267 Years Before The Promised Day
Princess Prochoerodes trotted up the grand hall before the throne room.
In the reflection of the shined stone she walked upon, she spied her own reflection. A tall changeling royal, she had her purple mane done in a single large braid. With each successful sortie into the Surface Tunnels, she let the hair grow out one more section longer. Her purple slitted eyes seemed to almost glow despite the natural light coming from the windows she walked past. She smiled, revealing the small fangs that accentuated her fierceness. In many ways, she resembled her Mother. That was not a groundbreaking development, as genetics goes.
Procho patiently waited as the vaunted Doors of The Saviour slowly swung open on creaking hinges. Instead of standing in awe of the majesty of the grand throne room before her, she trotted straight up to the throne. As she passed each pillar, the Royal Guards stationed at each saluted her.
When she finally arrived at the base of the dark blue throne, she bowed as her mother addressed her from atop her holy throne. Internally, Procho thought on the Blue Throne and its meaning.
‘The most rare and impossible to find metal in all of the Great Tapestry, and the Monarch of the Hive sits atop a mountain of it. From the works of countless Princes and Princesses, we assert our dominance over all. That’s one hell of a metaphor!’
Her mother’s voice echoed softly through the vaulted room as she spoke.
“Princess Procho. For many years you have honed your skill with your blade. The time has come for the ultimate test of your training. The last grand expedition to the Underhive was fifty eight years ago. Once again, the voyage must be made. I bestow upon you the honor of leading the great journey down to the very fabric of the Great Tapestry.”
Pocho’s voice wavered as she spoke, “I am beyond honored, Mother.”
“I order you not to fail. Take your team and gather the Mithril and Adamantium demanded, but do not fall in the Underhive. Your life is worth too much to the hive for you to die in the dark.”
“My Queen, you shall see that no mere monster can be my undoing–”
“Your pride shall nail your coffin shut. Heed my words Princess Procho; the Underhive is the ultimate test for any changeling monarch. It is there in those tunnels where Kings and Queens are made, and larvae are given up to Panarthropo. Too much pride in oneself will lead to ruin. You must never forget that in the Underhive, we are at the top of the food chain through wit and skill alone.”
“I will not fail you, Mother.”
“Go. Gather your team so that you may be honored before the hive.”
Midge packed the bag as well as she could. She knew its contents inside and out. With her eyes closed, she could remove each item piece by piece, knowing what they were, why she was bringing it, and could put them all back in the bag in the same order they were before she removed them. Midge knew intimately what she was going to carry on her back; if she didn’t, she’d be dead.
The same went for the rest of the team, though none took such fervor to the task as Midge did. Then again, none of them served as a distribution tracker prior to their enlistment. Midge had not chosen to be a vaunted Expeditionist during her nymph years. No, she was trained to keep track of love and its progress from raw collected to dilution to storage and all the way to distribution. That was not an easy task with only a small chalkboard to use. It was expected of her all the same.
“I’m telling you, it’ll fit. I’ll just jam it in as hard as possible, and it’ll fit!”
The one saying the poorly phrased exclamation was Termite. He was a ling that everyone kept at least four hooves length from. More if possible. Midge wasn’t sure how one could become an expert in demolitions given the scarcity of such explosive tools in the hive, yet he claimed to be the best in the hive.
Everyone feared that he was correct by default.
At the moment, he was trying to make room for several more explosives. They were four red sticks with pieces of fiber coming from the top. Termite had already loaded his personal pack with more explosives than Midge had ever seen in her life, but that was setting the bar low. In truth, she didn’t know at all if the team would be bringing enough for the expedition. In lack of a better option, they had to trust the fanatic demolitions expert.
Midge sighed, “Stop jostling the damned thing! Just set the pack on the ground– Slowly!– and I’ll put them in.”
None of the other four changelings in the room were willing to come near. Midge caught a glimpse of Lymph muttering to herself, likely a prayer to Panar. Anobii, Soleus, Gracilis, and Lymph were all standing around on the far side of the small locker room, each keeping at least one eye on Termite and his antics.
Termite put the pack on the ground but decided to hover over Midge’s shoulder as she opened it up and started removing the contents. Instead of telling him that it was rude to fly above a changeling and judge their every move, she instead got to work and reordered the contents of the bulging pack.
The black fiber of the backpacks were all sewn together from plants down in the Greencave. The material was as common as it got in the hive, given the lack of alternatives. What set the Expeditionists’ bulging, rectangular backpacks apart from any other in the hive was the presence of the chitin plating. Crafted from the parts of slain monsters in the Surface Tunnels, the lightweight plates would provide some protection to the pack’s contents. Aside from that, there was also the sheer size of the damn things. Each one at least half the size of a ling’s barrel, often larger. Not even the Royal Guards– from which each of them were recruited from– carried around such loathsome burdens.
That honor alone went to the “Hell Crawlers,” the group of unfortunate sons of bitches who had the unenviable duty of carrying out sorties into the Underhive. Not the Underhive proper, merely the Surface Tunnels. This highest layer of the gargantuan underground world was filled with monsters. Often enough, they got too close to the changeling hive sitting up here on the surface. Killing them before they could develop a taste for changelings was a necessary duty in the hive; one no one chose willingly.
“There. Now don’t go stuffing more shit in there, it’s filled to the brim. I don’t know why you have such a big load, but I hope you’re sure about using all of it. You’re the expert, right? Shouldn’t you know how to use your tools effectively, rather than having large amounts of them?”
“Would it kill you two to stop saying sexual innuendos?”
Midge turned and glared at the changeling who was sitting down against the wall on the opposite side of the room.
“Would it kill you to lend a hoof, Anobii?”
He quirked an eyebrow.
“Probably. You heard what happened to Termite’s mentor, right?”
Termite picked the pack up and placed it on his back, tying together the straps around his chest, barrel, and flanks. “Eh, that was a one time thing. The old ling got a little forgetful is all.”
“Hard to be more than a one time thing considering the fact that it took hours to finish scraping him off the walls.”
“I think it ran in the family,” Soleus added. “Rumor has it that he was Lieutenant-Colonel Acrid’s father. Poor sod, to watch your own son die…”
“That father thing’s just a rumor,” Gracilis shook her head, “but your death won't be if you stay too close to Termite.”
Midge scoffed at the twins and returned to her own pack. She was checking it over for the seventh time when the door to the room swung open. Immediately, all six lings jumped to a salute.
“At ease,” Princess Procho said as she entered the room.
She sauntered around the bench that lay between the two lines of lockers against the wall and stopped by the largest one at the end. Undoing a magical lock, she opened it and started pulling out her pack.
“We leave in fifteen for the ceremony, so I hope you’ve all said your goodbyes. If not, you’d better start running.”
“Please, Your highness, I think we all had enough socializing to last us the rest of our lives during that feast,” Anobii chuckled.
“I’d suffer that pre-ceremony feast again– murderous jealous looks and all– just to taste pure love once more,” Soleus mumbled.
“Don’t even think about it.”
“What? The fact that we’re carrying love in our backpacks? Come on Gracilis, give me a little more credit than that. If I eat all that now, what will I have to eat later?”
“That’s right,” Procho interrupted, “That love is all you're getting. So don’t even think about eating it pure. If you don’t dilute and ration it, you’re going to be left behind when you start slowing down due to starvation.”
This was the first time the rations that each team member was given were in fact pure love and not diluted portions. In addition, this was the first time that they would not be wearing the Royal Guard armor when heading down into the Surface Tunnels. It was deemed that the armor was worth more than their lives, and as such could not be afforded to be lost.
The one exception to this was the helmets. They were the same material as the Royal Guard’s armor, only far more sparse. They were pure black in color, with bright green lines forming the decorative patterns. They lacked the mandible guards that the normal Royal Guard helmets possessed, instead the helmets ended down where the muzzle met the neck. However, they did include an opening in the back for each changeling’s head fins. That was the one upgrade compared to the Royal Guard helmets.
Termite paused in his efforts of trying to tie the pack on, “Beggin’ your pardon My Princess, but that’s something I’ve been meaning to ask. How the hell are we expected to dilute the rations out in the expedition?”
Lymph spoke up, “There’ll be plenty of flora and fauna that is safe to consume. Rather, there is very little that would be toxic to us. Robust non-physical foods diet, and all that.”
Midge tied up the pack and took stock of the team. Soleus was whispering not-so-quietly to his sister Gracilis. Judging by the glares and huffs coming from Anobii, they must have been talking about him within earshot. Termite was slowly bouncing on his hooves, humming a tune to himself. Lymph was waiting patiently in front of her closed locker, looking at Princess Procho.
The Princess in question was finishing checking her gear and getting it all ready. Since she was larger than any other ling, her pack was sized up. More rations, more medical supplies, more chances of survival when things inevitably go wrong. Midge peered at the leather sheath strapped to Her Highness’s barrel. The blade it held would most certainly be far more potent of a weapon than anything Midge would ever get to use.
Everyone was calm. Despite the admittedly ridiculous levels of danger that they would soon be exposed to, everyone was a seasoned veteran. Even Lymph, the most unassuming of them all, had five sorties into the Surface Tunnels under her proverbial belt.
Well, Termite was as calm as he could be.
Princess Procho cleared her throat, catching the team’s attention.
“Right then. If everyone’s squared away then let’s ship out. Enjoy safety while you can lings, you’ll be getting none of it in the coming days.”
The lings formed two columns on either side of the bench that bisected the room. The twins took the front of either column, followed by Anobii and Midge on the right and Termite and Lymph on the left.
“Let’s get an early arrival. Move!”
Throughout the grand assembly hall, changelings were practically vibrating with excitement. To witness such a ceremony was often a highlight of a lowly drone’s life. Here today, they would witness something that happened once a generation, usually even less often than that.
The room was packed with changelings beyond count. A number buzzed in the air, unable to find space on the very walls themselves to witness the event. The far side of the room was occupied by the Royal Guard, who had formed a line against the energetic swarm.
Then, Queen Chrysalis strode out and onto the raised section of the room. After her followed the Princess of the hive and her chosen host. They numbered seven in total including Procho. The seven lined up in front of Chrysalis and after bowing to her, turned to face the crowd. Procho herself stood in the middle, with three on each of her sides.
When the Queen Spoke, the walls themselves shook.
“In defiance of our initial place beneath all under the Great Tapestry, once again I send forth the champion of the hive to conquer the greatest trial Panarthropo ever devised. Through trial by fire, Princess Prochoerodes shall bring the will of Panar to where no other being shall ever dear tread. I honor Prochoerodes as Proclimator, the voice of the hive itself! I honor the six champions alongside Proclimator Procho, who shall bring victory to the hive! As it is woven, so it shall be!”
The changeling stomped and cheered as the gathered seven saluted. Princess Procho, now with the additional title of Proclimator, drew Chela from its leather sheath at her side.
The large green Adamantium blade glowed purple in her magic grip as she raised it towards the crowd. It was a large wedge of metal, accompanied by a black half-circle guard around a grip bar. The grip itself could be wielded in either the mouth or wrapped in a fetlock, whichever the user preferred.
‘This is the blade that I shall use to cut down our foes,’ she said without words.
Behind her, Queen Chrysalis smiled.
Midge was fidgeting at the entrance to the final hall. She kept thinking over all the things that the team had been issued to them, mentally checking against a list of what they would need.
Procho noticed her hesitation, ”Don’t worry about the trip. Just think about what you’re going to do after. That’s the key.”
“I could have used that advice long ago, during my first sortie, My Princess.”
“Then it is a shame that I was ordered to hold the gate, and not be at the front lines where I was needed.”
The grate covering was opened by Princess Procho. However, before she entered, she paused and flicked an ear while looking around. The only other thing in sight was the entrance to the halfway before the Vault.
“Something wrong, My Princess?” Gracilis asked.
Procho shook her head. “It must be nothing.”
With that, she walked down the opened hole and the team followed her in. Once they were all past the threshold, she let the covering fall, swinging shut on the horizontal hinges connecting the faux trapdoor to the floor.
The tunnel immediately beneath was cold and poorly lit. Only the gemstones of the guard post up ahead lit the way as they descended a steep incline. They passed old, abandoned checkpoints as they went. The outcroppings in the floor were there only in the event of a breach, and all was quiet. As they neared the final checkpoint, the only one that was staffed, the hall gradually brightened up. The expedition team could now see the doors that stood in their path, as well as their guards.
Six Royal Guards, Commander Horntail herself, and the two pitiful souls who had been on watch duty that night all stood around the great gate. The gate itself, two massive slanted doors that formed an outward ‘V’ shape with the hive on the inside of their prow, was clamped shut by the iron braces that made up the connection between the two doors.
Horntail bowed to the Princess as she and her retinue approached. Immediately, the other eight changelings followed suit. Since they were facing up the ramp, their muzzles brushed against the dirty stone floor.
“Rise.”
As they did, Horntail smiled.
“Princess Prochoerodes, it is an honor to be here as witness to your expedition’s departure.”
“Queen Chrysalis couldn’t make it?”
“It is tradition that the Queen or King not be present for the departure.”
“... So it is.”
“By your command?”
“Open the gate!”
The Commander stepped aside as the other eight changelings each lifted a chain using their magic. The eight chains were all connected in a line across the middle of the doors, four for each one. They lined up and started walking up the ramp, pulling the chains along. As they heaved the massive metal links, the doors’ clamps opened, released by an opening command given by Princess Procho. It was taught to her yesterday by the Queen herself.
The three-hooves-thick doors loudly ground open, slowly being pulled into the walls. Beyond, the guard’s lights revealed that the ramp continued down for some time. The only difference between the ramp that led to the door and the tunnel beyond was the lack of periodic defenses.
There was also the scratch marks. Hundreds of them lined the walls.
“Lights on!”
Each member of the team activated enchanted gemstones that lay on the front of their helmets. The newly cast light shone down the tunnel, illuminating the space in front of them for about two hundred hooves. It failed to reach the end of the gaping tunnel.
“Farewell, Princess Procho. If you die, do so with dignity,” Commander Horntail said from her spot next to the Princess.
“Expeditionaries!” She called out in response.
“Here in death, remember our strength!” The team cheered in reply.
She led the way into the deep dark. The team followed in a V-shaped formation behind her, lighting the tunnel up. As she descended, Midge opted to ignore the countless grooves on the ground, walls, and even ceiling.
Behind them, the gates ground shut. The light from the guard station cut out when the doors clamped shut together.