//------------------------------// // Chapter 1 // Story: Without a Trace // by Kelvin Shadewing //------------------------------// Without a Trace DISCLAIMER: This is a non-profit work of fan fiction. My Little Pony © Hasbro. Chapter 1 The walls of the subterrainian city reflected a dim, incandescant glow from the empathite crystals jutting out of their smooth, polished surfaces. All around the hive, the sound of clicking mandibles and buzzing wings could be heard as the inhabitants went about their assigned duties. Some would mine for empathite, the mineral capable of storing and transporting emotional energy, the lifeblood of the swarm. Others were busy constructing new tunnels, tending to the young, training or patrolling for intruders. Chrysalis, the immortal queen of the changelings, entered one of her nurseries to inspect the new young. It was customary of the queen to visit the larvae after the time of breeding. Despite what outsiders believed, she was not the direct mother of every changeling; her body simply did not have the required build like other insect queens. Nevertheless, she loved the swarm as her children. One of the den mothers approached her and bowed. "Forgive my impertinance, hive mother, but there is a dispute among us." "Tell me what troubles you, my child," Chrysalis answered. The den mother stood up. "One of the younglings is... different. It's eyes are a chilling blood red. It has us... frightened. We were hoping that you could identify what is wrong with it." "Show me." The queen was led to a small nest where small changelings who'd just come out of their pupas were playing together and soaking up the nourishing affections of their caretakers. All but one, who sat off to the side alone, feared and shunned by the others. As Chrysalis approached them, they all looked up at her with wide, curious, icy blue eyes. The red-eyed one acted no differently from the others once the queen had his attention. She smiled down on them, and closed her eyes, reaching out to them with her telepathy. Inside their minds, the blue-eyed ones were no different from each other. The red-eyed one bore a slightly different mindset. He wanted to hide, to go unseen. The queen's warm smile stretched into a brooding smirk. This one could lead to new posibilities. She wrapped the ruby-eyed hatchling in her acid green aura and pulled him close. "This one is different, that is true. But you won't need to concern yourselves with him any longer." "W-what will you do with him?" one nurse fearfully asked. "I'm going to see what he is capable of." She turned and looked at the youngling over her shoulder. "Come along, Trace. Your first lesson begins now." Trace stalked silently through the thick foliage, inching closer towards his mark. Below him in the valley, a gryphon scouting party patrolled the edge of the domain. These scouts were a threat to the harvest convoy that planned to leave through this route, but not for long. He gripped a rock in his sticky hoof and threw it with the aim of a seasoned marksman. The stone, too small to damage, was meant for another purpose. It struck the lead guard in the head, knocking his helmet off. Alert, the gryphon scanned the direction the stone had come from and caught sight of Trace in mere seconds. "Contact right! Sieze the insect!" Perfect. Trace ducked down and squinted, channeling his magic througb his body. His chitin plating rippled before disappearing altogether, refracting the light right through his body. This was the best part for him, to be spotted and lost instantly, and to see the confused faces of his persuers up close. One time, while thwarting a minotaur's attempt to delve deep into the badlands, a trek that would have exposed the location of the hive, Trace had gotten close enough to whisper into the intruder's ear. To him, sneaking up on others was the second greatest joy in his life. The first was the taste of pride eminating from his queen. His mind returned to the task at hoof when he heard the clicking of gryphon talons landing on the side of the stony hill. "Fan out and bring it to me!" the gryphon in charge ordered. Trace wondered what rank this guy was, if only to know what colors they would fly over his memorial. Perhaps he was a captain, judging by the plumage on his helmet. Trace crept back and took aim. His horn hummed softly with charged magic. His marks might notice the glow before he shot, but by then, it would be too late for them. A beam of sickly green light errupted from the underbrush and pierced the darker gryphon in the neck where the armor was at its thinnest. He fell to the ground, already dead. The others were alerted to his position and moved to attack. Trace took to the sky and made sure to let them know what direction he flew in, only to drop back underneath and let them fly over. Striking the second in the underbelly was too easy. This one screamed and plummeted to the ground, landing with a loud crack as his bones broke on impact. Deafening roars ripped through the valley from the gryphon in agony. Trace didn't care for how they felt, but finished him off all the same just to bring back the sweet silence. Only two remained. The captain and his last charge, a light-gold gryphon who seemed younger than the others, stood back to back. They swiveled their heads and eyes around, searching for their unseen attacker. "Stay close, lad," the captain said, "Don't separate. No matter what, don't pa--" He never got to finish his last word before another beam shot him straight through the eye. The last gryphon watched in stunned horror as his only remaining comrade's lifeless body fell to the ground. His heart raced, and he shook his head, trying to get a grip of himself. He turned tail and fled, stumbling through the trees. His idea was that if he stayed under the cover of the forest and kept moving, he just might make it back to the road alive. Trace waited at the edge of the forest and watched his last target dash right by him. This was the most exciting part, when the last one tried to save himself. He decided to challenge himself this time and let his prey gain some distance. He charged his horn again, and locked his eyes onto his target. The rookie didn't even stand a chance.