Those Who Walk Among Us (Twilight) Part 3
No matter how good the disguise, changelings are and always will be different than us. They may think their masks let them play the perfect part, but no act is flawless.
Whether they replace a pony or make their own persona, they take on roles as family, friends, and loved ones. Their needs as emotivores require they be ponies who are a fundamental aspect of our lives, and—no matter how many times they beat the odds—in the end we will always notice the difference between a pony and a changeling if there is no sincerity behind the mask.
It may take days, weeks, months, or even years, but the odds stack up more and more against them as time goes on.
No act is perfect, and I don’t know if there’s a pony alive that isn’t concerned when they see something subtly wrong with a pony they know so well. They wonder what is different, or what their friend is hiding, or why their friend is hiding it, or any number of other questions.
“And you’re sure we’re not overdressed?” I asked, ruffling my wings as much as I dared.
I had chosen an old gala dress for this meeting. It was a deep and dusky purple smattered with silver flecks—‘like the gloomy twilight of a night upon us’ were Rarity’s words. It was a bit dark and wispy for my tastes, but that was supposedly the point. A silver torque held the only real bit of color in a semi-circular fire ruby so old that it was an explosion of various shades of red and orange – ‘a setting sun promising a better tomorrow.’
“Maybe?” The prince snorted. The bowler was currently tilted to hide more of his face. “The truth is ve don’t know. This ‘grandpa’ of Lyra’s could be anyling, and he could be in charge of any number of rogues. It’s better to be cautious.”
My pacing picked up in speed. “And you’re sure it’s Lyra and not Bon Bon this time? I don’t want this to become a guessing game. Ponies are going to be hurt if this becomes a wild goose chase.”
He shrugged. “Ve’re as sure as ve can be, but there’s always a chance ve’re wrong or that ve don’t have all the information.”
I turned mid-step towards him, a low growl rising in my throat. “How can you be so calm about this?!”
He shrugged again, straightening the hat so I could see the glassy eyes. “Emotion filter. It’s not particularly healthy, but if we both sat here and panicked then our individual fears would just feed off each other. Ve figured it’d be best to let you vent rather than contributing to things and whipping us both into a frenzy of—” A small knocking at the door interrupted him, and he stepped into the shadows as I bolted to get the door open.
“Hi, guys!” I could feel the unnatural stretch to my grin.
Lyra’s lazy smile was as carefree as ever, and she reached out a hoof to pinch my cheeks, chuckling. “Oh, that’s so cute. She thinks she can hide her real feelings from us. Chill, Twilight. We’re the same ponies you always knew.”
Bopping my nose as she withdrew, she gave a tinkling laugh. “Except for Gramps, who is old enough that you probably know more about him than he himself does.”
That was Lyra alright, although now I knew exactly why she always read me like a book. Tilting my head I looked to the cloaked pony behind her, assuming this to be her grandfather.
“And you are?”
“I-It’s me, Twilight.” Bon Bon drew back her hood. “I didn’t realize this was going to be so formal….”
“Relax, Sweetie Dee! We’ll just go with the flow.”
Bon Bon groaned at her pet name but returned Lyra’s nuzzle. “How many times have I told you not to call me that in front of anypony?”
Lyra fluttered her lashes innocently. “Absolutely zero. Calling you Sweetie Dee is completely different than using your real name of Sweetie—“
Bon Bon stuffed a hoof in Lyra’s muzzle. “So help me, Gramps, if you don’t get her under control I’m cutting your honey rations in half for a month. You promised you’d make sure we made a good impression.”
The small tinkling of bells froze me in my tracks as a deep voice hummed behind me. “We are making a good impression Sweetie Drops. Lyra’s far better at breaking the ice than either of us, so ve see no need to stop her.”
Slowly I turned to see who snuck past me, and I saw the last pony I ever expected to see. “Sta-st-st-st-sta-sta…”
Luxuriously bushy eyebrows furrowed while a lush and flowing white beard was forced into a frown. “See, Lyra? I told you I should have come as one of the Third Eyes to ease her in.”
I blinked. “Sta-st-st-st-sta-sta…”
“This is the fun part though!” A green blotch blocked my vision of perfection, daring to cut into the view of a velvet cape as soft as the night sky.
“Sta-st-st-st-sta-sta…” I told the green blotch.
“And I told you this guise doesn’t count. I never even spoke a word when it was my turn to wear this. I cannot and never will be able to pull off a passable Star Swirl.” The bells jingled as he moved!
“Sta-st-st-st-sta-Star Swirl the Bearded!” I squeed, causing something to crack in the distance.
My hero winced in what clearly wasn’t pain. Perfection would never be able to feel pain.
“Now that? That’s a passable Star Swirl imitation. Falling head over heels for anything of an intellectual nature? Check. Ability to shriek into frequencies above pony hearing? Check. That clueless naivety that comes from being a professional scholar? Check. Senilely doddering her way through any number of dangerous situations? Can’t check that, but I’d argue the fact that she’s actually competent is an upside rather than a downside.”
I tittered. “Oh, Star Swirl. You’re so humble. You could never dodder when you don’t look a day over forty.”
The greatest unicorn of all time chuckled in a deep rumbling bass, and I couldn’t help but blush.
“Twilight…”
I swooned at being addressed by the idol I never thought I’d meet.
“As much as I love the attention, do I really need to remind you that you’re talking to a changeling? I know you’ve always been enamored with history, but I didn’t know your hero worship got that bad. Besides, I’m not the real Star Swirl. More like a stunt double really.”
I came crashing back to reality to find myself subject to a lot of stares. If I had been blushing before, that was nothing compared to now as my face tried to self-combust in shame.
“I knew that….” I mumbled.
I didn’t. Morpheus said Lyra said her grandfather was living history! A stunt-double wasn’t history! And what does that even mean?! They didn’t have stunt doubles back in Star Swirl’s time!
The chuckling from ‘my hero’ was soon joined with Lyra’s melodic laugh as she slowly clopped a hoof on the ground. “Bravissimo, Twilight. Your reaction far exceeded my expectations. If you’d told me you liked the classics more than thumping wubs, I would have tried to set you up with ‘private tutoring sessions’ with our professors rather than taking you clubbing myself.”
“The wubs were a date?!” I squeaked. “I— I thought mom and dad were kidding when they took those photos.” My face scrunched as I tried to catch up to the situation. There was too much jumble to even panic. Small talk became my godsend, letting me organize my thoughts.
The lyrist waved a hoof airily. “You’re only realizing that now? What did you expect? We were teenagers, and you were a smoldering hot piece of flank.”
I meeped unintelligibly at that.
She just smiled and winked, continuing without missing a beat. “You have no idea how much I tried to get you to socialize before you moved out here. Gramps told me you’d figure it out on your own eventually, but I didn’t think he meant you’d procrastinate all the way to P-Day.”
“P-Day?” I inquired, still sorting my thoughts via my pre-approved mental checklist. “I don’t think I’ve heard you use that one before.”
“P-Day!” Lyra exclaimed. “You know, Princess-Day: the day we got the Moony Maiden back and you started your path to becoming Glitter Flanks–”
“I told you not to call me that!” I sputtered. My process skipped a step, and I hastily went backwards to avoid thinking on that deplorable name.
“Why not?” Lyra giggled. “I have to give you a butt themed nickname like every other princess. It cuts the royal tension! Hay, Celestia still falls on the floor laughing when I call her Sunny Side Rump.” She hummed. “Actually, if anypony has a right to complain it’s Cadance. Amorous Assteroid was not my best work, but it’s really hard to work with a crystal heart, and—”
“Lyra, can we please get back to the point?” I was straining not to succumb to embarrassment again.
“Point?” she paused. “Oh, right! P-day! Yeah. It’s the day Nightmare Moon came back and you earned the Element of Magic. All it took was one day out of Canterlot to make some friends, something I failed to get you to do for years.”
Done! Pulling my hoof to my chest, I took a deep breathe. Exhaling I pushed the last of my worries away. As an afterthought, I updated my Lyrish to Equish dictionary. I hadn’t ever heard her use P-day before, after all.
Then I blinked as her final sentence actually sunk in.
“Lyra….” The warning in both of her companions’ voices was clear.
“What?” Lyra rolled her eyes. “I’m just saying she cut things awfully close. Any longer and Nightmare Moon might have actually done some damage.”
I looked between them all, eyes narrowing slightly. “That almost makes it sound like you knew Nightmare Moon was coming back before I did, but that isn’t the case, right? My good friend Lyra, changeling or not, would have told somepony if they knew something so monumentally important, right?”
‘Star Swirl’ glared at Lyra. She simply smiled back.
Sighing the stallion turned and began walking further into Castle. “If ve’re going to tell you three the tale of my little hive, we may as well do it properly. Where’s the library? Can’t have a proper story time without the right atmosphere.”
“Wait.” I blinked as he trundled off. “What do you mean by three of us?” I reached out a hoof as if to stop him, but he had already sauntered off like he owned the place.
“Umm… He meant me Twilight.” Bon Bon poked idly at the ground. “I’ve been waiting since Lyra proposed to hear the whole story. I know bits and pieces, but I’ve never gotten the whole thing before.”
Lights began strobing as Castle pulled a Pinkie Pie. Confetti began to rain down, and a banner unfurled from nowhere saying, “Congratulations! It’s about time, you two!”
It took me a second to processher words in the strobing lights, but as soon as I did I was prancing in circles. “Lyra proposed?! Why didn’t you tell any of us?! I mean, I’m no Rarity, but even I saw that the chemistry between you two would go all the way. When? Where? How?!”
Shaking my head, I tried not to shout to the heavens in Celestia’s ‘Jubilant Jupiter’ voice. Sure, I might mostly hate the matchmaking process—especially when everypony insists on finding me a special somepony—but I just love it when things work out. Awkward first dates, that embarrassingly over-affectionate ‘new couple’ phase, and inevitable break-ups just aren’t my thing.
Lyra and Bon Bon were not me and Flash, though.
“Oh, my friends are getting married! Rarity’s going to want all the details, and Applejack and Dash will probably fight over who gets the honor of being your best mare—even though I’m pretty sure you’ll pick Minuette or Twinkleshine. Pinkie Pie’s probably already planned the reception, and Fluttershy told me she has the best gift ever planned for you. Speaking of plans though, what are yours? Do you need me to organize things? Oh! Maybe I can officiate like Celestia did for my brother and Cadance! Do I need a license for that, or is it part of being a princess? I’ll have to check my law—”
“She proposed after Cranky’s wedding!” Bon Bon’s response cut into mine as she ducked behind her mane. It was far less suited to hiding behind than Fluttershy’s.
“—books….” I petered out mid-step. My thoughts lurched to a halt like a record scratch. “That was ages ago. How long have you been knowingly harboring a changeling?”
“Since Cranky’s wedding!” Lyra wrapped a hoof around her quailing marefriend— No. Fiancée. “It was only fair to propose and tell her about my double life as a changeling after she finally found the courage to tell me about her double life as a spy!”
She leaned over to nuzzle her companion. “Let me tell you. It made both our jobs of secretly guarding you way easier when we didn’t have to hide it from each other.”
“What?!” My head was spinning.
After another nuzzle, Lyra opened her mouth to respond, but a choked gasp brought our attention to Morpheus as he unceremoniously fell out of the shadows clutching his chest.
“Gah!” He spoke in great heaving breaths. “Too much! How in the name of the First Father does it go both ways?!”
Amber eyes narrowed. “Dude! Were you nibbling on Sweetie Dee?!”
There were a couple hacking coughs. “What do you take me for, my mother? I was taking a taste, nothing more. Then, your side of the equation hit me like a train. You shouldn’t be able to feel that way. It’s been over a thousand years—”
Lyra scoffed, thwacking the fallen changeling’s head. “A thousand years for your Hive, little prince. Do you even try and think outside the Hivemind? I told you my family’s been here forever. We’ve had plenty of time to heal while you guys just sit and stagnate.”
Morpheus began to rise. “But—”
“But nothing!” Lyra stomped a hoof. “I gave you my word, but clearly that isn’t good enough. I love Bon Bon. You need proof?! Here’s your proof!”
Amber—not green—flames consumed my friend, leaving a changeling in her place. Her chitin was still a series of black, interlocking, plates. Holes still dotted the hooves. Wings still fluttered and buzzed. Yet, there were countless subtle differences.
For starters, there was her amber magic and similarly amber eyes. Her third eyelids—I deemed haw to be a better term than nictitating membrane, given the chitin—were much more in synch with the primary ones, and they shuttered open and closed over their more organic counterparts with every blink. Her mane and tail were a lighter teal than other changelings’ and streaked with white—like her pony mane. For some reason I could suddenly smell lilies: not that correlation guaranteed causation, but I wasn’t sure what else could have been the source of the wonderful scent assaulting my nostrils.
“You’ve gone through your third chrysalling?” Morpheus half-sobbed, half-laughed. He moved forward, circling around Lyra and muttering to himself in a low voice.
Lyra was smirking confidently as he inspected her. Unfortunately, I was too busy trying to unscramble my brain and get a handle on things to get in on the free study time.
“Like what you see~” she teased him.
“Fascinating….” The prince’s voice became clearer. I don’t think he realized he was starting to sing. “To think I thought I’d never see this~ One step away from harmony~ A complete specimen to study~”
Then the questions came in a torrent of song. “Why are you blinking your haw so much?~ No harvester would do that~ Is it cultural?~ Or biological?~ And what about your horn?~”
“Her horn?~” I sang as I inexplicably danced.
“My horn?~” Lyra laughed getting into the groove.
“Your horn!~” sang the prince with exuberance, “It’s missing a joint!~ It’s non-collapsable!~ A clear sign of your self-image~”
He moved around to Lyra’s side, buzzing his exposed wings. “And the wing cases!~ Oh, the wing cases!~ How do they fit?~ How do they feel?~ What’s it like as a Dynastinae?~”
“Enough!” I shouted, desperate for some control of the situation. This time, there was an actual record scratch as the music I hadn’t even been aware of screeched to a halt. The song’s flow had fractured, and Morpheus suddenly blushed through an implosion of different shades of green—collapsing inward like he had at Rarity’s.
“Stupid curse….” The lump of chitin continued to shrink. “I can’t believe I just did that….”
Lyra patted the small pile of chitin. “Don’t worry about it, champ. Everypony has times where they just wanna let loose and sing.”
“You are not helping here!”
Shrugging, Lyra picked Morpheus up and tossed him my way. “Well, if you’re gonna be like that, we’ll be in the library with gramps.”
I caught him as Lyra departed, dragging a hesitant Bon Bon along. Staring after them, eye twitching, my voice cracked.
“Morpheus?”
“Yes?”
My grip tightened ever-so-slightly. “I am going to ask you three— No, four. I’m going to ask you four questions, and you are going to answer them right now.”
Not bothering to wait for confirmation, I continued, “First, when did we lose control of the situation?” Deep breaths. I needed to take deep breaths right now.
A couple whistles and clicks came from his huddled mass. “If you’re referring to this particular incident, ve’d guess it started around the time you opened the door. If you’re talking about negotiations in general, both of us lost control somewhere around your friends finding me. By this point, I’m not sure why ve’re bothering to plan things anymore.”
“Second, what the hay was that?” I set him down on the ground as I realized my grip was getting shaky.
A rattling sound flowed out from him as he took a second to stretch and crack every joint in his body, expanding back to full size. “That… that was the curse.”
“But that—” I started.
“—affected you?” he finished. “The data seems to suggest the spell isn’t limited to us. Applejack and Zecora also sang a little.” He sighed. “The singing itself isn’t the issue though, and neither is the mild form of mind-controlled dancing. The issue is how both accentuate things. Emotions run higher. Lips run looser. Fleeting thoughts become reality.”
He snorted. “It was completely improper of me to buzz around her like that—curiosity or not.”
I began walking towards the library. “Third, how much of an issue is that going to be?”
He thrummed, wings occasionally chirping out a tune as he followed me. “Ve can’t say for sure…. It doesn’t seem to be malignant, but curses are known to subvert expectations.”
The holes in his hooves clenched open and closed as we walked. The clip-clopping and click-clacking made it sound as if we were a whole group of ponies trotting along. “If the price was just performing a song and dance, ve’d be done already. There has to be a certain unknown criterion that specifies what ve need to sing. Ve could hazard some guesses as to what they are, but there’s a chance that any inference ve make will make things harder for us in the long run. After all, the most likely criterion is that it needs to be ‘a song from the heart’ or some other sentiment that’s equally vague.”
I shook my head. “I’m starting to see why you hate Malpractitioners. Zecora’s one of my best friends, but what was she thinking? There are catastrophic risks involved with open-ended magic like that.”
He shrugged. “It’s not open-ended to her. In fact, it’s probably incredibly heavily defined in a way that makes it seem extra vague. That’s what Malpractitioners do.”
Groaning, I moved on. “Whatever. I’ll just have to try to treat it like I treat Pinkie.”
“That is probably wise,” he agreed.
We passed what should have been the library—the one room I always found without fail—to see a swimming pool. I idly wondered if it was the same one Dash commented on the other day, but took it in stride since it let me continue to talk to Morpheus. I was starting to understand Castle well enough to figure he probably wanted me to cool off.
Probably.
For all I knew, he purposely let me get lost by rearranging rooms.
I continued on, however, expecting to find the library when we needed it. “Last question then.” I arched an eyebrow at him. “What’s this chrysalling you were talking about?”
He stopped for a second, eyes going glassy. His head tilted to the side, the scritch-scratch of his plates ticking like a clock. “I didn’t tell you about the chrysallings? Why on Equis would I skip—” Hoof met face. “Oh, right. As a major part of our growth, I would have had to explain the birds and the bees first. I can’t not tell you about the chrysallings, though…. Barring the birds and bees, it marks the most defining points of our lives. It’s basically our version of cutie marks.”
He was silent a moment before finally nodding. “Alright. I really didn’t want to give you The Talk, but ve suppose sacrifices must be made.”
We walked. He lectured.
“You’ve heard me refer to the various castes a few times, but there’s much more to what determines a changeling’s role in the hive. A pony earns their cutie mark by realizing their passion and then taking that passion to the next level with training. Changelings, however, go through stages of... metamorphosis is the closest pony term, I believe.”
He thrummed a while before continuing. In the quiet contemplation, I summoned my notebooks from the library to make notes.
“The reason I—and most other changelings—actively avoid the subject of the birds and the bees is because of the first iteration of our metamorphosis: the zeroth chrysalling.”
I opened my mouth to comment, but he cut me off before I could say anything.
“It’s specifically known as the zeroth as it occurs right in the egg.”
He looked at me with furrowed brows. His face seemed to melt, becoming generic and bland like one of Rarity’s mannequines. The third eyelid clicked closed, adding to the faux appearance. If I didn’t know any better, I might have compared him to one of those creepy porcelain dolls with the glass eyes that stare into your soul.
His voice was hollow and empty—the echo lacking life.
“Most changeling eggs are blank templates. If left on their own, the larvae that emerge are usually more akin to the feral things we evolved from.”
Slowly, his features returned like a sculpture being carved. We had stopped at some point, and I was simply listening as intently as I could—several quills writing into a number of notebooks to catch the thoughts going too fast for me to reflect on now.
As his furrowed brows reformed, he continued on in his normal voice. “This is where breeders’ main responsibility comes in. Any changeling can lay an egg, but the breeders are in charge of unlocking each egg’s potential. During incubation, they use their magic to weave together the strands of what makes us us—borrowing a little here and there from the existing sample of changelings—to make a brand new changeling.”
A small smile replaced his frown. “Larvae that emerge from those eggs almost immediately enter the first chrysalling. It’s here they develop a spark of sapience and individuality as their connection to the Hivemind is formed. The Hive itself gives them a semi-random imprint of the personalities already stored in the collective—alive or dead—so that the nymphs that emerge can think and act like normal children. I guess you could say Chrysallis is my mother in name only. She actually did lay the egg, but the breeders made me who I am. Even after I became a nymph, they were the ones who taught me and the others.”
I stared for a second until it became apparent he was waiting for me to comment.
“That’s... a lot to take in,” I bit my lip.
He arched an eyebrow. “That’s all? I was expecting more.”
Shaking my head, I scrunched my face. “I feel a little queasy at the idea of what sounds like biomancy at a genetic level, but I shouldn’t pass judgment if that’s just how changelings work. It’s just… different. Very. Very. Different. I wouldn’t talk about it at dinner, but I don’t talk about sex at dinner either.”
“Was it really that easy?” The prince started with a low chuckle before devolving into maniacal cackling. “V-ve can’t believe you took that better than almost every changeling ve know!”
The laughing continued as he fell to the floor. “By the Hive, ve’re all idiots so wrapped up in emulating the rest of the world ve never gave a thought to ourselves. Ve fear—almost loathe—that ve are, as you put it, ‘just different’ from the rest of the world like that.”
He gave a strangled giggle that sounded like a sob had tried to sneak in. “Oh. If irony were an emotion, I’d be drowning in it right now. That talk on the way back from Rarity’s? This one here and now? Can it really be that simple? Is being ourself the best course of action? What does that even mean for a race shapeshifters who do nothing but wear the faces of others?! What masks are part of us? What masks aren’t? Ve’ve been terrified for generations that ve’d be labeled monsters and freaks if that got out.”
He continued to cackle, wiping a tear from his eye. “Not that ve aren’t already labeled such, but things could always be worse.” Drawing in a deep shuddering breath, he rose to his feet. “Ah, I needed that. And ve only just got to the good parts. Everyling hates to talk about the zeroth chrysalling, but the others are celebrated as highlights of a changeling’s life.”
Chuckling again, he started walking once more, waving for me to follow.
“Like ve were saying before that wonderful, wonderful, intermission, breeders raise the young. They not only spin us into who we are within the egg, but also teach us everything there is to know about the Hive and outside world after we emerge from the first chrysalling. It’s a simple time with simple pleasures, just like foalhood.”
His smile grew, and his voice became a soft murmur – the echo pitter-pattering at the threshold of hearing like rain in a fresh spring shower. “When a nymph finally realizes what they want to do for the Hive though, the second chrysalling begins. The castes you’ve heard me mention—analysts, breeders, drones, harvesters, infiltrators, lords, and warriors—represent the potential outcomes. You might compare it to a pony’s tribe as all the castes have different physical characteristics to carry out their duty to the hive.”
His voice fell so much I could barely hear. “I wanted to follow in mother’s footsteps and bring an era of prosperity…. Kind of a bittersweet memory now that I know her.” Shaking his head he picked up the pace.
I was pretty sure Castle was getting careless and simply making us walk a circular corridor at this point given how similar all the decorations were getting. I discreetly moved one of the decorative vases resolving to watch for it again—just in case—and ran to catch up.
When I caught up, he thrummed quietly a moment before continuing. “Sorry about that. I got distracted.”
I had been too, but the reappearance of the vase confirmed my nagging suspicions and allowed me to pay more attention. I certainly wasn’t obsessing over the card taped to the side that read, “Took you long enough, Mistress. I will continue to buy time, but the guests are getting antsy.”
The prince’s wings rubbed together, forming a haunting violin-like melody. “The third chrysalling hasn’t happened in the Hive for a over a thousand years…. Rather, it hasn’t happened in our Hive—the supposedly first and only one. Ve guess there’s more out there though, and if Lyra’s any indication they might be better off than ours.
There was a particularly discordant chirp. “And that means Celestia was right about that idiotic contract…. Everylings’ deaths would have been meaningless….”
He sighed, and I give him a gentle nudge and smile to comfort him. My quills, however, remained sharp, ready, and professional.
The prince shook his head, snorting. “Right, I forgot you can’t appreciate the magnitude of that. Probably for the best. It wouldn’t be healthy for me to follow that tangent.”
I gave a quiet sigh, ears flattening back against my head. “Cide: translates to ‘killer’ and is used in law to describe crimes that pertain to the purposeful act of killing another—e.g. equicide, minocide, dracocide, etc. Geno: translates to ‘people’, referring to a large group of creatures that may or may not consist of one or more differing species—generally used when dealing with a country, culture, or other massive conglomeration of creatures. Genocide: use of the roots and general law would therefore suggest genocide to be the premeditated killing of a specific group, culture, or country.”
“Oh.” He blinked.
I smiled wryly. “Yeah... I wasn’t exactly idle yesterday. Besides developing my oneiromancy for Spike, I was digging into my Equestrian law books to figure out how existing laws might interfere with a proper integration. The term might not be in any contemporary law books, but it wasn’t that hard to figure out using crimes with similar roots and a translation dictionary.”
He gave a forced grin. “Well, sorry about that, but I suppose it’s a good omen if I haven’t been blasted to bits by rainbows.”
Shaking my head, I frowned. “Honestly? I’m just disappointed in both you and Celestia. There was certainly no reason for you to go to such an extreme as a sign of goodwill, but there was also no reason for Celestia and Luna to react that harshly given what we’re used to facing. Remind me to tell you the whole Starlight Glimmer story sometime.”
I smiled. “She might be my student now, but she kind of has the blood of an unfathomable number of worlds on her hooves from messing with time. In the end, she fixed things so those deaths never happened, but they still occurred on a technical level.”
My frown deepened. “It’s the same for you. You made a mistake. We stopped it in time. I don’t understand why the princesses got so worked up.”
“That’s—” Morpheus bit back his first response. Slowly, he tilted his head and thrummed before finally chuckling. “Twilight, don’t ever change.”
He looked up and off into the distance with a wistful smile. “I mean it. You have the most beautifully naive logic sometimes. It’s both wrong and right on so many levels. It— It gives us perspective, you know? I used to be like that….”
The library had yet to appear, and Morpheus and I had stopped even trying to find it. There wasn’t any reason to walk if Castle had us going in circles. We simply stood there—Morpheus biting his chops, me ready to take more notes with a patient smile.
After about a minute of silence, he sighed and gave me a weak smile back, but it was abruptly cut off as the floor opened up beneath us. With a scream of terror, we fell straight through the ceiling into the library—the library that spanned the entire trunk of the tree. I swore the floating construct of gizmos, gyros, and gems in the middle winked at me as we passed it, and my life started to flash before my eyes, only for us to land on in a bed of pillows on one of the floating platforms.
The one I face-planted into was embroidered with the message, “I have failed the Mistress and accept my punishment.”
“Geez. If you wanted special alone time for ‘punishment and discipline’ with that pillow, we coulda rescheduled.” Lyra’s smooth drawl flowed into my ears. I could almost hear the grin splitting her face. “Besides, I need to figure out how to use this fascinating new info on your kinks.”
“Lyra,” I growled. “Please stop. Rarity’s been playing matchmaker all morning. I’m really not in the mood for you to do it too, especially when you’re going in entirely the wrong direction.”
The lyrist giggled. “So you’re only into older gentleponies. Got it.”
“Lyra!” I was glad everypony else decided to join me in scolding her there. It was very satisfying to know that not everypony wanted to set me up.
Morpheus tsked from somewhere in the pillow pile. “Don’t take it the wrong way. She was probably a harvester before her third chrysalling. They love playing matchmaker, and it could be worse.”
He let the silence hang knowing I would have to ask that unspeakable question. I tried not to say it, but it was like trying not to yawn when somepony else starts it. “How could it possibly be worse?”
The prince thrummed. “Well… Mother has a reputation as a black widow matchmaker. Couples she sets up tend to have one night of unbelievable debauchery before they turn upon each other like a female spider eating its mate.”
It was impossible not to blanch at that.
He continued, gazing beyond my horrified face with his own thousand-yard stare. “Metaphorically speaking, of course—although there was that one time in Las Neighgas.” A shudder rippled and clicked through his unnatural stillness. “She was abhorrently proud of that one.”
There were no proper words to respond to that. There was only my repeated scream of “Eww!” muffled by the pillows.
Finally, I rose from the pillows.
Deep breath in. Hoof to chest. Think a happy thought.
I was about to learn something. That was always a good thing.
Exhale. Push the problem away. Just like Cadance taught me.
Rinse and repeat as necessary.
I needed control here, and I was never going to get it if I continued to let everypony fluster me. It was time to act like the princess I was.
Lighting my horn, I grabbed the many and varied pillows Castle had given us. With my eyes closed, I imagined where each and every one needed to go before turning my telekinesis loose. Soft, fluffy, missiles flew everywhere around us—narrowly missing everypony. Like foal’s blocks they arranged themselves as I had imagined. Opening my eyes, a veritable throne stood before me while each of my guests had their own pillow to rest comfortably on.
Lyra had the punishment pillow.
A dainty flutter carried me to me seat, where I settled to survey my guests. Bon Bon was now shuffling nervously under my gaze, while Morpheus and ‘Star Swirl’ were exchanging wary glances between themselves and me. Lyra actually backed up when I looked at her, instinctively bowing like she had the first few times I’d introduced her to Celestia when we were growing up.
Perhaps I had overdone it. I really hated playing the princess card.
I ruffled my wings, trying to edge things back towards casual. “Alright, everypony get comfy. I think it’s time to get to the root of why we’re here.” The lights flickered providing an assortment of snacks, and the others hesitantly sat themselves. I inclined my head towards ‘Star Swirl’ to begin.
He tilted his head to scrutinize me. His voice had been gruff but energetic before. Now it came out raspy and tired. “Where to begin? You’re not the Twilight I knew as a filly, so maybe ve should start there. Reconnect before moving on? Yes, that seems like a good idea. It would allow me to use my own material.”
His horn didn’t light up so much as distort the surrounding air. It was almost painful to look at as it shifted through various colors. Suddenly, it snapped to the nice clean cerulean Star Swirl was supposed to have.
“Sorry,” he bowed his head slightly, “I forgot to reattune myself before leaving. If I don’t settle on a color for my magic, it can be a bit overwhelming.”
I waved for him to continue—not trusting my churning stomach enough to speak. The light from his horn expanded outward to encompass the entire library. All at once, my carefully sorted books came free from their shelves. Waving his horn like a conductor’s baton, he arranged them in a large conical pattern around us.
A book flew in front of his closed eyes. “No.” Another took its place. “No.” A maelstrom of books began to fly by not-quite hitting us. “No. No. No. Hive, no. Maybe. Yes. No...”
It took perhaps three minutes at most for him to sort through my entire main library. Picking from the small pile of books he had kept. He levitated me Divining the Future Sans the Divine by Third Eye LII. “We first met at your entrance exam for Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns, although I assure you it was entirely a coincidence. You were the one who was sneaking through my bag, after all, while I was waiting for Lyra to get out of her practical. It was quite a surprise to find a seven year old filly pouring through my newest thesis draft simply because the waiting room had run out of books to read.”
I blinked. “Wait. You’re Third Eye? But you—”
“—died in the invasion of Canterlot?” he finished. “Hardly. I just faked my death.” A blaze of blue fire erupted around him before flickering into that painful distortion of color and space. It finally settled on a silver-grey blaze before a slim white unicorn stepped out. “Ve had to. Ve knew there would be a thorough investigation of every high-ranking official after the invasion.”
Taking a deep breath in, I repeated Cadance’s exercise. I didn’t really know Third Eye, but Celestia had. “Ok. I should have expected something like this after Lyra, but how many of the ponies I’ve met are changelings? How many of you are there total? What do you call yourselves? What do you want from Equestria?” I cut myself off before I started to fully ramble.
Star Swirl— No. Third Eye: I had at least met Third Eye—clicked his tongue. “Hard to say. The Everfree Hive tries to avoid direct interaction with anypony of importance. I and some others had contact with you on occasion, but only Lyra met with you extensively. Our hive itself numbers us at two thousand one hundred seventeen with current census records—excluding the slight margin of error that accounts for deaths and newly hatched eggs.”
He stood and walked in front of me, prostrating himself—much to my discomfort. “As to our goals… they are what you would expect from any upstanding Equestrian citizen. We want Equestria to flourish because a happy Equestria means a happy hive. Our drones often take the roles of prominent artisans or architects, and our harvesters are often famous entertainers. Breeders tend to rotate out of the Hive proper to take teaching positions, and our analysts occasionally feed the scientific community.”
Righting himself, he looked to me with his head held high, continuously shapeshifting through the entirety of the Third Eye lineage. “Indeed, we even contribute to Equestria’s defense. The Everfree Hive may not have many warriors, but ve’ve been advising the princess for a very long time—using our analysts to ‘divine’ the future. Our ‘prophecies’ have minimized the collateral damage of countless conflicts—including Nightmare Moon.”
Another burst of fire returned him to his ‘Star Swirl’ guise. “In a few rare instances we even have a number of excuses to directly intervene in a crisis. It’s almost abhorrent what claiming to be a time travelling hero does for increasing the credibility of a disguise. Most do not pull off a decent Star Swirl, yet this disguise somehow works wonders every time.”
A little over two thousand changelings had been peacefully mingling with Equestria for who knew how long. I didn’t know if I should laugh or cry. If their reveal to the rest of Equestria was timed right, this would make integration so much easier. If it wasn’t, ponies would panic on a whole new level.
And it was such a tiny number too. A population of two thousand was painfully small compared to most Equestrian towns. Even Ponyville had a larger population, but that wouldn’t matter if panic broke out. A lot of innocent ponies might get hurt from others trying to catch these equally innocent changelings.
My humming stopped. I didn’t actually have proof of that. I couldn’t just assume they’d been perfectly harmless if illegal residents for over a thousand years.
A pitiful whine rose from Lyra’s throat, crushing my paranoia. I was being ridiculous.
The whining stopped as quickly as it started, and it took me a second to realize why. I forced my face into a neutral state. Looking at Lyra, I carefully made sure not to yell. “Pushing my buttons is not helping here.”
Yelling would mean I was angry or that I was panicking. I couldn’t afford that. Lyra was my friend, and that would not be fair to her.
The lyrist sunk into her pillow and scooted closer to Bon Bon.
“Twilight.” Morpheus murmured hesitantly from my right. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re trying to hide your emotions in all the wrong ways.”
I turned to him, and he squirmed on his pillow like a fly trapped in a spider’s web. “You’re keeping just enough masked that all we’re getting is the panic and distrust leaking through, and that’s making it really hard for everyling here—Lyra most of all. Harvesters almost universally leave themselves an open book.”
He looked anywhere but towards me, echo fracturing slightly. “E-even I’m a little off put by it. It just isn’t natural for you.”
My ears flattened back against my head. That wasn’t good. Apparently, I was the spider.
Deep breath. Repeat the exercise. Deep breath. Repeat the exercise.
Push the problem away. Don’t bottle everything else up.
Doing that never helps: it only makes more problems.
“Better?” I exhaled slowly.
“Kind of?” the prince ventured, kneading his pillow.
“Better.” Lyra’s smile was small, but it was back. She was no longer huddling into Bon Bon, although it could now be called cuddling. “Sorry.... I’ve never had to think of you as a princess before. Somehow the giant crystal castle wasn’t enough of a hint.” Her grin grew. “I guess those princess lessons you mentioned must be paying off.”
Sighing, I couldn’t help but nod. “Definitely, but it’s kind of hard to tell whether that’s good or bad.”
Messaging my temple with a hoof, I collected my thoughts and looked up to Star Swirl, who had remained quiet for the exchange. “You called your hive the— I’m sorry. Can you change back to Third Eye? I’ve at least met him, and Star Swirl is distracting.”
‘Star Swirl’ nodded and was consumed by fire to be replaced with Third Eye. “I have no problem with that. The Third Eye family are my prefered personas. I only showed up as Star Swirl because someling—” He gave Lyraa pointed look. “—thought it would be funny.”
I rolled my eyes. “Of course she did. Anyways, you called your Hive the Everfree Hive, so I assume that’s where it’s located. Where is it exactly, and are there any other Hives I need to worry about?”
His gaze grew glassy as he hummed in thought. “Ve know the location of one other Hive up north, but they mostly deal with the yaks. They don’t like the idea of what may or may not happen when they near the crystal heart, so you don’t need to worry about them. Our hive is—as you said—deep in the Everfree Forest, but I can’t really tell you where. Space begins to distort that far in, so the path changes if you don’t know it. You actually passed it once or twice the other day, but we couldn’t risk venturing out with Chrysalis nearby. She’s been looking for all the fragment hives, and we’d rather not be found.”
Morpheus narrowed his gaze. “Fragment hives? There’s more than one of you? And Mother knows?”
“A lot of the lords know.” The word lord dripped with venom. “They just never speak of it, and make sure to delete all records. The Azure Veil forbid someling wanting to try another way of life. If you really didn’t know about us, then you can bet Chrysalis never really gave up her throne. I’m not surprised really, given what she’s doing.”
I had a flashback to the forest and felt a chill run down my spine.
“Every hive she finds goes silent. We sent infiltrators to scout only for them to disappear as well. We finally got a report back recently, but it cuts off half way through. Tell me. Have any of you ever heard of a spell that lets you steal somepony’s cutie mark?”
His words were like ice, and I felt my heart stop.
“It turns out we actually have one of those.” He gestured to Lyra’s flank. I hadn’t really payed attention to the scratch marks there until now, but I was suddenly acutely aware that Chrysalis had had similar marks. I had just thought they were scars or something, but, looking closer at Lyra’s, they were more like runes.
Third Eye sighed. “They don’t manifest until the third chrysalling, but everyling has one lying dormant. Chrysalis? She’s ripping them off and doing something with them. Ve have no idea what it is or where she got such a spell or why she’s doing it. Ve don’t even know if her victims are still alive.”
There were a number of sharp distinct clicks from Morpheus as he twitched, failing to keep his face from contorting in outrage. He was holding himself as still as possible, but I could see he was holding back a torrent of motion.
For my part, I sucked in a shaky breath. Some of the pieces were falling into place. “I know of a spell like that. I don’t like to talk about it though. There are a number of reasons, but the biggest is I know the creator of that spell means well. Starlight isn’t evil.”
Morpheus cocked an eyebrow. “This is the same Starlight who almost destroyed time?”
I sighed, ruffling my wings. “She was somewhat lacking in the kind of long term perspective needed for somepony with her kind of power when we first met. In hindsight, it’s easier for me to relate. Celestia knows the similar mistakes I’ve made.”
I summoned Smarty Pants from my room. Lyra and Bon Bon flinched at the sight of the doll, while Morpheus and Third Eye looked on warily. “Case in point, I once tried to make a friendship problem. So, yes, this is the same Starlight who almost broke time, but I’m confident she can be trusted just as much as I can.”
Wriggling my childhood companion one last time for emphasis, I banished it back to its rightful spot in my room. “Anyways, our first confrontation was more of a philosophical conundrum than anything else. We had a disagreement on what it meant for ponies to live in harmony as equals, and I never seriously entertained her ideas.”
I tried not to purse my lips at the memory. “She thought Cutie Marks created unbridgeable gaps between ponies, and that our special talents isolated us from others. Theoretically, her ideas had some merit. I mean, I was terrified of showing off my magic when Trixie came into town for that exact reason, but that didn’t excuse what she was doing in the name of her cause.”
Shaking my head, I looked up towards the gyroscopic construct staring down at us. I smiled as I remembered parting on better terms. “It took a while to convince me, but she’s back where she started, seeing if she can do things right. I haven’t had time to visit, but her letters say that allowing residents to borrow and swap any mark they need has done wonders for the town’s self-confidence and perspective. They’re almost literally taking time to walk in each other’s shoes.”
I frowned as I pulled my thoughts back to the present. “I’m not looking forward to shutting down her dream again, but I might have to now. Whether or not they are the same spell, her spell and Chrysalis’ probably work on the same principle. If Starlight can remove, impose, or temporarily swap Cutie Marks, I don’t see why Chrysalis can’t stockpile them for herself. Hay, that might be exactly what Tirek did. She could do anything she wants if she gets enough of them. Even worse, that might be why my detection spell didn’t work.”
I had stood up at some point to pace. Turning around, I pointed at Third Eye. “How many of your changelings have gone through their third metamorphosis like Lyra?”
He tilted his head. “Most of them?” There was a small choking noise from Morpheus. “It usually happens rather quickly once they leave the Hive for any sort of extended stay in Equestria proper. A few like me actually succeeded in attaining the fourth chrysalling.”
The prince was now staring bug-eyed at the changeling next to him.
“Don’t be like that.” Third Eye scoffed at him before turning back to me. “Honestly, he should expect it. Someling—namely, my father—had to have entered the mythical fifth chrysalling to make a new Hive here after all. How much did he explain about the chrysalling to you? Last ve heard it was starting to turn taboo as a discussion topic for his hive.”
I shook my head and resumed pacing. “Not much. He was trying to quickly talk me through it, but he was interrupted by us dropping in. From what I know though, it might be why we haven’t found your hive before now, and, if that’s the case, it’s also why Chrysalis can fool the detection spell. The detection spell focuses on identifying the magical signature of a pony, but, if changelings have a small amount of all three tribes magic and a Cutie Mark equivilant, then—“
“Twilight!” Bon Bon spoke for the first time since we started. Her voice was uncharacteristically firm. “Speculate later. We’re not here for Chrysalis.”
I froze for a second before forcing myself to return to my pseudo-throne. “Right. Right. Chrysalis is a whole other problem. I think I’ve heard most of what I need to, though. If you can get me those census reports you mentioned, I’ll forward it to Celestia, who can get the right ponies involved with planning specifics.” I shuffled around, finally letting myself sink in the pillows comfortably. Cracking a smile, I continued, “You mentioned a story about how you came to be here?”
Third Eye chuckled, shaking his head. “Indeed, I did. I think it’s a story for another time, though.”
“But—” Bon Bon and I began what would likely be a very vocal protest. This was the point I was supposed to get my reward! Everything I’d asked so far was a necessity for negotiations.
I was supposed to get something interesting out of this!
Third Eye’s horn wavered with that painful not-quite light, and we were placed in silence. “You must understand our memory has some holes. I thought ve would waltz in, meet the bright eyed bookworm from Canterlot, and get away with some half-remembered fanciful tale. Ve were not expecting you to actually act the part of a princess.”
He waved to the glowering Bon Bon. “Bon Bon here was going to meet the Hive in a couple days. Come with her. I was going to give her the actual story then, and you all deserve the whole truth on the fall of the changelings if ve can scrounge it up from the depths of our memories.”
The rest of the books he picked out thudded down beside me. “To placate you in the meantime, there were five hundred odd years I had to make do without the Hivemind after my family’s banishment. Ve believe these may fill in the gaps then and even beyond, although they are somewhat unreliable in some cases.”
The silence dropped as I browsed through the titles. Every single one was a source of fiction, and most were ancient to the point of being myths and folktales. I couldn’t help but arch an eyebrow. “You want me to use these as sources?”
He shrugged. “They’re all under various pen names of mine. I wanted some record of the truth before I forgot, even if I had to take a little creative license.”
“There’s Lovecraftian horror in here.” I deadpanned.
“Bah! Beloved Craft was and still is my crowning achievement. He has an entire sub-genre named after him. Besides, a lot of those stories hold a grain of truth” He waved a hoof dismissively. “But that’s not important here. I merely give you these knowing your studious nature.
“The real value of a tale is in the telling, and—come your visit to the Hive—ve will hopefully have a truly grand tale to tell.”
My trip to the Everfree Hive was interesting to say the least. It goes without saying I’ll need to give you that story someday.
Of course, in the days leading up to the trip, I was busy getting ready for it. Morpheus, however, was spending the time getting to know the others. He spent a quiet day with Fluttershy, and there was apparently some misunderstanding involving Pinkie Pie. Nothing major really, but you may want to follow up with him.
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i love it when the castle talks
...I beg to differ.
7207046 It was a cold piece. Stark, harsh, and full of reviews that one could find only in cratering applause in how far it managed to find itself out there. (I know its a stretch, but felt puckish there.)
I vote for the Fluttershy story.
Mini arcs please. They tend to come and go quickly.
Brilliant as always
He is right though this chapter went through at least 3 major revisions excluding the typical grammar and elaboration. By far one of the hardest chapters I've worked on.
I hope you all like it :)
I want to explain, or place in part why this nuance here in the story strikes me wrongly in this chapter, but I haven't been able to. Not blaming your writing, or the rest, but something in it isn't clicking for me. The overall story is still stellar, and very heavily into quality. I wish I could offer better feedback here, positive and negative.
I would like to see the hive first, personally.
7210806
Which nuance?
7211216 The way this chapter comes across more so, perception is a very subjective point. And in viewing this chapter, It, for lacking the words, is off to me in some fashion despite the same style of writing, and some level of writing. It's like a detail you notice, but can never place why it was off to you.
7209865
Well part of the wait was college. I'm just about to start finals week actually and am probably gonna need to pull a couple all nighters on an audio project and/ or my graphics engine project. That said, there would have been even more revisions if I'd tried to squeeze everything else I wanted to in. I'm actually amazed I got what I did in, but that probably comes from staggering events with little bits of fluff so it's not 100% info dump. It is a little annoying though... Realistically I feel like it's OOC for most of the characters involved to have allowed the conversation to stop where it did, but I needed to do it for the readers sake. Continuing any further stood a chance of breaking immersion.
7211503
Might be the sheer amount of info combined with how I staggered it's presentation with little fluffy bits. I had to do it to make the presentation more palatable, but from a logical standpoint the events feel slightly off to me. It's not that they're actually off, but I can't help but look at the more casual parts of the chapter and wonder if the characters realize they're just shooting the breeze when they're supposed to be having important diplomatic discussions. It's completely in character for them to do so, but it still feels off for a reason I can't quite explain.
Pinkie sounds like fun! Put my vote in for the fluffy pink mini-arc.
Yeah, better do the mini-arcs first. Best to keep things in order.
Most people say "ponnequin", but I like this one.
The show already has a Vegas parody. In "It's About Time", Dash mentions a city called "Las Pegasus".
"Some others and I"
A confidant is someone whom you have told a secret to in order to get it off your chest. The word you're looking for here is "confident".
7220062
Well any order would be in order. I would just have to slightly rephrase somethings to keep it chronologically consistent. That was why I could ask what you guys wanted. If you guys wanted the trip to the Everfree first because you felt I didn't resolve this arc enough I could do that, and if you wanted more fluff I would do the mini arcs.
Actually, that tends to be a matter of debate. I used to go with Las Pegasus until it was pointed out that it made much more sense for Dash to have actually said Los Pegasus as a pun on Los Angeles. Not only does a pegasus city fit the idea of Los Angeles being the City of Angels, but it also makes Dash's search in It's About Time coast to coast rather than randomly stopping in the middle of the desert.
7220392 It's not just chronology; it's a matter of flow. It just feels a little too soon for a hive visit.
You know, one of the main problem with changelings is that they're hidden. It's not the shapeshifting or the emotion-eating or even the general weirdness, it's that they're basically unaccountable. They can do basically whatever they want to, because nobody knows what they're capable of or even where they are. They're not beholden to anyone and that makes them a threat, not just on the national level, but on the individual. They basically run themselves like an organized crime syndicate - and that's something no society can conscion.
7226826
On the other hand though, they're going to be hidden regardless of what you do. If you don't integrate them into society, not only are they hidden, but you don't have any changelings on your side to give you an edge over actually dangerous changelings.
The only other alternative is genocide, and even if you completely ignore the moral implications, there's still the problem that, as you said, they're hidden. So yeah. Hidden, while something you would prefer to avoid in a society, is in this case, due to changelings inherently having that property, actually a reason to try to integrate them into society. It's a reason not to do it, but it's an ever greater reason not to do the alternatives.
7229680
Kind of the point.
7226826 And wiping them out would be the alternative? Very stupid. Seriously, all it would take is the right asshole to fill the power vacuum in the shadows and Equestria would be ruined overnight. Integration has the potential to remove a major threat without creating such a power vacuum.
7232657
Did everyone turn stupid suddenly or did nobody even bother reading my actual comment? What are all you people even talking about?
7232666
Probably a formatting/wording issue. It took me a couple reads myself.
The italics make it seem like you're advocating for eliminating a threat too major to deal with any other way. Reading it without the italics it's still worded a little strongly, but it also suggests neutralization rather than elimination. Neutralization at least has a chance of a positive outcome for the changelings.
7233149
I suppose so. It still would have been polite of them to at least ask for clarification instead of just making assumptions, though.
In any case, "neutralize" and "eliminate" are really somewhat interchangeable in this sense. A problem that is neutralized has been eliminated and vice versa. In neither case does it actually mean that the outcome of this needs be neutral to either involved party, though. It can be a sum negative or positive for either or neither. And that was really the point there: by researching and integrating and making them known, they are removing the exact thing that makes the changelings threatening to begin with. Criminal changelings become not just changelings anymore, they become specifically criminals. Nothing else about them is actually really that odious or incompatible with civilized society.
It's an incredibly elegant solution to the problem in which everyone involved wins, except for the elements who specifically wanted to profit from their anonymity and ability to abuse it.
Ooo, now that was a significant chapter with significant events. I'm a little disappointed that it apparently wasn't really Star Swirl, but it sounds like there may still be details to become revealed about that. I hope we get to see Celestia's reaction to her old, dead friend Third Eye showing back up.
And just what are you up to, Chrysalis.
Where has Starlight been? I was led to understand she lived with Twilight, and I wasn't even aware this took place after Starlight's time travel episodes. If that's the case, you need to establish a firmer grounding on the exact period the story takes place in-I was led to believe it was post Tirek, but little specificity beyond that.
The fact that, to my knowledge, Starlight hasn't been mentioned once in this story raises massive questions as to what exactly she's been doing, why Twilight never referenced her, and so on.
Sooooo... Morpheus is pretty much a complete scrub/useless? Numerous hives he has/had no knowledge of, his Mother is still calling the shots and actually never stopped doing so, he's less advanced/developed/mature than pretty much any random member of the rogue hive(s)(and thought that the stages of development they reach as their norm only existed extremely rarely or in myth and legend), and approximately 1/3-1/2 of the EoH, as well as the Sisters, actively hate/distrust/dislike him.
What if anything does he have going for him?
Why should we even give a shit at this point about his people's food situation? There are other hives who are prospering so his hives death isn't extinction, pretty much all we hear about the other individuals in his hive is the other Lords (who are complete assholes) so saving them doesn't seem worth it anyway, plus his Mom's figured out how to cheat the detection spells and apparently never really retired so them starving seems unlikely anyways.
The only reason at this point that I can see for him to keep going with his plan/for us to care if he succeeds is because he literally drops dead if he doesn't.
He seems less the protagonist and more a comedic relief character, Chrysalis' scapegoat/patsy/distraction, or just plain incompetent at his job, diplomacy, covert ops, infiltration, negotiations, ruling, etc. at this point.
Pretty much what I'm saying is; Morpheus needs a power boost/more personal development to be even relevant as it stands now.
8118724
I'm... not really sure what to say to that. You are the first person to express the idea that Morpheus is too weak. It's frankly something I've never considered as a possibility, and, indeed, the reason you might have reached that conclusion is I have spent a good chunk of time trying to make sure he didn't end up some OP Gary Stu OC -- because let's be honest, the phrases 'son of Chrysalis' and. 'ruler of the changelings' should immediately raise some warning flags that he could easily end up as such.
Applejack is wary and Rainbow dislikes him because it'd be silly for all the elements to randomly trust him. The diarchs are distrusting for similar reasons, but I wouldn't say they hate Morpheus for reasons you'll find out later. Chrysalis isn't in charge so much as she's lurking in the shadows doing something we--- well, something you, the reader, don't know. And the other hives are important because they highlight what's supposed to be one of Morpheus's -- and in a way his hive's -- biggest faults. They don't just over complicate things, they also tend to take a pessimistic or fatalistic approach to things. Like, one of the big important lessons Morpheus needed to learn was things aren't always as bad as they seem. He needs to learn to have some faith, especially in his friends.
Dang I usually don't comment on a story until I catch up with the latest chapter but there is something about this bit that compels me to.
Morpheus should be preparing for civil war at this point. If there is a plot by chrysalis that's probably going to make negotiations break down then he needs to smack her down and do it hard. Perhaps fein some kind of political problem he needs her help to address, get her to bring out her forces against an obvious trap, then ambush the ambush by bringing out the sisters and just have them flatten her before she pulls anything. That's what I'd do at least. Looking forward to what is actually gonna happen though.
8119250
This is my first time reading through this so I don't have all the information as of yet but right now Morpheus isn't striking me as weak so much as...Well, his mother did a very bad job of preparing him to replace her (maybe deliberately?) and he used that insufficient preparation to launch the peace efforts. He's not weak so much as totally in over his head.
I absolutely loved this. So perfectly placing that you wrote the chapter between the seasons, and being a really intriguing glimpse at where the fanon may have gone if she had been another casulty of the status quo. Just like the pre-Nightmare-Night Luna fics have a certain charm about them, I would love to see a fic following a Starlight who didn't surprise everyone by staying at the castle. To say nothing about that version of the town being in itself quite a promising premise.
While I'm here, I'll chime in on the controversies of the last couple chapters. Applejack feels perfect in her polite distrust -- she may have learned a thing or two from Bridle Gossip, but she was one of the most vocally against Zecora. Rainbow is definitely a bit less relatable in her less-moderated distrust and I personally am more with Morpheus (*groans* I just now got the pun) in his "I know I made an idiot out of myself, but I'm not sure what part of it was idiotic", but not understanding her exact triggers doesn't mean she's OOC. She's being protective of the herd, she's always had trouble letting things like the wedding go, and her friends are turning on her. Blowing up at Morpheus like that feels like something she'd do under the circumstances, and so does realizing she went over the top and not really being comforable with where to go from there.
As for Morpheus himself, it's not so much him having lost relevance but rather him needing to come at things from a new direction. If the situation was actually what he thought it was when he first came to Twilight, then taking point on a divisive peace with the ponies gives him a clear role. Now that that's been pulled out from under him -- and us -- twice now (the Queen actively working against him and his hive being only a small portion of the species) I can see how people are feeling a bit lost: he can't go on like before because no treaty he makes will have enough weight behind it to support itself. I'm not sure I'd go so far as 8310476, but it has become less about dissolution of the walls between changeling and pony than about forming new ones between his supporters and Chrysalis's. Like any shifting of gears, there's a period of quiet belaying the underlying confusion as things work against the momentum on their way to the new trajectory. I just think people are overreacting to losing that footing rather than looking at how everything will come back together.
At least I won't have to wait long to find out how things turn out!
Also, sorry about this being a bit dificult to parse; I have no idea why I'm feeling poetic tonight.
-- Sam