//------------------------------// // History // Story: A Change of Heart // by Silver Malice //------------------------------// Mandrake and Hemlock made their way through the tunnels and chambers of Citadel Tor, the elder changeling lunging forward with great stride, while the younger pranced around his legs like an excited rabbit. It was not unusual for them to take these kinds of walks, Mandrake showing the young prince-ling his kingdom and his subjects. The crystals embedded in the sides and roof of the tunnel systems cascaded their illumination upon the two changelings. Tonight Mandrake was in one of his more sombre moods; a phase Hemlock had seen him endure many times. Despite his cold demeanor however, Mandrake always made time for Hemlock, showing greater patience at times then his own parents. It was one reason the young prince felt more comfortable around the elder, and saw him as more of a confidant. “So Hemlock, why were you so dirty that you needed to be bathed so...thoroughly?” asked Mandrake his ice blue eyes focusing on the youngsters dapper green. They were in the middle of one of the larger causeways connecting the Hive, below them a deep connecting hole full of tunnels, bridges and platforms. Changelings could just be seen going about their business, their blue and red eyes glowing in the dark. Hemlock gave a brief smile as the memories of his playtime flooded back to him. “Oh well me and Juniper were playing near the old mud pit in the lower catacombs. I jumped in to prove it was dry and win our bet” explained the young changeling. “Was being right more important than being clean?” wondered out loud the elder, never taking is gaze of the young prince. Lifting a hoof he stroked across the forming beard under his chin. “Dirtying yourself for a simple bet could be thought of as a foolish act of pride my prince.” He stated flatly. Hemlock groaned as he turned away from Mandrake’s glare, putting his hooves over his face in clear dejection. “Argghh not you too Mandrake, I’m fine with the dirt. Really!” he squeaked. Taking the opportunity the young changeling tried to peer over the ledge of the pathway. “Besides Juniper and I wanted to finish our match of who was better, Thorax or mom,” he peeped, nudging himself almost clear over the edge of the bridge-way. A strong hoof lashed out and caught him before he could fall pulling him back until he was pressed against the chest of a glaring Mandrake. “And just what do you mean by that ?” snarled the elder, his usual patience thrown to the wind. “Oh-well, j-just that we were playing: I was mom and Juniper was Thorax, and we, we were just trying to see who the better fighter was.” Hemlock only stared back at the snarling changeling with his wide eyes, the icy blue making him uncomfortable. “Juniper wanted us to fall into the pit as part of the role play, but she we didn’t know if there was any mud to break our fall.” He whimpered the last bit, the elder’s grasp starting to hurt him. Mandrake seemed to sense that he was being too much for the prince, and quickly released him. “Forgive me my prince but you should know by now, Thorax is not a changeling to emulate...at all!” the hiss Mandrake released at that last bit chilled Hemlock to the bone. “B-But he’s my h-half brother,” whimpered Hemlock. “He still sends me gifts and letters. Mom says they’re just to butter me up, but they really do seem genuine.” Mandrake looked away from Hemlock and the young prince could swear he almost saw a tear in the old changeling’s eye. “Thorax is neither brother of yours...nor son of mine,” growled Mandrake coldly. “He’s a traitor, a usurper, and a heretic. He’s a corrupter, who will steal everything that makes you what you are and turn it inside out. He’ll connive you into hating yourself and your kind, hating your mother and father...even hating me.” Hemlock looked shocked as he squeaked in surprise. “B-But I could never hate mom, or dad, or even you Mandrake... you’re all my family.” “That does not matter to Thorax,” grunted Mandrake angrily. “If it did he would not have betrayed us and stolen your birthright my prince. You were to be our first King, and he took that from you, just as he took your mother’s throne and my trust.” Mandrake hissed loudly as he suddenly started to walk forward, nudging Hemlock with the tip of his snout to follow. “Follow me little one, I have something for you to see” he whispered, just loud enough for Hemlock to make it out. The young prince followed briskly beside Mandrake, keeping quiet as he let the last few minutes play back in his head. Normally he didn’t talk about his half-brother, the whole situation being very tense for his mom and many others. For a second he had forgotten the need for secrecy, his time with Mandrake usually where he could talk about things he couldn’t elsewhere. He had been such a fool to realize this was not one of those things. They walked together, the young and old, barley talking at all. Hemlock padded silently beside the elder changeling watching with envy how Mandrake seemed to make his long strides look as regal as possible. The young prince’s small hops and scurrying now looked far less impressive in comparison. The two changelings passed up several long winding stairways and over a few more bridges until Hemlock noticed a change in the air. He could smell the fragrance of the outside world more clearly than before, as well as hear the soft whistle of a breeze blowing through the catacomb of tunnels. They were nearing the surface. Mandrake directed them up one last set of stairs, carved out of the very rock of the mound that was Citadel Tor. As they reached the top Hemlock could now feel the breeze blowing across his scales, the cool air a change from the heat of the underground. Just in front of them lay what appeared to be a balcony gazing out of the main tower of the Hive mound. As they exited the hive and stepped onto the balcony Hemlock had to jump up on his back legs to see over the balcony rail. The cold air of the brisk night washed over him as he stared up at the stars. Hemlock always loved the night, the starlight entrancing and the moon just a sight to behold. The colt didn’t know much about how his parents had gotten together, but he had overheard enough gossip to know they had come together by moonlight. Since then he was fascinated by the moon and the power it held. However, tonight the moon was shielded behind several dark clouds. Its power and majesty imprisoned at least until the next night. Peering from the top of the tower Hemlock gasped as he found he could see nothing but desert and wasteland for as far as his keen eyes could see. His Changeling night vision was terrible effective and acute at night. Off in the very far distance, just on the horizon he could make out the glowing jewel like presence of the old central hive. His mother’s old hive and seat of power...which was now Thorax’s, him and his new changeling order. “Tell me young prince, what you see,” asked Mandrake stoically, his own gaze not leaving the sight of glowing mound on the horizon. “Umm...the badlands,” answered Hemlock innocently. “Indeed...wasteland as far as you can see. But did you know little one that it didn’t always use to be that way?” inquired the elder changeling. Coming to rest and stand directly beside Hemlock. “Really, so you mean it wasn’t always such a...dump?” asked the prince. The older adult merely chuckled as he turned his head from gazing upon Hemlock and stared out across the desert below them. Mandrake’s dark hooves scraped along the compacted dirt floor until he rested on his back legs, his front raped over the edge of the balcony. “No my boy, this land used to be nothing but lush forest, deep lakes, and fine green brush as far as the eyes could ever see.” The elder changeling’s voice was filled with reverence and longing, his gaze unwavering upon the cactus infested sea of dunes. “Do you know where our species came from Hemlock?” he inquired blatantly. The alpha’s dark gaze and ice blue eyes swiveled down to peer at the young changeling. Hemlock looked up curiously at the elder, his gaze caught once again in those deep icy pools. His parents had always refrained from teaching him too much of their past, insisting that he would better understand such things when he was older. Personally he had viewed that particular excuse to be quite condescending. He didn’t like the idea of being kept in the dark because he was too young. It just felt like the type of excuse you give a kid when you can’t be bothered to tell them the truth. “I can’t say I do sir. My parents told me I was too young.” Hemlock couldn’t avoid the disgusted scoff from the older changeling, making him shrink himself down. He didn’t want to badmouth his own parents but the young prince shared that same distaste for their silence. “I can’t truly blame them,” began Mandrake coldly. “However, given the circumstances I believe you should know where we come from, why we feed off of love…and why we have no hearts.” The elder dropped from the balcony and peered down upon Hemlock. His horn suddenly began to light up with bright green plasma and energy. A small blob of magic bloomed in front of the two changelings slowly morphing and melting until it expanded into a large ball. The center of the ball was crystal clear like a mirror while the outer frame was cascaded in burning green flame. Hemlock’s eyes were fixated on the expert magic in front of him. Pangs of jealousy and intrigue sparked inside of him as he watched Mandrake shape his magic. The young changeling could only hope one day he could wield such power as beautifully as the old master. Mandrake closed his eyes as he prepared himself mentally to speak. This particular brand of visual spell required a great deal of mental concentration. All magic had a price, and that was the cost of projecting the memories and knowledge from your mind into the scrying sphere. “As you know, our race and our civilization was not the first…the first civilization was born in the land that we now call Equestria.” As Mandrake spoke the sphere glowed and sparked with shapes and pictures beginning to form in the center. Hemlock watched in awe as a series of rolling hills, bright lush forests, and farmland took form, as if from an artist’s brush flowing over a blank canvas. Mandrake continued while his horn shook as several new forms took shape inside the sphere. A four legged creature erupted from the ground, a very familiar looking creature. One that Hemlock could only describe as resembling closely a changeling without wings. “These creatures who inherited this lush Eden were called...ponies.” Hemlock looked upon the ponies in the sphere and was confused by their appearance. He had never before seen a non changeling. They had no hard bodies of scales, no mandibles, no horns, or even wings upon their backs. They shared similar anatomy with changelings but were far different then he had heard and assumed. “B-But Mandrake they have no wings or horns, mom said they had horns and wings,” the princeling’s curious nature overtaking his manners. He didn’t even realize he had just interrupted the elder. Mandrake stood still with his eyes remaining closed as he grinned at the youngsters words. “I was just getting to that my prince, for you see back then the land was much different then it is now. Ancient and filled with power.” Mandrake’s horn spluttered a shower of sparks as the shapes shook and the figures inside the ball faded away. Then the shapes flickered in one last flash before they blobbed together, changing shape once again. The various shapes swarmed into a giant mass until they had formed together into one single figure. The figure was a tall and strong looking pony, flanked by a pair of large wings and sporting a sparkling horn upon its forehead. “Under the leadership of Allomane the first alicorn and the prince of life, the pony civilization flourished.” stated Mandrake. The sphere gurgled before the figure of Allomane exploded into small miniature shapes, individual ponies arranged in three separate groups who suddenly began walking in different directions. Mandrake cleared his throat as he prepared to continue. Unknown to Hemlock the strain of the mental concentration was beginning to show on Mandrake. Still the elder pushed on: “As the ponies ventured further and further into the unknown land they began to absorb and encounter the deep and powerful magic’s ingrained in our primordial world,” As he spoke the ponies began to radiate with bright colors. “And thus were born the three prime races.” As he spoke the radiating figures melted once again before reconstituting themselves into three larger pony forms. It reminded Hemlock of how the royal sculptures manipulated dark clay. Suddenly around the first of the pony figures sprouted several tree like shapes. The lead pony turned around and then brought their back hooves crashing into the trees which collapsed into oblivion. “The first race was the earth pony, builders, farmers, in touch with the land and the power of the earth,” grunted Mandrake. The earth ponies suddenly changed, two large pillow-like wings spurting from their back as they left the ground and took to the bright blue sky. “The second race was the pegasai, masters of flight and caretakers of the sky.” Mandrakes blue eyes opened as the glowing sphere took a dark shade of blue instead of its flaming green. The pegasus pony then convulsed before its wings shriveled and blew away, the sky faded and the newly grounded figure sprouted a large horn from its forehead. “Finally there was the last race, the unicorn...our ancestors. The race most attuned to using and manipulating the magic and deep powers of the world” Hemlock was entranced with the pony; of all of the equestrians he had seen this one had the closest appearance to his changeling race. Without the horn the unicorn was clearly no different than the earth pony. But it was surprising how one single appendage could change your entire impression of some-pony. “How did we come from that?” he questioned, his green eyes staring unblinking at the image of the unicorn. Mandrake chuckled beside him lifting a hoof to scratch the prince’s ear gently. “Well you see my prince, over the years the unicorns of Equestria ventured further than the other races, their thirst to master and uncover the limits magic was unquenchable,” the images of the unicorns changed locations from rivers and streams to large forests and grass plains. Mandrake rolled his shoulders as he grimaced from the strain of concentration. “As the unicorns expanded their borders they began to encounter all manner of beasts: Griffons, diamond dogs, hydras, monsters and then...the Chamealoid.” As he finished, the image of a strange looking insect, with jagged wings, hard scales, sharp mandibles and a long tail with a pointed end took shape in the sphere. Its eyes looked almost like the changelings; in fact this insect looked eerily familiar to Hemlock who gasped at the realization. “T-That is us?” he whispered. Mandrake only shook his head his grey mane spilling over his tensed shoulders. “No, but it is the key to our origin. An insect that like us could change shape to blend in and avoid enemies, who required the feeding of energy to live,” Mandrake turned his head as the sphere suddenly turned dark blue. “At the time it only required magical energy to absorb.” “How did we come from that then?” Hemlock recoiled from the sphere. “D-did it feed on the unicorns?” Mandrake smiled at the prince’s astuteness. “Yes, the unicorns were a perfect source of magical energy, and over the ages the unicorns began to absorb the traits of the creature that fed off of them.” Mandrake flashed his horn as the sphere flickered. The unicorn slowly began to blossom and grow until it took the shape of a long gangling form of bright colors. A form that was completely different from the one Hemlock shared. “But, but we don’t look like that!” cried Hemlock shocked by how beautiful and strange the butterfly like changelings looked. “Back then we did, a new race was born from the combination of two...the changeling.” Mandrake’s voice shook with pride as he continued on. “Our race settled in the rain-forests that once perpetuated this land, a land of green, of fresh pools and rivers, plenty and beauty. Together we created the hive link and coordinated our efforts and built a grand civilization to rival that of our pony cousins to the north.” The elder changeling spoke the last line with a great passion Hemlock only ever heard him use in his speeches and reports to his mother. 
 The prince’s eyes widened as he saw the streams, rivers and mass rain-forest spread out across the land, the sphere itself barely able to contain it all. Then Hemlock thought of something, something that had slipped his mind. “W-what happened then?” the young prince noting Mandrake’s shoulders tensed at his question. The elder changeling seemed to appear much older and more downtrodden in the fading moon light. “War happened. Allomane, prince of life, the binder of all the great races...fell. In his place rose Deadbane...the alicorn of death.” Mandrake couldn’t help the distaste and venom from seeping into his voice as he thought of the dark prince. The sphere shifted and a fearsome skeleton pony rose out of the blood red ground, eyes burning with undead passion and brilliance. Hemlock shuddered before closing his eyes, unable to stand the ghoul alicorn’s very sight. “The newly ascended princesses of Equestria, Allomane’s adopted daughters fought Deadbane in a brutal civil war,” continued Mandrake. The sphere flashed before the fiery Skeleton alicorn was engaged with the bright glowing figures of two others, one with along flowing rainbow mane the other with a dark bluish mane like night. Powerful energy blasts flew back and forth between all three. Mandrake paused to regroup his strength.“Deadbane called forth all to his side: ponies with dark hearts, griffons, diamond dogs, dragons! It was an army for which to burn all of Equestria and the world to ash...to bring death to us all.” “Did, did we help?” his wide eyes stared up at the elder, hoping beyond hope that wasn’t the case, despite that sinking feeling in his gut. “We stayed out of the fight as long as we could,” began Mandrake. “It was not our fight, but Deadbane wanted his soldiers, and so eventually he came to us.” Mandrake growled as the sphere burned bright red; the image of the Skeleton prince standing over the bright changelings flickered and flashed. “He demanded we join his side, ‘bring to all of Equestira the reckoning it deserved,’ he said,” spat Mandrake harshly. “We refused, no one commands us, no one owns us, and we can choose our own reckoning.” Hemlock watched as the sphere changed to dark grey, the mages inside evaporating. Hemlock sighed as he brought a hoof to his chest as if he was feeling for something that was not there. “So instead...he cursed us.” Hemlock watched as the sphere lit up, the image of the changelings suddenly shifting, the wings becoming more jagged, the horns twisting unnaturally, while their bright bodies mutated into hard black scale and chitin. “He took from us what gave us our power; what made us greater than our unicorn ancestors...he took our hearts.” Mandrake dropped his hoof from his chest his eyes opened starring dead and unblinking into the abyss of nothing. “O-our hearts?” inquired Hemlock, he had never heard of a heart before. Neither his mother or father ever mentioned it either, but that was not a big surprise at this point. Mandrake turned to stare at the prince making sure the young one’s eyes were fixed to his. “You see my prince, a changelings heart is his source of energy. Before we did not need to feed off of love to survive, and yet without love of our own...” He turned away to look at the sphere, the desolate form of the creature inside filled him with loss and anger. “And so we were devolved, our light dimmed. Our bodies’ rescinded into these withering shells, our souls stained with vicious desire and filled with a hole and hunger that could never be sated or filled.” Mandrake’s voice softened as it dripped with something Hemlock had never heard before...pain. Hemlock inched towards the older changeling lord. He placed one of his soft hooves on the others leg in sympathy. The prince did not know what Mandrake was feeling, or what he had been through, but he did understand that the elder changeling was quite distraught. Mandrake suddenly continued without warning: “Without love we cannot sustain our bodies, you’ve seen the holes and the decay in so many of us have you not?” he inquired. Hemlock nodded. He had always wondered about that, but his mother had never brought up why she had so many holes in her legs, while others had far worse...far worse. “That is because of a lack of love, without it our bodies cannibalize themselves to feed our need,” answered Mandrake solemnly. “But...why?” asked the young prince. “Deadbane hoped we would suck every last ounce of love and essence out of Equestria, then starve to death...wrapping up loose ends as it were,” muttered the elder changeling. “He didn’t succeed though, I mean Equestria is still there,” yipped the young one, his eyes darting to the sparkling glow of the other hive on the horizon, and beyond that lay Equestria far from sight. “That is because of your mother and grandmother. Two of the bravest changelings I’ve ever known.” “My grandmother?” “Queen Aurelia...she and your mother stood against Deadbane, when we would do his bidding no more, they stood against the devil and stared him right in the eyes,” growled Mandrake passionately. “What happened?” asked the price, Hemlock was deeply interested for Chrysalis never talked about other queens or her mother. “They did what even the princesses of Equestria could not...they drained the monster of his energy and imprisoned his decayed ruin in the very bowls of the earth...forever,” finished Mandrake. The changeling prince could only stare wide eyed as he imagined what that fight had looked like, what it would have been like to take on that terrifying ghoul. Then another thought occurred to him...why didn’t mother ever talk about queen Aurelia? “Grandmother didn’t survive...did she?” he asked solemnly. Deep down inside himself, he knew the answer. His mother hadn’t gotten to the way she was for no reason. Mandrake shared his view as he looked down. “No...It took too much from her to contain Deadbane’s energy...too much death to hold inside oneself.” “But we were freed from Deadbane right?” “The damage was already done...” stated Mandrake, his cold eyes darkening in the star light. Hemlock shifted his stance as he came to rest right beside the elder, their flanks so close they touched. “The Equestirans and other races turned on us for serving Deadbane. It was only through our mastering of our transformation abilities that we were able to escape alive, to flee back here. Only then to find that our hunger would not be stopped,” hissed Mandrake coldly. The elder lord looked over the balcony at the sea of dead wasteland longing and sadness appearing in his gaze and filling his voice. “Like some sort of plague or a living pestilence we poisoned and ruined everything that was green and lush, until only scorched dessert remained...another prison to contend with...” Hemlock looked over the balcony as well and felt a deep sadness; he could almost picture the green rain-forest, and blue streams in Mandrake’s memories, only for the crushing depression of reality to come back full force. Mandrake slumped as his horn suddenly gave out, the magical sphere spluttering before splashing onto the cold stone ground like a large drop of water. The energy pool glowed brightly for a few seconds before finally dissipating into the air. The young prince was at a loss for words, but he felt he needed to manage at least something. “That’s why my parents never told me. They didn’t want me to be ashamed of myself.” “You have nothing to be ashamed of boy,” whispered Mandrake. “We bear this curse because we would not bow down to others. It has not been easy but we have rebuilt our civilization, we are a proud race once more...and we should not apologize for any of it!” Hemlock stood back as Mandrake stood to his full stature, towering above the young foal. “You should never be ashamed of what you are my prince, for you are changeling and that...is an honor.” The prince could only nod while his head filled with thoughts and feelings he couldn’t begin to sort or understand. Mandrake seemed to suddenly take stock of where they were. He stared up towards the night sky blossoming with bright stars and the moon still hidden behind several dark ribbons of cloud smoke. “I believe we shall call an end to this lesson Hemlock...it is late and young princes need their rest...come along.” Hemlock filed in behind the elder as they made their way back down through the hive structure, his questions and his inner struggle twisting inside of him. He was too afraid to bring it up with Mandrake, not after all that. The elder was probably just as exhausted as him, but could he trust his parents to answer his questions? Could he count on them or did they fear that he might turn out to hate them, resent their very species...Were they afraid he might become like...Thorax? ᴥ }<>{