Chapter 5
Ten years before Integration…
The start of the school term was probably Caramel’s least favourite time of the year. It usually meant increasing responsibilities, homework and expectations, and also less time for foaling around. This year was going to be especially difficult because his parents had moved and dragged him along to Ponyville High. Granted, they were no longer colts and fillies, but that shouldn’t mean that all the fun should stop, right? What he wouldn’t give to enjoy having no responsibilities once again…
“Hey, Dreamy, you gonna pick something to eat or not?” somepony asked.
“Uh, sorry.” Caramel mentally shook himself and smiled apologetically at the exasperated pony behind him. He then quickly dumped an assortment of hay fries, lettuce, carrots and a cup of orange juice on his lunch tray.
After paying for them at the counter, he went off in search of a seat. There were lots of new faces in school this year, and the crowded cafeteria was quite literally a sea of strangers to him. And they weren’t all that friendly, either. Whenever he trotted close to an empty seat, the ponies nearby would give him those sidelong glances that basically said, Sorry, this one’s for a friend. I won’t stop you, but it wouldn’t be nice to take my friend’s place, would it? Caramel couldn’t really blame them, though. He couldn’t honestly say for certain that he wouldn’t have felt the same way if he were in their place. High school wasn’t the best place for opening yourself up to complete strangers.
After another minute of fruitless searching, his jaw was beginning to tire from holding his tray for so long. But then he caught sight of a familiar grey coat, and the trio of four-leafed clovers cutie mark confirmed its owner’s identity. He trotted over to the little table at the farthest corner of the cafeteria, and once he was near its lone occupant he cleared his throat. “Mind if I sit here?” he asked.
Lucky turned to look at him and his eyes widened in surprise. He then scooted to the side of the bench to make room and said, “Nope. Go ahead.”
Caramel nodded and sat down, placing his tray next to Lucky’s. They ate in companionable silence at first; Caramel was just grateful to have found a familiar face around. It was strange to find Lucky here, though. The last time he’d seen him was just after they'd graduated from primary school. And it seemed that he’d changed quite a bit in the intervening years. For starters, his voice had cracked and gotten a lot deeper, and he had distinctly grown taller and heavier. But he also seemed rather subdued, and it took Caramel a moment to realise what was so different about this picture.
“Hey, where’s Shining Armour?” he asked.
“He went to Canterlot and joined the Royal Corps. He’s going to become a guard.”
Caramel was swallowing at the same time, and felt a bit of fried hay go down the wrong pipe. He choked and coughed up the offending bit of food and then stared at Lucky. “Wait—what did you say?”
Lucky chuckled. “Yeah, I know. Who’d have thought, huh?”
“Good for him, I suppose. But what about you? Did you try to sign up as well?”
Lucky hung his head. “Yeah. And I was rejected. And he still went ahead with it.” He threw his hooves up in the air despairingly and then covered his face. “He abandoned me! I thought we were buddies!”
Caramel bit his lip, unsure as to whether it would be smarter to comfort Lucky or to let him be. “Umm, I’m… sorry to hear that?”
The grey stallion suddenly made a little choking noise, and Caramel narrowed his eyes in suspicion. It almost sounded as if Lucky was—
And then Lucky burst out laughing. His loud guffaws drew odd looks from nearby tables and he nearly lost his balance. Caramel could only roll his eyes. Well, some things never change.
After a moment, Lucky had calmed down sufficiently to sigh and say, “Sorry. Couldn’t resist.” But then his expression grew sober once more. “Nah, I didn’t try to follow him. I think I’d like to accomplish more than learn how to be a statue in front of the Princess’ door, thank you very much. Besides, you know me; I’d probably get myself court marshalled or something on my first day.”
Caramel chuckled. He couldn’t quite see Shining faring much better.
“Also, he’s totally missing out. Ponyville’s got a lot of pretty mares,” Lucky added gleefully. “Just look at the view we’ve got from here!”
Caramel rolled his eyes again. Lucky had been quick enough in getting over his crush on Miss Cheerilee, but since then he’d started this weird habit of periodically getting himself smitten with every other mare who trotted in his field of vision. And apparently, it was still true.
“See that filly over there?” whispered Lucky, nudging him with an elbow.
Caramel followed his eyes and saw a lean, cream coloured mare whose mane and tail had equal lengths of indigo and purplish-pink in them. She had her back to them, oblivious to the appreciative gaze that she was getting from Lucky.
“You really like her, huh?”
“Well, look at her!” Lucky gestured at the mare with both hooves in emphasis. He was sporting his trademark dreamy smile again. “She seems like the sweet sort, just like her cutie mark...”
Caramel shrugged. “I guess.”
It was Lucky’s turn to roll his eyes. “Oh, right. I almost forgot. Of course you wouldn’t be all that interested, eh?” He grinned and waggled his eyebrows at him.
“Huh?” What in the world is that supposed to mean?
“Where’s Sassaflash?”
“Sash is in her hometown right now. She had to help out with a family emergency. But she’ll be here, too, when she gets back. It’s kind of weird that she moved just about the same time I did.”
Lucky nodded. “Must be the price of property here. Ponies don’t like staying so close to the Everfree Forest. The houses are almost dirt cheap compared to other places.”
“Mm hmm.”
Having seemingly exhausted the conversation for the time being, they went back to their meals in silence. The bell rang just when Caramel was downing the last of his orange juice. He got up and made ready to leave.
“Hey…” said Lucky uncertainly.
Caramel raised his eyebrows in query.
Lucky held out a hoof. “It’s good to see you again.”
He bumped it and grinned. “Yeah.”
* * * * *
Two months before Integration…
Caramel was having a hard time stopping himself from fiddling with his loose front teeth. There was something almost habitually addictive about nudging them with his tongue, anticipating the mild buzz of discomfort as they swayed back and forth. It was like losing his milk teeth all over again, except that this time almost every single one was loose, and he wasn’t sure what was supposed to replace them when they finally did pop out. What did changelings need fangs for, anyway? A disturbing thought came to him, but he quickly dismissed it on the grounds that changelings fed on love, and it would be counter-productive for them to try to have their cake and eat it, so to speak.
He sighed. What I wouldn’t give for a bath right now. He had long gotten used to the scarcity of water in the hive – he was already capable of lasting a whole day on a single sip – but the dryness also meant that keeping clean was going to be a bit of a problem. His coat was growing patchy around his legs and was getting filthier by the day; his breath stank, his mane was greasy and unkempt, and he could probably grow potatoes in his ears by now.
Provided they stopped shrinking, that is. Changeling ears were tubular and narrow; the lower halves of his were starting to curl up and merge at the bottom like a trumpet, and the edges were developing stiff, serrated projections like the teeth on a saw. Not the most flattering of looks in the world, but at least it wasn’t uncomfortable. The real problem was somewhere else.
Sometime before, he had partially solved his personal hygiene issues by using sand to scrub himself clean, but that pretty much went out the window when the wounds started opening up on his legs. First, his coat had receded entirely from his knees and below, and then his skin had gone all loose and flaky, and then torn right open during his sleep. His exposed flesh was unnervingly greyish and blotchy, the sores constantly leaked a clear fluid, and getting sand in them was just about as painful as it sounded. He couldn’t wash them out, and he certainly wasn’t going to lick them clean. But thankfully, the sensitivity of the sores was lessening even as they grew deeper each day. And his hooves were becoming disturbingly porous and bristly on their undersides. Almost like hoof rot, except for the fact that they neither stank nor went soft.
Boom.
Caramel perked his ears. That doesn’t sound good. It felt like an Ursa Major’s footfall, or maybe a dragon’s. Was there one moving about on the surface? If so, he hoped that it had no interest in changeling hives. He waited in silence, anticipating another thud, but it never came. Instead, his ears picked up some reverberation passing through the cavern, like a distant rumble of thunder, causing puffs of dust to come drifting down from the ceiling.
Caramel did not like that at all. He ran up to the side of his pit, reared up and placed both forelegs on the wall and shouted, “Hey, did any of you hear that? What’s going on up there?”
No answer, unsurprisingly. He sighed and backed down, but found that he could not—his front hooves simply refused to come away from the rocky surface. He started and jerked away in fear, thinking that something had grabbed his hoof or that he’d placed it on something sticky; he overbalanced and thumped into the sand when his hooves suddenly parted from the wall.
What in the world?
He inspected the spot where he’d placed his hooves, but found nothing other than smooth rock and the glistening patches dotted with the luminescent blue and green nodes that were the hive’s main form of lighting.
Caramel then raised a hoof and scrutinised its underside. Dark bristles and lots of little holes. Definitely not hoof rot. He placed it on the rocky wall again and pulled away, but nothing unusual happened. Frowning, he tried again, but this time patiently waited when the underside of his hoof came into contact with the surface.
His eyes widened. Oh boy. He could feel something different about his hooves. The rock felt cool and dry, but there was this other sensation that he couldn’t quite put a word to. The closest he could come up with was as if he’d just discovered muscles he never knew he had before. He explored the odd sensation with his mind, still trying to determine what it was supposed to be.
Suddenly, something in his hoof flexed. Well, that may not have been the right word, but he was still certain that his hoof was somehow in a different state at that point. He tried to pull away, but it remained firmly glued to the rock. He drew in a sharp breath in surprise, and his hoof ‘relaxed’ and detached from the wall without a sound. It felt uncannily similar to the feeling of pulling two magnets apart.
Caramel planted his rump in the sand and appraised both of his front hooves. Just how long have I had this? Those holes and bristles… He tried doing the same thing with the sand, but found that he was unable to replicate the sensation. But after managing to do it again with the rock, he realised that he’d not noticed it before simply because it required a solid surface. After several minutes of successfully gluing his hooves to the wall, he felt a little grin coming on.
This time, he placed a second hoof higher than the first one. He did the same with his hind hooves. They all stuck fast. He detached one and placed it further up, pulling himself higher and higher. He felt his grin turn into a bout of gleeful chuckling. It was like rock-climbing, but without a safety harness and any sort of hoof-holds!
And that was when he realised that he was one storey up, and there was no harness or safety net to save him if something went wrong. Which was exactly what happened. His muscles went slack at the thought of plunging to his doom had it been a real mountain, and every single one of his hooves relaxed and popped off of the wall, giving him an express fall all the way to the sandy bottom.
“Oof!”
After calming down, catching his breath and nursing the freshly sanded sores on his legs, he ground his teeth and leaped back onto the wall. Oh no, I’m not done with you just yet! One sticky step after another, he climbed. This time, he made it up to his previous height and paused for breath. Once he’d made sure that his grip was secure, he forced himself to look down.
Yes! His hooves didn’t give way. His heart was pounding, sure, but he had his nerves under better control now. He adjusted himself so that he was hanging on sideways, then again so that he was facing down, head-first into the pit. Oddly enough, he didn’t experience any sensation of blood rushing to his head, or any of the dizziness that he would have expected from being in such a precarious position. Once he’d forced his brain to get over the notion that he was doing something nopony was supposed to, everything just felt so… natural.
Okay, so changelings do have some cool stuff.
And then he froze as the realisation hit him; he could leave his pit. After all the misery and boredom, he could finally leave this dumb, dark hole!
He began to climb with renewed vigour and anticipation, lengthening the distance between each hoof placement. One, two, three, four… The top grew closer, and his grin widened. After days and days of helplessness, he was finally accomplishing something! A tiny part at the back of his mind told him that he was being silly and reckless, but he ignored it and carried on. Forget caution. He needed to feel independent just this once for crying out loud!
Almost there… He placed one hoof on the ledge and pulled himself up—
And then a pair of enormous green eyes appeared right in front of his face.
“Yaaagh!” he cried.
For the second time, everything went slack. His hind hooves slipped and he scraped his chest on the rough ledge as he scrabbled at the rock with both forelegs. He felt himself slip over the edge in a shower of dust and gravel… But in the next second, a strong force supported him from below as he was enveloped in a green aura, and he was lifted back up and dumped onto the ledge.
“Well, this is a pleasant surprise,” said Queen Chrysalis. “To think that I had planned a whole session of teaching you how to use those legs of yours, and I find you already out of your room. I’m impressed.”
Caramel scratched his forehead and heaved a sigh of relief. “Umm, thanks for catching me.”
“What are mothers for?” replied Chrysalis.
He didn’t answer. There was something in his mouth, a small, sharp and hard object with a weird taste. He felt it with his tongue and realised that it was a tooth. A second later, he found the empty spot which it used to occupy, and at that moment accidentally dislodged another two teeth with his tongue. Ouch. He must have clenched pretty hard when he fell. But that still didn’t explain the taste. It was metallic, just like blood, which should have been the obvious explanation, except that the taste was somehow way off. It was a little bitter and sour as well. Had he gotten something else in his mouth by accident? Maybe a bug?
More than a little worried, he quickly spat out all three teeth. They landed with soft clicks on the stony floor, along with spatters of saliva and blood. He frowned and peered at them. Nothing unusual, as far as he could tell. So why does it taste so different?
His teeth glowed green and levitated off the floor, reminding him of Chrysalis’ presence. She inspected them as one would some rather expensive jewellery, and as she did so he felt an itch skittering about inside his forehead. He scratched at it, but found his hoof obstructed by the stubby projection on his head. Stupid horn. He simply couldn’t reach the gnawing itch! He shook his head vigorously, but to no avail. But then Chrysalis dropped his teeth, and the sensation faded altogether. And then he realised why: he had been sensing her magic.
So, I’m part unicorn now. He definitely did not envy them if every little bit of magic in their vicinity could cause such an abominable itch in their heads. He really hoped this was just a phase. But if he could eventually learn to cast spells…
“Are you even listening?”
Eh?
Chrysalis was sporting a mixture of supreme boredom and mild exasperation on her face. She had the underside of one hoof outstretched towards him, as if expecting him to pass her something. “I told you to spit; it wasn’t a request,” she growled.
He complied and spat out a glob of saliva and remnant blood, and immediately froze in horror. He’d just spat on her hoof. What was he thinking? He was pretty sure that doing that to royalty would’ve meant a swift tackle from the guards followed by a free ticket to the dungeon. But she asked for it! Or was it a trick? Hayseed, he was really starting to dislike this back-and-forth between sincerity and deceit from the queen.
If Chrysalis was aware of his inward complaining, she gave no indication of it. She sniffed at the oozing spittle on her hoof, then casually wiped it on the tunnel wall. Her horn flared, and Caramel felt her seize his forelegs with magic. He jumped at first, remembering how sensitive the sores on his legs were, but her grip was surprisingly gentle. The glow on her horn brightened as she inspected his forelegs, and the inside of his head began to itch again, confirming earlier suspicions about his new sense. A pricking sensation followed in his forelegs as he saw individual grains of sand floating out of the sores. When she was done with his forelegs, she released them and wasted no time in lifting up his hind legs and giving them the same treatment.
When his wounds were thoroughly cleaned out, she released her hold of him and said, “They’re developing quite nicely. Come, follow me.” She casually trotted up the sloping tunnel, leaving him to follow, still slightly confused. As they went on to who knew where, she added, “It’s time you started pulling your weight around here. You’re finally ready for work.”
Caramel had to canter a little to keep up with her swift gait. “What kind of work?”
A little smile turned up the corner of her mouth. “You’ll see.”
It wasn’t easy keeping track of the twists and turns that Chrysalis led him through. There were many off-shooting tunnels from the one they were in, and she was very brief in her description of each as they passed them, saying little more than where it led to and whether he was allowed to go there or not. Those that led to the surface were pretty much off limits to him, as were the ones that went to the lower levels of the hive. “For your own safety”, she claimed. He wasn’t so sure he believed that.
In any case, based on her descriptions and his crude mental map, the changeling hive was as wide as Canterlot City from end to end, and maybe a little deeper than that. His pit was pretty close to its centre and their destination happened to be somewhere a little lower down, farther out on the extremities of the hive. They met other changelings on the way, but apart from a few curious glances and a few short exchanges in Vespid with Chrysalis, they kept well out of their way.
The air grew increasingly humid as they went on, until it was almost as cloying as a rainforest in the middle of summer. The tunnel walls were coated in a thin layer of resin that shone with droplets of condensation. It was in stark contrast to the dryness of the rest of the hive that he’d seen so far.
Chrysalis stopped when the tunnel widened out into a chamber of sorts and called out sharply, “Anther!”
Caramel figured that it must have been a changeling she was looking for. He could hear a skittering sound approaching, but no one came from any of the adjacent tunnels. It wasn’t until a head popped out of a hole in the ceiling that he reminded himself that changelings could travel vertically just as easily as in any other direction.
The newcomer hissed something, and Chrysalis turned back to Caramel and asked, “How are your speaking lessons coming along?”
“I know some… but talk it… bad,” he replied in mangled Vespid. Sash was a great teacher, but he still lacked some of the body parts necessary to ‘speak’ certain words, and simple phrases were already stretching the limits of his vocabulary. He briefly wondered whether there were any changelings as finicky about grammar as some ponies were.
“Hmm.” Chrysalis turned to the changeling hanging from the ceiling and said, “I’ve brought you a new worker, and I want you to speak Equestrian for his benefit. Try to group him with those who have surface experience.”
The changeling buzzed down, and Caramel saw that it was one of those higher-ranked fellows with a longer horn and slightly iridescent carapace. It knelt before the queen and said in a husky voice, “As you wish.”
Before Caramel could say anything, Chrysalis was already ambling off and he was left alone with the changeling. They stared at each other for several seconds, he in nervousness and it in curiosity. Finally it broke the silence and said in smooth Equestrian, “Okay, let’s get this over with. I’m Anther, and I’ll be your Overseer until further notice. You have been assigned to Forager Caste; we’re basically the gatherers of the hive.”
Caramel blinked. “Gatherers?”
“Yes. We grow the hive’s primary food source. Follow me.”
Primary food? So changelings did eat something other than love. He licked his still-bloody gums from where his teeth had fallen out, feeling the tips of his new teeth just beginning to poke out. It looked like he was finally going to find out what those fangs were for.
Anther led him down an incline, deeper into the chamber, and before long Caramel noticed that every surface was coated in a thick, spongy material. It was greyish in colour with white veins creeping over its surface, and their steps left depressions in it wherever they went. But the stuff did not take long to spring back into shape once their hooves were lifted. Globes of luminescence hung from the ceiling like eerie lanterns, and in their green light he could see that the chamber was littered with mounds and mounds of detritus. A closer inspection of one of the mounds told him that they consisted mostly of rotting branches, logs, and even a few piles of leaves. The whole lump was basically garden refuse. And creeping over those mounds were more of those white veins, this time with fluffy fibres sprouting from their tips. There were many places where the veins clustered together, coalescing into yellowish-white, grapefruit-sized blobs.
Fungus. So that was what the spongy stuff was—the entire cavern was covered in it. A soft whistle escaped him as he surveyed the place, feeling like a small animal trapped in the stomach of some gigantic monster.
About twenty other changelings were trundling purposefully about the place, backs laden with woven, resinous baskets stuffed with fungus blobs and the occasional mushroom. Well, so much for the apple orchard idea. The changelings clearly had their own form of agriculture, and it didn’t look like they would need anything else anytime soon.
He jumped when something fell across his back, and turned to find a pair of empty baskets slung on either side of him. Anther was grinning and promptly pointed a holey foreleg at one of the mounds. “Well, get to work. It’s harvest time!”
Caramel trotted over to the mound and stared at the nearest lump of fungus. He lifted a hoof, but just before touching it turned back to Anther to get some confirmation as to whether that was the right thing to do. The overseer was already at a different mound, chattering away with another changeling as they worked. There was going to be no help from him, then.
Oh well. Pony see, pony do. The task looked simple enough; all he had to do was pluck the blobs off the pale rooty things and stuff them into the baskets. He grabbed a medium-sized one with both front hooves and pulled. The ‘roots’ beneath it stretched a little, but did not give way. He frowned when he saw other changelings harvesting theirs with apparent ease, and tugged a little harder on the blob. The stupid thing still refused to yield. Gritting his teeth, he braced himself and heaved… and the blob promptly imploded with a wet splat as its roots snapped back into place, leaving what looked like the bottom half of a muffin stuck to the mound and a dozen chunks of oozing fungus stuck to his hooves and face.
“Well done, numbskull. You’ve wasted good food,” a new voice rasped.
Caramel turned and grunted in surprise as a pair of changelings shouldered past him. After wiping the dripping pieces off his face, he scowled at the newcomers and protested, “Well it’s my first time. I wasn’t exactly given a tutorial on how to do this.”
“Yes, Rax, give the pony a break,” said the other changeling. “You were nearly as bad as him when you first showed up here.” It waved a hoof at Caramel to get his attention, then forced it beneath the base of a fungus blob and pulled at the top with its other hoof. The fungus came off with a soft snap. It then tossed the blob into one of Caramel’s baskets and said, “Easy as pie. You just use one of the sharper edges of your hoof holes to slice at the roots.”
“Umm…” Caramel lifted up a foreleg. There were no holes in his leg—not yet, anyway.
The second changeling blinked. “Oh, that’s too bad, then. I suppose you’ll have to do without. Try twisting them at the base; it usually helps.”
Caramel followed its advice, and found it rather more effective. The blob didn’t come off as easily as he’d seen; it still broke off and left a little of its base behind, but at least its top didn’t come apart like the previous one.
“Thanks,” he said to the helpful changeling.
“You’re welcome.”
“I’m Caramel, by the way.”
“Mantis.” The changeling didn’t smile, but her tone wasn’t hostile, either. Caramel wasn’t sure how, but he somehow knew that Mantis was female. Now that he thought about it, he’d registered Anther as a male without giving it much thought either. It was puzzling. Maybe changelings all had some other sense that he hadn’t been aware of.
“And this little spot of sunshine is Thorax,” Mantis continued with a grin, indicating to the one that had mocked him earlier. Again, he could tell that that changeling was male.
Caramel nodded amicably, but got no acknowledgement from Thorax. He simply carried on plucking fungus blobs without even sparing him a glance. Caramel maintained his friendliness for a moment longer, just in case he changed his mind.
The changeling eventually did turn to him, though it was with a scowl. “What do you want—a hug? I’m not here to be your friend.”
Caramel instantly dropped his smile and traded it for a frown. And a jolly good day to you, too…
“Oh, just ignore him,” Mantis said, waving a hoof. “He’s just sore about being forced to work in Forager caste. Thinks that just because he’s Warrior caste he’s too good for us, or something.” She then leaned closer to Caramel and whispered conspiratorially, “Of course, if you ask some of us, it was probably because he’d ticked off the queen. We found him drunk as a skunk outside of Canterlot after the royals brought the shield back up, which was pretty bad form considering he was supposed to be our leading infiltrator.”
“I’m here because I was ordered to fill in for the slackers who didn’t return to their posts after the invasion,” snapped Thorax. “And the other bit was only because the princess had stuffed me into a barrel of apple cider during the fighting.”
“I was at the wedding,” Caramel interjected. “Princess Celestia was beaten by your queen. When did she get a chance to do that?”
“Told you he’s a fibber,” Mantis whispered again.
Thorax shot her a glare. “The other princess, dimwit.”
Caramel blinked. “But… I heard that she was asleep during the attack.”
“She was.” Thorax grimaced, as if remembering something rather painful. “Do any of you ponies know that she sleepwalks? And that she can out-shout a dragon in her sleep? I still don’t think my eardrums have recovered from that.”
Princess Luna? Sleepwalking? That’s crazy! He turned to Mantis for verification, but she only shook her head and shrugged.
Thorax grumbled to himself and resumed his work, muttering, “I don’t know why I bother…”
Caramel took that as a reminder to get back to work, too. Most of the other changelings were very sparing in their conversations, and it probably wouldn’t do to give Chrysalis a bad first impression of his work ethic. So he set his mind to the task at hoof, plucking one fungus lump after another and tossing them into his baskets. There were scores and scores of them to harvest, and even with Mantis’ advice on how to pluck them more efficiently, it was still a lot of work. Whenever his baskets were full, other changelings came over to relieve him of them and to provide him with new, empty ones. When a mound was cleared of all its fungus, they simply moved to the next one. This went on for almost two hours straight, and by that time Caramel was feeling dreadfully hot and sweaty.
He slumped to the floor and sighed. The last lump of fungus in sight had been plucked; every mound was bare save for the white veins. Though he was tired, it was a good kind of tiredness—he felt like he had done something productive.
“Hey, get up—we’re not done yet!” Thorax snapped.
Caramel glanced around the chamber and gave him a blank look. “What else is there to do? There’s nothing left.”
“Exactly. That’s why we’re going to clear the mounds. They all need a turning over,” the irritable changeling replied, buzzing his wings impatiently.
Caramel didn’t move quickly enough, and Thorax zapped him on the cutie mark with a little green bolt of energy from his horn, causing him to yelp and jump up. “Okay, okay, I got it!” he muttered, rubbing his flank. Sheesh. Some ponies.
Mantis was already chewing through the white veins creeping over the detritus. Once they were severed, Thorax motioned Caramel to help him with moving a particularly large log. Together, they heaved and managed to drag it out of the main pile, causing a miniature avalanche of rotting sticks, leaves and other dirty things.
“Spread them around,” Mantis instructed. “The fungus needs fresh fertiliser on its surface, and the stuff underneath is already all used up.”
Caramel winced as they dug deeper into the pile. She wasn’t kidding—the bottom of the pile was mushy and stank of rot and filth. He was pretty sure he hadn’t imagined the noxious yellow cloud that wafted out of the stuff. Neither changeling seemed bothered in the least, though, so he grimaced and continued to help them in hauling the stuff around, doing his best to ignore his nostrils’ pleas for mercy.
They spread the detritus out onto the cleaner surfaces of the spongy floor, forming new piles which he surmised were to provide the next harvest. Every now and then, another changeling would trudge by to deposit fresh refuse, no doubt collected from the surface. Once the mound was complete, Mantis and Thorax started weaving their forelegs back and forth over the refuse. Something thick and viscous oozed out of the holes in their legs, and they were careful to spread it evenly over the pile. Caramel was unable to contribute, but gladly took the opportunity to simply watch and catch his breath.
It was the same with the next mound, and the next one after that. The changelings were clearly intent on redistributing every single pile of refuse in the cavern. Sighing heavily, Caramel resigned himself to another two hours or more of labour.
* * * * *
It was on demolishing their last mound that Caramel dug out something rather interesting. It was black and round, and had a curved, sharp projection on one side of it. When he felt along its surface, some dirt caved in to reveal a large opening, and his other hoof penetrated to form a second hole right next to it. He felt his blood go cold. It was a skull.
He cried out in a voice that was far too high-pitched for a stallion and dropped it back into the pile of detritus. This mound wasn’t as far gone as the rest had been. He saw it in a different light, now. A long rod-like thing with a broken, jagged end poking out of some dead branches; curved, shattered half-loops buried under some leaves; a hollow cylindrical object dotted with holes. This wasn’t just a pile of garden refuse; it was a changeling grave.
Caramel looked up and found his two workmates silently observing him. Mantis seemed to be a little perplexed, whilst Thorax was wearing that smug, superior look that Shining Armour used to give any filly who freaked out whenever there was a spider around. He picked up the skull, grinning in a manner uncannily similar to Shining’s, and waved it in front of Caramel, saying, “What, you never seen someone’s moult before? It’s just dead skin and shell. Perfectly harmless, even to ponies.”
Caramel sighed. False alarm, then.
“Yup,” agreed Mantis. She then dug into the mound and pulled up a similar round object, showing it off to Caramel. It was shiny and black, too, but it also looked more solid than the one he’d previously touched. She grinned and said, “Now, this is a skull. I think it’s Palp’s—he’s not looking too good now, is he?”
“What do you expect?” Thorax replied. “It’s been almost a year. Never liked him much anyway, the dumb grub.”
Caramel suddenly felt ill. The changelings were holding the skull of their deceased relative in their hooves, and they were talking about him as if he was just some ornament on the mantelpiece! And they were feeding his remains to a fungus, leaving them to rot in a filthy pile of goodness knows what else, like common fertiliser, no less. He abruptly sat on his haunches and tried to quell his churning stomach. There wasn’t much in there, but that didn’t make it any less difficult or unpleasant.
“How can you even think about putting one of your relatives in one of these…” he waved a hoof at the mound, “—these things? They’re your brothers and sisters! Don’t they deserve better than that?”
“That’s debatable,” muttered Thorax. “Anyway, what do you expect us to do—toss them into a river? It’s a waste of time and resources. Literally. They’re better off down here helping to feed the rest of us. Besides, it’s not all that different from the way you ponies bury your dead. They will fertilise the ground, wherever they are.”
Caramel frowned and sputtered with indignation. “But—but… It’s not the same! We don’t use them, not like that!”
Mantis piped up, “Well, if you want to look at it that way… Isn’t it a compliment to them that they’re being helpful even after they’re gone? They make better fertiliser than any of the plant matter we gather from the surface. The only things longer-lasting and more effective are dragon bones and scales, and those are pretty hard to find. If we don’t do this, the fungus will take even longer to fruit, and one harvest a year is long enough.”
Caramel was silent as he pondered those words. It still felt wrong to him, even though he could see the sense in them. If this was a cultural thing, did it make it okay to use one’s kin like that? It was just so outlandish. He glanced about the cavern and shivered at the sight of the omnipresent white veins creeping along the floor and walls. Those things have tasted flesh, and they’re all around you, some panicky part of him whispered.
“I… I think I’m going to be sick,” he groaned.
“Well, be sick into the pile, if that’s the case,” Thorax bluntly replied. “It’ll make good fertiliser, too.”
Caramel snorted. He suddenly felt like holding it in just to spite him.
“Having fun? You seem to be getting along rather well.”
Caramel whirled round when he heard the extra voice and recognised Anther.
“He’s okay,” said Mantis. “Although he’s quite squeamish. Almost as bad as a filly.”
Am not! Caramel was about to snap a sharp retort, but stopped when he saw that Thorax was scowling rather intently at the overseer.
“No thanks to you,” grumbled Thorax. “Shouldn’t you be the one babysitting him? Queen Chrysalis said—”
“Absolutely nothing about me delegating the duty to more qualified individuals,” Anther cut him off. He grinned. “And since you seem to be doing it so well…”
Thorax’s eyes widened, and then narrowed again as he levelled a furious glare at Anther. “Oh, no you don’t. If you think that I’m going to do the stupid work that the queen gave you, you are—”
“I’m not thinking it; I know it.” Anther was also staring rather intensely at Thorax. “From now on, you’re going to show Caramel how things are done in the hive. Where he eats, sleeps, works, and whatever else the queen sees fit for him to do. And you are not to let any harm come to him.”
Caramel looked back and forth between the two changelings in bewilderment. There was something going on between the two of them, but he wasn’t quite sure what. Thorax was gritting his teeth as if he’d been told to solve a calculus problem in five seconds or less. A moment later, the changeling sagged and vehemently growled, “Fine.”
“Good.” Anther smiled and trotted away.
“Stupid grub,” Thorax mumbled in Vespid.
The overseer whirled round. “What was that, Rax?”
“Nothing.”
Mantis snickered, and Thorax shot her a venomous look. He then turned to Caramel and snapped, “Well, what are you waiting for? Let’s finish off this stupid pile and get this stupid chore over with.”
* * * * *
When they were finally done with the mounds, Caramel was willing to trade a leg for a shower. Or maybe even for a puddle to roll in. His coat was caked with dirt and sweat, and try as he might, he hadn’t completely avoided getting some grime into the sores on his legs. He was also weary to the bone. But he kept silent and simply followed as Thorax led him towards the resting chambers.
They had to go through a vertical shaft to reach it from the fungal chamber, and Caramel was relieved to find that climbing was still within his capacity, in spite of his weariness. Surprisingly, he found himself more concerned about Thorax than himself. The changeling was decidedly moody as he crawled up the shaft, barging past other changelings going in the opposite direction and being generally prickly whenever any tried to speak to him.
“Hey, you okay?” Caramel asked.
“I’m fine, just shut up and follow,” Thorax groused.
In spite of his companion’s sharp tone, Caramel’s curiosity won over caution. “What happened back there?”
Thorax stopped, crawled back down to Caramel’s level, and then jabbed a hoof into his chest. “Anther made me do his job, that’s what; looking after you.”
“Can’t you take this up to Chrysalis? You don’t really have to do what he says, right?”
“He’s an overseer,” Thorax replied, as if that was all the answer needed. He then continued climbing, and that was apparently the end of the discussion. Caramel wasn’t sure why, but he suddenly felt guilty about being an inconvenience to him, even though it technically wasn’t his fault. Anther was starting to appear the jerk in this case, but he really couldn’t say for sure without getting to know more about them. Heck, Thorax himself seemed quite like a jerk, too.
The shaft eventually opened up into a chamber interspersed with columns of rock. The lighting was even dimmer than the rest of the hive, and there were dark shapes all along the walls and ceiling. It took Caramel a moment to realise that they were all changelings – forty or so of them – clinging to the rock. Their eyes were shut, and aside from their breathing and the occasional wing twitch, they were completely still.
“Get some sleep. We’ll get back to harvesting in four hours,” said Thorax in an undertone.
“Err, I’m guessing that that wasn’t the only plantation, then.”
“Of course not. There are twenty other chambers like it. Five are done, the rest will need our attention soon.”
Caramel slumped to the floor.
“Tough. Get used to it,” Thorax growled.
“Yeah, yeah, I will,” Caramel replied, squaring his shoulders. “Us ponies aren’t as useless as some of you think.”
Thorax stalked off without another word.
Caramel watched him go, and then called out, “Hey...”
The changeling paused, and he could tell from the way his ears twitched that he was listening.
“Thanks. I mean, I appreciate what you’re doing for me, even if it wasn’t your choice. I know it’s not easy playing nice with strangers.”
Thorax stood silently for a moment. Then, after quickly glancing around, he took something out of one of the holes on his legs and tossed it over to Caramel. He caught it and realised that it was a chunk of fungus. He tried to give Thorax a questioning look, but the changeling was already gone.
So, it’s a present? Judging by the changeling’s mannerisms, it was probably one that he shouldn’t be giving.
He gingerly bit into the lump with his remaining good teeth. It was tasteless and rubbery on the outside, but the inside was spongy and sweet, with a slightly bitter aftertaste. He chewed on it for a while, wondering. Thorax didn’t seem like the sort to give away things for no reason.
The fungus was surprisingly filling for such a little piece—either that, or his stomach was shrinking. Whatever the case, Caramel was too tired to care. He wandered around a bit, but found that this stretch of the hive was little more than a dormitory. He picked a bare spot with the fewest changelings clinging to the ceiling overhead, and then curled up with his back against a rock column.
One last thought ran through his mind before sleep took him.
Weird. Did I just make a friend?
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yay, plot development!
I like your take on the Changeling society, looking forward to more chapters.
I'm loving this story.
Got to agree with Emblis, I'm finding the development of the society through Caramel's eyes to be intriguing.
Hmm, insight into changeling culture and society, quite liking it.
Fun. They do feed on stuff other then love.
Magnificent.
So he becomes a changeling to change into somepony his very speical somepony loves...? I don't get it.
2014000
His very special somepony is a changeling, so he became a changeling in order to be with her.
2014044 Oh, okay. How can anyone fall in love with a changeling though?
2014049 the same way a Asian can fall in love with a african
media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lzzi6cUfk91qj2vh0.gif
I can't wait for more of this. It's fascinating.
This is awesome, keep up the good work.
Not bad at all. Quite enjoying it! Looking forward to more.
It's Thorax! I remember him.
And wow... talk about gruesome efficiency. That's pretty creepy. I wonder what Sash would say to explain it to Caramel, from the viewpoint of a changeling who has lived the majority of her life amongst ponies? That could help soothe his worries (and keep him from vomiting every time he goes to work).
Another great chapter. I love this story.
2014049 They were childhood friends. He didn't know she was a changeling until after the failed invasion. Upon that realization, he went to go search for the hive in the hopes of finding her again. I assume she was originally meant to keep an eye on Ponyville from a young age and she ended up becoming close friends with Caramel.
As for the changelings, I'm loving the idea that they have an agriculture system similar to leaf-cutter ants, as well as having a tunnel system designed around their ability to climb on walls and ceilings.
Nice take on changeling culture, refreshing imagination in his story. Anyways, I'm liking the character development, keep it up!
Again, impressive!
Your descriptions of the hive and level of detail invested in the changeling social system are really top-notch.
Yay, more story! I like the world building that's been going on. The details about Caramel's physiological transformation are repulsive, but absolutely fascinating. I'm looking forward to more chapters!
*Alondro hmms* So fungus can feed on their internal organs... excellent... *he begins to work on creating a transgenic variant of the ant zombie fungus Ophiocordyceps unilateralis to infect the Changelings!*
Soon they will all die...
Poison you fool, it's poison they need to be cooked first!
2016922, I will work on the saprolings
this story is just awesome
I maintain that Changelings are the pony version of Vampires. Feeding on ponies, fangs, living in dark caverns, sneaky, bonus to Illusion... Vampires. Gives me a great idea for a story based on Immortal Blood.
This chapter is... mostly good. I just have one teensy-itty-bitty problem: the booming sounds and rumbling that got Caramel to discover the change to his hooves in the first place were completely forgotten. I see how "your" Caramel is a mite forgetful, but I don't think he would have forgotten if the first thing that came to his mind was to start worrying about Ursas and dragons. Chrysalis didn't seem concerned, and if that was the reason Caramel didn't pursue the subject, it would be nice to have at least a one-sentence recognition of that thought process.
2029186 Hmm. You've got a point there.
It'll most likely be addressed in the next chapter.
Caramel seems like a really cool pony. He knows what he wants, he has a backbone, and he's taking the transformation in stride. The hive is a really neat place, and I like what I've seen of it so far. I'm looking forward to the next chapter.
Such great changeling world building. This would be worth reading even without the interesting story.
2014155 More like the way a salmon can fall in love with a trout, considering that Ponies and Changelings are different species, unlike Africans and Asians who both are Homo Sapiens Sapiens or "the double wise human".
Just wanted to make it clear. 
Remember kids, never compare humans from different parts of the world with different species of animals.
Being one who loves experiencing different cultures, I find this very fascinating. Everything we see is normal to them, and oddly enough I somehow feel that familiarity despite the obvious strangeness. They don't waste anything, including their dead. That part was mostly where I got that feeling. Mantis and Thorax joked around about it, but being used as food for the other changlings after death is sort of... honorable, in a way. It's weird to say that since to use using our dead as literal fertilizer is more than demeaning, but the way they put it makes a lot of sense and in actuality gives each member of the hive a use after death.
On a different note, I felt a bit of Caramel's glee when he started climbing the walls. At first it reminded me of the first Spiderman movie, but then it turned into a child learning an amazing, new trick and I found that quite adorable and fitting for a pony like him. Oddly enough the only thing that would have completed the scene would be Caramel's fang-y grin had those teeth come in at that point.
I can't wait to see more from this! You've more than piqued my interest.
2038099 fair doo's
2040994 spider pony, spider pony, does whatever a spider pony does, LOOK OUT, its spider pony...
2069792 three hoofmarks? I think not
clumsy, forgetful, confused...
Interesting: Check.
Originality: Check.
Well written: Check.
Gruesome descriptions of bodily mutation: Check!
I do say, I like it!
Alas, poor
YorickPalp! I knew him,HoratioThorax.This whole thing is becoming quite the intriguing exploration of changeling culture. Not to mention, it's neat seeing the characters of A Canterlot Wedding: Deleted Scenes making a return. :D
So fungus gathered from inside ones hoof is considered a gift in Changeling society......interesting, and disgusting.
My only gripe is seeing the same changeling names you see in lots of other changeling-themed stories. Other than that, this is a very well written and enjoyable story!
(must...read....moar...chapters....
)
Thorax Was in dees chapter... Moar Plez
3318615 you forgot repulsive.
He really needs to start using proper terminology. All other Changeling fics I've read (mostly MLC: Friendship is Weird and A Novel Tale) the changelings use 'ling' instead of 'pony'. Someling, anyling, etc.
5371956
Maybe I'm not paying enough attention, but the only time I noticed "pony" was in reference to Caramel. And he's still pretty much pony, so...
...Oh, and Caramel in reference to others. "Some ponies"... But that's not like he's actually calling then ponies. It's a language/culture thing, and I mean "someling" really just sounds terribly awkward.
Neh.
2014534 Well, some ancient human civilisations used or even ate their dead. And in this case it makes a lot of sense. Badlands are a wasteland, rich soil and fertilisers are at an incredible premium, so anything that helps grow things is worth its weight in gold. And a cemetery would just be a waste of space.
Cya
Raziel-chan
Thorax - 2012 from the fanfic "Integration".
Vs
Thorax https://derpibooru.org/tags/thorax 2016 from the show.
Coincidence? You choose.
I expected to see more comments about this story's Thorax and canon Thorax.
Sorely disappointing.
This story, however, isn't the least bit disappointing. Earlier on, individual lines seemed to be written poorly, but I've greatly enjoyed reading this far. The concept alone was enough to warrant a click, and you've managed to make such a wild subversion on changeling fics work and not let the, ah, assimilation process feel terribly convoluted.
Eyebrow raised...
Pretty good chapter
Ah, but he cheated! Chrysalis said he had to fly out of the chamber!
9201923
Considering it was written well before the colorizing, it's not surprising in the least, actually.
Very much enjoying this, I can see why it's a fandom classic.
Naming him 'Thorax' was a decision that did not date well.