//------------------------------// // The Calm // Story: The Age of Hunting // by SwordTune //------------------------------// Morning breeze carried cold dew from the river through Riverfork. The flooding had reached its zenith and marked the middle of spring. Flowers bloomed on every bush and tree in the town and the countryside, painting the air with scents of nectar and the colour of their bright violet, pink, and orange petals. Buckets of dyes stained the walls of tailor shops. Orange robes had become the popular fashion once Marblestop's patron spirits had become favourites among young ponies. The exotic flair would die off in a few years, but this year, Marblestop's presence gave Riverfork a burst of energy. Every pony seemed more lively than ever before. Reiter removed his blinders and greeted the flower-painted rutilant sun cracking through his windowsill. He glanced to his left where Esilis wrapped her wings around his hoof. Her feathers were soft and fine, more delicate than a normal pegasus' feathers on account of their size. For an adult pegasus, they were small, but not so much so that they were like a filly's. Useful little things for handling delicate tools. He cast his eyes back out the window. Making an obsession with her deformity didn't feel right. Esilis might have accepted her life down from the clouds, but Reiter felt guilt whenever he looked at her wings. Such thoughts made him ask himself why they were together. A few months ago he still smiled on Lunti. They were childhood friends and more. They spent long afternoons together when their fathers would talk about the businesses in Riverfork, catching tadpoles from the river and guessing which duck swimming by the opposite shore would fly over to their side first to eat the crackers sailors threw overboard. What was Esilis compared to that? He closed his eyes. They knew each other for years, too. But he couldn't help but question if her wings gave her an exotic flair. She deserved some pony to care for her, not some pony who wanted her to look pretty on a pedestal. But going back to Lunti was impossible now. Being disowned by her father hurt her more than Reiter could repair. That didn't stop him from trying, at first. Even if Lunti slowly avoided talking to him, he still visited her when he could. When she found a townhouse for herself, he helped her move in. He'd buy speciality pies and scented candles from the market by the docks. However, there was a limit to how much Reiter to take. Lunti rarely smiled around him, and no matter what he did she pushed him away more and more. "You're awake," Esilis mumbled and pulled herself closer to him. "What are you thinking about." Reiter closed his eyes and breathed in the fresh spring air creeping through the window. "My father wants me to start looking for more investments. With how well Marina's workshop has turned out, I think he wants the family to get into the river trade." "Mmh," Esilis kissed the back of his neck. "Think about that later. I'm thinking about what we should have for breakfast." "I love how you focus on the important things in life," he smiled and turned around in bed, planting a kiss on her cheek. "I can get some biscuits and tea ready." "How about something heavier? Worked up an appetite last night." "Himbere's Boulangerie, then. A couple of fruit pies and muffins to start the day." Reiter leaned up and slid out from under the covers. "How you manage to make me happy all the time, I'll never know." They crawled out of bed and got dressed. Since they started being together, Esilis had been spending nights in Reiter's townhouse. Technically it was still in his father's name, but he spent most of his time in the town hall, so they didn't have to worry about privacy. The outfits his father's valet picked out for the two of them were a suit and dress made of matching green cotton with gold and orchid accents to compliment the spring. Reiter wore a broach of silver and emerald in the shape of an eight-spoke carriage wheel. Esilis had a necklace to compliment, though hers was specially made by Marina into the shape of a ram's head, with two large emeralds for its eyes. While they laced up their clothes, Reiter pulled on a cord of rope by the door to ring a bell in the kitchen. In a minute, his father's valet, Goodfrund, waited for them outside the room. "Hm, I knew I made the right decision," the valet said as he looked at the two of them. "Feels like it," Esilis said. He nodded approvingly. "Will you be going out this morning?" "Himbere's Boulangerie," Reiter said. "The Casual or Cruiser?" Goodfrund picked out two of Reiter's favourite carriages. The Cruiser was his own custom design, lined with enchanted crystals imported from northern villages and built by the best crafters from Marblestop. Even on cobbled roads, it drove silently, while a weather barrier spell created from a web of fifty tiny crystals kept the carriage's wood dry, even during heavy storms. At his father's request, Reiter also asked Marina to add plates of iron between the wood panels, allowing him to add special gems on each end of the axle that reduced the weight and friction caused by the heavier carriage. Reiter and his father had become one of the richest families in Riverfork, thanks to Marina's business and her ties to Marblestop. Even with the dragon's recent attacks, they still had the status, wealth, and power to direct the village. But, today was not a day to show off. Esilis was humble through and through. She enjoyed finer living, but to a point. Taking the Cruiser out on a simple breakfast was not necessary. The Casual was one of his father's private carriages; it was enough. "Not trying to make a scene today," Reiter told the valet. "Get a driver for the Casual." "Very measured of you, sir." He turned and smiled at Esilis. "I had a feeling you'd be a good influence, miss Esilis. I'll get the chef to get you two some tea while the driver pulls your carriage from the garage. With such good weather today, I don't expect it'll be more than twenty minutes." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The dragon's bindings loosened, finally. Weizenfauer heaved his heavy arms and his burdened tail and his cumbersome legs, but he could not move. Blood loss aside, he felt his strength sapped by the other two Changelings, who in their snake forms pumped what remained of his blood with toxins that kept him lethargic. Taking ten times the lethal dose for a family of ponies, Weizenfauer suspected he wasn't completely paralyzed was because his liver was mostly untouched by the Changeling inside him. Slithering out of a vein as a plump leech, a green light wrapped around the creature and she grew from it, covered in viscera. Halfwing climbed out of the gash in the dragon's back and licked her lips clean. She wore a wide smile, one too strong to go away even though her hooves were slick with blood and she could barely stand without slipping. The cavity in the dragon's back had been excavated to the point where she didn't need to transform into anything to stand in it. "Don't bother trying to burn us," she casually mocked the dragon as she licked herself clean. "Those organs of yours that make the fire, they were good. A bit like a venom sac in snakes, but full of magic too." Weizenfauer didn't say a word. He could smell his blood and the venom polluting it. But, he could also smell the compounds breaking down in his liver, curing his lethargy quicker than the Changelings could administer their fangs. He needed only to survive a little while longer. "Need to recharge?" asked her captain. "No, Carrier. The dragon's body is like a sponge of magical energy. There's a lot more of it in him than any other animal I've eaten." "Explains their resilience," Marina added. Halfwing nodded in agreement. She was working fast, worrying that their treatment of the blue dragon would kill him before she learned his anatomy. However, he continued to defy their expectation. His internal injuries grew by the minute as she sampled his unique organs. Beyond that, he still managed to show muscle function after absurdly large doses of snake venom. His tolerance for pain was unparalleled, Halfwing admitted. When she needed to test the dragon's muscle contraction, he had Marina shock the dragon by taking the form of a river eel that had electrical abilities. It worked, but without so much as a quiver of pain from the dragon's lips. If she wasn't so focused on learning as much as she could, Halfwing knew she'd be furious at his defiance. "But it won't matter," Halfwing said. "Apart from the hardgut, the digesting organs just look like larger versions of mammal or reptile ones. I already know how those fit into the body. The only thing that's left is the two hearts, I need to figure out how they work together." "I'll be surprised if he survives that," her captain said. "Still, even though I ate his adrenal glands, I'm worried he might have one last burst of life. After going through all this I thought he'd be dead, so there's no saying what might happen." "I'll pull out some spears and have them aimed at the throat, then," offered Marina. Halfwing accepted and let the lieutenant drone reused some of the spears they had placed in the dragon. "May I ask you something, Princess?" Halfwing turned to Carrier. "Go ahead." "I understand the benefit of understanding a dragon's form, but what are you going to use it for?" Halfwing smirked, smelling a hint of concern in her captain's magic. Her hate for her mother and her sisters were apparent; she never tried to conceal them. "Don't worry, I won't burn down the hive," she giggled. "I'm still young, but I know not to play with fire. I'll simply rule over Riverfork with this new form." He stared at her. "That village is protected. With all due respect, ours was not the only farm with those orange flowers. I'm sure this blue one would have attacked Riverfork if he could." Weizenfauer scoffed. "You went through all this trouble for that? Haha, it'll never work, little one." Halfwing ignored the comment. "That's just the long-term plan. It'll have to wait a few years before the ponies there think they're safe from dragons. I'll start by bringing the head of the dragon. That should make Mezza Forte a hero, but more importantly, reduce the production of the flowers." Marina grunted, tearing a spear out from a stubborn scale. "Will you consider working with the Marblestop settlement?" Carrier frowned. "You know I don't think that's a good idea, no matter how long you've been cultivating it." "Yes, but you're young for a captain, aren't you? I earned my title as one of Princess Spectra's lieutenants." Halfwing hissed, cutting into the conversation. "Do not mention her." Marina took a step out of Halfwing's way. "Fine. But consider it. They already know who you are." "I delivered one package in exchange for a book. That's all." "That package, Princess, carried vital information for the ponies of Marblestop. Information that they needed to guarantee that they will gain control of Riverfork's council." Halfwing considered the possibility. She wouldn't have control over the village directly, meaning no pony harvests like in Marblestop. But, that might be a better option. Keeping ponies locked up made their magic taste the same. It was a simple source of power, but she had acted too quickly back then. "You said you were working with connections among them," Halfwing told Marina. "Their plans are as much as your plans, right?" The drone dragged another spear out of the dragon's tail. "I wanted to make Riverfork more successful, in case," she paused and considered her words, "certain other Changelings returned to hunt. Marblestop's leadership is more deliberate, and could grow the village's economy better than the current council and their political games." "More ponies, more business, that also means more security," Halfwing added. "Easier to get spotted the more ponies there are." "Well, I'll leave you to figure out how to get around that," Marina said as she carried the spears over to the dragon's head. "But in a few years, they'll relax their guard. Given time, ponies always become docile and peaceful." The dragon finally reacted and chuckled at Marina. "Or, perhaps, they'll grow stronger than you could ever imagine, and then you will be ones who are hunted." "You're no different from them," Halfwing remarked, deciding to climb back up the dragon know that Marina was in her position. "You're my prey, just like everything else that lives in Equestria. Ponies and pony villages are just part of our hunting ground." "Cattle sometimes flee their pastures," countered Weizenfauer. Halfwing smeared her hoof with his blood and smiled as she licked it up. "And shepherds always bring them back." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Down by the river, a picnic of orange juice and three fine kinds of cheese were laid out over the green spring grass. Winter was harsher in the hills, so once the air warmed up, all kinds of plants were hungry to eat up the soil. Now the cold and flooded dirt was completely forgotten, replaced by weeks of rampant growth. And the same could be said for the pack. Three young drones, were off somewhere in the woods, training Spectra's first children by teaching them how to hunt game. She leaned back in her pony form, a mushroom gatherer who wandered too close to the nest one day. The groundskeeper sat next to her, drinking a cup of juice in the form of the gatherer's husband. It was unfortunate they had to kill them, the village's baked mushrooms have never been the same since, but at least they were useful disguises for wandering around the village. They came out to the village to talk about the new drones and needed no one to notice. "They're growing fast," the groundskeeper said. "They started smaller and softer than any of us expected, but now they're bigger than any hunter-drone their age." "Yep," Spectra nodded. The groundskeeper meant their carapaces. The chitin of her first drones was thinner, even peeling off when they were exposed to too much sunlight. But in just two days, each one of the drones doubled in size as they consumed the remains of their egg sacs. "I was born long after the Queen took control of the hive, but do you think this is normal? No drone has ever been born above ground before, and you're still new at it." Spectra cut out a slice of wax-wrapped cheese and scooped up a chunk of the soft treat with a cracker. "Your magic smells like you're worried about something else." "I looked over the notes about the mutations," he said. "Ah, there it is," Spectra smirked. "What's the problem? We turn into manticores and other monsters frequently." "There's no problem. Frankly, the Queen never said anything about this, so I'm not sure what to think. But I didn't think you'd use pony discoveries this much." Spectra cleared her mouth with a deep gulp of orange juice. "One of these days, my mother will pass on the mantle of Chrysalis. I don't think she expects us to follow her every step." "What do you mean?" "I mean, my sister Halfwing might be a little crazy from her childhood, but I think she did something all of us realized later." The groundskeeper levitated a cube of white cheese and nibbled on it mindlessly, more focused on Spectra's explanation. Respect for another Changeling's power was one thing, but this sounded almost like a compliment. "And what exactly do you think you've realized?" "That whoever controls ponies will control Equestria," Spectra answered. "The old way is hunting them, taking pieces of their work but never bothering to learn how they constantly build new things." She held up a piece of the cheese she was eating. "You know, I had a drone steal one of the lenses from the workshop. I wanted to finally know why cheese, out of so many pony foods, didn't disgust me." The groundskeeper laughed. "You mean you're disgusted by spinach and carrots?" Spectra glared. "Even I, a princess, was raised on the hive's diet. I hear your kind gets exposed to the surface at a much younger age. So yes, I had difficulty eating most pony foods. Even now, I'd rather not eat grains and vegetables." "Admitting to flaws," the groundskeeper clicked his tongue, "did motherhood make you wiser all of a sudden? Well, go on then, what does that pony lens have to do with anything?" "I'm just thinking about the future, now that I have a stake in it," Spectra said. "When I first used that crystal lens, I could see whole herds of small creatures in samples too small to even smell. Trumoss called them cells because they're like little rooms trapping living material inside of them, like a prison cell." "And when you stole one of those lenses, what did you see?" Spectra tossed the piece of cheese to the groundskeeper. "Smell it." "Smells like cheese," he said, unimpressed. Spectra rolled her eyes. "Okay, but there's magic in that smell, isn't there?" The groundskeeper took another whiff and nodded. There was definitely something faintly magical, though he wasn't sure what. Not even meat from a dead animal held onto magic for long, let alone when it was cooked. Milk itself had a lot less magic than an animal, and after the long process of turning into cheese, he couldn't imagine what was holding onto the magic. "The stronger the scent of the cheese," Spectra said, "the more of those little creatures I saw under the lens. There must hundreds if not thousands of things living in that one slice." The groundskeeper raised a brow. "That can't be right." "It is. And even if it's just knowledge about cheese, it's an understanding about the world I didn't have before until I used pony methods." He looked back at the slice and set it down. "You're right, they are weirdly innovative." "Because they're weak," Spectra explained. "For them to have survived this long takes a different way of looking at the world, one we might never fully grasp as predators. But that doesn't mean we can't learn from them." "So, these new drones of yours and their mutagens," the groundskeeper said, "they're your next step in Changeling progress?" Spectra shrugged. "Maybe. For now, it's a stepping stone to help me get a handle of growing drones. I'll have to test more mutagens in the future, and with a drone disguised at Trumoss's eldest daughter, we'll learn how to conduct his experiments on our own. After that, I'll see if anything we learn could be even more beneficial." The groundskeeper shook his head in disbelief. "Mutating Changelings on purpose, that's something I never expected to live to see." "Run a tight ship, and you might live to see more," Spectra said. "A tight ship?" "Oh, that's a Riverfork phrase, they deal with a lot of river vessels. It means to do good and organized work, I think. Not sure though, I never stayed on a boat for long." "Well, I don't know how to run a ship, but my nest is always organized," the groundskeeper smiled. "But don't expect to earn our loyalty so easily." "I know, I know. Queen before hive, hive before self," Spectra recited the sentiments each drone was expected to follow. The words came to her on the spot, but they might as well have been the mantra of every hunter-drone, especially the groundskeepers. "Don't brush it off after one victory, Spectra," the groundskeeper urged her. "The Queen picked us out as deviants from the hive. Any normal hunter-drone would go insane without a constant presence of their pack, but not groundskeepers." "Is that so?" "Our minds are different. We don't need the hive's command. That's why we can look after nests without any interaction with another creature for months, even years, and still stay in control of ourselves." "You're still not independent enough to disobey my mother," Spectra reminded him. "So why would I be so different as Queen?" The groundskeeper shrugged. "I don't know how I would feel if you became Queen. I just thought you should know that you might have to kill a few groundskeepers before you can rule over the hive." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ In total darkness, the sound of rock crumbling tipped off Carrier more than his vision. The dragon, just as Halfwing worried, did have one last reserve of strength, flicking his tail to bring down some cracked stone from the roof of his cavern before she could enter his heart. But the effort came too little, too late. Carrier guessed it was at least a few tons of stone, but Halfwing levitated the boulders as if they were paper. "You should have paid attention," she mocked the dragon one more time. "Your body is full of magic, even if you're not able to use it like I am." She tilted her head and let the rubble pile up in one corner of the cavern. "You can't win if you're giving me the power to fight back." She transformed back into a massive burrowing worm and returned to eating her way through to the hearts of the dragon. "All your plans, your efforts, do you think you have what it takes to be a dragon?" He rolled his eyes toward the drones, but neither answered back. "You stole your tricks from ponies. I know the hive is not clever enough to come up with something like this on its own." He grunted as the tissues near his chest split apart. "Another dragon will come, either for you or for me. I smelled the carnage in Marblestop, another dragon will smell what you are doing here." "Then we'll kill them too," Marina snapped, twisting one of the spears in his skin. "A few pieces of sharp metal seem to work fine." The dragon coughed, spitting blood onto the cavern floor. In the lightless bowel of the cave, the crimson splatter looked like a fluid black pit. "My only regret is that I won't be able to see what happens to you, to every rotten parasite that thinks it can drink dragon blood without paying the price." "If there really is a price on dragon blood, vials of it would be in Riverfork's markets by now," Marina mocked. "The price is the burden," he replied solemnly, "the burden of being King of All Beasts. That is a power that not even your precious Queen fully understands." Carrier scoffed. "I don't believe the Princess is going to consider being royalty an issue." The dragon paused, finally showing his weakened state by heaving a drained sigh. His voice deepened, speaking with more ease and flow between his words. "Du konn nicht einfich huntung. Der fluch das grarrenblotts, selbst du kannst dich nicht wervadlen." Marina made a face at the dragon's shift in speech. The guttural noises and croaks that reverberated from the end of his throat seemed to share some roots in the Changeling's tongue. A few words may have been close enough to guess their meaning, but she didn't have time to bother translating the ridiculously archaic and accented rambling of a dying dragon. "Stubborn beast," Carrier spat at him, "curse us all you like, I doubt superstition will save you. It hasn't helped the ponies, and they have had religion for centuries." A final warning left Weizenfauer's mouth as he wheezed, but with his accent and weakened murmuring, the Changelings could barely hear a word. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Reiter kicked a stone into the river and watched it hop four times before sinking. Esilis and Espera Voxa were talking about critical business details, a way to ensure success in their future plans, if they went through with it: the latest fashions from the east shore. Another rock tumbled into the water. His father was on board with the plan, mainly because it promised power and control over the core industries in Riverfork. Ever since the village became the new home to Marblestop, it had been the centre of river traffic, iron working, and skilled labour. The ponies who controlled those had more than just a little command over the state of Equestria. Even with the dragon nearby, Riverfork was still the focus of all business in the south. If it was made, grown, traded, used, or adorned, it went through Riverfork. But the council that was in charge of the village before remained the same. That was fine with Reiter and his father at first, they had friends in the council. But it quickly became apparent that business and trade at such a large scale was beyond what the old council could handle. So all the wealth of Reiter's family was now, in secret, thrown behind the movement to unite Riverfork under Marblestop's leadership. He looked over at Voxa and Esilis, stunned by both mares trying out outfits. He was loyal to Esilis, but no pony, male or female, could deny that the Espera had an outstanding figure. Her posture bolstered curves that made her light-rose coat glisten in the spring sun. Like most Marblestop ponies, she prefered robes and loose clothing. Unlike them, she enjoyed thin silks that blurred her natural body rather than cotton which covered it. Dressed to impress, Reiter thought to himself. He didn't want to admit it around Esilis, but he was nervous about the announcement they were about to make. His father was at the town hall right now, funding and influencing the council members to make their confidence in the village weaken. But, if Marblestop's Governor Seiris couldn't convince the council to give over control of commerce, Riverfork would tear itself apart in the division. Voxa sauntered over to Reiter, her silks sliding along her silhouette, and nudged his attention. "Are you sure you don't want a doublet for yourself?" "I'm not the one making a case to the council that they should step down," he shook his head. "They already don't like how we're controlling Riverfork with our investments." "Yet they still take your coin and help increase your profits," Voxa mused. "Of course they do. Money is money." "I haven't been to the council before," Esilis mumbled as she trotted over to Reiter and Voxa. She held up her hoof and shook around the loose silks Voxa had helped pick out for her. "Do you think this looks good?" Reiter couldn't help smiling as he eyed her. "I don't know why Voxa insisted on a new outfit, but it's working out for me." Voxa's hoof turned his glance away and to the council hall. "We're staging a transfer of power, Reiter," she told him. "You don't just wake up and do something like that in common clothes." Reiter furrowed his brows. "I'm the chief investor in half of the village's trading and transport. I don't think I own a single 'common' thing." "Think bigger," Voxa said with confidence. "Being rich doesn't make you rare." "That's why you two are here," Reiter said. "Three," Esilis said. Reiter looked to her, then followed her pointed hoof into the crowded market where a bright shiny spear poked its head out above the rows of customers bustling around. It was Marina, snapping at a few fillies and colts pushing their way in front of her. Voxa waved her over, though only laughed from a distance as Marina had to shove aside angry bartering merchants and farmers hauling around their products. "Such a triumphant return," the Espera chuckled when Marina reached the riverbank. "If you're free to laugh at my expense, can I assume we've already gained control of the council?" "We were on our way," Esilis said, taking Marina by the foreleg. "But we have to catch up while we walk. It's been too long since we talked." "Yes, we need to catch up on everything," Reiter added, walking on the other side of Marina. She looked back to Voxa, who was walking just behind them. "You didn't tell them where I went?" The mare shrugged. "Didn't want to worry them. They were bound to find out eventually, no matter the outcome." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Forested air once sprinkled with cool morning dew felt more like a damp wall in the afternoon. Spring's warmth was enough to heat up the water on the leaves, turning droplets into moisture that remained trapped by the dense roof of brambles and branches. Carrier huffed as he brought Halfwing over the last hurdle, dragging her weighted body up to the mouth of the cave. The Changeling princess immediately wretched, dumping half of the blood and viscera she had gorged on from the dragon. "Are you alright?" Her broken wing buzzed irritatedly and she growled. "I'm fine, just not used to eating so much." Halfwing shivered with each step she took back into the sunlight. Smelling the air, she picked up faint traces of owls and nocturnal rodents that were not around in the morning. There was no doubt about it, she had spent a full day of endless consumption, and still, most of the dragon's corpse still remained at the bottom of the cave. The dragon's resistance annoyed her. A Changeling, even herself and her sisters, would have died much sooner if they took that much damage to their organs. With the dragon's flesh and blood regurgitated, Halfwing's head started to think clearly again, and she considered the possibility that if she were to face another dragon, she would not be so lucky. In an open field, there was no chance her plan would work again. "We should start moving for Marblestop," Halfwing finally decided, after stretching herself out under the fresh, open sky. "Whatever Marina does at Riverfork will take time. Right now, I have what I need to drive Majesta and Spectra out of the hive." "You haven't tested the dragon's form, Princess," her captain reminded her. Halfwing nodded, reflexively looking at her broken wing. If nothing else, she hoped the dragon's powerful blood had the key to overcoming her mental block. Reconstituting a broken wing at her age should have been easy. Whenever a Changeling shifted forms, their body rebuilds itself. But losing her wing right after birth left a mental scar. No matter what she tried, her body simply could remember what it was like to have a wing on her left side. Magic, the energy that flowed through all life, burned her body as she focused. Halfwing's ichor boiled, expanding and cracking through her chitinous carapace with bright green vigour. Her old flesh burned off as magic stitched itself back together, wrapping the princess in layers of corded muscle. Even for the largest of reptiles, like the gators that lurked in the wetlands north of the hive, the transformation process went smoothly. The mass of any animal or monster was never too much for her magic. A full adult dragon, however, stood at an enormous scale. Carrier reacted when she collapsed, catching Halfwing before her exposed flesh hit the ground. Bone unevenly jutted out from muscle, sometimes growing faster than the flesh, and at other times not catching up and leaving limbs without any solid structure. Halfwing felt nothing when her magic burned off her captain, expelling him back against the wall of the dragon's cave. As her head hit the ground, she watched limp arms spasm into unnatural directions as their bones fit unevenly. She realized then that she had lost focus, allowed herself to let her instinct run wild and create a body it was never designed to create. With with whatever rudimentary lungs she had crafted, Halfwing breathed in deep, willing the broken muscle and sinew to burn away. Magic funnelled itself into her chest, taking her old melted organs and moulding them. The dragon's enormous hearts and the hard gut that digested gemstones, Halfwing set her mind to those tasks and those tasks only. Carrier watched with utter horror, the princess who commanded his mind laid on the dirt in the form of a pooling bundle of organs and muscle. But as a hunter drone, he willed himself to pay attention only to what he was ordered to do. He stood by her side and waited, watched, and waited some more. Layer by layer, Halfwing's new body began to pace itself and grow at a natural pace. The skin expanded to make room for new muscle, and the muscle slowed its growth to wait for blood vessels to energize it. Carrier watched the red highways of vertebrate blood crisscrossing all over Halfwing's soft skin fade away as the process repeated itself and thicked her bones and limbs. Scales crawled up, plate after plate of the strongest armour in the natural world. But compared to the arduous process of reassembling delicate organs, growing scales came as naturally as breathing. Halfwing's captain stepped back when the green light radiating from her skin faded. His wings shook. The scent of dragon emanated so strongly from her new body that he barely recognized the princess. She took her first full breath as a dragon and opened her eyes. Her captain looked completely different from her perspective. Simply raising her head made her tower over him. She didn't approach the size of the dragon she had killed, but that hardly mattered. Halfwing imagined she could easily topple a Marblestop house or turn Riverfork to ashes. Thinking about the blaze she could create surged something inside of her. She breathed and huffed pillars of smoke into the air. Reflexively, her jaw latched itself open and shot a jet of fire into the mouth of the cave. Carrier ducked out of the way, escaping the fire by the ends of his wings. "Is it everything you imagined?" he asked her when she calmed down. For the first time, she heard the buzzing of her own kind the way other creatures did. The rattling and clicking of the hard chitinous mouths itched at her senses. It took a moment of focus to recover herself and understand what her captain had said. "If even one adult dragon found the hive, the heart of our entire species would be burned alive in a day," she whispered as she flexed her claws. Halfwing stretched her head around and checked her back. One wing spread so wide its shadow darkened the forest around it. But she watched with disappointment when the only thing on the other side was a lonely joint jutting against her scales. The old wing hadn't even grown out, leaving a vestigial bone instead that rotated with each flap, hoping it would one day find a wing to attach itself to. "So that's how it is," she chuckled. "You should probably change back, Princess," her captain suggested, "I can fly you to Marblestop when you're lighter." Halfwing's pupils widened at Carrier's words, and the captain couldn't help but slink away at the overwhelming scent of adrenaline building up in her blood. "I don't want anyone stopping me," she thundered. Halfwing raised her head to the clouds and sucked in a gust of air. It amazed her that the dragon's sense of smell was superior even to hers. From the mountainside, a morning's walk away from Riverfork, she could sense the fishers hauling up fresh catches to feed their cats and dogs. She smelled the stench of ponies, the waste they threw out into the gutters of their village. She smelled the itching burn of the flowers. They decorated almost every home in Riverfork now that they were in bloom. And, of course, she smelled a salty and bitter tang in the air, an ichorous that could only belong to a Changeling. "Tenacity is here, hiding in Riverfork just like she planned. Go find her, then kill her. Get Marina to help you if you need it. I can go to Marblestop on my own." "We didn't sense her when we were in Riverfork," her captain replied, "how should I begin looking for her?" Idiot creature. Halfwing rolled her slitted eyes at her captain. "If Marina's plotting succeeded, the Marblestop settlement should have control over that village soon. They owe me a favour, and they will have the resources to flush out a Changeling." "And if I get there and she failed?" Halfwing shrugged. "Use the chaos to find her. If they failed, Riverfork won't take kindly to their guests' attempted coup, and a dragon won't be what burns the village to the ground." "So that's it then? We're to split up and spread ourselves even thinner?" She growled. "Are you challenging me?" "No," Carrier looked down. "I would never. But I can't let you take so much risk, not without thinking it over." Halfwing gently breathed, bemused by her drone's concerns. She hoped she had never looked so pathetic before. From the eyes of a dragon, the little drone truly was an insect, same as any other that scuttled and crawled and writhed around in the mud and filth. "What risks? I am a dragon. Do as I command, and forget about your worries. As long as you trust in me, the hive will have a future where it is worthy of the powers I have unlocked today." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Summer showed itself a little early this morning. It was a welcomed heat, signalling that the year had reached the late stages of spring. Farmers began to note that the river was receding, taking its gentle floods with it centimetres per day. Change was near. Ponies always talked about spring in that way. Spectra understood the sentiment, but never fully appreciated it. Change was a normal part of her life, a simple tool to get what she wanted. It never occurred to her that some changes could be so revolutionary that it went beyond its immediate uses. Her children walked behind her on the dirt paths throughout the Citrus Hills. Unlike Riverfork, the Hills were defined by sprawling orchards of orange and lemon trees, things that tasted sweet and sour to the ponies who cultivated them. "They eat these?" One of her young drones scrunched his face. "They smell like metal." His brother pushed him aside. "No, idiot. They're bitter, like the magic of that colt we took." "The one who kept crying? No, he tasted sugary." Spectra let them bicker, it was an important task for them to learn. Even among ponies, sibling rivalry was a common occurrence. The only difference was that pony siblings didn't try to kill each other seconds after they were born. And so they were ever populous because of it. That's what made Spectra wonder, and what made her hatch her new drones separately. The groundskeeper warned her that it'd let unfit drones poison the hive with weakness, but so far all of her children were strong and fast-growing. They were flawed, of course. That was the consequence of using mutagens at random. But they made up for it in other ways, chiefly by developing magical skills much faster. Only a week old, the two drones following her had mastered how to mask their form, even if their selection of creatures were limited to the animals that they could hunt. "Ponies are built for different things," Spectra explained, gesturing to one of the farmers working on the orchard they passed by. He waved back despite being so far away that it was impossible for him to make out who it was. "So they don't need to taste magic the way we do." "No wonder they're so stupid," one of them said. "Can't even tell we're Changelings." Spectra frowned and kicked a hind leg back at her child. "Don't you ever say that out loud, even if no one can hear you." The drone yelped at the bruising pain on his face but kept his head low. His brother, however, only laughed at him. By noon they reached the hills that overlooked the river. Muddy trails sprung from it like veins reaching inland, the last remnants of the soft flooding that brought water to the other hills and orchards. Further downstream, Spectra could see the home of Trumoss. Even after kidnapping his family and forcing him to produce mutagenic materials for her, the stallion remained quiet about the presence of Changelings in his village. Drones reported that he had become paranoid after he was given back his family. That impressed Spectra, even though he had no way of knowing she had kept his eldest daughter as a source of magic to feed on. A clever pony, Spectra doubted that even the drone masquerading as his daughter could steal mutagens without him noticing the missing amount. But as long as he was watched carefully, she let him shut himself up in his paranoia. "Is that it, Princess?" Her drone pointed to the house as she looked at it. "It doesn't seem so powerful." "Who are we to judge something by its looks?" she asked him. Her other child, still rubbing his chin from the pain, walk up next to his brother. "Our egg-memories showed us what the hive is like. I don't think a house that small can hold the future of our hive." She chuckled. "You and your siblings are the first Changelings ever born outside of the hive. As strong as we are, remember that weak creatures like ponies wouldn't be able to thrive the way they do without their ingenuity." "What's that mean?" Her drone said. "Ingenuity?" "It's their ability to create new things to solve problems that Changelings accept as facts of life," Spectra answered. "I thought I'd have to create drones the old way, with magic alone." She pointed to Turmoss's manse. "But because a pony up on that hill observed the smallest details of the surface world, I was able to use his knowledge and do something different. That's why you're all different from the captain and the groundskeeper." "Hm," her child grunted. "We can take more than just magic from ponies." "And we will," Spectra said, "but right now we have to meet up with your brother." They galloped down the hills, taking a dirt road that ponies frequented all the way to the soft sanded shore of the river. A ship waited, a proper one from Ironmarsh. The village was just a day north by flight, two days by boat. But for her new, mutant drones, those days were the line between childhood and adolescence. Her eldest drone, a flawed mutant, waved with a pegasus wing from the helm of the ship. He glided off and skimmed the air above the river, splashing his hooves in the water playfully before he landed on the patches of grass that mixed with the sand. "Brother!" The two younger drones galloped to their elder. "Do you still remember me?" asked one of them. "You left the day after I hatched." "Really? You must be a runt then." He laughed and pushed his younger brother over. "But I bet you're still bigger than the hive drones your age." "Enough playing," Spectra smirked, trotting up to her excitable children. "This is the captain of the ship? Not many pegasi live down on the surface." "Ironmarsh has a few mountains near it where the pegasi roost," her eldest explained. "This pegasus left his mountain to run a ship. Being able to clear the skies means bad weather can never touch his vessel." He gestured to the ship, a heavy river barge with wide decks for storing cargo. Three masts waved wide sails, but they weren't enough to make up for the ship's weight. Spectra wondered if anything could. It was clearly not designed with speed in mind. "Could carry a lot in that," she noted. "And the crew doesn't suspect anything?" "A few did," her drone replied, "the cook and quartermaster knew the captain well, so I did what the groundskeeper taught me and bought them plenty of the burning drinks that ponies like." "Wine?" Spectra clarified. "Yes, that. Tragically, those two got so drunk they fell off the ship and drowned. Held a funeral ceremony for good luck just before the ship disembarked." "Wow, you were busy this week!" one of his younger brothers said, pulling at his wing. "Stop that," Spectra grumbled at her childish drone, "and don't interrupt me." She refocused on her eldest. "But he's right, you've learned from the other hunter-drones well." "Does... does that mean I get a name?" Spectra raised a brow. "Only powerful captains get names in the hive. Not even my own captain has a name. Do you really think you're ready for one?" "I only think what you think, Princess." Her eldest drone eyed the grass beneath his hooves. The mutations clearly hadn't changed his hunter-drone psychology, Spectra noted. She had the freedom of mind to address her drones as her children if she wanted, but the relationship between drone and princess was nothing like the one between a princess and the Queen. Spectra wondered if it was right of her to acknowledge the request. Naming drones was a tradition not taken lightly. Hunter-drones were expendable, not as much as worker-drones, but they were still a faceless force for the hive. Names didn't matter unless you had the strength to prove you were unique. And her eldest drone was far from being a brute. His chief problem was the flaw in his true form. The mutations she used on him removed his horn and thinned his carapace. Magic was still available to him, but the magic only gathered to the crown of his head. Without the ability to collect his energy into a horn, his spells were dispersed and unfocused. But, his thin carapace helped him grow larger than any normal hunter-drone. His chitin shed easily, expanding rapidly and letting him pack more muscle and ichor, effectively making up for his magical disability with physical power. She sighed. "Oh, fine. I suppose you'll be captain of your brothers anyway. I name you Windcatcher, in honour of your first successful mission." Windcatcher's expression barely changed, but a rush of endorphins filled his veins. Drones rarely appreciated each other, so Spectra suspected her approval meant more to her drones than anything else. The air was saturated with Windcatcher's joy, smeared slightly by his younger brothers' envy. Some things never change. "Go back to the nest and tell the captain that any drone not infiltrating the village needs to report to me," she ordered her two younger drones. Without question or curiosity, her words connected something in their minds and their feelings toward their older brother vanished, replaced by a basic drive to fulfil their orders. They nodded to their princess and bolted back the way they came, still keeping their disguises as ponies so no one saw them flying back to the hive as Changelings. "What should I do?" Windcatcher asked. "Wait on the ship," she replied, "and throw a party for the crew. I want them all in one place." He nodded. "Should I give them wine too?" "As much as you have. Get them so drunk they won't notice us throw them over. I don't want a single pony on that ship when we sail south. We'll be raiding cottages and hamlets along the river to pick up ponies to feed on, and even one pony in the crew can figure out a way to ruin that plan." "South?" Windcatcher processed the information for a moment. "Is this a mission back home? Are we finally going to take the hive?" Spectra nodded. "By the time we reach Riverfork, you'll have enough brothers to divide into two packs, so pick your lieutenants wisely. From there, we'll take whatever prisoners we have and march south of the river to the hive. You'll finally meet your aunt Majesta."