Follow a young changeling struggling to survive in a place he should call home. Instead, he calls it a nightmare.
When I was young, I wasn't happy. I wasn't free or rich, I didn't even have a family. My childhood was a desolate thing.
I struggled to survive in the oldest, biggest hive ever to be built outside the Changeling Kingdom. War and poverty plague my home as the Hive prepares for a conflict it could not possibly win. I learnt to survive here when I was merely a new born. Foraging from scraps and hiding from sight, always looking over my shoulder.
I am Honour Bound, and this is my first solo project. With some input and ideas from friends, I've decided to make my own Changeling OC's back story. I'll tell you though, it's nothing like any other OC back story that's for sure.
I wanted to put some depth into this story, to really immerse you guys into what it really feels like to live in a place as poverish as this Changeling Hive. This is really my first attempt at writing by myself. Of course, I pitched in for the other two stories Discovering the Past and You Seek Knowledge?, but really, this is my first solo attempt. I hope I did well...
Remember, constructive criticism is welcome, I'm aiming to improve after all. Try to tone down the obscenities since I know a couple of U13s that look at my stories. Also, try to make the comments relevant to the story, nothing unrelated or vulgar please!
Got any personal questions? Just PM Astral and he'll get me to look at it.
When I was young, I did not live happily. I did not have friends, nor a family. No food, warmth or shelter to call my own. My childhood, is a desolate ruined thing, like an old tattered cloak just waiting to be thrown away. My father and mother abandoned me when I was very small, before I learned how to crawl. Death was always at my shoulder, like a vulture just waiting for me to keel over and die. I fed on scraps, what I would today know as garbage and filth. I could not speak, or use magic. I didn’t even have a name. I was a starving orphan, on the streets of the oldest hive outside our actual kingdom. Times were spent in a cold war as hate for the Crystal ponies only grew like a parasite feeding on our reason, leaving anarchy and stupidity to fill in the gaps. Fear of starvation gnawed on the edge of all our minds as food became scarce, and disease more prominent. I could not run through the streets without being beaten or cursed. I spent the rest of my life remembering what dystopia I was born into.
I was born to a bastard, drunken soldier and a whore he had used for several nights. As soon as I was conceived, plans were made for my ‘removal’. I was barely five minutes old before I was tossed into the street, along with the garbage they thought I was. Against all odds, I learned how to walk, and how to feed and drink. Life is a cruel teacher, as I learned the hardest possible way. Several times I fought for my right to live, for my right to have a home, for my very freedom. I was barely four years old before the conflict the whole hive had dreaded reared its ugly, blood soaked head. Years afterward, my life tumbled down into a pit of strewn with the bones of those I had killed for my own survival. The only opportunity I had to live a better life, was to leave the hive.
Yet, as I made the most foolish, most dangerous choice a Changeling could make, living became that much more bareable. In the wild, food was plentiful, as was water. Shelter was a small tree climb and a couple leaves away. I lived there in peace for years until the shadows of my past returned to tear away my spirit once more. The Changeling army marched across the forest I called home, burning all in their path. Hatred and fury was all they had beneath those eyes as they wiped away what little fortune I found for myself. Again, I was forced to flee my home, in search of greener pastures.
There, in my final place of rest, I met the best of friends I would cherish for all my life. There, I had a family, a home with a warm hearth. Other beings I could call brother, sister, mother and father.
I spent the rest of my life remembering what dystopia I was born into.
My name is now Honour Bound, and this is my story.
My earliest memories. Passing, blurred images and voices blended together like a bizarre piece of art. It was night, underneath the cold, dark starless night I was born. I knew my parents for a full 20 seconds at most. They were Changelings, insectoid creatures resembling horses, with blank, cyan compound eyes, holed hooves, crooked horns, insect wings and powers of deception. To me, they all looked the same, especially back then.
“Oh great, I knew this would happen,” my father had said
“You KNEW?” my mother screamed, obviously frustrated
She held me in her arms as she lay panting on a makeshift bed. Really, an old mattress in the living room floor, a hole in a sandstone wall. I felt her embrace, it felt warm, it felt right and yet, it felt hostile, cold, like I wasn’t wanted there. My mother’s embrace was anything but welcoming. I cried at this feeling, I wanted out.
“Where do we put it? I’m not keeping it,” my mother continued “I got a job to keep,”
“Put it in the trash,” another voice said, out of sight “No one’s gonna be any wiser,”
“Yeah, guard’s won’t question a newborn in the trash,” my father drawled with a roll of his eyes
“Yeah, but it won’t live 10 minutes without you two. Sure, the guards will question us about a newborn. What they won’t ask about is a corpse in the trash. Dead bodies gotta be the next commonest thing in the dump besides sewage,”
“You do have a point…”
When I was so young, I had no idea what they were discussing. All I did was cry my eyes out, over and over again. I wanted away from here so badly. These changelings were cold, they didn’t want me. I felt no love for me in any of the adults in the room. I was starving, thirsty and cold, not 5 minutes out of the womb.
Not even 5 minutes, and my father just voted me to be put in a trash can.
“Alright, hand it over, it’s going in the dumpster,”
And my mother let me go like I was nothing to her.
Out the window of a two-storey house I went, freefalling into a heap of waste and garbage. I didn’t even have a blanket on. I lay there, fragile body broken by rubbish. I was cold, hungry and so so young. No infant should start out the way I did. I should consider myself lucky, there were full grown changelings out there killed by less.
By sheer instinct, I scavenged food from my new dumpster home. My first meal, some kind of lumpy sludge, probably some rotten food that someone else tried out and hated. I ate it, it’ll probably the first bit of food I’ll come across in a long time. It made my stomach churn, my senses dull and my head hurt. But I held it down, because it’s all I had.
Crawling underneath the starless sky I knew I had to get away. From deep in my heart I knew that I couldn’t go back. They didn’t want me, didn’t love me. My own father tossed me out a window into the garbage for goodness’ sake. I just kept going, crawling under the light of the moon.
After what seemed like hours, I found the edge of the city. Abandoned, sprawling huts and a large river of waste was there to greet me. I crawled into a crack in the wall for shelter, and cried myself to sleep. My first bed was a pile of gravel, my first blanket the brisk night air, my first night alive…
Something I wish I would forget.
For the rest of my life as I close my eyes to sleep, I will forever be haunted by those memories. Of being abandoned, so small and weak. My own parents, who cast me out with the trash. My first night, sleeping at death’s door.
Scavenging for food on the edge of the hive is dangerous at the very best, suicidal if at the very worst. For me, it was an everyday chore that needed to be done. Food here was slightly easier to obtain here than in the city, mainly because few were stupid or desperate enough to even try. Sadly, I rank pretty high among the desperate ones. Being the youngest ‘street pest’ ever to survive alone carried much risk. Cannibalism was more often an occurrence than a simple mugging. Wading through the field of long rotten foods and waste, corpses were a common sight. If you were lucky, you could find a couple with some meat left on them.
Not today though, a couple apple cores, three rats and a bit of water was all I could scavenge for today. Nimbly traversing the sea of trash on the more stable islands, I safely made it back to the boundary with my meal in tow. My home, if it could be called that, was a small tarp-lined cave hidden inside a crack in the wall. Thanks to my size, I could fit through easily, but the older Changelings could not. Inside was a simple one room affair, with an old cloak for a bed, a pit for a fire as well as a pile of random things I’ve collected from the dump. My most prized possession was a blade, little more than a knife but easily a sword in my little hooves. It was a black, simple thing which I polished to a sheen every day. I see the same knife strapped onto every soldier I’ve seen so far.
Settling down with my food, I grab a piece of chalk and scratch a ‘|’ into the wall above my head, adding to the numerous other scratches. After finishing my less than satisfying meal, I only had one more place to go before I turn in for the day. Taking a bucket with me, I headed out once again.
(\^/)
The Changeling City was a mass of stone houses, clumsily carved into the low mountain’s face. If you weren’t already inside, all you could see was a huge conical spire, built with a glossy metal that reminded me of my prized knife. There was where all the wealthy changelings lived, which were a select few for the size of the structure. The lower elements were a maze of sandstone huts. They were fragile and let all the elements inside, either rain or cold air. I would give all of what little I had to live in one though. The tropical forests that encircled the city were engorged by the huge amounts of rainfall. My little hovel provided protection, but not merely enough to withstand a down pour.
Having made this trip for almost two years now, I had a firm map of the maze-like lay out of the lower elements firmly attached to my brain. Every twist and turn was committed to memory, as well as all the undesirables I was sure to meet. On the streets, it was kill or be killed. I was small and weak, barely a mouthful for the bigger street pests. If any were hungry enough though, I could end up on the menu. As well as the regular pests like me, you had the gangs, who sought survival the most violent way possible, and the disabled, changelings who fell from grace due to injury, age or financial ruin. These changelings knew next to nothing about survival, so most were left to die slowly, or quickly at the hooves of gangs.
After a while, I finally arrived at my stop. A square patrolled by guards like the centre of a maze. These bored, well-muscled changelings were the products of the unforgiving training regime that every recruit went through to become a soldier. What went in was a starving foal whose parents could no longer support, and thus sold it for temporary financial assistance. What came out after several years, was the pinnacle of physical shape. A merciless monster in navy blue armour. I knew not what happened to them in those years, but I was never eager to find out.
Their hooves beat the sandstone ground in a synchronised march around the central fountain. A simple stone well with a bubbling spring in the centre. It was the only source of water that I knew was completely clean. Drinking bad water was death wish here. We all knew how important water was for survival, yet whatever higher powers decided to put a hefty price on it. Six silver coins a bucket, if I had that much, I wouldn’t be where I am now, for a time at least.
All I had to do was wait for some civilian to come get some water, then I would dart in with my own bucket take some water and runaway as fast as I could. The civilian takes no punishment for it and I get a bucket of water, win-win. I did this every day of my life.
After a minute wait, I saw a small Changeling, smaller than me, in a brown robe approach the guards. It was a good head shorter than them, and carried bucket in its mouth. That told me it was either very young or very poor. Not as poor as me, but poor enough not to receive an education in magic. Weaving through should be easy.
I could see them now, the changeling reached into its cloak and withdrew six odd shards of silver that looked like they were pulled straight from the ground. The guards stopped their march to face the newcomer. One approached and took the silver shards, placing them in his armour. With that done, the guard nodded and motioned for the newcomer to advance with a shake of his spear. The changeling approached the well at an agonisingly slow pace, my muscles just itching to go.
Just when she reached down to scoop the clear liquid, I sprang into action. I galloped hard and fast, crossing the square in one second flat. The guards reeled in surprise, but quickly reached for their weapons, drawing swords and hefting spears, all towards me. The stranger dropped the bucket into the water as I approached, mouth agape in surprise.
As simple as that, I hoisted my bucket in the water and ran away.
Only, it wasn’t as simple as that.
(\^/)
Suddenly, a great pain lanced through my body. I collapsed just before I could retreat to the shadows of the adjoining alley. My precious water splashed across the sand, all that effort wasted. Looking back, I saw an ugly black stick tipped with feathers buried in my right back hoof, blood welling at the impact. A guard stood away from the rest, a bow held up by magic and a predatory smirk on his face.
Scrambling feebly back into the alley, the guards hot on my tail and my back leg out of action, I had little option left but to fly. I was a only a young nymph, so my wings were severely underdeveloped, but with will power, I managed to drag myself into the alley and down a sewer hole. The guards paused at the hole entrance, gazing in disgust at the torrent of sickly brown water down below. They knew that if my wound got infected down there, I was sure to die.
The torrent enveloped me instantly, a thick green-brown mess not worthy of the name liquid. It washed me down the rocky tunnels without concern as I was dashed against every single adjoining wall and odd jutting stone. All that was clear was repetitive lances of pain. I kept my mouth lest I swallow any of this foul liquid.
It seemed like it went on for hours, constantly tumbling and turning through the sewage. As confusing as the journey was, I knew where I was heading. It was a place I went to regularly after all.
By the time I could breathe, I was haphazardly tossed into the river of waste, just at the outskirts of the city where I foraged every day. My body ached so much that I almost preferred death. Being dumped in a river with water so dense that every piece of garbage formed a hard covering over it, hurt.
A lot.
What made it worse was that arrow wound. The pain in my leg lessened to a dull throb now. I couldn’t decide whether my leg’s getting better, or it’s dying on me. In either case, I dragged myself out of the river of sludge and back into my little hide away. Thankfully, it was just one minute away, even with a lame leg. I couldn’t stay wounded forever though. A wounded changeling was a dead changeling on the streets of the hive.
My little cubby hole greeted me with the same fuzzy feeling I got every time I entered. It’s what home feels like, and it felt good, especially after today’s ordeal. Looking back at it, a lot of things went wrong back then. For example, the higher powers decided to station archers at the well. Arrows did little to the adult Changeling thanks to our thick exoskeleton, so they were usually saved for the coming war front. I guess they had enough of me stealing their water.
Whatever the case, I needed to clean myself up, fast. My wound is bad enough, but being tossed around in the sour made it life threatening. I had no medicine or clean water to speak of though, and I’m now nowhere fast enough to steal again, let alone outrun an archer. Looks like I’ll have to go without it. I’ve gone without water to drink before, but that ugly black arrow could spell the death of me.
Huddling under my tattered cloak blanket, I tucked myself in for the day. I might try again at night time, but until then, I was off to sleep.
(\^/)
Night comes quickly when you’ve been asleep for the day. The silver grey moonlight filtered through my tarp lined cave, waking me along with the brisk night air. The moon illuminated the street in an eerie, blue-grey glow. Not a single light was on in any of the houses. It was dead silent, naught but the howling winds could be heard outside.
My leg was all numb now, like a pins-and-needles sensation that won’t go away. I must have turned in my sleep, because the arrow shaft lay broken in my bed. It was alright though, I was going to remove that pesky thing anyway. What worried me most was the hole in my leg that wasn’t there before. An ugly, pus filled breach that worked its way through like the remnants of a disease, topped with plenty of dried blood. The arrow head was still embedded in there, I was afraid to touch it. Just because I couldn’t feel pain there anymore, doesn’t mean it wouldn’t hurt me.
Peeking outside, it was completely deserted there. I knew that few changelings went outside after dark, but this was an all-new level of silence. It bothered me, a niggling suspicion at the back of my mind. Knowing my luck, it would come back to bite me later, but for now, I needed to clean this wound.
The eerie silence comforted me enough to take the direct route along the street. I walked in jagged strides, struggling to compensate for my injured leg. It was infected, I was sure of that. What I hoped for was that it wasn’t poisoned. Being a race of infiltrators, spies, deceivers and warriors, the concept of poison was not unheard of. The Royal Archers were notorious for poisoning their arrows. I couldn’t tell if my assailant from before was your regular garden variety, or the kind that killed you slowly.
The well greeted me minutes later, a round medieval stone circle, and oddity in the flat, plain square. The water was cool and still, reflecting the light and shape of the full moon. I looked at myself in it. It had been a while since I had. Glass was the first thing to get broken once it arrived on the streets. As far as I knew, only ponies could make glass.
I had to admit, I was in good shape for a street pest, if a little on the thin side. My shell was darker than a normal changeling’s and my eyes an emerald green. Other than that, there was not much else to distinguish me from other changelings. However, you won’t find many deviating from the natural blue-eyed changelings.
Then there was my wound. I was no doctor, but I could tell I was in trouble. If I hadn’t lived next to a sewer for my whole life, I might have gagged or thrown up. I was sick, that was for sure. I dispelled the idea of just dipping my leg in the well. As amusing as it sounded, I didn’t want to poison it for the other changelings. On the other hoof, I didn’t have a bucket. I must’ve lost it when I jumped in the sewer. I internally cursed myself, there was no getting it back now. No doubt the guards took it for their own reasons.
Hello…?
What? A voice? Not likely. The street was completely deserted in all directions. I must be hearing things.
You are not hearing things…
It sounded more irritated this time. Okay, maybe the infection’s gone to my brain.
Listen to me…
Having no parents, there was no one to tell me how to read, write or even speak. My thoughts weren’t words, but basic feelings and instincts. Yet, I could understand this voice as clearly as the well beside me. This was not my imagination speaking, but it did speak through my thoughts. The voice was soft, serene even. It was female for sure, but didn’t carry that buzz that all changelings had when they talked. I was curious though, so I casually pricked my ear to listen some more.
Good, look into the well, young one…
The well?
I looked inside the stone circle to be met with not only the reflection of the moon, but a paranormal image in place of his own image. I had never seen a pony before, but this one just had to be. All I could see was her chest upward, but that was enough for me to tell that she was tall, very tall. Her coat shared the colour of the sky above, as did her hair and horn. Her hair rippled like ripples in a pond, but the well was still glass clear. Her entire form flickered in and out of the water’s surface. Her eyes were round and welcoming, with white irises complimenting a warm smile.
There you are…
Um, yeah, so?
She grinned wider
I have been looking for you, little Mira…
Mira? What’s Mira?
Why you of course. I’ve been looking for you…
I pondered this for a moment. A pony looking for me? Any smart pony would avoid contact with one completely, let alone talk with one inside the hive. Even if this is just some magical illusion, this pony must be crazy.
I’m not crazy…
She can hear my thoughts too? Great…
The mare in the mirror giggled. A light, sweet sound that made my heart flutter involuntarily.
There’s more to you than what you are right now, little Mira. There is great hope for you, at a cost…
I didn’t like the sound of that. I had very little right now, and couldn’t afford to lose much, especially after my bucket.
This won’t be a material transaction…
So, will I have to sell you my soul or something?
To a degree…
I was liking her less and less.
I can lead you to good fortune, little Mira. All I ask for is your trust…
My trust? Is that it?
Do not take this lightly. I ask you to put all your trust in me. I guarantee you, there are hardships ahead. Things so dark and painful that Hades himself will cringe at its cruelty. I will guide you on the safe path, but you must trust me…
Her voice resounded with forced anger, but also some desperation. I felt something from her, some kind of energy. The only emotion I received in my whole life was hatred, disgust and anger. I received it so often that my mind just blocked it out. This feeling was foreign, but it made me warm inside. It felt cold, but warmed me up a bit.
That’s it! Pity!
She was pitying me, but why?
I have seen the future, little Mira. It’s a dark road ahead for you and I. If both of us are to survive this, a pact must be made…
She’s got my attention now. I had little to lose, and the prospect of good fortune was overhwhelmingly tempting.
What kind of pact?
Your trust, for my guidance. Simple…
Then I accept
Don’t be hasty. This deal is made in mind and spirit. No mortal force can break this pact. Your trust must be absolute, without question. Any wavering and both our souls will suffer. In a way, I’m trusting you too…
This deal sounded good, really good. How could I not? Good fortune for placing trust in a pony. A race so honest and kind that they made perfect prey for changelings.
I accept to your terms
The mare smiled
It is done. From henceforth, I live, in you…
Wait what?
All of a sudden, the water rose from the well like a supernatural tsunami. It gushed over me, the torrent sending my tumbling end over end inside it. I felt like I was drowning, I was so disoriented and blind. The ball of water rose above the well, me trapped within it. With a mighty splash, I was dropped inside the well. So dizzy was I that I couldn’t figure out which way was up, let alone swim towards it. It was all over in minutes. My vision clouded from the outside, slowly eating away at what little light I could see. The moon shined above like death’s own face beckoning me to the next world.
Had my bleary eyes betrayed me, or was I home again?
The sun filtered through the tarp, casting odd shifting shadows of orange and yellow. The tattered cloak where I lay felt the same, as did that comfortable feeling of home. My things were in a ragged heap in the corner as usual, my special black knife always on top. I sat up to contemplate last night’s events. That pony, or whatever she was, offered me a deal. I accepted, but the last thing I remember was drowning in the well. It all seemed so dreamlike, so immaterial, like looking through a window. This brings me to my next question…
How did I get here?
Not that I’m not grateful I didn’t drown to death, but still, it’s a mystery.
Dragging myself out of bed, I involuntarily hissed at the sight of my hoof. Having half an arrow shaft poking out of your body would do that to a changeling. I shifted it around about. Odd, I didn’t feel anything, almost like the wound didn’t exist. Taking it to the next step, I rolled over and placed my injured hoof on the floor.
It was a little unstable, but with some work I managed to stand again. My leg felt good as new, just like it was before the disaster at the well. I walked in little circles just to be sure, but I couldn’t argue with results.
Maybe it wasn’t a dream after all.
A painful growling in my stomach reminded me of dinner, or the lack of it. It was still the early hours of the morning, so I could probably invest some more time in foraging by the river. With a plan in my mind, I set out to find breakfast.
(\^/)
Today was my lucky day, a whole pony carcass, sitting just beneath the surface. She used to be female, pink fur and a long blue mane and tail. Her amber eyes and bird cage cutie mark were still clear as day, so she was fresh. As to how she died, the half dozenpainfully familiar black arrows jutting from her side answered my question. Yet, she was fished out of the gunk by yours truly, so it probably tasted just as bad as everything else, but at least there was more of it. She was healthy from what I could tell, she could easily last me a couple of days, but first I had to get her home.
For young looking pony, she was very heavy. The sun shifted to high noon by the time I got her out of the river and began the painful climb back home. The sight must've been comical, a scrawny little nymph dragging a fresh, near adult pony up the street. There was a certain respectyou got on the street when fishing for food. What you found is yours and yours is what you have, simple. At least that's what the decent folk around here do. It must've been at least half an hour before I made it to the crest of the hill, just seconds from my hideaway home. Every muscle in my body cried out from exertion but every notion in my mind told me it would be worth it.
As I kept dragging her along, the more my hunger for fresh meat overrided my exhaustion.
"Hey you!" came a gruff, juvenile voice
I turned to the source of the source of the angry shout. An angry trio of young drones stood at the opposite side of the hill, angrily stomping their way towards me.
"That's our food!" another indignantly added
I paid them no heed and went back to dragging lunch home, almost within hooves reach now.
"Get back here you scrawny grub!" came the third voice
Not knowing speech came with a few blessings, one of them being not giving my left hoof about what other changeling's said without trying. It helps with concentration.
"THAT'S IT!"
Words, I could care less about. The angry hissing and galloping hooves of three aggrevated changelings however, that definitely got my attention. I turned to the noise to see the three drones make quick work of the hillside, eating up distance as they charged their way towards me.
In a desperate effort, I half-threw my meal into my home, barely fitting through the nymph-sized hole. My moment's relief was suddenly shattered by a hard hoof to the face.
I landed maybe 2 metres from where I started, it was some blow. My left eye was messed up, there was a giant crack against my vision and a thick liquid dripped down my face. It tasted oddly of blood.
"Okay you little rat," the closest changeling snarled "Give us our food and we won't kill you. Sound fair?"
I looked up and down the street for help. No luck there, everyone seemed to pay the scene no mind. I was on my own, against three advancing angry drones with a meal on their minds. I assessed my options. Fighting was out of the question, but running might not be. I just had to wait my turn.
"C'mon let's face it," one suggested mischievously "We're not getting that food back, but I think I could settle for a nymph right now,"
"I'm inclined to agree," another nodded "Let's get him!"
They all leapt high into the air, hooves poised for a pounce, ready to descend on the little nymph below. Now was my chance. With adrenaline fueled speed, I dashed underneath their leaping forms and cleared the street, running all the way home.
I slid to a stop, sheltered by the cool embrace of shadow. Staying desperately still despite the furious pawing and hissing on the other side of the wall, I heard muffled cursing before fading hoof steps signalled their departure. I finally released my held breath. What a day, this venture certainly left me famished. Taking my prized knife, I settled down for lunch.
(\^/)
When I said I'd have leftovers, never have I been so happy to be right. I haven't even gone through half and I was feeling full to bursting.
The legs were the best part, nice and muscular. The organs were a bit tough and strange tasting, but not in a bad way. I remember how all the rich changeling displayed skulls in their homes, so I had hers picked clean. It now sits in the corner as a reminder of this lucky find. I felt rather drowsy for a time after I finished, just one of the signs of a good meal eaten. I covered my leftovers with a spare drape and tucked in for the afternoon. I slept well for the first time in forever.
(\^/)
"Help me!"
I awoke with a start. Groaning my way out of bed, I rubbed my bleary eyes to soak in the orange light of the setting sun.
"Please help!"
I muttered to myself. What kind of changeling would be outside at this hour? The sun was not kind to my species after all.
"Anyone? Please!"
Grumbling all the while, I stumbled my way out the hole and observed the scene before me. The thuggish three from before were roughly hustling a smaller, fourth figure into a nearby alleyway. There didn't seem to be anyone else out in the street right now, so the source of the sound must've come from the small changeling. It sounded young, and female, but I couldn't tell anything else. I shook my head, a young, scrawny nymph like me surely wouldn't stand a chance against three juvenile drones. Besides, things like this were pretty commonplace in the slums of the hive. There would be no point in...
"Help her,"
Huh? What? Who said that?
"Help her,"
Looks like it wasn't a dream after all. The soothing voice of the starry mare washed over me like ripples through a still pond. Her will felt like a compulsion, an instinct, but there was no way I could save her and live to tell.
"Trust in me,"
Without any thought, I found myself taking small steps toward the alleyway. What the hell was I doing? I would die fighting those drones. Yet her command felt so right, so good, so... inviting. How could I resist it? Ugh, this could be the death of me, but I did pledge my trust. with small reluctant steps, I headed inside the alleyway.
(\^/)
It was dark, almost eerily so. The warm light of the sunset did not reach my path. My only guides were my eyes, and that compulsive urge to help induced by my mind's second tenant.
I had been walking for several minutes now, I don't know if I could make it back on my own. I sincerely hoped that my trust in this astral guardian would pay off, and soon.
Just as I thought it, I heard muffled murmurings from a short distance ahead of me. Crouching low to the ground, I listened.
"Okay, this looks like the spot," one of the drones said "Hey Viper, call the boss, would ya'?"
The one called Viper gave him a frustrated hiss "Call him yourself Wave, this little nymph's not making it easy for me," I risked a peek around, and true to Viper's word, there she was. Clutched close to the juveniles chest was a luminous green cocoon. It wasn't very well made, as Viper struggled just as much as the captive did to keep her from tearing free.
"Go ask Branch," Viper snorted "He's got some empty hooves,"
"Screw the nymph, I say we eat her," Branch growled hungrily "It's been a while since I had a good meal,"
"No!" Wave snarled, sending a fierce blow across his face "We need her alive if we're going to get paid. Understand?"
"We can't eat silver you dolt!" Branch pointed, nursing his cheek "And we sure as hell can't go to the market. We're street rats remember? Criminals!"
"We'll find a way. If anyone in this slum listens to anything, it's silver,"
Naturally, I couldn't make out a single word from them, but it didn't sound good for the captured nymph. Any changelings caught this young were either eaten, or conscripted to the army.
“Help her,”
I felt that urge again, the urge to help but I repressed it. Not yet. I trust my guide, but I also trust my instincts. All I need is an opportunity, an opening of some kind.
"What good is silver to a bunch of slum-dwellers like us?" Branch questioned "We need food. We need water. What good is a bag of metal?"
"No, you gotta think bigger Branch!" Wave exclaimed "With the amount of silver we're getting, we don't need to worry about food. We can live like one of the nobles for years!"
"Listen to him Branch," Viper added "The boss has gotta really want this nymph if he's paying us our combined weight in silver,"
Branch took a pained sigh "Fine, but I get first picks,"
"Sure you do," Wave grinned "How about you call him then?"
"Yeah yeah, sure give me a minute,"
This was my chance. It was rare for street rats to perform magic, but without love, if it were possible, it would be volatile and exhausting. A misused spell spelt the death of many a novice caster. A green glow surrounded Branch's horn as he closed his eyes to channel. Now was the time. Quick as a flash, I darted from the cover and rammed myself headfirst into the caster's side.
Branch’s eyes widened in surprise before he collapsed on shaking hooves. Blood welled from a small gash in his side as he struggled under the weight of his own spell.
“Why you little…”
He didn’t get to finish.
His channelled spell broke free from his horn and raced around the alleyway like a stream of angry snakes. Neon green lightning spat in all directions as the flesh literally melted from the poor drones forehead. Reeling back in surprise, the remaining to changelings backpedalled in fear, forgetting all about their charge.
This wasn’t planned at all. His hatred for me must’ve corrupted the spells original purpose, sending it spiralling out of control. Branch let loose a howling, excruciating shriek before disappearing in a flash of blinding green light. All that was left of him was a pile of ash, and his haunting screams echoing through the still afternoon air. What followed was seconds of pained silence, before a quiet whimpering broke the silence.
“Y-y-you killed Branch,” Wave stuttered feebly
I arched my eyebrows. I didn’t do a thing. It was his fault for practicing volatile magic. All I did was head butt him.
“You killed branch,”
I rolled my eyes. What was he getting at? Changelings died every day and Branch was no different, but his passing was certainly the noisiest I’ve ever heard.
“YOU KILLED BRANCH!” he shrieked
The furious drone scrambled to his hooves and made a beeline straight for me. Reacting on total reflex, I stumbled sideways, avoiding his rushing hooves.
“YOU’LL PAY FOR THAT!”
Wave’s horn shimmered green, signalling the all-to-familiar spell of laser beam. I tensed, ready to react. It was a lethal spell, but a predictable and exhausting one. A ray of green light shot from his horn, straight and true, it sailed past my left cheek as I swayed out of its path. I could still feel its warmth as I took the offensive.
I leapt at the spell-dazed changeling, striking him under the chin with my horn before raining hoof blows on his chest. He was nearly an adult changeling so his tough natural armour withstood my attacks, but it noticeably dazed him. The big changeling grunted in frustration and tried to stomp me into the dirt, but I was too quick.
Darting this way and that, his hooves impacted nothing but dirt every time. Letting out an angry howl he made one final attack, but I was ready. I bounded back from his clumsy double punch as I swung around and bucked him square in the chest. He fell to his knees, now just under the same height as I was. I drew my right hoof back, and lashed it across his dizzy face. The big drone crumpled sideways like a loose sack of rocks.
Heaving a sigh of exhaustion I knelt alongside Wave’s crumpled form. That is until another hoof sent me sprawling across the dirt. I spat blood, and shook my head to clear it, feeling something dislodge from my face as I did. The final drone, Viper, walk patiently towards me, a menacing yet smug smile on his fanged face.
Yet in an instant, it went slack, as his suddenly lifeless body fell to the dirt, a burning hole where his left eye should be. I paid him no heed, as long as he was dead, I was safe. Maybe it was just some feedback from Branch’s spell. I picked up something hard and sharp off the floor.
“Ohmigosh are you okay?” the nymph asked hurriedly
I turned my better eye to the female. She was like me, but smaller and with a shock of pink hair and bright magenta eyes. She was pretty, I’d give her that.
“Lemme see!” she pleaded, reaching for my hoof
I withdrew it quickly. There was something odd about this nymph, something dangerous. Besides, I risked much and loosed more than I bargained for in her stead. There was nothing for it but to go home.
"Please?" she pleaded "I can help. I won't hurt you, promise!"
I relaxed myself, but kept some tension. I didn’t know this nymph, and was less than happy about giving her my hoof, let alone risking my life for her. Her hoof gently traced my cheek, cleaning away my blood and sweat. She noticeably winced as she looked at me. I was literally beaten half to death today.
“You’re eyes!” she gasped
I rolled what was left of them. My vision was obscured by an ugly crack since midday today. Now, I lost my depth perception. That thin, green chitin I had over my eye I now held in my hooves. Even the air was enough to stinging prongs of pain through my head.
“C’mon,” she said, pulling my arm “I know a guy, he can heal you,”
I roughly shoved her off. Contrary to anyone’s belief, this isn’t the worst injury I’ve endured. I took four steps down the alleyway before crumpling like a wind beaten shack.
You have done so well, little Mira. You have suffered so much already, but know this. Above the most violent storm, is the clearest of skies. All you need is the courage to ascend. Have no fear, for I will be with you, until you rise above the earth, and fly among the stars.
But for now, wake up, and see my first gift to you…
I uttered a long groan as I awoke. I felt cold, and uncomfortable. I felt like I’d been lying here for days. Opening my bleary eyes, I could make out the blurred shape of a single candle, suspended from a sandstone roof. I heard a sound like a soft, distant dripping like the echo from a well all around me. The place smelt of citrus fruit and wet stones. Looking around, I could see I was in a small room, covered in an assortment of coloured bottles and tools, resting on four walls of shelves. There were only two doors, one at my feet, and another behind my head, both were sand dried an rickety as could be.
“Ah you’re awake,” came an old, gravelly tone
I shifted my neck left to see and elderly changeling approach, hidden behind a high backed chair. His carapace was covered in blemishes and his eyes were a milky grey colour, as was his sparse strands of mane and tail.
“Name’s Dust,” he said pleasantly “And what might be yours,”
I gave him a snort in reply
“Can’t talk?” he didn’t sound surprised “Shame, I’d love to talk to a new face some time soon, ah well. Here, let me undo the straps. Sorry I had to bind ya and all, but no matter how much sedative I gave you, ya kept thrashing and screaming like a fish outta water,”
Only then did I look down at myself. I was tied down on a sandstone slab belly up. What disturbed me so were the lack of markings on myself, despite the severe beating I took earlier. Every inch of my shell was clean and polished to a sheen, like I was made of a single black gemstone.
“Like it?” Dust continued, undoing the various straps on my legs “It took a while, but I managed to get you back in fighting shape. Rose came by a couple days ago with you slung over her shoulder. At first I didn’t know what to think. She explained how you put up a fight in her stead. T’was mighty brave of ya, taking down three adolescent thugs. Anyways, I had ya sedated on this here table, but as I said, ya wouldn’t stay still, hence the straps,”
He scratched his chin “Ya took quite a beating. I’ve had my fair share of grisly sights but you really looked banged up. Bones broken, exoskeleton chipped, lenses shattered, various cuts, plenty of internal bleeding and this,” He showed me a jagged, broken piece of stone “I believe is an arrow head, embedded in your hind leg,”
I grimaced at the sight of it. That arrow could’ve cost me much more than a couple cuts and bruises.
“T’was a good thing it wasn’t infected. At the rate I’ve seen your body heal it over I’d say it’s been inside you for a couple days. Yer lucky that Rose brought you here to me, you’d be knee deep in trouble by now if she didn’t,”
I heard another set of hoof steps approach. I turned right to see the young nymph I saved from before trot up to me, a jubilant smile on her face.
“Hiya!” she smiled
“Speak of the devil. Would’ja be a dear and undo his arms for me? There’s a good girl. Now anyways, according to Rose, you saved her from a trio of thugs, am I right?”
I threw him a questioning look, but Rose seemed to answer for me.
“He sure did!”
“Then I have you to thank,” Dust nodded “She’s all I have left, and I’d hate to lose another. After her parents were lost in the war...” he trailed off, lost in past memories no doubt, but recovered soon enough “Anyway, you have my gratitude. You seem like the decent type, so stay as long as you want, she means more to me than any amount of silver,”
By that time, my binds were undone, I managed to hop off the table and face them properly. Despite being a half-head shorter than me, Rose seemed about the same age, but she carried a confidence and vigour I have never seen in a changeling before. Dust towered over both of us, but was no soldier. He looked tired, but maintained a weary yet sincere smile on his face.
“You can stand? Good, we have much to discuss,”
I shot him an annoyed look. I could barely understand half of what he said, let alone answer him.
“Ah that’s right,” he said looking sheepish “I guess it can wait, t’ill we get ‘round to teaching ya,”
BOOM
A sound like cracking rock split through the air, filling the room with the roar of air. On instinct, I leapt beneath an empty shelf, scanning left to right for the threat.
Dust let out a mild chuckle “There’s nothing to worry about lad. Rose, show our guest outside. You’d want to see this for yourself,”
The nymph couldn’t get any giddier as she hopped to the nearest door.
“C’mon! You might miss it!” she cheered, beckoning me urgently
I grumbled in reply and strode after her. The door opened up to a plain, sandy balcony, bordered by rough, wind-weathered posts as a railing and a dry, weathered shelter across the roof and over the door. Above, the sky was grey and heavy under a blanket of clouds. There was a smell in the air, unlike anything I’ve ever smelt before. It was clean and clear, it was fresh and soothing, easing the aches in my throat.
Then, the first drops fell.
A low rumble accompanied the first few. The sky seemed to cry gentle tears as water rained down from on high. Somewhere behind me, Rose was laughing. A sweet, innocent sound that sent my heart a flutter. Below, changelings of all shapes, sizes, colours and ages streamed out onto the streets, jostling with pots and jugs, eager for the impending downpour.
Dust approached unnoticed. Letting out a deep sigh of relief, he said “Whaddaya think?”
Rose was the first to answer
“I’ve never seen anything like it!”
“I doubt you’d ever,” he laughed “It hasn’t happened here since I was your age,”
He strode over, putting a gentle hoof over Rose’s head while she enthusiastically returned the embrace.
“What about you lad?” he said to me “What do you think?”
I raised an eye brow at him.
“Heh, sorry,” he smiled “Old habits and all that,”
Soon the rain progressed from a gentle shower to a pounding flood. Changelings quickly rushed back into their homes as the road was blanketed in ankle deep water. We headed inside too, before the combined wind and rain threatened to sicken us. Rose hopped in first, shaking herself dry before bouncing into another room. Dust put a coarse towel over himself to remove the excess water before wringing it into a nearby basin.
I could see the logic, even with the recent flood there was no use in forgetting old habits. Taking a coarse towel for myself, I followed his example.
“Well aren’t you a smart lad?” Dust grinned “C’mon, let’s get you a place to rest,”
I followed him through the cosy little sandstone house until we arrived at the bedrooms. Three mats were laid down around a square room, devoid of any furnishing, other than a small green candle and a coffee table piled high with rags. Rose was curled contently on her own mat. Her mass of pink hair obscuring most of her from our vision.
“Sleeping like a baby,” Dust muttered. He trotted to a second mat, the farthest from the wall but closest to the open window, lending an unobscured view of the surrounding landscape.
“This one’s yours,” he said, indicating the rough, woven mat, then settled down on his own. “You might’ve been out for the whole time, but I sure am beat,”
I gave him a nod in acknowledgment and lay down myself. The mat wasn’t nearly as soft as my bed back home, but it was nice. The present company helped too. It was comforting to know that I’m with others I could trust, there was a certain warmth to it. Dust wasn’t a bad changeling. Even if he wished me harm, I doubt he would’ve spent so much time and energy into healing me. Rose on the other hoof, she was an odd one. There was a certain energy about her, something raw and powerful, yet natural not unlike the girl herself.
“Sleep tight son, we’ve got a big day tomorrow,”
With heavy eyelids I complied and drifted off to sleep.
(\^/)
I must’ve been dreaming now, but it all felt so real. I was in a cave, illuminated by azure crystals and permeated by the sound of flowing water. Before me was the mare from before, the one from the well. She was tall, almost twice Dust’s height but had an aura of serenity and grace. Her fur was a pale blue and her eyes paler still. Her long mane was a soft azure and drifted about the place as if underwater.
As soon as I saw her she spread her wings and bowed deeply, her horn tapping the floor.
“I knew you would come,” she smiled “You always do,”
As always, I could understand her clearly as she understood me. Before I could reply though, a shadow rushed over me, and went right through as if I didn’t exist. I balked in surprise at the sudden cold and stumbled sideways. When I recovered I paced around the new figure.
He was tall, taller even than the blue mare behind me. He was thin too, but frail like a walking corpse. A cloak made of black water covered his body, but piercing blue eyes and a long jagged horn penetrated the gloom beneath his cloak.
“You know why I am here,” he said in a voice like crumbling rock
The mare didn’t flinch in his intimidating presence, but responded evenly.
“You know what I will say,”
They stood at an impasse, like a silent exchange was being made. Not before long, the stallion huffed in amusement.
“Your time grows short. Not long until you are due,”
The azure mare nodded numbly “He is the one, I am sure of it,”
“You meddle with unseen forces,” he allowed a humourless chuckle “If he becomes like the others before…”
“He will succeed,” she assured him, meeting his steady gaze “I am sure of it,”
“I hope so, for you sake…”
As quickly as It appeared, everything faded away, like a reflection in a rippling pond.
(\^/)
“Hey? You awake?”
I looked around, and saw Rose standing over me, shaking me awake. The moon cast a steady blue light over the room. Dust still lay asleep, indicated by the low grating of his snores.
“Oh good,” Rose whispered “C’mon, let’s get moving,”
She half-ran to the door and beckoned me urgently. I silently made my way to join her in the hallway, but she instantly darted off further, beckoning me again. I rolled my eyes impatiently and strode towards her, keeping a steady pace while keeping up with the energetic nymph. Soon enough, we were back in the room where I awoke the first time. Dim blue light cast an eerie glow across the various bottles and flasks about the place.
Rose had a large stick in her mouth and appeared to be trying to pry stones from the floor. With a final grunt of frustration, she cast the stick away and illuminated her horn with a soft pink glow. An even square of sandstone lifted itself off the ground and deposited itself against the back wall without so much as a sound. Hoof to her lips, she descended into the new hole in the floor. Reluctantly, I followed suit.
I climbed a small ladder of dried wood down to another, hidden room. Rose stood below, carefully manoeuvring the stone back into its position. As it took up its place, Rose brightened the glow of her horn until the whole room was lit in magenta light. I didn’t see the reason why it had to be hidden. There was nothing down here but chairs, tables, books, chalk and blackboards. I flipped through a book experimentally. It was thin and supple, with brightly coloured images on every page. The second book I chose was filled with that black scrawl they called writing.
I turned to see Rose writing twisted shapes on a large blackboard, leaning against the back wall. She lit a candle for light, held a piece of chalk with her magic and muttered incoherently to herself as she did. Seeming engrossed in her task, I took the chance to mull over my limited knowledge.
“Oookay!” she said finally “Let’s get down to business!”
She withdrew a small wooden rod from her hair and poked me harmlessly with it.
“What do you know?”
I regarded her quizzically. Just what was she up to? The nymph might as well ask the question to herself.
“Hold on,” she mumbled “How about this? Can you tell me what this is?”
In her hooves were a couple familiar glinting circles
“S-s-s-ilv-e-e-r-r,” I uttered carefully
“Great job!” she beamed “So you’re not totally mute after all,”
I never was. I was smart enough to know what other changelings talked about when they were holding it, and after a while I could figure out the objects name. I never really put much effort into trying to say it. After all, a good hiss and growl was all I needed on the streets.
Rose went back to the blackboard and pointed her stick and one of the shapes.
“Can you tell me what this is?”
I scratched my head. I knew it was a letter, I’ve seen enough writing to know that, but it was really never enough. I shrugged helplessly.
“Hm, speech needs some work,” Rose muttered “Reading’s no good… How about writing?”
She thrust a piece of chalk into my hooves and looked at me expectantly. I looked at her funny, but she seemed to ignore it. Conceding the point, I went ahead and copied the letter she showed me on the floor, with apparently pleasing results.
“Not bad. Hoof coordination is pretty good for someone on the streets. How about magic?”
Rose levelled her head at a nearby chair and lit her horn. The same pink light weaved around the chair and it slowly floated off the ground. After a brief pause, she let go of the chair, letting it clatter on the floor.
“Now your turn!”
I looked doubtfully at her. Never once in my life had I successfully done magic and believe me, I’ve tried a lot. With a sigh of resignation, I turned to a nearby chair and poured all my willpower into it. As expected, the chair stayed stubbornly glued to the ground.
“I wasn’t expecting too much,” Rose conceded “But, everyone’s got to start somewhere, am I right?”
I shrugged, there was a lot I don’t know, even I knew that.
