//------------------------------// // Chapter 41: The Changeling Hive // Story: The Second Life of Moztrot // by CrackedInkWell //------------------------------// Even before the trek to the Hive of King Thorax, there were preparations to be done, to make sure that everypony I needed came with me. For the Magic Flute, which had gone from just a vaudeville act to the pinnacle of opera, I had to invite the best of the best from across the country. I invited the Crystal Empire Youth Orchestra and the Applewood Orchestra to take the first and second violin sections. The Fillydelphia Philharmonic for their violas and the Canterlot Philharmonic for the cellos. The brass section was made up from members of a combination of the Manehattan and Ponyville orchestras while Appaloosa took up the percussion. But as to the winds and the actors, however, that's where the Changelings were needed. Getting them together was only half of the challenge; the other half was to transport them, their instruments and their music from Canterlot to the Hive. Not only that, but the railroad could only take us part way. This means that carts of instruments, food, water, and other supplies had to be taken with us. Plus a row of carriages just to get everyone there on time. So in mid-April, the musical caravan came through the woods, the musicians going over their sections of the opera while I in my carriage passed the time reading the latest book called, “Beethoven Lives Upstairs.” (I got the book because it was written by the landmare who housed the composer.) With me in this confined space were Wilfred, Fan and Mr. Sauté; the butler and the cook looked out the windows as the forest went by while the maid was jotting a nocturne in her notebook. “So who’s coming to see the opera?” asked Mr. Sauté. “I mean, has the Changeling King told you about it?” “Apart from his own subjects, he is inviting the Princesses as well as a few other rulers from around the world – at least, those who can make the trip. Other than that, I have no idea who else will be coming.” I peeked my head out of the window. “Have any of you three been to the hive before?” They shook their heads. “Wolfgang,” Wilfred said, “not many ponies have seen the Hive. As far as I’m aware, the only ones to visit are the royal family and friends or students of Princess Twilight. So we’ve really no idea of what to expect.” “Hey, Mr. Moztrot,” I heard one of the coach drivers call out, so I leaned out of the window. “I think we’re here.” Down the road in a field of spring flowers of white, light purple and yellow was a towering structure covered in moss, vines, flowers, and climbing ivy. Never in the world had I ever seen anything like it. It was like an old, dark wooden tree where only the stump and trunk remained, the tower the only thing standing in a field of wild vegetation. “It’s… perfect!” I grinned. “I couldn’t ask for a better-” “Halt!” With a jolt, the caravan stopped, causing me to fall over. After I crawled out of the stagecoach, I found myself confronted by a dark purple creature similar to King Thorax, from his height to the moose horns on his head. “Why did you come to our kingdom?” he demanded. “Sorry, who are you?” “I’m the one that’s asking the questions! Now answer me, why did you bring this caravan to our kingdom?” Pulling out a scroll from my breast coat pocket, I presented it to the intimidating Changeling. “We were invited by King Thorax. I’m Mr. Moztrot, and this is the orchestra that is to perform in a few days.” His horn glowed a plum color as he levitated the scroll up to his face; he glanced between it and the line of carriages. “All of you?” I nodded. “This is indeed my brother’s seal…” he murmured before rolling it up and giving it back to me. “Go on through. Park these carriages around the hive.” “Thank you… Prince…?” He shook his head, “Pharynx, and it’s more Captain of the Guard then Prince. Now go on, my brother should be expecting you.” So after our caravan had circled around the tower, and we'd asked some of the Changelings where their king was, they showed me in. Up the garden tower, passing by the adorable creatures with a violin case on my back, I was told that I could find Thorax in a room known as the “Feelings Forum,” listening to his subjects. Eventually, I was guided to an oval space. It quickly became clear what the name meant as the King sat there in a circle with his subjects as a green, elderly-sounding Changeling with spectacles and a bandana was leading the conversation. “The best thing one should do is to speak the truth,” said the elder one. “Even if it’s painful, your friend will appreciate your gentle, firm but constructive criticism.” She then leaned over and spotted me. “Ah, another to join the forum?” Those assembled, king included, looked over towards me. “Oh! Mr. Moztrot,” Thorax got up on his hooves to greet me. “My apologies, I didn’t think you would be here until tomorrow.” “And I thought your kingdom would have been much further away,” I bowed my head in a respectful nod. “But I must say that the orchestra and I are really looking forward to this.” “Give me a sec,” he turned to the group. “I’m going to need a minute, so you guys go on without me. I’ll be back soon.” As he ushered me out and into another room to the side, I inquired, “Your court?” “Oh no. They’re not my advisers or anything. I’m part of a group in which we connect and give advice about problems involving our feelings and such. But anyway Mr. Moztrot, on behalf of the Hive, I welcome you.” “This is certainly a lively place, Your…” I looked up at him. “What should I call you?” “You can call me just Thorax.” “Well if that's the case then just call me Wolfgang. Or Wolfie if you like.” “Very well.” He smiled, “So Wolfie, I can tell that you’re excited. So are our actors and musicians at the chance to work with you. That said since you’re here, I was hoping you’d answer a question that has been bugging me for quite some time now.” While I chuckled at the word “bugging” I answered that he could ask freely. “Why did you choose the hive’s theater troupe? With the musicians that play the winds, I understand why, but how come our actors too? Don’t think I’m suspicious or anything, I mean, this is a first for us, putting on an opera. But I’m just curious is all.” “Do you remember when we met at the Music Festival in the Crystal Empire?” He said that he did. “Well, ever since you’ve shown me that not only could you change form, but even your voices, and that you have perfect memory like mine, to brush off such an opportunity would be completely foolish. After all, your subjects can easily transform into beings that I only dream about seeing and hearing. With my last opera, especially, we were limited in what we could do to bring this fantasy to life. The fact that you can change form and your voices is fantastic!” The king put a hoof over his withers, “You really think so?” “Of course,” I smiled. “Doesn’t everypony?” He looked at me for a long time, “You mean… no one told you?” “Told me what?” With a sigh, he began. “Mr. Moztrot, we Changelings have been made tremendous progress in international relations, but there are those who can’t look past who we were. You see, before I came to the throne, the Hive was ruled by Queen Chrysalis. She was what you might call greedy. Not for gold or gems, but for a food source: love. To her mindset, love was always to be taken by force. She was cruel and heartless, so much so, that she tried to invade Equestria, twice. After the first attempt, most ponies could only see us as nothing but monsters.” In a brilliant flash of green fire, he transformed into a curious creature like that of a large insect that had the form of a pony. It was black, thin with solid blue eyes, fangs, and holes in its legs, translucent tail and wings. “This, by the way,” he said, “is what we used to look like before we found out that it was possible to share love instead of taking it. Thus, we transformed into this.” And like that, he changed back. “But even after we... changed, there are those who won't accept us.” “And you think I might not, Your Highness?” I inquired. “I may not be familiar with what your tribe did in the past, but I look to you as a blank slate. For I personally have no quarrel with the Changelings; if anything, your race is nothing less than a wonder.” He raised an eyebrow, “Then how do you see us?” “Quite simply, everything that I think that our ponies could become one day.” “What do you mean?” “Where I came from, ponies were given titles and duties, not because of merit but simply they happened to be born into it. There was little hope of moving up from your position. However, I don’t believe that. I think that anyone, pony or no, can raise themselves up because of what talent and natural gifts they have. My Papa has taught me that, and I’m living proof. And I’m glad to see that it’s not just me or ponies that could do the same.” He gave me a tender smile, “Mr. Moztrot, you are indeed ahead of your time.” “Well it only helps to catch up,” I laughed, and he did so too. “So then, shall I introduce you to the cast you’ll be working with?” “Oh please do! I’ve made it this far to meet them, and hopefully, we can get to work right away.” Thus the Changeling King showed me the way towards what he called the “Auditorium” part of the Hive. It was a large, elongated bowl-shaped space that resembled the stadium from the Crystal Empire in its seating and the stage in the center. Yet, here this place looked as if it had occurred in nature, with the stones, vines, and moss everywhere. In the very center was a group of changelings, buzzing excitedly as they held the scores in their hooves. About thirty in all, they didn’t notice our arrival until their king cleared his throat. After Thorax introduced me to the troupe, a blue changeling came up to me. “Mr. Moztrot this… oh gosh, i-it’s such an honor having you here,” he said as he took my hoof to shake it. “I’m the director of this production, you can call me Antten.” “Pleasure,” I replied. “I can’t wait to meet the cast. So is this all of you?” He nodded, “Yes, and we’ve just assigned roles.” He introduced me to the actors and actresses. One by one, I shook hooves with those who would play Prince Tamino, the bird catcher Papageno, Princess Pamina, the Queen of the Night, Sarastro, the three hoofmaidens, the head slave Monostatos, the three foal-spirits, the speaker of the temple, its three priests, Papagena, the two armed sphinxes, three slaves and the chorus. After the King excused himself I turned towards them. “I hope that I’m not late for the rehearsal.” “Oh, not at all,” Antten told me. “We were about to do our warm-ups until you arrived.” “In that case...” I put my violin case down and asked, “Can I get everyone’s attention, please? Thank you. Firstly, I want to say that I am really looking forward to working with all of you. If anything, this is the absolute perfect opportunity to do something that no other production has ever done before. The very fact that all of you can shapeshift and change your voices means that we’ll have something that no other production has had: you’ll be able to recreate,” and I tapped my noodle, “what I see and hear in my head. If it’s true that you all have good memories, then we’ll be able to pull off The Magic Flute the way that I envisioned it, for the first time. We’ll show our audience that we’ve brought these characters to life. Now, I’ll let you tend to your exercises, and, with your permission Mr. Director, I’d like to tune my instrument, and their voices.” With that, I brought the violin up to my chin and began to tune it.