//------------------------------// // Chapter 52 // Story: To Be a Changeling // by PlagueRat //------------------------------// It was such a wonderful feeling, to wake up lying on a comfy plush surface while covered by a soft warm blanket. So incredibly wonderful in fact, that the act of getting up to prepare for the day could be considered torturous. Still, it had to be done, there were classes today and he couldn’t miss the train into the city. Not again anyway… Wait… Didn’t I have a project due? Did I do it correctly? I finished it, right? Did I even remember to do it? A sudden wave of anxiety washed over him, sending a tense chill down his spine and throughout his limbs. Being surrounded by a comfortable environment while in the grip of absolute dread was a shocking juxtaposition and it made him shiver as if he was trapped in ice. I feel like I never have enough time to work on anything… Is it going to be good enough? Will I fail and have to take the class again? I don’t have the money to do that…Does everything have to always be so stressful? He pulled the blanket tighter around his trembling form and curled up in a vain attempt to ward off the frigid feeling; all the while his drowsy mind struggled to awaken. Wait… haven’t I already finished college? It’s been years since I graduated, right? A brief moment of relief settled over him but the chill still lingered and he remained balled up within the covers. I still need to get up. My alarm is going to go off any moment now… and I have to go to..? -------- With her ears folded back, Pupa sat up and groggily looked around the dark room in confusion. She felt misplaced, as if her surroundings should have been different, less dark. Blinking a few times, her vertical pupils widened, allowing her vision to focus as she glanced around the room. One of her perforated hooves reached up and rubbed the corners of her large green eyes, removing the crusty vestiges of sleep; or perhaps it was an unconscious attempt to wipe away the strange environment for something more familiar. Walls, which should have been flat and painted an off white color, were by contrast, made from blocks of rough grey stone and held together by a lighter grey mortar. Alternately, where she thought there was a window, was a door, rounded at the top and made from a dark wood. And, instead of where the door was supposed to be, there was a long alcove, recessed into the wall and filled with stuffed animals. There were no lamps to provide light; instead there was a luminescent moss, thriving along the space between the bricks and proving sufficient enough illumination to keep the chamber from being in complete darkness. The nymph’s eyes widened, with the realization of what had just happened, and her ears shot straight up in alarm. Moisture built up in the corners of her eyes and she flopped back into the pile of pillows that filled her bed, a repurposed stone sarcophagus. Her front hooves balled up the dark green blanket that covered her carapace and she pressed it against her face, muffling a frustrated scream that transitioned into a whimper before ending as a growl. “Why do I keep waking up confused like this?” she questioned no one after removing the covering from her muzzle. “This is, like, the billionth time.” While staring up at the vault’s ceiling, the young changeling queen crossed her front legs over each other and began rubbing her hooves up and down the limbs in an attempt to comfort herself. Gradually the icy feeling faded enough that she could muster the energy to roll over onto her belly. A curtain of long dark cerulean hair fell over her muzzle and she made an unsuccessful attempt to blow it out of her eyes. It  remained pooled around her form. Even after she stood up and flicked her head to the side, sending it back over her withers, her mane almost reached the floor. A pair of translucent wings on the nymph’s back began to buzz swiftly, lifting her off the bed and then lowering her to the chamber floor. From there she stiffly walked over to a full length mirror and the articulated thestral skeleton posed just so as to hold it upright. “I need to find you a wig...” Pupa said to the inanimate bones, despite knowing she’d receive no response, before checking her reflection. Over the past few days the young changeling had thought her chitin was looking duller than normal, but now it was so noticeable it caused her to let out a surprised little gasp. Instead of being a semi-shiny near black, it paled into an unhealthy looking ash grey. Even the bluish green of her carapace and eyelids had faded in color. “Oh hive,” she whined to herself, plopping down onto her rear, “I hope I’m not sick or something…” When leaning in closer to get a better look at herself she found that sometime overnight, small little cracks had also appeared around her eyes. When she frowned deeply at the blemishes, more fissures formed at the corners of her lips. “That can’t be good,” Pupa whispered before touching the side of her muzzle with a hoof. “I have to find mom.” The nymph turned to the door but quickly stopped in mid-step, suddenly feeling self-conscious about her greying shell. Incase her mother had already left for the throne room and she would need to travel the tunnels, the young changeling attempted to draw on her powers of transformation to make herself more presentable. She became more concerned when the tell-tale green fire that normally preluded her shapeshifting seemed only to flicker briefly around her before fizzling out. Now nervously trotting in place, Pupa did a quick visual search around the room for some answer to her appearance and a way to cover it up. The dark green blanket still balled up atop her bed caught her eye and she tried to levitate it over to herself but about half way it dropped to the floor. Frantically she scooped it up in her teeth, threw it over her withers and tried her best to adjust the fabric into a makeshift cloak. After giving herself a quick once over in the mirror and making sure she was adequately covered up, the young queen scrambled through the door that lead into her parent’s chambers. Luckily her mother had not left yet, and a touch of relief filled Pupa when she spotted her in the middle of a discussion with three other changelings; Mosquito, Odonate and Termite. Mosquito, her mother’s personal attendant, assisted the queen with anything she needed. The fairly young mare had once been an infiltrator and had a knack for acquiring pony-made items, both useful and otherwise. Odonate, missing an ear and bearing scars along one side of his face, was the hive’s lead guard. He was an older changeling, loyal to a fault, and larger than any other in the hive save for the queen. Lastly, Termite, head of the workers with a proficiency for being efficient and prudent. While under her direction the new hive’s tunnels had been excavated quickly and without any accidents. Upon her entrance, all three of them turned to look in the nymph’s direction. Then, noticing their sudden change in attention, her mother, Queen Chrysalis, craned her long slender neck around and glanced back over her withers. “Pupa? What are you up to?” asked her mother, squinting her sharp eyes at the shrouded nymph as if trying to peer through the blanket. “Um, could I talk to you alone?” the nymph squeaked and squirmed under the multiple sets of eyes. Despite having known most of the other changelings present her entire short life, she still felt uncomfortable revealing her current state in front of them. Chrysalis regarded her daughter briefly before she turned back to the trio and motioned for them to depart with a nod of her head. The three bowed, turned and trotted out the door, letting it close behind them with a soft click. Now alone with the nymph, the changeling queen rose to her full height and walked over to her. “What did you want to talk about?” her mother asked, tilting her head with curiosity and causing her long mane to slip over one eye. “I think I’m dying,” Pupa said, her voice quivering. “Dying?” Chrysalis questioned, slightly taken aback at the youths statement. “Why do you think you’re dying?” With her head down, Pupa shrugged the blanket off her back. She remained that way for a long moment, eyes fixed on her mother’s hooves, imagining the horrified look her mother might have at the sight of her and how seeing it would only confirm her fears of an imminent death. “Pupa,” Chrysalis said with no sadness in her tone. “You’re not dying.” “Then what’s wrong with me?” stuttered the nymph while the wings on her back fidgeted. A large hoof reached under Pupa’s chin, gently guiding her head upward so she could see the smirk across her mother’s muzzle. “You’re molting,” the older changeling informed her, “and it’s perfectly normal.” “I’m molting?” blinked Pupa. “Yes,” said Chrysalis, “Tell me, do your limbs feel stiff?” Lifting one leg up, the nymph experimentally bent the joint and then nodded a conformation. “You’ve outgrown your old chitin,” her mother explained, “and you’re going to shed it soon.” “How soon?” asked the young queen. Chrysalis moved an upheld hoof in a circle and Pupa turned around as directed; then she felt her mane part at the back of her head and down her neck. “If I would hazard a guess,” her mother hummed to herself for a long moment as she continued the inspection, “very soon.” Frowning at the non-answer, Pupa looked back at the older changeling. In response her mother just smiled teasingly. “Before this time tomorrow,” Chrysalis chuckled. “Tomorrow?!” the nymph suddenly cried out, “but we’re going to the zoo today!” “We were going to the zoo,” said her mother, “but you can’t go until after your new chitin has hardened. Molting changelings can’t transform so we’ll have to go another time.” While biting her lower lip Pupa looked around the room as if trying to find some way to get around Chrysalis’s new decree. “Can’t you help me molt faster?” the nymph asked. “No; and don’t you even think about trying to force it along,” Chrysalis said sternly with a look that left no room for debate. “When your body’s ready, your old chitin will naturally shed. Rushing the process could stunt your growth or worse. And after you’ve finished shedding you must allow your new chitin to harden, that means no running around until it’s over. Have I made myself clear?” “Yes,” nodded Pupa. “Good,” said her mother. “Will it hurt?” questioned the nymph. “If you don’t interfere with it, no,” said Chrysalis, shifting her back and shoulders, perhaps from the memory of her own molts. “In fact it feels very relieving, you’ll see.” “Will I lose my mane?” asked Pupa, suddenly wide eyed. “What? No,” answered her mother. “If you don’t force your molt, your mane will be fine.” “My wings?” pressed the nymph. “Of course not,” replied Chrysalis, now frowning slightly. “What about my-“ “Pupa,” her mother interrupted, sighed and then shifted her posture. “Everything will be fine as long as you just allow the molt to happen naturally.”   “So what should I do now?” Pupa inquired. “You take it easy,” instructed Chrysalis. “You’re going to come with me to the throne room or you could spend the day with Katydid and Lacewing in the nursery.” “I don’t really want anyling to see me like this,” muttered the nymph. “I already told you it’s perfectly natural,” her mother said. “You have nothing to be ashamed of, and if anything, the other changelings will be happy for you.” Despite the reassurance Pupa found herself looking at the blanket lying at her hooves. Chrysalis let out a resigned sigh and the jagged horn on her head glowed a soft green as she levitated the blanket above her daughter. “Fine, fine, if you’re really that concerned,” the queen said with obvious annoyance in her tone before releasing the blanket from her magic so it fell over the nymph’s head, “keep yourself covered up. But skulking around underneath that blanket is just going to make you stand out more.”