“Ma!”
Chrysalis tried to pay attention to her work.
“Ma!”
A smile threatened to tug at the corners of her mouth.
“Ma-ma!” Something butted against her foreleg.
She turned her muzzle towards the owner making the adorable little sounds. A pale little face beamed up at her with huge blue eyes containing catlike irises. Chrysalis had her pen poised inches over her paper. She had been going into details about the intricacies of changeling societies and how broodmothers were integral for keeping a hive together. There were broodmothers and then there were true broodmothers. Those forced into producing eggs for a hive against their will were nowhere near the same creatures who could wield authority and respect at a level of a queen.
There had been some confusion with Princess Luna as they had one of their many discussions in regards to changeling culture and beliefs. Though a lot of writing from the pages Chrysalis churned out was still a bit confusing to the ponies (the queen was used to being cryptic and it had translated to her words almost unnoticed by herself).
A lot of misconceptions between changeling and pony were going to happen, Chrysalis realized as she set her quill down and ministered to her needy daughter.
“Ma!” chirruped Atalanta happily. It had been her first word and she had been using it almost exclusively to vie for her mother’s attention. She was also far, far, far more energetic than she had been as a hatchling. Despite her pale chitin and blue eyes, she appeared very much a healthy nymph. Chrysalis did notice her daughter had very few holes in her, mostly at the tips of her hooves. Most curious indeed!
Another thing she noticed was the Hunger did not seem to exist so strongly in the happy little nymph. Chrysalis was certain she was mistaken and often checked through her mental link with her daughter. Every time she did, there was no change. On top of that, her daughter was producing her own love.
It was too incredible to believe.
Though this put her at a loss (a rather pleasant one at that), Chrysalis was dumbfounded. She tried feeding Atalanta and found when she did, her daughter could send it right back without even thinking about it. The little princess radiated love. What her mother fed her only made the nymph stronger and sped along her mental development. She said her first word days after becoming a nymph, when normal nymphs took several weeks to form their first syllable.
Chrysalis could never be happier for the circumstances. As of yet, she had heard nothing from the father, nor did she particularly want to. Princess Cadence had made several requests to meet with the queen, only to be rebuffed. The changeling was afraid of Cadence and wanted nothing to do with her. Cadence and Shining Armor had—in one powerful explosion of love—slaughtered almost the entirety of Chrysalis’ military arm.
At least Chrysalis was certain her army had been all but wiped out.
Fortunately, for the queen, Cadence respected her wishes, though continued to ask through Luna. Chrysalis was still quite put out the Princess of Love had handled her daughter. She wondered why Atalanta had not been taken from her.
Certain thoughts had appeared unwarranted and unwanted with disturbing frequency since her daughter's true form became revealed to her. You were wrong. So very, very, and tragically wrong...about a great many things...
“Ma!” Atalanta batted her mother’s muzzle with a little hoof. Her teeny-tiny wings buzzed with overflowing energy. Her little mouth nipped and bit playfully as Chrysalis nuzzled her. For the next few minutes, the pair playfully nipped at each other. Chrysalis of course had to be careful with her fangs while Atalanta clearly showed her teeth had not even begun to bud yet.
There was a knock at the door. Chrysalis frowned as her play was interrupted. Shifting her mouth, she leaned to one side and clamped her jaws around her daughter’s neck and shoulders. Atalanta immediately stopped moving and instinctively went limp, though a little mewl of protest escaped her lips. The queen rose to her hooves and went to the rune circle, dropping Atalanta between her forehooves as she stared daggers at the door. Stupid ponies with their stupid timing. Atalanta squeaked as if in agreement, noting her mother’s stance and copying her mannerisms.
Nightstorm entered. The giant lunar pegasus’ gaze bore into the queen with professional stoicism as the door closed behind him. “Princess Luna wishes to inform you your contact was found and everything as you requested has been relayed to your hive. I have also been instructed to give you an update as to your hive’s current state.” He paused, looking around the room with a single sweep of his eyes. They settled again upon the queen.
Barely containing herself in making a demand, Chrysalis tossed her mane and flicked an ear, outwardly giving a show of coolly digesting the words. “Well, out with it.” If only she was as calm as the words slipping from her tongue!
“All is well. They are relieved to know you are safe and alive. They do not know what to make of your daughter.” Nightstorm flicked his tail and canted his head slightly to one side curiously. “Which begs the question; how did they know about you and your daughter?”
Chrysalis smirked. “Never underestimate a changeling,” she answered.
Atalanta was aware of the huge furry thing with golden eyes and strange leathery wings and her curiosity told her to go over and give it a sniff. It was shaped like Mother, but it smelled so much different. It wore armor like Mother, but it did not give off the same sort of heat her mother’s natural armor did. Peeping with curiosity, she ambled forward, her wings buzzing as she was unafraid of the giant thing now peering down at her. It was so very big, too, she noted as her eyes grew wider and wider the closer and closer she came! She lost her nerve before her mother could call her back and scrambled to the safety of the holed legs.
Nightstorm did not seem amused at Chrysalis, but did seem intrigued by the nymph. “And they did not try to free you? I find that hard to believe.”
“Why do you think they have not tried anything?” challenged the queen icily. “If they had the means or wherewithal to free me from my prison, they would have done so. I assure you, my large and intimidating companion, my hive is perfectly incapable of rescuing me. Use your brain, you oversized bat.” She ignored his glower and shifted her tone to something a little softer. “Did they send a nymph or an adult?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“It’s a simple question. Little changeling or big changeling?” Chrysalis felt her daughter playing with her mane. She had crawled up her leg and was now batting her hooves through the strands of her mother’s hair. Letting her daughter play, she went to the lone chair in the room. It was round and cushioned, like half an open egg. Chrysalis had fashioned it herself as she had plenty of time on her hooves when her daughter napped and she did not want to write. Without asking permission, she hopped up into it and flopped down, mindful of her daughter hanging from her mane like an oversized hair pin.
“A young one, I think. Princess Luna was surprised to see one so young.”
Chrysalis pursed her lips and looked off into the distance, momentarily lost in thought. “Taalia has not been sighted,” she mused to herself. “I do not know if this is a bad thing or a worse thing.” The changeling refocused herself upon the thestral. “And Luna? Why is she not here to present this information to me herself?”
The Night Guard shook his head once. “It is not my place to question the actions of my princess.”
Chrysalis smirked. She already knew. Still, seeing as one thing. Her eyes glowed emerald green as they locked onto his. Nightstorm froze, his orbs going wide. Pupils dilated, widened as Chrysalis asserted herself. The inhibitor was useless in stopping her as her eyes held the thestral in place.
“You will tell me what I want to know,” she commanded.
“I...will tell you what you want to know,” came the reply. Nightstorm sat down on his haunches, staring vapidly at the queen.
“What did Luna tell you about the meeting with the nymph?”
Without so much as a pause, the enthralled thestral replied, “She did all the things you asked of her.”
“You went with her?” Chrysalis asked, tilting her head to one side.
The pony nodded. “I did. It was at her request. As I am your warden, it falls upon me to have a fuller understanding of how to make your stay within the rules set by Their Majesties as comfortable as reasonably possible until the time comes and you are moved elsewhere.”
“Who was the nymph?”
“She did not name herself, but did deliver a list of needs for the hive. Princess Luna surmised they were expecting her and the broodmothers had taken it upon themselves to request aid. As a show of trust, it was given. Food. Medicine. Blankets. Simple fare necessary for survival.”
Chrysalis nodded absently and frowned. It would explain the nymph. “And the state of the hive? How are my children?”
“They are anxious without you.”
Chrysalis bit her lip and a shadow of worry fell over her. Atalanta snuggled into her neck, wrapping her hooves as if she felt her mother need a hug. “Ma!”
“She speaks Equestrian,” observed Nightstorm.
“The word is of my species and not the word you think it is. It is the first word all changeling children learn. It means queen in the oldest known language of my kind.” Chrysalis snorted and waved him off. She was not about to add that yes, Atalanta was saying ‘mommy’ in her own adorable way. “Where was I? Ah, yes, Luna’s meeting with the messenger. Was there any news concerning Taalia?”
“Your hive had not reported seeing her since the last time you knew of her whereabouts.”
“Curious. And there have been no reports by you ponies of unusual activity? No disappearances? No communities going silent?”
“None that I am aware of.”
Chrysalis hummed. “Very well. I should think Luna might be convinced to allow me to make direct contact with my hive. It is essential this happens. This conversation never happened. You were reporting everything Luna told you to report. Remember nothing when my eyes grasped your own. As you were, Nightstorm.”
The stallion shook his head momentarily and blinked. “I apologize. What was I saying?”
“Luna hiding things from me, of course,” Chrysali said with a smirk. She betrayed nothing and seemed for all the world to know the ponies were not going to divulge everything. “I suppose I am on a need-to-know basis.”
A brief smile flashed across that stoic muzzle. “I am sure Your Majesty understands.”
“My Majesty does not,” huffed the queen indignantly. “Anything else?”
“One question, if I may.” Nightstorm adjusted his wings. “Broodmares. You mention in your writings they are slaves to queens to produce nothing but eggs and little else. Your words say they a bred and have little value beyond breeding. When they are no longer of any use, they are discarded. Yet you have two of them yourself for your hive. Why?” His eyes screamed hypocrite through his professional demeanor.
The queen laughed. “There are broodmares who are forced into their labors. Then, there are those who choose to become broodmothers. One is a slave to the queen. The other serves as the support for her respective queen. One produces drones for a single minded purpose, the other produces changelings to meet the needs of the hive. Taalia’s Ravagers, for instance, are sexless killing machines. Technically, they are females, but they cannot breed. The broodmare who laid their eggs did so against her will. A mare who lays against her will always produces sterile offspring. Despair does that to a changeling. If there is no hope, then there can be no new generation. It can be easily assumed one is a false broodmare while the other is true broodmare. Does that make sense to you?”
Nightstorm blinked. “Not really,” he admitted. “It is very confusing. Perhaps Princess Luna would be intrigued to know more of your culture.”
Chrysalis gave him an unamused stare. “I will have you know my broodmares also serve as my domestic advisors. Literally half the hive is their direct offspring. They have never produced more than what the hive has needed. My own mother had two broodmares. A true broodmare is almost as powerful as the queen she serves.”
She considered the wards and runes observing her. The changeling had figured them out. Yes, they were intricate in design, but there were flaws. There was a blind spot in the room. Her chair occupied that spot. So, she could sit in it and weave as much innate magic as she desired, so long as it was within moderation. The inhibitor could only prevent certain and obvious magic, as the ponies had yet to discover the depths and versatility of changeling magic. Her only worry was if Nightstorm would give her ploy away. It was possible. She had probed every time he visited, testing the magic security of her prison. With Luna and Celestia paying her less and less of a mind, Chrysalis felt there would be perhaps just a few more meetings with the alicorns before something was done in regards to her hive. Time was running out. She feared there might even be no more to spare.
Still, Queen Taalia had gone to ground. Changelings had many subtle ways of communication. Interacting with other species without being discovered had honed their skills to a level a master spy would envy.
“Anything else of interest?” she asked Nightstorm as Atalanta crawled over her back. “If not, I my desire for my daughter to be without the influence of an outsider, if you please. Leave Us.”
He glowered at her. “Mind who your jailors are, changeling.”
“I do, captain. Believe me, I do.” She flashed an innocent smile.
Nightstorm grunted and produced a square package from one of his saddlebags. “I have here information on the estate of the former noble who had ordered the attempt on your life. The manor, the land it sits upon, its history, location...Everything that might be of interest and value to you. As ordered by Her Royal Majesties Princess Celestia and Princess Luna, the deed to the land will be given to you and your changelings pending the signing of the peace treaty.”
Chrysalis blinked. “What peace treaty?” she asked flatly.
“This one.” A bound folder was pulled from his other saddlebag. “I suppose this is where you being making counter demands to the demands within.” The stallion used his wings to place both sets of documents on the bed. “I am but the messenger, so please do not take your wrath out on me.”
The queen grunted, waving a dismissive hoof. “Fine. Next time, perhaps my jailor should not be the one to deliver my mail.”
A murderous glint briefly flashed through the stallion’s eyes, but he nodded and said no more as he turned to leave. Chrysalis eyed her bed and the contents upon it while chewing on the inside of her cheek.
“Let’s see how badly the ponies want to screw over Mommy, shall we?” she asked her daughter. Peace treaty indeed! Of all the…
A pair of eyes fell upon her. She calmed as Atalanta gave her a forlorn look. The usually quick to anger queen once again had to stymie her desire to rage and rant and rave at the ponies and their stupid little society.
“I’m sorry,” she said to Atalanta. A tiny smile creased her lips.
“Ma!” chirped Atalanta, happy again.
“Still, there is something bothering me about the meeting,” she mused, tapping a hoof to her chin in thought. As she turned her gaze to the ceiling, an ear flicked. Her daughter noticed the flicking appendage and immediately attacked with with a mock snarl of ferocity. The queen felt the weight of her daughter latching on to the aforementioned ear. The nymph dangled there, her little back hooves kicking to find purchase. Tiny wings buzzed and itty bitty growls issued from her throat.
If her hive had sent a female nymph, alone…
“No. Here? In Equestria?”
But what else could the message be? She had plucked the scents from Nightstorm’s memory from the meeting. Pheromones were important. The smells were telling.
Chrysalis felt her blood run cold. “Taalia has found another hive.”
Queen Taalia felt the best way to begin my ‘education’ was to hurl me into the middle of her work. Her queen sent her to ‘chastise’ Lesser hives who did not do as what was expected of them, which was usually the impossible. Not enough production from a mole hive? Exterminate all the young males and make the females watch.
A young queen voices her opinion on the conditions under which her hive is forced to labor? Remove her wings and devour her eggs before her eyes.
A Greater queen feels there are simply too many Lesser changelings within her territory? They were culled.
Taalia basked in the glory of bloody violence. Her Ravagers were unstoppable machines who obeyed their ‘mother’ with mindless passion. Their hatred drove them, gave them strength, and always had them in a rage. I was forced to do things that tore a little more of my soul away from me each time I had to do an atrocity. The bloody horrors I witnessed. I still hear the screams and remember the smell of hot, spilled blood.
Where was the promise made to keep me from harm? I wanted death more and more with each passing day. I wanted to be at my mother’s side, to join the rest of my fallen hive.
Taalia had a particular pleasure when it came to stumbling across rogue hives. Oh, they were few and far between. As I mentioned before, my aunt was out there, somewhere, a rogue queen of a rogue hive who fought against conforming to a life of slavery and suffering.
I was too young to do magic then, past the innate abilities all changelings possess, but I could learn to handle myself, to strengthen my limbs and become agile and deadly. I was trained in the arts of war. My lessons were brutal. I was pitted against slaves, other changelings. Zebra. Griffons. Minotaur. Other horrors, like sand jackals and dire moles. I was wounded often. I tried to get myself killed a few times, but Taalia was always there, preventing the killing blow. I was healed of my injuries and subsequently punished. I questioned Taalia why she went against the will of our living goddesses as my treatment completely baffled and confused me.
I was beaten for questioning, but only after Taalia coldly pointed out, “You are healed. You have no scars. Stop crying and do what you are told. You have been marked and it has now become my duty to make you the deadliest changeling in the world. But first, I must break you of this sentiment you carry in your heart. I will break you, child. Mark my words well.”
So, my body was broken. Many times. I think, perhaps, there was injury done to my mind, but I cannot recall. Some things I can recall with clarity, but others require asking others that had been at a certain place at a certain time what they recall. Though I might had been there, the memories of some events fail me.
I cannot for certain say what I remember can be completely accurate. I remember my mother, but not her face. I remember her voice, her eyes, but not the beauty that was behind them. I remember her soul, and the memory of the day she died is like a dream in fog. I remember the Ravagers she fought and slew, I remember seeing her blood upon the ground.
Why can I not remember her face?
Queen Taalia would not break me. My mother’s soul forbade it.
I will always remember…
Blue...