Emerald Eyes

by TheApostate

In the Nest

‘Lands of lies.’

- Queen Chrysalis on Equestria.

‘I don’t want to be here,’ she made a low growl.

Chrysalis entered the throne room. An audience was scheduled for today. She had postponed it for a while now; continuing to do so would not end well. Many had started complaining about the Queen’s seeming disinterest in the rule of her realm. It was, in a way, true. Her concerns had shifted to the outside, more preoccupied with Celestia’s maneuverings for some purpose she could not yet decipher the ends and outs of, except that Celestia was not involving that other Alicorn – Cadance. Though Chrysalis could not understand the reason for Cadance’s existence. Coccinelle described her as “a living furniture; beautiful, elegant, and guile but nothing more ostentatious”. She is in a profound relationship with the Captain of Celestia’s Guards, however – and Chrysalis made herself remember that fact. Coccinelle described the Guards as a non-threat: “a well-behaved artifact of a resolved time. Equal to a rock in personality and purpose, though far less useful in the latter”.

Maybe an opening… Maybe it was the time for real change… Not the masquerade she had made herself believe in her formative years.

Something more long-lasting… Something truly useful…

She was tired. She was hungry.

‘Hm?’ said Coccinelle, changed beyond her comprehension to the form of female Changeling. Completely unrecognizable with her elongated fangs, deep red eyes, and wings she had yet to get used to their presence and function.

‘Nothing,’ she hissed. Her lips had barely parted each other; she did not bother closing them.

‘For how long have you been awake?’

‘Early… early… It was still dark. I was reading.’

‘Reschedule. Alkenex told me you haven’t slept well for over a week. I can make my report instead.’

‘Would you take my place instead?’

‘You can do it. Easily.’

Chrysalis made a low grin, her fangs were somehow less and more menacing.

‘My Queen, don’t ruin your health.’

‘Your consideration is noted,’ she sighed.

They reached the foot of the staircase leading to her throne. Chrysalis stared quietly at the ornate chair. She did not feel like recalling who in the ever fuck had decided it should be put upstairs. The simple thought of taking them exhausted her further.

She closed her eyes for a few seconds. Coccinelle looked at her with great concern.

‘If-’

Chrysalis, after a long exhalation, ponderously opening her gaze to the pale light of captured Lumens, finally decided to move. She let herself fall on the throne.

The room fell in uncomfortable silence until a predictable sound perturbed the silence.

‘Stop,’ ordered Coccinelle.

Chrysalis ignored her. Her eyes were lost on the closed door, anxiously waiting for the first of her subjects to enter. Her claw eventually ventured to her neck, filling the room with the shy sound of colluding pearls.

She had forgotten to wear her crown. At least, she had her rosary.

****

Lord Ossedax of Praesepis walked past the Gate. A simple name for the main entrance that laid to the Great Queen’s Hive, truly a symbol of her modesty. Though Ossedax thought art of the southern parts of the Land was lacking in that particular aspect. Too similar to the over-furnished, over-explicit art of the damn grass-eaters. The Path of Change had been well-funded over the many years of the Queen’s reign, though in the last few years funds and attention were diverted toward unknown intentions. He remembered the Queen’s Guard being more present, though. Too busy parrying foreign attacks?

Personally, he did not care where his Queen was using the tithes and taxes her officers collected. But he detested the manner with which they were collected. He had heard of some talks to put forth the complaints to the ears of the Queen. Some had made advancement for a plot in case Chrysalis would be deaf to them. Ossedax had made it clear to the Warrior-Monarch of the Hollowed Peak, Skimex, and her fellows that, for all those suppositions and alleged contingencies, he would not betray the Queen. Though, under the advice of his siblings, he nonetheless kept attention and connections to that wayward cabal.

He took his time. He had yet to be called into the Throne Room. In the meanwhile, Ossedax took this moment to explore the garden, ostensibly a forest nestled in the middle of the Queen’s residence. Two or three gardeners tended the whole expanse in those times, not the army of professionals he had been told of.

He had heard of the distinct lack of color any plant possessed when it would enter their Land. Ostensibly in Equestria and beyond, even in the ruined Griffonstone, color was not that unusual. In the center, a theater was arranged, able to hold concerts for a limited number. Rumor was that the Queen had ordered for it to be able to accommodate the entirety of her residence’s staff. There was no place especially intent for her great personage, but Ossedax supposed it that “arrogant humility” the Queen was described as.

Besides the theater, a large plaza lined with pine trees was tilled with simple white stones. Under the shadows afforded, the now-rare art expositions would be organized. Participation was not restricted to a predetermined bunch – though their positions were obviously more favored – but all could participate and attend. Once, Ossedax recalled hearing, the boy cleaning the toilets was given more attention and praise from the visitors than the one of renowned artists. He does not recall the year of that event. He would wager a good ten years by the least; he had attended the two shows in those past ten years. The buffets and the night afterward were wonderful indeed, also. In past court proceedings, the intended were offered meals to pass the time. He smelled the air; his expression turned sour at the lack of freshly made food.

‘Ossedax!’

He turned and saw Arathis, ruler of Neverwarm, heading towards him.

‘Waiting for old sleepy head to welcome you?’

‘No, I am just here, patiently waiting for a bird to tell me to sod off.’

‘Charming! I’ll be waiting for your brush!’ She laughed.

Arathis moved closer and whispered in his ear. ‘Did you know Skimex was here?’

‘Was? She’s gone?’

‘The negotiations were violent and short.’

‘The Queen did not bulge?’

‘From what I’ve heard, she was… more accepting of the changes proposed.’

‘Let’s hope it is the start of a new beginning. By the way, did she accept to help you deal with the uprisings?’

‘She had sent forces to deal with the cells, yes.’

‘Without your prior knowledge?’

‘Without my knowledge… It is… terrifying how quiet they are.’

‘A proof of our Queen’s benevolence and care for your well-being. She just did not want you to waste your own effectives and time on them.’

‘What effectives?’ her voice turned grave. ‘I have almost nothing left of my guards, and forget about militias. I have not the funds for not even a company to be armed and ready. Besides, the border needs it more than we do.’

‘Internal hemorrhaging is always fatal,’ he said, pausing for a second to breathe the cool air. ‘None of us have the funds for a well-armed militia regiment. But she permits us to have a standing bodyguard, you know?’

‘We are of the same age,’ she grumbled.

‘Than don’t act as if you are an upstart! It is the Queen’s will. She is insistent for a good defensive guard for us – you should bring that aspect to her rather than the militia “problem”.’

‘Lord Ossedax,’ a female voice beckoned out.

‘Chancellor Amer!’ he welcomed the Chancellor of the Estate from afar. ‘It is my queue it seems. Wish me luck.’

‘Ossedax…’ she carefully approached him.

‘Yes?’

‘Ask when the new harvest will be. Hunger… is leering its unwelcomed head.’

‘I know. Why do you think I am here?’

‘My Queen,’ he knelt.

She did not seem to care. She looked more tired than his last visit. That Changeling – that “Arriver” – was there, always behind the Queen.

‘The Queen,’ the Arriver began, ‘is undisposed.’

‘I can see that,’ he admitted, not make eye contact with the bizarrely accented company of his Queen.

Chrysalis rose a tired claw, her head barely holding still. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. The Arriver had to wake her.

‘I can leave,’ said Ossedax.

‘No.’ The clarity in her voice rambling in the air like a great wave in the ocean. ‘Tell me,’ she said in a motherly tone, ‘Ossedax, what can I assist with?’

‘My Queen, Arathis already told me of Skimex and her own dealings with you. Though I have not the details, I know of the general intent.’

‘Your honesty is appreciated.’

‘As for myself, what I wish to impart to you, is simply to be in your presence – to know of your well-being, my Queen.’

‘Planning something?’ her voice rumbled.

‘I have not the ambition nor the mind to ever be in your position, Majesty. My hive is doing well for itself and my people are happy with the life they are having. However-’

‘Happy?’ She clenched the arms of her throne, putting all her strength in her fingers. ‘They – we – hunger still. My reign is not complete. My work is not complete. You want to know of my health? Know that, until it is not solved, I will still go on. I will never rest. I am the Queen and you are to know my goals and wishes.’

‘I am loyal.’

She put a claw on her forehead, slowly sliding it. ‘I know. I know. I truly do.’

‘I should leave.’

‘No, you are the first to not be hiding… things.’ Her head slumped. The Arriver caught Chrysalis.

‘Go,’ the Arriver ordered Ossedax.

‘Do not order him!’ yelled Chrysalis, stopping herself short from uttering an insult.

‘My Queen…’ interjected Ossedax. ‘I am a burden on your time. I excuse myself for everything, I am also here to ask for when a new Harvest will be scheduled. My people are happy but, as Arathis did disclose, hunger is creeping.’

‘I know. Plans are underway. You can dispose of yourself. I have no use for you here anymore. You can rest…’

She waved him away, like throwing a used tissue.

Ossedax got up, even more worried for the future they could face.

The door closed, and tapping filled the air, joined by the heavy breathing of an exceedingly sleepier Queen. She could try to sleep, now. Doubt permeated her mind, fogging it and consigning her into a perpetual state of half-slumber.

Coccinelle looked at the source of the sound, sighing in exasperation at Chrysalis’s incessant drumming.

‘You should go to sleep. Now.’

‘Maybe I should.’

Her admission surprised Coccinelle.

‘What?’ smiled Chrysalis.

‘You were honest.’

She laughed. ‘Surprising? Ha! Nooo! I lie to you, of course, but you know more than anyone here. Is it a problem, dear?’

Coccinelle did not answer.

‘Sit down,’ Chrysalis gestured.

The Unicorn-now-Changeling scolded her, but answered the Queen’s wish.

‘You hate me?’ asked Chrysalis, sounding more as an affirmation than a question.

‘I won’t go that far. But I still don’t understand why can’t you still remember?’

She noticed Chrysalis withholding the urge to tap once more.

‘Look,’ began Chrysalis, lifting herself up slightly, ‘I want to remember. I trust you enough to part my plans and doubts with you. Even Alkanex…’ She trailed off, her head felt heavier. ‘Canterlot.’

‘What of it?’ Coccinelle almost cursed.

‘Well, dear, salvation. Time for you to lay the way to our liberation.’

Coccinelle frowned, confused yet fully aware of her friend’s intent. ‘Alkanex would do better.’

‘If the Lady of the Hollowed Peak hadn’t been preparing anything on the side, yes.’

The casualness of the response was a thing Coccinelle never got used to. It abhorred her, in a fashion; yet, she did not care.

‘Look,’ continued Chrysalis, ‘we know thanks to your efforts more details than we ought to have about Canterlot and the Castle of Celestia than we ever could have.’ The obvious stated gave a nice, warm feeling for Coccinelle. ‘However, I need you to uncover one last detail.’

‘It is?’ having the faint idea of what Chrysalis had to say next.

‘You reported of a structure underneath the Castle. Of a warren of crystals of sort. I need to know of a way to enter it.’

‘I had Desperax put on the task, as I reported. We found an entrance.’

‘Yes, but not from the inside. You should have also tested the magical resistance of the place, whatever its past use had to be, Celestia did not put idiots like you inside.’

Coccinelle gritted her teeth with her mouth closed. She hated Chrysalis’s tone. She hated it more than anything.

‘Connasse.’

‘Your words need wards,’ warned Chrysalis.

‘What of the new Harvest?’

‘It is not of your concerns.’ She paused. ‘Go rest. Tomorrow you will transform.’

Coccinelle swung her head upward, and walked away from the throne.

‘My Queen can be assured that I won’t disappoint her,’ neutrally said Coccinelle.

‘Good,’ she answered.

Then, with a simple glow of her horn, she asked for the next one to enter.

‘I hate this world,’ she whispered.

****

Blades rose. Claws turned into diamond-sharp mandibles. Figures clad in obsidian moved fast, scything the surprised warriors and servants with ease.

The Lady of the Hollowed Peak, the Warrior-Monarch of the East, killed three of her assailers. She spat their blood and readied herself for another attack.

The air was filled with a thunderous cacophony as Skimex transformed into an immense white wolf, her eyes of deep crimson. She had honed that particular transformation for years, studying every aspect of the lupine form and behavior. Her form was perfect.

She pounced forward, ripping apart her opponents with claws and teeth.

Skimex howled for her son and daughter. No one answered. She ordered her remaining guards to keep the attackers at bay.

With a devastating turn, she rushed to her children’s last location.

Anguis was dead. Her youngest was dead. His heart was pierced by one of Chrysalis’s peons. Lonomia still stood blood-bathed, deeply scarred, and panting in her manticore form. Blades had found a home on her body, protruding as discarded needles on her back and sides. Her whole being trembled, she could no longer control her aspect.

Skimex lunged.

They were surrounded.

Then it all stopped as an immense, hulking figure sporting for arms wielding swords, more part of the claws themselves than separate entities, and standing on two hooven legs walked forward.

‘Alkanex,’ growled Skimex in spite and bitterness.

She knew deep down it was lost. Yet she could give her daughter the time to run. To escape.

Skimex jumped towards Alkanex’s neck.

She escaped his attacks and landed her teeth on the peon’s throat. With all the force of a predator, she rendered it apart.

Alkanex fell. Warriors swarmed Skimex and Lonomia, fighting for the killing blow.

With his last breaths and last acts of loyal, unwavering loyalty to the Queen, Alkanex mastered all his force into the right side of his body and efforts to keep the form Chrysalis had taught him.

The blades landed on Skimex’s neck, cutting through the meat with ease. Then in a determinant move, Alkanex tore the meat out.

Skimex died.

The impossible, primordial scream of a siren laced with the blare of trumpets and wrapped with vengeance and hate bellowed through the hive’s halls and into the sky of sunset.

Lonomia let go of her discipline. In one mental order, she let her form go loose.

Water, fire, snow, Griffon, thorns, rocks, and lighting – she became all and none. Her form was an incomprehensible, lethal mess of endless change and cavorting aspects. Those of the Path of the Stars wavered in their containment spells as the force of a dragon tail broke all their bones in one swing.

Their leader dead, the last of the rulers of Hollowed Peak lost in her grief, Inades – the second in command – ordered a retreat.

Many more died in their escape, Lonomia’s monstrous form hounding him endlessly.

Inades hoped if they managed to escape the hive, the last scion of Skimex would abandon them.

She did not.

Trumpets blared once more in a way that made rock break and the birds die.

Inades and the few, very few, survivors opened their eyes, expecting the malevolent eyes of the apex to take them away in its hunger. Instead, all was calm. The threat had vanished. Silence reigned.

Hollowed Peak entered Chrysalis’ direct dominion, and Lonomia disappeared into the wilderness.

Comments

[LunarReaper]

Enjoying the cloak and dagger of this story. Keep up the good work.