Refined Starlight in a Broken Vessel

by the-pieman

Learning Experiences

Snuggling with Myrna is really comfortable and relaxing, but now that it’s been another ten or fifteen minutes my body wants me to get up and move.

I say as such, though I have to ask twice, and she decides to let me go. Almost literally, as she had wrapped me up in a few coils of her tail-body by that point. I’m totally fine with that part, I just needed to get mobile again which did require her permission, for lack of a better phrase.

“If you wanna do that again though, I’m fine with it.” She says, kinda lazily, drowsiness evident in her voice. “You’re warm.”

“I’ll remember the offer is on the table, then.” I smile as I hop down from the tree. I stumble a tad as my feet hadn’t entirely woken up yet, but at least I didn’t faceplant. I give a mighty stretch and shake my limbs a bit before we trade one more goodbye and I get on my way.

The outer edges of town are pretty quiet, away from the usual bustle. For a small town, it’s pretty active and almost loud at times. Speaking of, there seems to be a bit of noise coming from further into town at the moment. Fairly typical, and yet... something feels off. Like something in the atmosphere, like when I can ‘feel’ that it’s raining somewhere nearby. I don’t hear screams but... I guess if you live somewhere long enough you can sense when things are amiss.

Not that strange or even dangerous situations aren’t all that amiss here in Ponyville; weirdness magnet that the townsfolk attest it is. Maybe it’s nothing. But... couldn’t hurt to check it out, probably.

Yeah, there’s definitely something going on. Some of these ponies look agitated and confused, some even scared... but there isn’t any screaming. A random stallion approaches me quickly, looking a little panicked. “Anthony! We could use a hero right now.”

I hold my tongue at correcting his improper use of the title for the sake of getting to the point faster. “What’s going on, exactly?”

“There’s a... a bug-pony in town! W- w- we don’t know what to do!” The guy is looking more shaken than he was just a minute ago.

“A changeling?” He confirms with a nod, but doesn’t seem to be sure if it is the case or not. “And what’s it doing here?”

“We don’t have any idea, it’s just stalking around... menacingly.”

I frown a bit. “Is it actually doing anything menacing or are you all scared of it?” He pauses for several moments, a ‘gears turning slowly’ look on his face as he just stammers a bit. I interrupt his thinking to get to the bottom of this faster. “Just take me to it, I’ll see what’s up.”

“Uh, r- right, okay!” He leads me to a nearby part of town and I see a bunch of ponies trying to go about their day while giving a wide berth to a changeling walking down a major street. This, of course, makes the populace anything but productive. The changeling has the green highlights indicative of the Everfree hive which, if I recall, is still under the treaty preventing them from legally using disguises in public; so if it wanted to be in Ponyville for some reason or another, obviously it would startle the prey species that live here at the sight of their insectoid physiology.

The changeling itself just seems to be mostly ignoring the ponies and just wandering, looking around. Its gaze lands on me, which isn’t hard with me standing half-again as tall as the ponies, and it seems to snap to attention. I make my way towards it and it moves to close the distance, causing ponies in its path to scurry even faster. Few of them even register that I’m here and it’s almost irritating how twitchy they are.

The stallion that was by my side makes a hasty retreat once the changeling is within several meters of me, and I figure that this is just a huge misunderstanding, fueled by xenophobia, given that the changeling is not at all aggressive and doesn’t even seem interested in the ponies.

“Hey there.” I talk first since it’s been pretty quiet thus far, barely making a sound.

“Greetings, Anthony.” it replies with that odd, almost inaudible trilling noise that underlines changeling speech when talking. “I was sent to retrieve you.”

Alright, so it’s here for me, explaining why he gave little concern to the populace. “You need me for something? Ren ask for me?”

The changeling drone nods. “Indeed. Queen Renaissance has requested your presence, and sent me to relay that request. I tried asking your whereabouts from the townsfolk but they... weren’t much help.” A few ponies slow down a bit when they see me talking to the changeling, but hastily move on once their requisite rubbernecking instinct is appeased.

“I can see. Well let’s head back to the hive, then.” I recall the way to the forest and then the hive from this part of Ponyville, so I end up leading. “Did Ren say what she needed me for?”

The changeling shakes its head. “No. I was only instructed that you were requested immediately, but not urgently, and that I was to ensure you are informed this is not an emergency situation.” the changeling says, toneless aside from the buzzing in its voice which does seem to shift up and down as it speaks.

“Alright. Well, guess we’ll see when we get there.” I think about the possibilities as we get to the big, shaded trees of the forest. “Anything new going on, any notable changes being made?”

“... Do you wish for an itemized list, or would you prefer it organized by time of events?”

I raise an eyebrow as we move through the undergrowth. “That much changing, huh? Well, at least Ren’s making things happen, which is good.” I pause for a moment. “It is good, right? She isn’t having troubles or just changing things for the sake of change, yeah? There’s actual progress in some direction or another?”

The changeling doesn’t speak up for several minutes of us walking. “... There are things the Queen is doing that I agree with; most of the changes are in this category.” the changeling doesn’t elaborate further, which sounds like someone who’s used to dissent being answered with a guillotine.

“Not taking to the other changes so well, I assume.” I say as we navigate our way around the trees growing denser as we got further in, as well as it getting darker due to little light shining through the thick leaves of the gnarled trees. “I mean, that’s fair. Nobody’s gonna like every change that’s made. She’s at least getting along alright though, yeah?”

“I would not question my Queen’s orders.” the changeling says, tight-lipped. “Though yes, she is growing stronger with time.”

I roll my eyes a bit. “Okay, I’m gonna be straight with you. You guys seem alright, but you’re giving off some really strong Vulcan vibes here. Do you actually act like subservient, emotionless robots by nature, or are you just that scared to mention that you have negative thoughts on things? I mean, I’m not trying to be harsh here but... feeling scared to voice an honest opinion doesn’t seem like it’s very fair or comfortable.”

The changeling frowns and sighs a little. “... Old habits die hard, and the Old Queen lived much longer than most other Queens could have.”

I nod, understanding. “Yeah, I guess that makes sense. You don’t just transition from a tyranny to a... renaissance, overnight. Also yes, that was kinda the reasoning for the name I chose if it wasn’t obvious.” I think about that. “Was it... was it okay that I gave her a name? I mean, was it ‘my place’ to?”

“No others had the right, and it meant the Queen would have a chance to try changing us for the better, instead of the alternative.”

“Alright, cool. I just don’t really understand what’s culture to you guys and what was only ‘not okay’ because of Chrysalis. You’re a bit hard to get a bead on sometimes, which... aside from being insectoid rather than mammalian, is likely why the ponies have trouble with you. Heck, if any of Ponyville knew you had a hive this close to their town they’d probably flip their lids.”

The changeling doesn’t comment back on that, and we arrive at a well-hidden cave behind a stand of trees - one of which is nothing more than an illusion, blending in perfectly with the other trees to either side of it.

“Redecorated.” I mention, before elaborating. “Entrance wasn’t this hidden last I was here. Figured you wouldn’t need it that much considering you’re this deep into a place nobody even close by thinks is a good idea to go tromping through. Any reason for the camo?”

“Manticores.” is the tonally-vapid reply I get.

“Okay, I know those exist, but I don’t really know what they are for sure. Lion-bear-scorpion-bat things, yeah? Or am I just mixing my mythology with your nature again?”

“Lion, scorpion, and bat. The males have venomous stings, while the females can launch their stings as projectiles, but don’t have venom.”

“Fair enough.” I reply as we begin the descent down into the cave, which took it’s natural conversion to the weird material that changelings apparently made structures out of. The same bioluminescent lights from before lit the way. So this part was pretty much the same.

“... Also, they like roosting in narrow-mouthed caves, for security.” the changeling says as we slip into the cave, which is only about twice as wide as my shoulders at the entrance. Inside the hive itself, though, the walls have grown smoother and less menacing - they seem less like a Meat Level in a video game gone rancid, and more like they were made from black rubber cables fused together.

At least they look cleaner now, thank Tzeentch. I figure I’d just let this changeling lead me to wherever Ren was at the moment, as I still wasn’t fully familiar with the interior of this place, especially with the retexturing on the walls

The floors are still pretty steeply sloped though, and occasionally I find a foot slipping on the smoother sections of floor. It’s like walking on plastic or ceramic tiles in flip-flops - sometimes, I have perfect grip. Sometimes my feet want to say hello to the ceiling.

Though to be fair, I’ve been wearing the same pair of shoes for about six years at this point... I’ve probably worn down the treads quite a bit, especially now that paved roads are too pricey or unmanageable for Ponyville. I should probably figure out a way to get new shoes before these totally crap out on me.

No problem, though, because we make it down to a large crossroads in the tunnels; it’s also much more flat and level at this point onwards, with the three paths of the crossroads branching further in various directions. “This way to meet with the Queen.” the changeling tells me, pointing ahead and off down one fork, looking no different than the others - it must be incredibly easy to get lost down here.

Unless, you know, you built the tunnels yourself. Speaking of... it’s rather handy that all of these tunnels are tall enough that I don’t have to duck at all, and I’m only a couple centimeters taller than Chrysalis was... and I doubt she’d have needed to use all of these tunnels on a regular enough basis. Oddly convenient for me, I must say.

I get to the room at the end of the tunnel and I hear a small conversation. “Queen, where would you like me to set this lampshade?”

“Oh, just hang it anywhere.” I hear Ren reply a bit tiredly, and a little bit of shuffling follows. I figure I can just enter.

“Hey there.” I say aloud, wondering if that’s even an ‘acceptable’ way to announce my presence. Eh, she doesn’t seem like the uptight kind. “You called? Or, rather, sent a messenger?”

Ren, turning at the sound of my voice, visibly brightens and smiles. “Anthony! Yes, it is g-good to see you again.” she seems a little bit frazzled, and her mane, while limp, is at least not looking like it’s a few scratches from falling out. Beside her throne (which looks hideously uncomfortable, and there’s visible marks in the floor from where what appears to be a larger throne was removed) is two guard changelings, standing stoically as medieval-style guards seem to always be portrayed.

Then again ‘Extreme competitive poker face’ seems to be the changeling default expression, so they don’t look all that much more ‘deadpan’ than anyone else beyond Ren. Also, Ren has the benefit of having pupils so... that helps with expressiveness. Either way...

“So, how’ve you been doing? I hear you’ve made some changes around.” I ask, looking for a specific decoration to point out in particular as ‘new’ but I come up empty so I just give a noncommittal gesture towards nothing in particular.

“Oh, ah, y-yes, I’ve been trying many things... I won’t simply exile changelings at random, but I still need to f-feed them, and... well, that’s not important right now. We have also m-managed to get all of the ponies who had been captured returned to the princess!” Rensays, grinning widely and with an obviously eager, puppyish expression of hopeful joy on her face.

I nod in approval. “Of course, make sure any abduction incidents are resolved.” I do make one correction to a mistake she made. “Though it’s princesses. They have two, with both Luna and Celestia... it’s... the diarchy thing is weird but they make it work. Anyways, anything else you’ve been doing?”

“O-oh! Right. I have been expanding the hive’s chambers for housing all the m-members... there’s not enough space, but since we had to recall all infiltrators and soldiers...” She pauses to think for a few moments. “Actually, m-maybe it would be best if you got a full tour? One of my g-guards can take you!”

I shrug. “Alright. That works. It does help things to know you guys better. Being more open, while not exactly something to lead with, will be important for getting the ponies to be... Well, to make sure they don’t freak out when they see a ‘bug-pony’ wandering around their streets. They’re a skittish bunch. Need ‘saving’ from anything that doesn’t smell right or walk right or... you get the idea.”

Ren nods. “Is that why you carry that sword everywhere?” she asks, pointing to my hip.

I pause. Sword? When..? I have that sword Gladius left behind. Waitaminute... Berry said she had it and then suddenly it was next to me... I leave it in the library, and now its on my hip complete with a sheath for it. Great, the Lyre I can leave behind in a safe place but this one decides it wants to follow me around. “Uh... sure, let’s go with that.” I say. “Monsters and anything monstrous that needs dealing with, I’m the guy they call.”

Ren nods again. “That makes sense. Anyways; Guard, escort Anthony wherever he desires. Though, keep him away from the new constructions - they’re not stabilized yet.” she aims the last bit at me with an apologetic tone.

“Eh, not everything works after you got left with a fixer-upper and all that.” I say as the guard moves to me and leads me out of the throne room. “So, last I was here, you guys had... what amounted to a giant open room, and pretty much everything was connected to that like a hub. You turn that into a bunch of separate rooms, or you still have it?”

The guard shook his head. “No, the old antechamber collapsed shortly after you slew the Old Queen. Much of the rubble has been cleared out, but the room was deemed... unsalvageable. It’s considered off limits to all for safety reasons.” the guard says, walking along with a steady, ground-eating stride that moves deceptively fast for how slow it looks like he’s walking.

“Fair enough. Last I heard, Chryssi had pretty much the entire hive ‘structurally sound’ due to her own magic. I don’t get that, seems like it would be a huge drain to keep sustained. Then again, she seemed like the kind who bit off more than she could chew rather often.”

“She had great aspirations and incredible reach.” the guard stated. “Her grip, though... it was almost enough.”

I nod. “She was also a total nutter.” I add.

“Also true, though not necessarily a flaw on its own. Again, great aspirations, poor grip... even on reality at times.”

I nod. “But, you managed to salvage a decent amount of the place anyways from what I can tell, so it’s at least something you’re coming back from.” I note, for the sake of positivity. “What all do you have rebuilt and put together at this point?”

“The nurseries, communal rooms, information hall, and throne room are all finished; the Queen has us also working on an agrarium, though I don’t know how well that will work. We simply don’t have the knowledge to make it function as she wishes it to.” the guard says, rattling one thing off after another.

“Agrarium?” I ask. I... I know by the root words it has something to do with plants, but I don’t think agrarium is an actual term. I’m sure I’ve never heard it before.

“A holding chamber to simulate an agrarian environment. The same way a terrarium is for a land-based environment, and an aquarium is for an aquatic-based one.” the guard explains. Makes sense to me, at least.

“What were you thinking of growing in it? I mean... I recall from my last time here that you guys don’t... you don’t eat food.”

“No; we plan on raising basic foodstuffs there, and then raising a combination of rabbits and other smaller animals to provide sustenance based on their emotional output.” the guard pauses for a moment, face twisting a bit as we walk. “I don’t know if that’s even possible, though.”

I shrug. “No idea, but if it does you’d want the animal to be as happy as possible... but you’d need a varied garden setup for that. Rabbits particularly like alfalfa and asparagus, which grow in pretty different conditions.” I think about how they could get something like that working down here. “I mean, I guess Ponyville is a farming town so you could likely buy alfalfa from them... if you were allowed within ten meters of a shop that is.” The guard gives me an odd look. “I raised rabbits for a while. It’s... they’re nervous and picky, especially while infantile.”

“I’ll take your word for it - I’ve never worked with them.” the guard says, before stopping at another intersection. I feel like we’ve moved upwards somewhat, and the passage has been curving this whole time, but I’m not sure how much. “The nurseries are on the right, and some of the storerooms are on the left, though three of them are decommissioned now.”

“Speaking of... what would you guys need to stockpile? Other than, well, spare love. I mean, that just sounds weird to me as a concept but hey, if you can put in bottles... somehow, I figure you’d work on keeping extra for later. What else would you need? I guess seeds and tools for your uh, agrarium. If you need basic farming tips, I can help with that too by the way.”

“Mostly we store what little food we do eat, spare tools, construction supplies, medical supplies, and various forms of emergency supplies. We also used to keep captured individuals and any goods on them in those storerooms. Hence why three are no longer needed.”

“Hey man, you don’t need to associate with Chrysalis anymore. It was her idea to do shit like lock people in her closets. You had nothing to do with it, you can drop the ‘we used to’ thing. It just adds to subconscious negativity which... pretty sure Ren already has tons of as it is.”

“It still happened.” the changeling says, with no emotional inflection. That’s odd, since I swear I saw some minor facial reactions earlier... strange.

“Well sure it happened, but you didn’t have a say in it. ‘We’ implies you were complicit which, being brainwashed to hell and back, I’d find it difficult to twist up a story where you were all totally on-board with what she was pulling.” I point out. “You all are in the clear, so there’s no need to keep acting like you have to shoulder her blame.”

The changeling doesn’t reply, instead simply showing me to the first storeroom which, as advertised, is basically just stocked with a large amount of varied shelves, boxes, and crates - and all the shelves are molded from the same bundled-cords architecture or clearly taken directly from a warehouse somewhere.

“So you said you kept tools in here from before... shit hit the fan. What kind of tools do you need? Seems like you just sorta... build rooms yourselves.”

“Mostly things needed to maintain a disguise. None of it is necessary anymore, but it’s better to have it and not need it than need it and not have it. Besides, hammers have a lot of uses.” the changeling says.

“As do axes.” I agree. “And like you said, most aren’t needed anymore so I guess you don’t have that much stuff. So what else have you been working on? Not just around here but in general. I mean, you gotta have some form of plan to make living within the treaty’s restrictions actually feasible.”

“Several, I would assume - I’m a guard, not a planner. Still, the ones I do know of are the agrarium project, and an attempted integration; unfortunately, we’d need some ponies to willingly foster changelings, and that’s not going to happen without us being allowed to use our guises.”

“Tell me about it. I just wish they weren’t so darned skittish. I know why they are, prey instincts and all that. I mean, there is one shortcut I suppose. If you get a good chunk of them on your side the rest will follow along. Herd mentality. The problem is having them give you guys enough of a chance.”

The guard nods. “Indeed, we already knew that was a viable strategy. It’s how the Old Queen infiltrated Canterlot, after all.”

“The question is, how do we appeal you to them.” I say, thinking as we continue on. “I mean, I guess it was kinda easy for me. I don’t look that intimidating by their standards and I saved them from a monster, so I just got slapped with ‘hero’ status and I’m a-ok all of a sudden when, not ten days before, everyone in town had to pick their jaws off the floor after looking at me. Maybe... if you guys swooped in and got rid of a monster...”

“We’ve dispatched several; they’re part of the protein supplements for the nymphs and guards.”

“No, no. Publicly, like with a bunch of ponies watching. They need to see you doing a really good thing. They need to see you helping them. Like, if another monster ends up hitting the town or, Idunno, some unnatural wildfire starts up, you guys fly out of the forest and fix things and you’d have a pretty good ‘in’ after that. We’d just need a situation like that so you get your shot.” I think about it a bit more. “Probably do better to run that by Ren first, huh?”

“Hmm... I’ll bring it up to her if you don’t.” the guard says with a nod, proving he has some capacity for emoting and initiative. “Do you have any other advice while we head towards the first nursery, hatchery, and education chambers?”

“Not really. I’m just trying to think how to make what worked for me also work for you. Obviously we wouldn’t want to create a disaster just so you could fix it. Unfortunately it’s hard to plan for things like that since Ponyville is such a weirdness magnet. Could happen in a month, or ten weeks, or heck, an hour from now. You’d likely have to be stationed closer to the forest edge though. You’re pretty far away from town as it is so I doubt word gets to you very fast unless you’re, you know, already waiting for something to report.”

“Engineering a monster attack would be-”

“A pretty bad idea.” I interrupt quickly before a rogue idea gets a chance to spread. “I mean, unless you have total control over the situation from beginning to end, in which case... it wouldn’t take someone much smarter than Rainbow Dash to figure out that it was staged.” I point out. “If you do engineer some form of monster attack, it would have to be staged just right, and not be terribly obvious. And nobody should get hurt. Collateral damage is fine by me but purposefully doing something that ends up with folks getting hurt isn’t a good idea if your end goal is to win them over. Not to mention that you’ll need to make sure you uphold the treaty while doing any of it.”

The changeling nodded, clearly still thinking. “The queen will have an idea, I’m sure.” the guard says.

“Sure, but everyone can benefit from a think-tank. I’d be all for helping but just us might not be enough. I’d drag Celly here by the ear if she weren’t oh-so busy. Or Twilight, if the mention of changelings didn’t give her minor conniptions.”

“We aren’t allowed to kidnap ponies anymore, so no think-tank.” the changeling guard says.

“...I just mean a group of people who get together to puzzle out a problem. You know, like a brain trust. Not a literal think tank... or whatever you mean by a think tank requiring kidnappings. I just meant we need smart people who can come up with plans to work as a team on how to make you guys more socially acceptable without breaking Celestia’s laws.”

“Oh. You’ll need to explain that one to the Queen, then.” the changeling pauses, then gestures towards a door; the door is more wood than I’ve seen in one place the entire time I’ve been down here this trip.

“Yeah... and find smart people who’ll be emotionally capable of assisting and aren’t too wrapped up in ‘more important things’ and such.” I look at the door, which is already odd since there’s been a distinct lack of doors here aside from the storerooms. Everything just seemed connected by open archways. “I take it this setup is so no wandering rugrats get out unsupervised?”

“When freshly hatched, they are very prepared to defend themselves if need be.” the guard says, while visibly checking the armor over his lower legs. “And remember that if they spit on you, simply discard the garments quickly and calmly, and avoid panicking - most of the grubs will home in on panic.”

I pause at the warning, keeping in mind that so far he has not even tried making any jokes. So he’s serious. “So... making sure none of the younguns get out unsupervised is important... as I stated. Well... I guess worst comes to worst I’ll need to get another new pair of pants. Alright, let’s go.” I am rather curious to know what they actually look like considering their physical structure is mammalian but everything else about their biology is insectoid.

The changeling raps three times on the door, then unlatches it, immediately lighting his horn and using a wave of crackling emerald-green magic that flares like it’s on fire as several hissing, angry-sounding creatures are shoved away from the door. These infantile changelings are, simply put, maggots. Foot long grubs with segmented, worm-like bodies, two little hoof-like forelegs, and tiny heads that are identical to that of a grown changeling on a smaller scale. Once they see that the guard is there, most of them begin to make surprising speed away and hide in the various nooks and crannies of the chamber, a few climbing up into the almost cartoonishly large hollows in the legs of another changeling standing in the room, looking up at us. A few of them stay nearby, one looking towards the guard and the other towards me.

“I’ll admit... while they certainly look larval, I didn’t exactly imagine this.” I say as I look at the weird little things. “So do they just mature into looking like you guys at a certain age, or do they... pupate?”

The caretaker spoke up instead of the guard, looking towards me. “Oh, they pupate at about three weeks of age and then grow rapidly, unless they are neophyte queens.” the caretaker’s voice is notably more feminine than the guard’s, whom I’ve only been guessing at the gender of so far. “The common pupas will then be sorted based on what composition of tasks will be needed in the coming months.” the caretaker also seems more friendly than the guard, at least by her tone.

“So like ants. They get assigned jobs based on what sort of task you need. That’s why you can’t take ‘infiltrators’ and just give them a new job, since they’ve been essentially outlawed?”

“Uhm... sort of yes. But also no? When pupating, we feed them differently. Different emotional loads result in different changelings - some soldiers, some infiltrators, some workers, and so on.” the changeling says.

I nod, sort of understanding. “So the job they have as an adult is given to them while they’re cocooning. Do they still eat love or whatever when they’re... grubs? I’m honestly not sure what to call them at any given stage, I’m just using what I know of from bees and ants and stuff.”

“Oh, yes, they are grubs in this stage.” she explains, some of the little things waddling/wriggling through and around her legs, “When they are given different emotional loads, it affects their development towards a particular subtype. I... don’t know the specifics of why each one does that. I’m just a worker.”

“Alright... sorry I’m just trying to... figure this stuff out. I’m thinking that the ponies would be less likely to run away from you screaming if someone could explain it to them.” I sigh a bit. “Not sure how much of this I’m gonna retain fully enough to recite, but... I just think they need education. Pretty obvious they won’t educate themselves by talking to one of you at least.”

“Maybe not; perhaps a teacher from the hive can be sent to educate them? If they are held in cocoons, they will remember the teachings better!” the worker suggests, smiling brightly.

I bite my lip. “Even if that’s true... I don’t think they’d appreciate it. Just a funny feeling I have. Twi still gets flashbacks whenever I bring up Chrysalis around her so...” I consider another option. “But a changeling dedicated to education who knows a lot about changelings could be useful. Just... convince a bunch of ponies to stick around while it explains the truth behind the propaganda. That might work.”

The worker nods. “That does sound reasonable.”

“I may talk to Ren about that. We’re just trying to figure all this out so it’s less of a shitshow. I mean, you guys don’t seem that bad just... really really weird. But hey, if you’re gonna be stuck under Celly’s metaphorical thumb anyways we should think of a way to make that a livable position.”

The two changelings nod agreeably. I feel something tug on my pant leg, and look down to see that the grub that had been looking at me earlier is currently holding onto my pant leg with its teeth and slowly was trying to shake its head and tear the pant leg asunder, like a small doberman with a mailman’s leg.

Actually, with its adorable little growls, that’s a pretty apt description. Okay, adorable might be too strong a word but it’s at least... endearing. Still, I don’t want to need new pants if I can avoid it. I give my leg a short jerk but the thing is already latched on. “So... any way to get this thing off?”

The caretaker looks and nods. “Yes; if you grab the grub in an aura and carefully apply pressure on points 1-C and 3-B, the grub will let go.” she informs me, none of which explains anything that I need to know, and doesn’t include her, y’know, actually doing what she’s talking about.

“I don’t have magic, nor a readily-available understanding of infantile changeling anatomy... but I do have a friend who’d likely tie me to a chair if I ruin another set of clothes... some help would be appreciated, is what I’m getting at.”

“Oh! Yes, at once.” the worker says, before moving closer to me, several grubs still in her leg-holes. Her horn lights and I notice it’s a slightly lighter green than the guard’s, even as she grabs the grub by the head, flaring right at the spots where the little changeling’s jaws would meet the head, on a more humanoid structure... so basically, the same method used to pry a bulldog off of something.

After a few moments the thing lets go and is carried back to the caretaker. I check my pants and... well, they’re ripped. But not unpatchable at least, just some slight tearing. “Alright, well I think I’ve had enough...” I try to think of a proper word to use. “Engagement for the time being. Maybe move on with the tour now, yeah?”

“At once.” the guard-ling said, and turned to begin leaving, heading for the next door in line, on one side of the hatchery or nursery chamber, whichever this is. He leads me in through another banded wood door, coming out the other side into... well, it looks like a bunkhouse for small, pony-sized children, and is populated as such... but with changelings. Changeling foals... uh... nymphs, I’m pretty sure. Several of them are play-fighting, some are visibly stalking each other, and two are in a literal hissing match, slowly stalking a circle around a point between them and hissing non-stop. A small group goes by, followed by a smaller nymph, who stumbles and starts to fall. Without even a cry for help, the smaller nymph is picked up by a green glow cast from the four horns of the leading nymphs of normal size, setting the little one back on its hooves and up with the others, before they all start running off again.

“Wow... the kids pretty much just take care of themselves, huh.” I note in surprise. “I mean, you probably still have to give them food and stuff but... you get a room full of human kids like this and it’d be a madhouse in under an hour.”

The guard doesn’t comment, but the room is fairly noisy, so if he wasn’t raising his voice I wouldn’t hear him. Oddly, there’s almost no conversations going on - most of the nymphs were entirely without any vocalizations, the only sounds come from hooves scuffing on the floor and walls and ceiling (they can literally drive each other up the walls!), as well as humming wings and crackling magic, all being accompanied by many hissing and spitting like cats.

They’re like magical spider-cat-kid-things. Which is terrifying. But hey, at least they aren’t screaming at the tops of their lungs or throwing stuff all over the place so technically better behaved in general than your average kindergartner.

“What makes them so... non-verbal? I mean, I met a nymph a while back and it didn’t say much but... more than this at least.”

“Oh, most of them are speaking with their pheromones and emotion sensing. With both in use, they can more or less speak without speaking. Doesn’t work with non-changelings though, you don’t produce many pheromones that we are able to receive, and what we can read is often a jumbled mess.”

“Good to know, I suppose...” I’m not entirely sure how to respond to that. Is that a good thing? A bad thing? Just an observation? Idunno with these guys just yet. I guess it makes sense if they have a form of language all their own and ‘speaking’ is only for non-changelings, it does seem a bit odd. That said... “So you can’t like, you know, read my emotions or anything, just each others’?”

“No, I can taste your emotions very well. You don’t do much to hide them.” the guard corrects me.

“So the pheromone thing is different. I mean yeah, bugs are more tuned to that than mammals. I just find it... weird. This is what I’m talking about, you guys being all insectoid makes integration pretty difficult. You’re just so... different. Even at a really young age apparently. Not a bad thing just... a large gap to bridge.”

“I don’t really know what you mean.” the guard says.

“I mean getting ponies to trust you is an uphill battle. I mean, if a pair of you guys can hold an entire conversation, and none of them can even tell what’s going on, it just sort of looks like you’re starting at each other in silence and... well that kinda weirds folks out.” I hope I’m getting the point across. “They can’t figure out what a hiss or buzzing your wings or anything means.”

“Oh, hissing is just them being angry. Wings buzz when you flap them really fast.” the guard says, nodding as if he was delivering sage advice.

“Exactly my point, nobody knows any of that. That’s why I think one of the most important steps towards integration is for the ponies to know how you do things and why you do the things you do. It’s all weird alien-stuff to them, essentially.”

“Understood. I will relay that to the Queen when the tour is done. Unless you do it first.” he agrees.

“Yeah... I can think of a bunch of things that you need to do to make this all work. The problem is how to make it happen and what to do first.” I sigh. “So I assume just one more spot after this?”

“Yes, the education chamber.” At the guard’s statement, several of the nymphs nearby stop dead in their tracks and give a look only small children can give upon hearing someone is willingly going to school.

“...I take it your idea of education doesn’t involve a whiteboard or geography.”

“I do not know what either of those things are.”

Comments

[ForgottenBackgroundPony]

Mien Gótt! I look away for a second and all of a sudden I'm blasted by new chapters. I need to take temporary hiatuses from reading more often! Or wait... that... Hm.