//------------------------------// // Chapter Seven // Story: Maternal Instinct // by Magic Man //------------------------------// Maternal Instinct Chapter Seven “NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Chrysalis was flying through the air at an incredible speed, a screaming grey and cerulean rocket over the Equestrian skies. Her legs flailed about helplessly, unable to regain control or slow herself down. The wind was whistling so loud in her ears, she could not make out the millions of thoughts racing through her head or even her screams of rage and anguish. Through the pinkish haze in her eyes she could see Canterlot castle, her precious war prize, shrinking into the distance until all she could see was a microscopic white speck, and the sight of her glorious army being scattered in all directions from the city. She did not know when it would end; she was not slowing down and by now, she was probably going so fast that if she collided with something, it would likely kill her instantly. If anything, she would welcome it. She had been so close; the Princess was neutralized, the city was completely under her army’s occupation, and the one stallion who provided one of her biggest obstacles was under her control. It would have all come together... if not for that worthless unicorn. Twilight Sparkle! She would curse the name until the day she died! It was all because of her she was defeated by the skin of her fangs. Her victory, her imperial conquest, her honour, all snatched from her with a single magical pulse of love. LOVE! Her own food! To be defeated by love… it was the oldest cliché in the book! Right now, death would be a mercy. She felt a sudden burning sensation crawling all over skin, quickly engulfing her whole body, like somechangeling poured gallons of oil over her and set her alight. She looked herself over: her body was glowing bright red and cerulean mane burst into yellow and orange flames. She was burning up like a comet entering the planet’s atmosphere! The flames poured into her parted lips, cutting short her screams and proceeded to burn her from the inside. The pain became unbearable. She would have given anything right then and there for her life to just end. Then everything went black. Her body was no longer burning, nor was her mane ablaze. She actually felt herself enticed by a biting chilly breeze, enough to make her legs shiver and goosebumps rise under her fur. She opened her eyes and oddly enough, in the pitch black of wherever she was standing, she made out her perfectly intact and unharmed legs and mane, the latter hanging down the side of her face. “Hello?” she called out, her voice shivering. No response, not even her own echo. Was she dead? Was this what death was like? She had not thought about it a lot in her young, indolent life. What changeling of a healthy mind would spend their days mulling over something so depressing? The frightening thought crawled into her weary head the longer she was there, forcing herself to walk forward, only to be met with more of the same darkness: was this really it? An endless, hollow black void where she was sentenced to spend the rest of eternity, existing but at the same time not? She heard something. It was very quiet, only just reaching her ears. She stopped and cocked her ear, listening carefully; a filly was crying. “Who’s there?” she demanded, trying to put on her boldest front but failing. “Show yourself!” The crying grew louder and closer, but no matter where she turned, she could not find where it was coming from. When it sounded like the source of the crying was right next to her ears… it stopped, and the chilling silence returned. For one moment, believing it was gone and feeling genuinely safe, she heaved a sigh of relief. That was... until she heard it. “Mommy...?” Chrysalis felt her blood turn to ice. She turned around, looked down and had to hold back a scream. “P-P... Pupa?” It was her daughter, sprawled out and laying still on the ground, but she was not how Chrysalis remembered her. Her coat was coarse and rough, stained and clotted with old blood, and her flesh was badly rotting away, revealing in some places her tiny virgin white bones. Her half-open eyes were white and opaque instead of green, and her upper lip appeared to have been ripped off, revealing a set of rotted yellow teeth. Large, hoof-shaped gashes covered her body, all of them pumping out a nonstop flow of an aluminous green liquid that half-drowned the decomposing filly’s body in a sickly pond. Her royal kimono was reduced to the tattered remains of some loose garb more befitting a street urchin. To top off the stomach-churning effect, a swarm of flies buzzed around the decaying body, flying in an out of the exposed flesh, gorging themselves sick on their rancid feast. Her baby... “PUPA!” Chrysalis got down on her knees and furiously swatted the ravenous flies away from her little one. She reached in and pulled her out, even as the bilious green liquid badly burned her legs. She caressed her little head; her skin was freezing cold to the touch. She was stone dead. “No... please, no,” she whimpered, her voice quivering and her squinched shut, but the tears were running freely regardless. “Please, Pupa, I’m... I’m sorry. I’m so sorry! Don’t... don’t...” She broke down, rocking Pupa back and forth, weeping for the loss of her daughter. “Mommy...?” Chrysalis gasped. She stared down at Pupa’s face, but no words were coming from her mouth. “Mommy!” She spun around and this time, she was forced to scream out loud. It was another filly… only this one was younger and much more decomposed than her counterpart. Half her body was just a whittled, mottled skeleton, the other an assortment of tightly stretched, blood drained, peeling skin, barely clinging onto its owner. Her kimono was a greater wreck than Pupa’s, with almost no colour dye left visible. The most horrifying part was her mouth from which her lips had completely gone and which hung open and loose like a broken door hinge. To Chrysalis, it looked like something plucked from the deepest darkest region of her subconsciousness. “Mommy,” the filly sniffled, her voice sounding like the noise dry leaves make as they rustle across a pavement, wiping tears leaking out her only functioning eye (the other had rotted from existence) with her rough, coarse sleeve. “Why did you leave me?” The Queen regained herself, enough that she found herself able to whisper. “Wh... who are you?” At a snail’s pace, she walked to her... no, not walking. Walking needs some kind of will power and determination behind it. This filly was just moving. From her slacked jaw emanated a disembodied wail straight from the pits of Tartarus. “Mommy, why did you leave me all alone?!” Chrysalis’ jaw dropped and her pupils shrunk down to pinpricks. She instinctively held Pupa close, trying to shield her from harm and scrambled backwards on her haunches, trying to get away from this… thing. It was not possible! It could not be! “No. NO! Stay back! Get away from us!” “Mommy, what did you do to our sister?” It was a different voice, belonging to a very young colt. Chrysalis looked over her shoulder and saw a colt, still in his grub form, but by appearance it was difficult to tell if he even was a changeling for almost all his flesh had deteriorated, leaving his bare bones. There was a massive hole on the crown of his skull, exposing the mount of dust that must have been his pulverized brain. He could not crawl on his belly and could only flounder on the spot like a stranded fish. “Why isn’t she moving, Mommy? Is she dead?” Chrysalis desperately wanted to look away from the abomination, but she could not. It was like a train wreck: no matter how horrifying it was, there was something about it that kept your eyes locked on. “I... I…” “She’s dead!” A third voice screeched. “Mommy got rid her because she was bored with her! Just like the rest of us!” This hateful accusation really seemed to strike Chrysalis. “Th-that’s not true! I loved you all--” It was too late. There were now more lurching out of the dark abyss by the second, dozens of decaying fillies and colts dressed in royal kimonos shambling towards her in a ravenous, moaning hoard. It was like something plucked straight out of one of those films that kept coming out of the Griffin Kingdom about the dead coming back to life and started attacking the local village. Now here they were and with eyes filled with hatred and sorrow, they had trapped her in a circle of death, their disembodied voices mixing together in morbid hymn of blood curdling mournful screaming. “YOU DON’T LOVE US!” “YOU ABANDONED US!!” “No, I didn’t abandon y--” “WHY, MOMMY? WHY?” “WE HATE YOU!” Chrysalis threw up a little in her mouth. The collective stench of their rotting flesh was overwhelming. “NO!” She cried, holding Pupa against her breast and physically shrinking as they advanced, thunderous step by step, closing in, leaving her no room to escape. “PLEASE! PLEASE DON’T KILL ME! I’M YOUR MOMMY! I DO LOVE YOU! I DO LOVE YOU!” "LIAR!” They chanted demonically over and over again. “ALL YOU DO IS LIE! LIE! LIE!" “You lied, Mommy.” She looked down, but this time the words had failed her. Pupa came alive, eyes flickering with poisonous green fire, staring right into her soul. Her exposed teeth creaked into what was supposed to be some sick, twisted smile. “You always lie.” Before Chrysalis could even blink, Pupa latched herself onto her neck and stuck her tiny but sharp fangs into her tender flesh. Chrysalis howled with agony and fell on her back, unable to throw her off. Pupa cackled malevolently, sucking the sweet, sweet love from her mother’s neck, splashing it all over muzzle. The others joined in, swarming on top of her and biting into every inch of her flab like hundreds of giant angry fire ants flash eating a dead animal. She was buried within seconds, her screams muffled and her children’s collective weight stopping her from resisting them. She knew this time she was truly doomed. She felt death approaching with each drop of her essence leeched by her children, the White Changeling of Death resting its hoof on her forehead. “YOU HAVE FAILED, MY DAUGHTER.” No. Please. “D… Daddy? No, I haven’t!” Her eyes peered through the hideous forms of her attacking children, and up high in the abyss she saw it. Two colossal, terrifying eyes obliterated the darkness with the intense glow of a bright green sun. “YES! YOU HAVE BROUGHT DISHONOUR TO YOUR KINGDOM AND YOUR FAMILY!” “SHUT UP!” Chrysalis screamed in despair. “AND NOW YOU WILL BE PUNISHED FOR YOUR DISGRACE! GO, MY YOUNG ONES, PUNISH YOUR MOTHER!” ‘This is just a dream! It isn't real, it can’t be real!’ Her mind yelled, but the chanting ringing in her ears drowned it out, reducing it to a non-existent voice in a room of hundreds. The biting, the tearing of her flesh, her very soul being sucked up like love soup, it all felt so real. It had to be real! This was her end. The end of her long, difficult, miserable life. After all the things she did, the creatures she hurt, maybe it was the end she deserved. At long last, she let out one last primal whine and in turn her final breath, having now accepted her fate... And then she woke up. It took her minutes to catch her breath and regain her senses. She was back in her royal chamber, lying on top of her bed. The candles were long snuffed out, leaving the room in pitch darkness. Everything was still a mess: the purple covers were still on the floor and the ink and frothy puddles of her paperwork had mostly dried up. She could not identify where all the blood was, it blended so well in the dark, but the putrefied metallic smell ran up her nostrils and made her gag. Nochangeling else besides her had been inside her chamber since the... incident. She came straight back here from the hospital, ordering nochangeling to disturb her. Ignoring the wreckage around her, she flopped lifelessly against her ruined bed and fell right asleep. How long had she been sleeping? The pitch black in her small windows indicated it must have been very early morning at least. The doors creaked and a thin ray of light entered the room. Chrysalis hissed at the intrusion, her solace in her peaceful dark now ruined. “Your... Majesty?” a young maid’s voice squeaked, poking her muzzle slightly into the room. “Who are you?” she snapped, making the innocent child recoil out of fear. “What do you want?” “Th-they sent me to check on you. They… want to know when we can start cleaning your room. I-I didn’t mean to intrude on your--” “I told you all I didn’t want to be disturbed!” “I... I know, my Queen, I told them that, it-it’s that, they--” She did not want to hear it. “Just... get out.” “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” “GET OUT!” A bilious green light exploded out of her horn, illuminating the entire room. The maid cried in fear and ran for her life. A thin surge from Chrysalis’ horn’s tip slammed the doors and magically sealed them shut. Now nochangeling could bother her. The light from her horn remained for a while, but her indignation had already extinguished, and in no time, a sharp pang of regret took its place. Something deep inside told her that was uncalled for. The kid was only doing her job. Just like that groomer whose hooves she bit and who she figured was most surely going to need stitches and disinfection. She made one little mistake. It was not like another lock of mane was not going to grow back in the other’s place. And Pupa... A large ice cube dropped into her stomach. Her nightmares had the comfort of the fact they would end. But this, this was real. Flashbacks of the events of the previous hours played continuously in her mind and the overpowering feeling of guilt proved her long stress nap futile. She could not deal with it now. She needed to go back to sleep. Chrysalis held her sides and shivered. She had slept without the comfort of her covers or pillow. She laid back down, but when she rested her head against the pillow, she noticed there was something there. That’s when she found the picture. Through the nights of the year, there was music from Castle Discord, the towering and bizarrely designed flying fortress that cast a shadow the size of Ponyville over the Equestrian planes during its nonstop drifting through the gentle blue skies. Every night at sundown, it lowered itself to the ground of whatever town or city it happened to drift over and opened its gates to the populace who, be they rich or poor, native or immigrant poured into the swung open gates to party. The orange glows that shone out of the castle’s two hundred windows became a swarm of fireflies in the night, and without a moment of pause, the full orchestra, combined with the use of the technology of the modern age, played one grotesque symphony to the next, and local residents quickly found that filing a complaint of disturbance to or regarding the Marquess of Chaos was a meaningless gesture. When morning came, the ravages of the night before were repaired with a quick snap of the lord of the castle’s talons and everything was already ready for the festivities the following night. Ponies were not invited to Castle Discord – they just went there, providing they were within travelling distance. Once they were past the open gates, they conducted themselves according to the rules and behaviour best associated with an amusement park. Sometimes they came and went without having met the Marquess at all, not that most would have wanted to. So when Princess Celestia, who was settling down for the night in her own royal chamber after a long, arduous day of paperwork and tedious bureaucratic procedure, received a letter from said castle via Spike, urgently requesting her presence there, she was more than a little surprised. She knew she had no choice; when Discord called upon you, he was not going to take ‘no’ for an answer. Begrudgingly getting off her cosy, welcoming bed and not bothering to squeeze herself into some tight-fitting, gaudy dress that cut off her breath – it was a personal request, not a party invite – Princess Celestia took flight from her chamber balcony and headed in Castle Discord’s direction. ‘Whatever this is, Discord, it better be good.’ Tonight, the castle had settled down at the foot of the mountain on top of which Canterlot was situated. It made sense, being as it allowed for partygoers both from the glamorous capital and the wholesome town of Ponyville. The party was well underway. Floating rounds of pitchers of cider, fruit cocktails and chocolate milk seeped from the bar inside the castle into the gardens, and already the air was alive with incessant chatter and boisterous laughter, along with introductions forgotten on the spot, informal deals made on a whim and a casual speciesist joke here and there. As she flew over the castle gardens from her camouflage up high in the darkness of the night sky, the Princess of the Sun got a good glimpse of the social and ethnic melting pot of guests. There were the upper crust unicorn aristocracy of Canterlot, the middle class businessponies, the simple working class farmers and manual workers. There were statesmen from all over the world who had the power to make or break nations; there were the changeling and zebra immigrants who arrived in Equestria only a week ago, could not speak a lick of the language and wandered about seemingly in a daze, serving drinks and hors d'oeuvres. The fact that Discord managed to get all these different groups together, whether most of them wanted to acknowledge the others’ presence or not, was in and of itself an achievement. Celestia looked around the cryptic design of the castle, searching for a balcony to land. Landing in the middle of a crowd would naturally attract too much unwanted attention for the supreme ruler of Equestria. She could not be sure which balcony lead to Discord’s chambers or whether he would even be there, but patience was a virtue, one you certainly learned after living well over a thousand years. She picked the nearest, which happened to be the biggest and hoped her search would be short. Once she landed on the balcony and trotted inside the castle, Celestia took a good look around. The room she entered was not only disproportionately larger than it appeared from outside, but the décor was far too... tame to be Discord’s residence. Royal red fabrics hung from the ceiling, reaching one corner to another. The furniture was standard, what with a sofa on side and a beauty mirror on the other. It actually looked more like a mare’s room than a stallion’s, or a chimera’s in this case. She must have got it right, but if so, who did live here? Celestia heard a low moaning sound. It was coming from the room’s bed, surrounded by a majestic set of jewel encrusted Tyrian purple curtains. She was not alone. Slowly and with a slight curiosity, she approached the bed and listened closer. The moaning was becoming louder and more intense. She should have known better than to prod, but everypony had their momentary lapse of judgement, even Celestia. She poked her hoof into the parting of the curtains and pushed it open. “Disc-- oh, oh my goodness!” They were two mares, both young, barely out of their teens; one a very fat unicorn whose body seemed to jiggle around like it was literally made of gelatine, the other a lean and muscular pegasus. Both of them were rolling around the mattress, wearing long, brightly coloured stripped socks over their legs, their bodies pressed firmly against each other in a tight hug and their lips locked in a violent wrestling match. They immediately stopped kissing and froze perfectly solid, so perfectly Celestia may have thought they had turned into still images from a photograph. Their eyes shot as wide as a poor critter who found themselves in front of an oncoming train, and when they turned their heads and saw Celestia standing over them, their dark blue and beige coats nearly turned snow white. The mares shrieked, throwing themselves off each other like the other was covered with disease, grabbing whatever blanket they could to cover themselves up. Celestia took several steps back, her pristine white cheeks flushing red with embarrassment like two ripe tomatoes. “Princess Celestia! W-we weren’t doing anything!” The unicorn spluttered, wrapping her legs around herself to cover her shame. “We-- we-- ohmygoshohmygoshohmygosh!” “I am so sorry!” The Princess apologized, covering her face with her hoof as she looked away. “I didn’t realize... oh, dear creator...” “Please don’t tell our parents!” The unicorn blubbered, already starting to break into tears. “Princess! It-- it wasn’t my idea! It was hers!” The pegasus began wiping lipstick off her face and pointed at her jumbo-sized bedfellow. “She talked me into it! I wanted nothing to do with it!” “What?!” The unicorn gasped, looking genuinely hurt. “How... how can you say that?” “No, I mean--” “Okay, this is now becoming boring. Get back to making out!” A pair of feral yellow and red pupil eyes creaked open on the overhanging canopy. Before anypony could react, Discord’s head sunk out from the fine wood and dropped onto the bed, the rest of his body following, right in between the two hot, sweltering mares. “Ladies,” was all he said, magicking up himself a fine cocktail in his claws. The unicorn screamed, her eyes gushing like water sprinklers. She leaped off the bed, making a straight gallop to the chamber doors. “Moonglow, wait!” the pegasus cried after her. “No! We’re through!” she spat, angrily pulling her socks off and storming out. “I wouldn’t wanna talk you into anything else!” She slammed the door behind her as hard she could. “Wow,” Discord sniggered, jabbing his talon in the direction of the door. “Now what do you suppose has got her socks in a twist?” “Grrr! You PIG!” The pegasus, red in the face and making a short deft movement, smacked Discord across the face, who only spat out his drink and exploded with uproarious laughter. She flew out the room, repeatedly calling her marefriend’s name. The spirit of chaos and disharmony rolled around the bed in hysterics. Celestia just stood there silently, glaring at him smoulderingly and tapping her hoof impatiently on the stone floor. “You’re disgusting,” she sneered. When Discord finally calmed down, he sat up straight, tidied himself a bit and seemingly for the first time that night, acknowledged her presence. He got up from the bed, bowed and took her hoof like he was about to kiss it. “Why, Princess Celestia, what an honour it is to have you at my little party. I trust your trip went well.” But the Princess was not amused, far from it. “Is this what you dragged me all the way from the castle for, Discord?” she asked crossly. “So I could watch you exploit and drool over innocent young mares?” “Exploiting? Oh, now Celestia, don’t be so prudish,” he rolled his eyes and teleported behind her, except now he was dressed in what Celestia could best describe in her head as trappings of the King of Candy Land. His attire consisted of a long, bright pink coat or justacorp, a plum waistcoat, a red cravat, an enormous powdered wig, and banana breeches. “Now, I can’t help how my guests behave or they decide to use my many rooms. There’s only one rule here at Castle Discord: there are no rules. So what’s to stop me from spectating on a couple of curious young mares exploring their... identities?” Celestia mentally sighed and turned away. What use was there in trying to reason with Discord of his errors and vices? She learned now to take most of his antics in stride; it was the only way to keep her sane when she was forced to spend more than five minutes with him, but even then it was not the most effective method. Her mind was more concerned and sympathetic towards those two unfortunate mares. She recognized them: the unicorn was the daughter of two prominent aristocrat philanthropists, and the pegasus was the daughter of a high up pegasus commander in the Royal Guard. Seeing these two in such a compromising position would be an ambitious paparazzo’s dream come true. “You really need to loosen up more. You need to learn how to, as they say, unwind?” His body curled up like a large metal coil, only to literally unwind himself. “Develop a sense of humour and fun.” “I do. You and I just have very different ideas of fun.” “One wonders how we ever fell out,” he tutted sarcastically, swirling about his cocktail. “One wonders. Now, about--” A tall sweating glass appeared before her in the blink of an eye, filled with iced tea and large cubes of ice and a cute little pink umbrella sticking out the top. “You must be thirsty after your journey,” he suggested simply, and the iced tea began changing into different drinks before reverting back to its first form. “Tea, coffee, cider, lime rickey, whatever you fancy, but do have a drink, Your Majesty.” She was tempted. She had not had a drink since dinner. She tipped the glass forward and took herself a taste. A smile curled the corners of her lips. It was sweet, with a tangy hint of lemon. Seconds later, she spat it right out, covering her mouth and her face wrinkling in revulsion. A long, hissing pale tongue stuck out of the glass, swaying about and taunting her playfully. The Princess growled, glaring daggers at Discord, who could barely restrain his laughter as he kept his drink to his lips. “I noticed you’re still brushing, Tia.” “Alright, that’s it,” Celestia hissed, her limits pushed. She flicked her tale dismissively and began heading for the balcony. “I’m not having this, Discord, not tonight.” She stopped in her tracks when Discord appeared in front of her in a sudden flash. “Where’re you going?” he asked with the kind of tone a curious foal would ask their aggravated parents. “Discord, move.” “So soon? Don’t you want to know why I called you here?” “Not if you’re just going to act like a foal!” Celestia brought her hoof to her face, the chill of her golden slipper providing some minor relief to the headache building up inside her skull. “Discord, it’s late and I’m tired. If you’ve honestly something important to tell me, then tell me, otherwise--” The Marquis took a long, heavy sigh of defeat and let slump his shoulders. “Oh, very well,” he groaned, snapping his talons and his attire changing to a maroon robe and a neat little fez atop his head and a pipe appearing in his claws. “If you wish to be a party pooper as always and talk serious, let’s talk serious.” He fell back and instead of landing against the stone floor, a collection of pink bubbles appearing in the form of a soft forelegchair, blowing a chain of bubbles out of his pipe. “To get straight to the point, Celestia, I’m afraid there’s trouble brewing overseas.” Celestia raised a sceptical eyebrow. “And you know this how?” Discord was not exactly the most influential noble in Equestrian politics. She preferred to keep him distant from actual government and policy for the most part unless need be. It was neither like he had publicly shown a particular interest in politics nor had his muzzle in the newspapers putting on display his political knowledge or special point of view. How would he know if something of political significant was going on overseas, especially before her? “My Discord sense, naturally.” “Oh, Discord, not that again…” she huffed, her tone now sounding more irate. She had listened to him brag so many times now about his so-called ability, how he could detect the chaos plaguing the world like some radar inside his head. She may had given him the benefit of the doubt, if not for his claims’ inconsistency and that they usually reared their head after the events happened. “Come now, Celestia, would I really be doing my job as spirit of chaos and disharmony if I wasn’t keeping my little radar on alert?” His blinked and his eyes turned dark green with little yellowing blinking in and out. “Oh, and in case you’re wondering, Pinkie Pie helped pick the name for it. That pony has such creativity and style...” “Yes, she has,” she said, without the slightest bit of enthusiasm traceable in her voice. “But getting back to the point, Discord...” “Oh, of course, that.” He casually pulled his legs up and rested them on the forelegrest and leaned back on the other, now looking somewhat bored. “I’m not sure if it’ll be of that much interest to you, though. It’s your dear old friend, Chryssie. Just a potential successional crisis that’s threatening to explode over in the Changeling Kingdom, that’s all. You know... the heir is in hospital, White Changeling of Death and all that mystical mumbo jumbo, future power vacuum, political and social unrest, all that jazz.” Celestia mouth dropped open slightly. She had to do a double take. “What?” Discord magicked up a nail and effeminately began doing his lion paw’s claws. “I mean, I wouldn’t necessarily place it on top priority, but I’d keep an eye on it. That or get some of your top stallions to form a committee or something like that.” He yawned loudly, holding his claws to his mouth. “After all, it’s not my position to dictate policy to you, is it?” He felt her smooth, cold slippers take him by the face. She turned his head and made him look her square in her steely, yet beautiful magenta eyes. “Discord…” she spoke slowly, icily. “From the top, tell me everything.”