Before long, Rarity would feel the sun on her coat again.
Saddlebags had been filled with preserved food, clean water, blankets, and other essentials. Big Mac had the lion's share of the supplies, but nopony was without their own load to carry. The three of them would need to take the trip, keeping the group small and primarily moving under darkness in order to not draw attention to themselves, and one of the most important essential of all was the map, which would be Rarity's to safeguard. The food would be unlikely to last the whole way, but an advantage to being a herbivore was that a pony driven to desperation could live at least a few days longer eating grass, so they'd do what they could to supplement the supplies with forage and grazing.
She kept giving the depths of the forest glances. She didn't like the tree--in fact, on a bad day, she wanted to say that she hated it--but the idea of being so far from it had her antsy. Her greatest weapon was going to be far from the source of its power, and while part of her understood that there was no finite range on the influence, the rest didn't like it, not one bit.
But it was necessary.
Ponies had been coming up and giving them things. A few deer as well. Pickled fruits, an amber lantern, other small gifts to help them on their journey. No one else had volunteered to join, and Rarity understood why. They had a home here now, and were reluctant to leave it, especially those with foals and fawns to look after. It made her all the more grateful that Mac had decided to, despite not wearing a mark of duty around his neck.
They couldn't linger much longer, however. The sun was falling beneath the horizon, and they would need to cover all the ground they could in the first night.
"Rarity!"
But she would always have time for one pony, in particular.
Rarity turned to see Sweetie Belle race toward her, and skid to a stop to keep from running into her leg. Both sisters stared at each other for a time, green and blue eyes seeming to try to bore into each other and communicate what needed to be said without words.
As neither possessed such telepathy, it was Sweetie who spoke first. "You're leaving."
"I promised I'd bring you somewhere safe--"
"And I want you to be safe too!" She stomped her hoof, and Rarity was left wondering when the little filly had found her boldness. "You're my sister. Promise me you're coming back. Promise me!"
"I..." Rarity took a breath, and lowered herself to the ground. Down at the same level, there was less neck strain involved in locking eyes. "I promise, Sweetie. I'll come back." She leaned over and nuzzled the top of her head, as an older sibling should, and the contact and familiar affection unraveled some of the tension in both of them. "I'll find the survivors, and then I'll come home."
"Good." Sweetie squinted a bit. "And no going back on it."
Rarity gave a mock gasp. "Sweetie, what sort of mare would be if I went back on my word?" When the look didn't let up, she added, more sincerely, "I kept my first promise, didn't I? I'll keep this one too." She slowly got to her hooves again. "Now, you behave for Cheerliee, and don't let any of your new friends talk you into anything you don't want to do, okay?"
"Okay." Rarity could see the tears shimmering at the edge of Sweetie's eyes. "I'll miss you."
"I'll miss you too."
They stayed in each other's presence a little longer, as much time as they possibly could. Then Fluttershy and Mac stepped over, joining them at the edge of the green curtain obscuring the refuge, and Rarity knew that it was time to go.
Rail lines were very new to Equestria, because trains were a very new thing to the entire world.
Whenever a nation had its population of flying species over a certain percent, transportation innovation tended to start and end with "get someone to fly it there." Mail was traditionally flown to its destination by winged couriers, while sky carts could be pulled by one or two flying creatures to get a heavier load or a passenger somewhere quickly. If you couldn't get there over roads, you looked to those who could move through the sky, and in a place that was just in that sweet spot of winged creatures being a minority but just large enough of one, an adolescent could make some decent spending money with a part time delivery job.
Some places didn't have that luxury, however, and Minos had been one of them. Minotaurs could carry a lot of weight per individual, but were relying on bipedal, ground-based locomotion. They'd pioneered some of the first airships, but they'd also contemplated ways to get things along the ground faster, and from that had come trains. And as the possible benefits started to sink in for other places--and the screaming from the winged creatures who didn't like giving up any pieces of their pie died down--the technology had started to spread.
When the swarm had invaded Canterlot, the Trans-Equestrian Railroad had just barely been finished. Ponies were just starting to become accustomed to either having goods arriving by train, or traveling by them themselves. It'd been the start of a technological and cultural shift, with the full ripple effect yet to be seen.
Now the tracks were bare. Not a single train to spot in the distance, whistle to hear in the air, or whiff of smoke to scent. Just wood and metal, the road for an absent traveler, stretching off into the distance.
The map the three had was crude, and there had always been a chance that, despite their best efforts, they would stray too far and miss the correct town entirely. And so its creator had sketched out the rail lines as well, that she had gotten used to seeing below her as she soared from place to place. Rarity, Fluttershy, and Big Mac would follow the rails for as much of the journey as they could, to have the best chance of getting where they needed to be.
The moon has high in the sky as they walked, and they took turns looking upward, both to gauge the time by its place in the sky and check for anything that blocked part of its glow. Ears constantly rotated, hunting for the buzzing of wings, and conversation was sparse, kept to occasional check-ins to make sure each of them was okay with the load they carried.
They needed to cross as much distance on the first night as possible. They needed to get away from the Everfree Forest, and everyone in it, so that if they were caught, they wouldn't be recognized as being part of the refuge. After all, nopony wanted to be used as bait to try to lure their fellows out.
The moon was half-way across the horizon when Fluttershy brushed against Rarity, and the pair's eyes met.
Fluttershy lifted her neck, nudged at the butterfly around it, and then moved her head to gesture toward Big Mac with her snout.
Rarity followed the look, saw him staring at the sky in his turn to watch for wings, then looked back at Fluttershy, and all she could do was shrug.
Fluttershy drooped with a sigh, and Rarity nudged her back, before giving a reassuring smile.
It was possible they had their third member already, but she couldn't know for sure right now. She hadn't been entirely certain about Fluttershy either... until she was, and had known it was time. They would both just have to trust their instincts when the moment came.
To try to drag anypony to the tree before then...
There were things Rarity wouldn't wish on her worst enemy, and an audience with that tree when it didn't want company was the very top of the list.
All herds of food eventually came to Canterlot.
For some, it had been nearly right away, such as the haul of assorted creatures from Ponyville. With the city so close, ransacking and relocation had gone on one right after the other, ponies and other prey being driven along the rail-line to the conquered capitol. For others, it had taken longer, the swarm establishing themselves within the bones of other major cities and gathering together the populations from neighbouring towns. Those cities would become nesting sites, but once all eggs had hatched and the grubs could be more easily transported, the migration would start there too.
Everything had to be gathered in one place, because the queen's appetite was greater than any individual changeling's. The kind of power necessary to best an alicorn needed plenty of feeding, and every last one of them knew that if she ever was left wanting, they would never have another victory again.
Canterlot's streets were becoming filled with so many different ponies. Ponies of Cloudsdale, Applewood, Fillydelphia, Vanhoover...
A mare was being led down the street, one of the few prey creatures who still had clothing. Most had found their outfits growing torn and dirty, ripped by fangs and caked with green slime, and they would eventually discard the garments, leaving them in bare fur as they were chased from pen to pen. This mare had stubbornly clung to the dress she'd been found in during the attack, and even now that it was ripped and torn, smeared with mud and blood, it stayed draped over her body, and her head remained held high.
One drone, one who had only ever occupied Canterlot and had not seen the mare before, dove at her with buzzing laugher, snapping fangs at the train of her dress. A single kick sent that drone dropping to the ground.
The changeling leading her stopped and stared at the mare, and the mare stared back in a silent dare. The changeling flew a body length away, and the mare obediently followed. And so a simple nod was given, and the walk continued, the drone on the ground destined to have it pointed out to them that ponies kick, and so approaching one from that end was asking for it.
Eventually, the additional lesson would come from those who had occupied Manehattan, which was that, when it came to that mare, she would be docile enough for feeding on and leading around, but you didn't touch the outfit.
"Heads down and ears up, everypony. Wings."
Rarity's hiss had Fluttershy and Big Mac on their hooves, then their bellies to the ground, in moments. The sun had risen a few hours ago, and they'd been taking refuge in a line of trees not far from the tracks. Once their ears were up and searching for it, the buzzing in the distance was unmistakable, and all three ponies went still as they hunted as best they could for a visual of the incoming changelings.
Be calm.
It's what Rarity had told the others, and what she kept repeating to herself.
Be calm. Slow, steady breaths. Don't let your fear get the best of you, or your rage, or your grief. They won't sense you from proximity, but a big enough emotional spike will get their attention. Don't give them a reason to think there's something out here, and they won't actively search.
It was easier said than done, of course. Everypony had lost somepony, and so it was natural to have everything rise and surge upon seeing the source of all of this torment.
For Rarity, however, when she saw what was approaching the tracks, the reaction was more of a slowly sinking stone in her barrel, dragged all the deeper when she heard Fluttershy whisper, "They're... so much smaller..."
Indeed they were. One of the drones was full-sized, leading the group along, but the rest were only half-sized, following in the ordinary drone's wake like ducklings behind a duck. Rarity watched, and she counted quietly. Six little ones, all landing together by the tracks, and looking around with curious compound eyes as the drone spoke, their words lost over the distance.
"They're nymphs," Rarity managed to say. "Children. There were some in Applewood, during the occupation. They're probably..." Her heart sank all the more and she flinched. "...Around Sweetie's age. The slightly bigger ones are no doubt older, and the very small one sticking close to the adult may be younger."
"What would they be doin' out here, then?" Mac whispered, ears still twisting searchingly for the sound of more.
Rarity shrugged. "Something educational, perhaps? The adult teaching them about the rail system?"
"Or huntin' for stragglers..." Even so low to the ground, Mac still managed to paw at the dirt with his hoof. "What'd you say before t' us? Go for the wings first?"
"Mac..." Fluttershy said softly, eyes widening. "They're foals."
"They're changelings. They took my Granny an' tried t' take Apple Bloom. You think for one tree-kickin' second that if that were Cheerilee an' some o' her students they wouldn't still start swoopin'?"
"Big Macintosh," Rarity's voice was a low, dangerous hiss. "Look at me, right now." His eyes met hers, and as he stared down the full blazing fury of the mare next to him, she saw him flinch back slightly. "Think about what you've just said. Standing out there is the equivalent of Cheerilee and her students. Creatures too young to have hurt your family, and their guardian."
She continued to stare at him, hard, trying to make each word enter his ears and stick. "Do you think they had anything to do with your grandmother? With Ponyville? Do you think beating them into the dirt would help us find her? Do you?"
Mac's ears twisted backward, his eyes squeezed shut, and his head sank. "...No. I reckon it wouldn't."
Rarity softened, and sighed. "You're a good, upstanding stallion. I know you wouldn't say that sort of thing while in your right mind. Just remember, my friend: it's the queen we're after. And on our way to her, we should strive to be better than our enemy."
He nodded, silently. Then he and Rarity looked up as Fluttershy gave a frightened squeak. "Th-they're headed for us."
Mac's emotion surge. Rarity looked out to see two of the nymphs taking curious steps in their direction and sniffing the air, and cursed under her breath. "Fall back. Quietly. And try not to be afraid."
They both nodded, and the three started to slowly push themselves backward, deeper into the brush, trying to not even breathe too hard as they moved and watched the two young changelings hop into the air and open their wings to buzz closer. They got nearer to the tree line, were clearly about to cross over into it...
"I said no wandering off while we're out here! You two don't want a chimera to jump out of the woods and eat you, do you?"
Both nymphs froze in the air at the call, did a rapid about-face, and zoomed back over to the others, hasty apologies tumbling from them, and Rarity let out the breath she'd been holding in a long sigh.
The swarm had been experimenting with letting the herds mingle.
Ponies could be insular creatures, but that wasn't a hard-and-fast rule. Mix together ponies from two different locations, and you may luck into family members or friends who had drifted apart finding one another again, and that rekindled relationship under dire circumstances would provide more food for the changelings guarding them. Better yet, they may form new attachments, providing a rush of new love to dine upon.
As more creatures were brought into Canterlot, the groups that had previously been kept together were being split up, mixed into existing feeding-herds like drops of new paint on a pallet to make new hues. The orange mare was being taken from the cluster of Manehattan socialites she'd been thrown together with before, and put in with ponies who'd been acquired closer to Canterlot.
At first, she didn't react much to the shell of what had once been a high-end boutique, merely stepping inside when told to. A few of the exhausted, worn-down ponies in the group lifted their heads, finding the energy to rouse themselves at the new and unusual sight, but none moved toward her or spoke, simply staring at the newcomer with a tired sort of pity.
Then one voice did rise.
"Land's sake! Jackie, what'd they do t' those nice clothes o' yours? I ain't seen you that messy since y'were a filly."
The orange mare looked, found the ancient green mare among the cluster, and tears pricked at her eyes as she gave a slow smile.
"This? This is nuthin'. Y'should see what I did t' them, Granny."
The changelings were there for at least an hour, talking amongst themselves, before they finally moved on. The nymphs would alternate between listening to whatever the adult was saying, and playing amongst themselves. They were a lot like cats, stalking one another, pouncing, and tumbling, with the smallest of them tucking themselves beneath the adult drone to avoid the ruckus. Only once did the guardian intervene, and that's when they tumbled onto the tracks; while the words didn't carry the way the previous call had, the tone was clearly stern, likely warning them of the danger of a train coming while they played.
When they took to the air, finally, Mac was the one who watched them go, while Rarity, in turn, watched him. She watched a stallion weighed down by sorrow, and the realization of what he'd almost done.
Just when she started to consider getting more rest before nightfall, she heard him speak quietly. "Miss Rarity?'
"Hmm?" She straightened out her posture after far too long against the dirt. "What is it, my friend?"
"When we get rid o' their queen, are those lil changelings goin' t' starve?"
Rarity stood there, frozen. "I..." She looked down at her necklace, nudged it slightly, and took a breath. "No, Mac. Not if we don't want them to. No child should suffer for the sins of their parents, and... I'm certain somepony would be willing to love them."
He nodded at that, seemingly satisfied. But there was no question of who would take watch as the other two slept, because he never took his eyes off the sky.
Rarity hadn't thought she'd need to answer a question like that, at least not so soon. But she felt she'd given him the honest truth.
Nymphs were just children, and ponies forgave.