• Published 19th Sep 2015
  • 5,775 Views, 781 Comments

I, Chrysalis - Scarheart

Imprisoned, Queen Chrysalis writes the story of her life, her legacy. But not for those pathetic ponies! Gifted with a daughter, she cherishes what could be the last changeling she will ever interact with...

  • ...

Chapter I (Edited 5/9/16)

Edited by DJ_Neon_Lights, and TuxOKC.

I am born.

Rather, hatched.

My egg was my home, once. It is where everything starts for changelings. It was my beginning.

And in that beginning, I was alone, yet not alone. The darkness was never really dark, not since I had become aware. I could always feel something… no, sense something. Beyond my curved walls containing me within my tiny world was something else. Something soothing. Gentle. Sometimes my world would move, rolling around. Noise came beyond my walls. I could not fully understand it, nor comprehend it. It was a pleasant noise.

Time meant nothing to me. Sometimes I was awake. Mostly, I slept. And grew. There was always the Presence. Slowly, it became more and more a part of the awareness. I moved a lot. My world was becoming too small for me! I squirmed, trying to get comfortable. I tried pushing against the wall, but it was too hard for me to push through. It would give some, but I could not pierce through.


Sound became my companion. I did not yet understand the concept of sight. Sound and feelings. Feelings were perceptions from within. They were raw, new to me. It was distinct and changed a lot. It was what I was aware of, after the sensing. As I grew, I began to associate the sound and the senses as coming from one Thing, most of the time. There were others, but they were muted, almost as if they were afraid to intrude. I could feel this… fear? Is that what it was? Feelings were utterly confusing to me. I did not know what they were and what they meant. They simply were unseen things that confused and befuddled me.


It was something else. Fear made me want to run away where I could not move. My mind was slowly flooded with things. It all came from one source.


It was a she... the source was She! She identified herself to me. For a long time, She tried to reach out to me, a soft touch here, a caress there. It made me feel safe. At first, I was afraid as it was something I did not know. She held my thoughts and we… Bonded? Yes! The Bond was Important. The Bond was a part of what I was. What She was. What All of Us were. It was a part of what made us whole.

Her happiness made me feel safe. She rarely left me. But, when she did, there was another Presence. It would not touch my mind. I tried to reach out to it, but it was not She and it pushed me away. Those times made me sad. I would call out to She with my thoughts. I wanted her Touch! She made me safe! She let me grow!

Always, always She would return. I would feel She before her Presence would come near. My anxiety was the first thing She would push away. The Voice which was She would take my mind into herself and make everything alright.

I became aware with the Voice came Words. What were words? She taught me as my mind would allow.

...Images. I did not understand. What where images? The gentleness from She gave me security. I was wanting to meet She! She was so nice and kind! Every caress to my thoughts, every brush of the thoughts of She to mine was something I yearned for.

Soon, She would tell me. When you are ready, we will meet. Her thoughts projected her being so I might know her when the time came. Time? Time for what? Was something going to happen?

It was a long time before I understood what the images meant. She repeated them to me, over and over again. She would put her Voice in a way that was… a song? She told me it was words in song. It made me feel sleepy sometimes. Eventually, I became Aware of something else while I slept. I could not understand the concept of words.




Such a strange thing, to dream. I asked She about dreams. She told me it was perfectly normal to dream. Not in words. In things I could not perceive. Visions. I had a hard time understanding. She kept trying to teach me. Sometimes she was frustrated, but usually She was amused. She taught me as much as she felt I could learn. Simple things, She assured me. It was all so confusing!

She promised I would understand when I was ready.

When I was ready? I wanted out now! I wanted to know now! I wanted… I wanted…

My Dreams were of colors. Colors? Yes, things had different colors. Colors and images I did not understand. Some were scary. I did not know what the shapes were, but they had colors. Vibrant colors! There was a tall thing. It stood on four legs. It was… blue? Dark blue. There were sparkles… and… was it She?

No! She emerged, enshrouding my mind. I did not understand the word. The thing went away, but not before reaching towards me. We touched and I felt for a moment her emotions. I did not like it. I cried out. It was so alien! There was no hurt, but it was so different! I was afraid of the thing!

After that, my dreams were uneventful. She would dream with me and show me what She was like. I could not see very well. I did not understand sight. My eyes would get better, She promised. Everything would get better and soon we would meet! Eyes, ears, nose, and other things I could not use yet. But they were there and they were parts of my whole. She was very excited to meet me. It would be a great day! It made me happy and I wanted to meet She.

Was She Everything?

She was the only thing Beyond I felt safe with. The others were there. I could sense them. She was allowing them to greet me. I could feel her protectiveness. I was guarded. Their touches were brief and reverent.

Then, I could not understand. How could I? I was still in my egg. My egg was safe. My egg was my sanctuary. What lay beyond was unknown. She was there, waiting. I wanted to meet her! Every passing moment I grew more and more excited.

I wanted to be free. My home was restrictive, no longer cozy. I wriggled more, trying to get comfortable. It was impossible. With the passing of time, I noticed a humming sound through my very being. It would ebb and flow. It felt as though there were many others like She. She bathed me in assurance.

...I was unable to move!

I tried to wriggle, but there was no wriggle to be had!

The song returned, far more intense and filled with an encouragement. It was time! Time to go to the Beyond! My world was too small now. I was too big! I pushed against the walls of my home, feeling the urge to want out. If I could not get out, surely I would die! It felt as though I had to get out. There was no other choice! Desperately, I put everything into my escape.

Stronger and stronger the song became. My battle against the wall holding me back became a war of attrition. The struggle exhausted me, but I kept pushing! I cried out, chirping as much as my little voice could, while at the same time realizing I could make sounds! The revelation spurred me on with excitement. It was even more exciting when my noise was greeted by more noise! It was not my noise, but another sound. It was She! She was awaiting me! The encouragement from her mind upon mine spurred me to go beyond my strength. The egg gave, cracked. I pushed harder as it grudgingly gave way. Cool air rushed in, bathing my snout as I inhaled my first breath.

I peeped. Something brushed my exposed snout. A soothing voice. Her Voice. The Voice of She. Right there! I was so tired! I had to rest, taking the moment to wonder at this new sensation of my lungs filling. In came the air. Out went the air. In. Out. I rested. She touched me again, speaking words. I still could not understand her words, but the meaning behind them was gentle, encouraging.

I responded, pushing again. The egg rolled, taking me with it. My snout met something with no give. I kicked with my forelegs against the slowly expanding opening. Bits of my shell fell away. One leg was out. It kicked feebly into the air. The egg rolled again. I was upright. I turned my head to one side and blinked as light invaded one of my eyes. I squeezed my eyes shut, not understanding why I could see. It was so strange! Everything was new!

In fear, I cried out, seeking She. She would not help. Why was there no help? There was only encouragement, urging me to do this myself. I was so tired! Feeling weak was frustrating. I became angry with my frustration. I took my frustration out on the shell holding me back. It weakened. Another leg popped free!

I wriggled with renewed vigor. I would win this battle! My struggles were valiant. I stopped every now and then to rest. Then the battle to freedom would resume. The song droned on, rising higher and higher. The egg ripped and I pushed with my rear legs with all of my might.

Free! Freedom was a plop into the Vast Beyond and I suddenly felt air around me, making me shiver. I curled up into a ball, exhausted and wet from what fell out of the egg with me. I trembled from the cold. It was so much warmer back in my home! But, I could not go back. I could not even imagine myself going back. I was Here.

She was waiting for me Here. I felt her nuzzle and responded, chirping. Our Bond, which I thought was strong before, became something much, much more. I needed She. She was my protection. My instincts told me I could trust her unequivocally. I was hungry!

Hunger? My stomach rumbled and I felt a vast, terrifying emptiness as I lay there. I made sounds to let She know I needed food. Something was pushed to me. It was hard and unmoving, but my nose told me it was She. A hole was there. Something oozed from it. A sweet smell found my nostrils. Inhaling deeply, I flicked my tongue out. My taste buds exploded and the sudden hunger became a ravenous beast unto itself!

I gorged on the thick substance, attacking with a frenzy. I could not eat fast enough. She sounded happy and began washing me while I ate. I was sticky and gooey from being inside my egg. She wanted me clean. I wanted to eat. Her tongue was soothing, strong. Every stroke moved my body. As I fed, she held me down gently while I was cleaned. The song died and there was only the sounds of her voice.

This food I ate had something in it my body craved. My very being screamed for it, even as I feasted. It was as though a desperation was settling in and taking a hold of my being. It would always be there. It was one of the very first things to take a grip of me. It would never leave. It could not, for it was a part of my being.

She spoke to me, understanding I was beginning my first experience with what she called the Hunger. She had tried to prepare me for it, but I was just born. She seemed not to mind my lack of comprehension. She cleaned me even after I stopped eating.

I was full, but I was not satisfied. This frightened me. I would never be satisfied.

I was gathered up, held against She.

She spoke. Her words I could not understand, but her pride was evident.

A word. A name. Her first gift to me.


The changeling looked up from her work, slowly setting aside her quill as she blew gently upon the pages. An irritated grimace etched itself over her features as she wondered for the thousandth time why she agreed to this. Sighing, she leaned back, lifting the page from the desk and examining it with a critical eye. She pondered tearing the paper apart and throwing it away, but she paused when there was a rustle at her side. The cushions she lay upon were comfortable, having been strewn there as she preferred writing while loafing with her legs tucked beneath her. It also made her look regal.

There were always eyes upon her.

Her annoyance faded. Glancing at the source of the noise, a smile wormed its way across her muzzle. Against her side and buried beneath a very soft downy blanket was a source of joy and pride. It moved as the dweller beneath adjusted and kicked fitfully for a more comfortable position. The lone candle with which she wrote flickered and danced, casting everything within its range in a ruddy light. For a pony, it was not enough light with which to place words on paper. For a changeling, it was just right.

She waited until the occupant of the blanket ceased moving before setting the paper down. Her attention shifted as she wondered exactly how to proceed at this point. An ear was tuned squarely to the bundle while she dipped the quill into the inkwell.

Setting the page down, a soft snort was her only display of irritation. The room she was in was small, yet comfortable. Its furnishings were simple, yet were more than enough to suit her desired comforts. It was remarkable her ‘hosts’ had seen to it she was given enough to want for nothing while at the same time reminding her she could not leave. In short, she was a prisoner. A very dangerous prisoner. Her location was a state secret. Only five ponies knew where she was. She suspected her guards did not even know where they were.

The mirror at the vanity just across the room showed the reflection of a proud mare. Her mane was straight and lustrous. Charcoal black chitin covered healthy flesh. Her eyes shone brightly, the singular light of the lone candle in the room adding to the exotic eyes ponies found to be both frightening and alluring. At the base of her horn was a metal ring of cast iron etched with runes and enchantments which cut her off from her hive. Her access to magic was severely limited and closely monitored. Her daily regimen of love was enough to keep the changeling healthy without giving her too much power.

In the months since her capture, the changeling had done several things, one of which was of a complete surprise. Not only did she set herself firmly against the interrogations of the ponies, but she had managed to lay an egg and hatch it. The changeling had never even known she was pregnant until moments before she laid it. With all the stress of becoming a prisoner and enduring the endless and repeating questions day after day, the changeling had at first passed her pregnancy as an upset stomach, no doubt from the poison the ponies had been feeding her.

Silence was her companion. Her own thoughts warring within her mind. Thankfully, she was not alone. Though she was cut off from her changelings, she still had one. Again the bundle moved beneath the blanket, snuggling against her side. A tiny chirp, muffled from the blankets caught her attention. The changeling slowly leaned over, arching her neck gracefully as her mane spilled out over her face and shoulders.

Her mane made a perfect curtain to block prying eyes.

“What are you doing?” she whispered to the object of her attention.

A tiny pale head poked up from the blanket. Another chirp pulled at her heart. The changeling smiled, unable to help herself. She nuzzled the little one softly and felt hooves grasp at her snout. Tiny nostrils sniffed at her. The little one could not quite see yet. She had hatched just the other day. Everything was still big and new. Mother and daughter were still bonding and would do so for a very long time. The hatchling was pudgy and perfect, looking very much like her mother.

Chrysalis still had her kingdom, still had her subject, even if the sum consisted of a prison cell and her only child. It was enough for her to maintain the pride she had been groomed to have. She imagined life without the link to be a maddening, lonely one.

She wondered if her subjects would rescue her. Her hive was a fickle thing, as was any changeling community. The most powerful matriarchs selected a queen to lead. Chrysalis had been chosen as the others were simply too old to lead. As a queen, she had unparalleled and unquestioned power. Her inexperience had cost her greatly. More than likely, she was shunned, stripped of her crown. Another royal would take her place.

The Equestrians wanted to know more about changelings. There were so many questions, so much fear. They were indeed afraid.

And Chrysalis had beaten their living embodiment of the Sun.

The little hatchling chirped again, breaking the imprisoned queen from her inner musings. She was hungry and service was inches away. Chrysalis was happy to oblige, lifting one of her holed forehooves and bringing it to her hungry daughter. From one of her holes oozed a jelly-like substance. It was a small dollop, perhaps no larger than a teaspoon. The hatchling’s nose caught scent and she eagerly began flailing her hooves in some sort of locomotion. It was ungainly, awkward, and adorably cute. Within moments, the little changeling latched on to the larger changeling’s hoof with her own, her toothless maw ravenously inhaling love in a jelly.

Chrysalis hid the whole scene. No doubt that miserable Twilight Sparkle was watching, taking notes, and not letting a mother enjoy a peaceful moment with her daughter! The purple paragon pony perplexed and provoked Chrysalis on sight. She had not seen Celestia's prized student for nearly a month. Chrysalis was glad for that.

Atalanta was the size of a newborn kitten. She was very small and very weak. Chrysalis was violently protective of her child. The first attempt to observe the hatching had nearly ended in serious injury. Even with her magic greatly muted, the imprisoned Queen was powerful. The guards discovered she was quite capable of shrugging off magic intended to incapacitate and stun.

Chrysalis would always cherish the moment in her life when she stood guard over her hatching egg while a group of scientists cowered in the corner of the room. The guards had been tossed aside like rag dolls. It took the arrival of Princess Luna to calm the situation down.

One look at the enraged queen protecting her young, her wings flared and fangs bared, eyes blazing with unbridled fury was enough. Luna ordered the guards out and plucked the scientists from the room. A sincere apology from the Alicorn to the changeling was barely accepted.

That was still a fresh memory. Chrysalis grinned as she produced more syrupy love for Atalanta. She leaned forward, inhaling her daughter’s scent. An adorable squeak between gulps of jelly sent wonderful motherly shivers down her spine. Despite her current state, Chrysalis found herself for the moment content.

“Mommy hates writing,” she said to her daughter. Atalanta ignored her mother, instead gorging herself on her second helping as though the first had never been. “Should Mommy write the nasty ponies the story of her life?” Her gaze shifted, eyeing the sheaf of paper on the low desk before her from between gaps in her mane.

Atalanta burped.

“I know they don’t deserve it, but Mommy finds herself bored.”

The hatchling flopped on her side, licking her lips before promptly falling asleep behind a mighty yawn. The queen took a moment to see the back of her daughter’s throat. It was such a cute thing to see.

Chrysalis sighed, adjusting her daughter with her mouth as gently as possible and repositioning her back into the blankets. A small chirp of sleepy protest was her reward. The Queen cleaned up the small mess created by her daughter’s feeding.

“Who’s going to read it? That Twilight? That girl? Cadence? The Sisters?” She hummed, rolling her lips back and forth in a rather unstately fashion. “Maybe I’ll write about how I seduced Shining Armor. Wouldn’t that be a hoot?”

She had been asked if her daughter was the product of dallying with the then future husband of Mi Amore Cadenza. Chrysalis responded with an innocent, “A lady never speaks of such things. How rude!”

Of course, the statement got under a lot of skins. There was a lot of dislike for the Queen. Chrysalis didn’t care. She was a prisoner, not a slave. There would be defiance. Oh, my yes, there would be defiance despite the odds.

Chrysalis was a prisoner, but she was far from broken. Stupid, weak ponies...

“I am Chrysalis, Queen of the Changelings. I shall tell my story. Not because the ponies want to know.” She smirked, but it faded as she thought of her legacy. Chrysalis bent her neck towards her daughter, her thoughts churning with worry. Reaching down, she kissed the top of her daughter’s forehead.

“This will be for you.”Love Jelly... No matter how I think of it, it is still dirty as heck. Though, I can't think of an alternative.


Author's Note:

A special thanks to Magic Man and DJ_Neon_Lights for pre-reading, suggestions, and edits!

This story is pretty much preparation for the Sunverse. I want to use this as sort of a probe for the development I've put into the stories to come. It may or may not become cannon to what is to come, as I am always tweaking things here and there.


Chrysalis in prison.