, the changeling lifted a hoof. At the moment it struck the floor a second time, her hoof fell as she made a violent snarl. The crystal was smashed, and the light became a blinding flash.

The last thing the guards saw as they came upon High Priestess Zeala’s cell was a cackling changeling winking from existence.





Reign Cloud awoke to feeling hooves around his barrel. Blinking, his body felt numb and it was wonderful. Gone was the aches, the pains he had grown accustomed to. His head swam, but it was not in a sea of pain. The echoes of a strange voice still resonated in his mind, her words a confusing caress leaving him feeling conflicted. Why was he conflicted? Why was he feeling like this? And who was hugging him to death?

A sniff of his nostrils told him it was Maggie. The colt managed to look down at his barrel and saw one of her holed legs clutching at him. She had a possessive grip. Reign felt safe. Ears perked and swiveled back and he could hear her breathing in her sleep. Maggie was bigger than him. Even through her carapace, she felt nice against him. Heaving a great sigh, Reign snuggled deeper into his blankets, feeling very tired. Whatever the Queen had done to him had left him groggy and lightheaded.

But he also felt good. Reign couldn’t remember for the life of him the last time he had felt…

Was this normal? Was this what it felt to be normal? It was unbelievable! There was a niggling feeling in the back of his mind. He knew what it was after a moment. His mother had done more than just take away his pain.

I feel you. Light laughter echoed in his mind. I am content. I am you and you are me. Our bond is remade. She was brushing his thoughts, her attempts shy but inquisitive. From the other side, she wanted to know her son. 

Reign inhaled sharply, his body going rigid. Mother? It felt natural to speak in his mind, even if it was awkward and strange. The word felt out of place going to anypony other than Cadence. Are you going to take me away? Fear and worry filled his thoughts. The Hive Mind was exclusive to changeling family members, he had been taught, the bond never fully broken even if family members had be separated for years. Wilda had been a good teacher and the lessons had been expanded by Maggie. Due to his pony heritage, the Hive Mind was never quite as stable.

Not unless you wish to come with me. I came to let you see me, so I can speak with you, face to face. I am sorry if I gave you that impression. Sorrow brushed against his thoughts. Her mind opened to him and he could feel her pain.

Anger riled up, Reign found he was pushing back the sorrow. I don’t believe you.

He could feel her sigh and the trembling resonating from her mind. I suppose you would not. I would feel the same way if our roles were reversed, my son. Her voice tickled and hummed in his head, making Reign shake it without thought. There is much about changeling culture I would like to teach and show you.

Reign squeezed his eyes shut and snorted, startling Maggie. There is much about pony culture you need to learn and respect, he shot back, I could feel the hurt you were doing to my momma and poppa. Did you think I would just be happy to have you back, when you are a stranger to me? Why couldn’t you just show yourself at that table with all those other rich snobs when Poppa was trying to get support for his hoofball team? Why couldn’t you just be upfront and honest? Why do you have to hide behind lies and illusions?

Chrysanthemum recoiled from his words. My Pale Shadow, I would never—

“Get out of my head!” Reign screamed as he bolted upright.

“Reigny?” Maggie blinked, looking up at him in shock and worry. “Who are you talking to?”

“Queen Chrysalis,” he growled, flaring his wings. You’re evil. Go away. I don’t want you. I don’t need you. I have everything I need here. I have Momma and Poppa. I have Maggie. I don’t want anything to do with a warmongering monster.

The vastness between his mind and the queen was silent. It remained so for several long and agonizing moments. A dawning horror occurred to him. Reign had no idea how to close the connection. He searched about in his mind, thinking of anything that might work: closing imaginary doors, imaginary windows, chimney chutes, even pulling a mental blanket over his head. Nothing worked. Instead, he felt what he thought was faint weeping echoing deep from the other end. The young colt felt remorse for his thoughts. A consoling thought began to form, to reach out—

Only to be interrupted from the room exploding around him with magical energies as the air shimmered. Dark forms appeared, their details obscured by swirling shadows throughout the room. Four, five, six winked into existence, and they moved with alarming swiftness. Chittering voices and hisses filled Reign’s ears. Fear filled his heart and he hissed back at them. Maggie was up, and she, too was hissing. Both displayed their fangs and flared their wings. Hisses became alarming chirps as the instincts to call for their mothers took hold. Panic began to set in.

“Two of them?” one of the shadowy fiends noted and questioned another.

There was a nod to the shadow that had been addressed. “Shut them up! We don’t need that damned broodmother showing up! Take them both. Our client awaits!”

Two of the shadows moved to the door, their magic charging up. Seals went up. Other spells were being cast. Reign could feel the air humming with magic. He snapped at one of the would-be foalnappers, his blood singing in his ears.

“Yeah, he’s feisty,” commented to shadow reaching for him. “C’mere, ya little shit.”

“Use a sleep spell, you idiot,” hissed one of the other companions. “In and out. We don’t have time to play. That bucking broodmare, remember we do not want to tangle with her!”

It struck Reign as odd the foalnappers were more afraid of Wilda than they were of Momma or Poppa. He felt insulted.

Maggie attacked, letting out a shriek of rage. A bolt of magic struck her full in the face. She was asleep before her body was caught by her attacker. Reign blinked, was about to roar in fury when his vision went bright, then suddenly black.