//------------------------------// // Chapter 2: Another Friend? // Story: Umbral Shadows // by pchn00 //------------------------------// Chapter 2: Another Friend? It spoke to me. I did not know the others COULD speak. My whole body is tense…every muscle coiled and ready to spring back and make a run for home. I had never been so close to one before but I recognized it had wings. That meant it could fly and likely catch me. It did not seem hostile…merely curious. And what had it called me? Pony? I shuffled back a step, wincing at the thunderous crash the step makes. It regards me curiously, merely standing still and watching. “Gotta say yer pretty quiet on yer hooves, don’t think I’ve seen a pony who could walk on stone an’ not make a sound.” Another unfamiliar word. ‘Hooves’. I do not know its meaning. My confusion is mingled with irritation now, the creature mocks me. I know I am clumsy, every step a thunderous cascade of noise in my world of shadows and silence. Fear over rides my anger however…as I back up quickly. With a sharp movement I turn on my back legs and begin to bolt down the tunnel. “Wait! Wait….please.” Its tone gives me pause. I look back to find it in the same position, one of its legs held in my direction…almost imploringly. Against my better judgment I stop and turn back to it, silently bidding it to continue. It lowers its leg and shuffled uncomfortably under my scrutiny. “D’you talk pony?” “I speak.” It relaxes further. I understand why. My legs end in blunt clumsy stubs…not the elegant cutting edges my family possesses. My teeth are blunt and flat. No venom, no fangs. Though if it thinks I am entirely helpless it will be in for a shock. “I don’t wanna hurt you…I promise. Really. I’m an exile from the hive you see? I don’t follow my queen.” I look it over again, studying closer now. I note it seems…emaciated. Upon closer examination I see it shaking…not with fear. But with fatigue perhaps, or hunger. I look into its eyes and see…desperation. Longing. Despite myself I feel a twinge of sorrow for the creature. Sorrow and…curiosity. It calls me something odd. “What is a pony?” My question has confused it, I can see clearly. It screws up its brow and is clearly floundering for a response. “Uh….you?” Not very eloquent but it seems an honest answer. “I am not a…pony.” Now its brow rises in interest. “Oh? What are you? Yer not a changeling, we can see through our own disguises.” I frown trying to recall the term his kind uses for mine. “You call us spiderkin.” His jaw falls open in clear astonishment. Then to my irritation he laughs. He is laughing at ME. I may be the least of my siblings but by rights I am still royalty. I should be afforded SOME small shred of respect. “So.” He starts…now seeming amused. “Yer a spiderkin.” Eyes narrowed in suspicion at his sudden acceptance I nod. “I am. Seventh daughter of Queen Spinnerette.” Now he is laughing again and I feel my anger rising. “Do not laugh at me…CHANGELING.” I spit its name as if it were poison. “I will not be mocked.” His mirth fades…again replaced by confusion. “Are…are you serious? You live among them? You’re the…daughter of their queen?” I calm as his tone is, if not respectful, not mocking any longer. “I am…why would I make such a claim if it were not true?” Now he is thinking. I am thankful I have learned to study my mother’s own solid, oft emotionless orbs that I can read easily what this creature is feeling. I wait patiently…again surprised by my responses. I should do my duty…strike this creature down. It is weak and alone from its swarm…but…I have questions. He seems to be choosing his words with more care. Perhaps he HAS realized he should show respect. “How long have you lived down here?” I do not know why he would care, but it is an innocent enough question. “All of my life. Nineteen years, I believe.” His large empty eyes widen. I do not need to be an expert in reading face to know he is surprised. “Yer tellin me you’ve lived with the spiders yer whole life?” I nod. “Of course. I was hatched from a royal egg sac. I am Princess Umbra, seventh in line for my mother’s crown.” Now the changeling is in such a state of shock he sits heavily. Are my words truly so perplexing to him? He studies me for some time. I allow him to. The longer I observe him the less I fear. “You do know yer NOT a spider don’tcha? Yer a pony. You don’t find it odd you have four legs instead’a eight? Are you hidin fangs in that muzzle of yers? Oh! How about’cha spin me a web?” His insolent tone has returned, and I find it grates on my nerves heavily. Not so much because of how impertinent he is being…but because he is giving voice to every doubt I have had about myself over the years. He is studying me again, gauging my reactions. What he sees seems to surprise him. “You really don’t know do you? You’ve never even left these tunnels eh?” “I…” I try to sort through the jumble that has become of my thoughts. “I am not a…pony.” I speak the foreign word slowly. “I was merely born…different. Mother says.” He approaches me now. Slowly. Non-threateningly. “Look kid…Umbra you said?” At my nod he continues. “Umbra I’m pretty sure you didn’t hatch outta any spider sac. Yer a pony. I know ‘em when I see ‘em, believe me. Four legs, hooves, mane, tail…and yer horn. Yer a unicorn, Umbra.” I recognize legs and horn…the rest are more nonsense words. I do not move as he approaches, he is close enough to touch now. “…what do you want, changeling?” He sits comfortably before me. Companionably, in fact. “Well, I was hoping for a favor.” While I no longer fear him, I am certainly not about to become friendly with one of my family’s enemies. Though he said he is no longer of his hive, perhaps he CAN be trusted? “What favor?” I see the relief in his eyes. “I won’t beat around the bush then Umbra. I’m starving y’mighta noticed. T’death.” I shrug. “So eat something.” He perks up. “Well there’s the rub! What I eat is…well…you.” He pokes one of his legs…a…hoof? On the end at me. Now I narrow my eyes and tense once more. He sees the shift in my stance and he flails his front hoofs…hooves he called them in my direction. “No no no! Not YOU you…just feelings! Emotions. Changelings feed on emotion!” I calm…but not by much. “So you are asking me to what? Allow you to feed off me?” I do not try to hide the disgust in my voice. He winces. He seems to genuinely care about my disapproval. “Please. I know we just met, and ya don’t really got any reason t’help me but I’m beggin ya kid. Umbra. It don’t hurt, I won’t take more’n I need. Just a li’l bit of something. Anger, fear, sadness…love if ya can muster it up.” I consider his request. I do not know why I care…but some part of me does. I know the traps I have crafted and poisons I brew have unleashed great pain and death upon this creature’s people, but I have never brought harm to another sentient creature personally. I find his suffering…unpleasant. “I will allow this…in exchange for information about ponies.” He brightens immediately. “That’s it? That’s all ya want? Stories about ponies? You got it! I got so many stories about them Technicolor chumps it’ll make yer head spin! Uh…no offense.” I shake my head. “None taken, changeling. I do not believe I am one of them, despite your words. I am merely…curious about things beyond my home.” “Sure sure, kid.” He nods emphatically. “I gotta get kinda close fer this, goes smoothest if we’re touchin’. Y’okay with that?” I consider for a moment. Even in close proximity, I am confident I could overpower his slender frame easily. “Very well.” He approaches. Despite my words, I tense. He stops as our faces are inches from one another. “Now…just think of somethin’ that makes ya feel…strong. Don’t matter if it’s a good feelin’ or a bad, but love is the best.” I shrug. I close my eyes and conjure images of my mother. Those fleeting moments when we are alone. The tenderness she shows me. I feel the bright green light on my eyelids. It is bright enough that it causes irritation and I flinch back, but I feel him rest his horn against my cheek. I feel….drowsy as a wave of green energy rolls from my head to rear, and then sweeps back up racing back into his horn. The light fades and I lazily blink my eyes open. I do not feel…bad. I just feel somewhat drained. On the other hand, the changeling looks much healthier. Standing taller, his frame filled out healthier. With a little trill of alarm, I realize he is suddenly larger than I. However, he makes no threatening move instead merely hopping back and…gesticulating oddly. His hind end…wiggles back and forth. Noticing my incredulous stare he stops. “What? You spiders don’t dance?” Dance. Another word I file away for explanation later. “We do not.” “Yeesh maybe ya AIN’T a pony. So ya don’t dance. Do ya sing?” I can tell his question is in jest. He does not seem prepared for my suddenly flustered countenance. “Our agreement was I ask YOU questions, not the other way around changeling.” He is smiling wider now. I believe I prefer him starving and desperate. “Alright alright, don’t getcher tail in a knot. Before we start the Q an’ A, enough of callin’ me changeling. I gotta name, it’s Tak.” He holds his hoof out to me. I stare at it a moment…surely he does not expect me to kiss it? I am royalty, not he. Then I notice he glances down to the…hoof on my own leg. Slowly I lift it to mimic his gesture, and he plants his firmly against him. The ensuing CLOP causes me to wince, but he is smiling. “Congrats Umbra, yer very first hoofshake. How’s it feel?” I lower my leg looking from my hoof to his. “…loud.” I nod and continue. “Very well. Now that we have been introduced. What is a tail? What is a mane? What is a coat? What is a unicorn? How does my horn further indicate my status as a pony?” He chuckles now. Again he laughs at me. “Yer tail’s that thing stickin’ outta yer backside there. Mane is the hair on yer head. Coat is yer fur. Unicorn is a pony with a horn. I think that answers two questions in one.” I look from the long white…tail to the mane on my head. I never had words for them before; I just assumed it was all hair. And the hair on my body…fur he called it. I never gave much thought to my silken black coat of fur. “All ponies are shaped as I am? Do they all have black coats and white manes?” I cannot keep all the eagerness from my voice. This seems to amuse him, and once more he sits by me looking relaxed. “More or less the same shape. Ponies come in three varieties mostly. Unicorns like yerself, then there’s earth ponies no horns or wings but they have a sorta magic with the soil they grow food from. Then ya got yer pegasus ponies. They got wings an’ control the weather.” I nod as I absorb this newest batch of information. “And I look like a unicorn?” “Pretty sure you ARE a unicorn kid, but let’s not get back inta that.” He said another word I have not heard before. “What is magic?” My question seems to have him stumped for a moment. “Well that’s a pretty hard question t’answer. D’you do anything the uh…other…spiders can’t? Maybe something that makes yer horn glow?” I frown. How does he know about my power? He could not unless he has seen me wield it. Unless… “…THAT is magic? The power I use to see?” I use it for many other things, but I do not think he needs to know this. He grins and gives a nod. “Yup! Magic can do tons of stuff. It all depends on the unicorn usin’ it. My kind can do some magic too. It’s how I eat, an’ how I change shape.” I did not know his kind fed on emotion…I DID know they could change shape. I have heard of changeling who would infiltrate the web in the early years of our hostilities. They ceased this once they learned mother could effortlessly detect them. “Can you show me? How you…change?” The more I talk to this changeling…Tak, the more at ease I feel in his presence. In some ways this is so much better than speaking to my friend. Tak can talk back. Eventually I learned to communicate with her without words on her part but still…to have a conversation. It is a pleasant experience. He smirks and hops to his hooves now. “Hold onto yer horn kid.” His own flared with that irksome green light, and with a yelp I looked away, eyes shut tight. Then the light faded and I looked back I was looking at….me. She tilts her head just as I have. Her own ruby red eyes widened, mouth hanging open in a perfect mirror to myself. I shake my head as she shakes hers, tossing the thick mane as it falls over one eye. Gingerly I reach a hoof toward her and she again mirrors me. The faint ‘tak’ sound as they touch seems to jar me from my momentary stupefaction and I shake my head, affecting a stern look. She does the same. Despite the oddness of the situation watching Tak mirror my actions is…amusing. I cannot help but smile at his antics. Tak’s smirk seems odd on my face…then as another bright green flash and I am looking at him in his true form once more. It takes several moments of blinking before I see clearly again. I have more questions. Many more…but then I realize why I left my friends cave in the first place. “I must return to my home now. Mother worries if I am gone long. Farwell Tak.” I bow politely. He seems distraught suddenly. “You uh…come around these parts a lot Umbra?” I pause as I turn to leave, looking him over carefully. “At times. My only friend lives in the cavern over there. I visit her as frequently as I am able.” He glances back toward her cavern. “Think she’d mind if I stayed there too?” I shrug. “Do not touch her shell and I doubt she will protest. She seems to enjoy my company…and you seem…companionable enough.” He smirks again. “Well thanks, yer pretty ‘companionable’ yerself there Umbra.” “Thank you. I will return…soon.” My step is unusually light as I return home. I always feel more pleasant after visiting my friend, but my encounter with Tak has put me in quite an upbeat mood. It is not long before I am back in the familiar tunnels of my family. Soon I see some advance scouts of the warrior caste. They relax as they realize it is only I who approach. Moving through the checkpoint, I duck down another tunnel that leads deeper underground. I reach inward for my power…my magic Tak called it…and a red glow flows from my horn to settle about my face. Mother came to realize that occasionally my brewing could produce noxious fumes. She had the builders specially craft this cavern for my work. I cannot hide my smile as I enter my work room. This is my place, only for me. Only my magic makes the foul air safe to breathe. None could disturb me even if they wished to. I waste no time going to work. Crushing the gathered ingredients from this afternoon into the bowls made from hollowed beetle shells, I fill the waiting sacs of webbing with my various concoctions. Acids powerful enough to melt stone, oils that will burst into flame upon exposure to the flesh of our foes. Many of the warriors are fond of the toxins I craft to coat their legs with. With but a scratch they can paralyze or kill an enemy. If I am lucky I find a very rare deep flower growing in the cracks of the upper tunnels. I can craft powerful healing drafts with those…but they are few and far between. I pause in my work for my late meal. A few mushrooms and a bit of thick lichen add a touch of extra flavor. I wonder…do ponies eat these things as well? I shake my head, banishing those thoughts. I know who I am, what I am. Carefully, I gather my finished creations and venture back up to the main tunnels. Making my way by mother’s chambers, I shake my head. Another of my sister’s inside complaining. I do not understand how they can be so content to be so…useless. My brother may not have the most cheerful demeanor, but he is a warrior without peer. Worthy of the respect all afford him. Arriving in the armory, I exchange a nod of greeting with the aged veteran who oversees the weapons for the warriors. A special table is set aside for my contributions, and I arrange them carefully. It would not do for a warrior to take one of the sacs of acid and mistake it for poison. Each potion has its own space. Creating a new brew is always exciting for me. I go to my brother and explain to him precisely what it can do and how best to utilize it. Like mother, he is very skilled at hiding his feelings, though I see a glimmer of pride as I present something new. He rarely speaks to any save his warriors. A question now and again for clarification’s sake, but that is all. But I know he cares for me. When I was many years younger and crafted my very first toxin, I was ignored by the warriors…all save my brother. He listened attentively as I excitedly explained precisely what I had made, and what it could do. I do not know if he believed my claims, or was merely humoring his strange and excitable little sister…but he coated his fine blade in my poison. Upon his return from that battle every warrior came to me, asking how soon I could create more. From that moment on, I knew I had found my place. Mother personally called me to her side and told me how very proud she was of me. I glide through the tunnels now, back to mother’s chamber. Feeling whimsical, I reach within and call up another of my favorite tricks for my power. I see mother shift only barely as I enter, and begin to make my way up the wall and lie comfortably on the ceiling. One of her eyes follows my ascent…and I can see the laughter lurking there. I smile widely down at her, then furrow my brow and open and close my mouth in exaggerated pantomime of my ranting sister. Lithia, I think this time. No doubt a worker did not bow low enough as she passed him in a tunnel. Mother shifts and rolls her shoulders, forcing herself to look away from me…but I see it for just a second. Her lips quirk in a smile and my heart soars. I smoothly make my way back down the wall and to my own chambers. I visited my friend. Perhaps made a new one? And made mother smile. All in all it had been an excellent day.