The road was lonesome that day. Not truly surprising, considering how far she was from any major civilised area. Even far-away towns like Fillyhood needed entertainers now and again, and Trixie Lulamoon was more than happy to provide such a service. Even if it meant trudging through somewhat-creepy forests for a day or two.
Much like the Everfree before she became its friend, her surroundings were deathly silent, save for the sound of the trees swaying in the wind. If there were any locals, they most certainly did not let their presence be known, which only served to unnerve the travelling pony further.
And then, there was a whine, somewhere in front of her. Rather than aggressive, it was pitiable, pain-filled sound. The showpony quickened her pace and soon spotted its source. A young earth pony stallion, or perhaps just an old colt, lay on the ground in the middle of the road. His fur was a dark shade of brown, his mane a complimenting orange. His side was obviously wounded, as if slashed by a claw or talon. He winced in pain just as she called out:
"Are you alright?" a pair of surprised, azure eyes met her own. She walked closer and sat down next to him.
For a few moments, it seemed like he was mustering the will to speak. Then, he spoke out and... it was a strange:
"Och, yez," his pronunciation was a bit off. A foreigner, maybe, "not too bad, will mend."
"Oh, no, no! You could get an infection or something! Let me have a look."
"O-ochkay."
Her horn glowed as she reached into her trusty travel bag. Food, camping supplies, a bit of mane gel for those wonky mornings, a small photo scrapbook... it was amazing how a bit of magic could help carry things. Ah, there it was! With a smile, she levitated a small, white box and opened it up, revealing bandages and various other medical supplies. Immediately, she got to work.
The wound was long, but thankfully shallow, a light scrape by most standards. A bit of disinfectant wouldn't hurt, of course. Well, it would hurt hurt, but... oh, whatever, where was the blasted bottle? She whispered:
"Hold still, this might sting a bit."
"Ack," her patient winced, "burning good?"
"Burning good," she smiled, "now, may I know your name?"
"Name Rufuz," his smile, unlike his grammar, was clear and sincere.
"Pleased to meet you! I'm Trixie. Would you mind telling me how this all happened?"
He rubbed his chin:
"Normal walk. Then got off path. Think other was hungry."
"Well, you better be more careful in the future."
"Yez. You head to town?"
She nodded enthusiastically:
"Yup. Gonna' put on a performance!"
"Per-for-mance?"
"Umm, theatre? Play? Acting?"
"Och, I see! Maybe not good idea," he glanced nervously at their surroundings, "town scary. No ponies."
Immediately, her ears perked up and she stood back up:
"No ponies?"
"Gone. Mussing, err, not there. Not know why."
"In that case, do you think you can stay on the path now?"
"Yez, I be careful. But what you do?"
"I need to get to the bottom of this. Stay safe, Rufuz."
As she broke into a gallop towards the secluded town, she heard him shout:
"Ya' too, Trixie."
Unlike all other words, her name was pronounced perfectly.
Fillyhood was in fact empty. She remembered her last visit. The friendly locals, the cheerful faces of the children. There was none of that now, replaced by vacant structures and unbroken, unending silence. A shiver ran down her spine as she walked through the empty streets.
Her mind raced, imagining a dozen horrific scenarios responsible for the current state, but there was no trace or clue left behind by any would-be kidnappers, monsters or assorted boogiemen. Possessing very little to go on, Trixie decided there was only one way to find out. First-hoof experience.
That night, a lone light shone at the outskirts of Fillyhood, emanating from the fire of a small camp. A small tent had been set up and its inhabitant was currently visiting dreamland without a care in the world. Easy pickings.
Shapes moved in the surrounding trees, cautiously watching the scene before finally springing into action. They were quick and precise, snuffing out the fire in two seconds flat, before surrounding the tent. It was only when they tried to seize their prize that they realised they had been tricked. Instead of a pony, only stones awaited them in the bedroll.
From the safety of the shadows, two violet eyes watched the scene unfold. Her assailants were ponies, or well, at least pony-like. The fact that she had outwitted them seemed to irritate the kidnappers to no end, which filled Trixie with no small amount of glee. The attackers hissed at each other, then moved into the forest once more.
Unbeknownst to them, they were being followed. The showpony, safely wrapped in concealing magic, followed their prints and sounds as best she could, but she was falling behind. And then, suddenly, the sounds abruptly stopped and she froze. Her senses scanned the area, hoping to identify a threat. Instead, she felt something strange. An uncharacteristically warm breeze from somewhere nearby.
She walked toward it until her hoof suddenly touched nothing but air. For but a moment, she dared illuminate her surroundings. A hole in the ground, large enough to fit several ponies. The tunnel beyond it stretched deep into the ground. Many strange, hoof-like steps could be seen in the dirt, it was obviously a frequented route.
With a deep sigh, Trixie put on her best determined look and descended into the belly of the beast.
The tunnels were wide like the roads of a surface city. Oh, yes, there was more than one. Just like streets and intersections, they connected to each other. Unlike a regular street, they had the advantage of several available elevations, and so the paths became complicated really quickly. The dim lighting, provided by crystalline torches, wasn't helping too much, either. For just a moment, she considered the relatively frequent appearance of such light sources, but then continued on her way.
What unnerved her the most was how quiet the place was. No clatter of hooves, no distant chatter, just her and the cool, underground breeze. Step by step, she crept forward, breathing controlled, silent. That was when a sudden shout echoed through the underground:
"It escaped!?"
Even as it spread, Trixie at first couldn't tell where its origin was. Then, she closed her eyes. She had gotten good at the whole 'seeing without sight' ordeal. Ignoring the breeze rustling through her fur, she concentrated on sound alone. The voice was positively furious, spreading far and wide from... she opened her eyes and looked to her right, at one of the many side tunnels. There.
The voice was female and... somewhat alluring, even when filled with fury. Soon enough, she heard snippets from its primary recipients. A frightened, almost snivelling set of excuses and explanations which obviously were not heard:
"I do not care for your excuses! Do you realise what this means?! That pony could spread word of our doings here! We could be found out and then... you will organise search parties at once and find them!"
Trixie finally reached her destination, a positively massive chamber within the depths. She could see dozens of different tunnels along the walls and even ceiling, many of them obviously inaccessible without the aid of wings. The area was dominated by a makeshift throne of stone and soil, with a few gemstones thrown in for good measure. It sat there, at the heart of this empire of dirt, currently vacant.
A small group of figures huddled close together, trembling slightly. They were akin to ponies, yet obviously not. Lacking any sort of fur, they were covered head-to-toe in a strange substance not unlike insect chitin. All of them had large wings, similar to those of a fly, coupled with short, sharp horns. Their eyes shone in the dim light. Most disturbingly, their legs were strange, possessing holes and irregular angles in their structure.
The being that towered over them menacingly possessed much the same traits, but it was also different. She was distinctly feminine, much taller and slender than her cohorts and actually possessed a strangely beautiful mane of a dark shade of green. Trixie could not see her face from that angle, as she was turned away.
One of the cohorts called out, after mustering some courage:
"I-It shall be done, my Queen."
"Good," even when stern and commanding, Trixie couldn't help but love the sound of her voice, "I want them captured before next sundown. Otherwise..."
A loud screech to the showpony's left attracted many gazes from within the chamber and her own. It was yet another of the Queen's servants, assuming a battle stance as it gazed at her. She glanced back into the chamber. All eyes were on her. The most unnerving stare was the Queen's, as her dark green eyes seemed to pierce into Trixie's soul. Without a second thought, she ran, even as a mighty shout echoed throughout the tunnels:
"After her!"
She galloped as fast as her legs could, but even so, she couldn't escape the sound of hooves and buzzing wings behind her. Her pursuers steadily grew in number as more and more drones joined the chase from other side tunnels. Trixie sighed mentally. She could run, but she had no idea where she was going without a map to the underground maze.
An opportunity presented itself via a large crossroad. With a bright flash, the number of escapees tripled, each Trixie heading for a different path. The guards, after no small amount of confusion, split into three squads and continued their pursuit. Only once the sound of their hoofsteps disappeared in the distance did Trixie allow herself a sigh. With a thought, the concealing magic was cancelled and she reappeared, as if from thin air, before turning back around and running the other way. She had to find a way back to the surface.
Stealthily, Trixie navigated the underground, sinking into the shadows whenever more drones passed by. If she could only find the throne chamber again, she could orient herself from there. She cautiously stepped into another hallway and chose a direction. She only managed a few steps before a flash of emerald light stopped her dead in her tracks. The Queen stood there, proud and tall, her lips curled into a predatory smile. From this distance, Trixie could see a final facial feature. A sizeable scar, stretching all the way from her forehead down to her neck. Full of confidence, she spoke:
"End of the road, my dear."
Trixie assumed a battle stance and replied:
"Well, if you insist."
The other chuckled:
"Oh, I do," she inspected one of her irregular hooves, mockingly, "I can't allow a little misbehaving pony to escape, after all. I must say, you are a slippery one."
"Thank you. May I ask who I have the honour of evading?"
"Ah, one with proper etiquette, as well! What a find! You have the esteemed honour of speaking to Chrysalis, Queen of this hive."
Trixie's eyes went wide:
"The changeling queen who attacked Canterlot a few years back. Unsuccessfully."
Chrysalis growled:
"Hmph, quite. But don't you worry, my second attempt shall be successful. All thanks to brave ponies like you," her inspected hoof stomped the ground, "the time for talk is over."
The changeling's horn shone brightly, before releasing a bolt of arcane energy. Trixie barely managed to blink away in time before it cut a hole into the wall. She retaliated with a small barrage of projectiles. Chrysalis grinned as an emerald barrier formed around her and casually deflected the shots. She glanced again at her blue opponent and cackled.
The barrier suddenly started expanding rapidly and Trixie hastily erected her own, trusty shield for defence. She braced herself for the impact, but was unprepared either way. The wall of energy slammed into her like a tidal wave, shattering her shield like glass and sending her flying through the air.
As Trixie slid down the wall, her vision already blurry, she could hear dozens of hoofsteps all around her and a final command:
"Take her to the holding cells. I shall deal with her later."
Trixie blacked out just as she was lifted off the ground.
She woke up after an indeterminable amount of time on the cold, uncomfortable floor of a cell. The bars were formed from some kind of crystal and seemed to radiate with some innate magic. She sighed to herself and looked around.
She was on the upper level of what could only be described as a prison complex. While her area only seemed to have two small cells, the lower level was positively packed. Finally, she knew where all the ponies from Fillyhood had gone. Unicorns, earth ponies, pegasi, young and old, all were kept in the lower levels, under the vigilant watch of an entire cohort of guards.
Casually, she tried to conjure a spell to try and affect the bars, only to be rewarded with a splitting headache. So much for that plan. Trixie sunk to the ground, her mind racing, trying to come up with some clever, fantastical method of escape. No dice. It was then that someone spoke to her:
"Hello. You are new here, I see."
It was feminine, with a slightly higher pitch, but still quite pleasant, and originated from the cell next to hers. She turned and her eyes went wide. Firstly, and quite obviously, the occupant was a changeling. Much taller and slender than average, with a short, beautiful azure mane and a matching pair of piercing, enchanting eyes. Trixie didn't quite know how to react to that, so she just replied:
"Yes. I must say, the reviews lied about the quality of the accommodations."
She chuckled a little, then replied:
"Well, it's not all bad. The magic-negating crystals are quite pretty, wouldn't you agree?"
"Oh, yes, of course," she smiled right back, "I suppose introductions are in order. Trixie Lulamoon."
"I am known as Mothra. I wish the circumstances of our meeting were different."
"That makes two of us. If I may be so bold, you are quite different from the other changelings, are you a...?"
Her lips formed a bitter smile:
"One can hardly be a queen without subjects. I would have been a queen, yes. But then," she looked down towards the other cells, "I couldn't leave with all this mess that was happening. We changelings are better than just some bunch of kidnappers. Ever since the catastrophe at Canterlot, things have been going downhill."
"And I assume you voiced your disapproval?"
"Yes. But the Queen, she," her eyes gazed into nothingness for a while, "I know she thinks this is what is best for her changelings in the long run. She gorges herself on love, in preparation for another attack, but," she shook her head, "that'll only bring more pain. More pointless fighting. Haah, not much good I can do from this cell, though."
"Don't lose hope," Trixie's look was one of confidence and determination, "I'm sure we can set things right somehow."
"How can you be so sure?"
"From my experience, things always go well in the end."
"I hope you are right," she looked back down, "for their sakes, if nothing else."
Trixie followed Mothra's gaze. Down by the cells, young changelings were busy playing with the captive children through the bars of their cell. A young mare and one of the guards chatted, as informally as possible, giggling at each other's comments.
Trixie nodded. For their sakes.
Hours passed, yet an answer to their predicament did not seem to present itself. Raw force wouldn't make the bars even budge, while their arcane talents were unusable. Being robbed of her main talent made Trixie feel utterly frustrated. The conundrum at hand seemed unsolvable without it and so, the showpony just sat while gazing into space.
Then, there came a sudden click at the door. Surprised, she looked up to see a changeling unlocking her cell. A couple more stood watch at the entrances to the room, clad in the armour of the prison guards. As soon as her door was opened, a strangely familiar voice called out to her:
"Trixie," said utterly perfectly, "come out. No make noise."
The puzzle pieces fell together in her brain:
"Rufus?"
"Z at end intended, but yez."
She got up and slowly walked outside. Looking down, she could see the other guards were busy freeing all the captive pony folk. Rufuz moved to Mothra's cell and unlocked it as well, before bowing slightly. Finally able to stretch her hooves properly, the captive princess spoke to her rescuers:
"What is all this?"
"We plan for long while," the fake foreigner replied, "I run trades for some supplies. All ponies get out. You too. Make new hive. We dig out side tunnel. Bring everyone back up."
Trixie chimed in:
"But what about you?"
"Me, us, not important. You get out safe, all that matters."
"Like hay it does," Trixie practically stomped over to him, "I'm not leaving until Chrysalis is stopped."
"She's right," they all turned to Mothra, "if we just leave now, there is nothing stopping the Queen from just finding another place and continuing to starve the hive. I won't allow it!"
"But... what we do?"
The changeling princess' determined visage faltered a bit as she looked down at Rufuz:
"I... don't know. The Queen believes that this is best for the hive. How could we make her see she is wrong?"
Trixie suddenly smiled:
"I do believe I have a plan."
"What is it?" the assembled changelings spoke in unison.
"Rufuz?"
"Yez?"
"Let me take a good look at you."
"Have our scouts reported back yet?"
The throne chamber was relatively empty, with Chrysalis addressing only a handful of changelings.
"The path to Canterlot itself is relatively unguarded, however, the final stretch will be problematic. The new guard captain is quite... diligent, my Queen."
"Hmph, a few guard ponies won't be able to stop us once the time is right. Good work, captain. You may leave."
The changelings bowed and left together. As soon as they were out of earshot, Chrysalis allowed herself a deep sigh. She rose from her throne and walked aimlessly within the expansive, empty chamber. To herself, she spoke:
"Haaaah, a few guard ponies... few hundred, more like. And no element of surprise. But if we take Canterlot, everything will be alright again. For all the survivors..."
A daring shout cut through the air:
"Sounds to me that you have some doubts, Chrysalis."
"That voice," the Queen turned, frowning, as a quite dazzling showpony jumped down onto the floor of the throne room, "you."
"Oh, in fact, me. I'd hate being anyone else."
"How did you get out?!"
"A true showpony always has a few tricks up her sleeve."
"We'll see just how big your bags of tricks is."
Trixie immediately darted out of the way of an arcane attack, the sound of the impact echoing throughout the tunnels. Chrysalis was loaded with power and did not hold back. Unlike their previous encounter, however, Trixie had ample space to manoeuvre around her assaults, all the while peppering her with taunts:
"Come on, you're not gonna' take over Canterlot like that!"
"Fool," emerald energy illuminated her face as she fired another blast, "it is only a matter of time! They'll pay for what they did to us!"
"To the hive, or just you?"
"Silence! The hive could have been feasting on love if it weren't for those damned ponies!"
"Sounds to me like petty revenge."
"I said silence!"
It went back and forth in such a manner, taunts and retorts between blinding displays of magic. A crowd slowly gathered to witness this display as changelings flocked towards the chamber from every corner of the hive. Dozens upon dozens crammed themselves into the entrances to the chamber to view the arcane duel.
As elusive as Trixie, it was clear who had the upper hand. The scarred changeling shrugged off any attack as if it were a mere nuisance, while her own blasts carved through the walls like jackhammers. It was only a matter of time until the showpony slipped up and got hit. Just a little longer:
"You wouldn't last long on Canterlot's throne, anyway."
"Once my changelings are fed, no one will stop us!"
"And how many are you willing to let die on the way?"
"As few as possible."
"I spy a vague answer."
"Enough!"
There was the slip-up. Just one step too far to the right and the Queen's blast sent her flying through half the room. Shakily, she still managed to stand and look at her gorged opponent:
"N-not bad."
"I would tend to agree. Now it's time to end this."
Chrysalis' gait was menacing as she approached the exhausted showpony with a firm, stone cold glare. She did not register the movement at the edge of her vision as a lone figure darted between her and her prey, shouting:
"My Queen, please...!"
"Out of my way!" Casually, a swat of magic brushed the small figure aside.
She remained focused on Trixie, ignoring the united gasp of the crowd, until a single voice pierced through:
"Is this how you wish to save the hive, my Queen?"
In an instant, her arcane display faded as her eyes went wide and she looked towards the source of the voice. A would-be queen gazed at her, standing above the squirming body of a small changeling, who was visibly wounded. Chrysalis could muster only a single reply:
"Mothra, I..."
"The ends justify the means? No matter how many get hurt or worse?"
"Canterlot is the capital of Equestria. With so many ponies, the hive could feed for decades!"
"If there is a hive left after your starved, worried 'army' marches."
Trixie glanced over the assembled drones. They all seemed ready to serve, but not more than that. Some seemed to be barely standing, yet still did not waver. If the Queen so much as thought of something, they would have thrown themselves into a meat grinder to achieve the results. An almost terrifying devotion. Chrysalis retorted, yet her voice was uncharacteristically shaken:
"And what would you have me do? Dig us all a grave while we wallow in our self-pity?"
"Perhaps," the blue-haired princess took a step forward, "avoiding conflict is the better choice. Followed by trying to get along with our neighbours."
"You think it's so simple?! We are invaders to them! Monsters!"
"At first glance, if at all. I've seen our kinds get along just fine, under stressful conditions, I might add," Mothra's eyes were practically pleading, "please. I don't think the hive can take any more pain."
"I," Queen Chrysalis stammered as she looked around. Even then, she knew the masses were still hers, body and soul. Their gazes were tired, their movements sluggish or worse, yet they would have obeyed any command. A shiver ran down her spine, "I," she knew how they felt only too well. She met gazes with the changeling she had hurt. Long-buried doubts, the orchestrators behind so many sleepless nights, came back to the surface in an instant. Heavy was the crown of leadership. She gazed into Mothra's eyes, then took a few steps closer, before whispering, her voice on the verge of cracking, "I have never been so unsure."
The other replied:
"The only thing I know is that they deserve a better future."
They were both silent, but their gaze seemed to last a lifetime. Finally, the Queen spoke:
"Then I hope you know the way."
She took several steps towards her throne of dirt, then began another speech, slowly turning to every changeling looking inside:
"Loyal workers, soldiers, changelings! For long, you have served me as your rightful Queen, through good and ill, through war and peace. I have tried to do my best, yet," she paused for just a moment, "perhaps my best is not enough. Perhaps it is time for my reign to come to a close. The hive thirsts for new blood."
It was at that inopportune moment that Trixie suddenly sneezed. Almost immediately, the wounded changeling simply vanished in a puff of smoke. The crowd gasped in surprise, but the Queen merely watched for a few seconds in silent contemplation, before turning to the showpony:
"An illusion, I see. A convincing one."
Trixie managed to put on a weak smile:
"My plan called for dramatic circumstances, but I didn't want anyone else to get hurt."
"Yet you put yourself in the line of fire?"
"I can handle a few bruises," as if on cue, she winced while standing up, "theoretically."
Chrysalis watched her for a few seconds, before a slight smile crept onto her face:
"What is your name, pony?"
"Trixie Lulamoon," she hastily added, "Your Highness."
"I shall remember it well," she raised her voice once more, "as my final act as Queen, I declare that the pony before you, Trixie Lulamoon, is to be known as an honoured ally of the changelings who came to our aid in dire times. May her name be forever remembered among the broods," a chant rose among the throng, united and clear, "and finally, even though I step down, a worthy successor can be found among us. One with both skill and vision."
The crowd turned to the blue-haired maiden, who rose to her hind hooves and spread her insectoid wings wide:
"A vision of prosperity and unity for all! And I promise you, together, we will not fail!"
"All hail Queen Mothra!"
The chant from before intensified and echoed through the endless tunnels of the hive, as Mothra took a few moments to take in the scene, before she noticed something alarming. A former monarch just walking away quietly. She shouted, barely even audible among the chanting drones:
"Where are you going?"
Chrysalis glanced backwards ad replied in much the same manner:
"Wherever the winds take me. There is no reason for me to stay."
The Queen stepped closer to the dethroned one:
"What do you mean?"
"What possible use could you have for an old changeling," she glanced away, "who cannot even change."
Her horn flashed as her body underwent rapid changes. Unlike a simple illusion, the result was indistinguishable even to Trixie's keen senses. White coat, beautiful violet mane... and then the magic backfired as soon as the transformation reached her scarred face. The energy fizzled and she returned to her regular, slightly unnerving form. Mothra, naturally, was not deterred and came even closer:
"For someone like you? Many. I may have a vision, but I am by no means as experienced as you. A helping hoof is always welcome. And besides, a queen should always have a trusted, devoted advisor," with one last steps she entered what could be considered intimate distance, staring right into Chrysalis' emerald eyes, "please, mother. Help me find the way. For all of them."
Chrysalis looked around at the former changeling armada, then back to her daughter. Without another word, she gently nuzzled her muzzle, then embraced her fully.
Trixie couldn't help but smile.
The negotiations were going well, even if the cadres of armoured changelings and royal guards kept giving each other funny looks. Trixie was glad that the princesses' escort wasn't too large. That would have increased the already-astronomical chance of unconfirmed. rumours spreading.
All three of Canterlot's princesses had rushed to the scene and, after a few nervous glances, agreed to discuss the matter further. Trixie, meanwhile, decided to get some much-needed rest, settling down on a small hill overlooking the uneventful town of Fillyhood. Sweet Celestia, she hadn't come up with a statement so obviously untrue since her meeting with the infamous Cutie Mark Crusaders.
Footsteps sounded from next to her as another figure came to rest next to her. The changeling's mane almost seemed to disappear within the tall grass. The two figures sat in silence for a while, merely observing the happenings below. Finally, the former monarch looked toward the pony and commented:
"Twilight Sparkle was... unexpectedly welcoming."
"She is not the type to hold a grudge. Trust me, I have first-hoof experience. How go the talks?"
"I gave Mothra all the wisdom I could in this matter. Now it falls upon her to make a decision. I cannot help but worry."
"Why so?"
"Our peoples are so different. My past decisions certainly haven't helped our case. Do you think we can live together peacefully, after all that?"
Trixie glanced to the fields below. Fillies, colts and young changelings were busy playing, impersonating and mimicking various famous figures. The little bugs, despite their natural talent, were losing, probably because their magic always seemed to turn them into a chaotic jumble of various colours.
Another lone pair sat under a tree in the distance, a young mare and a shape shifting guard without any armour, chatting while gazing up at the night sky.
She gazed back at her scarred partner and replied:
"Well, I'm not saying it's gonna' be easy, but something tells me everything will be just fine in the end, Chrysalis."
"Heh, I'll take your word for it, Trixie."
With that, they chuckled and resumed watching over the new populace of Fillyhood.