‘La pa$$ion!’
- Frederic Daniel, rich barbarian.
It was early dawn. Two figures climbed the hill next to the camp, bearing with them a bag of precious equipment of great value for one of them. The hill lacked a name. It overlooked a stream, its source not far but covered in thick vegetation from atop. Underneath the cover of fir trees and cedars, a small terrace-like formation lay, made out of a flat rock that seemed to have been sundered from its kin slightly above. On top of the hill, a group of cedars danced in the shy breeze, enjoying the harmony of coursing water and the singing of awakened birds.
A Changeling village was positioned downstream, far from the camp but not enough for the two to not smell the first bread being baked.
Chrysalis called for her guards. She ordered Alkanex to protect the bag and ordered two to follow her and the Hippogriff to the village.
The baker, Nasasret, had heard of the Queen’s establishing a camp nearby. Many wanted to meet her and witness their great ruler. Before her reign, regularly baking in the morning was rare. His mother, her grandmother, and all those before him worked the weak fields for the little yield it brought. They had heard of the Path of Stars having the capability to help them, they had been told it had used to be so long ago, but as the age rolled by, knowledge was lost. The Path retreated to the major hives, neglecting settlements as theirs. Then Chrysalis united them. They started to learn how to better their lives. His sister, Fiyitih, the one whose child will inherit the bakery, learned the ways of the Stars. She reinvigorated the fields of their home with the help of the order. Their clan will continue into a future they saw were excited for.
‘Fi!’ he called for her, putting another batch of dought in the furnace.
‘Yeah? Wait a second.’ She was waking up her son and daughter. Only a year separated them.
‘Leave them,’ he said. ‘Bring me more wood. I am running out.’
‘Ah. Only that? You should’ve said so before.’
‘If Isk had not been a moron and would’ve cut them properly, I wouldn’t have bothered you.’
‘I’ll still need to wake Azi up. She needs to learn how to refuel a furnace.’
He rolled his eyes. ‘Yes. You can take a bucket if you want.’
‘Hey! Mom used to do it, and we hated it. I’ll not be like her.’
She heard him laugh. Fiyitih joined him, adding a gentle tap on top of her brother’s head. She was younger than him by five years, but as it was normal for all female Changelings, she was a head taller than him. As tall as one of the “still-ones”, but short to his kind’s standards.
‘Have you ventured next to the Queen’s camp?’ he asked, knowing it would irk Fiyitih. And as he expected, she did not answer. ‘Your squirrel form can fool even Azi.’
She threw a pile of wood next to where he rested them and hovered a half-awaked Azi.
‘Keep your comments for Zultanekha’s.’ A festival common to all Changelings, letting them compete in the exactitude of their skills and the beauty of the melody they could generate.
‘Not your best come back. I always rank higher.’
‘But you never won!’ She put down her daughter, pushing her to the woodpile and pointed to where the logs must go. The young girl did as her mother asked but was not pressed for quickly finishing – her uncle was there to defend her.
‘You neither!’ he countered, taking the log Azi was struggling to hover. He cradled her next to him and let her get more sleep as she rested her head on his leg.
Fiyitih smiled. ‘But I still want to know why she stayed here that long. They were farther. They brought us Food. What could she want?’
Nasasret shrugged, pursing her lips. From the edge of his vision, behind the rock pillar Fiyitih was hiding with her head, he saw what he thought was the black armor of the Queen’s personal custodians. It was said if they would come for you, then your fate was sealed. The Queen had sanctioned you, and she was not to be countenanced with.
‘Fi… Turn around and tell me what you see…’
She was intrigued but did as he wanted. And turned immediately back.
‘Shiiit… I am fucked…’
‘I get my guards are threatening, but not the cause of dread.’
The siblings turned in unison, awed by the sight of the Queen of All. A small crowd had followed her; her intent was here with them specifically. Together, brother and sister knelt.
‘At rest,’ she assured.
Raising their heads, they noticed the pinkish, pale blue beak of a creature they had never met or heard of before. Half Griffon... half Pony? They did not question it. Must be part of the Queen’s presence here; to test the resolve of her subjects at morphing.
‘I would like to buy some of your freshly baked goods.’
‘I-I…’ Nasasret swallowed. ‘I have twenty soon to be ready, Majesty. W-we will pack those already finished. I offer them, even!’
Fiyitih noticed Azi was still sleeping and reached so she could wake her up.
Chrysalis gestured for her to stop. ‘It is still early. She can sleep a few more.’ Fiyitih retreated her claw and sank her head. ‘And I do not wish to take them from you. I want to buy your bread. At a markup, even.’
‘Y-yes.’
‘Good.’
He took Azi aside, waking her up. Chrysalis watched as he, now joined by his sister, were preparing her order, but her attention drifted to the young child sitting alone. Her eyes were half closed; she looked almost sad to have been left alone by the baker. Chrysalis looked back to the two working Changelings – Fiyitih using her learned magic to make the work more efficient.
‘Who is the child?’ asked Chrysalis, taking another brief look at Azi. The mongrel creature next to the Queen made a bemused expression.
‘My niece!’ he shouted; the fire was blanketing his senses.
‘My daughter,’ then said Fiyitih, aggressively eying her brother at the shame he brought them. ‘Her name is Azalyn. We call her Azi. She’s still sleepy, my Queen.’
‘I can see that,’ thoughtfully said Chrysalis. ‘But she does not look happy.’
Nasasret hurried for the answer, stepping away from the furnace. ‘She is finding it hard to relate to other children.’ Fiyitih gave him a slight scorn; he ignored her.
Chrysalis petted the girl on the head, combing the girl’s mane with her claw. Chrysalis snorted at Azalyn’s passiveness.
‘Maybe a gift,’ wondered the Queen. She then pointed to the hill they had come down from, asking if it had a name. It did not, but shortly ceased to be so.
****
‘Like this?’ asked Chrysalis, frustratedly mashing the plain piece of bread she had kept for herself. The Queen had shared most of her purchases with her officers and troops.
‘Lower it.’ Coccinelle lowered down the camera, adjusting its zoom. ‘Here. Also,’ she took one of Chrysalis’s old albums, a small part of her collection of photos, the first the now-Hippogriff had seen, ‘look at these.’
Pictures of the myriad of landscapes speckled around her realm, taken at many times of day and at midnight, particularly favoring the time of the crescent Moon. Some had Changeling leaders sitting with her, and others had dates inscribed next to them from when they had been gifted. She had taken pictures of the many monuments her civilization had built in its long history, and many she and those during her reign had constructed.
One of her proudest pics was the ruins of the Sargona’s, the Builder of Lineage, residence. Nestled on a mountain’s edge, descending into a narrow, windy valley, which slopes had been greatly eroded by the passage of time, the residence had been partially carved into the rock. While difficult to descend, Chrysalis had kept her three times of day streak.
‘I think they look good,’ defended Chrysalis.
‘They do. They are good. But! And that is the… default, I would say… You don’t take the temperature and lighting right.’
‘I am doing it as a passion, not as my source of income.’
‘I know. And I am sure Alkanex and the others have told you how good and professional they look. They are good but not the standards a queen as you should settle with.’
Chrysalis growled. ‘Cur.’
‘Excuse me for wanting to improve your talent.’
Chrysalis did not bother to answer. She briefly stroked the green pearls of her rosary and adjusted back the camera where it had been before, barely a disgusted look on her face.
Coccinelle frowned and said gravely, ‘It, at least, please me that you’ve kept something from Equestria.’
‘Fragments,’ she corrected. She held the camera in a claw and adjusted the objective, trying to find the perfect photo of the creek.
‘I want to know why this and not anything else.’
‘I don’t know. I am usually alone. It is usually peaceful.’
‘You wanted me here.’
‘Then shut up.’ Chrysalis giggled.
Coccinelle grunted, then took another album. Chrysalis could be called many things, but prideful would be definitively the paramount feature.
‘How is the new form?’ wondered Chrysalis, breaking the silence.
‘It had been less than a month ago,’ countered the Hippogriff.
‘That long…’
‘You’re having fun,’ sarcastically said Coccinelle.
‘You haven’t answered.’
‘I feel freer,’ she admitted. ‘Even if my magic is heavily limited, I feel I can do so much more. I thank you for that.’
‘And I thank you for the departure you have given me. It was unexpected.’
‘What do you mean?’
She lifted her head, offering Coccinelle the final judgment of the picture’s stance. Coccinelle only broke a glance when she looked into Chrysalis’s obsession.
‘I’m having fun,’ finally admitted Chrysalis, smiling with all the sincerity she could conjure.
Coccinelle made a thumbs up.
****
Carl was a Reindeer ambassador, the son of a minor noble house, and the only diplomat to have accepted to meet with the Changeling Monarch.
Carl was not happy.
His ancestor had been a great war-leader of the Reindeer. In fact, his entire lineage had been a successful succession of great generals and charismatic individuals. Many were revered heroes for their defense of the land against Changeling raids.
The Mantlerhim family could have remained a great and noble family if it wasn’t for the petty actions of that bitch of a queen.
Carl did not want to remember the dishonor his family had suffered and continued to the camp, grumbling and swearing all the way.
A Changeling (a female, judging by her height), greeted him; ringed on both sides by Changelings clad in the deepest black. He had read of these but could not believe he would encounter them. Carl had also read about the females of their race; he despised how small he felt in front of her. Quite literally infuriating.
‘Greetings, Baron Carl Mantlerhim. I am Lady Kallendrax Kalender, Chancellor of the Estate Royal.’
He extended his hoof to her, welcoming him in return with an appreciation he did not expect, but knew she felt his confusion in his weary movements. The Changelings are known to be masters of deciphering the movement of others.
He hated he had been forced to come alone, but at this very moment, it felt less anxiogenic. A Changeling could have been any of the members of an expanded delegation. His grand-grandfather had written that to know a Changeling is impersonating someone, one needs to search for the shininess in areas it typically would not be. The other manner was at the touch; when the very act of touching would send shivers of discomfort, making your skin crawl, then it might be a Changeling.
If the Bitch had not been paranoid of their success, then he would not have been here playing diplomat. Defeat was never part of the Mantlerhim family. And he insisted on the “was”. Now, they were just bitter.
‘Greetings… Chancellor of the Estate?’
‘Record keeping.’
‘Thrilling.’
‘Yes. Shall we carry on, ambassador? Or do you wish to rest for a while longer?’
He blinked twice. ‘It’s a beautiful emplacement.’
‘The Queen agrees with you, ambassador.’ He is fearful, she thought. Kallendrax withheld a satisfied smile. Something was still bubbling within her being, demanding replenishment. Charmosian, her mentor, had taught her to not fully satiate herself before meeting with those of other races. It would make her more determined, and more attuned in her mission to their monarch. Though the technique had been proposed when dealing with the “grass-eaters”, it was very much useful to deal with those wayward and others needing some railing in.
She could also sense a certain distaste for her profession. She did not want to indulge him nor enter a prolonged discussion with that one. Keeping track of the ledgers in direct service to the Queen was an honor none of her ancestors could claim better. Though she wished Chrysalis could be more comprehensive in her desires and explanations. She had the bad tendency to leave Kallendrax guessing at what she intended of her.
‘It is, yes. It was my recommendation to Queen Chrysalis.’ Why waste an opportunity to boast?
‘Indeed?’ She knew he was finding it hard to believe her; she did not care. It was the Queen’s problem.
‘Unlike what you might have heard about her, her Majesty is not a harsh creature.’
He nodded but stayed quiet.
Kallendrax would have liked to add more, but her muzzle began to twitch. She smelled around, wanting to get a sense out of what she had just smelled. Then, it clicked.
‘You reek,’ she quietly said, looking down at the Reindeer with a slight grimace. Charmosian had warned her of the smell of the grass-eaters; she, until now, thought they had been simple exaggerations.
Carl frowned.
‘I was polite,’ he retorted. Carl was slightly miffed.
They did not speak further. Kallendrax turned, and he followed her to the Queen’s tent. At least, Carl thought, he no longer had to break his neck to some temporary bureaucrat. She, in turn, was just happy to be soon unbothered by him so she could return to take the inventory of the guard’s equipment. She loved this part of her job.
He had thought she would have been scarier. “The Witch Queen”, they called her. Though with a quick look at the crooked horn, Carl understood what the spurned elite meant by that title. Beside the Witch stood five armored Changelings on either side. A sixth individual stood on her right, barren of protection but wearing his formal regalia and confident of the protection the guard were offering or the one Chrysalis bestowed them with.
Carl was sure more Changelings lay around. He began to raise his right arm but stopped halfway through before he could ruin the talks because of simple instincts.
‘You were in breach of our treaty,’ said Chrysalis, dourly.
He wagered their talents for mimicking extended also to their speech. ‘And why should we submit to your demands, Queen Chrysalis?’
‘The treaty King Vafan and I had signed, in short, specifies the following: open war between our both territories is to cease. And I intend to follow it. You were defeated the first time when you preemptively invaded my realm. So much that you accepted to let us raid instead in exchange for peace and thus preventing total war between our people. Then, you disregarded the deal while we made no movements against you outside the terms of the treaty. All my subjects' forces are under my unified privy. I don’t care for full war. I don’t care for war, in brief. A wasteful affair.’
He clenched his teeth behind a closed mouth, then eased the effort. ‘And you think yourself capable of taking down the most powerful creature in this world? Your magic users have many horrid stories circling them, but I doubt that even the gathered might of the Path of Stars could even harm her.’
‘I never intended or will intend to harm her. I am not mad to the point of cursing everyone with the fallout. We, you, and everyone will suffer. The world will come to a scenario it had hitherto experienced.’
It brought him some realization of her rumored animosity toward Celestia. For a reason he failed to properly materialize, Carl felt his mind easing to the Changeling’s words.
She continued. ‘Conquer Equestria? Other nations? Like yours, for instance? For what reason? We lack the number, and deceit alone can only take you so much. You come here fearing we might invade, but we won’t. We only seek a way out of our hunger. And for that, I won’t give up. And so, conquest is not on our agenda. But…’ she let the questioning tone hand, ‘you might be interested yourself. And in this, I can provide assistance.’
He forced himself back into focus. ‘I don’t think you can be trusted.’
The Queen smiled. ‘Let Cici enter!’ she ordered Alkanex.
Moments later, a Hippogriff entered.
‘She’s a visitor and a respected one,’ Chrysalis introduced. ‘Don’t worry.’
He wasn’t sure who she was addressing at the end, and neither the Hippogriff seemed sure. ‘What does it prove?’ the baron asked.
‘Take it out,’ she malignly smiled. ‘Use the artifact you call Revelation to show there is no Changeling underneath. Use that pale copy of the Betrayer.’
The Hippogriff jerked at the sight of a dagger.
Forged by the first king of his kind, Revelation was born in tragedy. King Fredikz had been advised to forge Revelation by his friend and close advisor, at the time, Yimy Tilaa. Both had relied upon each other for years; the king would appoint Tilaa as his regent when dealing with more pressing concerns. But as the Changelings engaged in their raids and the king finally secured his position after years of careful diplomacy and campaigns, and wary of infiltration within his court, Fredikz searched for a manner to easily discern infiltrators, all the while dissuading them from continuing their efforts. Yimy managed to get hold of forbidden tomes and enchanted the metal his friend used to cast what would become Revelation. The weapon was complete and sure of its potential, Yimy Tilaa proposed for Fredikz, the friend and king he had served for years and trusted more than any, to use it on his person.
Seeing the confidence in his friend’s gaze, the king did as Tilaa wished. Then a tumbling melody followed, and the king stared at the true form of his closest friend. For all his animosity to Tilaa’s kind, Fredikz cradled the Changeling as his life ebbed away. The wound left acted as a poison, slowly shutting down Tilaa’s organs – truly named Sadikx. Desperately, the king tried every spell he could use to revert the effects, but for no use. Then, having sensed the use of great and terrible magic, the king’s warriors entered the forge. Seething at the sight of a bug, their mind spun only once, and stabbed the king in the heart, instantly killing him. In his last breath, a stunned Sadikx cursed them, before dying himself. Both impaled by the same spear.
Many within the court demanded revenge, and so it was that war was declared. To the Reindeer's dismay, the Changelings briefly found united in their threat. The long conflict that followed only quickly ended with an assassination, dismantling the First Reindeer Kingdom utterly.
The Reindeer rose Revelation and stabbed the Hippogriff.
Coccinelle squeaked. It did not hurt. In fact, she did not feel a thing. Carl moved back, the dagger still in her line of vision.
Clean! she roared inwardly. Fucking clean!
She turned toward Chrysalis, but her Queen paid no attention to her friend's angrily grimacing features.
‘Indeed, Queen Chrysalis. My excuses. Sincerely.’
‘Accepted,’ settled Chrysalis. ‘Take the cursed thing from him, now. He doesn’t need an incident.’
He swallowed, handing over the dagger to the fancy-dressed Changeling. ‘Indeed.’
****
Preceding the two hours of back and for between the two parties, Alkanex and Coccinelle took themselves aside, hiding behind the Queen’s dent kitchens, and sat on a bench, away enough from prying ears but still close enough to hear Chrysalis’s orders when they would come.
‘The bitch,’ cursed Coccinelle in a broken accent.
‘Better than any world you’ve learned to speak yet,’ he chuckled.
‘Fuck you, Alkanex,’ she abandoned the use of their language. ‘If you were a better teacher…’ she murmured.
‘She knew it would not be hurting you,’ he calmly stated, reassuring Coccinelle by playing with her ear – something she did not know would. Alkanex then handed the dagger to Coccinelle while he was preparing a quick snack for both of them before the coming dinner. She felt disgusted by it. Cooky was sleeping where the Sun hit but did not care about them.
‘I wonder what it would do to you, Alkanex,’ she said behind a malign smile. ‘Might get your clothes dirty.’
He offered Coccinelle her snack, a carrot wrapped in bread. ‘Maybe. Try it, if you want.’
She played with the dagger, taking it back and forward. Then, she stabbed it on the ground and looked at her claw, liking her newly found agility.
‘The earth,’ swallowed Alkenex the same meal, ‘has proven to not be a giant Changeling, it seems.’
‘It’s the fat ass of Celestia. Of course.’
He laughed, withholding it. ‘Yes! Maybe. You Ponies are not that thin looking.’
She smiled to the side. ‘Can’t understand why the Griffons are always bitter.’
Alkenex swallowed his second bite. ‘If you lived in squalor, then you would have understood.’
‘Alkenex…’ She hated when he patronized her like that.
‘Sorry. But I was nothing before the Queen’s rise. We were nothing. Now, we are great. I owe her a lot. You too, no?’
She giggled, sliding her mane behind her ears. ‘I do like being a Griffon. Feels great. Buutt… Do repeat your story, Alkenex. Tell me who you were before the bitch’s rise.’
His head snapped toward her, eying the Hippogriff like a predator on its prey. She wanted to twitch her lips but found herself unable to.
Alkenex tapped her with force on her back, slowly laughing, and repeated, for a hundred times, his life story to her.
****
‘You rather follow the whims and desires of someone eternal?’ casually asked Chrysalis, nearly tired.
‘She has proven more benevolent in her long life,’ Carl reciprocated her weariness. His throat was dry. He had not accepted the offer to drink from the Queen’s carafe, but Chrysalis saw how he eyed it and hovered it over to him.
‘Your ignorance shines. Have you heard of the Princess of Dreams?’
Carl cleaned his mouth. ‘Partially.’
‘For one thousand years. You have reciprocated the full extent of the world’s knowledge pertaining to Luna - for a millennium.’
‘How hypocritical.’
‘Look at the facts. Parse the old records, and then take a good gander at the Moon, for once. I know your people conserve your history pretty well. The Moon was not meant to have an Alicorn “etched” upon it.’
‘What do you mean? What Alicorn?’
She took out one of her albums and let Carl open a random page. ‘Look closer. Focus your gaze on the astral body. Focus. Search for the eye on the right. Find the horn. If you can’t, wait for the night.’
‘I… It’s a Unicorn…’
‘Ever wondered why Equestria has two Alicorns on its insignia?’
‘One to represent Celestia rising the Sun and the other the Moon in her sister’s stead. Celestia and Luna – the Alicorn Sisters.’
‘It wasn’t meant to be that way.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘The Orphean. The Traveler. The Forgotten and the Unremembered. The Great Dreamer. The Astral of the Night. Luna – that was her name a thousand years ago. Celestia’s sister. The one that should raise the Moon. The Stewart of Midnight.’
‘You Changelings and titles…’
‘The world is not right,’ she boomed, stroking her rosary. ‘Ever since the Scaring, it has not been right.’
‘The Scaring?’
‘Something happened one thousand years ago, Baron Carl. Celestia is hiding something, and I wholly doubt it is only this one.’
He nodded in rapid succession. ‘I say, Queen Chrysalis, the meeting’s atmosphere was wholly unexpected.’
‘I am flattered,’ she smiled. ‘The dagger will be returned.’
‘I doubt it will dissuade my masters.’
‘We share the same doubts, ambassador. But we can hope.’
He nodded. ‘May I ask?’ She made an acknowledging gesture. ‘What is your approach toward Equestria?’
She adjusted herself on the throne. ‘The traditional manner. But Celesitia needs to know we are not to be underestimated. That is why Featherfall had been attacked.’
Carl nodded again. Then Kallendrax announced dinner was ready, and both he and Chrysalis jumped to the table.