I hear… something…
A whisper, a tiny, trembling touch in the void around me. It’s… strange, different, too different. I can’t reach to it; I don’t know how to. But I must; this is no dream I feel.
My hope is to find a surviving child. Somewhere out there, someplace near or even someplace far. One that endured the fall, and endured the days apart. A weak, hopeless hope, but a hope, none the less.
I reach out, listening, trying to find what it is that bars me from the other. What wall lies between us, and how I might circumvent it..? A little more effort has me pressed against it, but no more.
Closer, I can just barely hear it, but…
It babbles. A fluster of emotions and words and ideas spill from it. As if it attempts to speak of an entire day in the span of moments. It is near incomprehensible.
…Is it mad? I can’t tell, too distant yet. But what mind would cause such ripples? So weak, and so many…
Who are you? I call out, hoping to find it respond to me.
I sense it change ever so slightly, but not much. Maybe it didn’t hear me?
Who are you!? I yell, and then it stops altogether. It listens, and listens very closely, perfectly silent.
Who are you? I call once more, wondering. It starts suddenly, surprised. Maybe a little fearful a first, but then curious, wondering.
“…Kill her!” an old voice yells, abruptly shattering my focus.
“I ain’t going ta!” Falls bellows back.
Arguments again, and at the worst moment too. The other mind is gone, possibly because I can’t focus with them bellowing. Why are they so loud? Potent emotion is present well, though anger is only present in Falls. The other one is more afraid.
Within my wrappings, I feel better, stronger. I’m healing, and a little faster than I would have guessed I would. Something the minotaur did I suppose. That’s good. Maybe I might even be able to walk soon.
The voices stopped at last, though no minotaur is coming to me. It seems a little strange. Falls or his wife always come by when I wake or soon after, but this time…
I hear hoofsteps now. I wonder if I should ask anything, and settle on a minor expression of frustration.
“It took you long,”
“Shut up.”
I pause, not recognizing the female that enters. First, she’s big, almost as big as Falls. Her fur is very black, and her face seems caught in a permanent scowl.
She stomps over, very obviously upset at having to be here altogether. “Falls asked me to come on by and help you out.” she explains, though it sounds more like she is complaining about it. “My name’s Ebony.”
I already do not like her. And as she works to unwrap me with all the tenderness of somepony handling rocks, I like her even less.
“That hurts!”
“Sorry.” she lies, only faintly softening her work, and thankfully finishing quickly. I look at my legs as she does. Broken chitin and exposed skin is there, but I can see some new growth. A week or so and I’ll have a whole new layer.
She hums, and picks a piece of chitin off, making me hiss at the sudden burn. I hiss a little more at her, baring my fangs at her. She doesn’t seem to care, eyeing the piece she holds.
“This looks like it doesn’t really belong.” she says.
“Don’t touch me.” I hiss, and hiss more when she looks at me. I feel threatened.
“This will go much better if you just lose all this.” she says, less a suggestion and more a declaration of intent.
“If you dare to,” I begin, only for her hand top lash out and seize my neck rather violently. She is just under the amount of pressure needed to snap my neck.
“Stay still.” she commands, and as the faintest twitch from me, her grip increases just faintly, a dire warning. Then she begins picking my legs free of their broken chitin while I stay still fearing she would crush my neck.
I am in agony when she finally finishes, only holding back tears so I don’t show this monster weakness. I can barely even hear her hum happily to herself and mention that my legs look a lot better before she picks up the bandages. My eyes widen on their own at that.
I am barely breathing as she finishes. This pain is almost as bad as when I first hit the ground. Almost. I stay still, my eyes shut, totally silent, pretending to be dead so she leaves. After a few checks to make sure I was really dead, she finally does. Just in case, I keep my breathing very shallow and slow.
She probably broke my legs. I’m probably crippled, I’d bet my neck is cracked from that terrifying grip she had. The pain would certainly lead me to that conclusion, and she has somehow wrapped me too tightly. I feel not enclosed, but squeezed.
“Chrysalis?”
…Falls?
“…Say somethin. Are ya alright there big girl? Come on, don’t do this ta me…”
I feel him touch me, and at his presence and his sudden touch, I gasp in sudden relief, shuddering in agony.
Falls yells as I start sobbing suddenly, trying to tell him that the bandages are too tight, that I’m in great pain, and that I really, really hate Ebony.
It takes some time for him to calm me down, but he eventually gets me to relax again, loosening the bandages and at least somewhat easing my pains.
And just as I begin relaxing again, the pain fading, he bellows “Ebony! Get in here!”
“Falls!” I yelp in sudden panic.
“Calm down there Chrys.” he murmurs, patting at my head. “I ain’t gonna let her do somethin stupid again. Ebony!”
As she enters, I stare at her with wide, fearful eyes. Falls is in front of me, and he seems protective at least…
“What were ya thinkin?” Falls asks her, a little accusatory.
“What?” she snaps back, defensive in her own right. “I did what you asked me to.”
“Ya hurt her.”
“Healing’s supposed to hurt. Her chitin was falling off anyway and just making it harder to wrap her up.”
“She’s not a minotaur Ebony. She’s a lot more delicate than we are.”
She snorts, and I open my mouth before stopping at her sudden glance. I do not have to be able to read emotions to see that threat. I stay silent.
“Fine then.” she huffs. “I’ll be delicate with little miss whiny.”
“Ya kin say sorry too.”
Ebony abruptly glares, hard, at Falls. Yet he doesn’t even flinch. “What?” she asks, her voice mad. She is raging inside.
“Apologize.” Falls repeats, staring back at her, though I cannot see his own expression.
I watch the pair, sensing the battle between them. Ebony’s will is bolstered by great anger, seemingly always angry at all times, and easily roused to rage. Yet Falls is simply there, unflinching, unchanging. Like the waterfall he is named after, nothing changes his chosen path.
“…I,” Ebony begins, though Fall’s cuts her off more or less instantly.
“I don’t want ta hear it.” Falls says, his voice curt, short, slightly angry. “I had jus about enough with all o you, ya hear me?”
…All of you?
“…” Ebony sighs, and though her anger is still present, there is something… not unlike understanding. “…Didn’t mean to give you more lava.” she mutters, sighing.
At her odd phrase, Falls sighs as well, relaxing slightly. “Chrys needs help, Ebony. An she’s a lot more delicate than us, maybe more delicate than a youngling. Ya gotta be careful with her, an listen; she knows herself best.”
Ebony nods, huffing faintly. “Alright, Falls, alright. I get it.” She looks to me, and though she lacks the same anger from before, she holds nothing resembling affection or care. “…You’re alright there? Didn’t mean to hurt you.”
I stare back at her, wondering if, perhaps, I would survive snapping at her. Falls is right there after all… Then I think twice.
Falls would not always be there, and there is a chance she would return to ‘help’ me. Best to be nice.
“…It wasn't so bad.” I say. “Are you going to listen a little more?”
“I don’t listen to my own children, but the next time you say something I might pay more attention.” she tells me. I think that’s the best I can get out of her. “You good now, Falls? I got younglings wanting fed.”
He nods, and she leaves. Falls turns back to me.
“I never want her doing anything with me ever again.” I tell him, and he seems caught between mild amusement and taking me seriously. “I mean it Falls!”
“Ebony’s jus a little sharp, Chrys.” Falls says. “She’ll get used ta ya in no time. She’s jus more used ta minotaur needin help, like me and my brother.”
I huff at that. Her caring for anything sounded ridiculous.
Falls pats at me, and even though I can feel his strength, I don’t feel afraid of it. He isn’t about to grab my neck and rip my chitin off of me.
“Actually, did she help any?” Falls asks, and at my look, he clarifies, “Does takin off broken… whatever it is help new stuff grow?”
“…Partly.” I mutter. “Chitin growth can be encouraged by the lack of old chitin, but only because the sensitive flesh underneath is exposed. And I’d sooner let it fall of naturally if you don’t mind.”
Falls nods, interested in the information and accepting of my request. “Sides that, how do you feel Chrys? Better, or worse, an I mean in general, not jus yer legs.”
“…I feel stronger.” I tell him. “I’m getting better, but Falls?”
“Yeah?”
“Chrys?” I ask him.
He nods, confused for a moment before working out what I meant. “If ya want me ta call you Chrysalis instead, that’s fine. It’s jus a nickname; makes a big name smaller, like Falls.”
… Another new feeling. Interesting, and maybe worrisome.
“You may continue to call me Chrys.” I tell him, a decision born of… I don’t know. A faint love for him? It feels like love, has a few of the same traits, but then, I know I do not love Falls. Or do I?
Like I said, worrisome.
Falls grins, and I feel the slightly increased care form him. And that weird little thing in me gets a little stronger in return. I almost feel happier seeing him happy.
I have got to find out what this is and then possibly kill it. I do not like what it is trying to tell me to do, and really don’t like its implications.
Ponies are one thing, but minotaur? Even past that, its normally me who lures them in, not the other way around. And then Falls has a wife, and knows who and what I am, and…
Oh, this is going to go bad someday, isn’t it? I’d bet I could change into a minotaur if I really wanted to…
…
Thank the mother. The idea of me transforming into a minotaur did not encourage me to want to go after Falls. Whatever this is, it is not potent enough to really be considered love.
On the other hoof, it does make me trust him greatly, and be willing to speak to him about things I would normally never speak about. Even allow him to behave in ways toward me I wouldn’t normally allow…
…
Maybe it’s just me changing? Trusting more, forgetting my old scars? Slowly becoming the queen that I wasn't? Letting others close to me, letting them act as they want to, letting their wants to at least share space with my own…
…
It feels so unsafe, yet, I feel better for it. It’s almost hard to let it happen, but I choose to do so. And thinking about it…
I haven’t heard from the ‘old me’ for a while, haven’t I?
… I wonder…
“Hey, Chrys?”
I start faintly, and refocus on Falls.
“Yer doin great.” he tells me, smiling. “An I’m here if ya ever need me, alright?”
I nod, and see him pick himself up and leave me once more. Then he pauses at the door, and looks back, curious.
“You happen ta be allergic ta anythin?” he asks me.
“…No.” I tell him, wondering.
He nods, and heads off, and I can see the idea in him, though I am unable to read it. It makes me feel curious. I haven’t felt curious for… well, ever since I first hatched really. The swarm were my eyes and ears, and there was so little that was a mystery to me.
For changelings, curiosity is not normally a good thing. It means you don’t know something, and things you don’t know can lead to discovery or worse. Commonly a warning sign that maybe you should leave and try again later.
However…
I can trust Falls. I want to change, and not be the same. I want to become who my children deserved. I’ll find myself fighting who I once was, and then fighting to enter these strange, unknown, changes in me. The ones that seem almost frightening, the ones I don’t know. I need to let them happen, and nurture them. Falls will aid me, and with him, I can,
“Obsidian?”
I look, and see Nugget near me again, Spark lingering near him. I have to drive them off, but curiosity compels me to wait, and listen first. As does a smaller thought in me, suggesting that maybe it would be… good practice for later. It’s just enough to make me hesitate, and listen.
“I made you a gift.” Nugget says, and holds up…what looks a little like a clay figurine that faintly resembles me. He has made it badly to say the least.
I should…
…
He waits for me to judge it, a faint hope that I would find it acceptable, a faint fear that I would not. He so dearly wishes that I will accept it, and with accepting it, that maybe I would accept him…
He still recalls how I pushed them away earlier, and wants to be closer. Wants that I smile at him. Spark has the same feelings, though his are more unformed, weaker, possibly due to his younger age.
They both look up to me somehow. Their earlier comments come to mind; do they possibly think me something powerful or simply inspiring?
…
I shouldn’t let the children close to me… I shouldn’t, I really, really shouldn’t…It’s so dangerous, they’re far too easy to twist, but…
…I so dearly want to…
“Thank you.” I tell him, and he beams, and I…
I feel torn in half over this. Half of me smiling back, happy to see him happy, seeing my children in his simple mind and face. Half of me terrified that I will do something to his tiny mind so easy to twist and manipulate.
He places it next to me, and moves back, still smiling. I think he’s waiting for me to say something more.
“…Let me rest.” I tell him, shifting and sighing. “Go play elsewhere.”
He nods, says, “Get better Obsidian” and then he and Spark hurry off, the sound of their little hooves soon fading.
I look at it again. Really, it could resemble any unicorn. It seems odd.
I would have once simply discarded it without a second thought. It’s not worth anything, and nearly counts as a waste of clay. I would have dismissed him outright actually, the moment I was aware of him being nearby.
But now, I find… something more in the lumpy figure. As though there is something about it that goes beyond form and make. Looking at it, I see him, and recall his eager nervousness as he waited for my opinion. I can see him making it, thinking about me and trying to make his clumsy hands form the clay properly. I wonder what he might have felt, making this…
…
I…
I can imagine how to use this. I can see his mind, see the working of it.
See how to use it.
My recovery is quick, and will be quicker soon from love gained, and young give love eagerly. I’ll stand on my own hooves soon enough, and then…
I look to the figure, and scowl. I see… unicorns in it, and in particular, a little purple one. A purple unicorn who’s eyes see too much, and who’s just stupid enough to have an unintentional way to identify ponies…
All my young, dead, by her hooves, I know it. Candance wouldn’t have come out unless she was there, she was there with the young alicorn during that moment… So many young dead by her magic, her and her friends…
My children! My swarm, my children, my precious, starving children, slain by them! I weep for their loss, for my pride that let her live, but I shall avenge them! In pony blood will the names of the fallen be inscribed, their cities crushed under my hooves… Or…
Or I could do something better. After all…
Minotaur have no love for ponies.
… A little manipulation is all I would need. They might even willingly fight for me and mine. And really…
I don’t want to drain them, or turn them into mindless drones. They’ve earned that I think. Of course, that will mean I recover slowly, and will be able to lay only a few if any eggs, but then, that gives me time to convince them to fight.
I glance at the figure again, and smile. A little thought, and it is placed nearby where it will be safe. Furry and strange, sure, but the little ones make me smile. They will be good practice for when I one day lay my own. And they shall aid me in convincing their parents to fight too.
I relax, gently shifting, feeling both my recovery and Ebony’s minor abuse to me. I smile a little more in my thoughts.
Seeing ponies fighting minotaur will no doubt be amusing.
And when Ebony shows her ‘care’ to those that slew my children…
I chuckle even now as I drift to sleep.