Hibernation

by RomanCandle

First published

When food is scarce, it is best to sleep until it can be found again.

When a nation is starving, it must expand to feed the populace.
Sometimes, this means war.
Sometimes, war is lost.
But a good leader will not accept defeat until Death himself commands them, and will fight for the survival of their people even amid a crushing defeat and abject humiliation. A good leader will not quit.
A good leader is willing to wait.

Chrysalis is one such leader.

Metamorphosis

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The Wastes were not the Everfree. There was no wild magic here to bring life.

There were not ponies, either. No Earth Ponies to grow trees, no Pegasi to bring a passing cloud, nor a solitary Unicorn to conjure a stream of water to relieve the scorching heat. Wind tossed dust and dead plants about the badlands but served to do no more than dehydrate any poor unfortunate soul to be out and exposed.

There was, however, a tall black structure that shone like obsidian. Where the sun hit it, it would scald softer flesh. But in the wake of the numerous holes that were scattered amongst it there was shade. Sweet, sublime shade.

From some angles, the structure appeared perfectly straight and smooth, as jet-black obelisk. But a spin around would reveal the larger holes and give the structure a jagged, pock-marked appearance. It had a unique appeal to it, clearly not a natural structure but emanating an organic vibe nonetheless.

Rough Trails wiped the sweat from his brow and whistled as he observed from a cliff. He'd been told to expect the unexpected, but what lay before him was beyond unexpected, it was undocumented, unprecedented. He motioned to his assistant, a cream-colored Earth Pony mare, and then pointed her to the dark tower.

"Sugar Step, can you sketch that?"

She adjusted her hat and a bit of her light-brown mane popped out. She squinted, made a face, and nodded. Rough Trails began to pace and babble as she set down, pencil in her mouth moving lightly across paper.

"Great Alicorns in Canterlot I can't believe we found it. We've been trekking through this place how long? It's been weeks, at least. Maybe a month? Two months? I can't remember, I'd have to check. It's incredible, is what it is. Can you believe they built it all the way out here, so far from where they came from in distance and in ecology?" He stopped, shook his head, and laughed. "I see it right there and I can hardly believe it. I can't believe anything is still standing, how long ago were they banished?"

"Mpfmfpfpfmpf." Sugar Step wiped spittle from her drawing very carefully, then spat out the pencil. "A few hundred years, I think. You're the historian, I'm just your note-taker." She picked up her pencil in her hoof and examined it. It was covered in dirt. She sighed.

Trails laughed."Yes, yes, quite right. If you have the sketch done, let's head out for it, shall we? I think we can make it there before sunset."

Sugar Step dusted off her notebook and pencil before setting them carefully back into her bag. "Alright boss."

The brown stallion chuckled and started walking. "I'm not your boss. We're colleagues."

"Sure thing, boss."

"I'm serious, Sugar. The Princess commissioned us together. You're working with me, not for me. There's a difference."

"Whatever you say, boss."

Rough Trails sighed. Sugar Step chuckled.

"Hey, boss."

"...Yes, Sugar?"

"You're a specialist on Changelings, right?"

"Yes, that's why I was picked for this job. They're what I know best."

"How come?"

He stopped for a moment and turned back to face her. "Because I studied them extensively?"

"Yeah but how come?" Sugar Step kept walking and Rough Trails picked up again when she met his side.

"I'm not sure I follow."

"Why Changelings, of all the interesting things in history? I took this job because I like learning new things and sharing them with other ponies. I like to help. You, I figure, must like Changelings. Why?"

Trails hummed as he thought. "Well, when I was a little colt, I remembered seeing a drawing of them once, and they just looked so interesting. Did you know that, dragon fire and Alicorns aside, they're the only known species to exhibit both wings and manipulable magic?"

"So you liked them because they all had wings and horns like an Alicorn?"

He made a face. "No, not really. That's why they were interesting to start. Alicorns are so rare, but Changelings all have a horn and wings, even if they are insectile. Did you know, for instance, that while they do posses a unicorn-like horn, all except the Queen and possibly Kings are limited to raw energy blasts and their shape-shifting magic? I think some Mages theorized that the lack of grooves on their horns limits their control, which supposedly explains the jagged horn shape of the leaders - as a compensation to allow greater control."

"So like the mind-control magic that Chrysalis used in that one wedding, right?" Sugar Step had picked up a blade of wild grass and was chewing on it.

"Well, yes and no. That was more of a memory repression spell, I think I was told. It kept Shining Armor - the stallion in question - from recognizing that his bride-to-be was acting differently than she should be. I'm no unicorn, I can't get the specifics on it."

They walked in silence for a while, and the tower grew in size as the sun began to set. Cooler air sunk out of the holes in the obelisk and created a gentle, moist breeze. Sugar Step chewed on her blade of grass.

"So...no opinion on the emotional rape part then?"

Rough Trails jerked. "What makes you use that kind of terminology?"

She shrugged. "Well, it's kind of what they do, innit? They fake being somepony you care about so that they can eat the emotions you feel for them. It's not particularly violent, I suppose, but it's about the right kind of violation for that word. It's still a very personal invasion."

Trails stopped and looked up at the giant tower. "...I can see your point. What most ponies know of Changelings is just from the wedding incident when they were banished, and what happened to that poor couple is definitely befitting that title. But that's not the norm. Tell me, Sugar, do you know where Changelings come from?"

The mare tilted her head as she thought. "Can't say I do. Just knew they got knocked out here after that fiasco and weren't let out. Kinda figured this'd be where they'd come from. Seems a fitting enough place."

The stallion continued. "They hail from areas like Everfree, places rampant with Wild Magic. Places where normal ponies can't live. Now, if they had to steal emotions from ponies like you and me, how could they live where ponies like us can't?"

"Good question. I don't have an answer. I'm guessing you do."

Trails nodded and continued walking again. Sugar Step joined him. "I do, in fact. They have been documented as taking care of injured wildlife in the areas they're native to, and protecting the way things work. In exchange, they feed off the love projected by the ones they care for. Their shape-shifting ability enables them to sneak in and out of places without alerting aggressive creatures and also in scaring them away at times. They usually live in small colonies."

Sugar Step scrunched her nose as they approached the base of the tower, now in the shade of the Earth as the sun lowered itself. "So then how come they came all the way up to Canterlot to invade if they could live all hunky-dory in their forests?"

Rough Trails shrugged. "One can only guess. Nopony was able to interrogate Chrysalis. But - " and he pointed to the base of the gigantic tower they now stood beside, which had a pony-sized hole slanting up from the ground. " - we might just be able to find out."

The mare and stallion ceased their conversation and walked into the cavern. The walkway was smooth and steep, built for chitinous creatures instead of soft-shorn ponies, but they managed. Other canals merged into theirs as they spiraled upwards, taking unexpected twists and turns. Sugar Step looked back a moment and found it impossible to tell which tunnel they had initially come from. "Down" was going to be their cardinal direction in going back, it seemed.

But one thing was for sure, the tunnel grew in width as they progressed upwards, and there was never a fork in the forward path. Trails pointed out sockets in the wall filled with a glowing green goo, which had become the only identifiable source of light.

"See that? That's a photosynthetic material. Most Changeling species have it in their blood as an additional food source. It's a produced gel, and it absorbs sunlight to re-emit it like this if it's not eaten. It's also said to be very sweet tasting."

Sugar Step swatted his hoof away from the wall. He grinned at her sheepishly.

"Ah. Yes, we should continue on."

They did, though the twisting seemed to continue forever. The glowing gel pockets increased in frequency as they rose, in changing patterns.

"I bet that these have some code to them, some instruction or warning. If the light weren't so faded I'd get out my codice and figure out if or what they were saying..." Sugar Step bumped him with her head. "Oh poo, you won't let me have any fun, will you?"

"Nope. We can check that out later. Keep moving, boss."

The pattern of movement continued undisturbed, the glowing packets shifting gradually in position into some unknown message, or perhaps just convenient locations for food and light. Sugar Step hummed some simple tune as they walked, an old lullaby. She cut short on a minor chord when Rough Trails whistled a long note of appreciation.

"What's - "

A great cavern now stood before them, many large cocoons suspended from the ceiling and walls glowing with the eerie food gel. Their clear and textured surfaces refracted the blue-green light the ooze emitted giving the dark hall a sense of royalty. In fact, a long table occupied the center of the room, though un-surrounded by chairs or places for seating. It seemed almost to be a slab of the black chitin that was simply levitated from the floor, or a large square bubble.

Rough Trails was fascinated, his eyes wide in admiration and awe. Even Sugar Step found herself speechless, and not for not trying.

Some of the cocoons twitched above, clinking together with a sound not unlike a crystal chandelier.

Trails took a careful, respectful step into the chamber, looking side to side, not wanting to miss a thing. Sugar Step walked in a little ways before setting down to sketch and take notes on what Trails began to rattle off.

"My goodness, look at the size of this! Do you see the structure up there? We're clearly in the peak of the Obelisk, I wonder if there are other chambers we could find, or if all the entrances just lead up to here? From what I'd read Changeling structures are supposed to hold many chambers for various minor Changelings...Oooo Sugar! Look at this, there's an actual Drone in here!" He gently poked a cocoon, setting it to rock gently. A dark form tapped the inside briefly before sliding back into the center as nothing more than a shadowy dark spot.

"Fascinating! They use the gel to feed themselves during a hibernation state! Oh, that answers quite a few questions. Many scholars wondered why they'd have another food source secondary in nutrients and energy content than what they get from the Magic of Love, but now it makes sense! They use it to sustain themselves in times of crisis! Oh I think that one moved. I wonder, do they dream? Questions have been asked about the nature of hibernation in addition to questions about the mental state of minor Changeling forms. Drones are the ones that are known about least, seeing as they're only found when a hive is seeking to expand it's territory...Oh! But that table, that's curious. I wonder what it's function is..."

Sugar Step snorted as she continued to sketch. It was hard to capture the atmosphere of the place with mere graphite, but the depth was remarkable. She scribbled something down about hibernation gel and made a face. The cocoons were swaying and the light kept changing.

"Oh my goodness there's writing on this slab! Oh where are my books, I need to translate this..." Trails spun in circles, trying to find his saddlebags. Sugar Step snorted and picked up her sketchpad, then trotted lightly over to Trails. She put a hoof on his withers to stop him, then reached into her bags.

"I was carrying all the books, remember?"

Rough Trails blushed and accepted the offered book. He set it down on the tablet and began to flip through, mumbling to himself and tracing a hoof down the symbols carved into the black table.

"Oh hmm...That's interesting. The form is off from normal. It's a bit difficult to decipher..."

Sugar Step sat down and began sketching again, waiting to take notes. She looked up and frowned - was there a breeze up there? She didn't feel anything down here. Maybe a temperature change from the setting sun? Possible. She ignored it.

"Ah, okay. It looks like a diary entry from the monarch, or something similar. That's odd. It's...kind of a monologue..."

It failed. We failed. I failed. I lost so many Drones in the blast, and no prisoners. So few survived, and so little energy to recuperate. No doubt all lands will be on alert for us for a great time to come. I have no choice in my actions, and construct this obelisk for out Hibernation.

"Oh, how sad. It appears they were forced into this because of their exile. I suppose better than death, but what a shame..." Rough Trails shook his head and continued reading.

The armada I built alone from naught but my own labors reduced to such short numbers. I had a swarm worthy of notice of the grandest hives, but they would not have me. No, I had to prove the strength of my strategy to make them understand why my way of thinking was superior. Why sitting quietly in the forests is the fools path. They are all fools. They will learn.

Trails furrowed his brow. Sugar Step stepped a bit closer. "Hey, Boss?"

We have so much potential, especially among the ponies. They are such a trusting race, so quick to care and so willing to share their love with anything and anyone. It's hard to walk the streets without feeling drunk on the feeling. And they are so plentiful and so easily converted to the cause.

He shook his head. Sugar Step prodded him. "Boss. Hey, Boss?"

I had thousands of Drones, all battle prime and worthy of the highest honors from any other hive. All I lacked was a mate to procure the other servants and an heir for myself. But that was half the point - with a territory as vast as even Canterlot alone, I would have my choice of mates. And with such plentiful Ponies for fodder as food or to be turned into Drones we would be unstopable. We would hide in the shadows no more, and no more would I be mocked and ridiculed for my ideas. The sheer force of my army is proof of the potential we have from Equestria. So we shall wait, biding our time like the apex predators we are meant to be, until food is available once more...

"Rough Trails!" Sugar Step backed away from him, crying out loud and breaking his fascination. The slab of a table he had been reading off of had cracked, and piles of the gel were oozing out into a puddle at his feet. He tried to back up and found himself stuck.

"Huh. This is much more adhesive than the samples we studied in the lab. I guess it must lose it as it ages - "

He turned and saw the entire cavern coated in the goo, many cocoons ripped open and bodies armored in slick black chitin swarming about. They surrounded all the walls and blocked the one entrance they had come in. Sugar Step was grappled by several, caught in the ooze they seemed immune to.

"Sugar Ste-" He was cut off by a resounding crack. He returned to look and saw a long, tall, craggy form standing before him. The gel slid off the black carapace of the Alicorn like form before him. A mane like webs shed glowing ooze as it leaned in and looked him in the eyes.

"Why look, a little Pony all my own." She stepped out of the sarcophagus and grinned a fanged smile. Sugar Step shrieked behind him, but Trails could not turn his head. He was terrified and enraptured at the same time.

"Thank you for your love, little pony. But you seem to have run out. It was enough, though. Enough for now. But...we still do need to recover our numbers, and you can definitely help with that."

"No, wait-" He was suddenly grasped by jagged hooves and thrust into a small cavern in the wall. He tried to get up but didn't have enough room to move properly. The entrance was covered by a film produced by several of the soldiers who had thrown him in, and began to fill with the glowing green gel. The last thing Rough Trails felt was the overwhelming desire to sleep, and fluid seeping into his nostrils.

Approximately one week later the chamber peeled open and something crawled out.

A few hours after that, two Changelings took off in the night, heading East towards Equestria and the siren song of their Queen.