Or was it twenty-seven?
Chitinous hooves clack against cold cave floor as I pace. Thorax, that traitor. Scum, filth. The air in here is so stifling. My face scrunches and unscrunches as I sniff, trying to get a good breath. It's stale and unsatisfying, and if I can't get a good one soon, I feel like I'll lose my mind. I sniff harder, which only serves to force more of the unpleasant air into my lungs. I go outside.
I make the mistake of looking at the large pile of boulders nearby. Was that one always there? Was it twenty-eight or twenty-nine? I stare at them. Count them. Twenty-eight. Was it twenty-seven before? I blink away the sight, but it doesn't go away even when I turn my head. Trees above sway gently, a mockingly comforting sound. Maybe I should go back inside.
My breath is raspy. Why is the air so damn stifling? Should I add a third ventilation shaft? It was never this bad, even in the deepest hive tunnels. Ugh. Thorax. And his cursed pony friends. Clack clack clack, pace pace pace. Maybe I should dig a second exit just in case. Can't let them trap me in here. Can't let them beat me.
I blast a large hole through the ceiling in the back, just wide enough to fit through, then cover the outside of it with brush. Yes, safe now. And better ventilation.
I add more mucus to my lair. Another layer in the lair. Ha. Hahaha. I laugh out loud and it goes on for far too long, making me cough. The new lair is good. The lair's air is not. The bare lair air there. I hate puns and cutesy rhyming trash. That's for ponies. Ponies are food. I am above them. Why did I laugh, then? It wasn't clever. I'm better than that.
I force a scowl.
Much better.
Speaking of lairs, I've made a new one each week for three years now. Have to keep moving, after all. Can't let them find me. Can't let them win. They won't, not while I still draw breath. Thick and stagnant breath, like breathing ash. It's too warm in here. Colder than the hive was, but I just feel too warm. The oppressing warmth isn't even the cave; it's everywhere, like it's stuck under my chitin. I lick my lips, very aware of the subconscious act. What am I even doing? I'm staring at a Hive-damned wall. I growl and kick it, cracking the hardened mucus layer covering the rock. I try to calm down with a sigh, only far too conscious of how thick and disgusting the air tastes. I spit it out like viscous saliva.
Getting low on love, and I need more. I leave and make a conscious effort not to look at the pile again, but the damned thing sneaks into my peripheral vision.
Was it twenty-seven?
I infiltrated Hoofington again for love. I wasn't caught. I did everything right. The stallion at the market who stared just one second too long knew nothing. Probably just checking out my ass or something. No, he didn't know. I did everything right. He didn't know.
I'm feeling strong again. Strong enough that I was able to set up wards and magic alarms that only ponies or former changelings will trip. Ha. Just let them try to get me now. I dare them.
I counted the pile when I was coming back in. Twenty-eight. Was it twenty-nine before? I placed extra wards on it just to be sure. I'm onto their tricks.
On second thought, I hope he did know. The stallion in the market, that is. I hope they try to find me. They won't catch me. Maybe if they find me, they'll realize just how hopeless their efforts are. I'll already be gone.
When I was in the market, I briefly shifted my eyes back just to prove how pointless their constant pursuit of me is. I openly mocked them, and not a single pony noticed. I dared them to notice. The stallion who stared – had he noticed? I hope so. He kind of looked like a stallion stuffer to me, so he probably wasn't staring at my ass. So why did his eyes linger on me for a second too long? That one second stretches to an eternity in my memory as I try to recall his expression. Was he surprised? Afraid? I can't remember.
I'm panting in anticipation as if any second now, a horde of ponies and what used to be changelings will burst through the entrance and overwhelm me. I remain expectant for several minutes, even though the alarms would trigger the moment a pony was anywhere near this part of the forest. Regardless, my heart is still racing. They might have counter wards, after all. Any second now. Staring at the light spilling in, every move outside sets me on edge, my nerves on a hair trigger. I'm a coiled spring, ready to pounce. Ready to fight, to blast them with raw energy, then flee deeper into the forest where they can't follow my trail. There! No, just a branch swaying into view. My horn's glow dissipates. Maybe he didn't know.
I did have a pretty nice ass for a pony.
I eat an apple I stole from a stupid mare who wasn't watching her bags. The taste is disgustingly pleasant. I miss the fungus of the old hive – tasteless nourishment. None of this pointless flavor. It tastes like sweet empty promises of happy times ahead. The shiny red skin taunts me. Friendship, happiness, bright and cheerful days, come on Chryssie, we can all get along and live in peace. No. You are food. I take another vicious bite of the apple and swallow without chewing it enough, large chunks sliding down my throat uncomfortably. Just food.
With my gnawing hunger reduced to a growl, I can focus on other things like clearing the air. With a simple spell, I create a strong draft through the cave and then wait outside. Outside with the pile.
It mocks me, but I show it who's boss by turning on it with a grim smirk. I count the boulders. It's not going to win. I commit all of them to memory, each protruding shape and color and position of every single one. I stare until I can count them from memory. Twenty-eight. Every time, it's twenty-eight.
But when was it twenty-nine?
With my wind spell finished, I go back inside the cave. Ah, fresh air at last. I breathe it in deeply, over and over, hyperventilating until my head swims and I feel like giggling madly over my glorious victory. A wicked, toothy smile splits my face. Not today, cave.
It's still too warm, though.
I sigh, and as I breathe in, the air is just as putrid and thick as it was this morning.
I retch, and vomit a small splash of dark green bile flecked with little bits of cheerful red apple skin. I'm glad I managed to keep most of the food down. I can't afford to be careless with it. I retch again, and run outside before I lose more calories. I manage to ignore the pile and, wings spread, take flight.
My flight path is directionless and wandering. I know I'm exposing myself by flying during the day, but my fear of being found is far outweighed by my need to distance myself from my lair. I find a tall tree, and land among its upper branches, gulping lungfuls of sweet not-lair air. I gasp out an unexpected heavy sob, then let rage overwhelm me to stop myself from showing weakness.
Showing to who?
Doesn't matter. Anyone. Myself. Can't be weak. I growl, and grind my teeth until the deep sadness dies (but only after struggling like a bleeding animal). Then a bright explosion of loud mental images floods my mind, nonsensical colorful shapes simply meant to get my attention.
The alarm!
I leap out of the tree, and pour all of my energy into making my wings buzz faster. Have to get back. Can't let them find my lair.
By the time I arrive, there are no ponies or ex-changelings around. None that I can see, anyway. There is, however, a bright yellow sheet of parchment stuck to the wall just inside my cave. Curiosity gets the best of me, and I pull the sheet off the sticky wall with my magic. The letters on it are neatly written.
Chrysalis,
I know we haven't seen eye to eye, especially given my takeover of the hive. I know it must have been hard for you, but I want what is best for everyling, even you. I can't really put into words how much better life has been since we stopped having to feed on ponies. I think you deserve better, too. I just want you to know that you are always welcome back to the hive any time as long as you don't hurt anyling. A lot of us here miss you, and would be glad to have you back.
If you are scared of punishment, I promise we are willing to forgive your past as long as you work to make a good future. I've personally issued a command that noling is to harm you while you remain peaceful, under penalty of temporary banishment.
By the way, Pharynx sends his regards. I think he misses you too. He can be a stubborn hoofful at times, but even he has embraced our new ways. Eh, mostly.
Also, we've noticed that you move around a lot. I just want to say, in case you think we're hunting you or out for revenge, that's not true. I have been worried about you lately, so I really hope you are doing okay. Again, the offer to come back is always available! Please do not hesitate to seek help from us if you need it. We're always here for you.
(Hopefully) your friend,
Thorax
I finish the letter with a rage-filled sneer. Thorax! Damned traitorous coward! He came here when he knew I was gone. A brief thought of slowly tearing his wings off helps me calm down.
How did they know?! I have been so careful. I've covered my trail so well. Unless he's lying. They just got lucky and found me today, and want me to think that old Chryssie can't handle herself by making me seem like a joke of an infiltrator. I bet it was that stallion stuffer from the market. He followed me here. Yeah, well, I perfected the art of hiding in plain sight! They won't get away with mocking me like this!
I focus inwardly, and create a small ball of superheated energy directly on top of the parchment, completely obliterating it.
Wait.
What if he's still here? My eyes widen, and I look at the pile of boulders. I count them quickly. Twenty-eight. Ah ha! I am pretty sure there were only twenty-seven earlier. I pour a large amount of energy, nearly all of my stored love from Hoofington, into my horn. With a wild cackle, I aim it at the pile of rocks, and release it in a huge, blindingly bright, deadly beam. An explosion gusts past me, blowing my fins straight back, but I hold my ground, my laughter fading back in as the loud blast finishes. Small bits of rock rain down around me. A large dusty cloud obscures my vision of the former pile of rocks. My cackle dies down to an unsteady discordant giggle as I wait for it to clear.
Where's his body?
Was it destroyed?
Did he escape?!
I look about wildly, head twitching and eyes scanning everywhere. My giggle and smile fade completely, replaced by a displeased scowl.
Okay. Okay. Maybe he got away. But he hasn't won yet. I can still escape and make a new lair. Can't let them find me again. Next time they might just attack. This time I'll be even more careful. This time they'll never find me. I'll show them not to mess with me, Queen Chrysalis.
I run headlong into the trees. It's time to find another cave.