• Published 22nd Mar 2022
  • 10,136 Views, 2,534 Comments

Don't Bug Me - Starscribe



Amie was prepared for a difficult season as a camp counselor. She wasn't prepared for her entire summer camp vanishing from Earth, and reappearing in a strange new world. Now they're bugs, in a world that seems to hate them. Survival not guaranteed.

  • ...
26
 2,534
 10,136

PreviousChapters Next
Chapter 46

The room was much darker than Amie would've expected. But there were only candles within, none of the electric lights she'd seen elsewhere in the city. They were placed irregularly, illuminating a sloping, downward trail through the stone. It led, eventually, to a huge natural cavern, covered in damp rock. The walls were covered with swirling, living limestone, and sight-lines were broken by many formations. Huge stalactites hung from the ceiling overhead, glittering with moisture in the gloom.

In the very center, there was a low table, surrounded by cushions. A dozen bugs waited there, each one already reclining. They did not rise as they approached, but did turn to face them in the darkness.

They were bugs—but much older than Amie had ever seen. They had only faint traces of orange on their fins. Instead of shiny like Amie, their coats were cloudy and dim in the candlelight. Most had more tattoos than she had seen from any in the city above, vast stories that covered their entire bodies from front to back.

Their eyes were strangest of all. Each of them had changed, fading to a pale, luminous blue. Amie could see where each of them were looking from the glowing spots their eyes formed in the darkness.

Except for her. At the center of the table was a creature that towered over all the others, a stark contrast to everything they represented. While they were old and shriveled, this being was lustrous and youthful. Her eyes were almost human, though Amie knew that was only the darkness. Like her own, they would narrow to slits in the daylight.

The air was thick with incense—burning sage, if Amie guessed right. It wafted steadily upward, drawn back the way they'd come by a constant current. There was an opening in the cavern beyond the table, though Amie couldn't see it from where she stood.

"Hello!" Amie called, when they had nearly reached the table. Of course they would've heard her coming. There was almost no sound in that dark space beside the steady dripping of water and their hooves on the stone. "I'm Amie, this is my brother Wes. We've come to honor the oath we made with Pachu'a, in thanks for the aid you sent to Stella Lacus."

All these bugs sat on one side of the table, leaving the other empty. There were two cushions waiting, one larger and one smaller.

Wes waved his wing weakly, muttering something. But he was too shy to say much, and it only came out as a squeak.

Every bug in the room turned towards him, their eyes intent. Even Amie felt it—they were sensing his fear—as real as any pony's.

"It's true, then," said one of the elderly bugs. Amie couldn't easily tell them apart—their tattoos were all unique, but difficult to distinguish in the darkness. "There is a drone who feels."

"He is like prey in other ways," said another voice, male this time. "He eats their food, and sleeps as they do."

Prey. The more Amie heard them say it, the less she liked it. Yes, she'd taken nourishment from her time with ponies. Tailslide and Ivy had both given her magic. But it didn't feel like she was feeding on them. There was no limit to the number of friends someone could have.

She smelled Amie's tension. Her eyes turned back towards her, while the others remained focused on Wes. "My bugs misjudged. You're still a nymph, for another... month. Two at most."

The queen spoke with the same accent as the other orange bugs they'd met so far. At the same time, Amie felt the weight of incredible confidence behind every word. Part of that was her skill as a leader. There was more to it. Amie felt as though she took up more space in the room, somehow. Her words brought weight behind them, that made her want to obey just by hearing.

If they'd been a command. "I never claimed to be a queen. I don't even know what that means, beyond what they told me."

The strange old bugs all looked at each other. But they said nothing. In that silence, Amie imagined a feverish conversation passing between them, all unheard.

"We saw the wretched state of your swarm," another of them said. "It is written we were likewise, long ago. But our prey were not wise to us then."

"The Erovores did terrible harm to all."

Nods of agreement passed between the members of their strange group.

"Something of your arrival is different," an elder said. "This bug you bring. There has never been one like him. One who is not bound to consume the magic of others. To break the chain."

"Unravel the tapestry," agreed another.

"Shatter the wheel."

Amie nodded. "He's also my brother. You're welcome to talk to him, and I'm sure he'll cooperate if you want to examine him. But you can't hurt him, and you can't have him. Just thought I'd... make that clear from the start. We only agreed to visit."

Again they seemed huddled in silent conversation. She felt the tension rising in the room between them, without a word. They didn't remain silent for long.

"We understand this," she said. The queen rose to her hooves, gesturing. "You should come with me, nymph of an unborn swarm. I would speak words with you that no others will hear."

Amie stood too. She touched her brother's shoulder, looking back. "And he stays?"

"To answer our questions."

"To be examined."

"Few know changelings as we do."

"Will not be harmed."

She could never trace one speaker from another, or one tone from another. Were they even different people, or one unified swarm? Like ants, hiding down in the dark.

They didn't take our weapons away. Amie made a show of removing her saddlebags, setting them down beside him. "I'll be back, Wes."

He learned towards her, then hugged her with nervous, desperate energy. Again they all looked at him, staring. They felt the love and trust between them, strengthened over these months in exile. But they can't eat it. They only eat pride.

She still didn't understand the restrictions of these other bugs—but at least it meant Wes would look less like food. Her brother was so shy that he almost never felt proud.

Amie left him with the Elders. She circled around the table, then joined her standing by the door. She towered over Amie, even more than Tailslide did when she was Rain Fly. Walking close to her was a little like opening the door leading out during a thunderstorm—her whole body felt the invisible tension in the air, power unbounded.

She led Amie through the doorway beyond the table. The stone floor changed almost instantly to one made of the waxy orange substance, just like the building entrance. After only a few steps, Amie slowed, feeling for the first time like she had truly walked into a hive.

Hexagonal cells extended up the walls so high that they were lost to the darkness. She heard many figures moving in the gloom—other bugs, most of them young. But none were on the ground, or anywhere close.

In some of the nearby cells, Amie saw shapes moving behind a thin layer of glass. Wriggling pupae, growing larger in their tiny, enclosed worlds.

I’ve seen this before, she realized. I dreamed it.

Amie hated bugs. Her stomach should've emptied right out onto the floor. Her disgust remained only a distant memory, however. The outlines crawling along the walls were not horrifying, they were cute.

Her royal escort only stopped when they reached the very center of the room, and a large throne resting there. It was well-padded, in several interlocking sections that made it look more like a hospital apparatus than anything else. Maybe... not a throne after all, then?

"Your name is Amie Blythe," the queen finally said. She didn't climb into her strange chair, but stood beside it, watching her. "Do you know mine?"

"Kaya," she answered. She held a hoof towards her, smiling. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

The queen eyed her hoof, but either didn't recognize the gesture, or didn't care. Her horn glowed, and Amie jerked forward. It came so quickly and so irresistibly that Amie could do nothing to stop it, making her tumble over herself and land at the queen's hooves.

She loomed over her, eyes imperious. "You subject yourself to terrible danger, Amie Blythe. A queen should remain in her own lands. If you must travel, use another's body while you rest in safety, away from the assassin's blade."

Amie stumbled to her hooves. That strength was incredible. More than she'd seen from any unicorn in Agate. "I was promised safety," she said. "Pachu'a said we would be treated with respect. That your swarm was civilized."

The bug laughed, her voice suddenly harsh and grating. "And we are. Yet one without honor could say the same. Queen Chrysalis has made such promises before. She lured away one of my nymphs with a promise of new territory to conquer, then cut her throat."

The queen produced a blade from nowhere, a razor of metal as thin as glass. She dropped it at the ground in front of Amie. Yet her eyes burned as she said it, her voice suddenly ached. "You are the daughter of a distant queen. I would not have her suffer as I did. I would not see you meet such an end."

Amie faced the queen directly now, her body frozen in tension. She was too weak to fight—but she would be ready anyway. If this was an assassination, she would die standing up.

"That's horrible," Amie said. "I'm sorry, I—I can't imagine. I've never had a child, or lost one. That's evil."

Kaya swallowed, taking a moment to collect herself. "I fear you will soon know both life and death, nymph. You would be little use to your swarm otherwise. However weak and pathetic they are at their dawn, you are their only hope for a future. They will not survive their first winter without your genius."

Amie nodded. As frightening as Kaya's teaching method might feel, she was also talking straight with her. Sincerity radiated from her as surely as it had from Pachu'a. But that did not mean she was some loving mother. Amie would find no gentleness here.

"And maybe our friendship. My... swarm... are from a better age than the monsters who attacked your family. If you helped us now when we are new and the world is frightening, we could form... bonds of kinship that endure. We don't need to compete—a shared prosperity could bring a shared peace."

Kaya's eyes hardened again, intent. But at least she didn't attack Amie again. "Pachu'a told me that you are not limited to a single essence. You could compete with my children. You are the first swarm that ever could."

The tension between them hardened until she could almost see it. Never had she been in more danger than she was in that moment. "I'm told that being a queen makes me a... leader, of every green bug. They're my swarm. I could forbid them. And we could go further—if my kind ever become as numerous as yours, we could share what we learn about any source of food that would be valuable to you. There are so many emotions, Kaya. I would happily give you an oath that no bug of mine would ever take from you, in exchange for your help in our time of weakness."

Kaya stalked around Amie, her expression turning unreadable. "The value of that oath would depend on the one who made it. Whether you are a creature of honor, or a monster of broken promises and blood. Which are you, Amie Blythe?"

Scared, she thought. In over my head. Not cut out for this. But this was her moment. Amie was learning fast, and building wherever she went. If she couldn't find a way to get her campers home, she might still find a way to feed them all. But she would have to last long enough for that, learn their powers well enough. Maybe even find help from Equestria itself.

But winter was almost here, and the food in Stella Lacus was already gone. Without outside help, many would die. "I'm someone who... comes from a world who doesn't believe one of us has to be a winner, and one a loser. We can both prosper. For better or worse, we're... close. The way I see it, we either turn into friends, or you turn into a murderer and kill my swarm. Did Pachu'a tell you what they were like?"

Amie stood as straight as she could, staring into the face of death. "Children. My swarm is a summer camp. There are five kids to every counselor. Frankly, Kaya, I think your swarm are too good for that. Your hunters saw them suffering, and they gave away their own rations. Judge me if you want, but I can judge you too. I can see you aren't a monster."

Silence stretched. Amie lost track of the passage of time. Minutes—hours, it blurred beyond her comprehension. It was only her, and that pair of harsh orange eyes.

Finally she spoke. "It's good that you judge well, nymph. If you were wrong, you would not be alive. But the Elders have seen into the future of our alliance. They tell me that you will rise, and we will rise with you. So come, sit with me, and learn. I have much to teach you."

PreviousChapters Next