Sing the Praise of the Nightmare King
The Badlands Hive, Equestria.
The winding tunnels of the hive was a near constant buzz of ‘lings coming and going. The air was thick with stress, heavy with the pheromones from many a changeling that was starving yet pushed to continue, working no matter how dire the situation.
They were hundreds strong, yet there was no joy, no pride, no life beyond the struggle for their next meagre meal.
Deep within the bowels of the hive, lay the Hatchery. A warren of tunnels and rooms devoted to the care and comfort of the hives youngest members. It was here that one changeling worked. Day after day, ceaselessly she cleaned, fed, and nurtured the dozens of grubs.
She was not of the hive, a ‘ling with a scarlet shell instead of blue, vibrant red, cloth-like wings made of sturdy membrane lay limp at her sides like a cloak, and her eyes glowed red with a foreign power. Her frame was of a heavier build than her cousins. Though her legs were like twigs, and her horn a slender, sharp instrument. The membrane that made up the fins of her ears was a reddish-pink and her matching tail was long enough to brush the ground.
This crimson changeling had finally settled the last of the grubs, sending pleasant thoughts through the enclosed hivemind she shared with those present in the Hatchery, when a small escort of armoured drones filed into the room.
She looked up, a raised brow at them got one of them to speak.
“You are to be brought before The Queen, Kindler,” one of them said.
The caretaker took one look at the grubs, most sleeping away the hunger pangs, others sleeping restlessly.
She knew this could not last. With a quiet sigh, she held her head high as she was led out of the chamber.
Guards flanked her on either side as she was paraded through the hive, other ‘lings stopping only to hiss at her. Some though, the many who were of timid disposition, nodded at her in sympathy. These brothers and sisters that were different, ignored at best and tormented at worst, had found solace in her unconditional respect and kindness since she took up a post here many moons ago.
If she could, she’d tell those sweet souls to run, to flee and form a hive of their own. But for all the comradery, the sanctuary she offered these softer ‘lings, she could not take such a drastic action and escape The Queen’s notice. So, she walked resolutely to the Throne Room.
She ignored the whispers and scattered thoughts that went through the larger hivemind that the adult ‘lings shared. She would give her detractors neither her time nor her energy, and those that sympathised with her would only be in danger themselves if she were to reach out to them now.
As she was shoved passed the threshold into the Throne at the very heart of the hive, she knew this day would come sooner or later.
She was a Kindler, a herald of a Queen’s end.
The throne that took centre stage in the room was an impressive, intimidating thing. All black stone and jagged points that reached to the heavens. Though nothing was more terrifying than the figure that sat in it. Queen Chrysalis towered over her subjects (Her children, the scarlet ‘ling thought bitterly), her presence in the hivemind was indomitable, an all-commanding will that cowed even the most battle hardened of her soldiers. The Queen herself was a creature sleek of form and sharp of wit, and now the green, cold gaze was focused squarely on the red shelled caretaker.
“Kindler,” The Queen sneered. “It has come to my attention that you have…complaints…”
“I am a Kindler, yes,” she replied. “It is my duty to oversee the hive and her resources,”
She did not balk when The Queen’s lips curled into a sneer. It only emboldened her, and she continued. “We are hundreds strong and starving! You refuse to let ‘lings leave to seek out their own fates elsewhere, we cannot sustain these numbers! The grubs grow weaker each passing year, our strength as a species is wanning. What good is your plan to conquer Equestria when our ranks are riddled with the half-starved and malnourished?”
She flared her wings open. “As Kindler, I invoke my right to light The Sacred Lantern.”
“You will do No. Such. Thing.” The Queen hissed. “We will take Canterlot, and then all of Equestria and my subjects will never hunger again!” a green, ominous light encased the ruler’s horn. “Unless you’d like to Challenge your Queen?”
The guards stepped away to form a loose perimeter around the throne. The Kindler looked her ruler in the eyes. To challenge the Queen was to question her capacity to rule, to provide a future for her kin. A Kindler was assigned to a hive, one ‘ling that acted not on the will of The Queen, but for the good of the hive.
The end of one rule opens the way to a chance to do better. She recited. It was a creed followed by all those touched by The Scarlet Flame, the fires of will born from a harsh reality.
The same fire that fuelled The Nightmare Heart, the birthplace of The Scarlet Hive she was born in.
There was only one monarch she would answer to, and it was not the half-mad bug that sat before her.
“The lantern must be lit, there will be no renewal if this continues.” The Kindler stated. “Either light the lantern and let the due process run its course or-”
She darted out of the way of a blast of magic, Yet the Queen fired again.
And again.
The Kindler snapped open her wings and flew low to the ground, doing everything in her power to avoid being hit. Hemolymph rushed through her veins, her magic singing to be let out in retaliation to the threat.
She refrained. If she could just get to the lantern…
“You worthless, insolent little grub!” Chrysalis roared as she took wing and sent another bolt of magic at the now scrambling Kindler ‘ling. “This is my hive, and I will not see years of planning wasted because of one nagging worm!”
The smaller ‘ling slipped past the guards and barrelled down the tunnels with the enraged Queen on her tail. And within moments the ruby shelled ‘ling was weaving in and out of the other changelings that were trying to catch her at their ruler’s order.
She slipped through their hooves like smoke, twirling as she danced between a mob of ‘lings that descended from the tunnels above. The Queen was frothing mad, snarling with fury behind her which was quickly drowned out by the buzzing of dozens of pairs of wings. The Queen had an army at her beck and call and every single bit of power the monarch exercised was now being used to strike the Kindler down.
As she rounded a corner, the tunnel opened up into a large room carved from stone far below ground. A high, arched ceiling overlooked a single metal brazier that was planted in a pile of still-warm coals. The tall torch was made of metal, a thin pole of twisting strands of iron that opened into an outstretched claw.
The Nightmare Lantern was in her sight, the Kindler called forth her magic, horn glowing with red, flickering firelight.
Her concentration was broken when she felt another body collide with her own, sending them tumbling to the stone floor. She landed on her back, one wing twisted painfully beneath her as the other ‘ling hurried to keep her pinned.
Her stomach sank as she recognised the her captor.
“Thorax? Why?”
Thorax, one of many she had raised, had helped, looked away in shame, fin-like ears drooping.
The sting of betrayal ran as deep as the pain of her crushed wing.
The cacophony of noise ceased as The Queen approached, landing before the downed Kindler with a triumphant smirk adorning her features.
“Very good,” The Queen cooed as Thorax shot the captured ‘ling one last apologetic look before skittering aside. Chrysalis grabbed a hold of the scarlet bug with her magic and roughly jerked her up to be eye-to-eye with the ruler. “You’re a persistent one, Kindler. But as long as the lantern remains unlit, your King can’t save you…”
“Silencing me will do nothing, I am not the only one who can see the poor state this hive is in.” The Kindler pointed out. “This hive is doomed with you at her helm.”
“But your voice is the loudest among the traitors,” Chrysalis said and laughed. “Your usefulness has ended dear Kindler, and as punishment for your treason-”
“So my job is treason now? Lovely.” Sarcasm rolled off the Kindler’s tongue like water off a duck’s back.
“Feisty, how amusing. But you won’t be so spirited when I’m done with you...” The Queen said and the glow around her horn intensified.
By sundown, The Kindler’s battered form was tossed out into the wastes. Burns from The Queen’s magic left glowing marks on her chitin, her wings were torn into ribbons, and horn was nothing more than a stump. The pain kept her conscious as she lay on the barren ground far from the hive, the cool evening air a welcome relief to her broken form.
As the moon rose, the silhouette of The Mare in the Moon was her only company as the temperature dropped further, the cold numbed the pain enough that she could force herself to her hooves.
With monumental effort, The Kindler walked.
She had failed to light the lantern, but Chrysalis, in her arrogance, had left the ‘ling alive. Injured yes, but alive. The Kindler could report back to The Scarlet Hive, her kin and alert them to the situation. These things happened, a Queen got attached to her throne, drunk on power, or too desperate to surrender to the way of things. And in that instance, it was the Kindler’s duty to ensure that a new ruler took command of the hive.
End her Reign, Save the Hive.
There was a speck of movement on the horizon. A red glow that became a promise of hope for the changeling as it drew closer. A crimson carriage, ornate in design, was pulled by two tall insects. The giant bugs pulling the carriage were red in colour, thin black legs carrying the transport at a steady pace. Long necks with almost equine-like faces covered with white masks allowed the creatures to spot her easily as they approached.
The carriage came to a stop and the changeling practically stumbled up to the closed door, the carriage windows covered by rich red curtains.
The door opened and a figure stepped out to meet her. A bipedal bug, taller than Chrysalis, wrapped in a grey and red cloak that wrapped about his form and looked to be a part of him as much as the Kindler’s own wings were a part of her. Black horns curved in a crescent a top his head and a pair of glowing red eyes set into a white, mask like face peered down at her.
He knelt down, a black, chitinous limb extending from the folds of his cloak to gently hold up the torn remains on one wing for inspection. The Kindler focused on breathing, on keeping her heart steady through the pain and exhaustion.
He spoke, a rasping voice that reminded the ‘ling of crackling flames. “To think, one of my Chosen would do this to one of her own…”
“It happens.” She groaned as he let go of her wing to carefully pick her up, he was warm, practically radiating heat that soothed the worst of her pain.
He made a sound, displeased by the notion. “It should not be the case Little Kindler,” He stood up and brought her with him into the carriage. The interior was just as opulent as the exterior with plush seating and multiple cushions. He took a seat and let her rest on his lap. “Tell me friend, have you chosen a name?”
“Not yet, I joined the hive fresh out of my final molt. Was too busy to assign myself one.” She replied weakly, by The Heart she was so tired.
She could barely keep her eyes open, and her mind wandered, barely clinging to awareness as the moth hummed in sympathy.
“Then I name thee… Hearth.”
She snapped awake, staring up at him in awe as the word burned itself into her mind, ancient magic cementing the word as her name, hers. A symbol of identity and purpose that rarely came from the being that had rescued her.
“…I am honoured by your kindness, Your Majesty,” The newly named Hearth said awkwardly, and the moth chuckled.
“As King, I do not look kindly upon those that harm my Kindlers,” the moth said, a hand glowing white with magic as he pressed it against her burnt carapace, the pain soothed and chitin mending itself under his spell. “Chrysalis will face her end in time, but her hive is but one of many places I tend to, there are others who’s end I herald.”
The shock of gaining a name was quickly fading, overruled by her physical condition. Hearth wanted nothing more than to sleep the rest of the night, and her pain, away. The carriage lurched into motion. The constant sound of its rumbling movement lulled her further into desiring sleep. Whether he could sense it, or see it written across her face, the taller being gently used his free hand to nudge her into lying down.
“Rest my friend, when you are healed, you are welcome to assist me in my duties. It has been quite some time since a Kindler joined the troupe.”
“…thank you, Master Grimm.” She mumbled, dimly remembering that The Nightmare King preferred to be called Troupe Master in his mortal guise.
“You are most welcome, brave Kindler.”