//------------------------------// // Intermission -- Shackled Spirit // Story: My Little Changeling -- "I" is Magic // by Wing Dancer //------------------------------// Mother, why do you have us still train under those ponies? groaned Primo, relaxing into Chrysalis’ presence in the hive mind. We are ready! We ace every stupid ‘simulation’ they put us through! Shouldn’t we just gather our forces and attack? For once, I agree with Primo, chimed in Wildstar, nestling her psyche next to her older brother’s. While it’s fun to play these games, I don’t think they can show us anything new. We’re ready, Mother. We have enough spark-bearers to comfortably spread the load of command. Chrysalis physically smirked, concealing the emotion over the mind link. It was true that her… children, were ready. The ponies had long since stopped being useful, if not amusing in how hard they tried to impress her. The only thing holding back Chrysalis from giving the order to march out came up only recently, thanks to a changeling who was the most attentive observer of them all. After all, what else could one do while being trapped in a body controlled by another? I think you’re missing a few key points here, spoke the repressed spark of Dagaal. Its presence was very weak in the link, hardly noticeable to the other siblings. And what, pray tell, would that be? snarled Primo, looming over the flickering spark. He had half a mind to simply blow him away with his sheer presence, but he’d rather not risk the wrath of Mother over losing her favorite conversational partner. The traitor, answered Dagaal. We have no idea how much he and the others have done during their time. We begun our training hardly a month ago, correct? The traitor had double that time and the resources and support of the Princesses. For all we know, this might be a very elaborate trap. You worry more than Primo, brother, snarked Wildstar, toying around with a few lower tier drones’ minds. Even if he did something, anything, he and the softskins have no hope to stand against our sheer numbers. And how can you be so sure of that, Wildstar? Were you there? Did we send out spies to gather information? Hmm? Nooo, groaned the mare, slapping around her toy-drones in annoyance. But neither have you. Why do- The first lesson our pony teachers made us to remember was ‘Never underestimate your enemy’, cut in Dagaal, doing his best to make his voice stand strong against that of his siblings. We didn’t send out anyling to probe the situation out because we can’t be sure what they do and what they don’t know. They have a traitor who can sense us, a changeling who studied magic more than we have. He’s stronger, faster, and most likely more fed on love than any of us gathered here. A pang of hunger rippled through the hive. It was true, despite their greatest efforts the changelings couldn’t capture nearly enough ponies or gather any supplies. Most of the hive was starving and weak, the added labor of letting certain individuals grow straining the already thin supplies of food. Even the ponies had their rations cut down, their once toned bodies now undernourished and quivering. That’s even more reason to strike now! insisted Wildstar, showing Dagaal away with the volume of her mental voice. We need to do it fast, or else all our preparations will be for naught! Our drones won’t be able to tackle a foal if we delay any further! Mother, can’t you see- No The deep baritone that echoed through the mind link startled everyling into silence. Even Chrysalis was impressed that her most balanced and silent ‘son’ decided to put his two bits into the discussion. No what, Boulder? hissed Primo, focusing his attention on the changeling general. Despite his greatest efforts, he didn’t manage to make an impression on him. It was hard to be imposing onto a mental equivalent of a brick wall. I agree with Dagaal, stated Boulder, his voice neutral and calm. We need to wait. Silverline will find a way to contact us and feed us information about pony activity. Charging in blindly would cost us many drones, especially in our current state. Our dwindling supplies are the prime reason why we must make one swift blow count. Otherwise, we might not recover, exposing ourselves and provoking the enemy into action. Primo physically worked his jaw, clenching it in anger as he saw the truth in the tiny changeling’s words. Their biggest chance and largest fault were their sheer numbers. Granted, many drones died or were damaged beyond repair during exercises, but that still left hundreds of thousands to feed and control. Even if they flooded Equestria, a single well placed secret weapon or technique could bring their entire race to their knees. And then there was the traitor. It was sickening to think that a changeling could betray his mother. Even now, as they worked their flanks off under their pony teachers, Primo felt disgusted at how weak the equines were. Their bodies were soft, with no wings or fangs - the ideal prey for the mighty predators that were changelings. How could anyling choose those chitinless maggots over the warmth and love of the hive? Deep in his contempt, Primo blocked out Wildstar’s rant against Boulder’s point of view and disregarded Dagaal’s meek voice altogether. These quarrels were beginning to be irritably frequent, a poor sign of how restless they all grew from the lack of new stimuli. Primo slunk back into his body, rousing it and stretching his limbs. It was dark and quiet in the hole he lived in, a pleasant change from the heat and buzzing of a legion of changelings outside. As far as the first amongst the generals was concerned, they were ready, traitor or not. * * * The siblings’ quarrel ended, as always, with Chrysalis having to remind them who made the decisions around here. Her word was law, and right now she agreed with Boulder and Dagaal that waiting would be the best course of action. That did not stop Dagaal’s primary spark from disagreeing, though. Although it didn’t speak at all over the hive mind, it was evident that the massive behemoth craved nothing more than battle. Dagaal always focused on himself. His needs, his power, his freedom. In his mind he lived a rather unhappy life, being forced to do things he didn’t want when he wanted them the least. They made him fly when he preferred to run, relishing in the power his abnormal muscles granted him. He was forced to perform intricate spells when expelling raw mana felt so much better on the horn, the curves and notches deliciously buzzing while he electrocuted drones for fun and to spite the others. Still, nothing irritated Dagaal as much as the little voice that kept talking to him in the back of his head. He didn’t mind the hive link, that was easy to block out or ignore. What he couldn’t put a plug on was his second spark, that insistent little buzzer that screamed at him whenever he did what he pleased. ‘Dagaal, listen to the ponies’ this. ‘Dagaal, don’t rip that thing into shreds’ that. ‘FOR CHRYSALIS’ SAKE LET GO OF THAT PONY’S HEAD’ almost every time. All that on top of what the Queen wanted him to do, sometimes forcefully, drove the changeling mad. He wished for nothing more than to run, wild and free, roll around in the dirt or tackle a dozen or two drones in lethal combat. The concepts of conquest, serving Chrysalis or wanting to impress her were all lost on him. Only he mattered. Him and how caged he was! * * * Primo felt a vein throb under his neck plate as he observed Dagaal throw yet another fit in the training course. While it was fun to watch him chase around and snap at the panicking unicorns, it always ended in him having to overpower the wild changeling. He always hesitated going anywhere near that maelstrom of fury stuck under Dagaal’s thick skull, but it was his duty as the favorite son and first general to keep tabs on his siblings. “Dagaal, enough,” hissed Primo through gritted teeth, wrapping the rampaging monster in telekinesis. “I swear, one of these days I’m going to accidentally snap your goddamn neck and feed you to the drones,” he muttered, flinching as he felt the Queen brush over his psyche threateningly. Of course she would be watching, she always did. Helplessly flailing his hooves around, Dagaal shot a gaze soaked with hatred towards his older brother. He had a lot of frustration and anger to spare and very few outlets, all of which were of course forbidden. Why was it that only he got restrained? Even the slutty Wildstar got her way with one of the stallions, her pleasure making everyone in the link save for Chrysalis uncomfortable and disgusted. That’s because you don’t listen, buzzed Dagaal’s other half. If you were a good changeling and listened to Mother, you would get all that you ever wanted! But no, you prefer to scream bloody murder and get us in trouble time and time again! “YOUR SPINE BELONGS TO THE UNDERWORLD!” Dagaal roared at Primo, making his brother flinch. Case in point. Eh, if you only made sense... maybe we could work something out. Why do you even bother spouting such- “BLOOD CRUST PIE FOR EVERYLING!” continued the behemoth, struggling against the telekinetic grip with his own flimsy magic. Heh. Now, if you payed attention, you’d have known how to break out of this. You don’t like floating, don’t you, you big oaf? snickered the small voice. You’re hampering your own freedom. You have to learn when to listen and when to- “GHHRR, SHUT UP, SHUT UP, SHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUP!” bellowed Dagaal. Not only did he have to deal with the tiny annoying voice, but now Primo’s conscience snaked into his head, trying to subdue him with subtle commands not unlike those that Chrysalis used. See, and now Primo’s here too. Why am I being punished so? Was I a bad drone in a previous lifetime? lamented the other Dagaal, skitting away from Primo’s imposing presence. Why couldn’t you be the retarded spark that flails about aimlessly? Before Dagaal could think up an elaborate answer to that question, he felt his body shut down. Primo nimbly danced around his fury and wore him out mentally, taking control for just long enough to crank up the production of his natural sleep hormone. Within seconds, the mighty goliath fell unconscious, his troubled spark wrapped in uneasy sleep. * * * Of all the siblings, Wildstar was probably the most sympathetic towards Dagaal. Not the snarky and weak one, no. She admired the massive, masculine, powerfull changeling that bordered on defying the hive’s will more times than she cared to count. The attraction was so potent she couldn’t help but swoon every time the monster went berserk, chasing down the little pony soldiers. Wildstar tried to convince Chrysalis to let her take care of Dagaal, let him ‘blow off some steam’ so to speak, but the Queen wouldn’t allow it. The general held a deep belief that all masculine power could be drained with the right amount of feminine charm, a theory she managed to test with success on one of the cute unicorns. Her mother disregarded her ‘research’, claiming it to be purely a pony thing and that changelings were above such petty physiology. On his side, Dagaal didn’t mind the female changeling. She didn’t cross his path or try and restrain him when he had his giddy moments of freedom. In return he never had to scream obscenities at her or snap his jaws with the intention to taste her jugular. She was as indifferent to him as the other drones or stones that he liked to tackle and bash in with his head. “You got a little something on your… everywhere,” giggled Wildstar, pointing at Dagaal. A little?! You just headbutted that poor drone into a bloody pulp and rolled around in him! protested the small voice in Dagaal’s head. To his credit, the behemoth had a method in his madness. Noling understood his motives mostly because of his unconventional approach. Like, for example, exploding a worthless drone and coating yourself in his cool liquid helped keep the scorching sun at bay, if only for a little while. With no water around, how was one supposed to suffer the heat under the thick carapace? “How do you find this amusing?” snickered Primo, sparing his brother a disgusted look. He was mostly focused on directing a group of changelings through an intricate pattern of rock formations, at this point only trying to improve his already impressive time score. “If we’re sitting around doing basically nothing, we could at least try and select a better general. Dagaal is no good with command, and leaving him with even a hundred thousand drones would hamper the invasion.” “I don’t know, Primo,” purred Wildstar, cautiously approaching her bull of a brother. “Imagine a wave of teeth and hooves a hundred thousand strong coming your way, their eyes clouded with a bloodlust that could chill a dragon’s heart.” “I would simply outmaneuver them,” snapped Primo, finishing the exercise with a score on par with his best. “An enraged enemy can be easily guided, his power used against him.” “It’s easy to say that when you’re a changeling, with the comfort of the hive mind and our Mother,” said Wildstar, taking a whiff of Dagaal’s aroma. Currently he smelled like burnt changeling, but somewhere under that was a thick layer of sweat and musk that drove her senses wild. “A pony though? Did you see how our teachers, the best of the best, scamper away from just one Dagaal? Terror is a weapon you underestimate, dear brother.” Primo only huffed anxiously, repositioning his soldiers and starting the course again. It stung when anyling gave Dagaal credit for being… well, himself. The monster lacked any grace or even basic thought, yet Mother and the rest always gave him superficial credit for his ‘unbridled spirit’ and ‘inspiring dedication’. Dedication to what? Causing mayhem? Was that the kind of trait the Queen looked for in her generals? His concentration faltered for just a fraction of a second, making a drone misstep and effectively lag behind the rest by just an inch. “Curses!” barked Primo, stopping the drones dead in their tracks. The thoughts of that moronic behemoth drag me down. How am I to reach perfection if he keeps foiling my every attempt at impressing mother? thought the first general, glaring at Dagaal. I have to get rid of him. Mother is too attached to that damned abomination’s second spark to see the truth. It will be for the best. She can have as many Dagaals as she wants when we’ll be comfortably lounging in the towers of Canterlot. Right now, we need more Primos, more Boulders. Wildstar is tethering on the edge of usefulness as it is... At moments like these Primo thanked fate that the Queen let them keep most of their thoughts to themselves. If she caught on to the plan that was slowly hatching in the general’s head, she would most likely detach that part of him from the rest of his body. Permanently.