//------------------------------//
// Chapter 45 
// Story: Don't Bug Me 
// by Starscribe 
//------------------------------//

It was carved entirely into the face of a vast sandstone formation, contained beneath a curved, vaulted ceiling. Its externally-facing buildings were blended expertly into the rock, matching the color perfectly and with very narrow windows. But as they approached, she saw the vast space behind them—many streets and levels stacked on each other. There were few walkways connecting them, but why would there have to be?

Now she understood the use of the word “swarm.” She could think of no other way to describe the constant activity she saw, like looking into an open beehive. Thousands of changelings moved in that city—carrying things, working in sunlit courtyards, or just walked along the walls from place to place. 

The city was a true hive, continuing down into the earth like a termite mound. A constant breeze of cold air drifted out towards them, carrying with it the scent of many, many bugs. She had smelled it before, when turning over logs in the woods, and scattering whole communities of insects from beneath. 

It didn't disgust her the way it had then.

Her awe was apparently the appropriate reaction. Pachu'a let the two of them stand and stare for as long as they wanted, taking in the incredible scope. His body flashed, and suddenly the tattooed hunter was beside them again. "Go no closer in disguise," he said. "If it pleases you, strange queen. Civilized bugs do not hide their faces from each other. We change only when we require the powers of another body, or while hunting."

So much for looking small and unintimidating. Amie sighed, then dismissed her illusion. Her brother did the same a few seconds later. At least they were still far enough that the whole city didn't stop to stare. "How do you keep such a secret? Ponies must've found you by now."

"No pony ever travels here," Pachu'a answered. "And we accept no guests from other tribes whose location we do not also know. If some vile creature turned against all standards of cooperation and mutual benefit—it would be fierce, devastating war. And it would probably fail besides. We have taken measures in Equestrian society, guiding them away from this place and others like it."

"Nobody wants to live out here," Pavati added. "Ponies don't appreciate the heat. Without a shelter like ours, they never stay long. Their towns are small. But we watch for explorers, make sure they go somewhere else."

Amie could hardly imagine the scale of maintaining such a conspiracy. Not quite on the level of faking a moon landing, but—how many hunters did it take to keep a city this big fed?

"We would never betray your trust," Amie said. "Your help saved our lives. We want only peace and cooperation with our... cousins."

Pachu'a nodded. "If we thought otherwise, I would've left you to the ponies to discover and punish. But the Elders are... hopeful of what you represent. Your brother's nature could mean a change for all tribes, if we understand him."

Soon they reached the city proper, entering through one of many doors cut into the rock. Amie's hunter escort radiated annoyance at having to walk inside, rather than fly. But no number of angry looks would teach her and her brother to fly.

The city was even more impressive from inside. It was organized like nothing she'd ever seen—every structure built on each other, with a dense connecting spine traveling to each building. Through it flowed water, waste, and electricity. If visiting Agate was like stepping into the past of her own civilization, Sonoma was seeing the way aliens might build. 

Amie knew nothing of civics or city planning, so she couldn't really tell what they were looking at exactly. But there were very few private areas, no homes or apartments she could see. Every building had multiple entrances and exits, and traffic passed through them all.

At least they had some familiar things. There was plenty of art—rich woven blankets and tapestries, sparkling jewelry of semi-precious stones, and of course the tattoos. Almost everyone was naked, displaying the tattoos along their bodies with pride. There were themes to each group, though she didn't know enough to tell them apart. 

There was music too, echoing from many parts of the city at once. She heard woodwinds and drums mostly, mixed with rhythmic chanting. Maybe she was imagining things, but the working bugs seemed to move along to the music, surging forward when it rose, and slowing down when it ebbed.

As Pachu'a had said, she saw many bugs tending to the young. They looked—nothing like children. There were eggs, crawling things somewhere between her and a maggot—then the bugs she guessed were their kids.

The hunters led them steadily downward through the city. Wherever they went, bugs stopped what they were doing to stare at Amie. They parted respectfully ahead of her, and sometimes even bowed. Amie felt their shock and amazement at every junction and street. Some of that was for her, but just as much was for Wes—maybe even more of it. They'd seen visiting queens before, but not whatever kind of bug he represented.

Finally they reached deep underground, beyond the touch of the sun. The air here was cooler, and perpetually damp with condensation. It soothed her aching body after a long journey, made her sigh with subtle relief. This was the climate bugs were meant to live in. Damp and warm. What did that make her, a cockroach?

The city continued into a series of mazelike burrows, taking them around and backwards and up again in a way that seemed deliberately calculated to confuse her.

"How does anyone get around?" Amie asked. "There are no signs or addresses in this place. It can't be efficient to memorize it all."

"Smell," Pavati answered. "Every job has its scents. The nursery, workshops, hospital... each one is different. Every bug can follow."

But not her. There were many smells here, invisible trails crossing in every direction. Amie could tell them apart, but that didn't mean she would be able to follow one.

Finally they came to a fine stone facade, covered in glittering green... glass? It looked softer, and had its own smell. The bugs had carved many intricate patterns into it, with similar styles to the ones they used on their tattoos. There was only one doorway here, wide and perpetually open. 

"The Elders are inside," Pachu'a said. "Given that we walked all the way down here, I don't doubt they will be waiting for you. They already knew the date of our arrival, so there is no need to announce you." He gestured inside, but Amie didn't obey. 

"Is there anything we should know before we go in? We don't know any of your rules. We might be able to follow your customs if you tell us what they are."

“The Elders do not expect much from formalities,” he began. “They are older than any other bugs in Sonoma, hence their name. That age has given them wisdom you can’t imagine. Each of them has gone blind, but in payment for that sacrifice, they have gained another kind of sight.”

He lowered his voice, glancing nervously to either side. “It is no secret, yet it is not something to be discussed lightly. These bugs can see into the future. They are the reason I was in Agate at the right moment to find you. Their magic is without equal in all the world.”

Amie grinned, waiting for the punchline. It didn’t come. Pachu'a just stared back, expression resolved. She sensed only the same total confidence he always radiated. He believed what he said.

“How does that work?” Wes asked. “Does everything they see always happen? Can they guess which finger I’ll hold up?”

The hunter shook his head sharply. “They feel only the general shape of the future. Yet their visions are not absolute, or they would serve only to torment us. Their foresight gives us a direction to aim, and shows what we should change. They did not tell me another swarm of changelings had arrived—they told me that I could prevent much suffering if I traveled into the mountains. When I left, we imagined it was our own. We were wrong.”

Amie and Wes shared a look. Wes’s skepticism remained. Amie was less certain—she’d seen so much strange magic since coming to Equestria that she couldn’t be sure what was real, and what wasn’t. Maybe magic really could see into the future.

“Will they tell me how to guide my swarm to prosperity?” she asked.

Pachu'a looked away. “Perhaps. None know the depth of their wisdom. Whether they are willing to share it when asked is a decision only the Elders can make.”

The other two hunters turned back the way they'd come. They bowed to Pachu'a, then walked back to join the city without so much as a farewell. But they probably had families waiting for them, worried after their greatly-extended journey. Did changelings even have families? If they were all born from eggs, hatched from the same queen...

"Speak the truth to the Elders. Civilized creatures cannot lie to one another. We are not prey. These ancient bugs deserve your respect. Their wisdom is great, and their vision casts long shadows into the future. If Queen Kaya is there, I cannot prepare you. I am not a queen."

What does any of that mean? Amie took a tentative step forward into the entrance. Wes followed beside her, huddling close. Their escort didn't, however.

She went a little further into the gloom, watching him over her shoulder. "We don't get an introduction? They just expect us to walk right in?"

He nodded, then dropped into a bow. "It was a pleasure traveling with you, Queen Amie Blythe. I hope your negotiations are friendly and fruitful. I hope Sonoma can help you pull your bugs from the brink of starvation. No one deserves to suffer as they have."

Then he rose, and vanished into the darkness behind them. But they weren't left in pitch black, not with the steady orange glow emanating through the building's not-glass walls.

Wes crowded in close to her, whispering into her ear. "Are you sure about this, Amie? Seems like the perfect place for us to disappear. There's not even any soldiers down here. Just a scary door."

Amie nodded. "I didn't see guards anywhere, Wes. Or anything that looked like police." She sighed, scanning the darkness ahead with sensitive eyes. She saw no one, but she could feel bugs beneath them. She even sensed their anticipation, building as the seconds passed. Pachu'a was right, they did know she was coming.

"They used to be humans too," Wes continued. "Why are they so weird? Meanwhile ponies were never human, and their towns seem great. Maybe a little old-fashioned, but great. You know, like—streets, houses, people wishing you good morning. Cafes and trains and bookstores."

Amie nodded. "Their ancestors were human once. But I don't think any of these bugs ever were. Earth is a story from their mythology, Wes. We're... history."

"Makes you wonder what humans they came from, exactly. I think I've seen photos of somewhere carved into the rock. Too bad we didn't know we were gonna get ripped away like this. We could've brought a copy of Wikipedia along."

"Camp has a library," Amie said. "I think we have an encyclopedia." But no matter how much she wanted to delay going inside, she couldn't keep standing there forever. Important people were waiting through that door, the ones who would decide whether Stella Lacus would starve or not.

"Don't let them push you around," she whispered, wrapping one leg around him in a tight hug. "I'm not Mr. Albrecht. I'm not trading you away. If anyone tries anything, we'll get out."

He smiled weakly up at her, flicking his tail towards the ominous darkness behind them. "Sure, Amie. I know what you mean, but I'm not expecting a miracle."

Together they walked through the doorway, into the Elders' chambers.