//------------------------------//
// Chapter 6 
// Story: To Serve the Hive 
// by Minds Eye 
//------------------------------//

	His lure played across the water, dragged along by a string tied around his hoof.  He shifted his weight, keeping himself balanced atop the floating log, and inched his other three legs along in a circle.  The blue glow of his eyes shone on his lure, and its green surface glittered in the water.
 
A shape approached from the darkness below.  Its tail flapped side-to-side with slow, measured beats.
 
He continued his circle.
 
The fish lunged forward.
 
He yanked the string up, pulling the lure and its catch out of the water.  His jaws snapped shut on the cold, wriggling flesh.  The taste of blood filled his mouth as his meat ceased to move, and he took wing across the lake, passing a brother on his way to the vacant log.
 
More brothers and sisters dotted the shore line, milling about the luminescent mushrooms that surrounded the water and climbed the walls.  Chrysalis herself had joined the younglings, elders, and the rest in their harvest, but he focused on only one—a sister, alone, bent over in her work.
 
He dropped the fish behind her, laughing as she spun at the sound of the wet slap.  “Have I ever told you how your skin glows in this light?”  He landed and nudged the fish closer to her, leaving a slimy trail of blood on the cavern floor.  “Care to join me for dinner?”
 
She smirked, rolling a shoulder, and the satchel hanging over it.  “I have dinner.”
 
“No, you have half a dinner.  How are we going to teach the younglings what being a changeling is all about if you ignore half our food?”
 
“And so you offer me a half-eaten fish?”  She pushed it back.  “Please, enjoy the rest of your catch.  Who knows when you’ll get another?”
 
“I’m not even sure Chrysalis would know, and she’s the one sending me out.  But you want to know the truth?”  He leaned in close, taking note of her growing smirk.  “The worst part of being all alone out there—”
 
“Yes, I know who you are.”  She turned away with a flick of her thin wing.  “I’ve heard that the griffons know how to dry their meat to preserve it.  Maybe you could look into that on this next trip of yours for a little taste of home?”
 
He rubbed his chin, smiled, and followed.  “Oh, I can find food.  I’ve been on two missions already.  The worst part is not knowing how many sleeps it will be before I’m back where I belong.”
 
She stopped.  “I swear on all the Queen’s mothers, if you say that you just want one good night—”
 
“You will never swear that oath.”  Chrysalis stepped forward.  “I would have a word with my servant.  Leave us.”
 
The sister’s breath caught in her throat.  “Y-yes, Your Majesty.”  She bowed and scampered away.
 
Chrysalis watched her leave, then her gaze settled on him.  “I told you to eat and rest.  You leave as soon as the Watchers give the signal for dawn.  Why do you distract yourself with this?”
 
He fidgeted in place.
 
“Care for her by keeping her safe.  Serve your Hive.  Do not pursue her.”
 
“We all serve the Hive, Your Majesty.”  He swallowed, knees buckling under her stare, but he was no youngling.  He had bled in her service, and was prepared to kill in it as well.  “You serve as much as we do, don’t you?  You trained me like the others train the younglings.  Won’t I have to pass something on someday?”
 
She didn’t answer, nor did her expression change.
 
“I recognized her.  We were born in the same year, as the Hive orders.  We don’t share blood.”
 
“That is irrelevant.  I did not spend these years training you to sit and caretake in the prime of your life.  You are my weapon, and your skills are needed.”
 
“And I will use them, but—”
 
“Enough.”
 
He snapped his mouth shut.
 
Chrysalis placed a hoof on his shoulder.  “You are young, and you have much to offer your family.  You may give a child to the Hive, or you may pass on what you know—perhaps to your successor one day, as I must—but you have many years before you count the ripples in a still pool with the elders.”
 
“I know.”  He closed his eyes and recited, “I go with the Hive.  Every decision I make will protect or harm us all.”
 
“Indeed,” she said, resting her hoof to the cold cavern floor.  “Stay mindful of the present, and remember that you carry us all with you.”  She smirked.  “The sisters will be here when you return.  Rest now, and prepare yourself.”
 
He bowed as she left, then turned back to his fish.  Food first, rest second.  His fangs sank into the warming flesh, tearing off a chunk, and he left the remainder for any younglings to find.
 



 
His hooves tapped out a frantic rhythm as he paced back and forth on the rooftop high above the castle wall, looking down at the guards and in clear view of any sky patrols that might fly by.  It was just approaching midday, but he still kept vigil on the gate, waiting for her to come back out.
 
Cherry Blossom.
 
He hadn’t been fast enough to catch her on her way in, and he cursed his sloth again.  Her voice had whispered answers to his unasked questions for hours, and her face had smiled, or cringed, or cried along with them all.
 
This wasn’t right.  She was supposed to be simple, just a girl looking for a shoulder to lean on, an ear to gossip in.  Her loose lips would slip him what he needed to know, and her trust would only be a benefit, giving him access to the castle and more details to form his plan.
 
Her shoulders trembled, and she couldn’t even look me in the eye.  She couldn’t look, except at the ground.
 
His heart sank at the thought.  If he had only spoken up sooner, stopped those two from carving into Cherry—
 
He snarled, turning and retracing his steps for another time.  His duty was to protect the Hive, not her.  The problem with the two maids was that he let them have the element of surprise.  One pony’s troubles with other ponies shouldn’t bother him.
 
Yet whether it should or shouldn’t didn’t change the fact that it did.
 
The scene played again, the instant fear in her eyes and the crumbling of her confidence.  He had been surprised the change came so quickly, had assumed the gardens were a place of strength for her, but her aversion—fear—of unicorns stripped away that illusion.
 
But that was hardly enough of a surprise to throw him off like this.  Her reaction to unicorns had been one of her first habits he had witnessed.
 
Why?  Why did this moment matter?
 
She was letting him in.
 
He stopped in his tracks.
 
That was right.  She hinted that she wanted him to go inside the castle, to show him something.  He had taken a major step forward, and she had offered another, only for it to be ruined by the maids’ intervention.  The mission had been jeopardized, and now he had to set it back on track.  That was all.
 
His concern was justified.  The Hive needed him, and he needed Cherry Blossom.

He needed answers from Cherry Blossom.

So go.

She was there, on the other side of the wall.  He knew the way.  And he turned back, pounding the roof with his hoofsteps while keeping his wings down.  The guards would be watching her now.  The last thing he needed was to draw more attention to her.  To him.  To the mission.  There was nothing to gain by crossing over the wall.

Nor was there anything to gain by waiting for one pony who tended to work until sundown.

He turned and paced back.

A pink pony stepped from behind the wall, and the two guards turned to her.  Her head bowed as she walked under their watchful eyes and turned down the street.
 
He followed her along the rooftops, flying from building to building, letting her gain some distance from the gate.  Eventually, he stepped off and glided down to an alley, then joined the ponies on the sidewalk, keeping her in sight as he caught up.
 
“Cherry?”
 
He grimaced at the soft sound of his voice.  That was no good.  He cleared his throat and trotted closer, almost alongside her.
 
“Cherry?”
 
She smiled and looked back.  “Hi.”
 
“Hi.”  His own smile came with genuine ease.  “How are you?”
 
“Better.”
 
“Good.”  He looked her over as they walked, from nose to tail, and his smile grew.  Her eyes were up and alert, her steps crisp and quick, making her tail sway with each one rather than dragging behind her.  “You look a lot better than the last time I saw you.  What did I miss?”
 
Her smiled widened.  “Well, I got a visit from Shining Armor, like they promised.  He was very interested in you.”

“What did you tell him?”

“Just what you told me, about serving a noble lady.”  She laughed—once.  “I think that got under his skin.  One of the many, many things he had to say was not to let some noble’s fawning pantywaist sweet talk his way into the castle.  At least I didn’t see those two again yesterday.”  She took a breath.  “I’m... I’m sorry you saw... heard all that.”
 
He nodded.  “What happened?”
 
 “I don’t know.”  She turned her face aside, eyes downcast.  “They just never liked me, and they’re not the only ones.  I don’t even know how it started, but everypony is just convinced I didn’t get my spot on my own.  They think... well, you heard what they think.”  She snorted.  “It’s getting old, honestly, them trying to figure out who I slept with.  They’ve been recycling suspects.”
 
He grunted.  “So what happened?”
 
Her ears flattened to almost hide under her mane, her cheeks flushing as she jerked her chin farther away.  “N-nothing happened.”  It was barely a whisper.  “You don’t think—”
 
“No, I don’t believe them for a second.  But if you’re used to it, what was different about yesterday?”
 
Cherry bit her lip and turned to look into his eyes, hers glistening as they lingered on his face.  She blinked, and turned her eyes to the ground.
 
He had not anticipated that face.  Her silent message begged for a response, but he didn’t know what.  He wanted to kill the silence.  It dragged on and on, and he felt the distance between them grow with every heartbeat.

But she’s there, fool.

His eyes kept landing on her shoulder, less than a leg’s length away.  In half of a second, his hoof could reach her.

He walked on.
 
“I’m sorry,” she muttered, “about how I acted.  You stood up for me, and when they left, I should have... I was just too embarrassed.”
 
“That’s what I don’t understand.  What happened to you?”  He sighed.  “I’ve seen it before.  I saw you stare at the other ponies when we ate at the café like they were carrying a plague.  Unicorns.  The night we met at the diner, I saw you hide from unicorns on the street.  And yesterday, again, unicorns got to you.”
 
She glanced at him, and the brief glimpse he caught of her eyes confirmed what he knew: she knew what she did.  Cherry angled her path into an alleyway, and she took several slow steps in before turning to face him again.  “It’s kind of an open secret.  I haven’t talked about it outside, well, my parents and...”  She sat down.  “I haven’t talked about it much.”
 
“I didn’t push it this far to turn away now.  Neither did you.”
 
She swallowed and nodded.  “The invasion was the start of it.  Or the ending, I guess.  I—” She wiped her eyes.  “I’d been that afraid before.”
 
He gave her a moment, then held out a hoof, gesturing for her to continue.
 
Cherry spoke, her voice coming out as a whimper.  She closed her eyes.  “I was mugged.”
 
“Someone attacked you?”  He forced his jaw to unclench as understanding came.  “Unicorns.”
 
“It happened a couple months before the invasion.  I was walking home, and three stallions pulled me into an alley.  Their magic threw me against a wall, and that was it.  They had me before I could even blink.”
 
An unbidden image of her face sprang to his mind, one more he had not seen in his time on the roof, but had seen on others too many times to count.  Her features were pulled into a grotesque mask—eyes panic-stricken, ears pulled back, and her mouth open—

He swallowed back an unfamiliar feeling and forced the image away before her phantom scream reached his ears.  My concern is justified.  That was what mattered.  He repeated the mantra, and allowed Dawnbreaker to show his anger in a low growl.  He sat down, silent, and waited.
 
Cherry moved one hoof across another’s ankle.  “One grabbed my legs and held them together.”  She rubbed her shoulder.  “Another pinned my body.”  Her hoof quivered as she brushed her snout.  “And the last muzzled me.”

Paralyzed.  Just like she was during the invasion.  “You were helpless.”

She nodded.  “He knew it, too.  The leader, the one that took my voice.  He... he laughed.  He laughed right into my face.”  Her hoof moved back to her shoulder, hugging herself.  “I shut my eyes.  I... I just shut my eyes and listened to them all laugh.  I couldn’t even beg them to let me go.”
 
He fought to keep his hooves still and shook his head to clear the rising red mist clouding his thoughts.  Pointless.  Cruel.  That isn’t strength.  “Why?  What did they want from you?”
 
“My money.”  She snorted.  “All three bits I had.  They shoved me down after they took it, and my eyes snapped open.  I saw the blue one look over his shoulder and call it a toll.  The leader and the red one laughed at that.”
 
“A toll?”  He sneered, glaring back at the street.  This is what the ponies allow in their cities?  “A toll!”
 
“That’s what the leader hissed in my ear, that Canterlot is a unicorn town.  I guess the other two followed his cue.”
 
“But they—!”  He took a breath.  It can’t be.  There’s no chance.  “I bet they didn’t know they attacked someone on the castle staff.  What did the guards do to them?”
 
Cherry was silent for a moment.  “Nothing.”
 
His voice dropped, and he hissed, “They let them go?”
 
“They didn’t find them.  Couldn’t find them.  I went straight back to the castle, and the guards went ballistic when I told them what happened.  Shining Armor took over the case personally.”  She bowed her head.  “I couldn’t tell them anything.  A yellow face, and two others that were red and blue.  Dawn, the guards never had a chance of finding them here.  Not in a city like Canterlot.  They got away with it because of me.”
 
“I don’t believe that.  You’re a gardener, not a soldier.  What were you supposed to do, fight them off?  The guards had their role to play—to protect you, or to catch who hurt you if they couldn’t—and they failed both.  There was nothing you could have done.”
 
“I could have looked at them!  I had a chance to help catch them, and I... I... I didn’t take it.”  Cherry slumped forward, shaking as her voice grew rougher.  “There was nothing I could have done but look at them, and I didn’t have the courage to do one thing.  The only thing.”  She wiped her eyes.  “And then the changelings came and I didn’t even have the courage to run away!”

“That...”

His words fled from him.  Chrysalis would have known what to say.  She was the teacher.  Her lessons were harsh, but she had never taken joy in them.  His training served a purpose, gave him a direction to grow and learn.

Her hive left her behind.

He wouldn’t.
 
“She used rings,” he said.  “My lady, I mean.  She used them as punishment, to anchor me down or shut me up.”
 
Cherry hid behind her mane.  “I knew she was a unicorn.”

“Don’t cry for me.  That’s not what I meant.”  He reached out, brushing her mane away from her face.  The snow-soft hair fell behind her neck, and he rested his hoof on her shoulder.

She glanced at him, then turned her face away.
 
He cradled her chin in his ankle, tugging her around to face him.  “I know what being helpless feels like.  I know what it means to have everything stripped away from you.  You’ve endured it twice, and I promise that you know what courage is now.  The next time something you care about is threatened, you won’t flinch.”  He grinned.  “And that’s what I know about you.”
 
Cherry touched his hoof, pulling herself along his foreleg like a lifeline until her leg wrapped around his neck.  Her mouth moved with no sound as she leaned into him, holding on with her other foreleg, her breath tickling his ear.
 
Her heart beat next to his.  He could feel it.
 
His hoof held the back of her head while his other crept around her body, pressing her closer.  Warmth spread through his body from his core.  He lowered his face into her mane, losing himself for a moment in its scent.
 
He felt a gentle touch—a poke of her nose—on his neck, and he buried his muzzle deeper into her hair, returning the gesture.  Her shoulders shifted, and he loosened his grip as she pulled away.  He lifted a hoof to her red eyes, drying a tear with his fur.
 
She shook in mute laughter, rubbing her other eye.  Her hoof moved up to her mane and brushed it.
 
He smiled.
 
She returned it, brushing her hair long after it was straightened.
 
“Cherry Blossom.”
 
She squeaked and backed away from him.
 
A unicorn guard pony stood at the entrance to the alley, but the usual gold of his armor and helmet was trimmed around polished purple.  The chest plate bore an insignia of a shield painted with a stripe and a four-pointed star.  His blue eyes bore into him for a moment, and then moved to Cherry.
 
“If you were going to sneak off with your friend again, you might have waited until you were out of sight of the gate.  I believe you have a job to do.”
 
“Y-yes, Captain, I do.”  Cherry slinked away, giving Dawn one last smile over her shoulder before she turned the corner.
 
The Captain, is it?
 
Shining Armor, in the flesh, stared right into his eyes.  There was cool poise in his look, a confidence that had been tempered away from arrogance.  He analyzed him, from hoof to mane, purposefully lingering on each detail, sizing him up as a potential threat.  “Dawnbreaker.”
 
He didn’t look away.  He was only Dawnbreaker, a friend of Cherry Blossom’s and nothing more than a visiting pegasus, but the victor over his queen stood just hooves away, looking for any sign of suspicion.  His heart—the adrenaline—raced under the mask.  “I am.”
 
Shining Armor sniffed the air.  A moment later, he narrowed his eyes as his horn began to emit a faint violet light.
 
Dawnbreaker smiled, flicking his eyes back and forth between the horn and the Captain’s face.  He tilted his head with a raised eyebrow.
 
The glow faded away.
 
“Is something wrong?”
 
Shining Armor stepped back, but while his body turned away, his gaze remained stubbornly zeroed in until he took his first step.  “Be careful.”

He kept his silence and smirk as the Captain walked away, following him after a moment to the alleyway’s opening.

Yellow, red, and blue coats.

He counted all the ponies he saw on the busy street with those colors, stopping after the first dozen.  Canterlot indeed proved itself a unicorn town—especially in the upscale sections next to the castle.

No three of them travelling together, though.  That’s no excuse.  Failures.

Shining Armor continued on his way, oblivious to the glare he was receiving.

If the guards wouldn’t live up to their duty, he would step in.  He took to the sky, heading back to the warehouse district, but keeping an eye out for the three colors.  His day wasn’t over yet.