It wasn’t long before Alex Benton’s life was going to change. Now he’s somewhere far away, and as a four legged, dethroned queen, might be able to make a difference.
[This is the initial collab version with Zine. It's currently being rewritten! Stay tuned for updates.]
It wasn’t long before Alex Benton’s life was going to change. He just didn't expect that to be in the form of a four legged, dethroned queen. However, maybe this world was just what he needed. Something far away from the pain of his old life. Something that allowed him to be different. To be helpful.
Crystal Boundaries of a Skull They hide, they keep, they hold the walls And once our troubles can't be stalled The walls will fall The walls will fall….
(Cover is an edited shot from the finale of Season 6 of FiM: Edited by meee)
The blackness subsided, and my vision began to clear. My brain, however, didn’t clear up as quickly. I saw two hole-ridden hooves, and a rocky cliffside with colored horses on the crest. A cliffside? Horses?
“The walls will fall! Chrysalis, we have to leave!”
I turned to see an insectual creature that I couldn’t begin to describe. And it spoke to me, treating me almost as head of command. Who was Chrysalis? Is that me?
Wordlessly getting up, I glanced down to find two more hooves at my disposal. Moth-like wings flared out at my sides. I turned, and a thin, green mane flowed around the back of my head and across part of my face. A similarly-colored tail caught my eye, and—
“Chrysalis!”
Right, those things.
“Let’s go!” I called, in an unfamiliar tongue. I whipped back to see two of these creatures, who appeared to look similar to me. Is that what I sound like now?
Instinct took over as we flew out of the bottom of the cave. My wings lifted up and flapped on their own. I was still in shock. Where was I? What was I?
“This way!” the same creature called. It took the lead, diving down and to the right. I followed, but took a glance back at the receding cliffside. I could make out a couple colorful shapes up there — actually, a lot of them. They were watching us leave, making no effort to stop us but at the same time—
“My Queen!”
I slammed into the other insect thing, which crashed both of us into the ground. We rolled for a few seconds before coming to rest near an alcove. Wait, did it just say Queen?
The two other creatures marched by, sneering.
“So much for coordination,” the one on the left muttered.
I got up shakily, glaring at the one I ran into. I felt bad for it, but might as well keep up the commander aura while I can. I turned my head and headed into the alcove, slumping against one of the stone walls. The others seemed preoccupied with something, maybe planning another escape flight. I didn’t even know what we were running from. I didn't even know what we were!
My breathing escalated as I tried to take inventory. We were in a desert, or a quarry of some sort — somewhere rocky and dry. They called me queen. Was I a woman now? Well, not human at least.
I looked down at my front appendages, which were shaking slightly and somewhat resembled hooves. They were covered in holes — gaping holes that pierced through my black exterior. Was I some sort of horse?
“My Queen? What should we do now?”
I jerked up, focusing on the creature in front of me. It had teal eyes, with sharp, spiky ears and an elongated horn that jutted out from the top of its skull. Two knife-sharp fangs dropped from its muzzle, following into an angular body that had thin, blue wings. It was smaller than me.
“I…” I took gasping breaths. What now? “I-I’m not sure.”
I raised my head up, assuming a regal posture. “R-recount the past hour.” Ugh, with that shaky voice? They’ll definitely believe you now….
“Well, “ Its eyes narrowed for a moment, and its head tilted slightly in confusion. “We were just banished from our own kingdom.”
Kingdom?
“By Starlight and her friends, no less!” A sniveling voice cut in. The second thing approached us. It had a scar on the right side of its face, which pushed its right eye slightly closed.
It spit on the ground. “Those ponies didn’t even do anything except drag that traitor in. He was the one who dragged our colony into a pastel colored nightmare!”
“Look at us.” The third muttered from the entrance. “Wallowing around, running from the fight.”
Calm. Calm, stay calm. Breathe. In, out. In out.
The scar-faced creature whipped around. “Would you like to go fight four princesses, the Elements of Harmony, and our entire colony? I don’t think so.”
Princesses? Four of them? And what are Elements of Harmony?
“Element… elements, o-of harmony?”
The first creature looked at me quizzically. “Are you ok, my Queen?”
I stared incredulously at it. None of them can know. “I-I am just a bit exhausted. Worried for the future of…” Of what? Th-the, uh, “the colony. Our kingdom. Our home!” That should be good enough.
“You can see our home. It’s over there — “ the outside creature waved a hoof near the direction of the cliffside we came from. “Or at least, was over there.”
One home to the next, torn from every place I go to. Even if I’m not in my own body.
My heartbeat increased. What are we going to do now? Travel as bandits, from one outpost to the next? Pillage and steal like pirates? We need our home back. We need what was ours!
I stood up on wobbly legs. “What are four princesses to a queen?”
The two things in front of me glanced up fearfully. “I-I don’t think that’s such a—”
I thrust my head down, baring my fangs. “Do you dare question me?”
It bowed its head. “N-no my queen.”
I nodded. “Good.” My legs brought me to the front of the alcove, and I crouched down, ready to spring into action.
I turned back and stared at the three creatures. “Well, what are you waiting for?”
With that, my wings folded out and I pushed off from the ground. The wind caught under each wing and propelled me upwards and forwards, fishing me out of the rocky area we hid in towards the cliffside where we came from. Where Ihad come from.
After a moment, I faltered. I wasn’t used to flying, and focusing on it only made it worse. Damn wings, just work! They caught on, still keeping me aloft, but the closer I got to the looming cliffside, the lighter my head began to feel. What would I say? What would I do? Why wouldn’t they just blast me out of the sky?
I froze up. My muscles stiffened, sinking me down like a rock until my wings caught an updraft. I gasped in pain — my thin wings didn’t like that much strain. Neither did the rest of me, for that matter. I was pushed to the breaking point. Those others might be killed if I didn’t — no, no. I’d be killed.
They’re going to kill me. They’re going to kill me.
I couldn’t breathe. My eyes were blurring, my head was spinning. My hooves sagged downward as my wings started to give up. One moment after another, the landscape was wavering more and more, until I didn’t know which way was up. Up, to where they were. Up, to where they all were. Waiting. For me, for anything — for an attack, for a siege, for some sense of a responsible action, for pain, for glory, for —
I pulled up sharply, thinking I was going to hit the ground.
The last thing I could remember was a sharp snapping sound. And pain.
I hated it when my fingers dragged against some odd material, it always made me shiver. You know, like when your fingernails graze across a sort of cardboard/wood material, and it just grates on your skin and nails. One of my worst pet peeves. My hands smacked against the wooden drawer next to me as I slowly slid off the bed.
In plain, black boxers, I flopped to the floor and opened the drawer, pulling out some socks. I pulled them on, and reached into a small drawer. Of course, I was kind of organized…oh, who the fuck am I lying to? I’m not organized. I just had one place for my outfits. I pulled out a black cloth jacket, a plain white t-shirt, and black sweatpants. Simple stuff, really.
With a sigh, I slipped on each piece of clothing, and stretched,the sun from the outside hurting my eyes. Ow. Ow. Why. My eyes are sensitive.. Why do I always have to wake up to sun in my eyes? These are the questions I ask myself regularly. Why does this painful thing happen; where did I go wrong in life.
My family was downstairs, relaxing, talking, and eating a nice breakfast; eggs, toast, and bacon. I heard the soft chatter and smelled the cooking meat. A hearty breakfast, if you ask me. I was… the one who wasn’t always happy. The one who wasn’t always nice. I get that it seems like “oh, woe is me, I’m sad and edgy”, but it’s just a depressing thing to think about that I try and avoid; but it always ends up in my thought process, somewhere. I always make mistakes.
I made my way downstairs, wincing as the pain of a headache caught up to me, and, this one in particular hurt like hell.. This was one of the worst headaches I’ve experienced, it was hurting like hell. Well, I suppose it is time to get on with my day, as always. I walked down the spiral staircase, and smiled, having only happy thoughts about my family. It..was nice. It was nice to be with them.
There’s one thing I keep doing, though, to my loving family. I kept on… snapping at them. I thought back to a week or so ago.
My mom, Sarah, was just giving me some friendly advice, while I was sitting at the table, eating. “What? What do you want?” There was a small amount of hurt in her eyes when I snapped at her, and I softened, guilt fueling my self-hatred just that little bit more. Oh… why did I have to be so angry? My fist clenched, and slammed against the table as my eyes stung from the pain. I hit the table hard.
Another time was when my sister was speaking to me calmly, asking if they could touch something, such as my Doctor Who memorabilia, one of the cheap, but still nice ones, and I immediately uttered No. Let go! in a flat, cold-like rage tone. I hated how on edge I was. I seemed to be paranoid about everything. I understand why.
I think years of being bullied and toyed with in school made me who I am today. I hate that. I despise the idea that I became a bully. I don’t want to be one, but it happened. I want to stop it. One way or another, I will stop becoming a person of hatred. I want to be a person of kindness. Someone kind. Someone happy, someone you can rely on. I want to be helpful.
That’s all I really want.
After having a bit of existential thought in the kitchen, I backed away from the counter, hands being placed in my pockets. My family had worried but sad stares, but my mother seemed to at least somewhat understand my thought process was, I could by her eyes. They had a sort of glimmer to them, of wanting to help. My mother was always nice like that. I grabbed my plate of food, and sat myself down at the table, and my dad asked one question...
“So...how’s life?” I put my fork down, along with the piece of toast I held. Unknowingly, I had put force into the motion of putting down the fork; it clattered against the auburn wood table. Putting my index finger to my chin, I looked down, and thought. Well, I have a lot of self-hatred, I’m mean to my family, and I can’t seem to become a better person.
“As good as it can be.”
I said that in such a morose tone; how ironic. My headache grew stronger in intensity, and I put my palm to my forehead, trying to stifle my pain.
“Dear, are you okay?”
My mother said those words to me, and with a smile, but with pain in my voice, I spoke to her. “I..yeah..F-fine.” I went back to eating my breakfast, thinking about life, and what I was going to do next. I practically inhaled it with how quickly I was eating the meal. The pain grew unbearably intense, and I staggered up from the table, quickly making my way up the stairs as I clutched my head. Why? Why did it hurt so bad?
I woke up, groaning at the weight of the impending day.
Today’s the presentation.
My alarm didn’t care though, it just kept buzzing, over and over. I took it out of its misery, slamming the snooze button with a wide swing of my arm. Up and over my legs went, landing with a thud on the carpet. I stood up, taking a glance at myself in the mirror on the way to the bathroom. Note to self: mirrors are for when you’re about to leave. I suppressed a shudder. Not when you’re a zombie.
A few minutes later, I emerged out of the shower, and stood in front of my closet. I couldn’t wear something too dark today, but I had to keep up some sort of a style. I had about ten shirts, mostly in darker hues. I selected a red one. Onto pants.Shorts? Hmm, too informal. Jeans? I guess?
“Alex, come for breakfast!”
Oh, right. They were waiting for me. I threw on my socks and shoes, slung on my backpack and took another glance in the mirror. Meh, at least I don’t look dead now.
Down the stairs I went, ending up at the kitchen. It was a decent size, enough to hold all four of us. Since my sister went to college last year, we’ve had a bit more room, but my parents always kept the chair there. Just in case.
“Did you sleep well?”
My mom was making breakfast for this morning: pancakes. Just the Shake N Bake stuff, nothing too fancy. I didn’t really care though. I was too worried about the presentation on Mongols today.
I took a seat, and muttered, “I guess.” I glanced up, noticing not one, but two empty seats. “Did Dad leave early?”
The spatula slapped against the pan, a bit harder than it should have. “Your father decided to have another one of his early coffee runs for the office. Without telling me, of course,” she finished in an annoyed voice.
The pancakes smelled good, I must admit.
She leaned against the counter, facing me. “And that’s the fifth time this month.”
I glanced at the calendar. “Aren’t we only five days in?”
A flat laugh. “Yep.”
Silence reigned for a few moments. My mom brought the pancakes over, setting them down on the obnoxiously yellow tablecloth. I never understood why she’d want to be blinded every time she ate.
I grunted in thanks as I loaded my plate, filling it up with three pancakes and a slug of syrup.
My mom glanced up at me as I incessantly shoveled bite after bite of pancake into my mouth.
“Do you have a presentation today?”
I stopped for a second and nodded.
“I’m sure you’ll do great,” she said with an encouraging smile. “What class is it for?”
I slammed my fork down. “History,” I mumbled, before taking a swig of milk.
She glanced away for a second. “Make sure you review your notes so you don—”
“I know.”
“Is it a group project? Do your partners know—”
“I’ll be fine!”
She sighed, setting her fork down. “I just want you to do your best.”
Silence, save for scraping forks and knives. Or rather, my fork and knife. Her’s didn’t move.
“Alex, they won’t laugh at you.”
I took a moment to swallow, then muttered, “They did it before, what stops them from doing it again?”
“Because this time it’s a history presentation. No funny accents, no acting, no long script to memorize. What’s funny about Genghis Khan? You’re basically listing facts.” She leaned forward on the table. “I know it’s hard to get up in front of people and put yourself out there. Even for something as small as a class presentation. But you’re smarter than them, and you got a perfect score on that Othello presentation! Nobody else could even remember their lines!” She giggled.
“But honestly,” her face turned serious, “I know you’ll do great, because you have something that none of them have. Passion.”
I groaned internally. Passion. Who cares about passion when everyone’s laughing their ass off and even the teacher can’t hold a straight face.
I kept eating, and after a few moments of silence my mom picked up her knife and fork and finished off her single pancake.
I pushed my chair indignantly away. I can’t stand the silence. “I’m going. Bye.” My backpack was slung over my back, but as I headed out the door, she said —
“Love you!” My mom called as I left.
Why was I being so mean to her? My feet stopped in their tracks. She always cared for me. Loved me. Supported me. My eyes stung, and not just from the bright sunlight cutting through the door frame.
I dragged my feet back to the table, and I wrapped my arms around her in a hug. I muttered two shaky words into her ear: "I'm sorry."
She squeezed back. “It’s ok.”
And with that, I left.
~~~
“Alex Benton!”
My head snapped up. I was daydreaming about what had happened with my mother, and about the notes I had memorized the night before. I was so, so worried, both about my relationship with my mom, and about my presentation.
My sources weren’t the best, judging on how poor the websites looked, and what the copyright date was; 2004? Two-thousand fucking FOUR? That was thirteen years ago! Knowing how much of a hardass Mr. Richard can be, I have a nagging fear that he’ll lower my grade.
I had looked and looked, and maybe I was just being a dumbass, but as far as I could see, those were the only websites I could find. Every website I had found other than the ones I used for my sources… well, they looked like they came straight out of the 90s. I had made a 10 slide presentation, with a good layout, a good-sized font, and good explanations, as far as I could tell, so everything else was fine.
Mr Richard’s eyes narrowed at me from his desk on the other side of the classroom. “Alex? Sometime today?”
I got up and, laptop in arm, headed to the front of the classroom. I tried not to trip on any backpacks along the way — that’d be a hell of a start. By the time I plugged in my laptop and loaded up the presentation, the class had quieted down. I thought I was ready. Maybe some others thought I was too.
I looked out at the class, noting that Mr. Richard had assumed my seat in order to get a better view of the slides. And of my hopefully-not-a-failure presentation as a whole.
After a deep breath, I sprung into action.
“Hello everyone! Today, I’m going to present on the Mongols. The Mongols,” I clicked the “next” button on my presentation remote, “were a pastoral society that lived north of present-day China. Back then, “China” was ruled by the Western Liao dynasty from 1124 onwards.”
“Before we get to the almighty Genghis Khan, I’d like to cover the Mongols as a people. I gulped. “Pastoral societies were unique because, compared to agricultural societies, they were smaller, and didn’t have to produce as much food to keep everybody alive.” I glanced to the slides. Going OK so far. “Pastoral societies were also tribal. People lived with relatives, and formed clans, or tribes, which were ruled by a singular leader.”
I paused. “Now for the coolest part about Mongols — how they fought.” A horse popped up on the screen. “Mongols were skilled fighters, and fought almost entirely on horseback. They could outrun entire armies, and keep fighting at the same speed. They could fire arrows, fire fire arrows, and swing maces. Yes, you heard that right — Mongols used arrows that were loaded with gunpowder, which burned enemies that were hit by them. Hurts just a little bit more than a normal one.”
The class chuckled a little. I was doing it! This is going great!
I clicked to the next slide. “They sieged empires across Asia, including three dynasties in China — Western Xia, Jin, and Song, most of India, present-day Iran, Iraq, and Syria, and while they were at it, Poland, Hungary, Turkey, and Bulgaria.” I paused, turning to gesture at the list of countries on the screen. “They were mad-men!”
“And women too,” I added, advancing the slide again. “Unlike the agricultural societies of the time, and most of eastern Asia, Mongol women were treated with equal or even higher respect.”
On the presentation went, detailing the life of Genghis Khan, multiple invasions of China — enough to make any history buff squeal. I think it went on for thirty five minutes, which was well over the ten minute minimum. I felt good about this.
I felt like I got a—
“C.”
The applause from the class died down, just like my hopes for doing well. Did he misspeak? I looked at Mr. Richard incredulously. “I-I’m sorry?”
He glared at me from my seat. “You get a C.”
I stared back in silence. The class was equally at a loss for words. Granted, I wasn’t the best student in the class, but me, and everyone else, didn’t expect that low of a grade.
In the pause, he shuffled his papers. “Your sources here only managed to cover Mongolian history up to the end of the 20th century. Even then, you missed out on critical events.”
Mr. Richard looked back down at his notes. “What about the effect of the Chinese Civil War on Mongolia? What about the Cultural Revolution? The creation of the Inner Mongolian People’s Party? The legacy of Ulanhu?” He stopped.
“I’m sorry sir, but the rubric said—”
“But the rubric said, the history of the Mongols.”
“And I covered their history. For almost the entire class period! Any longer and—”
“And what, you’ll give me the excuse there wasn’t enough time to cover ‘seven hundred years of history’? Pathetic,” he spit out. “Absolutely pathetic. I expected more from you lot, but I was dissapointed yet again.”
With a frown, my anger began to boil, my face getting red from the heat of my emotion. “What is your PROBLEM?” I snapped. I had always been composed previously, but in the heat of the moment, I finally couldn’t take Mr. Richard’s constant perfectionist complex.
“I stayed up till 3 in the fucking morning, pouring over my work till it’s perfect, and what do I get? A FUCKING C!” The rage in my voice was clearly audible, judging on how my voice cracked and was a higher octave than it was previously. “So much work, I went PERFECTLY within the guidelines, and I get a C.”
Tears stung at my eyes, and with my voice more monotone than expressive, as the tears ran down my face… “I hate you. You’re not a teacher; you’re just an asshole.” The bell rang out, and everyone slowly got up. Mr. Richard was opening his mouth, to probably berate me, but I was way ahead of him.
I unplugged my laptop, and brought it over to my bag. I shoved it in and swung it around my shoulder, and dashed out of the room. I ran to my locker, opening the door to my items as quick as possible, stuffing them into my backpack, a plain, average backpack, with the color of black.
I slung it around my shoulder, on top of my laptop bag, and made my way to the entrance of the school. I ran out as quick as possible, the tears still stinging my eyes. I was happy I lived close to the school in this moment, and sprinted home. My legs and chest burned when I finally arrived at my doorstep. I threw open the door and ran past the kitchen, up the stairs, and into my room.
My bag hit the floor as I fell onto the bed, staining the covers with my tears. It had been years since I cried so hard. Everyone clapped. Everyone wanted me to succeed, and all I did was fail. What was I worth at this point? Not even Mr. Richard could give me hope, give me happiness, give me a reason to try, even against all odds — when the rest of the class wanted me to.
They hated me. They honestly did. I was obnoxious, annoying, edgy… any multitude of insults barraged me every day of the week. Some of them weren’t meant for me to hear, others were thrust in my face. I held myself back as best I could, but even if I slipped, it was miles worse than what they’d say to me. What they’d do to me.
A knock on my door.
“Alex? Dinner’s downstairs. Come down whenever you’re ready.”
“O-ok.” She knows. I know she knows.
There’s somethings you can’t hide from a mother. I’ve hid a lot of who I am, but the worst always gets through. Especially when I’m as vulnerable as this.
I groaned and at up, wiping the tears off of my face. Might as well eat.
Down the stairs I headed. The smell of pan-seared steak and potatoes hit my nose. It’ll be a good dinner at least.
As I rounded the corner, I noticed my mom at the fridge. And no dad.
“Hey Alex,” she said flatly.
My mom sounded annoyed. Probably at my dad’s absence, again.
“Dad not home?”
She sighed. “No, he’s not. He stopped for lunch but left just as quick.”
I sat down. “Sorry to hear that.”
The fridge door closed shut, and my mom brought a bowl of salad to the table. We both sat for a moment, letting the weight of our days settle on our backs.
My mom looked up at me, about to ask me something before her breath caught at the sight of my dried tears.
“Alex? Are you alright?”
I didn’t answer immediately, taking the chance to begin eating my steak.
“Was it the presentation?”
I set my utensils down, nodding. ‘It wasn’t the class. It was M-Mr...”
Then the tears came again. I don’t consider myself to be much of a weeper, but I just couldn’t hide it. Especially in front of my mom. The guilt from this morning only compounded the sadness, and I slumped onto the table, done with myself. Done with everything.
I sobbed.
I heard the chair next to me scoot back and felt a hand on my back. A consolidating, warm hand.
“Shh, it’s alright. Everything’s alright,” she soothed.
I stayed like that, crying into my dinner for what felt like ten minutes. Might’ve been an hour for all I care. Fucking Mr. Richard. I hate him. I hate him.
“I h-hate him”, I repeated. “I hate h-him! I... hate him.”
“Hate who?” my mom asked.
“M-Mr. Rich-chard. H-he gave me a C when they clapped….”
Pathetic. Absolutely pathetic.
“Th-they all wanted me to do well, for once!”
You get a C.
“A-and he gives me a C.”
I looked up at her, my face wet and red. “What’s wwrong with me if I-I-I c-can’t even get h-him to—”
My mom smiled at me with a determined glimmer in her eyes. “There’s nothingwrong with you, Alex. We all have faults, but he had no right to be as angry as he did. Especially since you put so much effort.”
I rested my head on the side of my arm, facing her, looking up into her eyes.
“T-Thanks Mom. I— ” my breath hitched. “I l-love you, and I always will. No matter where or when, I will never forget you. I love you, Mom.”
She leaned in and embraced me. “I love you too, Alex.”
They stayed like that for a few moments.
That… felt like closure, he thought, pulling away from the hug. Closure to a problem I have had had for quite some time.
Alex stepped away from the table and walked up the spiral staircase, a content smile on his face. He felt a slight pain similar to the headache he felt yesterday, before the pain grew far more intense. He couldn’t stand up straight. In a matter of moments, his vision darked, turned black, and he fell to the floor unconscious.
My hooves were sprawled out, and my head was spinning. I drew ragged breaths as I tried to sit up, before falling back down in exhaustion.
Note to self: don’t crash in the future.
I moved around to check if anything was broken. Back legs? Ok. Front legs? Check. Right wing? Great. Left wi—Ow ow ow. Ok, left wing out of commission.
There goes my newfound ability to fly. Probably for the best though. Don’t want any more accidents if I can help it.
I laid there for a while, catching my breath and trying to not move my left wing. Eventually, I staggered to my hooves, wincing in pain as my left wing instinctively raised, ready for flight. I shook off some of the sand and looked around. It was just as barren as before. However, thanks to the slightly hilly terrain, I was out of sight of the minions from before. I also couldn’t see the cliffside from where I was. There was only rocks, sand, and hills, as far as the eye could see.
And heat, I thought, as the burning sun locked on to my black carapace like a magnet. This will be a problem if someone doesn’t come along soon enough. But who would want to help me? I must’ve done something horrible to be running away in this state. Didn’t queens have kingdoms and castles? Servants and worshippers? Even if I was tyrannical —
A thought hit me. Was I chased out of my kingdom? By those other horse creatures? What were they? Elements of… something. No matter what they were called, they must’ve been powerful.
At the thought of power, I felt a surge of electricity through my body. Not painful, but… good. Really, really good.
Holy shit.
I slowly raised my eyes. Something was on my head. Something long. Something... pointy.
Am I a unicorn?
My eyes widened at the prospect of magic. Magic. Real, actual, tangible magic.
Am I dreaming!?
A sharp jolt of pain from my left wing shot through my torso.
Ow! Ok, not a dream. But still…
I thought back to the other creatures on the top of the cliff. I think one was orange, and it looked like a horse.
Horses? Why horses of all things? Of course, that was one question, along with the other 20 fucking questions. Do I wish to retake “my” kingdom? Pondering the question, my thoughts drifted and wandered to the creatures that apparently drove me from my kingdom.
I thought back to what I had seen; the orange one had an apple on the side of its flanks, which I personally thought of as hips, seeing as I didn’t have too much experience with horses. I kept thinking back to every detail of the small horse, the blonde mane, the orange fur, the large green eyes… oh, what the fuck, why am I on fire fire and why is it green?!
I panicked, yelping at the fact that my body had caught aflame in gre-..wait. Hang on. I’m not on fire. It’s not hurting. I looked down at my black hoof — orange. Orange hoof. With an inkling of what had happened, albeit still panicking slightly about the fact there was fucking fire on myself previously, I theorized.
The fact that my entire body seemingly changed form from the previous insectoid-like horse shape to the orange horse’s form… intrigued me. Do I have an ability that allows me to change shape? Was it related to magic? These questions flooded my mind; but I had more things to think about..
Like...like the fact I’m not on Earth. The fact I won’t see my mother again. I’m in a new body, I’m now a female, I’m something similar to a horse, I have a royal stature among those insects, and I have no semblance of friends, family, or acquaintances anymore. I slumped, thinking about how I previously looked, and, lo and behold, I returned to my previous form. So that’s how it works. My injuries stay, but my form changes. Interesting.
I decided to think aloud. “So, I’ve got nowhere to run except with those insects, my family is gone, I’m now a girl… oh, wow, that’s… that’s really weird. Hearing my own voice like that, hearing my own words coming out in a completely different voice than I thought they would.”
Am I monologuing? I think I am… well, I have nothing better to do. “Perhaps I should go back to those technicolor horses; or at least attempt to, what with these injuries.” I muttered to myself, before something crossed my mind.
Kill them. Run back to the hive. Take back what is rightfully yours. You are the Queen of the Changelings. Destroy the traitors; leave nothing of them.
I shook from my inner monologuing, questions, and plans, having heard a voice. One with a tone of malice behind it, along with anger… hatred… fear. There was some sort of buzzing sound behind the voice. I could practically feel the emotion. Shaking my head, I immediately responded, if this truly was a voice within my head. If you are really inside my head, the answer is a flat no. I’ve been mean for too long; it’s time to put my han-err… hoof, forward, and step up to the plate.
I waited. I continued to wait, for at least ten minutes, if the way time passed here, wherever here is, was the same as it did on Earth. I heard no further comment from the voice. Managing to rise shakily from the sandy ground, I began to limp forward. The adrenaline having worn off, it was so much harder to do every action. My left wing caused pain with every step, and I had to find out a way to walk in this new body, properly, with as little pain as possible.
I felt another headache form, very similar to the painful feeling I had felt the day before, before I blacked out. Wait. I felt the headache the day before that day, and then I felt the headache again today, or is it yesterday… no matter, but it can’t be a coincidence!
I had been brought here, in some shape or form, and it happened when I had a headache. An arbitrary signal of something, but it was a signal. It was related, and I didn’t know how.
The headache stopped. I continued to walk until my front hooves suddenly slipped on the sand. I grunted as my head slammed against a rock, ears ringing, and pain swelled. That was going to bruise. The one thing that cut through the ringing was laughter. Maniacal laughter, in the exact same voice as before, with the same tone and effect behind it. It echoed throughout my head, and I had only one thought:
What was this voice?
~~~
My hooves hurt.
I’ve been walking for what felt like an hour, but might’ve been much less in my injured state. Sand also wasn’t the most comfortable thing to walk on. I’d fly if I could, but one-wing flying isn’t that viable right now. Hell, two-wing flying is still a mystery to me.
Something in the distance peeked over the crest of a nearby dune. I halted in my tracks, recognizing the cliffside from miles away.
That’s where they are.
Would any of them want me back? Did I want to go back?
I inspected my hole-ridden hooves, hard shell exterior and wispy mane, before flashing in a wave of green fire into the orange mare from before.
Soft fur. Colors. Thick, coarse mane. Hat.
I flashed back to my insectual form. My hooves dragged along the sand, leaving trails for the wind to blow over. The voice echoed in my head, from before.
“Destroy the traitors; leave nothing of them.”
I sighed. I don’t belong with them. My hooves turned to walk away from the mountain—
“Hey!”
Someone else! My ears perked up, swiveling to face the source of the sound.
A light purple horse emerged over the crest of a nearby boulder. She — I think it’s a she — had a teal and purple mane and something on her flank. Her head was tilted in confusion, and she walked slowly and cautiously. Sat on the top of her head was a horn, just like mine.
Wait, is that a—
“Chrysalis? What are you still doing here?” She stepped forward, eyeing me up and down. “Shouldn’t you be, oh, I don’t know, running away?” Her voice dripped with malice and — wait, was that… regret?
Shit! Well, at least I have a name now. “I-I was doing exactly that!” My wings unfurled, or at least they tried to, until my left wing’s pain caught up to me. “J-just a— ow. Heh, just a little probl—”
A smirk. “Aww, did sumwone teawr dewr wing?” she mocked.
“None of your business.” I spat, sneering at her. “Shouldn’t you be frolicking with your friends back at the cliff?”
Her eyes went wide. “Oh ho ho, look who's talking about friends.” She smiled wide, almost uncannily. “I bet you have a whole lot here.”
I looked around dumbly.
She sighed, kicking her hoof into the sand, letting her smile droop into an uncertain expression. “I’m sorry. I can’t keep up that façade.” Her eyes locked onto mine. “I… well, the others won’t agree with me,” she glanced at the mountain, “but I think you still have a place with us.”
Huh. Is she acting? Is this some sort of a trap?
“I mean, it’s not going to be as easy as teleporting back and shaking hooves. You’ll still have to give up your love, as your hive did.”
Love? My hive? Wait. I can telepor—
“And of course,” she turned, “You’ll have to drop the whole evil-tyrannical-queen thing too. I doubt we could assimilate you as a princess, at least immediately, but Twilight would love to see what you could do. Changeling magic is rare as it is, and Thorax… ”
I shuddered involuntarily.
“... well, Thorax has been a bit busy since he was reformed, being on the run and all. From you, no less.” She giggled darkly, and her gaze drifted up in thought. “I wonder how the Elements would react to you being so close to them.”
“Elements?”
Her head whipped towards me, eyes wide in concern. “The Elements… of Harmony? Are you OK, Chrysalis?”
Better now than never.
I moved to stand in front of her, lowering my head to hers. “Y-you don’t know who I am,” I stammered.
She waved her hoof. “Pshh, you’re Chrysalis, queen of the changelings! The one and only.” Her eyes darted around. “Or at least, I hope so—”
“I’m Alex,” I deadpanned. “Alex Barton. Not a changeling. Not a horse. And most certainly, not a queen of anything. I don’t know who you are, or where the fuck I even am. All I know is that everybody else knows me, and I don’t think that’s a good thing, considering I got put in this stupid body mid-flight off of a cliff!”
She laughed. “If you didn’t look as vulnerable as you do, I’d honestly think you were joking!” Her voice turned serious. “I can take you back to Twilight for a quick check up. You must’ve hit the ground pretty hard on the way here.”
I reared my head in panic. “N-no, I think I’ll be fi—”
“Nonsense! Actually, I can bring her here!”
Uh oh.
Two bursts of light later, and a slightly-darker-shade-of-purple unicorn stood in front of you.
“Starlight? Why’d you bring me he—” Her eyes met mine. “ Starlight! Why is Chrysalis here!? And why are you here? We’ve been looking for you for the last thirty minutes!” She crouched down with a determined expression, her horn pointing directly at me. “We gave her a chance. If she wouldn’t take it before, now she— “
I stiffened up. This is how I die.
“— s-she can, uh…” Her eyes caught my torn wing, and flitted up to see the bruise on my head. “Starlight?” She spoke slowly. “Why does Chrysalis appear to have concussed herself, torn her wing, and not teleport away or kill you yet?”
Starlight shrugged.
“L-Look! I’m not who you think I am!” I pleaded, turning to Twilight. “I don’t know what Elements of Harmony are, I don’t know who you are, or—”
Twilight looked sideways at Starlight. “Scratch that, she definitely concussed herself.”
Starlight nodded, and walked up next to her, facing me. “Look, why don’t we just head back to the Kingdom, make amends, and everypony can be happy?”
I hesitated. This all seems too easy. Why would they just take me back? I don’t even know what I did! Well, apart from lose a kingdom. Did they take it from me? I’m powerful enough to warrant the status of a queen, and on top of that, be valued by my own enemies. At this point, I didn't even know who to follow. I might as well go with what they wanted. It’s not like I have any choice except to wallow around in the desert. Injured. Alone.
I nodded with a weak smile. “Alright. I… guess I’ll join you.”
Starlight smiled warmly. “Great!” She turned to Twilight, glancing at my injuries. “I think you should fix her up before we get back to the Princesses. Wouldn’t want to make it look like we forced her to reform.”
Twilight nodded with a determined gaze. “Got it.”
She stepped in front of me and lowered her head, horn facing towards my wing. It glowed with a faint purple light, and a beam of energy shot forward and struck my wing, enveloping it in the same color. It felt cold and numb, and seeped through the tear, building up at the edges and pulling it closed. Twilight paused, refocusing on my head. Another pulse, this time blue in color, swelled around the bruise on my head. It felt much warmer, soothing the welt.
I sighed in relief as the magic faded away, spreading my wings experimentally. “Thank you, Twilight.”
“No problem! It’s… what I do.”
“Now then.” Starlight moved to my right. “Should we be getting back?”
I walked with the group, feeling very relaxed. My body felt like my movements were uninhibited by anything. Perhaps the spell did more than just heal me. Maybe it increased my vitality all together? Magic is confusing…
After thinking about that for a short time, we made our way back, taking a nearly swept-over path almost halfway back to the mountain before we stopped to recuperate from the long walk, mostly by my request after 20 minutes of walking. Even with a healing spell, it still didn’t make my exhaustion come any slower.
“We should really get going...” Starlight muttered.
Something caught my eye. I whipped around to see — a changeling. It was of the same appearance as me, and it was staring directly at me. Its horn lit up as it teleported away in a brilliant flash of green.
I rule over those. I rule over a kingdom. The ones I made.
Wait… I didn’t make these. I began to hyperventilate; these aren’t my memories! My memories were on Earth, with my dad, my mom, my family and f-friends!
My breaths came out quicker and quicker, and each gasp was heavier, bringing more air into my lungs. Cadence. Shining Armor. Starlight Glimmer, Princess Celestia, Princess Luna, Thorax, Canterlot. My hive. No. No! I don’t want this! I locked up. Too many things were going on inside of my head. I can’t handle it, I can’t take it! I don’t want to be Queen Chrysalis!
I heard two sniveling, nasally voices, but in the position I was in, it looked like it came from those two ponies—that’s what they were called— in front of me.
My Queen. Are you well? The voice hadn’t sneered, but it was close enough to a sneer, but with a light tone of worry behind its voice.
It seemed like the ‘direction’ the voice had come from was my right, where Starlight was.
On my left where Twilight was,I heard another voice, but this voice was disapproving and upset.
No, she’s too weak to lead. The voice had anger behind it’s tone, and it definitely had sneered at me.
I… so many things were going on. I could hear more than just one voice in my head, and I had a unknown amount of new memories within my mind. My thoughts were jumbled, and my movements were sluggish as I kept breathing… I took in one large gulp of air, before letting it out, eyes frantically darting around. I can’t do it!I can’t go back like this!
And with a flash, I was gone.
~~~
I took a sharp breath, squeezing my eyes closed as I cowered flat against whatever ground I teleported on. The scent of flowers hit my nose, and my fur was buffed by a cool breeze. Fur? Cool breeze? Where am I? I raised my head, slowly opening my eyes before they shot open.
A lush, hilly landscape rolled out to the horizon, bordered by mountain ranges that were covered, foot to peak, in trees. The hills obstructed a clear view in all directions, but the occasional large shrub and wild plant ended up finishing the job. A brook trailed its way across the landscape, swerving to where I lay before continuing aimlessly towards a nearby cluster of vegetation. The air was warm, if not a little hot, even though the sun was well below its reach.
I stood up, looking further outward until something blue caught my eye against the green foliage all around me. It was my hoof.
Great, another transformation.
This time, however, I didn’t recognize who I’d become. I was shorter than before, and had a light blue coat with no holes in my hooves. An orange, braided mane flowed around the right side of my neck, and there was… a picture of fruit on my flank. I turned to inspect it, but I wasn’t sure what kind of fruit it was. For all I know, it could’ve been a new species of plant. Stuff’s weird on this planet.
Granted, I didn’t know who Chrysalis was either. Maybe this time, nobody would be around, and I could have some time to think. Some time to find help. Some time to—
“Hello?”
Another one. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no.
“Is somepony there?”
I shut my eyes and sunk to the ground, whimpering.
After a few moments of silence, I hesitantly opened my eyes.
A pony stood a ways away with a small basket at its hooves, next to the brook. An orange coat adorned the stranger, and wisps of a dark mane fell from under their wide brimmed hat.
“You must be new here!” She called with a smooth, sonorous voice.
She bounded over and we were a few feet apart. I didn’t move.
“I’m Soft Spurn. Most call me Spurn though.” Her hoof extended.
I glanced from her hoof to her eyes. Golden eyes.
“I’m uh…”
Oh shit oh shit oh shit! I had to think up a name quickly. You can squeeze fruit into juice, and that mark on my hip is what was seemingly some sort of fruit…
“I’m Fruit Juice!”
Yeah, that works.
“Fruit Juice, huh? Nice name!”
I shook her hoof hesitantly, and her golden eyes grew more concerned.
“Why the hesitance?”
… Why the hesitance? I can’t answer that.
“Please..don’t ask.” I muttered.
Her gaze grew very concerned, before lightening.
“Well, I s’pose if you can handle it yourself, that’s fine.”
I can’t handle it myself. I’m not going to open myself up that quickly… but I can ask for help.
“I...well..I don’t have a home. Is there any place that’s at least livable? I don’t want to have to force one of you… errr… ponies, to take me in. I’ll just… live under a tree or something like that.”
Soft Spurn’s voice was melodic, and soft. I guess that makes sense, her first name is Soft, as far as I know..What are these names I’ve been hearing so far, anyway? Starlight… Twilight? What kind of fucking names are those? I zoned out, however, so she repeated herself with a slightly more irritated scrunching of her face and nose.
“Ugh… Sorry, but… you can maybe stay with me?”
After actually hearing her offer, I took it into consideration. No-one knew me here, right? No-one knew I was apparently this ‘Chrysalis’ character, whoever they were. Seeing as they had a bad reputation as far as I knew, that was a good thing. So, all in all, there really wasn’t a reason to not accept her offer.
“You know what… sure, Soft Spurn. I accept your offer.”
Shaking my doused head, I groaned. The first step I took after accepting Soft Spurn’s offer ended up with me slipping into a river. Fantastic. Now I’ve really made myself look like a complete nutjob in front of bright, colorful ponies.
Soft Spurn was giggling to herself, while I pouted, shaking my head. My mind raced like it was up against Usain Bolt, as I counted up what had transpired so far in my time in this world.
From the top:
I was a girl.
I was a insectoid horse with shapeshifting and magical abilities.
I might have murderous tendencies. Ouch.
I’ve made myself look like a fool…
...And I have no clue what I’m doing.
Well, I’m thoroughly boned.
Having went through a list of ‘what the fuck is going on’, I stretched my hooves out in a way that would not make me fall for a second time, before shaking off the water. “Erm...I’m sorry about that. I usually fall with much more grace.” Hm..My mood was shifting, and I felt more serene, calm, and happier. Why was that? What was that feeling of...suction?
I’d have to move past it as Soft Spurn finally composed herself, waving me along with a hoof. I turned and observed all who trotted past me, so many different style manes and colors and tattoo...things. It was astonishing and overwhelming in more ways than one.
Soft Spurn walked along, humming to herself a little tune. I was curious as to why people were waving at me and not trying to be mean to me, or hurt me. Tilting my head, I spoke to Soft Spurn.
“What’s the name of this little village?”
She stopped trotting along to plant her hooves down in place, speaking to me. I learned that the town’s name was…
“Gardener’s Hollow!”
Nice name..Eloquent, and sells the point of the village, that’s for damn sure. I’ve seen so many gardens!
There were so many..a beautiful patch of roses here, a row of dandelion’s, sunflowers, and some weird pointy flowers next to them. Very beautiful. I gazed at the different architecture of the buildings within the town, smiling at how nice they looked. I was actually enjoying myself, and I hadn’t even done anything yet!
It was nice.
I tried to grab a flower that had fallen with my hoof, and after the fifth try, I managed to get there. “H-here you go!” I extended my hoof out to the silver-furred, black maned mare. In this moment of absurdity, I can’t fathom how I haven’t had a mental breakdown yet!
I’m a talking bug that can shapeshift and teleport, speaking to colorful horses with weird flowers and shit! It’s weird! But, somehow, my mind didn’t completely shatter, even with how discordant and spread out my thoughts were.
As I came back from my inner monologue, I saw the mare taking the flower from my hoof with a thanks of gratitude. Weird. People didn’t usually thank me for trying to be helpful. Must’ve been a fluke of compassion. Turning my head to Soft Spurn, she had a small smile on her face… Why are these people so weird?
Shaking my head, I brushed my braided mane out of the way of my eyes, blowing a strand of hair off my nose, feeling my face ‘scrunch’ in response to the stimulation.
My face slackened as I sighed, letting my mind wander as I went back to walking alongside the other mare. What was my plan from here?
