Chapter 12: Stepping Up and Stepping Down
Chamelia waited silently in the sky. Her eyes squinting, trying vainly to see the changelings she knew were below her. The only sign of they were there was a pillar of white smoke rising over the night greenery.
All around her, their wings buzzing furiously, were hundreds of changelings soaring above the treetops of the Everfree forest. For somewhere below the foliage was a battle.
With an additional thousand troops being sent to her for reinforcements, Chamelia had opted to spread her changelings out in one-hundred strong companies.
And after days of following tracks, one of these companies had finally just made contact with the enemy.
Companies A through C, prepare to dive on the white smoke. On my mark.
In response, her captains yelled out orders and the various changelings tightened their formations, their horns glowing green.
Mark!
Three hundred changelings wrapped themselves in magic and plunged, like a horde of comets crashing through the night air. Chamelia followed them, not as quickly, but with a barrier of her own.
Branches and leaves scratching past her shield, Chamelia emerged through the foliage and into the battlefield. Over craters left behind by her changelings plunging assault, blue-eyed and turquoise eyed changelings clashed. The numbers weren’t clear as the whirling melee had broken up into hundreds of individual duels between changelings, but their were far more of her changelings than that of the enemy’s.
Eyes scanning the field, Chamelia took in spears blocking blows from warhammers, poleaxes piercing carapace, shortswords cutting at limbs. She was not indifferent to them, especially when her changelings fell victim to them, but years of battle had hardened her to it and focused her attention on what was important.
There was no sign of the enemy queen. And from the movement of the blue-eyed changelings, they were trying to flee. Still, her fighters outnumbered them so if they were going to escape…
We see the queen. She’s laying down covering fire. Northwards of battlefield.
On my way. Companies G to I, I want you over here as soon as possible.
Chamelia winced as a bolt of magic slammed into her shield. Some changeling’s vain attempt to try to shoot her down. She didn’t even bother retaliating as she weaved through the trees.
Atop a knoll that rose ahead of her hostile queen was throwing everything she had in her arsenal. Fireballs, lightning bolts and beams of magic covered the headlong flight of the blue-eyed changelings that ran away, disengaging from the melee.
Chamelia, grimaced and transformed into a fly, and her vision expanded so she could see almost the entire battlefield around her. It was always a bit disorientating transforming into a species with a form so different from her own, which is why most changelings stuck to quadrapeds. Long practice and experience allowed her to easily accommodate to the shift, though, and she thrummed her wings.
Being a fly and fighting in dim light did mean that the hostile queen would have to squint to spot her, but Chamelia took no chances. She flew close to tree branches and often used the foliage to block the queen’s view of her. She zoomed so close to the wide-leafed boughs that she could see the crags of tree bark splitting.
Finally, she was in the perfect place, over the back of the enemy queen as she continued to fire. All she needed was to pounce.
Well, first she had to check her surroundings. It wouldn’t be the first time a queen had hidden guards watching for those that wanted to ambush her.
Luckily, Chamelia’s bug-eyed vision meant she had an excellent view of the squad of changelings hidden around the enemy queen. Chamelia could disable them, but it would be hard to do so.
No, she would try for a decapitating strike first and if that didn’t work, she’d engage them and then enemy queen.
Gathering her magic, Chamelia shed her disguise, which she imagined was quite a horrifying sight for the changeling queen’s guards. One doesn’t rarely see a full-grown ascended queen bursting out from nowhere.
Probably due to the mental link from her bodyguards, the queen reacted immediately, dodging sideways and throwing up a weak shield as Chamelia slammed down on her with a curse meant to cut through carapace. The shield shattered, but it did slow the slash of green down enough for the changeling queen to dodge. Another spell already charging on her horn, Chamelia summoned a wave of cold that caused frost to crystalize in the air and stuck the queen’s hair. With the queen moving sluggishly, Chamelia promptly formed her magic into a hard lance and stabbed it at the queen’s head.
A wide-eyed changeling slammed into his queen’s side, knocking her out of the way of the lance, which skewered him.
Chamelia cursed, but raised a shield around her as the bodyguards threw spears and spells at her. In that time, the queen ran away and disappeared into a portal.
The bodyguards were also fleeing too, pursued by yelling turquoise-eyed changelings. They had won the skirmish.
Yet, Chamelia could only feel bittersweet annoyance as she trotted to the dying changeling that had saved his queen.
“You have done well to protect your queen, and I am merciful. Tell me where is she heading to and I will try to save your life.”
The changeling spat at Chamelia’s hoof and sneered at her. “For… Queen… Ragnar.”
Ragnar? That wasn’t a name she had heard of before. Chamelia focused on her link with her hive. Did any of you hear the enemy mention a Queen Ragnar?
Yes, it appears to be their queen, mentioned one of the captains.
So that was true, but then who was she?
“Queen Ragnar… I have not heard of her,” said Sarar. “Then again, I was only one of several of Ranfeng’s daughters.”
“I’ll make inquiries with the Queens Council, but I think it’s unlikely she’ll show up. If her name meant any significance, no changeling would be stupid enough to reveal it,” said Thera.
Back in her tent, lying on her bedroll, Chamelia frowned. She could feel a… strained tension in Sarar and Thera’s voices.
Not to mention, her granddaughters and Facere hadn’t spoken yet.
“Thank you Thera, do you have anything to report?”
Silence and a mix of emotions seemed to course down the link between them. Chamelia could taste acrid fear, bitter sadness and searing rage, but the reason was unsaid.
“There was another attack,” said Sarar. Chamelia could hear her inhale. “Facere’s been wounded along with an entire squad of changelings when he went out patrolling with Mirage.”
She was on her hooves in an instant, every muscle in her body braced.
“How badly?” Chamelia demanded.
“Facere’s awake, but groggy. The infiltrator set a trap that collapsed part of a tunnel on the patrol. Luckily, Mirage suspected a trap and put up a shield, so he’s relatively unharmed, and the others just have various bruises and cuts in their carapaces. Mirage is fine too, but she’s…”
Chamelia heard Thera took a breath. “After the infiltrator set off their trap, it tried to go for the nursery. However, we managed to get there and stay on guard. So… it disguised itself as a changeling guard and assassinated the changeling who was supposed to replace its shift. Somehow it got the day’s pass phrases.”
“What happened? Are my daughters—”
“They’re fine. Mirage… well after the first attack, she was feeling nervous and so visited your daughters. Because of the attack, she was feeling on edge, so decided to do a disguise check on the guards when she sensed some changeling who disdained her cuddling Alternia. The infiltrator fled, and Mirage pursued and tried to engage.”
Sarar, sounding rather perplexed, cut in. “And somehow the infiltrator overpowered Mirage.”
“What?”
“Broke through her shield and threw her with a blast of magic.” Thera sighed. “Mirage is not taking the double attack well, especially since she apparently anticipated the trap and the infiltrator’s movement before we did.”
Setting aside her admiration for her granddaughter’s alertness aside, Chamelia frowned. “What do you mean she is not taking this well?”
“Mirage is terrified. She managed to explain what happened to us, but now she’s locked herself in her room without another word. Kyria’s trying to talk to her.” A frustrated growl from Sarar came over the link. “Chamelia, who exactly are Mirage and Kyria?”
“They’re my granddaughters—”
“Yes I know, but where do they come from? I cannot figure them out. Mirage is strategically minded and a competent fighter, but she seems… I’ve never seen a changeling queen so young suffer battle fatigue. Kyria seems far more level-headed, but she lacks much of the combat training you expect a queen her age to have.”
“Sarar, Thera, I know you are both curious, but I cannot disclose this information. I would like to but… no. I simply cannot. I can only ask that you both trust in my judgement.”
Chamelia heard Sarar grumble, but as she expected, the queen didn’t protest… too much.
“I understand.”
“Perhaps another day, Chamelia?” asked Thera cheerfully.
“Maybe,” said Chamelia, quietly. “This infiltrator is proving a far greater threat than we thought. Both the skill it’s displayed and the now… its power… we might need to change our strategy.”
Kyria’s voice cut in, quiet, but firm. “That’s probably because this infiltrator is a queen.”
A while ago…
The mouth-wateringly warm scent of fried sausage, the fruity smell of cave flatbread filled the corridor. Kyria also brought a platter of carrots and wild apples, which she knew her sister liked.
All of this was part of her fifth attempt to coax Mirage out of her room.
“Mirage? I brought you some food. If you want it, you’ll have to open the door.”
The door, remained, like all the other times she had approached, firmly shut and like all the other times wasn’t even a sound.
“Please?”
Kyria sat down in front of the door, the platter held in her magic.
Taking a deep breath, Kyria grit her teeth and took in a deep breath. If Mirage was going to force her to annoy her to open the door, she might as well do it well. “Do you want to build a snowpony—”
The door opened and Kyria’s voice trailed off as she stared at her sister.
Because Mirage looked fine, if frowning a bit from . Her hair was done, she was clean, there were no food scraps in her mane. And when Kyria looked past Mirage, she could see the bedsheets were tangled, but the room itself was in perfect condition.
“Ice? Really?”
“Well… yeah.” Kyria scratched behind her ear. Ice was her favorite musical. “Mirage, you look… good.”
Mirage snorted, and that was when Kyria felt the first hint of something was wrong. The emotions that her sister was projecting were repressed, but she could still feel that fear.
“Come in Kyria… I need to talk to you.”
The younger princess gulped, but trotted in. Her sister took a seat on the floor, next to her bed and so she sat in front of Mirage, setting the platter down between them.
The princess sighed. “Kyria… I’m a mess right now.”
“Mirage… I know, but you saved mom, our aunts, and grandfather. You’ve already done so much.”
“Kyria, I had a panic attack before the trap went off.” That widened Kyria’s eyes and all the assurances she said fell from her open mouth.
“My instincts were that the trap wasn’t what it appeared to be and I was right, but I didn’t act properly. I lost control of my emotions.”
“But you fought off the infiltrator when he or she tried to attack our mother,” Kyria protested.
“I barely did, Kyria, and… I’m terrified of facing him, or her, again. The infiltrator broke my shield and my peytral...it was smoking, and the crystals...well, several are cracked.” Mirage shuddered. “The infiltrator was strong enough that it could kill me. It probably ran because it knew reinforcements were on the way.”
“Wait, but your peytral… was designed by Twilight Sparkle with assistance from Starlight Glimmer, Sunset Shimmer, and Shining Armor. I know it contains limited power, but you’re saying an infiltrator damaged it?” Kyria asked.
“Yes! That’s why I… I need time to rest, Kyria. I’m… I don’t want to fight. Not now, maybe later, but I need time. Space. Just…” Shutting her eyes, Mirage started to tremble. “Right now, I feel like the next time I come into combat, I’m just going to fall apart and start crying.”
“That’s… I… but—” the younger queen swallowed. “Okay.”
Mirage looked up from the ground, “Kyria?”
“Just realizing I’ve been… relying on you a lot more than I thought.” Kyria smiled weakly. “It’s easy not to be scared when your sister is doing her best to take the fight to the enemy.”
“Oh… Kyria… I’m—”
“It’s alright, I… I am a princess too, Mirage.” She exhaled, slowly, thinking back to what her mother had taught her, recalling all her lessons at the School of Friendship. “I can do this. I can represent us.”
Mirage pushed the platter aside and pulled her sister into a hug. “If you need my help, I will do what I can. We’re in this together, Kyria.”
She leaned into her sister’s shoulder. “Thanks, Mirage.”
“Sorry for abandoning you like this. I just… I need a day.”
She squeezed her sister and smiled. “I can hold on until then. Don’t feel… don’t feel ashamed that you need a moment to collect yourself, Mirage. You were supposed to stand down after all, until this kerfuffle happened.”
Mirage smiled. “Okay. Thank you, Kyria, for understanding.”
Letting go of her sister, Kyria trotted to the door. “Enjoy the food.”
“I will. Thank you.”
Shutting the door behind her, Kyria made her way to the meeting. She knew she was going to be late, but honestly she didn’t expect she’d be able to attend. Mirage’s… acceptance of her own condition gave her a moment to walk and think.
The infiltrator was exceptionally cunning, skilled, and had significant magical power. It also seemed to have a vendetta against Chamelia, and possibly Thera, given that she was targeted for the diversion.
Yet, the… choice of diversions seemed a bit odd. Not quite paying attention to exactly where she was going, Kyria devoted her thoughts to recalling what her aunt Luna had taught her about looking at the bigger picture.
“Kyria, in looking at a mystery that seems to have no answer, you must first look at the wider context of a situation, then you must question all of your assumptions, and rely on reason. Making assumptions are necessary for making quick decisions, but they can hinder your path to the truth.”
Truth… huh. What did Rarity say about finding the truth? Oh right, she was recounting how she deduced the culprit to a mystery…right, it was Wind Rider’s attempt to frame Rainbow Dash.
Oh? How did I realize it was Wind Rider? I followed what the evidence dearie. I looked for what seemed out of place, abnormal, and I tried to see how they might fit together.
Alright, so what has this infiltrator done?
She turned over the facts in her head, the first attack on the nursery, the poisoning of Thera, the tunnel collapse, and Mirage fighting the infiltrator. She ignored what they suspected about the enemy queen’s identity, that could come later.
Something clicked in Kyria’s head and she froze.
“Oh shit.”
“We’re dealing with a queen infiltrator,” said Kyria to those in the room and into the linking crystal. She was panting slightly, from having ran to the room. Sarar was looking at her in puzzlement, probably because she had never seen her without a disguise before.
Thera wasn’t frowning, but she seemed rather wary of the suggestion. “Kyria, that seems rather unlikely as it would pose significant risk for the queen here, and it would suggest there are two queens working together. This isn’t impossible, but there is no faction opposed to us.”
Deciding not to mention the damage done to the magical artefact her sister wore, Kyria drew on some other, rather good reasons. “The fact is that Mirage is an unascended queen and she was somehow overpowered by the infiltrator. I know my sister. She’s not going to be magically overpowered by a mere infiltrator. Then there’s the skill this infiltrator has shown. A queen would be easily capable of that.”
“But why put herself in such a dangerous position? Queens are capable of infiltrating targets, but this is Chamelia’s hive we’re talking about. It’s suicide,” said Sarar.
“Did you not try to kill my grandmother?” Kyria asked.
Sarar bristled. “I had no choice—Ah, I see your point. There might be extenuating circumstances.”
“Yes. I suspect this infiltrator, this queen, has a personal stake in this vendetta.” Kyria grimaced. “You’re not going to like my theory, but… let’s consider Thera’s poisoning. What poison was used?”
Chamelia prompted, “White Death.”
“Painful killer, but there are deadlier, and more common poisons, right?”
Thera nodded. “Due to the torture my mother put me through, I am mostly immune to many of them, but yes, there are some deadlier poisons that might have worked.”
“Let’s hold that thought for a moment and consider the tunnel collapse. The queen set up a trap to kill, but… why collapse the tunnel?”
“Why not? It’s easy,” said Sarar.
“But it’s not easy to kill changelings unless you collapse a lot of tunnel. Yes, I know Mirage had a shield up, which is why the patrol was only injured, but why didn’t the infiltrator just set up an explosive spell at the hooves of the patrol? It would have severely injured most of them.”
Sarar’s eyes widened. “Kyria, are you trying to say that this queen… has been toying with us?”
The changeling princess pursed her lips. “Not in that she’s leaving us alive on purpose, but her priority is to inflict as much pain on us as possible, while going for grandmother’s daughters. This queen… this infiltrator, is as emotionally involved as the queen who is fighting Chamelia in the Everfree forest, maybe even more.”
“This… this is a good theory, but if it’s true, then… why? And how? And most of all, who? Who are there two queens who want to hurt us so badly?” muttered Chamelia.
“You don’t think it’s Ranfeng?” asked Thera.
Sarar piped up. “I definitely don’t think it’s my mother. I already doubted she would work with any of her queen daughters and frankly, she’s not the type to play with her food. She goes for the kill. That and if it was Ranfeng, why is she continuing to go after Chamelia and not you Thera?”
“Why indeed would she go after Chamelia,” muttered Thera.
For a moment, Kyria thought Thera seemed to be on the cusp of realizing something important, but then the older queen shook her head in dismissal.
“Then who would it be?” muttered Chamelia.
Cloying, was the word to describe the silence that descended upon the four queens, even as they were separated by miles.
“I… perhaps we should focus on what we can do rather than what the enemy might be doing,” Kyria said quietly. It seemed like something her aunts Luna or Belladonna might say.
“That is a good idea. Chamelia, you said you managed to bring the enemy queen into battle?” Thera asked.
“A brief skirmish. We managed to rout them,” said Chamelia.
“Then I think we should keep at it. The more pressure we apply to the forces outside, the more desperate this infiltrator is going to get, and the more mistakes they might make.”
“Alright, I will do that, but you all should be extremely careful. Especially you and your sister, Kyria.”
“We will. Oh and… Mirage is fine, but she needs a day to collect herself.”
“Alright, let me know if she would like to talk,” said Chamelia, but Kyria could tell that she and the others in the room sounded doubtful.
And if Kyria was honest with herself, she wasn’t sure when—or if—Mirage would recover.
She wasn’t really attempting to sneak to the training room in the hive, but Mirage really didn’t want company.
At this late hour, the long, low-ceilinged cavern where changelings could train was empty. The only sound was the trickle of water from a small fountain at the end of the hallway. Mirage noticed some dummies, racks of weapons, and practice swords and armor, but she put those aside in her mind. Instead, she found an empty space, dimly lit by green changeling lights and drew her cutlass from her peytral.
A long nap, some good food, and some hot tea made Mirage feel a lot better about herself, about fighting, about facing that terrifying infiltrator. And yet, the mere thought of fighting made her stomach roil with unease.
Taking a deep breath, Mirage glanced at the steel. It was unknicked, so she raised the blade and took a stance, the first part of a pattern.
Her mother preferred a good book and a nice cup of tea, which Mirage liked too. Yet, she had to admit to herself that her auntie Celestia was right to introduce her to Equestrian martial arts. Earth pony boxing styles, pegasi pattern dances, and unicorn forms that were once lost to time were being brought back through Celestia’s memory and tireless promotion. The more tense times also encouraged ponies and others to take up the study of martial arts.
With the drive to learn more from other species and their cultures, her aunts had also made public Changeling martial arts forms. Chrysalis and Belladonna, when they had time, had made it a special point to school Mirage in these forms.
Step, cut, spin, slash. Her cutlass, a birthday gift from her father, wasn’t an exact match for most Equestrian and changeling sword styles. So, Celestia and Chrysalis had taught her saber forms.
Mirage was out of practice, having needed to devote more time to command training in her teenage years. Yet, she had also found that performing the patterns of her childhood when she was stressed to be… calming, centering. With every turn and slash, every step and strike, she could put aside the stress, the worry.
She finished the final step of the pattern with a jump and stab, posing with her cutlass pointing upward a bit, her legs crouched slightly.
Someone thumped their hooves on the ground and Mirage slowly straightened, turning around to see Facere a bandage around the right part of his head. He was smiling broadly, though.
Before Mirage could speak, he gave the updated passphrase and she answered back. He then trotted up, eyes appreciative.
“The Dance of the Wolf. Huh, so a few things have survived to the future.”
Glancing to see nobody was looking, Mirage nodded. “Chrysalis taught it to me.”
“Ah, that explains it. What other patterns do you know?” Facere asked.
“Uh, some changeling, some Equestrian ones.” Mirage sighed. “I’m a bit out of practice.”
“Do you know the Dance of the Dragons?”
“Oh, that one? It’s been forgotten. We know fragments of it, but we can’t—” Mirage blinked and frowned. “You’re… not going to ask me how I’m doing?”
Her grandfather gave her a knowing look. “I could, but do you want me to?”
She gave it a thought and shook her head.
The changeling chuckled and picked up a practice sword for himself in his magic. “I know you use this cutlass, but we can make it work. First few steps are…”
And so he explained, going through the motions with the sword. They didn’t talk about the infiltrator, they didn’t mention Mirage’s panic attack, they just went through the motions of the pattern together. Facere corrected Mirage sometimes, but otherwise he just did the pattern with her.
It was only after both were covered in sweat and sitting down by the fountain, did the changeling finally ask, “Feeling better?”
“Much.” Mirage washed her face with the fountain's water and lay down on the ground. “Can we talk?”
“Of course. What do you want to talk about?” Facere asked.
Mirage swallowed. “Grandfather, I’m… I’m scared. I know it’s natural, but I’m… perhaps it’s because I need a break, but I don’t know what to do.”
“How do you normally try to control your fear?” Her grandfather’s tone didn’t have a hint of judgement. It was just quiet and questioning.
“Back at home… I have my friends to talk to, my dad, my marefriend Furtiva, and sometimes mom.”
Facere gave his granddaughter an odd look. “Sometimes mom?”
“Mom’s busy ruling Equestria, and it’s sometimes difficult to talk to her. I’ve been away from home so long.” She sighed. She seemed to be doing that quite a lot these days. “It’s another of the many reasons I have for wanting to stand down.”
“Ah. Honestly, I’m scared too.”
“You are?” Mirage sighed. “Well, yeah right, super-powerful infiltrator.”
“Oh, you haven’t heard?” Facere asked.
“What?”
“The infiltrator is a changeling queen, probably an ascended one. At least, that’s what we suspect now.”
Mirage stared at Facere. It was simultaneously the most horrifying news she had heard and the most relieving one.
“Celestia, a changeling queen. No wonder I lost.”
“I know Alternia rules Equestria with Celestia and Luna, but I still find it incredibly puzzling why you and Kyria occasionally swear by Celestia—but I digress—yes, no wonder you lost,” said Facere, giving his granddaughter a flat look. “Future stuff?”
“Future stuff.” Groaning, the princess shook her head. She turned to the elderly changeling. “So how do you deal with your fear?”
“Hug my wife, talk to my friends, get drunk, but it’s not really the time or place to do so right now. Same as you really,” he said matter-of-factly.
Mirage couldn’t face her grandfather now, the shame, the sheer worry… it made her drop her gaze to the ground. “But my fear isn’t… rational. I mean, not all fear is rational, or is it? I mean, it is… I just don’t know what’s going to happen next battle, what I will do and I’m… I’m worried I’ll freeze.”
“Hmm, a valid concern given you just had quite a fright, but I don’t think you will freeze. You don’t seem the kind of changeling to freeze in danger.”
“But what if I do?” Mirage asked morosely.
He locked his gaze with her, not harshly, but with a cool, calm look. “You stop thinking of what might happen and keep thinking of what you can do to stay alive, Mirage. Keep making decisions, and don’t stop moving. I assume that’s what you were trained to do?”
Yes, it was something she was trained to do. Yet, hearing it from Facere, her grandfather, did make her feel better.
“Oh, and don’t be afraid to run.”
That made Mirage pause. She took a glance around and cast a spell to muffle their conversation. Bringing her neck down so she was at Facere’s eye-level she asked, “Run? But what if I’m guarding your daughters, my mom and aunts?”
Facere snorted. “Well don’t leave them of course. Take them with you. I’m just reminding you that you need not face this queen directly.”
“Because what’s most important is our family,” Mirage said.
“Exactly.”
She took a deep breath and sheathed the cutlass back into her peytral. “Thank you, grandfather.” Her leg was thankfully not too sweaty so she wrapped both around Facere.
“Anytime, Mirage,” said Facere, hugging his granddaughter back.
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Nice chapter.
A fly ? Shapeshifting into a tiny fragment of yoursef is extream 0_○;
10095608
Thanks!
As for the fly. Simulacris did that in book 1 xD
10095632
A lightbug. Its only open for Queens or?
Otherwise it would be op... Impossible to counter...
10095632
I have also been hit by the flu, so you are in good company.
Good to see that Mirage is able to get some help from her grandpa about her PTSD. Only so much that can be done in their situation, but it certainly seems like it's the first time in forever that she's getting the help she needs.
Wonder what future chapters hold as they come out in summer.
Yeah, I'm not letting Kyrie's stunt go.
Just good the Infiltrator is slacking effectiveness for fun. Otherwise things would look a lot nore grim.
Still. Bodycount is rising...