//------------------------------// // 08. | You Sent It My Way // Story: Crystals & Chitin // by Nytus //------------------------------// Had I known what I had just borne witness to, I am not sure if I would have made it out of the empire with my sanity intact. Honestly, I probably wouldn’t even have tried to escape at all, preferring to hide in the cave and slowly go mad from the knowledge that alicorns actually existed. As it was, I am not entirely convinced that I didn’t do just that once I found out. I had just finished encasing Miss Time in a feeding cocoon when a concussive blast of raw, ancient magic washed over us. It knocked me off my hooves with enough force that I briefly envied the young mare’s unconscious gel-encased state. By the queen! I don’t know which one of them did that, but it’s long past time to say goodbye to this horrible city. I lifted the young mare in my magic and floated her out through the cavern entrance before resting myself atop the cocoon, digging in with my hooves and lifting us both into the air with frantic wing beats. I made sure to keep as many objects between us and the city as I could. Rocks, trees, it didn’t matter. If I could have hidden behind a sleeping manticore, I would have. The last thing I wanted was to draw the attention of a victorious brainwashing tyrant with a literal city-sized army—or worse, the self-proclaimed nightmare who seemed to be beating him—at that moment. It seemed like it took hours to make my way down the short mountain path. Sure, I was technically flying, but I wasn’t really keen on gaining altitude and silhouetting myself against the sky. I followed the hoof path until it curved back toward the city, then made my own way down among the jagged rocks, straight toward the unnatural line that separated temperate conditions from a world blanketed in snow. I paused briefly, mere moments before I reached that border. But not because I was tired… The sky lit up like mid-day, even though the choking cloud cover Sombra put into place earlier made telling the exact time of day all but impossible. A brilliant and horrifying white light filled my vision, no matter where I turned my head, even if I closed my eyes—which I did almost immediately. When my vision cleared, the clouds were gone, and I could see that it was, in fact, close to noon. That troubled me momentarily. All right. I will admit, things happened incredibly fast today, but I am sure that more than a couple of hours has gone by since I abandoned my mission in the throne room. I am tired enough to be convinced that it should be nearly nightfall. I convinced myself that I was simply coming down off of a post-combat adrenaline rush, which persisted during a tense stealth extraction. I moved on quickly before I thought about it too much, making a point of not looking back. I was content that flight would be sufficient to deny any ground-based trackers, and the snowstorm we suddenly found ourselves in beyond the protection of the Crystal Heart would have made visual tracking equally tricky. Anypony who could have followed us would be far too much of a problem for me to overcome at that moment anyway. I carried my comatose prisoner in short flights of about an hour at a time. Infiltrators were highly trained, but we were generally not expected to retrieve physical food sources—that was menial drone work—and so I was unaccustomed to, and overtaxed by, the burden carried beneath me. That first night on my journey home, I was exhausted. It felt like I’d been awake for two days straight, but at least I was safely away from the empire. I made sure not to settle in for the night until that wretched city was a comfortable distance. We were probably still within the official imperial borders, but just the fact that I could see no trace of that blue crystal spire clawing at the sky behind us was good enough for now. I found a slight recession in the rocks of the foothills that, if one were incredibly generous, might be called a cave and deposited my cargo as far back into the outcropping as I could. Changeling mucus—once crafted into a chrysalis—was quite durable, but not overly useful as insulation. If I wasn’t careful, my charge could freeze before I got her back to the hive. “Well, Miss Time,” I said to the young mare, knowing she couldn’t hear me. “I’m sorry it ended up this way. I realize that you’re in no position to believe me, but over the past few months, I really did start to enjoy having you around. “I’d have preferred using you to recharge my crystals, grabbed that ridiculously powerful Heart of yours, and left you alive and well, if slightly colder, in your little schoolhouse with Warden.” Sighing, I crawled up on top of the green mass and looked down into her sleeping face before opening my mouth and inhaling deeply. A pale green mist began to seep from the eyes and mouth of the entombed pony I so recently shared a bedroom with. I drew in a small amount of her energy, feeding off whatever dream she was having in there. It felt wrong. As an infiltrator, bringing back at least one consolation prize was expected, even on a failed mission. I always knew that Double Time would be such a gift to the next generation. So why did I feel guilty? She’s a pony, I thought to myself for the… I wasn’t sure how many-ith time. She’s just a source of love. Nothing more. Once she’s presented to the queen, she’ll never be anything else. That felt wrong too. I cut off the flow of energy, taking in significantly less than most infiltrators would have. I reasoned that I would have to ration what she had available within her if I was to make it home, which was true. I used the new energy to restore my emergency combat capability, then curled up on top of the cocoon to get some rest. The warmth radiating up through the hardened shell lulled me to sleep despite the snow still whirling around beyond the impromptu shelter. I wasn’t sure how the war between the pony tribes had faired. There was still a significant snowstorm blustering about, but it was far from the enraged blizzard that howled around me on my journey north. I had seen evidence of at least one pegasus and shivered at the memory of the dark unicorn who defied Sombra—no small feat for a creature in chitin—but I had seen no evidence that earth ponies had come to aid the empire as well. Logic and combat doctrine led me to believe there was only one explanation: Princess Platinum and Commander Hurricane must have allied against the earth tribe. After their victory, they then marched north to annex the Crystal ponies after hearing Warden’s story. I wonder if that’s who I saw. Did Hurricane’s shadow pass over me in the streets? Was it Platinum who declared herself Sombra’s nightmare? That might explain her arrogance, but I didn’t think that snout-in-the-air mare had that kind of power. Convinced that the earth ponies had been soundly defeated, I plotted our return trip through lands which I knew to be former farming communities. Coming out of the Crystal Mountains, we spent a night near the massive waterfall the unicorns called Neighagra. There was evidence that ponies were drawn to the falls themselves, so I made sure to avoid the river and took great pains to hide our camp that night. Thankfully, the weather cleared up significantly once we left the mountain range behind. It was surprisingly pleasant to see grass again. My overall mood was improved, but each night as I made a new camp, my smile slid away from my face as I stared down at Double Time and fed for the following day’s energy. I decided to give a wide berth to the Canterhorn. My belief that the unicorns had come out on top seemed reinforced by the ivory city jutting out audaciously from the mountain top. I swung wide to the east through a seemingly untamed forest. I am sure the ponies had a name for it, but it wasn’t marked on my map. The only settlement east of the unicorn kingdom was an earth pony town called Hollow Shades. The village was deserted, just as I expected it to be. Not a single earth pony remained, and it looked for all the world as if it had been abandoned decades—if not centuries—ago. I chalked it up to nature, reclaiming what was hers at an accelerated pace within these dense woods. We stayed there for one night before moving on. The following morning I had barely taken to the air with the cocoon cradled between my hooves when a burst of colored light filled the sky, radiating from a singular point on the northern horizon. “The Crystal Heart,” I said, not knowing how I was so sure that the empire’s artifact was responsible. I stared at the multi-hued ribbons of light dancing across the sky for what seemed like hours but was likely only a few minutes before they dissipated. Nothing good can come from that, I thought. Such a flashy display of raw power must be Platinum’s experimentation with the Crystal Heart. I guess that means Sombra lost. “Good news, Miss Time," I said with a certain amount of sadness in my voice. "It seems your friends may have just woken up.” It’s just a shame that you won’t be joining them. Shaking the sentimental nonsense out of my head, I tightened my grip on the cocoon and flew off to the south. I had to briefly cross another mountain, but I angled myself in such a way as to quickly leave it behind us within a few short hours. By mid-day, however, I encountered something that caught me off guard. A metal box dragging several other metal boxes behind it screamed a high pitched whine as it barreled toward us, following a road made of metal strips and wooden beams. It charged by without slowing down and without leaving the unusual road. Within most of the boxes were ponies! Dozens of them, of all three tribes, were sitting on plush-looking chairs. Is that some sort of war machine? Why would the nation controlling it not segregate the tribes? Were the earth ponies servants to the other two? That would explain why they were permitted to sit among them. I decided not to follow the metal road for fear of being discovered by another pony-mover. Instead, I quickly crossed the unusual path and made my way toward the next cluster of unnamed mountains. These, too, I discovered, had metal roads along the foothills, but I was able to find a suitable shelter higher up the slope. All in all, I made significantly better progress without the snow slowing me down, even with the additional baggage slung between my hooves as I flew along. What had taken me two months before the Wendigos were defeated took barely three weeks on the return trip. “Beyond this river and the woods on the far side of it lies the Badlands," I said to the still-unconscious mare. "In three days… well, in three days, I will be home. You’ll… feed the hive.” The forest was home to a pair of pony towns between the river and the Badlands, though: Hoofington and Colton. Both of which were quite familiar to me. In essence, Colton was traditionally where all aspiring infiltrators are first introduced to their prey, while Hoofington was often an advanced course before declaring a new infiltrator. They were both tiny little hamlets that were easy to spy upon, even for complete novices, but Hoofington had more hoof traffic and traded significantly with outsiders. It became fairly apparent, though, that we would not be stopping by for a visit. As I approached the sleepy little homestead, I caught the distinct gleam of highly polished armor. Two ponies in full battle dress were walking side by side down the only street, one with impressive white wings poking through his peytral, and the other had a slender horn protruding from her helmet. Pegasi and unicorns wearing the same armor... Just how deep did the alliance go? Did Platinum and Hurricane join their clans? Rather than risk discovery, I decided to spend the night in the small clearing the hive customarily used as a base camp when training young ones. It was extremely overgrown and looked as if it hadn’t been used in a very long time. I supposed that made sense. With the Wendigo blizzard raging and the nearby earth pony villages being depleted for their battle against the other two tribes, there would be almost no reason to risk the next generation’s safety with such a dangerous excursion. True, I hadn’t heard that the princesses were discontinuing practical training, but it didn’t strike me as unreasonable. As I lay there, once again curled atop the dozens of sticky green layers separating myself from Double Time’s unmoving form, I tried to accomplish the impossible: rest while remaining alert. Typically, young ones sleeping here would have been protected by the princess responsible for training them, as well as several armored guard drones based on the size of the expedition. The campsite was as safe as the hive itself as far as the lives of the prospective infiltrators were concerned, but I didn’t have that luxury. I was the one who had to stand guard while still recuperating my strength for the next day’s travels. These woods were familiar and even seemed peaceful, but the reality was that there was no way anypony—or anyling for that matter—should ever assume them to be safe. Manticores, chimeras, as well as the occasional cockatrice, could be found among these trees, depending on the season. You couldn’t even rule out hydras, because the forest turned into swampland just a day or so southeast of the clearing. The only nice thing that could be said about them would be the lack of timber wolves. So I lay there, eyes closed but listening intently to the various wildlife of the evening forest. I wasn’t trying to pick up any new sound; instead, I was paying attention to any of the existing noises which might suddenly go silent. Thankfully, the night was uneventful, but my vigil left me sluggish the next day, which could explain how things went south so quickly… I reached the edge of the badlands shortly after mid-day. I dove into a ravine, which would shield me from sight for several hours along my route back to the hive. This segment of my journey was so close, so familiar that I progressed without needing to think about where I was going. I caught myself nearly dozing off a few times as I found a comfortable pace. Each time I did so, my wings would slow and I’d jerk awake due to the brief loss of altitude. Outrage. Self-confidence. Urgency. These emotions assaulted me, merely a heartbeat or two before the changelings did. From the walls of the gorge on either side of me, numerous green bolts of energy came flying out at me. I counted four hostiles to my left and three more along the wall to my right. Looking up, I could see another drone, likely one of the hive’s perimeter scouts, overseeing the ambush from the ridgeline. Morons! I haven’t been gone so long that the hive guard should have forgotten me. I’m going to report this to the queen— Another barrage of emerald rage flashed out at me, interrupting my train of thought. As an aside, yes, I do now know what a train is. That first encounter with one left quite an impression, so I made sure to learn what I could about them as soon as I had the time to do so. That opportunity came quite a while after this point in the story, but I figured clarification may be in order, considering I previously referred to them as metal boxes. The term ‘train of thought,’ as an expression, wouldn’t make much sense otherwise. The initial surprise attack must have been a warning. Where the first volley missed and impacted the rocks around me, this second wave of energized pain struck true. I was simultaneously slammed by seven missiles. Most impacted my natural armor, doing little more than knocking the air from my lungs and singeing my otherwise beautiful carapace. However, one lucky shot tore through my wing, sending my unconscious cargo and I plummeting to the floor of the ravine. I landed hard on my side, hearing a sickening snap as well as a wet squelch and crack upon impact. I lifted myself up halfway before collapsing to the ground again. Looking down, I saw that I had landed on an upthrust stone, which now had black chips of chitin decorating it as well as a fluid that I didn't want to acknowledge. I reached a hoof under myself and felt the jagged edge of a full-on puncture through my carapace. I gasped for breath as I crawled behind a boulder, hoping it would serve as a temporary shelter. Immediately, I drew as much magic as I could to seal off the breach in my exoskeleton. I was forced to leave Double Time’s cocoon where it landed, hoping that the guards wouldn’t attack her just to flush me out—not that I was in a position to do anything else with the sticky green pony-sized lump of love. She was far safer than I was at that moment. “By the queen! Who ordered you to harass a returning infiltrator?” I yelled out to them once I was able to form words. “Stand down! I’m Carina, returning from the Crystal Empire.” There was a pregnant pause. I couldn’t hear what the border patrol might be saying to one another, but doctrine would dictate the need to verify my claim and identity. “Stay there. Move even one hoof, and we will present your prisoner and your carcass to the queen ourselves.” I took that moment to call up some of my own stored energy to start mending my wounds. The initial blast tore a hole right through the membrane of my wing, but my less than graceful landing did far more significant damage. My already injured wing had bent beneath me upon impact, snapping the cuticle that held my weight aloft. There was also a visible puncture in my chitin, just below my left foreleg, which caused my breathing to hitch whenever I moved my hoof. I didn’t even want to start speculating about internal injuries. Well, that’s just great, I complained to myself as I increased the flow of magic substantially. At least I am close to home. This would be difficult to repair on my own. I am definitely stopping off at the feeding pool after reporting to Sarosa. “All right. Step out of hiding, imposter, and leave your little pony snack where it is,” the one on the ridge finally shouted back to me. “It now belongs to us.” Imposter? It had taken them perhaps a quarter of an hour to respond, just enough time to reduce the severity of my injuries from ‘potentially life-threatening’ to somewhere around ‘maybe you shouldn’t be on your hooves for a while.’ “Who are you calling an imposter, grub?” I replied. “I demand to see Queen Sarosa immediately! I’ll have your flank for this insult. I was personally assigned this mission, you—” “So one of the traitors fancies calling herself a queen now, does she? Well, Queen Chrysalis has issued no such mission to the Crystal Empire. However, I have no doubt that she would absolutely love to hear all about her new rival. Why don’t you come with us, we’ll have a nice little chat. I insist.” Disgust. Condescension. Deciet. Nice try, but if you plan to lie to an infiltrator, perhaps you should learn to mask your emotions first, amateur. But what was that about traitors? Queen Chrysalis? Did something happen to Sarosa while I was away!? Was I too late? Did the queen starve before I could return? No. No, that isn’t right… the queen would be the last to fall. She’d be fed long before these guards would be, and I don’t recall there being a Princess Chrysalis. I risked poking my head up from the rudimentary cover of the boulder long enough to focus my attention on the scout. I hadn’t noticed the details in my half-asleep state, but now that pain and adrenaline had served to wake me up, I could make out numerous small inconsistencies. The scout was bulkier than a drone from my hive had any reason to be, and she lacked the carina ridge of cartilage found across her wing plates, which were so common among Serosa’s children—a distinctive feature for which I was named. She had glossy black plates with notable silver highlights within her chitin, and the pattern of her leg holes was utterly foreign to me. Realization set in and robbed me of my breath just as surely as any sucking chest wound could have... This is no longer my hive.