//------------------------------// // chapter twenty five // Story: Changeling Heart and the New Moon // by ambion //------------------------------// Changeling Heart and the New Moon chapter twenty five For a long while Chrysalis just stood, unable to fully register everything that had happened. Surreal was slung across her back, but the weight of the changeling was slight, barely noticeable against the Queen’s impressive strength and size. The rain fell hard on them, and though it was colder than she realized she did not shiver or seek shelter from it. The Queen’s thoughts turned to the little changeling. Chrysalis looked at Surreal, then back, and to her indescribable surprise Luna was still there, broken and beaten on the open ground. The rain poured on them all with equal apathy, and slowly but surely the colourful chalk drawings of the orphanage foals melted away. There was no crack, not even a scuff to mar the surface of the jewel, despite the Queen’s assault on it. Chrysalis raised it in her magic, slow and cautious in her motion. The piece of Luna’s heart was quiet for the time being, much like the alicorn herself. Even so, there was a latent force the changeling could feel in it. Not for the first time Chrysalis was made to wonder if her senses for such things as love and magic were sharpening somehow or, ultimately more likely, the Queen of changelings had deluded herself and grossly overestimated her understanding and awareness for years, and only now was coming into these realizations. She caught the edge of a sensation; a trickle of love being drawn out from the jewel. The shifting of Surreal’s weight and a murmur of awakening told Chrysalis as much what was happening; the changeling had found a chink through which to feed. Chrysalis bore down with her magic until the flames that held the gem were howling and nearly black, forcing the tentative connection between it and Surreal apart. The jewel disappeared back under Chrysalis’ power with a soundless pop. Chrysalis could not fly with the changeling sprawled over her wings, nor could she disguise them. Surreal struggled with feeble effort as Chrysalis brought her around and, taking wing, held her tightly in her hooves. The Queen would have to trust to the storm to conceal them, hoping nopony would notice a black speck in the gray swirl. The water sleeting off of Chrysalis made flying more of an effort than carrying Surreal, so small and light was the changeling and so big and strong was Chrysalis. That they were in every way one and the same creature was nothing less than astounding. “Luna,” the little voice sighed sweetly, slurring the sounds sleepily. Chrysalis scoffed bitterly. “No.” “No?” The squirming in Chrysalis hooves grew more insistent, but was still as nothing to Chrysalis’ strong grip. “Guess again.” So, enough love had slipped through to rouse the changeling. Even in defeat Luna still complicated everything. Surreal’s eyes were hazy and uncertain as she looked up, sheltered as she was from the rain in the lee of Chrysalis form. “...Queen?” the changeling hazarded. “What are...what’s going on?” “You’re coming back. Then we’re all going home.” Chrysalis was mindful of her grip. Though she doubted the addled changeling could fly at all, let alone through weather this bad, she could all too easily crush the changeling in her grasp. The familiar haze of the shielding ward brought some colour back to the world. Chrysalis angled her descent best she could, circling around to the quieter areas before dropping quickly out of open sight into the back alley bordering the barrier. “I don’t want to go back,” the changeling cried all too loudly. Chrysalis let her free; Surreal stumbled to her hooves, looking this way and that, presumably for some means back to the alicorn. “You don’t have to make that choice.” “But...Luna!” “The self consumed, self-pitying, unstable screw up of an alicorn? No. You’ve had far too much of that. She’s just a source of food,” the Queen of changelings growled. She wondered why she argued this at all with one of her subjects, and chafed at how much it aggravated her to even do so. “She’s more than that!” Chrysalis swept her leg before her and Surreal toppled like so many playing cards. “Not to us!” Appalled with herself, the Queen could only watch herself as her hoof pinned the changeling to the puddles. It took all too much force of will for Chrysalis to usurp herself from the anger, the frustration and fear. Stifling her shudders, she withdraw the contact. “Coming to Canterlot was a mistake. Bringing you was a mistake. “Look at it all!” she hissed to the crying little changeling, gesturing with grandiose motions around them. “I did this! All of it! I...” Chrysalis trailed off into silence, as if some grievous break in herself had frozen over with ice. When she next spoke, the Queen of changelings was rigid in voice and poise, even brittle. “I’m taking us home, Surry. All of us.” Blessedly, the little changeling said nothing, opting only to whimper. Chrysalis closed her eyes and drew a few deep breaths, trying to feel nothing but the rain. She was furious; she’d nearly taken it out on one of her own, and one of the most vulnerable at that. Fear tongued its way further through the crevices of Chrysalis’ doubt than it ever had before. She was strong and she was powerful, but they were not. Her changelings. Her changelings. And she’d been...what? Playing with Luna at some stupid game? The Queen of changelings drew Surreal close to her, keeping her close until both of them had calmed some small measure. Cursing herself in the rain, Chrysalis channeled a small draught of love from the jewels through herself and into Surreal, placating the changeling. She felt she should say something, an apology perhaps, but nothing would come. Leading the way, Chrysalis brought them through the water sleeting down the broken barrier. If there was any advantage at all to the cage of magic, it was that the spell kept the rain out as thoroughly as it kept the changelings in. Almost as thoroughly, anyway. Great torrents of water curtained down the sides, making the world beyond their hotel prison a blurry spectacle of blue and gray. Beetle watched for the colours that occasionally merged from it, ponies coming and going. Despite himself, the foaling he still carried made for fine company, doing and saying nothing beyond the occasional wriggle or yawn. Chrysalis had commanded he wait, so wait Beetle did. There was a peacefulness to it all, a timelessness flowing quite literally all around him as the minutes had trickled by. The changeling could almost forget everything and think himself at home - his real home - away from this whole mess. It was the same rain that fell here as there, wasn’t it? Some part of Chrysalis’ plan seemed to be bearing fruit. With the changelings so passive and peaceful, the guards were taking longer patrols, lingering around the back rooms for whatever quick bits of snacks or chatter they could find from their own kind, for their wards were forthcoming with neither. If anything it was quite the opposite, and the guards well aware they were something of a delicatessen room service going about on regular rounds. As such, the changelings found themselves with a surprising degree of privacy Even so, what did they stand to gain from it? The changeling quashed the doubt within himself. Even if he did not see his Queen’s plan, did not understand it, he had to believe there was a... Beetle huffed, blinked, and shuffled his legs and wings some small manner. It was the most action he’d taken in the last hour. His little companion made a sound like ‘coo’ and squirmed in her own little ways to get comfortable again. Then, in more or less perfect unison, they both blinked when they saw what was new. Chrysalis tended to have that effect, especially as the damaged section of the shield rippled and twisted as she strode through it. Beetle’s eyes went wider still for what followed. Surreal’s eyes drifted up to his own and she managed a faint smile. “You’re finally holding foalings right, I see.” Beetle was stuck for words and too surprised to smile. The child made a sound like ‘coo’, but his Queen left no time for anything more. Chrysalis lead on, slamming back the doors of their hotel prison, not even slowing. Armoured ponies all about the place jumped in startlement, looking to each other in bewilderment. The Queen of changelings blew past them all. She had maybe a minute before some pony, brave or stupid, stood up from the groups, asking questions and giving orders. It was a certain advantage for the changelings that, for them, it was all a bit simpler than that. Chrysalis crested the stairs, roaring out for her changelings to gather. They poured into the hall, blinking and chittering. “We are leaving!” she called, not caring her voice reached far past her audience and down to the enemy. She eyed her band; nobody was missing, but with the foalings in tow there was no eagerness for conflict, only wariness. The Queen of changelings could curse herself later for ever thinking that bringing them along was a good idea or more specifically, for ever being the sort of mind that could find a way to use her people’s children as a ploy. Despite herself, Chrysalis pounded with excitement. She dredged up a reserve of love from one of the jewels in her possession - the stormy gray - lacing it with a command as she poured it into and stupefying the susceptible Surreal. “Stay with us. Follow Beetle,” she whispered to the mesmerized changeling, before turning to the male in question. “You watch her. You get her out of Canterlot, understood?” He nodded. “Say it,” Chrysalis demanded. “I’ll watch her. I’ll get her home.” The Queen of changelings turned to the stairs, slamming her hooves into the woodwork so hard that the beams beneath her cracked and splintered. “We are not attacking!” She bellowed for everyone’s benefit, pony and changeling before addressing the scrambling defence below them. “We are leaving. Try us at your own peril, because I am not in a patient or understanding mood!” She cackled, exhilarated with circumstance. “If anything, I am feeling very vicious and vindictive, so actually: please do give me an excuse,” The Queen of changelings said, grinning pure evil. It had to be said that a cackling dark Queen atop an opulent staircase, heading a small legion of scary black monsters... it all made for something rather imposing. Even so, the guards, earth ponies and unicorns, kept to the haggard line they’d made between the changelings and the door. “This is...sudden,” a pony more wry than most called back up from his cover behind the fountain piece. “You have no idea.” “It’d look something awful up top if I just let you waltz out.” Chrysalis scoffed, enjoying herself greatly. “I could always rough you all up a bit. Or a lot.” There might have been different ways to look at the strange, sudden standoff: finicky things like numbers and placement, but really it all boiled down to a single overwhelming truth. One side had Chrysalis, the other did nott. Everyone knew it. A few very tense seconds passed, before the screaming hysterics of the hotel proprietor drew all eyes to a side door. A wheezing, panting changeling stumbled halfway through whilst changing, in the same manner a pony might trip if too hastily undressing themselves. Breathing heavily, she slowly took in the situation, all eyes on her. “Let me through, I’m a doctor?” she asked between puffs for air. She shook out a leg that was still caught in the illusion of a slightly built mare, but the bag of assorted medical supplies on her back seemed genuine. She managed a bleak little chuckle. “I’m not interrupting something, am I? It’s just that something very, very bad is happening and I need to speak with my Queen.” The voice of the pony piped up from farther on, spurred on by sheer weight of disbelief. “What, you mean worse than a full on changeling breakout?” The pseudo - or possibly genuine - doctor that happened to also be a changeling thought for a moment. “Yes?” Other ponies looked nervously between the black, chitinous bodies and the lax, thoughtful sergeant. This is getting ridiculous. Chrysalis could not have stopped herself smiling maniacally had she wanted to; like a boulder set to the tumult of an avalanche she was both a force of - and subject - greater circumstance. All the twisted emotions knotting her belly were still there, but for the moment they were taking a backseat to sheer enjoyment, she’d been playing at subtle moves too long. “So, the easy way, or the fun way?” she crooned. The leading pony poked his head a little further from cover, rolling his shoulders. “It’s very kind of you to offer, ma’am. Guards, what’s our answer?” There came some hushed, confused mumblings as several ponies cautiously voiced the opinions that discretion might indeed be the better part of valour. The leader groaned and facehooved. “Guards? When we get debriefed, we are all going to lie and say that every last one of you all screamed ‘No Surrender!’ or something valiant like that, and that’s an order. Now fire!” the pony bellowed, leaping forwards and blasting at Chrysalis. She caught the assault head on, burning the spell to nothing with raw force before it ever reached her. A few sporadic bursts of magic flared upwards to the changelings, met in kind by the green, fizzing pock shots from around corners and behind banisters. The Queen of changelings’ gnarled horn flared, lighting the whole of the fountain piece in an eerie light. The waters seethed and spilled over the basin’s sides, turning to black tar that sucked and snared the hooves of the ponies as it spewed across the floor. Ponies tugged and stumbled as they tried to get away, those further out grappled with the changelings that leapt buzzing into the fray. The ponies were quickly dispatched, either mesmerized in enthralling ensorcellment or bound in the copious and generously used secretions of the changelings. To the guards’ credit, once they’d been rallied they did not skimp on the exchange of bruises and spell stings; plenty of changelings would remember this brief havoc poignantly in the morning, even if the skirmish had been one sided and pre-determined. “Better luck next time boys,” Chrysalis laughed. They poured outside, a black swash in her wake. The shield of their confinement still stood, and suddenly the Queen of changelings had an outlet for her frustrations. Bracing her legs, the writhing flames of magic sheathed her horn in an eldritch light. Power surged through her until the eminence was a lance taller than she was, staining everything in sight with its light. The whine of the spell filled changeling ears with its shrill keening, spitting and crackling with molten sparks that sizzled as they fell. “Stand back-” the Queen of changelings roared, but as she readied her shield-breaking spell she watched with bewilderment as, too far along to simply dissipate so much magic, there was no longer a shield for her to break. The dome of lights dissolved of its own accord, winking out from existence, and with its departure the rain fell free. Before the first drops even reached Chrysalis she whipped her horn upwards hard as she could, the physical manifestation of the emerald flames resisting the motion. The beam of light was blinding, but that was nothing to the sound. It came down changeling horns as if they were tuning forks and up through their hooves, thrumming in a wail of tortured air. The intrusive rain crept back in, and as Chrysalis blinked her senses clear she looked dumbly out at the open scenery. For the first time that day, she was thankful for the downpour - the long line of rooftop fires would be quenched quickly...as would anything in the attics under them. Admittedly, she did feel better for the outburst. The screams of startled and scared ponies started up in the distance. Chrysalis tried not to think about only barely just having managed to redirect the powerful spell. The changeling proclaiming herself a doctor bulled through the ranks to her side. “My Queen?” “You had something to say?” Neither changeling was looking at the other; both just stared at the distant flames as they sputtered and died. The shrieks were more persistent. “Something is very wrong. At the castle. They called me in to see a pegasus-” Chrysalis did not like where this was going. “Darker coloured? Marked with the moon on his flank?” “Mhmm.” The changeling turned to her Queen and the steady calm of her voice broke. “He was all mashed up, really bad. He attacked the captain of the guard, wild. Mad.” As the last of the struggling embers were put under, Chrysalis felt her own short lived relief dying. The changeling’s voice did not quaver, but turned gritty and stark. “Celestia and Cadence themselves came in to see him. I hid and watched while they did magic. Forgive me, my Queen...I’ve never seen anything like it...” her voice trailed off and died in the pitter-patter of rain. Chrysalis found herself pulled from a moment’s reflection by Surreal leaning on her, the changeling’s weight a slight nothing against the Queen’s leg. The little changeling seemed oblivious to the silent looks she was garnering for herself; wearied and slumped as she was. Beetle was there also, and with a slight swaying of her hips, the Queen of changelings tipped Surreal so that she leaned on him instead. This got Chrysalis a look of surprise, defiance and apology from the male, but what mattered was that he did not shy away from it. “Luna,” the addled changeling mumbled reverently, then shuddered. Chrysalis thought’s were brought back to the dark alicorn. Was Luna - or what frayed soul wore her face - still unconscious? Had the surge woke her, or it, up? Not for the first time, Chrysalis had to admit, if only silently to herself this time, that she’d been as ignorant as anyone as to the long term ramifications of the spell worked on Luna. So it had seemed only sensible at the time to reproduce the spell in a lesser form, and this she’d done on the pegasus Wax. An experiment, of sorts. One that had since beaten himself half to death with pure, reckless abandon. It was no exercise of the imagination to work out the implications regarding Luna. “We’re leaving Canterlot, now.” Every changeling in the city would have felt her magic behind that blast. What had been meant as an unnecessarily strong breakout spell inadvertently would serve as a ludicrously overpowered beacon. She would get every last one of them out of this accursed place yet, and they would leave the alicorn monster far behind. Let the ponies deal with it. Just then, the hazy, sparkling colours of magic crept up the horizon and locked out the sky, entrapping everybody and everything within the city.