//------------------------------// // Chapter 1 // Story: Mourning // by Amaranthine Thought //------------------------------// I hate them.  I hate them all, each and every last one of those colorful ponies.             It hurts.  Like nothing I have felt.  I was thrown so far that my legs have shattered and my body is broken.  My blood seeps into the earth near me, but I am not undone!             I am alive!  I will recover, and I will make them pay for this!  We shall recover and return and if they think I will be so merciful next time…             They no longer deserve to feed my swarm.  Their heroes will suffer for this humiliation.  I will make them beg to be our food, and deny them.  No longer will I try to get everypony.  Anypony who might be a threat will be dealt with as one.             It may take me some time to recover.  I need my swarm.  I landed very badly to say the least, and cannot move on my own.             …             Answer!  Respond!             Your queen demands it!             …             Nothing.  What is blocking them from hearing me?             Well, they can’t deny me.  I can force the connection.  And then I shall…             …             Half.  Half are left, and with each breath, dozens more are gone.  I can sense fear, terror, pain…             My swarm… my… my…             Sleep!  Sleep and recover!             …The command seems to have worked.  The death slows and their thoughts dim.  They will survive.  They must survive.  What can I do if I do not have a swarm..?             I can’t spare any love for them.  I am too hurt to spare any, my body demanding more than I have already.             They must endure.             I must endure.             I am going to kill one pony for each changeling who died this day.  And they will know what they did as they die, and I will make it slow!             Time passes slowly.  The sun sets soon, and yet it takes forever, and when it does, the night drags on.             At least the night relieves me of seeing the gore all around me.  The darkness is calming.             Almost three quarters are gone, but I think it stopped.  The connection gently fails as they fall into a deeper sleep.  Ten thousand strong, reduced to maybe three thousand.             Five hundred thousand before the starvation.  Maybe more.  Maybe it was even more.  I have seen far too many stave from the lack of love.  Piles of bodies burned away, hives left empty, my swarm decimated by hunger and the disease that the death brought with it.             Ten thousand fell, and from them came the plagues.  I took harsh measures, burning away the problem, forcing the rations, collecting the final drops of love from thousands of changelings…             Ten thousand from so many.  Ten thousand of the strongest, the hardiest, the most loyal.  They would do anything for me, not even consider speaking back.  Not once did any one of them ever question me or my efforts.             Not when I captured ponies in the cocoons.  Not when I drained them to death.  Not when I took children, nor when I ordered them to do the same to them.  Not one.             Those ponies were in preparation.  Our hunger would never end unless I could get every pony all at once.  The combined love from them would never fade.             Like cows, milked and bred to create more cows for more milk.             A changeling would never starve ever again.             That was the idea, and a few were slain to keep us moving, and make us stronger.  The youngest held the most love, so I targeted them most often.  And not one of my swarm ever questioned it. When we reached Canterlot, I was worried.  I was hungry and weak, we all were.  An invasion would only fail, even against the peaceful ponies.  Then the greatest opportunity ever fell right in front of me.             The alicorn of love was getting married.  And she, for whatever reason, was outside the city, searching for something.             We captured her, but despite everything I couldn’t get a single drop of love from her.  Nothing worked, so I simply sealed her underground, where she wouldn’t disrupt anything.             Then I took her place.             The greatest feast I ever had came from Shining Armor.  He gave me the strength to control him, force his acceptance.  Mess him up so that my swarm could slip inside.             It was going so well.  Everything was in place as I worked under the very eyes of the twin alicorns.  Nothing could stop me.             And then one purple unicorn took one look and knew what was going on.             My greatest of efforts didn’t fool her, and it came too close.  It took my greatest acting to fool everypony else despite her knowledge.  Despite the fact that she was Shining’s sister.  Despite the fact that she was trusted by everypony, a student of Celestia herself.             Her friends abandoned her, and even the princess turned her back.  She was broken and sobbing and I had won.             But I decided that I couldn’t leave her to try again.  I returned and locked her away as well.             And then, like a fool, I taunted her.  She found Candance and broke free, and came back.             It came so close.  I had won.  She might have broken free, exposed me at the worst moment, but I overcame!             With Shining’s love, I defeated Celestia, and not one chubby pony could fight a changeling.  My swarm captured their heroes and dragged them before me, and I gloried in myself before them.             I could feel the swarm’s happiness.  The love they were already collecting, their hunger slowly fading.             I had won.  I had saved them.             And then it happened.  I never saw it.  Never even imagined it could happen.             In arrogance, I taunted them once more.  In arrogance, sure of myself, I let Candance go free, to prove her helplessness.  And she did something.             I’ll never forget it.  That wave of power that swept us all away, thrown from the city and tumbling to the earth miles away.  But the worst…             That same power robbed us of the love we had taken, and left us nearly powerless.  Unable to endure the landing, nor recover from the fall.             I crashed into a forest, and most of me broke on contact.  I can imagine that most of my swarm suffered the same fate.  But I am special; I am hard to kill.             They are not.             For the first time in my life, I wish that I didn’t have to hear them.  Every now and then, one wakes, and a pony kills it.  Or they wake to being eaten by some beast, and their screams echo in my head.             I will not sleep tonight.             The morning sun rises.  The light comes and light the area once more.  A beacon of hope for ponies.  Like a song in the morning, telling that everything is safe.             It is a dirge.  A dirge for my swarm.             A dirge for them all.             Not one has awoken.  Not one has come back to me.  Not one survived the night.             My vision grows blurry, and an unfamiliar pain crawls in my throat.  I don’t know why.  My hate is washed away by…             Sadness.             I was never sad before.  I suppose the water in my eyes are my tears.  I never cried before.  Not once.             And once, I would never have imagined feeling such.  When my swarm was dying by the thousands, I was desperate to stop it, but I wasn’t sad.  When the choice came to order the death of many to save the rest, I wasn’t sad.  When we left the only home I ever knew, I wasn’t sad.             I… What else could I have done?  There was no other choice but to try and invade, but…             I came so close.  But in my arrogance, I gave the ponies the strength to fight.  And through that, I…             I… failed.             I failed my swarm.             My actions led to this.             I led them here.  I made those choices.  I ordered them to obey.  I made those mistakes, and now, they suffer the consequences.             My tears worsen at the thought, but it is true.  I know it is, though I hate that it is true.             I am no queen.             And maybe I never was.             Have I ever ruled them like I should have?  Have I ever considered what they wanted and felt and thought?  Did I ever, ever care at all for them?             No.  I never did.  They were tools, minions, living weapons.  Things to be used for my benefit.  Thrown away when they were useless, and discarded when I had no use.             Not on thought given for them.  Not one.             A though comes to me, and I… I whimper.             I wasn’t just a failure as a queen.             I failed them twice.             I laid each and every egg.  I hatched them.  I grew them, feeding them until they could feed themselves.  Taught them, watched them, ruled them…             My swarm.             My children.             I ruled by hate and fear.  Obey, or die.  So many I had slain because they didn’t work hard enough.  Because they didn’t match my expectations.  Because they were in the way right then.             Not once did I care.  Not once did I worry, or know what they felt.             I only cared for myself.  And look at where that has led me.             A broken failure in a forest.             And every child dead.             By my actions.  Because of my choices.             Because of my pride.             I can barely breathe through my tears, and something in me changes.  As I lie whimpering and sobbing, the tiny bit of love in me… changes.             I… I want to see them.  I want to hear them, be near them.             My pain is so much worse now.  I failed…             My entire life, I have failed…             But I can’t fix it.  They are all dead.             My precious, beautiful children…             Dead.  Because their mother and queen couldn’t give a single glimpse at what was right.  Because I didn’t do what was necessary, because I decided to gloat instead of actually saving them.             Because I wanted to have the last word, they are dead.  Dying in pain and fear, dying in the night, dying by ponies, dying by timberwolves.  Dying from their injuries, dying scattered far and wide, alone and terrified and in agony.             Because of me.             I am no longer aware of my pain.  The… guilt is too much for me.  The regret.  The sorrow.             I can’t even see now.  I gasp to breath, unable to cry out in my injury, so I whimper instead.             I…             Wait.  Maybe… Maybe there is a chance.             Maybe one.  Just one.  Just one might survive.  Maybe one did, and I just have to listen as carefully as I can.             I try to gain as much control as I can, and try.  I have never tried harder.  Never felt such fear.             What if I find none?  What if…             One.  One lives.  One lives, barely clinging to life.  He is close to me, afraid and hurt, but alive.             Without even thinking, I send him my love, every last drop of it, and begin crawling toward him.  It is agony, but he is so close…             Then I find him.  Broken and bleeding on the forest floor.  His breathing is weak and his blood pools under him.             No pain is enough to keep me from him.  I force myself farther, and reach him, placing my legs around him as I collapse next to him, breathing hard.  I look into his face, and once I do, his eyes open just a little.             “My… queen.” he whispers, his voice rough and rasping.             “Shh… shh, I’m here.” I say, my own voice weak and soft and breaking.  I am crying again, but I don’t care.             “...My… queen?”  He coughs and shudders and my heart almost stops when he closes his eyes again.  Then one cracks open once more.             “Stop…  You’re hurt too badly… Please, lie still.  Get better.”  I am begging, but I don’t care.  My tears are back, and I try to hold him with my broken legs.  I try to keep him safe.  I feel him trembling.             “… I… My queen… I need to… to say something.”             He seems stronger but terrified.  He is watching me so closely, and his fear of me hurts like a dagger in my heart.  I can’t find my voice.  I can only nod.  I won’t bind him anymore.             “The others… we kept… kept a secret… a secret way to speak to each other… so we could… could talk.”             “We… we were worried about this… but it was… the only way…”  He coughs again before taking a rasping breath.             “And... we… we agreed… on something… last… day…”             I don’t want to know.  And yet, I need to.  His strength fluctuates as he speaks, and his fear makes him weaker.             “Tell me.  I… I won’t do anything… I won’t… I will help.  I… I promise, just don’t leave me…”             He is confused.  I can see it, feel it.  He is almost unable to understand me.  But he continues.             “We decided… that this invasion… that coming here… that following you… that listening no matter what…”             He sighs.  “We followed you… we listened… we obeyed… even with the children… even with the rations… so far… so much… but…”             “We decided…”             “That you, Chrysalis…”             He looks at me once more, and his eye shines with its own tears.  I am fearful, but I won’t turn away.  I deserve the rejection.             “Were the best queen we could have had.”             … What?             “You… made the choices… we couldn’t… You saved us… as many as you could… You led us here… you led us to the most food I ever saw…”             “You had won… You had done it… You had saved us… saved us all…”             “And… they took it away.  They stole… your victory...”             I am crying once more.  It is too much.             I cannot accept that.             “No.  No, they didn’t.  I… I failed you… I killed you, I killed you all.  I… I am not worthy of this…”             “…My queen?”             I turn from him, beginning to sob once more.             “My actions did this.  I threw my victory away.  I threw you all away.”             “I didn’t care.  I acted only for myself, and I never cared.  Not until it no longer matters…”             “My queen.  You mustn’t,”             “No.  I am just Chrysalis.  I am no queen.  I… I don’t deserve such from them… from you…”             “My queen!” he yells and I start.  He strains himself to his utmost.             “My queen, don’t.  Don’t blame yourself for this…  You…”             “Our queen… our glorious queen… our mother… our light, our guide…”             “Don’t… falter… now…”             He trails off and coughs again, and shudders badly.  I see it, and know it, and I freeze, a chill passing through me.             No… It can’t… But I have nothing!             He is dying and I can do nothing!             He sees my eyes and seems to know.  He smiles.             “I… We… loved you… our… queen…”             “No!  Stop, get better!” I beg.  “Please, you’re the last of my children!  I can’t live if you go!”             “You… must…”             “Stay… strong… keep… living…”             “My… glorious… mother…”             His eye closes and I can feel it when his life ends.             I was right there, and couldn’t save him.             I was right there and I couldn’t keep him safe.             Nothing I could do.             Nothing I could say.             I grab onto him and cry.  I press my head into his own, and sob.             I…             I love them.             Now, when it means nothing.             Now, I can feel a love filling me, for them, but there isn’t a single one left.             My love spills out, and there is nothing left.             My heart is shattering.  It is a pain worse than my crash.  It is a pain that will never end.             They… they loved me.  They followed me, not from fear, but from choice.             Each one, at their end, proclaimed me their queen and mother.             I deserve to be called traitor.  I killed them all, but they still… They saw it all, and still… They loved me.             They died in pain and fear and they still loved me.             They died alone in the dark and they still loved me.             I deserve their hate.  I deserve everything that can happen to me, every pain imaginable.  I deserve nothing.             And they gave me the greatest honor they could.  Knowing everything I did.  Knowing what I ordered, what I chose, the atrocities I inflicted on them and the ponies.             I never deserved them.             I never deserved to be queen.             I never deserved their loyalty.             I never deserved their love.             I never deserved to even lay such children.             I… I only endure because that is their last wish…             I am tormented beyond any endurance, but I can’t let go.             Or I would fail them in the last and worst way.             I would deny them their last wish.  And I won’t.  I will never fail them ever again.             Sobbing over the corpse of my last child, I find a tiny bit of me that can live on.  Some tiny portion with the strength to weather the storm of agony and tears.             I will survive.  I will continue.             But…             I would sooner lie dead.             Dead with my children.             Dead like I should be.             Dead like I deserve to be.             In torment for my betrayal.             For everything I did.             For everything I said.             For my entire life.             But they loved me.             And I love them, their deaths making me see what I had squandered my entire life.             But now, nothing is left.  Nothing but the dead and my regrets and my pain.             I find the strength.             And I cry out with everything I have, screaming my pain and loss.             I only wish that I could try again.