The Last Changeling War

by Coyote de La Mancha

Chapter Fifteen: Simple Farmers, Nothing More. (The Third Front)

“Husband?”

Igneous Stone Pie looked up from the rock formations he’d been contemplating. “Aye?”

“A package has arrived. From the sisters.”

The patriarch frowned. “How, now? What do the sisters want of us?”

“There is a note,” Cloudy Quartz said. And, unfolding the missive, she read:

“Good ponies,

“We hope that this message finds you in good health, and that your farm is doing well. Alas, we have dire news. We have reason to believe that a swarm of Changelings are preparing to invade your land from the south.

“We, of course, have no intention to interfere with your affairs upon your own land…”

Igneous nodded. “That is mannerly of them, and just. Good that they yet honour the division of our ways from theirs, from so long ago.”

Cloudy Quartz nodded as well, continuing, “…though, as friends and neighbors – good neighbors, we hope and strive to be – we do offer our aid should you wish it. In any event, as a token of our own goodwill and our desire for your family’s continued well-being, we hope this gift will be received in the spirit it is intended. We have also taken the liberty of alerting your daughter Pinkie Pie, so that she would have time to journey there and fight alongside you.

“Enclosed is a greenfire candle. If you need anything—”

Her husband waved away the rest. “I doubt we shall, though t’was a kind gesture. Good of the sisters to recall our ways. They were often polite ladies, for all that they yet rule over others. What is the gift they sent?”

His wife opened the box, then set it on the ancient table before him.

“Hm,” he frowned. Peering closer, the entire box seemed filled with rubies. Large, flawless, and well-fashioned. Then, he nodded.

“The sisters must think our foes to be strong, indeed. Very well,” he said, turning towards the door. “I shall tell our children that we have a war before us. On the other hoof, we shall see Pinkamena again, which is no bad thing.”

Opening the door, he gazed out towards the horizon.

“Set the table and divide the meal, will you my love?” he said. “Our enemies will send many to run through our lands, it seems, and it is a grim task that lies before us.”

---

The devastation was total.

General Mandible shouted through the dust that flooded the battlefield, trying to rally his troops, desperately searching for any means of restoring order. The pink one was an Element bearer, and he’d been briefed in case he encountered her or any of her fellows.

But nothing had prepared him for this.

A howling wind swept away the last of the dust, revealing a wasteland of deep gorges and wide, shallow craters. Changeling warriors lay everywhere, whether alive or dead he couldn't tell.

Six ponies. Earth ponies. Unarmed, against three units, each one a hundred strong.

How? his mind screamed. How is this even possible?

Staring about himself wildly, he also realized, I’m the only one left.

Perhaps a hundred feet away, the enemy had re-grouped. Five drab little ponies and one bright pink joke. They stood, staring down the incline at their invaders. Breathing heavily, covered in sweat, their looks unreadable. Then, the bearded one - the leader, apparently - stepped forward.

“Friend,” he said, “I would not wish thee harm for all the world. But thou art standing precisely where I am about to tread.”

Mandible barely took to the air in time, as the old pony launched himself into the sky, coming down in a grey blur where the changeling had stood less than a second before. The ground split with a thunderous roar, collapsing and falling into itself, forming a massive canyon that continued to widen and deepen with every deafening moment. The air filled with dust and grit, obscuring all vision as the stony ground split on and on, impossibly spreading itself for yards, then tens of yards, then hundreds, then a mile or more, stretching back southwards from where the changeling army had come.

As the terrible, echoing sound gradually faded into silence, Mandible realized that he had stopped moving. He’d been blasted out of the air, rolled, finally come to rest where he was, curled into a fetal position in a desperate, instinctive hope to survive the elemental onslaught that surrounded him.

Cautiously, he opened his eyes.

The six ponies were closer to him than before, despite the distance that he’d flown. The massive canyon was behind them, surrounded by other battle damage and desolation.

Impossibly, they were just finishing piling his troops in two mounds of chitinous bodies, to either side of the canyon’s nearest tip.

All of them.

And, so far as he could tell, each and every one of his soldiers was somehow still alive. Most were wounded, some grievously so. But so far as he could tell, all of them were, to varying degrees, beginning the struggle towards consciousness.

“Please come not to our lands again with violence in your hearts,” the bearded one said. “Keeping you all alive is hard work, and we yet have farming to do.”

Then, the pony just turned his back on Mandible, and began walking away. The other ponies, without a word, followed suit. Only the pink one looked back, just enough to give a good-natured shrug, as if to say, Yeah, sorry about that guys!

The changeling general just stood there, staring, until the earth ponies had vanished over the rise.

To his left and right, some of his soldiers began to try to stand. A few succeeded.

One of the younger ones managed to pull himself out from under his fellows and staggered over to where Mandible was.

“Sir? What happened?”

Mandible swallowed, still staring.

“We lost,” he heard himself say.

Confused, the young drone glanced from his commanding officer to the vast fissure in the ground, and back.

“Sir?”

“We lost,” Mandible said again. “It’s over. The war is over.”

“But, but sir!” the other changeling insisted. “We could regroup! We can still get back to the hive! Report to the queen! We…”

But the older changeling slowly shook his head.

“After today, I don’t think there’ll be a hive,” he said quietly. “Or a queen.”

“Then…” the drone faltered, looking at his superior in growing dismay. “Then, what do we do now?”

But the general didn’t move. He continued to stand, silent, as more of his drones began to regain consciousness and buzz about in confusion. The world seemed bigger, now, than it had ever been before. A dangerous place, filled with wilderness and enemies. Chaos, uncertainty and disorder. A world with no place left in it for his people.

Finally, in a voice strained and uncertain, he spoke.

“I… I don’t know.”

Comments

[Spamotron]

Well that kind of physical power partialy explains such a restrained lifestyle. Could you imagine one of the Pies getting tipsy at a party and giving what they intend to be just an enthusiastic slap on the back only to break somepony's spine? Though it does make you wonder how Pinkie hasn't killed anycreature by accident by now.

[Coyote de La Mancha]

11759911

When I think of the speed and strength that the other members of the Pie family usually walk around with day to day, I imagine Maud when she saved Pinkie from the falling boulder in the Maud Pie episode. That was not exhausting for her to the degree that battling a Changeling army was, of course... though for the latter the farmers had rubies to nom on before the fight, which distinctly helped.

As for Pinkie herself, part of her not having killed anypony yet is having being trained since birth to maintain constant restraint. Which, um, let us take a moment and contemplate that what we see in the TV series and these timelines is Pinkie being self-restrained.

But Pinkie also continually bleeds off energy through her constantly bouncing and etcetera. Without the Pies' constant "never show off or expend energy wastefully" philosophy to guide her, Pinkie ends up showing off the almost limitless energy that the rest of her family takes for granted. She also eats rocks much less than the rest of her family, limiting herself to sharing gems occasionally with Spike and nomming rocks when she visits home to be polite. So, she usually has far less energy and resilience than the rest of the Pie family, which is still a terrifying amount compared to most other ponies.

Even the Yaks respect Pink Pony.

[FanOfMostEverything]

War is Hell, but ponies are trying their best to heed their better angels in spite of it. And the poor changelings just cannot process what’s happening to them. None of this makes any sense! (Read: It contradicts what the queen taught them.)

Also, now I want to see Spike enjoying a meal with the Pies.

[Coyote de La Mancha]

11767958

Also, now I want to see Spike enjoying a meal with the Pies.

Yeah, I agree: that definitely needs to happen.

[BirdsBooksBrownies]

11759911
Now I'm imagining Death by Hug/Snu Snu being a horrifyingly real possibility where a particularly perky Pinkie's concerned