Maternal Instinct
Chapter Four
A changeling stallion wearing a decorated general’s uniform collapsed to the decorative carpeted floor. He writhed about like a snake being stepped upon, screaming horrifically in sheer agony and kicking his legs wildly in the air in all directions. His hooves lashed at the sides of his head, tearing up the fur and flesh with long trails of blood dripping from the wounds. The wretched creature looked like he was undergoing an exorcism.
Sitting around the small, dimly lit room were a large group of changelings, a mixture of stallions and mares, dressed either in similar grey uniform, each sporting a varying collection of medals and pins, or the muted kimonos befitting politicians. This was the Changeling Army General Staff, convening within the stronghold of the royal palace. All of them sat with the silent demeanour and perfect posture of statues, not one of them twitching at the sight of the suffering officer or his agonizing cries.
Chrysalis sat before a short table, wearing her reading glasses as she looked over a large white map unfolded on top. It was a military map detailing the northern regions and its prefectures. Set on top were a dozen green figures, with many of them concentrated around the northern border, spilling over into the area on the map representing the lands beyond her kingdom’s jurisdiction.
For the best of five minutes, Chrysalis stared intently at the map, going over every last detail. When she finished, she tilted down her glasses and rubbed her temples before forcing her aching head up.
Her eyes drifted lazily towards the changeling sprawled out on the floor who, by now, had tears of pain pouring down his face as he rasped desperately for air.
“Apology accepted, General Antenaka.”
The general finally gave up and collapsed flat against the floor, only one of his hind legs twitching as the last of his breath wheezed from his mouth and his body remained motionless.
“Fillies, gentlecolts… our army is supposed to be something our kingdom is proud of,” Chrysalis said simply but with an underlying harshness that was simmering near surface as she continued to speak. “This was supposed to be dealt with two years ago.” She removed and folded up her glasses and levitated a newspaper to her right on the table and unfolded it.
The newspaper was one printed in the Griffin Kingdom. Its front cover featured a black-and-white photograph of a dozen changelings in filthy, ragged military uniforms sitting down in shoddy camps in a mountainous environment. The headline read in its native Griffin, ‘CHANGELING DESERTION AUF REKORDHOCH’.
“This was supposed to be over!”
She threw the newspaper back on the table with a loud ‘thud’ and though they tried to remain stone faced and quiet, the stallions in the room visibly cringed, while the mares did a better job of keeping themselves composed. For the stallions, they praised the gods that these meetings were strictly cut off from the outside world so none of their fellow stallions could see them in their position. Even for a female dominated society, for a changeling stallion to be emasculated in such a way by a mare was an absolute disgrace amongst themselves, even if that mare was the Queen.
“What do you have to say for your failure?"
They kept their lips buttoned. They all knew she wanted answers, but none dared speak out of turn.
“You!” she suddenly snapped, pointing at the Defence Minister. “I’m talking to you!”
He felt his mane blow by the force of her voice. The now pudgy, middle-aged politician amongst hardened military changelings looked dismally down at the damning statistics printed on the stack of documents before him that were thick enough for an encyclopaedia volume. Knowing he was doomed whatever he said, he gathered his bravery and bit the bullet.
“Your Majesty, the situation of our kingdom’s army is out of control,” he declared, not in shame or righteous indignation but as pure statement of fact. “Desertions by our soldiers have never been at such a shameful high in our military history. Our official estimates are placing the figure between 15,000 to 20,000 soldiers a year.”
“I know all that. What I want to know is how you’ve allowed this to happen.”
“Our research has uncovered numerous alarming factors that are contributing to this crisis.” The minister turned over the documents as he read them out, “Lack of efficient weapons and supplies… squalid living conditions… harsh treatment by commanding officers…”
Chrysalis forced herself to laugh, not out of genuine amusement but derision. “So, heh heh… you’re telling me either my soldiers are soft, undisciplined cowards, or my commanding officers are ridiculously incompetent? Or better yet, both?” She then composed herself and sighed, “Alright, I’ll accept that. It sounds perfectly believable when you really think about it, doesn’t it? Just tell me what you’ve decided to do about it.”
“We are ahead of it, Your Majesty,” spoke one tall, strongly built general in a gruff, baritone like voice. “We’ve already rounded up 400 deserters this month in the southern region and they will all pay the ultimate price.”
“Yes, but simply executing them will only deter the problem,” said the minister. “It will not stamp it out.” He immediately regretted it when he found himself under his Queen’s glare.
“As much as I hate to admit, for once, I agree with you, Gryllus,” she grumbled as her glare shifted from him to the general whom had spoken. “You’re free to hunt these deserters down like animals, General, but I don’t just want public displays, I want a permanent solution.”
“Then how do you suppose we stamp out the problem, Minister?”
It seemed the minister had landed himself in a boiling tub of hot water, until an elderly silver-maned changeling sitting near Chrysalis, wearing a medal decorated and gold trimmed military uniform that indicated the rank of Gensui, a field marshal, calmly interjected.
“Your Majesty, if I may…” the Gensui spoke softly but with an officer’s authority, readjusting his large, round glasses. “My fellow officers and I have been discussing the matter the last three months in private.” He motioned to the other senior officers sitting to his left and right, most of them mares. “We have put together a… possible solution to our dilemma.”
Chrysalis looked far more interested in what this changeling had to say than the others. “Go on.”
“We would prefer it if we could tell you in private.”
“I’m sure whatever you want to say to me, you can say in front of your fellow officers.”
The Gensui was, at first, silent, but then continued, “Your Majesty, my fellow Gensui and I have come to a consensus that these current problems facing our army can be traced down to one source: the army is simply too big and unsustainable.”
“I see. And you’re suggesting…?”
He accepted long before this meeting that he said next would place his reputation and honour amongst most of his fellow officers, the army and the kingdom on the line. He summoned the courage and drew a breath before speaking.
“As regrettable as it is, the best course of action for our army and the kingdom as a whole… is a steep reduction in military personnel and expenditure.”
The moment these words were spoken, the entire room erupted in an unholy chorus of apoplectic outrage. Many of the officers and politicians stood up and began yelling and hurling accusations not just at the Gensui but even at each other. But the Gensui and his comrades sat straight-faced and silent with theirs head held high the whole time, the others’ harsh words bouncing off them like they were nothing.
“Unthinkable!”
“Such thinking is treason!”
“Silence him! He insults our army!”
“ENOUGH!”
The room fell silent once again at the sound of the Queen’s ear-piercing screech. Her wings burst out from her kimono and she flew into the air, her terrifying shadow cast over them all as she hovered above in mid-air.
“I am disgusted with you! You have the gall to call yourselves changelings!? Let alone leaders of our army!?” She screamed at them without relent. “Prince Pincer is your honoured superior and senior! You will all show respect!” Burning fury glowed from the narrowed slits that were her harlequin eyes and the stallions in the room felt their pride stripped from them and reduced to six-year-old colts.
She calmed herself down, pushing a strand of her mane back into place, before speaking to them with greater restraint, “All of you, except for Prince Pincer and Minister Gryllus, are dismissed. We will reconvene in one hour.”
Heads held low and tails hanging between their legs, the officers and politicians, save for those named, trekked their way out of the meeting room. A couple of them were considerate enough to pick up General Antenaka’s body and carry it out with them.
“And this conversation does not leave this room!” she barked after them. “Do you hear me?! It does not leave this room!”
Once they were all gone, Chrysalis used her magic to lock the door and cast a charm to ensure nothing could be heard from the outside.
She dropped back to her sitting position in front of the table, sighing through her nostrils and crossing again her numb legs just as pins and needles settled in. The minister took the time to take a drink of water to help clear his head.
Prince Pincer removed his glasses and polished them with a cloth he levitated out of his breast pocket, saying to her, almost amusingly, “Your officers are young, head-strong and overzealous. Heh heh, they remind me of myself when I was a youth.”
Chrysalis, on the other hoof, did not look so amused. “Uncle…” she began, sounding relatively restrained, but with an underlining frustration in her voice. “You know I’ve always respected you. I mean, you’ve always been here to counsel me, especially when most officers your age would normally retire.”
“Thank you,” he nodded.
“Then how could you of all changelings even think such a thing?” she asked, anger now surfacing in her voice. She may have respected him as she said, but that did not mean she hung on his every word. “I can't shrink the army! No ruler in our history has ever done such a thing.”
He retained his stoic expression, telling her simply, “I only wish for you to do what is logical and best for your kingdom.”
“You consider it logical?”
The old Prince sighed and donned his glasses. He took her hoof in his and looked into her eyes, a lot like how he did when she was small.
“I am a good few hundred years old, my niece,” he said, his voice croaking but carrying a strong air of wisdom. “I have seen many wars and their battles, nations rise and fall, and dictators and petty tyrants boast how they’ll rule the world one day and executed by insurgents the next. What’s happening to your army is what has happened to countless others: it is becoming defunct.”
This explanation only baffled her only more. “How can you say that?”
“Your army has well over two million changelings at your command this very moment, dear niece. What, pray tell, are you doing with them other than stand around?”
“You know it’s not as simple as that—” she tried, though she already knew that would do little against her uncle’s sharp mind.
He raised an eyebrow skeptically. “Are you at war?”
“No.”
“Is there civil unrest?”
“No!”
“What about Manechuria?”
She did not answer right away. Instead, she scrunched her eyes shut and bit her fangs down on her lip. Manechuria. The very name was a trigger for another migraine.
For hundreds of years, the Changeling Kingdom had its eye on the sparsely populated, resource and love-rich land of Manechuria, which had obvious advantages for their densely populated and resource and love-depleted kingdom. Past rulers sought to exploit the land to the north, some preferring to trade, others wanting to just march right in and take it. It was but another additional weight on the incumbent monarch’s shoulders, and how exactly did Chrysalis feel towards the whole thing?
“Blah! Manechuria, Manechuria, Manechuria!” She repeated the name with such contempt, wrinkling her snout as if the word itself was unclean. “I’m sick of everychangeling talking about Manechuria. No, Uncle, I’m not going to invade Manechuria! Why in Tartarus would I?”
That was not the answer he was looking for, but he went along with it. Shrugging, he offered, “Resources, territory, some love to take back to the kingdom. Not like you used to need a reason." He smiled fondly at the recollection. "I remember how much you used to enjoy the thrill of conquest when you were a younger mare, before Cant--” He stopped himself then and there, seeing the scowl forming on her face.
There was one rule to remember if you worked with or answered directly to Chrysalis, even if you were family: you never mention that invasion in front of her, at least not by name.
“… the incident in Equestria.”
“I’m done with invasion and conquest, Uncle.” Chrysalis rested her face glumly in her hoof, glazing her eyes over the map and making some of the little figures hover in the air. “It’s not fun anymore. It used to be about just going in in disguise, destroy them from within, and then take all the love we could get. But now it’s all just…”
“Politics?” Pincer shrugged.
“Money?” Minister Gryllus offered, the reminder of his presence in the room almost making Chrysalis jump.
“Yeah, that’s all it is now,” she said, rolling her eyes and dropping the figures back onto the table. “It’s all red tape, and League of Nations, and trying to keep our allies holding hooves and how much money we’re gonna lose if we invade. After that clusterbuck in... you know... none of it seems worth the headaches.”
Minister Gryllus thought it best to chip in, “And we already have plenty of extraterritorial rights there as it is. We own hundreds of Manechurian factories and ports there, and not to forget the South Manechurian Railway, that’s a real gem.”
“Why conquer Manechuria if we can just own it?”
“I agree, absolutely. So tell me...” Pincer said, his expression turning hard and serious. They had got a bit off topic there. “Why do you still insist on keeping such a large, uncontrollable army?”
Chrysalis was trapped. She wanted to give an answer and put the matter to rest, but she drew a blank. Everything he said was true; he even tricked her into talking about how right he was. That was clever Uncle Pincer. Her grandmother always said he should have gone into politics.
“I can’t do it, Uncle,” she sighed, but with no hint of defiance in her voice or assurance in her own arrogance. It was the only thing she could regurgitate. “It’s just not done.”
Pincer would not yield. He had her on the ropes. “But you can be the one to do it. The army must be reformed or it will inevitably collapse. You must make the right choice.”
She scoffed, “Right choice, Uncle? When have I ever been able make the right choice?”
“Chrysalis…”
“In case you have not noticed, every decision I make is leading to disaster!” she cut across. “If isn't the food, it’s the army! And if it’s not that, it’s my dau--” She caught her tongue at the last moment and paused before telling Gryllus sharply, “Minister, could you give us a moment?”
“Of course, Your Majesty.” Gryllus gathered his documents and was more than glad to scurry out of the room, which Chrysalis flicked her horn at and unlocked for him.
“What would our ancestors say if they saw this? What do you think he would say?!” She went on to rant, her voice heightening with anger once more as if at the flip of a switch.
“I know, but--”
Chrysalis stood up and pointed vehemently (and rather victoriously) up at the wall, from which hung a large portrait. It was of an enormous, menacing changeling dressed in a decorative military uniform, his dark holes of eyes created the haunting feeling of one being watched.
“No, you don't! He knew how to do things the right way! His subjects had faith and confidence in him! How could you expect any of them to support this!?”
She spun around and stormed frustrated up down the space between the table and the wall, grumbling under her breath.
“A decision may not be popular at the time, but that does not make it the wrong decision!” Pincer did his best to reason with her, but his pleas fell on deaf ears.
“But my father—”
“Chrysalis, you're not your father!” He at last shouted exasperated, arising and banging the table hard with his hoof. The declaration was enough to stop the Queen where she stood, bug eyed and mouth hanging slightly open. The old changeling appeared remorseful by his choice of words, but he continued, in a softer tone, “The kingdom your father ruled no longer exists, my niece. The next generation of changelings no longer wants to be soldiers. They want to go to university and become businesschangelings and officials.”
“They're kids...” she muttered, staring down at the floor dejectedly.
“Yes, but that is the way the tide is turning.” Pincer came up to her and gingerly placed his hoof under chin and lifted her up so she could look into her eyes. “I would never ask for the destruction of the changeling army. Heh, I’d be out of a job, now wouldn’t I? The army can and will still have its place in society, but the evidence it clear: it needs to change… just as we do.”
Chrysalis pulled herself away, turning her back to him, and muttering quietly but just enough for him to hear, “I need to think, Uncle. Please, leave me.”
“I understand.”
He left her alone in the room. For what in Chrysalis’ mind could have been hours, she did not remove from her chosen spot, staring off into space. When she got bored of that, she made her way over to one corner of the room.
Sticking out like a sore hoof and occupying the entirety of the room’s corner was a large globe made of precious smooth gem stones. It was a gift to their family from one of the Griffin Kaiser a couple hundred years ago, worth now approximately ten trillion yen, but left to gather dust here in one of the palace’s hundreds of rooms, and not even on show.
She put her hoof to its cold, smooth surface, appearing to admire it, until her horn glimmered and a split formed across the globe. It then flicked open to reveal an assortment of tall, fancy bottles of wine, spirits, a cocktail bar and other beverages. She took a cocktail glass and a long-necked pink bottle, uncorked it and took a whiff of the sparkling contents in inside.
“So much for my new year’s resolution,” she grumbled, pouring herself half a glass, and downed the whole thing in one gulp. She shivered slightly with the fur on her coat sticking up on end, and poured herself another. Lather, rinse, repeat.
Dusk settled over the kingdom, obscured in the capital by the gathering clouds. They created a heavy rumble over the city, sending the changelings the message a storm was brewing.
Pupa sat down alone in the same room in the eastern tower of the palace as earlier, hunched over a table with the same set of crayons and paper. Except now, she was all by herself.
Cerci had been called away to take her turn tending to one of the other princesses who required her assistance, leaving Pupa in the care of one of the other younger nannies. The little Princess, naturally, did not want her to leave but did not have a say in the matter.
The nanny she was left thing was younger and inexperienced. She only stayed with Pupa for five minutes before she decided to take a “quick sake break” with one of the guards, leaving the filly all alone with her drawings.
Switching a green for a red crayon, Pupa stopped. She felt a slight chill up her curved spine. She looked behind her, but there was nothing but the small decorated walls and the flickering candle the nanny left behind.
She had been gone for a long time now and Pupa was becoming scared by how dark it was becoming. It must have been nearly her bedtime by now, where was her nanny? Where was Cerci? She would make it better.
You’re a stupid girl.
Pupa’s eyes twitched. It were those voices again; the little voices that came from somewhere, but Pupa could never see where. They went away and came back when they pleased. She had not heard from them in a while.
Your mommy hates you. She thinks you’re stupid.
Why don’t you just go away? Nochangeling likes you.
Curling up over her table and covering her ears, she tried to block them out. The voices said some of the meanest things. But it was no use; the voices rang as clear as a bell.
Your drawings are horrible.
You know Cerci doesn’t like you, either.
We hate you!
A flash of light and a rumble came from outside the partly window, followed by the heavy sound of rain. It did not drown the voices, though.
Get back to work.
Finish it.
You’re so slow.
She hurried to finish her drawings, the ones she had been working on for hours. They were sloppily drawn and she managed to colour more outside the lines than in, but she was satisfied with them and when she was finished, held the paper up and smiled with pride.
It was for her mother. A gift to say sorry for the embarrassment and dishonour she caused her earlier that day.
It’s wonderful.
She’ll love it.
Take it to her.
She knew she could not give it to her mother personally. She was still very busy with her meetings. That was not much of a problem; she could just put it in her bedroom for her to see. She had been in and out of her mother’s bedroom plenty of times.
Holding the paper in her mouth, Pupa got on all fours and crawled out the room through the door her nanny left ajar.
Chrysalis pupil shrank to pinpricks under the bright light. The doctor switched the miniature torch off and levitated it back in his white coat pocket and allowed the Queen blink a couple of times while he jotted down some notes on his clipboard.
While Prince Pincer was an old changeling in every sense of the word, Chrysalis’ personal doctor was so ancient, and so withered, he looked as if he was constructed of black leather strips. His pristine white lab coat clung to his frail frame as he shuffled around the small, cupboard like examination room.
“Your eyes are failing, Your Majesty,” he said, not looking up from his clipboard. “You’re going to need glasses in two years best.”
She rubbed her eyelid, saying, “I already have glasses.”
“Glasses you’ll need to wear all the time.”
“They’ll make me look like an old mare!” she growled, crossing her forelegs and squirming on the table like a defiant filly.
He held his hooves up pacifyingly, saying, “Well, there is an alternative; a Griffin ophthalmologist has recently come up with this new invention...” He levitated a brown leather covered book from a nearby table and opened it up so she could see the chapter he was looking for and the diagram it contained. “It is called a con-tact lens.”
“A what?”
“Yes, I know it sounds ridiculous, but basically these are like glass lenses except you stick them on your eyes.”
Chrysalis winced at the mental image of pieces of glass shoved in somechangeling’s eyes. “That sounds like some form of torture.”
“Maybe, but I hear they’re selling like hot cakes in the Griffin Kingdom and Equestria. I would recommend at least trying them. Now, about your medication…” He put the book back and set his clipboard down and pulled something out of his coat pocket: a small jar of pills. “You told me the other day you’ve been having back problems with your headaches. In that case, the best option is to up your medication.”
She felt her heart leap at the sight of that jar and she started salivating. Her pills. Oh, how she needed them. It had been hours since she took them before going down for breakfast. If she had not the slightest self-control, she might have snatched the jar from mid-air and swallowed them all at once.
“Give them to me,” she ordered. “And some water.”
With a seeming reluctance, the doctor gave her the jar and poured her a paper cup of icy cold water by the sink. Chrysalis, meanwhile, unscrewed the lid and looked feverishly upon the many large, blood red capsules inside.
“How many?”
“Four in the morning, four before you go to bed.”
She snatched the cup, popped two capsules in her mouth and took a long drink. She swirled the water about, allowed the pills to dissolve a bit, waiting until she could taste the bitterness before swallowing. She had stop to catch her breath, before doing the same thing with another two capsules. The doctor watched on as she did this, his face slowly scrunching up in concern.
“My Queen...” he began tentatively, rubbing his shrivelled hooves together. “I trust you have not been taking more than I recommend for you. These pills are highly addictive and have serious side effects like mood swings.”
“Noted, doctor,” she said sharply, taking another sip of water to rid herself of the bitter aftertaste.
He immediately bowed apologetically. “Forgive me, Your Majesty, it is just that these pills have a bit of notoriety about them. They are outlawed in certain countries.”
“Well, then I trust in your capabilities not to give your Queen an overdose.” Chrysalis felt the burning sensation shoot up her back as she got down from the table, the pills not yet taking affect, which she tucked into her kimono. “Before I go, can you look at one more thing?”
“Of course.”
Hesitantly, the Queen craned her head, letting her thinning mane down before him. The doctor did not have to ask what the problem was.
“Oh, Your Majesty, such a problem is common with Aging.” He bit his tongue when he heard a threatening growl escape her throat. “Um, that and stress, a lot of stress.”
She groaned, flicking back her mane and straightening back up. “What can you do?”
“All I suggest for that is engaging in less stressful activities, like more sleep and--”
“Thank you, doctor.”
With that and a pat on her kimono to know her pills were safe, Chrysalis turned to leave the examination room. But when she reached out her hoof to open the door, she was shocked when it suddenly fwooshed open.
“Your Majesty!”
It was Cerci standing there in the doorway, accompanied by another nanny, the younger one whose care she temporarily left Pupa. They were both appeared positively distraught. Cerci looked the worst. All the colour had drained from her face, leaving it a sickly pale grey; her mane was a mess with several strands falling over her face, and she was clutching her tight chest as she inhaled like a tired old mule on his last leg.
Chrysalis did not have to be a master of reading facial expressions to know something terrible had happened.
“What happened?” she asked, eyes widening. She had this horrible feeling she already knew.
Cerci roughly grabbed her younger counterpart and shoved her towards Chrysalis, shouting with a renewed sense of rage, “Tell her!”
“Tell me what?!”
The younger nanny tried to tell her, but the words came out jumbled and incoherent. “The Princess! She--she, I mean… I just went out for a second and—I mean, she was busy drawing... and… and--”
“SPIT IT OUT!”
“Cerci lost your daughter.”
“YOU WHAT?!” she practically squawked.
Cerci, on the other hoof, looked repulsed by her subordinate’s claim. “I lost her?! You little--”
“See?”
In a flash of bright bilious green, the two insectoid mares were flung and pinned up against the wall in the hallway, the force of it nearly knocking a few overhanging paintings off their hooks. They clung to each other, physically shrinking when Chrysalis’ muzzle came inches from theirs.
The Queen’s eyes burned with the fiery intensity of the sun. Her teeth were barred, showing off every canine and molar that looked sharp enough to tear apart flesh like tissue paper. The tip of her horn was even glowing like an enormous green hot poker, and the two mares began sweating by the overwhelming heat radiating from it.
“This is the second time,” she said through gritted teeth. “The second time you’ve lost Pupa. Are you even aware of your incompetence!? If she gets hurt, so help me, Cerci...”
“I’m sorry, my Queen, we’ll find her, I promise!”
“Oh, shut up!” She roared, spittle firing over their faces. “I’m giving you an hour, Cerci! You hear me? You have one hour to have Pupa standing in front of me. And if you don’t...” Their muzzles were now pressed hard against each other. She lowered her voice to a chilling whisper, “Losing your job will be the least of your problems.”
She released them and they fell hard to the floor on their haunches.
“Now go! Find her! NOW!”
Neither mare needed to be told twice and galloped at full speed down the hallway, heading in the direction of the servants’ quarters to rally the search for the missing Princess.
Chrysalis remained there in the hallway for a moment or two, her mind still processing what had transpired. This... was the last thing she needed today. The meetings, the army, her medication, and now this!
“Aaaaaaaggghhh!” Her hooves flew up to the sides of her head as an intense pain suddenly shot through the inside of her skull. The pain was so excruciating, she let her upper abdomen to fall on the floor and kept her head covered as her hind legs were kept up straight.
After several minutes, the pain subsided and she forced herself back up to all fours. Cold sweat was running down her face and a loud, thumping pulse made its way onto the side of her neck. When were those damn pills going to come into effect?
Blam! She opened her eyes again and saw with amazement through the fading green haze the smouldering, burnt remains of what was a marble bust of her great grandmother. A magical discharge. She had not had one of those since she was a teenager.
Check the destruction of a priceless family heirloom to the list.
Chrysalis backed up against the wall, horrified. It was all too much. Chocking back a sob, the Changeling Queen collapsed to the floor, pulling up her hind legs and finally allowed the tears to come rolling down her cheeks.