Secrets of the Everfree

by PaisleyPerson

Chapter 66: Have Fun Storming the Castle

Chapter 66
Have Fun Storming the Castle

“Where do you think we are?” Pound Cake hissed.

“It’s a... closet. Glitter must have landed us inside the castle,” Charcoal grunted back as a mop fell over and conked him in the head. Indeed, the pair found themselves in a very dark, cramped room.

“How’d she even know this was here? Don’t tell me it was an accident- she needed good aim to put us right in the middle of a tiny closet, which also happens to be a very inconspicuous hiding spot.”

“I think it’s a bit cliché, actually,” Charcoal shrugged, righting the mop. “Hiding in a janitor’s closet... not very original.”

“But effective,” Pound pointed out, trying to climb over Charcoal to get to the door.

“As for how she knew about it,” Charcoal went on, pressed against the wall to allow him more room, “my guess is she remembered it the last time she came to Essence’s palace. She and Trixie have performed here several times before. Essence loves the new combination of magic and fire dancing. I wouldn’t doubt they’ve toured the palace or even stayed here before.”

“They’ve stayed over at Essence’s palace?” Pound disbelievingly and perhaps enviously looked to Charcoal, which was no small feat in the pitch-black room.

“You’ve slept over in Twilight’s castle,” Charcoal reminded. Pound eventually nodded agreement.

“Touché.” Finally reaching a mutual agreement to fall silent, Pound cracked open the door and the two peered out. Changelings were all filing past the door in a very unifom, orderly manner, the flow of traffic systematically splitting off every which way.

“Well, we’re in the castle, alright,” Charcoal determined.

“How are we supposed to get past all these changelings? Where are they all even coming from?” Charcoal dared crack the door open a little wider to expand his range of vision. There seemed to be a large window on the other side of the room that lead outside. Luckily, it was accompanied by even larger drapes.

“I can send you over to that window. See if you can spot anything. Stay behind the curtains and I think you should be okay,” Charcoal said. Pound nodded affirmation.

“Got it.” Pound stood stock still as his friend locked onto him with the magical fire and began to focus on the folds behind the curtain. There was a slight ripple beneath the fabric as Pound materialized beneath. His hooves poking out at the bottom served as evidence that he had arrived, but even they vanished as he clambered to the safety of the windowsill and produced a tsunami of waves traveling though the sheet.

Charcoal held his breath, praying that no one had noticed the swaying curtain. The movement did attract the attention of one changeling, but luckily, the material was so heavy that it didn’t take long to resettle. Seeing nothing of consequence, the drone dismissed it with a shrug. He quietly heaved a sigh of relief and pulled the door back another inch.

Charcoal quietly, patiently watched, waiting from some sort of signal from Pound. But none came. He longed to call out and ask what was going on, but that wasn’t possible without alerting every changeling in the palace. Every second felt like an hour, and his breath was becoming ragged with panic. ‘What’s going on over there, Pound?’ Charcoal’s breath caught in his throat until he worked out whether the voice had actually been audible or just in his head.

At long last, Pound poked his head around the curtain, pupils constricted pinpricks. Not even thinking of the changelings about him, he began wildly gesturing for Charcoal to join him. Thank Celestia the window protruded away from the hallway!

Charcoal’s door creaked a little wider, and he shook his head to remind Pound that he could not, in fact, join him by the window. Pound wasn’t deterred, and continued to wave for him, even more animatedly, with both arms this time.

“Come here,” Pound mouthed, trying to get the message across.

“No,” Charcoal mouthed back. Now Charcoal chose to remind him of the sea of changelings blocking his way. Next, Pound Cake performed some sort of dance, the meaning behind which Charcoal couldn’t even hope to guess.

The game of charades lasted a good few minutes, completely unnoticed by the drones. Well, the latter wasn’t entirely true. Quite amused by the display and overconfident in their immediate numbers, one drone halted traffic so that he and his comrades could witness the comical spectacle. It was a good minute after traffic had stopped at both ends of the hall did the intruders realize they had an audience.

Charcoal and Pound both froze in unison, realizing at the same instant that there were no more changelings obscuring the hallway. Slowly, their heads pivoted in opposite directions, each taking in the changelings at one end of the hallway. One particularly cocky drone even had the audacity to wave at them. Both boys gulped.

The changeling hissed to its comrades in a war cry, leading the charge. Now Charcoal finally accepted Pound’s invitation to the window.

“What took you so long?” Pound sarcastically hissed, now desperately banging on the thick glass. The powerful hooves that earned him a career in demolition were paying off now.

“Gee, guess I lost track of time,” Charcoal shot back in an equally satirical tone, power surging through his hooves. Fire blasted out in a wide semi-circle to hold off the changelings and buy Pound some time as he bashed the window. He didn’t need long. The windows blew out with an earth-shattering crack, and Charcoal and Pound were left to hover out in open air. The whole world stood still. The entire Everfree must have heard that. If Chrysalis hadn’t been alerted of their presence before, she surely did now. The changeling queen was, in fact, standing on a balcony below them.

Charcoal finally took in the sight Pound had been urging him to see. Hundreds and hundreds of prison wagons were all laid out in the palace courtyard alone, containing thousands and thousands of prisoners. His breath caught in his throat. Almost instinctively, his gaze was attracted to his Aunt Wild Flower and Uncle Cedar. They sadly peered up at him through the bars of the wagon’s cell. It wasn’t the sadness that got him so much as the disappointment. They never wanted to see him here. He let them down.

“Mom! Dad!”

“Pound Cake!” Pumpkin Cake cried, attention drawn to the prison the couple shared with their daughter and another colt. Pound blindly began to dive for his family, but they had forgotten about the changelings behind them, and were instantly reprimanded, hooves twisted behind their backs with barely any room for their wings to keep them airborne, especially in Charcoal’s case.

Chrysalis smiled wickedly up at her prisoners. Charcoal feared the worst.

“Bring them here,” she demanded orally, more for show of her prisoners than actual need. The changelings, on the other hoof, delivered the colts wordlessly, possibly acknowledging the order through the hive mind.

Both boys were unceremoniously dumped at the queen’s hooves, both almost completely encased in the vile goo as a precaution. Though Charcoal was uncomfortable, he knew evaporating the goop was futile, and opted to remain where he was. The queen regally stood over them, her sickeningly sweet smile more threatening than her insectoid appearance.

“What naughty boys,” she loudly cooed. “Haven’t your parents taught you that it’s rude to spy?”

“Didn’t your parents teach you it’s rude to attack defenseless ponies?” Pound shot back, struggling against the sticky green substance.

“You know that’s called invasion of privacy, not to mention breaking and entering?”

“You know that’s called ponynapping, not to mention theft, vandalism, treason... the list goes on and... mmph!” Pound wriggled even more vigorously as another glob of goo splatted over his mouth, serving as an effective gag.

“Oh, children,” Chrysalis exasperatedly groaned. She then kneeled right down into Pound Cake’s space. “I hate children,” she spat, possibly landing spittle on his face, though he was helpless to wipe it off. The queen righted herself again and continued to glare down at the two, finding special interest in Charcoal.

“So what’s the plan here, Chrysalis?” Charcoal chose to make wise use of both his time and freedom of speech. “You’re going to take over Equestria again? You know, I hear that didn’t work out too well for you last time.”

“Have you, now?” Chrysalis’ gaze pierced him like daggers, and Charcoal decided that he needed to make his questions less insulting unless he wanted a muzzle to match Pound’s.

“I’m just saying that you wouldn’t be so stupid as to make the same mistake twice,” he coolly corrected.

“Hmph. Smart boy. Acrylic raised you well.”

“Speaking of Mom, I don’t suppose you’ve seen her?”

“Oh, I’ve seen her alright,” Chrysalis cackled with an eerie echo to her voice. “The question you should be asking is, ‘can you see her’?”

“Can I?” Charcoal echoed, hope flickering in his voice.

“Manners, colt,” Chrysalis barked.

“May I?” he corrected, choosing not to point out that she hadn’t said it either.

“Well, if you really want to see your parents, I suppose a meeting could be arranged,” she slyly smiled. ‘If only he knew what he was getting into. He’s literally asking to join them!’

“What’s the catch?” Charcoal narrowed his eyes.

“No catch,” she sweetly sang. “Never let it be said that I deprived a mother of her child.” Many angry shouts rang out through the crowd at the sheer ridiculousness of this statement. Chrysalis looked out at her prisoners and frowned. “SILENCE!” Immediately, you could hear a pin drop.

“Mmph! Mmph!” Pound grunted. Charcoal interpreted his message.

“What about Pound Cake? He wants to see his family, too.”

“Well, if that’s what he really wants,” Chrysalis chuckled.

“TOPAZ, WHAT IS THIS?!”

“Kindling, dear,” Chrysalis smiled as the enraged, fiery destral barged through the doorway, an obviously humbled and frightened drone slinking after him. Charcoal gasped, and attempted to shrink back in his partial cocoon. Essence wasn’t the only destral after all!

“Intruders? And you didn’t think to inform me?” he angrily seethed.

“Who’s this?” Charcoal tried not to sound as scared as he felt.

“Why, my fiancé, Kindling Pyre, of course.”

“YOU USELESS OAF!” Kindling came very close to striking Chrysalis. “YOU DON’T ANSWER THEIR QUESTIONS! THEY ANSWER OURS!”

“I’m sure he’ll make a great husband.” Charcoal knew he’d regret the remark, and flinched as the orange destral turned on him. Charcoal wasn’t sure if he was getting ready to plant a blow or just getting very animated, but Kindling paused with his hoof mid-air.

“You,” he slowly processed, gently setting his hoof back down. “You are the son of Acrylic, Element of Forgiveness?” Charcoal looked to Pound for a moment, who had become so sticky with goo it would have been hard to give any sort of response.

“I am,” he boldly replied at last. Kindling coldly turned back to Chrysalis.

“And you were to save this one for me,” he snapped.

“Why, I was, dearest,” she humbly assured, still wracked from his recent tantrum.

“Fink assured me that he detected a genuine promise to return him to his mother.”

“Fink? You... you named the drone?” Chrysalis looked both confused and horrified, glancing at Kindling’s shivering informant. Unlike all her other drones, who shared her blue and green shell, Kindling had even transformed this one to carry his red and orange colors, marking him as Kindling’s personal assistant. Usually a name was quite the topic of discussion in the hive mind, yet somehow, this had all gone over Chrysalis’ head. She must start paying better attention to the happenings of her subjects!

“I needed something to call the beastie,” Kindling rolled his eyes with a huff. “They all respond to ‘Drone’.”

“Looks like names are a growing trend. I’m sure you heard about Shift?”

“Very well... Fink, was correct,” she began, choosing to ignore Charcoal’s comment. “I was going to bring Charcoal to his parents. Not as though it could have done any harm.”

“COULDN’T DO ANY HARM?! To retrieve the boy, we would first have to unlock the entire orb! Do you realize just how dangerous it could be to release the Elements of Harmony, even for an instant? It could jeopardize everything we have worked for!” Charcoal attempted to make sense of anything he just heard, but received only a headache for his efforts.

“I’m sorry, Kindling.” Chrysalis kept her head bowed, and eyes trained downward. Char couldn’t believe his eyes. Chrysalis was afraid of him!

“Just complete the conversion,” he growled, removing the goo from Charcoal himself.

“Conversion? What’s that mean?” As promised, no one answered Charcoal this time.

“What of the other boy?” she quietly inquired, not wishing to cross him a second time. Kindling briefly considered the cream coated colt through narrowed eyes.

“What do I care? Put him back with his family, for all I care.”

“As you wish, dearest.” Two changelings released Pound from his sticky binds and carelessly tossed him at the cage containing his family. The three Cakes pressed close to the bars, all trying to climb over each other and reach Pound. Pumpkin finally succeeded in squeezing a hoof through the bars to touch his outstretched one. Mrs. Cake babbled about how worried she’d been while his father scolded him for putting himself in danger.

Chrysalis slowly strode to the edge of the balcony with what dignity she had left. Charcoal struggled against the telekinetic grip of his destral oppressor to see what was going on, but the only reason he actually lingered was because Kindling allowed it. In fact, he wanted the colt to witness what was about to take place. He held Charcoal high above the platform in his levitational magic so that would be sure to get a good view. Charcoal noted that Chrysalis was charging her horn for an incredibly powerful, widespread spell.

“PONIES OF EQUESTRIA!” she boomed, the entire courtyard cowering before her. “JUST AS I HAVE BEEN DENIED LOVE, SO SHALL YOU! NOW, YOU ALL BELONG TO ME!” Her spell exploded from the confinement of her horn with a boom that shook the entire castle. It washed over the prisoners in a fiery green shockwave. Charcoal could only watch in horror as the fire left cages of newly transformed changelings in its wake. Cries of distress, sickness, outrage and horror erupted through the courtyards. Many clutched their heads as the chorus of the hive mind for the first time.

Chrysalis grunted in irritation. Another spell was beginning to well up in her horn.

“SILENCE! You foals! You will serve ME!” Another, less powerful magical surge pulsed from her horn, and instantly, the crowd hushed. One by one, they all bowed to their queen.

“Pound?” Charcoal pleaded. The changeling that had once been his best friend now stared back through lifeless eyes.

Charcoal’s stomach churned. He wanted to vomit. He could barely recognize the face of his mutilated aunt, his marred friend. Blackened and fearful, hair reduced to stringy fins, wings shriveled to paper thin, see-through membranes, they barely retained any of the unique features he thought he knew so well. Worst of all, was that their cutie marks had all burned away in the transformation. They had lost their individuality. Their freedom. Charcoal had promised to save them. He had failed.

Charcoal fell from the air as Kindling released his hold.

“Hmm,” he almost triumphantly huffed as the colt lay shaking in a crumpled, broken heap, emotionally and physically defeated by the massacre he had just witnessed. He would pose no more of a threat.

“Fink,” he barked. The red-shelled changeling trembled in the fiery destral’s shadow.

“Y-yes, master?” it pitifully hissed.

“Bring our guest to my tower,” Kindling ordered.

“A-as you w-wish, master.” The changeling shivered at the mere thought of having to return to that awful tower, let alone leaving the young colt in that horrid room. But if he didn’t, Fink himself would end up like those poor, poor creatures.

Listen to him. The short time he had been disconnected from the hive combined with Kindling Pyre’s sheer cruelty were actually bringing out his emotions. Chrysalis would not be pleased if she knew.

Fink had little choice but to obey his new master, and slunk forth to retrieve the colt. Satisfied, Kindling began to head inside himself. Fink had gotten about as far as looping his hole-punched hoof through Charcoal’s elbow when the physical contact sparked something inside him. Charcoal jerked rather violently out of his stupor.

“No. NO!” He shook his head to clear it, already rearing up, hooves tinged in thestral fire. Kindling’s gaze snapped back, realizing he had underestimated the colt.

“NO!” Kindling roared, likewise rearing with flaming hooves. “FINK!” It was not a warning but a demand. Fink gulped, realizing what his master wanted. He shut his eyes, and grabbed on to Charcoal at the last second. In a flash of fire, both Charcoal and Fink were gone.

“GRAAAAAAAH!” Kindling sounded more like an animal than a pony as he came down on the floor, sending a massive crack tearing up the castle floor. At least he had planted a mole. He glared back to Chrysalis.

“Find him,” he seethed. “And give me a new drone.”