//------------------------------//
// Amethyst 
// Story: A Song Of Silk And Steel 
// by SilverNotes 
//------------------------------//

"A unicorn did all of this to you?"

The drone at the foot of the Canterlot palace throne buzzed ratted wings as he shifted from hoof to hoof. He looked at his scratched and dented carapace, along with the copious amount of splinters, his ears twitching nervously, and finally managed, "Well not... all of it. Some of it was the timberwolves."

"Timberwolves?" Queen Chrysalis repeated, from where she lounged upon her stolen throne--the best kind of throne there could be, for one whose royal title had first been won in conquest--her voice full of incredulity. "This unicorn could command timberwolves?"

"Well it's not so much that she... not so much that she commanded so much as..."

The story was told. Haltingly and flinchingly, but it was told. From the infiltration of the Thicket, to the pegasus and her strange green mixture, to the way that the unicorn had systematically taken him down as if it were nothing. Chrysalis listened, taking in each word with something that was barely patience, her occasional sneer and show of teeth making the words come a bit faster for a time with a trade-off of comprehensibility.

She let him get right to when the howling started, and then held up her hoof, making him hastily fall silent.

And then she laughed.

It was the sort of laughter that started as giggling, then steadily built until it was riotous bellows, the force of it shaking Chrysalis so much, she threatened to fall from the throne. It briefly sounded like she may choke, but the royal changeling never fully succumbed the threatened coughing, the laughter eventually fading away with a last, whine-like, "Haaaah..." and an amused shake of her head. "Rarity the unicorn, is it?"

"Y-yes, Your Majesty," the drone managed, "That's what she said her name was."

Rarity. Many ponies threw two words together to form their names, but occasionally, they would do things the way changelings did and choose only one. Short, simple, and sweet. Chrysalis approved, as much as she could care about anything that food did.

"How cute. Prey making themselves out to be so frightening, and yet she doesn't even finish the job herself--"

"I-I think she might have intentionally spared--"

"--Because no mere pony knows how to kill a changeling." She smiled in smug triumph. "If that is the most resistance the local prey can offer, then we'll have that delicious little village in our grasp in no time."

"But we can't infiltra--"

"Lieutenant Pharynx!"

The armoured drone to the right of her throne snapped to attention. "Yes, Your Majesty?"

Chrysalis bared her teeth in one of her widest grins. "Double your efforts on the Everfree. Smoke out those ponies and deer, even if you have to burn the entire forest to the ground to do it."

He nodded sharply. "Orders received, Your Majesty. It'll be done."

She nodded her own approval. Pharynx was an interesting individual, always standing out immediately thanks to his unique hues. Mutations didn't pop up often among changeling grubs, but when they did, those grubs either proved themselves exceptional quickly, or they found themselves equally quickly snuffed out as those mutations proved disadvantageous. 

He'd been proving himself a former case, rising through the ranks as he had with admirably ruthless efficiency. The drones respected him, and would fall in line when he arrived. General Vixen would always sing his praises after a raid, and Chrysalis had never doubted a word of it.

Chrysalis's mirthful mood quickly evaporated, and she gestured at the drone with her hoof. "You're dismissed. Go clean up and make yourself look like less of a fool who crashed into a pile of old wood."

The drone didn't need to be told twice, zipping out of the room with haste. It left Chrysalis drooping with a morose sigh, and then, when she noticed Pharynx looking at her, huffing and straightening herself out again. "I believe I told you to double efforts on the Everfree, Lieutenant."

His ears twitched. "Right now, Your Majesty?"

"Yes, Lieutenant, I want you mobilizing more fire-spreaders RIGHT NOW!"

The sudden shout and bared teeth made him jump, and his wings opened instinctively. Even for such a battle-hardened drone, it took time to regain composure as she snarled at him, but he managed enough to fire off a salute before he fled her presence even more swiftly than the splinter-covered infiltrator.

Now alone, Chrysalis sighed again, sitting in her broken throne room and left staring at a pile of empty bottles that had taken up one corner, only half-hidden by the scorched tapestry that hung there. Some efforts had been made to clean the throne room up, but a few things had been kept, showing their damage. After all, it wouldn't do to polish it all up and forget that a battle had happened here.

She glared at the bottles. The wine cellar had long run dry, and raiding the former homes of the nobility had only yielded inferior vintages, which had similarly vanished all too quickly.

Few changelings truly understood the enjoyment of such luxuries. They sought to take the edge off their hunger, and little else. None of them had thought to bring anything with them other than the grubs and the prey, and the thought of going out hunting herself for some sweet red wine...

Distasteful. The queen shouldn't have to. It should be her reward. She had infiltrated. She had bested Celestia. She had brought her people a feast like none they had ever had before. She deserved to reap the spoils.

She deserved everything. Every single drop.





Rock farming was, by its nature, a ponderously slow art.

Earth ponies could rarely do anything that a given piece of earth wasn't going to do on its own, in time. Much like how a pegasus could form a cloud, make that cloud rain or set off thunder, but couldn't spontaneously turn the water vapour into cotton candy, it was all about nudges, and acceleration. 

A plant-attuned earth pony could encourage a tree to grow faster, or make it produce fruit more times in a year than it normally would, while a stone-attuned one could encourage the minerals around to bind together in just the right way, much faster than they ever would on their own. The right nudges of the right materials could create everything from stone ideal for making buildings to some of the most dazzling jewels.

Faster than ordinary rock formation was still much, much slower than most other magics, and that was where numbers came in. In urgent situations, earth ponies acted as herds, each providing their own push that added up. To Rainbow Dash, as she watched the Pie family at work, she couldn't help but compare it to tornado creation. No individual pegasus could make one on their own, but combine the efforts of enough together, coordinate them, and the funnel cloud would start to take shape.

For the family, their funnel clouds were instead stones that rose up like walls at the edges of the property, curving inward at the top. Spikes, jagged and irregular, jutted along the top edge and the both sides, outward and inward, making the prospect of flying into the farm a hazardous one, and flying out all the more. Even the changelings who got past those defenses would not find the place welcoming, as piles of stones were placed everywhere, ready to be sent through the air with a well-placed kick.

It was like a giant bug trap. Appropriate, since they would be fighting giant bugs.

"How's it looking up there, Dashie?"

Rainbow paused, the forming cloud still between her front hooves, and looked down, meeting the smile from Pinkie with one of her own. "Really good! I'll have this done in ten more seconds, twenty tops!"

Her part in all of this had been a simple one. Below the majority of the spikes and above the stashes of projectiles, she was forming a cloud layer roughly three average pony heights tall, thick enough that there would be no seeing what was underneath until an invader punched through, and by then, there would be earth ponies assembled and ready to start kicking.

Pegasi could stand on clouds and, if they poured enough magic into them, allow other winged species to do so as well. The population of Cloudsdale had always had a tight-knit minority of griffons, because while they had no inherent cloudwalking abilities themselves, they could interact with pegasus architecture with the same ease its creators could. Changelings, presumably, would be the exact same way. 

And Rainbow Dash, as she sculpted the layer, was pouring in just enough energy to start the effect.

The changelings wouldn't be able to stand comfortably. There would be no perching to rest, because they'd start to sink through, as if in very fluffy quicksand. There would also be no going through it quickly, as they'd have no magic to allow them to coax the cloud apart and so would be, at best, trying to brute-force fly their way through something with the consistency of syrup. It would slow them down, while having no idea what awaited them on the other side.

Not quite as awesome and just taking them all on single-hoofed, but Rainbow had watched Cloudsdale fall, and she knew when to set aside the action story set pieces and play it smart.

And with her boast made and audience now present, she set about making those finishing touches as awesome a display as possible. Swoops, dives, well-placed hoof strikes to get everything into place, and thirteen-point-two seconds later, she swooped back down, grinning at Pinkie's wide eyes and open mouth.

"That's so--" 

"Awesome?" she puffed out her chest proudly. "What'd I tell you? I wasn't top of my class in weather control for nothing. Those changelings won't know what hit them." She grinned. "Got anything else you need?"

Pinkie shook her head. "Nope! I was just coming to get you for dinner. Mom made the rock soup with extra salt this time, to celebrate all the defenses being up."

Rainbow made a face. "Great..." The grin came back, much more forced. "Then let's go in and eat. Burning that much magic's got me starving."





Rest by day, move by night.

There hadn't been any incidents like the one with the nymphs since, and while part of Rarity was relieved, she would also spend each sunrise, as she settled down to rest, expecting the metal clang of a dropping shoe.

It was all going too smoothly. Scouts had to be patrolling the rails, as she was certain the swarm would have realized that ponies would follow the tracks even without trains. It was such an obvious move that, were she in their place, there would have been at least five skirmishes right now, maybe six.

Where are your resources going, then?

What are you planning?

Food stores were running low, as predicted, but they'd stretched them out by eating the scant vegetation. The first mouthful of wild grass had nearly made Rarity spit it right out again, and she'd spent a while watching Fluttershy and Big Macintosh eat with far less in the way of complaints. Then again, with the two of them, there was rarely much in the way of dinner conversation at all.

There were rare grasses that were thought of as delicacies, carefully cultivated, and she'd been open to the idea of trying them, but when it came to what nature had to offer, she'd be happy to never have to put such a thing in her mouth ever again.

The pressure of the depleting food, and the lack of patrols, had had the group starting to push their luck, and keeping going further and further past sunrise. Despite knowing the only way such risks could end, Rarity had gone along with it, taking every moment beneath the warm sun and savouring it.

It was on one of such mornings, sun already risen, that they heard it. With ears tuned for buzzing wings, there was a moment that Rarity was alarmed and looking up. Then, upon realizing what it really was, she relaxed again. For all of two seconds, when it fully sunk in what she was hearing instead.

Humming.

Some creature, out in broad daylight, was playing so fast and loose with their own safety that they were making noise for no other reason than to make noise. Rarity glanced down at her necklace, then when she looked ahead, she saw it. 

A pony strolling toward them seemingly without a care in the world, not only humming out the wordless tune, but prancing their way along the rail line with eyes shut. A burnt yellow coat was paired with a brighter yellow shirt, and a voluminous brown mane bounced in time with the self-made music.

There were no signs of injury, old or recent. Nothing in his gait that suggested fatigue, illness or even simple hunger. Not even any chips in the hooves from excessive walking on wild terrain. There were no signs of any cart, any saddlebags, or any other way to carry supplies, either. Just a lone pony trotting along the tracks, happy as you please.

All three looked at each other, and Rarity gave a grim nod. Big Mac fell back behind the two mares, and they kept up their pace as they headed directly for the stranger. Ears continued to rotate, listening for more, and eventually, the humming ceased, and eyes opened.

"Well hi there!" the stallion greeted. "Didn't expect to see anypony else out here."

Almost close enough.

"Yes," Rarity said evenly, trying to keep her emotions from flaring. "These days are... troublesome, for traveling."

"But all the more reason to enjoy each and every day, am I right?" The smile was bright, cheery, and far too big, placing ice on Rarity's spine. "Where are you headed?"

One more step.

"T' see some family," Mac responded, patiently, his low drawl giving nothing away.

"Aw, that's--"

Rarity wished she'd been able to be pleasantly surprised. She'd wished that a trap would only have been so obvious if it weren't a trap at all, and she'd really just found one of the sunniest ponies on the entire planet. It would have been nice, to have one more companion along, one who may even have potential to appease that tree, since it seemed to think such traits as being able to smile at the worst of times was a virtue.

Instead, as they came close enough, everything went exactly as she'd expected. The diamond and butterfly gems lit up, and the fierce white glow made the stallion flinch and stumble backward. "What are--?"

They're here. Six--no seven--others. We're outnumbered more than two-to-one.

Rarity's horn lit soon after, blazing as she reared up and readied her spell. "It's an ambush!"

Which means I may actually break a sweat.





"But I'm allergic to at least half of the trees in there!"

"I don't care! The queen wants as many fire-spreaders as possible, and she's in one of her shouty moods. You can either come with me to the Everfree and deal with the sneezing, or you can find out what happens when she trades in the shouting for kicking! You understand me?"

"But--"

"Move your carapaces before I move them for you, you bunch of whimpering grubs!"

Twilight Sparkle lifted her head, and quietly watched the argument in progress. She'd been watching that one in particular, the one with the purple eyes, every time he came near her group. Right now he was snarling at the cluster of other changelings who'd been watching over them, who all cowered back as they protested, and her ears twitched as she logged away the word Everfree for later.

Part of her curiosity had been purely pragmatic. He was better armoured than the others, and she'd heard enough snippets of conversation to catch his rank. She was trying to put together a model of their chain of command, to have a better idea of how the swarm operated. It was far too easy to fall into the trap of seeing them as interchangeable, but the longer she observed them, the more it was clear they were a society of individuals, and that was important knowledge.

Know thy enemy, as they said.

But some of the curiosity was just... curiosity. He looked different from the others, and while he was aggressive, there seemed to be a method to it. It seemed protective, like he was trying to be an insulating layer between his subordinates and his superiors. Barking at them so they didn't get bitten. It was fascinating, and made her wonder more about how their species' social dynamics worked beyond just how to exploit that system to free Canterlot.

She couldn't get too lost in her interest and speculation, however. This wasn't a research project or a cultural exchange. She was a prisoner, and she needed to slip away again soon, to get to the others.

Sunset Shimmer had told them last time that she was fine-tuning a plan. Tonight, it would hopefully be ready. It had been natural for her to take the lead, having been the princess's star pupil, and clearly knowing the city inside and out as a result. With the invasion throwing everything into chaos, she'd become a rock for them all to cling to, and they'd needed to do that clinging.

Twilight would get to see Moondancer too, soon, and despite it all, the thought made her smile.

The lieutenant spotted her staring, and soon his snarling face was focused on her instead. She quietly averted her eyes, for not the first time, and likely not the last. Trying to seem like she was meek in the face of her captivity. Though, it wasn't as if he could do much to her for it. The swarm needed its food, after all.

Twilight knew she couldn't let herself get too wrapped up in studying them. She couldn't equinize them too much.

She couldn't let herself hesitate when the time was right.





One the fruits on the Tree is purple.

All of them are the same size, and same shape. They were when the first potential bearer stepped forward, that way they remain. All equal parts a single set, all ripe and ready to be claimed. Only the colour sets them apart, and the colour has shifted over time as calculations are made. Preparing for just the right hoof to reach out.

The purple fruit has shifted a few times before landing on its current hue. Briefly, it'd burned orange like the setting sun, and in another moment it'd been an almost icy blue, but now it's settled on its lavender hue, unlikely to change further. Mortals are not ideal bearers and never have been, but the Tree watches all that has been, is, and can be, and sees everything arrange itself and make the path clear.

Nothing is perfect, but with its choices, the outcome is the best that can be hoped for.

Not that the Tree can hope, but it understands hope slightly more than many other emotions. Hope is important to foster, and keep alive, because without it, the threads wither and the connections collapse. When hope dies, much more follows, and it can not create heroes with nothing left that can hope.

That will not be permitted to happen. 

These Bearers of Harmony will ensure that this world continues to have hope, one step at a time. They must, and they will, because the Tree is already certain of its success. It always knows that each bearer it chooses will further push the world away from disaster, and set things on a better path.

It can not fear failure, because it has already predicted victory.

It can not care about the cost.