//------------------------------// // The Outcast // Story: The Age of Hunting // by SwordTune //------------------------------// Halfwing stretched awake, looking off the edge of her nest. Today was when she would test her power. The young drones would be no problem. They were born at the same time as her, and would falter on any order she gave them. The lieutenants, she was uncertain about. Maybe it wasn't too late to ask the groundskeeper for help. The Queen commands me to watch over this nest. The fact that you're here doesn't change that. Do what you will, I won't lift a hoof to help or hinder. No, they were loyal to a fault, groundskeepers. She'd have to hope the pressure from her drones would be enough to sway the lieutenants. And then there was the captain. "That plan will never work. We're here to guide your hunt, not expose ourselves to all of pony kind." He had his orders from her mother. The Queen's orders, Halfwing scoffed at that phrase. Over and over, it's all the captain and groundskeeper would talk about when she pressed them too hard. What did the Queen ever do for her? Halfwing looked at her left side. She could see a healthy, shining wing; it was exactly how it should have been. She turned to her right. There was a deformed stub, twitching around whenever she flapped her wings as if it was trying to remember what it was supposed to do. Her sister crippled her, and her mother did nothing but dangle the failure in her face. Her instinct told her she was born because there needed to be a new Queen. No Queen of the hive ever let her daughters live, not unless she felt it was time to relinquish the throne for a new generation. She remembered her egg-dreams, focusing on the vague memories of a distant Queen. Perhaps it was her grandmother, or maybe it went even farther back. I can't keep up with the ponies anymore, my daughter. Their farms are popping up all over our hunting grounds, and they're too smart to fool with our old methods. You've beaten the rest. Now, take the mantle. Halfwing rose to her hooves. In that egg-dream, the princess who became the queen conveyed no emotion. There was nothing but a simple duty to serve the hive and the Changeling species. Halfwing looked at her right side one more time. She'd take the mantle of Queen Chrysalis. But this time, she swore to herself, there would be satisfaction. She croaked a low pitched call to one of her hunter-drones. Another inconvenience she had to suffer through because of her sister. The drone was close and attentive, acting as her wings whenever she needed to fly. "Are you ready to make for Marblestop, princess?" "Not before breakfast," she said. "And I don't feel like moving yet. Grab a few others and go find the biggest creature stuck in the traps." The drone nodded and flew off hastily, not wanting to waste any time when it came to the princess. Even with her injury, she still had the only power that mattered: the power to control. But, since it'd take a while to check the traps, Halfwing figured a little magic practice wouldn't hurt. She sank her magic low into her stomach, feeling the burn of its power as her inner organs melted into simple tissues, reforming into new shapes and structures. First, she tried a hawk. She had seen plenty in the forest around the nest. The transformation felt whole and complete. She told herself there'd be no difference this time, but she couldn't help but look to her right again. The right wing was missing, just like as it was with every attempt. She tried others forms: owls, bats, crows, and eventually a pegasus. She flexed her one good wing, looking at herself. The hooves were healthy and her coat was soft and warm, like every other mammal she had seen in the forest. Everything about her pegasus form was perfect, except the right wing. She sighed and changed back. Try as she might, her body didn't know what it was like to have that other wing. No matter what she changed into, her mind couldn't conceive it. And without a will to guide it, magic would not build her a new wing by itself. Her captain and the groundskeeper assured her it was as much a mental block as it was physical, that once she mastered transforming she'd be able to fly as any creature she wished. All Halfwing could do now was hope they were right and wait. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Her drone watched as Halfwing stripped the leg bone of a boar bare. The squealing animal was twitching from shock, but the damage came on so suddenly that it was still alive enough to channel magic through its body. "Tell me how the rest of the pack is doing," she told her hunter-drone while she ate. "Did exactly as you asked," he responded. "We cleaned out every trap and syphoned as much magic as we could. Every hunter-drone but the captain and lieutenants are charged up with as much magic as possible." "Good." Halfwing took her attention off the boar's leg and sank her fangs into its neck for a killing bite, drinking up all its fear and pain before it bled to death. She cleaned herself on its fur and rose from the corpse after licking off the scraps of muscle on her chitin. Her plan was ambitious because of the time frame. They had only just left the hive a few days ago; it hadn't even been a week. The captain warned her not to rush the process, but she suspected he was starting to realize she wasn't planning to follow the rules. "Take me to the shore, and have someone tell the captain to meet me there," she commanded. Her drone nodded, and Halfwing assumed the humiliating position to let her drone lift her up. She stood with her legs wider as if she was bowing to the Queen, allowing room for the drone's legs to wrap under her and lock firmly together. She kept her one good wing closed tight by her side as the hunter-drone carried her away from the nest. Changelings were light for their size compared to mammals, but even Halfwing's weight proved to be no easy feat for the drone. He flew casually through the branches, but the humming of his wings sounded like he was pushing at his maximum effort. But, they came quick enough at the shore. There, five young hunter-drones were waiting for them with a small fishing boat. It wasn't much, which was exactly the kind of vessel Halfwing needed to get into Marblestop without drawing too much attention. Across the river, she looked at the docks of Marblestop. At this distance, it was impossible to make out much of what was happening in the village. Only the misty morning breeze carried scents across the river; Halfwing could smell coal dust, marble and granite, and red-hot iron being hammered at forges, exactly as the groundskeeper said. "Princess, we're too ahead of schedule," her captain said, approaching with the rest of the pack from behind. "If you want to out-hunt the other princesses, that's fine. But I urge you to take another day or two of training." "Are you not prepared for the hunt, captain?" Halfwing whirled around and peered at her hunter-drone. He was slightly taller than her--than all the other Changelings--and he wore a layer of armour fashioned from the carapace of the brothers he dominated in his youth. Even as a princess, Halfwing could feel his authority. But she wouldn't let herself be pushed over just because of her age. "If you're not ready, I suppose it would be better to wait," she said again, this time visibly irking the captain. She could smell a hint of indignation in his magic. "I just came back from checking the traps, and they're all empty, and the lieutenants haven't had a chance to regain their magic. It just shows you are too impatient to hunt." "So a minor problem, then." Halfwing acknowledged that he had a point, but she didn't care. "Is that all, captain?" His eyes bulged. "What? Is that all?" The captain let his jaw hang open, but her words threw him off too much to even give a reply. "The Queen sent you, yes," she said, boarding the boat without any hesitation. "But she's not here, your princess is. And I say that now is the time to hunt." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "I don't care about the cost, find me some pony who can handle the blast crystals." The miner nodded and galloped for the quartermaster's tent. The newest aqueduct was days from being finished. If not for the damage from the last cave in, everything would be going smoothly. Tiger Iron slumped into his office seat, in a little wooden shack temporarily set up to oversee the construction. He left the comfort of his home for this job? Halfwing wondered to herself as she tried to stretch in the small chair. The road to from Marblestop to its mines was long and cut through the forest, a perfect place to kidnap the real Tiger Iron and insert herself as his replacement, but now she was wondering if it would've been better just to risk it and sneak into the governor's home. A knock came on the office door. "You have a letter from Morganite, sir." The merchant at the docks. Halfwing recomposed herself and slipped into the role of a hardened overseer. "Just leave it in the mailbox, I'm in the middle of some papers," she lied. The rusted iron box squeaked open and shut. After a few moments, Halfwing stepped outside to grab the letter. Standing on the porch of the office, she could sense everything that went on in the mine. To her left, a small hole in the side of a cliff opened into a narrow passage of iron ore, and she could hear the three dozen slaves that had been sent down there in the morning still hammering away at the bedrock. The smell of sand and crushed gravel filled her nose from the construction site of the new aqueduct that would connect the mine to the nearest reservoir of water. Caementine was poured by the barrel, filling up massive sections of the support structure. The trickiest part was right in front of her, however. She watched as five tentative slaves pushed a wagon laden in heavy crystals, all enchanted by unicorns in a far-off village. From what she heard, it cost a fortune to get the governor to agree to sell the crystals from the village coffers. The crystals come from the north, whose trade fleet would not arrive in the south for another six months. Still, they were vital to the operation. Not just clearing the stones that had piled up in the wake of yesterday's accident, which triggered a landslide to wipe out half of the aqueduct, but also her own plans. Halfwing opened the letter. I did what you asked, but it was tricky. Hopefully, those backing your project won't notice how much they're actually spending to get the mine up and running. My boss certainly hasn't noticed the extra boxes of blast crystals I placed in your shipment. So, that's my part done. Now it's time for your end of the deal. She smirked, wondering what her hunter-drones had to do with the original crystal merchant. Whatever "tricky" meant probably wasn't pleasant, but she didn't have time to focus on that detail. The drone certainly meant the captain when he wrote about the boss. Technically speaking, the pack was ordered not to interfere with the hunt so early on. If the captain found out, he'd stop her without hesitation and drag her back to the hive as a failure. He'd have twenty pounds of blasting crystals to get through first, however. "Careful with those," she shouted at the slaves, "one wrong move and yesterday's landslide is going to seem like a sneeze compared to the damage those crystals can do." By the end of the day, everything would be in place for her ascension. She had only arrived yesterday, but she learned enough about Marblestop to know that those with masters would rise to her call. "I was born a slave," one young stallion had told her yesterday when she managed to catch him in the middle of his duties. "My mother became a slave when her debt grew too high. She traded her freedom for twenty years to pay off her debt, but died halfway through when she had me." The status passed on, and as soon as a child of a slave was old enough to work, they began working to pay off their parent's debts. That stallion had eight years left to give to his master. Two other mares Halfwing had passed after she arrived had it worse. The father died and the mother had to take care of their oldest sister. They were both sold for twenty years of labour to support their family. Halfwing didn't have to imagine the kind of mother who would do that to her daughters just to raise the strongest one. But, those ponies and all the others like them still needed leaders. Those would need to be consulted, to ensure they knew their part in her plan. Fortunately, there were plenty of slaves who were easily influenced into being the wardens for their kidnapped master. Halfwing stretched her legs and decided to head out for a walk. Mining procedures would go as planned. The slaves were already instructed to leave three boxes of the blasting crystals in reserve. Tonight, her drones will know where to pick it up. "Heading out sir?" One of the assistant overseers caught up to Tiger Iron on the way out of the mining camp. Halfwing waved the stallion away. "The office is stuffy as hell. Need to take a walk, and find a place to give a real prayer to the spirits." He nodded. "Alright, but be back quick. The construction crew's nervous enough as it is with all the blasting crystals lying around." "Well tell them to get over it," she barked back. "Mines use them all the time, and we don't lose more than a couple slaves now and then." Halfwing turned away from the concerned pony and hurried along the path out of the camp. The more she lingered the more questions that would be asked. The path faded away at a few places, expected from a dirt road. But she even though she didn't have enough time to study the forest, she could still find her way by scent. The pine trees were densest around where she had kidnapped the real Tiger Iron. Halfwing breathed in, taking in the scent of pony and pine leaves, following it off the path. She trod carefully as to not mark where she was going by making a trail of broken twigs. Finally, she followed the scent to a bear cave. It was an opening in the soft dirt with a gentle incline into the earth. Deep gashes in the roots of bushes revealed where a bear grabbed to pull itself up to the surface. But even its strong scent was long gone. Now it was a safe house, set up by the groundskeeper, for hunter-drones in the middle of a hunt. Halfwing slipped her head in and wiggled through the narrow gap. Though it once was meant for a bear, hunter-drones had long since narrowed it to be more concealed, and fit their more flexible forms. Tiger Iron, however, was not a narrow form, and his midsection threatened to get Halfwing stuck in the hole. It took more than just a little determination to force her way through. Once inside, the cave reached to her left before taking a sharp turn into a larger space on the right. "Shut up about it, they're coming back," a voice hissed from inside the cave. "You can ask them yourself if you're so curious." Halfwing prepared herself. She and a couple of her drones had approached the slaves last night about kidnapping Tiger Iron, but they did so in disguise as other ponies. She wondered what the slaves must have been thinking. Whatever their thoughts, she was certain they didn't expect Tiger Iron to be the pony walking into the cave. "Ask me what?" she said in her form's deeper voice. Each of them froze for a second, long enough for her to read the room. There were a few new scents in the dim cave, most likely friends that tagged along to get revenge on their master. But one of the ponies she had recruited the previous night radiated excitement from the crowd of eleven. He stuck his hoof out. "Ha!" he exclaimed. "I knew something was up. A random pony kidnapping Tiger Iron was too good to be true." "What the hell Eudia?" A stallion armed with a spear stepped forward. His scent was new to Halfwing. "You said a pony asked you to come out here." Most of the others darted their eyes between Halfwing and their prisoner, who was still tied up, and considerably more beaten up than he was when Halfwing left him. The mare the spear-holder barked at grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him back. However, her eyes were fixated on Halfwing. "Well, there's certainly a lot more of you than I remember," Halfwing mused. It was pleasant to watch the slaves recoil at her presence, and even more entertaining to smell the dread in the real Tiger Iron when recognized himself. Still, she kept her distance. The ponies outnumbered her, and in this confined space there was little chance of escaping before they caught up to her. So instead, Halfwing adopted a casual tone. "I guess a late-night visit was enough to make me seem suspicious. Or was it kidnapping your slave master?" The excited one placed himself beside the spear-holder. "Septarian, don't outright kill it. Imagine how much we'd be paid for capturing one." "Enough to pay for all our freedom, I know," he spear-holder growled. "You said you'd help us!" shouted the mare apparently named Eduia. "You, you're a Changeling, right? The same kind that the stories talk about?" "What? Of course it is!" The excited pony looked incredulously at Eudia. "I know it's dark, but that looks exactly like Tiger Iron." "And as Tiger Iron," Halfwing interrupted, "I've set in motion to free not only you but all the slaves in Marblestop." Like magic, those words stunned them. "That's impossible," one voice said. Other followed. "Can we even trust you?" The spear-holder, Halfwing noted his name was Septarian from what the excited pony said, levelled the point of his weapon, aiming it at Halfwing. "Your kind never involves us." Halfwing shrugged. "Maybe not, but times change." "And why would you bother changing things?" he asked in reply. Halfwing gave a genuine chortle. "You're kidding, right? Changing things is what I do, it's in the name Changeling." "You know what I mean," Septarian continued to press. "What do you get out of it?" Halfwing thought the same to herself for a moment. "An army willing to sacrifice a village full of slave masters to me. It's a lot more than I can get from hiding among your kind." Her bluntness threw off the spear-holder and energized the excited one even more than she thought was possible. "A revolt?" he exclaimed. "Oh, that's so much better than my plan." Septarian flicked his head over to him. "You gotta be joking Fireblood. You were the one who guessed it was a Changeling all along." The excited one, Fireblood apparently, just shrugged. "Like it said, time to change things up." "I can see you all might need more time to discuss this among yourselves." Halfwing took a step back to show she wasn't a threat. "I have other things I need to take care of. If you decide you want true freedom, however, gather at the phoenix temple at sundown." "Wait, what about this Tiger Iron?" The question came from the other slaves. But, Halfwing just waved the concern away. "You have time to talk about this. When you've made your choice, just leave him tied up. Even if he escapes, it'll be too late to stop the liberation anyway." She turned and left the ponies to discuss, finally letting herself grin at the flurry of emotions that danced along their magic. Though it was mostly fear, picking out the confusion and shred of hope made the delicate scents even more precious. No doubt they were still reeling from their encounter with Tiger Iron's replacement, and that was without knowing how important she really was. In truth, she wasn't certain they'd join in. But if they did, it would make controlling the village a lot easier in the future. It would be easy to blow up a few buildings with crystals and scare off the governor of Marblestop with her drones, like smacking a beehive with a rock. But making those bees settle down again, that was much tougher. Without other slaves backing her, she'd be fighting a much harder fight to control the village. She wanted complacent sheep, not fiery dogs. But whether she would get one or the other was up in the air until tonight. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "What do we do if they don't show?" Halfwing listened to the worries of her hunter-drones. They were the same as her own; if the ponies were too frightened of their masters to rise up, her pack would be spread too thin. But the hunt was in full motion now, and she had to shake off the doubt. "Continue like I planned. A box of crystals goes to the governor's mansion. Spread the rest across the village and attack the ponies fleeing in the streets." The one thing that would spread faster than her drones was panic. As soon as one pony saw a Changeling, word would spread. By daybreak, she expected most of the village would have cleared out on their boats. Her drones flew off. They had their tasks, and Halfwing had to stay behind and hope that the slaves would show up. She leaned back on a pile of pillows, one of many that circled a shrine to one of Marblestop's four patron spirits. Phoenix, the spirit of fire and rebirth, was a poet place to begin her ascension. Marble columns stretched up, holding the ceiling up but also displaying colourfully painted mosaics. They were stories of the phoenix, and why it was valued as the chief spirit in all of Marblestop. One story had a fire gleaming in the sky, raining down drops of fire that became phoenixes. The next showed nests in a forest, with trees burning around them. From the ashes, the painted earth became a volcano, red earth flowing over wet riverlands and forming mountains of stone. The final image rest on a small shrine. It looked nothing more than a stack of rocks, but at the top, it had a nest, a phoenix nest. Halfwing imagined that was when the Espera would tell ponies that Marblestop was built around a shrine to the phoenix. But this evening, there were no stories. Services had ended and the Espera had retired to her home beside the governor's mansion. Halfwing wondered what her origin story was. If the spirits of ponies were real, then which one was responsible for building the hive? Where did her kind come from? Halfwing shook the thought from her head. She could hear multiple hooves making their way toward the temple. They were tentative and swamped with nervous and excited emotions, and she didn't need to guess what they were coming to the temple for. She rose from the pillows and met the slaves at the entrance of the temple. They were perfectly punctual, arriving as the last flicker of sunlight had dipped underneath the horizon and the braziers dominated the night's light. "You, you're the other Tiger Iron, right?" The pony taking the lead was the one they called Septarian. Halfwing wasn't surprised. He looked the younger by a few years, a stallion at his prime with the muscles from hard labour to back his words. Halfwing looked down at her hooves. She actually forgot she had switched forms to bribe a couple militia guards to look away from her activities. She wasn't sure who she was mimicking, but her drones told her it was a rich merchant's wife. "I suppose it's not a hard guess, knowing what I am," Halfwing smirked. "I take it you're ready to fight for your freedom?" "We've got no other choice," Septarian answered. "Had to leave the real Tiger Iron behind, but we can't be sure he won't find a way out of that rope. If we fail, and it turns out he escaped, the penalty is death." She chuckled at his paranoia. Spending a day in another pony's body taught a lot, and she was certain the chubby stallion would never find a way to escape his bindings, even if he had a lifetime to work at them. Still, she didn't want to say anything that would lessen their conviction. "I picked a good batch then," she told them while gesturing with her hoof to follow. "I'll instruct you all on the plan while we walk. I have to meet up with some of my kind when the revolt starts, so we best hurry." They headed out of the village centre as quickly as they could without drawing attention. Marblestop was peaceful, but that didn't mean there weren't any militia patrolling the paved roads in order to keep the peace. They passed homes carved from marble slabs held together by caementine, each an independent manse. Though rough and filled with pebbles, the houses still had gardens surrounding them, with flowers and olive trees reaching all the way to the marble low walls that divided each piece of land. The way the slave looked at these houses, there was no doubt these gardens were maintained by slave labour. However, even the biggest of them had only space for three or four slaves, Halfwing estimated. Her revolution would need to begin somewhere much bigger. She had the places marked in her mind, however, it was still risky enough to scare away the ponies. Though most of the militia's garrisons and camps were outside the village, those who kept guard within the village stayed in small barracks throughout the village. Halfwing remembered the groundskeeper's lessons. Each soldier, according to him, had at least one slave to cook, clean, and maintain his weapons. Halfwing directed the ponies to take whichever barrack they wanted; there was more than enough for them to choose. "How will we know when to start?" Septarian asked as the last of the ponies snuck through the kitchen of a barrack. Halfwing smiled. "You'll hear it when it starts." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ It was a rebirth. The ponies' legend raged from the painted stone tiles onto the surface of Marblestop. The governor's mansion, cracked open by blasting crystals, tore apart under the weight of the revolting slaves. Like an infected cut, the ponies rushed into the body of the mansion and destroyed it from the inside. First, they took kitchen knives, then they took pony lives. The quickness of the fighting was more than Halfwing expected. It seemed clear now that a revolution was set to happen with or without her intervention. Slaves all over the village, even from parts her pack didn't destroy with crystals, rushed into the streets. They dragged their masters into the streets and beat them to death with stones and hammers. Many were stallions since males in Marblestop seemed to manage all the work done in the village. But, the slaves continued to the wives, burying them with their husbands, sometimes dead, but usually alive, and always after their delicate robes had been shredded from their bodies. The blasting crystals targeted only the marble of the mansion, and Marblestop used so little wood in its buildings that even the barracks would have had little fuel for fires. Nevertheless, her ears reshaped internally to the precision of an owl's, could pick up the sound of wooden tables and bolts of fabric being set on fire and thrown into pits. But something gnawed at Halfwing when they killed the children. The helpless foals were thrown into pits of fire that she had not planned to be there. She winced and instinctively looked at her right broken wing. "Princess!" How long had her hunter-drone been shouting at her? Mesmerized by the violence, all she could do was follow the drone's hoof and find what he was pointing at. Her pack was returning from their duties. Two drones from the commercial district by the river, three from the workshops of the middle-class housing. The slowest to return were the drones sent to destroy the homes of Marblestop's upper class. "What wrong with them?" She asked her drone. He stared back at her, completely confused. "You didn't hear it?" He reached out boldly and shook her to her senses. "They sent a warning call. Private guards put up a fight before they could escape." The news forced Halfwing into the right mindset. She felt like she had won just then. All it took was a single cracked blasting crystal to blow open the mansion, and then she thought the whole village would fall before her hooves. The militia was slow to respond; they were caught off guard by the sudden explosions, making them easy to ambush. But even though the streets lacked their presence, Marblestop's wealthiest had personal protection as well. Halfwing looked back down on the bloodied roads that cut through the village. "The slaves can free themselves now. Send out a call to all the drones to attack the wealthy districts." The hunter-drone nodded. His raised head and shot a shrill call through the smoky night air. No pony would hear the call, but it was perfect range for a Changeling's ears. Halfwing forced her magic into her ears, changing its inner listening components back into their natural form. She had missed the call for help by being too focused on listening to the violence throughout the village. "What should we do, Princess?" She was their leader and had to be seen the right way. She had every right to order her hunter-drones to attack without her, but Halfwing knew she was still young. The fighting experience was invaluable if the captain decided he wouldn't betray his orders. "How are you feeling?" She asked her drone. He smiled and changed his body with magic, stretching out new pegasi wings. "Don't worry about me, Princess. Had a big breakfast." She approved with a nod. "Then fly me there." The scene was more or less the same as before. Fires burned as slaves tore homes apart for the keys to shackles. Some found hammers instead and shattered their oppressors of both flesh and iron. But Halfwing realized it was happening slower. While elsewhere in the village the slaves moved unhindered from house to house, the fighting in the wealthy district was sluggish. Private guards rammed their shields against slaves, stopping them from massing together. Step by step, the slaves had to bleed their way from their beds to the freedom under the night sky. Halfwing took aim, careful not to leave her horn too close to her hunter-drone, lest she blind him with the light from a blast of her horn. She fired two bursts of magic, forcing some of the guards to lose their focus and find themselves overwhelmed by the slaves. Her drones needed little time to follow suit. Scream followed scream as ponies were dragged into unseen corners of houses to be fed on. Halfwing could smell the terror and adrenaline, common tastes as simple as a primitive rabbit's will to live. But the bittersweet anguish as ponies lost their friends and family painted their magic with multiple flavours of love. Halfwing signalled with her hoof to land by a fountain, encircled by large marble homes and gardens. It was a large pavilion for the wealthy neighbourhood, open with plenty of room to move. No doubt this was where the slaves were pushing toward, where there was space enough for their number to matter. She drank greedily from the flowing water. Despite the chaos, the laws of nature that the ponies managed to manipulate still worked, uncaring of whether ponies lived or were bleeding onto its painted ceramic tiles. She pulled her head from the fountain, grabbing a breath of air. The smoke was making the air hot and hard to breathe, she noted. Her drone dipped his head to take a drink as well but whirled around to the sound of approaching hooves. Halfwing followed his eyes to find a group of stallions, armed with spears and sticks, moving toward them. Instinctively her drone moved her back, putting his body between the ponies and Halfwing. His horn was prepared to launch magic, but only when they came out of the cover of smoke did Halfwing recognize them. "It's her!" the pony in the front called out. Septarian carried a spear with him, guiding the other ponies toward her. Though they were armed, their veins were flushed with fear instead of anger. She knew her hunter-drone smelled it too, or else he wouldn't have allowed them to approach. "What are you doing here?" she asked Septarian as he ran up to her. The stallion coughed as he tried to catch his breath. He tried speaking but needed a drink from the fountain before his throat allowed him to make any sound. "I'm not exactly sure," he said. "One of your kind came out of nowhere, changed into monsters and started killing ponies everywhere." "Monsters?" That puzzled Halfwing. Her drones had the freedom to fight among the slaves, and drain magic whenever they could, but killing so many ponies was a waste of prey. In any event, they all should have gathered in the wealthy district by now. "Where was this Changeling?" Septarian waved some of his fellow ponies over and they quickly chatted among each other. "It came onto the docks as an alligator, but once it hit the markets it was a manticore," he said. "We ran here because it's tearing a path of bodies strait to this side of the village." Halfwing felt her hunter-drone's hoove bump her shoulder. "Princess, it's him." Even when surrounded by fire, his skin was chilled by terror. "The captain's coming." She felt her own body twitch as her drone's fears passed onto her, but she clenched her teeth and suppressed the emotions. The fact that it was only one monster fighting in the village meant that the lieutenants weren't with him. They were giving her the benefit of the doubt and would support her as long as the night went smoothly. Which meant the pack would have to kill the captain. "Septarian, the other slaves are still fighting to escape their masters." Halfwing aimed her hoof at the down the street, toward the centre of the village. "Free your kind, and then we can deal with mine." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The smell of blood was so heavy Halfwing felt like she would choke on it. It didn't even drive her predatory appetite anymore, it only sickened her down to her stomach. It also didn't help her anxiety. Pony language had no way of describing the brutal savagery that was the captain's claws. Only Changelings could understand where such violence could come from, and for Halfwing, it reminded her of the birthing pits. It was the kind of violence that could drive Changelings to kill their own siblings at birth and make one sister mutilate another for the sake of a mother's pride. The captain was well within earshot now, and Halfwing could see all the ponies, slaves and soldiers, failing to fight for their lives. Corpse by corpse, their herd thinned, leaving the street bare. The captain's outline became clearer. His tail waved left and right so its strikes were unpredictable. And his mane, though soaked in blood, was still heavy and imposing. Halfwing knew she needed to make the first move or she'd be paralyzed with fear before the trap was sprung. "You look like you had quite the feast, captain," she shouted at him. "Ever experience this much fun by playing it safe?" The manticore crouched low and bounded forward, the silhouette growing faster than before. The tail that swayed gently before was now a whip, slashing the air as the captain's entire body shot toward Halfwing like a giant spring. Halfwing recoiled. He charged from the end of the street, but the pressure of his attacked turned the open area around the fountain into a cage. She felt like there was nowhere to go that he couldn't find her. A Changeling's scent was too unique to hide in a village ponies. So, even her pack would be helpless to save her. Her drone swooped from above as planned, but no doubt the captain smelled him long before showing up. Regardless, he shifted forms to tackle the captain as a bear. In a single arc, the captain's tail swooped up and cut her drone out from the air. Despite his extra mass, Halfwing's drone spun out of the way and landed in a pile of corpses. Two more from her pack bounded from the houses behind her in their natural forms, bearing spears from the guards of the rich ponies who had lived there. Effortlessly the captain swatted them aside with large hooked claws and was upon her in seconds. Halfwing exploded backwards, pulling herself away from the captain's attacks. But when it seemed she had evaded one attack, another swept from her blind spot. She rolled her head under and over the strikes from the left and right. Eventually, she began to stumble. The manticore's speed and power were beyond anything she could muster, and step after step, Halfwing found her movements slow and falter over the marble brick roads. "You disobeyed your Queen!" The captain's roar struck as hard as his paw. Halfwing was flying through the air the next moment. It was the closest she had ever been to flying by herself, followed by a sudden jolt from the impact with the ground. She couldn't tell the sky from the ground, everything was spinning in her head. But it took no time for the captain's tail to lash out and haul her up. "That injury has held you back, you've never been ready." Halfwing felt her bones shattering as he slammed her into the ground. "I'll drag you back to the hive myself!" The captain's voice sounded like it was being shouted into Halfwing's ears. Maybe it was, she couldn't tell. Her senses were completely lost. All she could do was hope that the others wouldn't be discouraged by her display of weakness. It was impossible for any hunter-drone to fight the captain. Halfwing felt that truth first-hoof, listening to the sharp slicing sound as his claws passed through the air. She rolled away and didn't stop, hoping to avoid even one of his strikes. It was useless to outmanoeuvre him, however. His senses were sharp, and even her entire pack was helpless to ambush him. Their scent was too strong; among ponies, they stuck out like splinters stuck under a hoof. Halfwing winced as she rolled into a marble wall, somehow wet despite the heat from the fires that the slaves had spread. She wondered how she managed to roll herself back to the fountain. But Halfwing knew her weaknesses going into this fight. Her drones had every reason to fear their captain, regardless of how much she commanded them. But the air was heavy with pony blood, and all their scents covered the captain's mouth and nose. Indeed, the reason why Changelings were so easy sniffed out in a crowd was because the scent of ponies was like a plain background to a painting. The smell of pony emotions was as common as air to Changelings, which is why Halfwing knew the captain wouldn't think twice about a few extra scents lingering around to muster their courage. When the blows to her body stopped, Halfwing knew her final pawns were in place. Her ears were ringing, but she still picked up the occasional ringing of metal as spear tips scratched the marble ground. The slaves she had freed were fighting for her now, a surprise that most certainly took the captain by surprise. Halfwing struggled to her hooves, leaning on the edge of the fountain of support. Everything was now visible, though extremely blurry. She made out twenty moving figures, surrounding a massive shadow that thrashed at its surroundings in a frenzy. A smile crawled across Halfwing's face. She could smell Changeling magic in the air, stronger than ever. The captain must have been bleeding heavily now, his blood taking some of his magic with it. Even better, she was able to pick out numerous spears coming out of the manticore, like picks chipping away at solid stone. If ponies were anything, they were physically strong. Their bodies were made of sinewy, corded muscle, and for every weapon they didn't have naturally, they made metals ones that were even better. Halfwing wanted to watch her mother's pawn crushed by her own, but suddenly the ground gave way and she felt herself slip. Only at the last minute did something catch her, just before her vision blurred away again and she went unconscious. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Halfwing rolled painfully from a pile of pillows. She could feel the bones of her pony form shifting inside. The room she was in was an unusual triangle shape. The ground was made of white polished marble, decorated with a crystal the size of a pea in the centre of each stone tile. "It's been a week, make a choice!" Who was outside? The better question was where was the rest of her pack. The last thing she remembered was the slave revolt. She didn't want to acknowledge the reality, but in her current condition, she was useless at defending herself. But at least some of her senses had returned to her. Halfwing sniffed the air. A number of herbs were around the room, the kind popularly used in pony medicines, oils too, along with a fruity smell that burned into Halfwing's nose. She refocused on the conversation outside. "We finally get to make our own decisions because of them. Is your first choice going to be committing murder?" Halfwing recognized Septarian's voice, though not the other, angrier one. "One of those things became a manticore and killed my friends!" No, we didn't. The memory came back now. The captain, her captain, had carved Marblestop bloody. But why? He could have attacked out of nowhere using surprise as her kind usually did. "That one was them too," Septarian defended against the other voice. "We don't know how different they are from us. They might be divided, the way we have villages." "Thousands are dead because of that manticore," she heard the other voice hiss through his teeth. "And while we were busy putting it down, who knows how many of the masters escaped on the docks?" Those words made Halfwing rise, despite the sharp pain inside her body. She needed the masters, they were going to be her haul to the hive. Losing so much in one day made their magic rich with emotions, and the fresh hope that everything would be fine was the sweetest part. There wasn't much left in her, but Halfwing knew she reforming into something else would heal at least some injuries. She reached for her magic. It was a natural feeling, but her injuries made it even harder than it should have been. In the end, Halfwing found herself as the pegasus she had practised with back in the nest. The bones still feel broken. How could I ever hope to grow back a wing? The effort took more out of her than she realized, and her legs began to tremble. Halfwing leaned, stumbling over her own hooves and collapsing back into her pillow pile. Both Septarian and the other voice stopped their conversation. "We'll talk about this at the meeting, Sugar Coal. But let me deal with them for now." Halfwing could hear Septaring coming through the door at the front corner of the room. It was another feat that impressed her: the hive was a messy cave with tunnels that took time to get used to, but for ponies, even in a completely foreign room, the design was made with purpose, and she could read it as easily as a scroll. She was too weak to bother meeting Septarian with a look as he walked in. He was dressed less like a slave now and more like one of the militia guards, though the leather and linen armour he wore was still a little loose in some places, evidence that it was taken from another stallion rather than made for him. "Heard something, are you alright?" He grabbed a cloth from a table in the back of the room and knelt beside her. It was wet and cold, pressing against her coat and skin. He looked her over. "You're different again." Halfwing only managed a weak nod. Did he have to state the obvious? "Does it hurt, doing it in your condition?" He rose and rushed back to the table, bringing back a tray of funny smelling herbs and tools. He lifted her right foreleg, and the pain made Halfwing wince. It wasn't just because of her missing wing, she felt him pulling off a bloody bandage from her bottom rib. With a knife, Septarian cut a fresh swath of cloth and spread it on the tray. He scooped a mix of herbal leaves and crushed them in a mortar and pestle, adding just a little bit of the fruity smelling liquid to turn it into a paste. He spread it on the bandage and brought it to her wound. "I don't know if your kind uses medicine like this," he warned, "but you should know that this is going to hurt before it feels better." He didn't give her a chance to ask, pressing the bandage against the gash below her rib. The pain was like being torn open again, and even her fatigue didn't stop her from open her mouth to scream. But again Septarian cut a thick swath of cloth, this time shoving it in her mouth. "Bite on that if you have to," he said. "The doctor who treated my pa always said it helps." He used the rest of the cloth to wrap the wound tightly, sticking it shut with a paste that smelled like tree sap. "Sorry we couldn't do anything about the bones," Septarian said as he returned the medical tray to its table, "but the other Changelings said not to worry about it." Halfwing instinctively tried to get up when he mentioned the others. They may have only been drones, but they were still part of her pack, and she was responsible for them. "Don't move like that!" Septarian rushed over to her so quickly she thought he was going to run her over. "The resin is still sticky, you need to give the bandage at least an hour before you move." Halfwing spat out the cloth. "How is my pack?" Septarian raised a brow. "A pack? What, like a satchel of some kind?" "No," Halfwing grunted. "The other Changelings, we travel in packs." "Oh, right," Septarian said, but he was hesitant to continue. "You don't have any right to withhold-" Septarian raised a hoof to cut off Halfwing. Any drone would never have had the gall to do something like that, but yet again the free will of every pony bent her expectations. He sighed and lowered his head. "I don't know how to tell you this so I'll just say it: we found two dead in their original bodies, and one's badly wounded in his pony form, like you." Two dead was a heavy blow. Minus the captain and lieutenants, there were eleven young hunter-drones in the pack. One of which had literally been by her side the whole time, carrying her weight whenever she needed him to. Halfwing replayed the fight with the captain in her mind. Her drone, her Carrier, was swatted out of the air like a fly. But he was a bear when it happened. If the ponies had found him as an injured drone, that meant he at least had enough strength to transform, a lot more strength than Halfwing had herself. There was no helping it. The dead couldn't be brought back, and if she didn't want add to her pack's losses, she needed to let her wounds heal. "Didn't think a slave would know how to be a doctor," she said to Septarian. "Thanks, but, I'm not really one," he replied, wiping his hooves clean of blood. "My pa was a unicorn, so when we fell into debt he was sold as a fighter. He got to stab and get stabbed for other ponies' amusement, and all I could do was replace his bandages until he died." Halfwing smirked. "Saw you carrying around a spear during the revolt. Are you sure bandaging was all you learned?" He did nothing but shrug. "Get some rest, Lady Changeling. That's a story that needs to be told when you're feeling better." He seemed confident in his work and bid farewell, leaving through the same door he entered. Lady Changeling? True, she was the only one out of her pack who took any female disguises, but the name still felt weird. Drones were asexual, the Queen being the sole being in the hive capable of the "female" duties that ponies had. As a result, the hive's culture had no use for the different titles ponies gave to mares and stallions. "Lady Changeling." Halfwing formed the words in her mouth. Her mouth. She had to laugh at herself. Despite trying to feel superior to ponies and above their petty titles, she still defined herself as every bit a lady as a mare would. It was a good replacement; letting the ponies know her true name would show her weakness, and bring her every bit closer to losing their respect and fear. Lady Changeling, that title suited her just fine. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Halfwing waved away another pony asking for his project to be funded. The theatre district, one of the largest symbols of the old masters' refined culture and wealth, was the most unpopular parts of the village. Hundreds of ponies were hesitant on rebuilding it, and she wasn't going to go against their wishes just for a slave who worked on the theatre's special effects. She sat back in her chair. The office that belonged to Tiger Iron had been torn down, replaced with a building of marble and caementine that was decorated with blue and gold paints inside. Halfwing wondered why the slaves would elect to give her this place. She was fine with having just the mine, its small tunnels had the comfort of a hive. But to the ponies, the thought of their idol living in a mine was inexcusable. Beside her, Carrier, her new captain, stood proudly. His body had healed stronger than ever surviving against the old captain. The rest of her pack stood guard on perches in the ceiling, their eyes spotting every detail of the room. After the death of the captain, some remaining lieutenants filled the ranks of her pack. Nine stood vigilant as Halfwing received more new. With Carrier by her side, ten fully fed Changelings made Halfwing feel like the strongest creature in Equestria. From the back entrance, one only her pack was allowed to use, another lieutenant came. They traded quick whispers, and her captain nodded. "The gemstone the ponies were working on is ready for its first test," he said. "They want you in the village to see it." Halfwing smirked. "No doubt Septarian wants an excuse to gain more favour. As if I haven't helped his ponies enough." "I might be for the best," Carrier replied. "He's in charge of the new militia, even if that is just an informal position for now." Halfwing rolled her eyes. "It's another barrier stone. Effective, but it's not something that will stop my sisters when they arrive." "If they arrive," Carrier tried encouraging her. "It's winter, your highness. When we came it was still warm enough to call it summer, yet none the others has come since then." "I know them, Carrier. They will." Her hunter-drone was not yet as wise as a true captain. He lacked their experience and her innate intelligence. Halfwing could feel her sisters barring down on her, no matter how far away they might be. Tenacity and Spectra, they tormented her endlessly since youth, taking away her prey when they were just hatchlings, knowing she couldn't fly higher to hunt the lizards that crawled up the cavern walls. And Majesta, who felt too mighty to give Halfwing anything more than a glance, she would never hesitate to pull an annoying thorn from her side. A heavy knock on the front door was followed hurriedly by a breathless pony. The stallion stormed in front of Halfwing so quickly, Carrier's horn glowed reflexively to guard against the threat. But he calmed when the pony threw himself on the marble tiles and prostrated before Halfwing. He kept his head pressed to the ground even as he spoke. "Lady Changeling, one of your Changelings found an empty trap across the river. He sent me to warn you about a threat." It was no coincidence her sisters would show up at this time. She spent every day since the revolt wondering when she'd be able to test her mettle against them. She realized she was smiling so wide at the pony that it made him disconcerted, but she didn't care. "Tell Septarian to finish up his toy and get the scouts ready." "Princess," Carrier advised again, "before you do anything, consider what he has to offer. He's not one to make false promises, even if a little exaggerated. A perfected barrier stone could be useful to whatever you plan to do." Halfwing sat silent for a moment. Everything the ponies could do far exceeded everything she had seen in the hive, but she still believed ponies had a long way to go to match Changeling magic. Regardless, their knowledge of trapping magical energy into crystals and gemstones was not something to be ignored. If what Septarian had been saying about this crystal was true, it would be the perfect thing to trap her sisters when as soon as they decided to enter her village. Halfwing nodded to her captain. It wouldn't hurt to take a look. No doubt her sisters would wait a few days anyway to survey Marblestop before they moved in themselves. That only gave a few days to prepare.