I leaned against the wall as a yawn overtook my entire body. After today’s lessons, I was ready to just go to sleep.
‘Fuck magic training. Fuck combat training. Can’t I ever catch a break?’
“Prince Phasma,” Chrysalis called out from her study.
‘Nope, no breaks allowed. I’d be mad if it wasn’t for the fact that this works to my advantage.’
“Yes, Queen Chrysalis?” I asked as I slowly walked into her study. She was sitting behind her desk, staring at a report.
“Officer Katydid says that you are falling behind on your combat lessons. Far behind.”
I stiffened.
“I am?”
She looked up at me.
“You are not a warrior, however you are still expected to hold your own in battles. You did well in establishing the Ninth Legion to assist us, but they are merely drones. We are royalty, expected to not be a disappointment when it comes to fighting. After all, we are the embodiment of the Weave, the will of the hive made manifest.”
“I....”
“I am not blind to your efforts, Prince Phasma. You are failing not for lack of trying, but you are failing nonetheless. So, I have arranged for the forging of a new piece of wargear.”
My mouth dropped.
“Wargear? For my failures?”
“To make up for them. A warhammer, to utilize your raw magical strength when facing foes. I will concede that you may be too busy outmaneuvering the ponies on the entire warfront to maneuver the one standing in front of you. I need you to focus on the Legions and the war at large.”
She motioned to the fireplace on my right, and I looked over and saw a long box leaning against the couch. Picking it up with my levitation and opening it, I pulled out a warhammer made of the same lime green material as my Peytral which sat in my room. I had chosen not to wear that thing outside of ceremonies and the invasion itself.
It had a similar motif of thin lines and swirls around its head, its shaft made of an unknown wood. The two sides of the head had a ruby embedded on them.
“Since your studies have kept you away from the enchantment field of magical studies, I created this myself. With this hammer, shatter your foes. With your cunning, end them.”
I felt its smooth, cold surface. I could feel enchantments– weak as they were- slowly coursing through the strange, alien metal.
“You will begin using the hammer in training immediately. What you hold in your hooves is several expeditions worth of Adamantine, sourced from the Underhive itself. Your peytral, even moreso.”
“Don’t lose them, got it.”
“That would be most unwise. It also needs a name. All legendary weapons have one, and this is the hammer that will bring the end to Equestria.”
‘To further fear the changelings is redundant; to hate them, heretical. Yet ultimately, it was I who who set these events into motion, with a single blow from my hammer:’
“God-Splitter.”
The metal seemed to ripple as I named it in the Weave, and I knew intrinsically that this hammer was indeed named God-Splitter.
"You are dismissed."
Chrysalis returned to the report on her desk, but I wasn’t done. After all, I could gain something very useful from this conversation.
‘Now, to get you to check the vault’s contents.’
“Say, Mother. Has there ever been a changeling who could… see the Great Tapestry?”
“We are all part of the Great Tapestry, Prince Phasma.”
“I mean, really see it. During my… transition into a nymph, I had a strange vision. I saw the Threads, there was no mistaking them, as well as… Something else.”
Chrysalis sighed, “Do not waste my time with the nonsense that fills your mind when you slumb–”
“I spoke with a demon.”
Her attention was focused once again on myself.
“She claimed to be someone named Princess Luna, the sister of Princess Celestia.”
Chrysalis slowly straightened up and took a deep breath.
“What did this demon say?”
“She would be returning soon. Has there ever been a Princess Luna?”
Chrysalis was silent for a moment before speaking, “Yes.”
“Did, or rather does, she know about us changelings?”
“I doubt it.”
“Then how did she know what I was?” I lied.
‘I am paying a lot of secrets and information for this, but I do expect to get some in return…’
Chrysalis was silent for even longer now. Half a minute passed before she spoke again.
“Do not converse with this demon, and report whatever it says next time it speaks to you in your dreams.”
“My dreams? Does this demon normally speak to changelings in their dreams?”
“Princess Luna is known to walk the Dreamscape, a realm similar to the Weave.”
‘Just keep pressing and keep giving her reasons to check the vault tonight.’
“I see. Has there ever been a changeling who could walk such a realm as well?”
“I… am unsure. Return to your duties and leave this matter to me, Prince Phasma.”
“As you command, Queen Chrysalis. I will report any further contact with the demon.”
I returned to my chambers, laying God-Splitter against the wall by my bed. I would need what little rest I got before heading down and checking in on Oestridae in a few hours.
It was a few hours later that I heard Chrysalis return to her room after leaving the royal wing. I had my head pressed against my door to listen, and had been there ever since. I probably dozed off a dozen times.
For good measure, I waited another hour before opening the door and quietly walking out.
As I exited the wing, I nodded to the Praetorian on duty. An acquaintance I knew from shifting around the Royal Guard into the Praetorians. One of the few Praetorians I had the names of. Another, I knew for a fact, was on vault duty with Oestridae.
The throne room itself did not have any Praetorians during the night shift, only the main doors leading to the throne room, as well as the door to the royal wing.
You’d think with the paranoia that Chrysalis exudes, she would want the throne room filled with guards at all hours of the day. Regardless, I left the royal with a grumpy look and a fast pace as I headed towards the Savior’s doors. Confidence is how you get away with everything, after all.
‘If Chrysalis asks, I’ll just say I couldn’t sleep– mentions of demons, and all that– and that I figured I might as well pick up some paperwork from the empty Legions offices to fill out.’
I passed through the Savior doors without looking back at the Praetorians standing guard. Making my way through the hive was quite the change of pace. During the day, it was a constant buzz– heh, insect puns– of activity. At night, there was only the scant drone, usually a guard on patrol.
If they were confused why their Prince was wandering the halls at night, they had the awareness to not ask me. So, I made it to the vault without being stopped.
Not that I went in a straight line to the vault, no. I made sure I was seen heading towards the spire that held the Legion offices, before using empty side hallways to get all the way down to the base of the hive.
There, Oestridae was waiting. The other guard on duty, Praetorian Weevil, was a good lad. Friends with Coxa, as it turned out. The two were clutch-mates, having grown up in the same brood. They were as thick as thieves, and probably did no small amount of thieving during their time together.
It’s probably a universal law that every military organization has their fair share of cutthroats, the ones you go to when you need to get shit. I think in the US it was called the E-5 Mafia or something.
But my attention was not on either Oestridae or Weevil, it was on the door in between them. I saw the grand vault door for the first time, only openable by Queen Chrysalis. Circular, with a swirling pattern converging on a blue scorpion in the middle, Chrysalis’s sigil.
The door sat before me, between Oest and Weevil, opened.
‘Un-fucking-believable. Miracles exist, and alarms don’t.’
It didn’t look like it opened, but that’s because it was just slightly ajar. I might have even not noticed if it weren’t for the fact that Oest was waving me over.
Weevil looked only slightly confused, meaning Oest must have told him something.
“Good morning, Oest.”
“Hey Phasma.”
“My Prince.”
“Hello to you too, Praetorian Weevil. Coxa has told me a lot about you.”
“Whatever he said, it isn’t true. Unless you need something cheap, then it might be.”
“Right,” I mumbled as I looked at the door. “It’s really open?”
“Yes,” Oestridae helpfully confirmed.
“This isn’t a trick of the light? It’s really opened?”
“Your suspicions were correct, Phasma.”
In my sleep deprived-state, I mustered enough energy to be only just slightly paranoid about this. Something had finally gone my way! Month after month of hard work with no breaks at all were worth it, the universe had just thrown me the juiciest bone. Or, two, to be specific.
Two miracles. One, no alarm. Two, the vault locked itself after being shut, meaning Chrysalis just lazily closes it behind her. That second one is a double edged sword, as if it closes while I’m inside, I will be unable to leave until Chrysalis herself unlocks it.
That’s just a bit worse than being caught with my hand in the cookie jar. Just a bit. The vault was just a bit more important than a vessel for storing treats.
The Records Vault. Ever since its creation hundreds of years ago, it has held the most important commodity found within the hive: information. Never has any changeling other than a royal stepped hoof within it.
Furthermore, never has it been breached to the extent of my knowledge. It is guarded and locked shut with a massive vault door built with millennia old magic and with intertwining and unbreakable locks….
But today, I got lucky. The odds of my hopes being dashed were so high I didn’t want to think about them. I must have used up my entire life’s luck in scoring this, but I didn’t care. What mattered was the vault’s security.
With only the royals being capable– or rather, trained– in enchantment spells, there was not much time for discovering and practicing enchantments. As such, the vault, despite being the most enchanted object in the entire hive, was less secure than most Equestrian vaults.
To be specific, this vault lacked an enchantment that acted as an alarm that sounded when the vault was left open for too long. Perhaps it had one if the lock was tampered with, but I was not doing such a thing.
I have a piece of technology that cannot be beaten. A device created to crack the uncrackable, break open that which has never been pilfered, defeat all known levels of security that the vault possesses.
I have a doorstop.
One that Oestridae, as stealthily as he could, wedged into the door as Chrysalis left the vault.
‘Chrysalis would be tired after leaving the vault after such a long day. Even if she noticed the guards had changed since she entered, why would she care? She also apparently didn’t look back or make sure it was locked, or else I’d be having a very different conversation right now.’
There were no two ways about it: this is a Deus Ex Machina, it was only time to tell how much value it held.
Oest helped me pry the door open, with Weevil acting as lookout. Not that it mattered, the door was at the end of a long hallway, and if some ling came, I would have no valid excuse to be here.
The vault door swung open on quiet hinges, with us using our magic to help pull it open the rest of the way.
“Now, keep that doorstop in there, Oest. I’d rather not have my chitin peeled off layer by layer if Chrysalis finds out I was in there, simply because I locked myself in.”
“D’ya really think she’d do that, My Prince?” Weevil asked.
“No idea. Probably not, but I’d rather not take the chance and find out.”
“Go on in, Phasma, we’ll stay out here.”
I nodded to Oestridae, and headed inside. Oest closed the door behind me, remembering to put the wedge in the door so it didn’t close all the way. The door was closed in the first place just in case any ‘lings have reason to come down here, either on patrol or for some unexpected reason.
As I entered, lights started flickering on, starting close to me and working their way to the back of the room. The vault was a large room, filled with rows of shelves, each filled to the brim with books.
In the center, a simple table with a chair.
‘It’s gonna take days to trawl this place to find what I need. Now, if I were Chrysalis, where would I write down the fates of my children…?
Looking to my side, I saw a plinth where a small book lay. I trotted over and opened it up. It was an index of the vault.
‘That’s a fucking relief. Chrysalis didn’t memorize the contents of the vault by heart– or at least their location– and actually wrote down their locations. Or maybe her predecessors did.’
I skimmed through the different sections and picked out a few that caught my attention. Personal journals, reports on the death of notable changelings, historical records, and medical records.
There were sections dedicated to powerful spells, I could tell, but considering I was struggling to multicast even the basic spells, such lofty pursuits were beyond me. I had more pertinent things to focus on, anyways.
I collapsed in the chair. I had been skimming books for at least an hour and a half now. Exhaustion now permeated throughout my entire body.
I found some interesting things, like the fact that Chrysalis did in fact experiment on a lot of eggs in her time. Most never hatched. Mine did. There was a report on what exactly she did to me, but almost all of the technical jargon was beyond me.
‘Glad I’m not still-born. Still-hatched. Jeez, thanks mom.’
I found out that Chrysalis murdered her mother, Queen Sphecidae.
‘Not surprising. What else would kill a ruling changeling monarch? Matricide is totally within Chrysalis’s purview.’
Chrysalis detailed a number of her frequent activities. Chrysalis even wrote that she, on occasion, left the hive to go ‘play with the ponies.’
Her words, not mine.
‘She’s probably detailing all of this knowing that there’s a good chance her successor is her murderer. If all the monarchs hoarded their knowledge out of spite, we would know nothing about our own history. And if your successor had opened the vault, then you’re most likely dead already.’
‘It’s rather pragmatic, and totally in line with us royals.’
Most of the information in this vault was written during this Fourth Hive period. Some of the knowledge was ferried from the older hives, carried away during their collapses. The further back you get, the exponentially less survived. There is just one book from the First hive, written on a very high level enchantment spell that seven other books built on.
I learned I was also the first to breach the vault as never before had any changeling royal tried my method of breaking in. Almost every single one of them just outright removed the vault door at the beginning of their reign, and created and enchanted a new one to take its place.
That meant that they were not building on each other’s security, and while my method might not have worked in the past, Chrysalis neglected to plan for it this time. The opposite is true as well; something that would not work this time would have worked on a past iteration of the vault door.
I found other methods of extracting love.
They were not pleasant. Spells, Drills, lobotomization, the list went on.
I also found a mind control spell. I had said to myself that high-tier spells were beyond me, but I saw a book titled “Mind Manipulation,” and while its contents were above my skill level– far above– I decided that I might have use for it in the future. The far future.
If I ever lived to that point....
I had found the fates of my brothers and sisters.
Many did die as Chrysalis said they did. The most common method of death was during Underhive expeditions. We got a lot of our best materials and minerals from down there, so it was the princes’/princesses’ duty to bring that material back to the hive. Unfortunately, a lot of big bad nasties made those tunnels their homes.
The second most common cause of death was... Reprocessing. Many of these also had a note of rebelling just before their mysterious death.
That sounds vague, and these journals didn’t really use euphemisms. My best guess was that they were murdered and their bodies thrown into the acidic recycling vats.
‘So she does kill them. I figured that, though it’s nice to have it confirmed. It also means that she is absolutely capable of murdering me when convenient.’
‘This also removes any doubt that creating the Warrior Lodges is a bad idea. If she has a history of murdering her children, then I want a loyal powerbase within the hive to back me if it comes to blows.’
If. I still hadn’t decided if I was going to rebel or not.
‘On one hoof, she kills those who rebel. On the other, who’s to say she won’t kill me when we win? The best way to secure her own survival is to end mine.’
‘Is this my own overactive paranoia? If I am happy with second-in-command, which I sorta am, then she wouldn’t need to kill me. Would she think that, though?’
My mind was going in circles. In the end, I decided to prepare for the worst, and hope for the best.
‘This changes nothing. Create the Warrior Lodges. Secure the loyalty of the Legions. Create some plan for removing Chrysalis. Go through with the invasion. Somehow, avoid getting murdered. Find a better alternative to podding. Maybe Thorax can help. Really, I need another Deus Ex Machina for that, but that’s a problem for future me.’
I sighed and collapsed onto the desk. My dried out eyes were really stinging by this point, and my horn was aching something fierce from the levitation and spells I had used today.
‘This is no place for rest. I need to get back to my room before Chrysalis wakes up, and I have to come from the Legion offices first.’
I sat up straight and accidentally knocked a book off the table.
As I bent over to pick it up with my fetlocks– my horn was still hurting– I noticed some shapes on the ground beneath me. In fact, beneath the table was an entire mural.
Written in a spiral pattern were a series of symbols. Symbols I recognized, though only knew about four. They were the same symbols that decorated the tapestries and banners that hung in the throne room, the ones that Thorax had gushed on about.
I recognized the symbols for Magic, Emotion, and Change. A nine pointed star, a heart, and a double helix respectively. The rest, I did not know. They were a collection of everything from pictographs to what looked like greek letters.
‘Why is this here?’
I picked the book up, revealing the symbol for Together. The double helix popped up from the ground with a click.
I froze, though no alarm sounded.
‘No way. No fucking way.’
There were faint edges between the spirals of symbols, meeting at a point in the center, and a circle around the entire mural. It looked like a sealed aperture.
‘This is a puzzle lock. There is a vault within the vault.’
I had broken into the most secure room in the entire hive, only to find a smaller, more secure one inside.