The pebbled beach was strewn with shattered remnants of a ship. The night had tossed great waves through the great gale which could still be seen departing the horizon. The morning was gray, filled with the mournful cries of seagulls mixed with the crashing waves. Spring storms were often violent, small hurricanes said to be the rage of love lost.
The ship had been blown off course, the storm tossing it about like a toy until dashing it against rocks like an enraged child in the throes of a tantrum. It had been a simple cargo ship with a small number of passengers fewer in number than the crew.
None survived.
Save one.
Corpses of ponies who succombed to the storm were strewn along the dark pebbles, each wave following the incoming tide and pushing the bodies further and further up the beach. By the time the sun rose, the tide was already beginning to recede, leaving behind a grisly scene.
He nudged his mother’s cold, unmoving body. She had not moved since crawling ashore with him firmly in her grip. The mare had died shortly after one last titanic effort to place her foal on firm ground, her broken body finally giving out. The life had fled her as she bled out from a gash running lengthwise along her belly, her innards held in by shreds of flesh.
No amount of pleading or begging could open her eyes. No nudge or whimper could ever get her to stir again.
He was a small colt, very young, perhaps still a foal. He could barely speak. The colt refused to leave his mother’s side, staying beneath her one remaining wing. Fear kept him bolted in place, shivering against his mother’s cold form. Small whimpering sounds came from his throat.
Eventually, hunger drove the pegasus foal from his mother. The day would move on, with or without him. Instinct told him to go inland. He had no idea where he was. There was a forest growing around tall vertical ruins of once massive buildings. The gray colt did not know this, thinking them to be great rocks. His stare upon them was without interest, his green eyes vacant as his numbed systems were still in a state of shock.
Eventually, he did find a cloverfield on the other side of the trees. The clouds had cleared and the sun warmed his dirty coat. It was still cool and the breeze made him shiver. The shoots were still awakening to the change of season. The colt nibbled here and there, letting his nose seek out food for him. Grazing and not paying attention to his surroundings, he ate just a little and found his appetite waning as he found thoughts of mother filling his heart and mind.
The tears came as he missed her terribly. There, in the middle of that field of clovers, he cried for his mother. She had been his world, his teacher, his comfort. She had loved him and nurtured him, protecting him from his abusive father.
Why was she gone? He did not understand.
His ears swiveled as they picked up an odd sound. Slowly he looked up, turning towards it with trepidation. His eyes widened with fear at the sight of something he had never seen before. It looked like a pony, but he blinked as the wind shifted. It didn’t smell like a pony. It regarded him with solid blue eyes, lacking in pupils and irises. It seemed to focus on him, tilting it’s dark equine head to one side, its notched ears rotating on its head. A single curved horn grew from its head, like a unicorn. It had a black carapace. Where there was no carapace, there was charcoal gray chitin. A pair of gossamer wings slowly churned in the air.
“What are you doing here?” it asked in a strange, terrifying voice. Its tone was neither friendly nor was it hostile. Certainly curious and predatory!
Without a word, the colt squealed in terror and spun on his back hooves, his little wings flapping in panic. He ran as fast as his little hooves could carry him, bawling for his mother. Another one of the monsters appeared, baring long, sharp fangs and hissing loudly. The colt skidded, scrambling his hooves madly as he darted left. He cried and cried as he huffed and gulped for air. His lungs were already starving for air and his sore muscles were battered from being tossed all night in a raging sea.
He was weak. He was heartsick. He wanted his mother. There were monsters here!
Little clods of earth and grass were churned beneath his hooves and he dared once or twice to glance over his shoulder, the last time causing a stumble over an unseen root. The trees around him were less packed than the ones he had navigated through from the coast. The landscape now guided him upwards. The gray colt ducked through dry ravines and passed through a saddle of two low lying forested hills. His dead run fell away to a wobbly trot, his wobbly trot breaking down into a staggering walk. At the base of an oak tree, he collapsed, his barrel heaving as his lungs screamed for air. He could no longer cry: the emotional drain had been trumped by physical exertion. The pony was spent.
Flopping to the forest floor on his side, he lay there, gasping and starving for oxygen.
“Momma,” he managed, remembering his mother’s smiling face. She had also been a pegasus, a beautiful mare with a golden mane and a dun pelt. He had her eyes, she had said and he remembered them being very pretty eyes. He imagined her hooves holding him, those wonderful soft wings stroking him to sleep at night…
...he was suddenly cold. The colt shivered, drawing himself into a tight ball. He managed to slink into a crook of the oak tree, between two large roots at its base. He tried to sleep, but the bad dreams found him. The dark dreams always had the ship breaking up around him, his mother screaming, the other ponies screaming. The frantic leap into the air in his mother’s hooves, her powerful wings trying to battle the power of the storm. The wind and rain battered her into the sea and towards the rocks. Those terrible, terrible rocks!
Blinking, he unfurled himself from his ball and noticed it was dark out. The moon was in full splendor, the shadow of the Mare looking down from within it. A mewling sound came from his throat as he looked up at the moon. His mother had used to tell him stories about how the moon came to have a mare trapped in it. The cold bothered him and he whimpered. He was also hungry.
He heard the rustle of movement on the other side of the tree. Perking up, he tensed, wanting to flee. His tired body failed him, rooting the colt in place. Instead, he shrank into the tree, his wings flaring out aggressively. He could not run, but he could make himself look bigger! He puffed out his chest, staring at where the sound was coming from.
A hoof appeared. It belonged to a long leg. There was another hoof. The colt’s head followed the legs up to their owner. It was a unicorn mare. She had a dark brown coat and a mossy green mane. Her eyes glowed like twin suns. A red cloak was clasped around her neck and covered her. She appeared to be wearing saddlebags beneath them.
“What have we here?” she asked him in a voice as gentle as a warm breeze. “Are you lost?” Her brows were furrowed with concern.
“Momma,” was all he could manage, looking in the direction of what he thought was where she lay. He looked sad, his lower lip quivering in confirmation.
“Oh, you poor thing!” she exclaimed. “You’re cold! Come with me. I will give you a warm place to sleep and food. Are you hungry? Would you like something to eat?” The unicorn came fully around the trunk of the tree, her face showing terrible worry. Before the colt could do anything, a blanket appeared in a flash of magic and he felt himself plucked from the ground. The blanket was wrapped around him snugly, though he struggled.
He was terribly frightened and too weak to resist too long. Instead, he cried softly from within the roll of blanket he had become the center of.
“Oh! Oh! Don’t cry, little one,” cooed the mare. She drew him close to her chest as she sat on her haunches. “You’ve been through so much. Did you come from the wreck?” She peeled back some of the blanket and found green eyes staring up at her mournfully. A nod was his response from within.
“Bugs!” he blurted at her, suddenly remembering what had made him run. “Scary!”
“My goodness! Bugs? What bugs?” She shushed the foal by bopping him on the snout gently with the tip of her hoof.
He tried to point with a hoof, but it got stuck in the blanket. Instead, his eyes darted towards the depths of the trees. “Monsters. Want go home. Want momma.”
“Oh, you poor foal. You’ll come with me. And don’t you worry about any bugs!” she chuckled at him, her mirthful eyes flashing emeralds. “You’ll have a bed and good food, I promise.” The mare placed the bundle on her back, the foal within squirming. “Stay right there and try not to move. Just worry about getting warm. I’ll do the rest, dear.”
He felt her muzzle poke into the blanket and give him assurance. The colt settled, suddenly feeling very tired. A single yawn erupted and sleep soon found him.
“Are you certain, Mother?” asked a voice, mismatched and broken.
“I cannot trust my daughters.” The reply came from another female voice, this one deeper and more resonant. Its distortion was more pronounced.
“Including me?”
“Especially you.” A dark chuckle followed. “Observe him, my dears. An orphan. A storm upon my shores. Not much to look at, is he?”
No voice rose. The silence was deafening.
“His kind are few. Not just a normal pegasus. No, this is a strain of Storm Riders Celestia has been cultivating for years. Their lot was an idea taken from Luna’s beloved thestrals.”
“A Storm Rider? Balderdash!” snorted a third voice. It was not unlike the first one who spoke.
“There is thunder in his voice and lightning in his blood,” said the second. “I shall bring out his talents. As I manipulated our species, so has Celestia manipulated some of her beloved ponies. She understands she needs fighters. There are too few thestrals to watch over her precious subjects and she is half of a whole herself. Pegasi themselves are formidable, but they are still nothing more than ponies with death warrants.”
“What will you do with him? Make him one of us?” A fourth voice had chimed in.
There was a pause as the air became suddenly thick with tension. “No. At least not in the way you would expect. He shall be my shield.”
“Do you fear us, Mother?”
“Yes. If all of you were to stand against me, I would be sorely pressed. But none of you are willing to trust the other. I would be a fool if I did not fear what you all might be capable of.”
“Mother, he is awake.”
“I know. Begone! The lot of you!”
The sound of buzzing wings faded, coupled with the sounds of hoofsteps.
The foal blinked his eyes open, having indeed been awake for some time. His fear had again held him frozen in place and he dared not move. The presences in the room he had felt were cold towards him. He could not explain it, but there had been predators around! Instinct had taken over and he tried so very hard to blend in with whatever he was on. It felt like a bed. A soft bed with blankets and a fluffy pillow. He was not cold and he felt safe.
“Momma?” he dared softly, raising his head. He looked around to strange surroundings. The room was domed low ceiling, blending into the walls. There were cubby holes everywhere, each one holding various objects. Mostly books. The lighting was towards the dim side as candles dotted the walls and were set upon flat surfaces here and there. A small hearth in the far wall had a cheerful fire within it. It felt cozy.
His nostrils tasted the air. Food! It smelled yummy and his tummy growled. With a whimper he sat up and found the unicorn mare sitting next to him in a rocking chair doing some knitting with her magic. A blanket was draped over her shoulders. She smiled at him.
“Hungry, little one?” she asked. “You slept for a good while.”
“Food!” he said, nodding vigorously.
“You stay there,” she announced, rising to her hooves and adjusting her blanket. Her knitwork went into a wicker basket by her rocking chair. “I will bring you food. Stay warm and snuggly right where you are.” The unicorn smiled at him and went towards the source of the smell.
She returned a short while later with a wooden tray. On it lay a bowl of soup, a simple salad, a bread roll and a fresh cup of milk. A certain foal’s mouth salivated as he stood up in bed eagerly. The unicorn set the tray on the bed and bade the colt to dig in. He wasted no time and attacked with the ferocity of a starved wolf.
The unnamed mare watched with amusement, letting the foal eat. He was small and scrawny now, but she could already see the signs he would be a big brute. Points of fangs were showing unseen under her lips.
Within minutes, there was very little remaining to indicate a meal had once existed. Even the crumbs were not spared from the searching tongue. The colt announced the end of his meal with a resounding belch, pushing the tray away. It was immediately levitated and set aside on a nearby end table.
“Better?” the mare asked.
The colt nodded. “Momma?” he asked, tilting his head to one side.
Sternly she regarded him. “You will need a new one, I think. What was found on the shores was given proper services. I will be your mother. I have never had a son before. I think I shall like it. What is your name, little one?”
He thought about it. No memory of a name jostled from within his mind. The colt shook his head, splaying his ears out to the sides.
“I shall let you earn your name, then,” she decided, smiling warmly. The mare leaned forward and gave him a kiss on the forehead. The young pegasus found himself leaning into it. He felt safe with her. Her eyes were mesmerizing, promising him a home and being part of a family. “I am Gaea. I have had many daughters, but never a son. You shall be my first. You shall earn your name. All in due time. I will teach you many things. You will realize your potential. I will love you and you will love me as the mother you have always wanted. Perhaps more.” A golden glow began to shine softly from her eyes, those amber orbs swirling with magic.
She sat on the edge of the bed and stroked his mane with a fetlock. Without thinking, the colt crawled into her hooves, snuggling up against her barrel.
“New momma?”
“Yes, my dear. I am your new mother. For now, I want you to rest and eat. You were near starving. I do not think she was taking proper care of you.” Gaea pulled him back and looked down into his eyes. “I will do better. She was not fit. Yes, she was not fit and you were sent to me.” Her glow in her gaze shifted to emerald green. “You are mine, little Storm Rider and I will mold you into my vision.”
The pegasus foal mumbled tiredly, “Love you.”
He could no longer remember the face of his mother.
“Why a pony, Mother? Of all things, you choose them?”
“I like the ponies, dear. Of all the races, theirs is the love we grow the most from. I have plans, my child. Great plans. You, my daughter, along with your sisters are a part of those plans. This little colt, this foal is one of the last of the Hurricane line. Storm Riders can bend the weather to their will. Storm Riders are the strongest fliers in the world. They are durable and loyal. Very loyal.”
“Surely you could choose another. Perhaps a changeling—”
“I have made my decision. He shall be my apprentice. In time, he will spend time with each of you queens and you will teach him our ways. I will be watching and I will watch closely. Chrysalis, of all my daughters, you are the most ambitious. You are always curious on how to become more powerful with your magic. Follow the guidance of the earth. Always follow it.”
“Yes, Mother.”
“I love you, my little Chrysalis. I love your ambition. If the day comes and you remove me from power, I shall be most proud of you.”
“Mother, I would never—!”
“Be still, child. I have foreseen my own death. My Shield will fail me, though not for lack of trying. Have you felt his love for me? It is delicious. He trusts me completely. He knows my true form and I have yet to show it to him. Remarkable. One day, he shall be yours, Chrysalis. It is my will.”
“As you wish.”
“Good. Now, in order for Shield to become a part of us, he must be changed internally and mentally. Each queen will put some of her essence within him. Each of you will receive instruction. It will be obeyed to the letter. He will be able to join any hive mind, but only one at a time. He is, after all, just a pony.”
“May I ask you a question, Mother?”
“Chrysalis, what troubles you? Speak!”
“What is your endgame?”
“My endgame? It is a simple one, my beloved daughter. We cannot exist in a world in the clutches of Celestia. When her sister returns, they will consolidate their powers and seek me out. The Sun will pool her resources, perhaps she will even ascend more alicorns. She will avoid war, of course, but she will see me as a threat to her precious harmony. Right now, she is alone and she is paranoid.”
“We could strike now! If what you say is true, then we should have no trouble taking Equestria as our own!”
“Ah, foolish, foolish child. Violence? War? Death? Is this what you desire? We cannot take love from subjects who fear and despise us! You have a magnificent mind, Chrysalis. Use it.”
“My apologies, Mother.”
“Do not be so foolish as to think such an attempt would bear you fruit, girl. The glut of love in our system makes our thoughts unclear and our focus a mangled mess.”
“Of course, Mother.”
“No, I plan to remove my changelings from the influence of Celestia. Her sister will not be banished forever.”
“The Mare in the Moon? I remember the stories you told us.”
“Yes. Luna. She will return. But enough of the alicorns. Shield will grow and he will become powerful. I should wager for a short few minutes, he would even be able meet Celestia on even terms. But not for long, I fear. His body would not be able to withstand the strain. I need my daughters to gradually enhance his body, make him a part of us without needing to be a part of us. Shield must always be on the outside, looking in. We cannot change him too much lest we lose the uniqueness of what he is.”
“I will keep him as whole as you wish, Mother.”
“Excellent. Once he is recovered fully, I shall begin his instruction. Once I think him ready, you will have your chance to teach him. Love him, child and he will fill you with his love. Be his sister and he will be your brother.”
“As you wish, Mother.”
“Good. Now leave me. He will awaken soon and he is not yet ready to see us as we truly are. He will be hungry. I am hungry. We will both feed.”