Hoofsteps paced behind him in a steady, terrifying rhythm.
The Hive was quiet. All the constant, comforting echoes from his brothers and sisters had been chased away by those steps. They stopped and turned to pace back, keeping him trapped in this cavern.
“Your role in the Hive has been selected.”
He shivered. His wings stretched out, but they were too short and too thin to give comfort.
“Do you remember what I said when your training began?”
His mouth moved, but no words came out.
“I promised that I would not fail you. A pity you don’t share that sentiment. Why can you not answer a simple question?”
His short, stubby fangs bit into his lip and held back a sob. He sank down.
“Get up!”
His body refused. “Y-Your Majesty, I can’t—”
A tight green ring snapped around his muzzle and yanked his head back. His queen glared down at him with sizzling eyes. He found no gentle blue comfort like his brothers and sisters, only green fire that scorched him every passing moment. But what he hated most were the two black pools that only she had, the ones that pulled him deeper and deeper into a burning pit he could not escape. The weight of all the authority of the Hive crushed his mind, ceaselessly judging him and finding him unworthy.
“I told you to get up!”
One low whine escaped his gag, but he did not disobey. Could not disobey. He crept to his feet on shaky legs, standing up to Chrysalis’ knees at his full height.
She bared her fangs, long and gleaming in the fire of her eyes. “You will be my enforcer. It is decided. This is your role in the Hive. Do you understand?”
He nodded.
“No, you don’t. When you are ready, you will follow your brothers, my eyes and ears, out into the world. If they fail in their missions, it is your duty to complete them in their stead. You will need all their skills, and if they are discovered, you will need the skills to silence any witnesses. Now do you understand?”
He nodded. Slowly.
Chrysalis’ eyes burned steadily with glowing fury. “If you fail, you will die.”
He shivered.
“Your brothers will die.”
His tremors grew.
“You will expose the Hive to our enemies, and we will be wiped out of existence.” The ring around his muzzle tightened, and Chrysalis leaned in close. “The skills I have to teach you can prevent that. I will not fail you. Will you fail me?”
The Hive trusted him with this role. There was no other choice. He shook his head.
“Then answer!”
The ring jerked his head around, and his legs spread out to regain his balance. The small cavern was empty, save for the wooden block at his feet. Its red face stared up, and the slight vision of blue underneath its edge taunted him. He choked back a sob as the hoofsteps started behind him again.
“I have waited for over an hour. No longer.” The footsteps turned back. “Is the block red? Or is it blue?” The steps paused behind him. Chrysalis’ hiss brushed against his ear. “There is only one. Simple. Answer.”
The ring around his muzzle dissolved as Chrysalis began pacing again. He wished it had remained. Each step he heard marked another moment wasted before she lost her patience again, but he couldn’t tell her what she wanted to hear. He had held the block, turned it, studied it, and he had already answered both ways.
“Answer!”
He flinched as the command echoed around him. “R-red.”
A wave of magic slammed into him, battering him with the same green fire in those terrible eyes. His muscles caved under the force of the blow, and his sobs were crushed out of him between the stone floor and the weight of the Hive.
She roared, “How many times will you say that? You fool! Tell me what color the block is!”
“I don’t know!”
“Why?”
“It’s both! It’s both, it’s both, it’s both!” The weight lifted off his back, and his tears came. He curled up, drawing ragged breaths of air, and covered his face. “I’m sorry, Your Majesty! I’m sorry I can’t tell you! Please, please don’t—” He choked on his words. The steps stalked closer. “It’s both. It’s both. Please...”
A hoof stroked the back of his head. “Good.”
He blinked behind his hooves, and then cautiously pulled them down. “Huh?”
Chrysalis smiled and touched his muzzle, tracing the shallow impression left by her ring. “You are correct.”
Her eyes ensnared him again, but this time the fires had dimmed, replaced with soothing green approval. The green light showed the same gentle warmth he felt from queen’s touch. His body’s trembles and aches faded more with every moment, and the fear he had felt no longer mattered.
He smiled back up at his queen. “I... I was right?” She nodded, and the simple gesture sent another wave of joy through him. But the moment was fleeting, as a thought of doubt wormed its way up. He had been wrong for so long. He never wanted to feel that way again. “I don’t understand. Why was I right?”
“Sit up, child.” Chrysalis waited for him to obey before sitting next to him and floating the block between them in her magic. She spun it until only one of its red sides showed to him. “If I were to carry this out to your brothers, only showing them this side, and asked what color it was, what would they say?”
“Red, Your Majesty.”
“Yes. Now if this is all I showed them, but I said the block was blue, would they believe me?” She cut off his reply with a raised hoof. “They might say so easily, but would they believe me?”
His mouth opened and closed. He tried to imagine her question, seeing the red color before him but hearing her voice—her voice—call it blue.
“Perhaps they would agree just because I am their queen, but would they believe?” The block turned, allowing him to see a sliver of blue. “Unless they can see what you have seen, I doubt it.”
He reached up, and the magic faded. The block rested in his hoof. “They’d think you were lying.”
“And a lie is a dangerous thing, child. They will always be discovered and brought to the light.” She put a hoof on his shoulder. “You must be clever enough to not rely on them. Shade your stories with the truth—no matter how slight—and those who hear will believe them easily.”
The echoes of his brothers’ wings returned, small and cautious, and Chrysalis turned him to face the sound. “This is a lesson all changelings must learn. We cannot ignore the world, nor can we afford for the world to learn the truth of us. To deny our existence is a lie, so we hide from our enemies by smiling to their faces. Do you understand?”
He nodded. “If we let them see what they want to see, they won’t look more than they have to.”
“Good. Very good!” Chrysalis stroked his back and smiled down on him. “I’m sure the others will need me after so long away from them. Rest your mind now. Tomorrow will bring a new lesson.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.” He bowed as she left, and her steps quickly faded into the echoes of the caverns. He sat down, puzzling over the block still in his hoof. She had brought it down, but left it behind. The lesson was over, yet it remained with him. She had released it into his hoof, so she knew he had it. Her last order was to relax his mind, but—
His eyes opened wide.
He cast the block along the cavern floor and leapt after it, slapping it away to chase it again.
The sun set over Canterlot, and he tried to throw the numbers and words floating in his head out with it. Square footage, Reinaissance style architecture, authentic decor from nations he could not pronounce properly—none of it made any more sense now than it did inside all the apartments he had visited throughout the day. At the very least, he didn’t need to feign his smile in front of all the ponies that showed him around.
He looked over their names on the cards in front of him. Square Deal, the earth stallion with a too-big grin and the strong smell of cheese on his breath. High Rise, the unicorn mare with a predatory glint in her eye. Three more ponies he had met, and whose sole role was to find a place for other ponies to sleep, yet each one worked in open competition with the others, serving different masters.
His mirth throughout the day had been quite natural, indeed.
The streetlamp next to his table flickered to life in the waning light. He spread all the contracts and pamphlets he had gathered from his visits across half the table and leaned back against the cold metal railing with a sigh. The barrier mimicked what he had seen all day, wrapping around him and the ponies sitting at three other tables to pen them away from the masses on the street. His eyes followed the pattern as the metal bent and curved in a senseless display of extravagance, save for the small gap halfway down the line.
A white unicorn stallion stepped outside, smoothing out the front of his jacket and tie. He looked up to one of the flower pots hanging from the awning and grasped it in his magic. The pot tilted down, and the unicorn sniffed before nodding in approval. The waiter turned, took a step towards his table, and stopped.
He smiled and waved him off. “She’ll be here in a moment.”
The stallion nodded. “Very good, sir.” He turned his attention back to the unicorns sitting at the other tables.
Like clockwork, a figure stepped out from the mass of ponies and skittered onto the sidewalk. Cherry Blossom trotted along the rail with no stealthy slink in her step, but with her head bowed and ears perked up.
He rapped a hoof against the metal as she passed, holding back a laugh as she jumped back. “Thought you looked ready to snap. Don’t you ever get a day off?”
She snorted. “Plants don’t stop growing because the gardener isn’t there, Dawn.”
He blinked. And then he smiled. Dawn?
“Anyway,” Cherry continued, “I can see I’m not the only one that had a long day. That, ah...” Her ears fell flat as she looked over the table. “That doesn’t look like pleasure reading.”
“It isn’t.” He groaned and rubbed his temple. “You ever get the feeling that you and someone else are speaking the same language, but you just can’t understand each other? Well, I can tell this is all Equestrian, but I don’t exactly have the option of screaming at paper to explain itself. Honestly, I’m glad you walked by.” He smiled and waved a hoof at the seat across the table. “Won’t you join me?”
“Um,” Cherry sucked in a breath, then tried to hide if by chewing her lip. Her eyes flicked over to the unicorns for half a second before focusing back on him. “I’m not really—”
“Please, I need someone to make sense for a little while. My treat!”
She shifted her weight back and forth. “Dawn, I—”
“Now that I think about it, isn’t it my turn to talk this time?” He waved at the seat again. “I’ll tell you everything you want to know.”
“I-I’d like that, but...” Her eyes lingered on the unicorns again.
He forced his smile to drop. “Is something wrong? We can do this later if I caught you at a bad—”
“No, no, it’s... it’s fine.” Her hoof moved along the twists of the railing. She swallowed.
Is she going to jump it?
Cherry turned and walked along the barrier.
He glanced away and spotted the waiter watching her intently, then looked back to her. She didn’t seem to notice her audience, and he followed her progress to the gap.
She stopped. Her hoof fiddled against the ground.
Come on. I’m here.
Cherry took a breath and stepped across, turning her head and letting her mane block her view of the other tables.
For the first time, he reached his magic out to her. The ether of Canterlot showed him the truth he already understood: he could smell the love in the city, but none of it was for him. A chill fell over his heart, save for one candle that flickered against the cold ambivalence. He smiled as the slight warmth grew closer and let his magic drop, coming back to his senses.
Cherry cleared her throat as she sat down. “I was just wondering what... uh, what my story will be. I’ve stopped at that diner on my way home from work every night for the past few weeks. I’ll have some explaining to do to Ms. Mulberry the next time she sees me.”
He flapped a wing dismissively. “That’s nothing to be concerned about. You just have to tell the truth. You were on your way there, and you just happened to run into a friend. Nothing else.”
“I ran into a friend.” Cherry gave him a smile—small and tight. “That’s exactly right, isn’t it? Yes. A friend.” She sat up straighter, letting out a slow breath, and her smile relaxed. “I’m with a friend.”
“With a friend.” He chuckled and looked over her shoulder. “And a waiter about five steps behind you. Fair warning.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“Welcome, Madame,” the waiter said. Two menus floated down. “Shall I give you both a moment?”
He glanced down briefly, then nodded to a sign hanging in the window. “I’ve had my eye on that soup special. I think I’ll try that.”
Cherry searched her menu. Her brow furrowed. “Um, yes, the same for me, please.”
“Splendid, splendid.” The waiter levitated both menus again. “They’ll be right out.”
“You know,” Cherry said after he left, “I’ve walked right by this place without a second thought every day. Looking at that menu made me realize why.”
“I know. The first thing I saw was...” He frowned. “‘Foe-eye Grass?’ I got the second word, but am I even saying that right?”
“No idea.”
“Exactly. So.” He tapped his hooves together and crossed his forelegs on the table. “What do you want to know?”
She tapped her chin thoughtfully, looking at him for a moment. “Well, I’ve figured you aren’t here for vacation, so what do you do for a living?”
“I don’t really have an official title.” He tapped a hoof idly as he searched his memory. “I think I told you I’m an errand boy?” He gave her a shrug and a small smile. “That’s as close as anything.”
“I’ve never seen an errand boy sitting in a downtown Canterlot café.” She pointed to his contracts. “And those look like lease agreements. They’re not yours, are they?”
“Not at all. I serve a noble lady outside the city. She’s been looking for residence in Canterlot.”
Cherry grinned. “That would explain the manners. Plus, there’s always a bit of gossip floating around the castle about some celebrity snatching up a summer home or something.”
He pulled a brochure from under the pile of papers and passed it over. “Like this?”
“Pretty much.” She flipped through it. “Three bedroom, three bath... hot tub in the master bath... a full kitchen and a balcony... this is just an apartment? There’s a picture of a spa!”
“Yeah, there’s a private spa in the building. For residents only.” He sorted through the contracts again and pulled free one with an impressive figure scrawled across the bottom. “That one is... five thousand bits a month.”
She sputtered and dropped the brochure as though it was on fire. “Five thousand?”
“You want to know the sad part?” He scraped everything on the table into a pile and pinned it all down with a hoof. “I visited every one of these places today, and I’m not going to send my lady a single one of these things.”
Cherry whistled and shook her head. “Ouch. That’s probably for the best, though. Five thousand bits a month—”
“She’d never forgive me for sending her something so cheap.” He pretended to miss her sudden silence and nodded to the waiter carrying over their order. “Here he comes again.” The sharp mixture of onion and cheese filled his nose as the bowls settled down to the table. “Ah, that smells nice. Thank you.”
The waiter dipped his head. “Of course, sir. Enjoy!”
Cherry waited for him to leave before speaking. “Just who are you, again?”
He gave her a puzzled look. “What do you mean?”
“Five thousand bits a month is cheap? Who do you work for?”
“Oh. That.” He lifted his bowl and took a mouthful of the warm broth, savoring the rich flavor for a long moment. With a deep, exaggerated sigh, he put it back down and studied the soup inside for another moment. “I... don’t think she’d want me to...” He shook his head and looked her in the eye. “I’d rather not say.”
“Why?” Cherry slapped a hoof to her mouth and clenched her eyes shut. “I’m sorry. I understand.”
“It’s alright.” He took another drink, and she did the same. “To be honest, it’s more about pride than money. She made a bid for a pretty big manor here recently. That didn’t quite work out. I don’t know exactly what happened, but there’s some really bad blood on both sides.”
“She had no idea what was she getting into, did she?” Cherry’s shoulders slumped, and she looked down at the table. “Those manors are only a step down from the castle, and the owners just love having something to lord over the rest of the city.”
“Hm?” He perked his ears forward. “What do you mean?”
She laughed, raising an ankle to cover a broad smile. “You’re not getting off that easy. It’s still your turn to talk, remember? So how long have you worked for this mare?”
He shrugged, letting the lingering memory drift in his mind a moment before answering. “I don’t even remember starting. She raised me.”
“Really? What about your parents?”
“I never knew them. I was given to my lady when I was born.”
“Oh. I’m sorry. I couldn’t imagine—” Her face fell, and he thought he saw a flickering sparkle in the corners of her eyes.
He shook his head. “Don’t be. They knew what they were doing.” He had witnessed that moment plenty of times at Chrysalis’ side, the joy in the parents’ eyes when they presented their child to the Queen. All the Hive would erupt to welcome their new brother or sister. He knew he had been no different, and the welcome never faded—not while he grew with the other younglings born in his year under the eyes of the sisters, nor while he learned the ways of the Hive from the brothers.
“But still—”
“I wasn’t the only one. Her whole home was like that. I had brothers and sisters that she took in and trained for their role.” He smiled as wistful memories replaced the harsher lessons. “My parents knew I would have a place. A life. I was never alone.”
Cherry’s smile returned, and she nodded. “I’m glad. That sounds like you had a real family.”
“I did.” He watched the ponies on the street continue their marches home. “If I’m being honest, Canterlot still gets to me. I’ve been away from home before, but it’s never taken me this long to get back.” He hissed under his breath. “And she knew. She must have known this would keep me away for so long, but she sent me anyway.”
“Why?”
He avoided her gaze, wrestling with her question, but failing to escape the answer. “I don’t know.”
Why?
“I don’t even know why I don’t know,” he said and looked back to her. “She must have had her eyes set on Canterlot for years. A few rumors spread before she made the announcement, but I never believed them.” He smiled, but neither his heart nor his brain was behind it. “I never really had a reason to.”
Cherry smiled back. “You were happy.” She reached across the table and touched his hoof. “I understand. You didn’t want it to change.”
He fought back a snort as her hoof pulled away.
“You could be here for awhile,” she continued. “Canterlot isn’t building many more grand manors in the center of the city.”
“I know. I guess all I can do is keep my ear to the ground and hope an opportunity comes up.” He lifted his bowl and took another gulp of the tasty broth.
“True, but that wasn’t exactly my point.” Cherry played with the bowl in her hooves. “You’ve been here a good while already, and you could have a long time to wait yet. Where are you staying?”
He tilted his head behind his shoulder. “I’ve got a hotel back in the warehouse district.”
“The warehouse district?!” Cherry pounded the table. “That’s a slum! I didn’t even know there was a hotel down there!”
The unicorns behind her turned to look at her outburst.
“It’s, uh... it’s not that bad.” He noticed the waiter stick his head outside, and he nodded to him.
The waiter nodded back.
Cherry tilted her head and looked at him. Hard. “‘It’s not that bad?’ If five thousand bits a month is cheap, she can afford better for you! I thought she treated you like a son!”
He put some bits on the table, and the waiter’s aura lifted them away. “I appreciate the concern, but she doesn’t even know I’m staying there.”
“That’s not the point! You shouldn’t be there in the first place!” Cherry sighed and shook her head. “She ordered you away from home and doesn’t even send enough money to get a decent roof over your head? How do you even eat?”
“Well, I did just pay the bill while you were talking.” He gave a sly smirk. “I get by.”
“You—! You paid?” Cherry grimaced and covered her face. “Right. Your treat.” She slumped against the table, trying to hide under her forelegs. “I’m sorry. I’m making a scene, aren’t I? You invited me, and then I say all those things about your... I’m sorry.”
He reached out to her, but stopped, frowning. His hoof pulled back. What was...? He shook his head to clear his thoughts, then forced a smile. “There’s one thing you didn’t say.”
Cherry looked up. “Huh?”
“Five,” he said, tapping his bowl.
“Five?” Her eyes sparked. “Ah! No. Not five.” She grinned and stood up. “I know how to pay you back for this one. There’s a grocery store on Ninth Street. You can’t miss it. Meet me there tomorrow morning.”
He raised an eyebrow. “A grocery store?”
She nodded. “A grocery store. If you’re okay sleeping at that hotel, the least I can do is make sure you get some decent food in you without paying through the nose for it. Sound fair?”
“I... guess?” You what? “Sure.”
“Great! I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow.” He watched her leave and returned her smile as she walked past on her way home. Still, he couldn’t shake her presence. Her touch on his hoof flared in his mind again, and her outrage on his behalf reverberated through him long after it had stopped shaking the table.
Above all, one word would not leave his skull.
Why?