//------------------------------// // Chapter 5 // Story: A Changeling Heart // by Rocket Lawn Chair //------------------------------// *** For Alya’s third birthday party, Twilight and Celestia had gotten her a little silver tiara with pink jewels. It was fake, of course, but it looked splendid in her mane. It hadn’t been her real birthday, either. Twilight and Celestia had no clue how old Alya was. They guessed she was close to three years old. Alya looked different now. She had four tiny black legs with a little, jagged hoof on the end of each. Her mane was turquoise, but not silky and soft like it had been during her birthday party. It felt more like the leaf of an orchid, all waxy and flexible. Her eyes were disproportionately large compared to her head, but that had also been the case when she had the form of a filly. Twilight still thought she looked close to three years old. She was only now starting to see how much had actually changed. She was only now realizing that her daughter was the least of these changes. But another thought rapidly eclipsed her thoughts of Alya as she descended into the hive. From the moment her wings caught the squalid catacomb air, Twilight could tell that something was not right. For one thing, the walls of the cavern pulsed with an eerie glow as if some tremendous beast was living beneath the layer of slime, and Twilight instantly contracted the unsettling visual of being inside a monster’s throat. For another thing it was becoming much more difficult to sustain her protective spell, as it seemed the magically-repugnant tar was more potent down within the hive. Overall there were plenty of things that did not feel right, but the one she felt right away was that her wings were not supporting her weight. She’d hardly descended twenty feet when her marginally controlled dive turned into an out-of-control spiral. Her body slammed into the greasy wall, then bounced off into the opposite wall, and down she fell, utterly on the whims of gravity. She couldn’t tell how far she’d fallen, but after three more bounces she had a difficult time keeping track of anything at all. She gripped tightly to her waning senses, on the brink of completely losing consciousness, clinging on to warm thoughts about her family. She supposed, if they were to be her last thoughts, at least they should be good ones. Something wide and black and solid-looking loomed out of the haze before her eyes. Twilight didn’t know if it was the wall or the ground or the infinite beyond, but it was coming on fast, and she had no choice but to embrace whichever one it ended up being. She closed her eyes and braced herself. Quite suddenly, the world went still. For a moment Twilight thought that she may have died. There wasn’t wind screaming past her face and her entire body felt numb, except for the dull thrumming fire in her right leg. She then quickly rationalized that she wasn’t dead. But, then again, how was that possible? Slowly she opened her eyes. She was suspended mid-air, hardly a foot above the ground. The ground was slimy and black, coated in tar and fleshy, pulsing, greenish things that she hoped weren’t as alive as they looked. The walls were also coated with these greenish lumps, and as far as she could guess, so was the ceiling. It was tricky to make out much of the chamber, for it expanded so vastly that most of its labyrinthine, spired interior was shrouded in the omnipresent green haze. “So glad you could join us, my dear Twilight!” came a cruel, slick voice. Twilight whipped her head around to face the speaker. She found herself face-to-face with a tall, lithe creature with a jet-black body and chittering insectoid wings on her back. Twilight had put this creature near the top of her Top Ten: Never Want to See Again list. “Hope it wasn’t too much trouble finding the place,” giggled Queen Chrysalis coyly. “I know we’re a little out of the way, but our doors are always open. We simply adore having guests drop in!” The queen laughed, and a cacophony of screeching laughs joined hers. Twilight noticed for the first time that there were hundreds—probably thousands—of eyes lining the shadows in ceiling and walls of the chamber. She must have fallen right into the central chamber of the changeling hive. Chrysalis’ needle-like horn glowed with a steady green glare, sustaining the spell which held Twilight upside-down above the ground. She circled Twilight slowly, peeling back her black lips to make sure her fangs were the most noticeable part of her face. The intense grin she held made Twilight wonder how many times she’d been able to practice it. Unless you were somepony who particularly enjoyed living beneath a toxic swamp while constantly surrounded by thick green haze and the irritating chitter of insect wings, there wasn’t much reason to grin. “You know, I’m actually surprised to see that you made it all the way down here by yourself. You weren’t looking especially…..ah, shall I say, conscious?....when I stopped by earlier this evening,” chuckled the queen. Her voice carried the same righteous confidence that a looming storm cloud carries over a flimsy blade of grass. She released her magic without warning, and Twilight’s face planted into the ground with a moist squelch. Immediately five changeling drones swooped down from the walls to restrain Twilight. She lay still and made no effort to resist. The queen approached Twilight slowly. “It really is fortunate that you decided to invite yourself in,” she said. “I was worried that after coming all this way you would drop my daughter off, then leave without saying hello.” “How did you know I was coming?” demanded Twilight, trying to stall for time. She didn't care what the queen would say, as long as it gave her enough time to track down Alya's whereabouts. Her eyes scanned the chamber while the queen laughed coldly. “Oh, come now, Princess Twilight, don’t tell me you don’t keep a sharp eye on every ne’r-do-well that crosses your borders. Don’t tell me there’s yet another weakness in Equestria for me to exploit! My scouts have been watching your progress through my domain ever since you first set hoof in it.” “Where is Alya?” “Oh! You’ve given her a name? How touching! How….Equestrian!” the queen hooted. Her minions joined in with her laughter, and the whole hive rumbled and screeched. “You better not have hurt her, or I’ll—” “Hurt her? Now, why would I ever do that to one of my own subjects, my own offspring, even? Why, I wouldn’t dare harm the one who is to be my successor some day!” “She’s not your daughter,” huffed Twilight, She tried standing to her hooves, but the guards shoved her back down into the slime. “She’s mine, and I’m not giving up on her. Not this time.” “Hah! Aww, you’re being serious, aren’t you?” mocked the queen in such a condescending voice that Twilight wanted to get up and slap her face right there. “You know, it always amazed me how you ponies are even alive. It boggles the mind that you have the capacity to survive with your heads constantly floating in the land of make-believe. I swear, your entire race wouldn’t even be a smear under my hoof by the time I was through with you.” “Huh!” snorted Twilight. “Says the bug who got swatted by us the last time we met.” The queen’s lip quivered perilously, then melted into a cruel smirk. “Newsflash, princess: the swatting’s on the other hoof today,” she snapped, and she accentuated her statement by slapping Twilight’s cheek with the back of her hoof. The slap seared against her already-bruised face, but Twilight fought back the tears. “Where is Alya?” she growled again. “It’s cute you think my spawn is one of your toy fillies,” sneered the queen, “but playtime is over. You wish to see the future queen of the changelings, well here she is!” Chrysalis stepped aside to reveal something that made Twilight’s heart plummet further than she herself had plummeted in the past hour. A green glow emanated from a slimy, translucent cocoon, and within that cocoon was the tiny, limp body of Alya. Her eyes were closed, her frail black legs crossed beneath her chest. There was something horrible to Twilight about seeing Alya like this, even beyond the fact that she was sealed in a disgusting cocoon. She didn’t look asleep or even dead, but she looked…..empty, like a shell that’s waiting to be filled with something sinister. “The metamorphosis will soon be complete,” pronounced Chrysalis triumphantly. “Soon her mind will be completely wiped of all memories of her life among you wretched ponies. She’ll be washed clean of whatever filthy Equestrian magic suppressed her natural changeling instincts. She’ll awaken anew as one of the Hive.” “No….” moaned Twilight. Helplessly she reached out her hoof. She collapsed to the ground. “Please, I can’t let her…” “Wish I could say I was sorry, but I’m not one for apologies,” snickered Chrysalis, spitting to add extra spite. “I wouldn’t worry about ‘Alya’, though. Once she’s fully awake, she’ll know her true strength, and then she’ll consume what pathetic little remains of your essence. Amazing how fast our little ones grow up, isn’t it?” She sniffled sarcastically. “Whatever you’re doing to her, please…..please stop,” coughed Twilight as hot, desperate tears began flowing freely down her cheeks. “It’s my fault, I...I tried to abandon her. She doesn’t deserve this. You can do whatever you want with me, but let Alya go!” Chrysalis cackled wickedly, and a livid green energy suddenly sparked to life on her horn. “Twilight, don’t you see? This is where she wants to be! This is where she was meant to be, among her own kind, feeding on the love of others. A changeling doesn’t need a mother—only raw instinct, and the command of their queen! You’re foolish to think we were meant for anything else!” “But she’s my daughter, I felt her love….or at least Celestia did. Somehow I forgot about it...” Twilight slid into the muck, wishing she could watch Alya skip through the meadow picking wildflowers again, or at least hear her laugh just one more time. The magic from Chrysalis’ horn leapt up into the air and crackled downward to connect with the cocoon. It flashed to life, then began to flash intermittently as Chrysalis filled it with changeling magic. The final stage of the metamorphosis process was almost complete. All throughout the chamber, the thick green haze pulsed in time with the feverish tempo of Chrysalis’ spell. Twilight shut her eyes tightly. The light was unbearable, even managing to pierce through her eyelids. She thought for the third time that night that she was going to pass out. A part of her wanted to do just that, to drift off to sleep and never wake up, and never witness the terrible creature her daughter was being turned into. Another part of her knew she couldn’t. It didn’t take much longer for the nauseating flashes to slow down, and after another minute the spell was finished. Chrysalis stepped back from the cocoon. She stood to the side, waiting for something to happen. The cocoon steamed, glowing with a haunting green light. Twilight also waited, and hoped beyond hopes that her daughter was still in there, and not some mindless changeling drone. It felt like agonizing hours passed while she waited. Suddenly the walls of the cocoon began to bulge and bubble like something was boiling from the inside. Chrysalis stared on with an immensely pleased grin. “Yes! Be reborn, my minion!” “No! Alya!” Twilight cried a moment befor her face was shoved back into the slime by the changeling guard. The guard held her face down so that she couldn’t see what was transpiring. She could only hear the vile glee in the queen’s voice, and despair at it in her heart. “Welcome back to the Hive, my child! Go now, your queen commands you! Go feed on that pathetic waste of life, wallowing in the muck over there!” Twilight heard the tiny hoofsteps approaching her, and tried to cry out Alya’s name, but only foul bubbles spurted out beneath her smothering face. She flailed her hooves, and the other guards pinned her at once. She tried to cast some sort of spell—any spell, even if she teleported herself into solid rock, but her magic was fully suppressed at this depth. Then she became very still. It was over. She wouldn’t even get a last look at Alya’s horrible, beautiful face. Then she heard a tiny, precious voice cry out in pure glee. “Mama! I missed you!” She heard Chrysalis sputter and shriek: “What?! No! You’re mine now, impudent whelp! She’s not your mother and she never was! Obey me and destroy her!" “Mama! Help! She’s mean and scary!” Twilight felt two tiny legs clamp desperately around her sprawling forelegs, and something clicked inside her heart. Many things happened to Twilight at once which seemed to all be happening in slow motion. The first thing that happened was she calmly stood up, and was surprised by how casually and effortlessly the changeling guards were flung away from her, screaming and spiraling through the air like grotesque, lazy snowflakes. The second thing—and this one lasted the longest—was that she looked down to her tiny, quivering daughter latched around her forelegs. The two locked eyes for the first time since Twilight had blacked out earlier that night. She saw the same fear in Alya’s deep turquoise eyes that she had seen when she and Celestia first met her at the Welcome Heart’s Orphanage. She depended on Twilight to protect her from that fear now. What happened next was she noticed that the ceiling and walls stirred to life with thousands of eyes and furious chittering wings. They all seemed to be converging on she and Alya, blocking the tunnel in the ceiling which led to the exit. Then she noticed that Chrysalis was actually leaping at her with a horrifying expression branded on her face, and Twilight imagined if she were in a lesser state of mind, she might have fainted at the mere sight of it. There were strands of green spit dangling from the queen’s bared fangs, and the snarl which sliced her cheeks looked torn between wanting to rip out Twilight’s throat and withdrawn in defensive terror. Her venomous glare bespoke much the same. All these things happened in roughly the span of five seconds, but to Twilight they seemed to be passing outside of time and into a completely separate realm, where she and her daughter were the only two beings in it. As the world began to crash in upon them, Twilight moved into action, but did so lightly as a waiter does when toting trays through a restaurant. She glided easily through the encroaching changeling swarm in an almost transcendent way. Entire clusters of the vile creatures seemed to be shoved aside by her presence alone. A vicious bolt of green lightning shot from Chrysalis horn; Twilight covered Alya’s head and casually ducked aside as it shot harmlessly over her shoulder. She suddenly realized that she was running on all fours again. She couldn’t even feel her right leg anymore, or any of her other limbs for that matter. They had, in a certain sense, become part of the air. And now she was flying with Alya tucked safely between her hooves. She wasn’t sure quite how or when she’d gotten into the air, but the floor of the hive chamber was growing more distant by the second. She could hardly make out the little green blobs any more as the angry changeling swarm engulfed her view. Her wings were beating, but she didn’t feel them or the wind beneath them. She had no real sensation beyond the feeling of being lifted upwards, and now the vertical shaft was changing. As she rose, the walls looked more greasy-black rather than sickly green. She ducked past huge globs of tar which fell down into the advancing mass of changelings, scattering some, only for fifty more to replace them. Twilight could sense the air around her trembling with the angry buzzing of their wings. She shot out of the hive, and rocketed straight through the toxic cloud layer. The changeling swarm followed close behind. Twilight held Alya tighter as they burst through the clouds. Warm morning light spilled over her. It was a good warmth, and she was quite ready to fall asleep with it draping over her, but her job wasn’t over yet. One thought stood out above all the others: that her daughter was going to be safe with her, no matter what. With that thought held firmly in her mind, she climbed higher and higher, out of the canyon and up into the sky. She flew out towards the horizon, where the morning sun was cresting over the craggy mountain peaks. The changelings, hissing and screeching in the sunlight, did not let up their pursuit, and flew after her without a moment’s pause. Then suddenly, after her tremendous and seemingly effortless flight from the hive, an overwhelming weariness overtook her, and she began to fall. “No, no, not now!” she thought, trying to command her wings to work. “Please, just a little further….” No matter how hard she strained, how deeply she implored, her wings would not do what she wanted. It was as though they’d run out of fuel mid-flight, having spent it all just to get away from the changelings. But the changelings hadn’t given up, quite contrarily they seemed ready to pursue Twilight to the ends of Equestria. “Mama!” screamed Alya, “Th-they’re coming! Hurry, mama!” Twilight dug deeper inside herself than she had yet dug, and found nothing left. What she had had already gotten them this far, but it wasn’t going to be enough. Already the changelings swarmed around them menacingly. Alya began to cry, and Twilight did what she knew she must do then. “Shhh, everything’s going to be alright,” she whispered softly, hugging her daughter close to her. “Your mama’s here for you now, and nopony is going to hurt you.” As she fell from the sky, the world darkened around her. She heard the changelings screech. She heard Alya’s cry. She saw the sun explode and a heavenly light dissolve everything else from sight. Then Twilight slept the most wonderful sleep she’d had in more than a month.