My Little Changeling: Love is Life

by Zephyrus Scary

First published 19th of August, 2013

Twisted Spare and friends go on vaguely familiar adventures and learn vaguely familiar lessons about the power of love between Changelings.

Twisted Spare, while studying a book of myths, comes across a terrible prophesy: the ancient evil of Queen Husk, once sealed inside Queen Chrysalis’s heart by the Elements of Unity, is predicted to emerge as a twin to an unloved Goddess—on the date of the coming Change Carnival! Despite her student's worries, the Queen sends Twisted and her assistant, Gaze the cockatrice, out to the hamlet of Fangville, where she is to oversee the preparations of the Carnival.

Where she will meet five certain Changelings that will change her life her forever…

((Cover by Shadowfoxnjp on FA.))

Episode 1: Queen of the Heart

Long ago, when the World was young and the Sun and Moon naught but the Goddesses’ wombs guided carefully by the magic of All, the World was at peace. Predator and Prey, Pretender and Pony, lived together and protected each other, understanding the balance of Life, and from such understanding sprung Love.

Then, the Windigos came into being, teaching Prey the terrible knowledge of Fear and Hatred, which smothered Love, that which gave Life to the Changelings. Though all hives and their Queens fought valiantly and preached the ways that had been since The Beginning, they were too late. All Prey were consumed by Fear and Hatred for their Predators, and the Pretenders found themselves hunted by Ponies.

The only two Changeling Queens, Queen Chrysalis and Queen Husk, left alive after the warring that followed, led their dwindled hives on a journey to find a place yet untouched by the Windigos. It seemed a fruitless endeavor, and just before they came across the Deers, who were not as strongly affected by the Windigos, most believed they would starve. With no Predators to defend themselves against, the Windigos turned the three Pony tribes on each other.

A tentative peace was forged between Changeling and Deer, but it was not long before the Changelings would find themselves a new worry. The fabled Fires of Friendship had been forged when the three Pony tribes found Love between themselves again. The Queens, feeling the shockwave of Love flow over the World, balked and shivered. It had been believed by All that the Fires of Friendship could only come into being with the help of Changelings, but this had not been so.

The now-fearful Queens took this as a mixed omen: Love would once again be plentiful amongst Ponies, but that the Fires had come to Life without them could mean nothing else but that the Changelings would never be welcome by Prey again. If this was not enough, the Fires went up into the Sky to birth the Goddesses, which descended upon the World in the form, not of Changelings, as the stories had always told and which All believed, but of Ponies, representing the three tribes in one with Horn, Wing, and Muscle.

Despairing and alarmed, the Queens taught their hives to no longer help the World with their unequaled power of transformation, but to fool it: to get Love the only way they could, now that All in the World believed the Changelings to be naught but liars of the evilest sort, editing and guiding ancient stories to make themselves look important when for all time they had been mere parasites.

Queen Chrysalis and her hive were most adept at adjusting to this new life, but Queen Husk could not let go of a Hatred that had taken root inside her. Building a massive army, she swore to change the World instead of her hive, using strange magic to make herself and her hive feed off of Fear and Hatred instead of Love.

Though the Windigos had been driven from the World, the knowledge they left behind lingered, giving much power to Queen Husk and her hive, but before even one battle could be fought, Queen Chrysalis confronted her and used the Elements of Unity to lock Queen Husk’s body inside of her Heart.

Without their Queen, the Changelings altered to feed off of Fear and Hatred vanished, but not Forever. Readers of The Stars since before the coming of the Windigos have always told of an event to take place far in the future: A Queen of Fear and Hatred would be reborn as a twin to an unloved Goddess, and an army lost to time would then gather around their Queen.*

“‘Reborn as a twin to an unloved Goddess’?” A Changeling worker** resting beside an underground pool repeats from the book laying before her, tapping her chin in thought. “‘An unloved Goddess’…” She repeats once more, zeroing in on the part of the sentence tickling her memory. “Not only that, but if I’m reading this correctly-” she says as she taps at the curious sentence “-a Goddess that is going to be reborn so Queen Husk can be reborn alongside her as a twin. I’m certain I’ve read something about this before concerning-… concerning… ponies!” she cries out in realization, buzzing her forewings with excitement and worry, lifting herself away from the pool, grabbing the book in her green magic, and flying towards a particular tower of Buzzington Castle, the fortification standing guard over the city of Buzzington, capital of Melipoland, the Changeling underground (in both senses of the word) empire.

The city she flies over is composed mostly of huge slabs of expertly carved shiny black stone, which is complimented by the translucent green wax (which is not really “wax” at all, but a very versatile substance) the Changelings’ own bodies produce and which makes for a astoundingly sturdy construction material once infused with a hardening spell. Buzzington Castle is similar, but only more impressive with its more intricate designs that still take away nothing of its fortifications. The entire giant underground chamber which is Buzzington is illuminated by bulbs of wax enchanted to give off a soft green-tinted light that is not uniform, but shimmers in a multitude of shades like a field of grass on a breezy, sunny day. Everything in the city and castle is hexagonal: doors, windows, and buildings: columns with six walls. With Changelings being as they are, all with a set of hymenopter wings***, there is no need for such things as roads, and while it might seem as if roofs would also be unneeded underground, they are indeed still used, primarily to keep out water dripping from the cave ceiling.

During her flight, the female Changeling with the book of ancient stories is greeted by many, but to none does she respond—this has been so for most of her life, but the others do not give up, and it is easy to see why, for she is none other than Twisted Spare, Spellworker prodigy studying under Queen Chrysalis herself, and at this moment not so much ignoring the greetings as usual, but simply ignorant of them.

Landing on the balcony of her home-away-from-home in one of the castle’s towers, Twisted calls out, “Gaze? Gaze?! Wherever you are, you better get off your lazy tail, because I have research to do, and I need your help!” She huffs as she steps inside and looks up to the vast bookshelves, knowing very well that “wherever” means “probably in bed, not likely to get up at a moment’s notice”.

Surprisingly, the sound of clawed steps comes almost instantly, preceding a cockatrice wearing a green cloth over his eyes arriving through the only doorway; The cloth, while it appears quite opaque from the outside, does not actually block Gaze’s vision, only the inherent magic of his eyes. “Just so you know, I wasn’t sleeping. I was writing a Happy Hatchday card for Silver Wings and trying to think of what to get her for a present. Do you think she’d like a shrinking Celestia doll?” He considers, referring to the popular gift given around the time of the Change Carnival. The doll, enchanted to shrink as the seasons turn to autumn and winter, is meant to represent the waning power of the Pony Princess as the days get shorter, just as the Change Carnival, thrown on the summer solstice, is a celebration of the beginning of same.

Still looking over the bookshelves, and therefore turned away from Gaze, Twisted Spare feels safe in performing a quick roll of her eyes at the mention of someling’s Hatchday, but at the mention of Princess Celestia, she whirls around on him. “Ugh, just forget about that for a moment and focus! I need to cross reference some information to make sure the world is not going to end!”

Gaze jolts. “The world is going to end!?” -but he calms down fairly quickly. “Wait. You’re not talking about that book Queen Chrysalis sent you, are you? You know what ‘mythology’ means… right?” He asks earnestly and not at all acting condescending or superior—with the cloth and beak making it very difficult to read any kind of expression on his face, he was taught—just as every Changeling nymph is taught—to convey his feelings honestly to others of the hive, which for Gaze especially means through his voice.

“Of course, but this isn’t just a myth!” Twisted asserts as she begins to simply methodically pull down all the books in a row, using her magic to quickly locate and scan each book’s table of contents. “If it was just in this book, I’d agree with you, but I’m certain I’ve read something similar to this, and what is science if not the collating and comparing of data? I just need to find that one supporting passage I know exists somewhere in this tower… Hmm… This looks promising! ‘Chapter Two: The Mare in the Moon’; one of the Goddesses was birthed from the Moon in that myth, after all! ‘The Mare in the Moon’ seems like a kind of odd title… but it was given to Her by ponies, and everyone knows how crazy they are!”

“In a myth.” Gaze insists, ignoring Twisted’s tangent and continuing to do nothing helpful as he instead folds his wings and huffs in a scornful way.

Twisted Spare rolls her eyes and decides that, as she’s actually on to something, merely goes on with her research. “Let’s see what we have.” She flips the book closed to look at the cover “The Elements of Harmony: A Reference Guide. ‘Harmony’? That’s strange; the other story called them the Elements of Unity… -but more strange is this!” Surprising Gaze, Twisted whips around and shoves the spine of the book against his beak. “No wonder I can never find a book I want; this was in ‘E’ when this little sticker clearly reads ‘D’!”

Gaze merely stares at the sticker on the spine for a moment before scratching at the side of his head with one of his clawed feet. “Uh, yeah. I thought that was a misprint because the title begins ‘The Elements’. ‘E’.” He shrugs.

“Guh!” Twisted throws her head up in frustration. “That is not how the Queen’s Library Classification works! ‘D’ is world history; ‘E’ is Changeling, and only Changeling history! How many times have I told you this: If you’d bother to learn the system, we wouldn’t have to reorganize the books every weekend!” Gaze opens his beak to retaliate, but a chitinous, holed leg blocks anything him might have said. “Never mind that for now, though; we have more important things on our minds!” she announces as she flips the book open to begin quickly looking over the chapter on The Mare in the Moon.

“‘We’?” Gaze dares to ask.

“Yes, ‘we’.” Twisted affirms, not turning away from her reading. “While I look for clues in here, I need you to find me everything we have on the Elements of Unity.” Almost as soon as the words finish leaving her mouth is a book slammed down next to her: The Elements of Unity: a Reference Guide “Let me guess…” Twisted looks up to see Gaze pointing behind himself with a wing at the ‘E’ shelf, where an empty spot very close to where she had found the book on the Elements of Harmony. “Well, at least one of us has your ‘system’ memorized.” Twisted rolls her eyes once again, but a slow, familial smile rises up in its wake. “Which is what makes ‘one of us’ such an amazing assistant.” Unexpectedly, she pulls him in for a quick hug.

“Aw, Twis…” Gaze blushes, rocking side to side in awkward embarrassment, sure that the only thing saving him from dying from hyperthermia is that noling else is there to witness their moment that transcends their supposed student-assistant relationship. Such a reaction is strange among Changelings, who are open and largely unabashed in displaying their emotions; frequently Twisted had speculated that this may have to do with Gaze being a cockatrice, for Gaze had been raised like a Changeling as much as possible, but as so little is known about Gaze’s kind, the speculation is only what it is.

Releasing him, Twisted waves towards the door. “I think I have all I need for now, so go ahead and get back to that Hatchday card for… whomever. I’ll call if I need you to write to the Queen.”

Practically skipping, Gaze rushes for the door, then turns when he reaches it. “It’s for Silver Wings: the drone who sits next to you in non-animal transformation theory class—who sits next to you on purpose.” Before Twisted can react, Gaze zooms away as soon as he finishes, his giggling fading away until the distant slamming of a door marks its disappearance.

He needn’t have bothered, for Twisted doesn’t not even roll her eyes. Another un-Changeling part of him, she muses, as Silver Wings, whose name she’s now able to put to a set of legs*(4), had made the purpose of his advances quite clear, as Changelings do, but remained undaunted in the face of Twisted’s just-as-clear rebuff. Now, left to the quiet, in her own thoughts, Twisted turns to reading aloud to herself, as she does. It’s not long before she cries out, “Ah! This part looks promising: ‘-the younger sister became resentful. The ponies relished and played in the day her elder sister brought forth, but shunned and slept through her beautiful night.’ So, the unloved Goddess is…-” Coming up blank, Twisted looks quickly over the story, and almost instantly raises her brow in confusion. “-Nightmare Moon!? No wonder the ponies didn’t love-! Wait ‘-the bitterness in the young one’s heart had transformed her-’ Transformed her. Trans-…-formed.”

Gulping involuntarily, eyes widening, Twisted steps back from the very inanimate, quite-incapable-of-hurting-anyling book, wings buzzing from a surge of fear that makes the room feel ten degrees warmer than it had been seconds ago. “No. That doesn’t necessarily mean what I think it means. No.” Twisted tries to calm herself in a progressively higher voice as she takes more and more steps from the book. “No. It doesn’t mean that the Goddesses are Changelings after all. It certainly doesn’t mean they took on the form of ponies—forms that they’ve never left—which resulted in the shunning of Changeling-kind and the war and everything that-” NO! Twisted brings both her forelegs to slam painfully against her own forehead.

Gasping, frozen, Twisted waits to hear the approach of quiet clawed steps again, but as the room remains silent, she comes to realize her “shout” had only been in her mind; some part is grateful that Gaze isn’t coming, but the larger part of her wants to call out and be comforted. No. If that is… right, he doesn’t have to know. It wouldn’t be fair to him. He doesn’t need such a big worry under his wings*(5). “Besides, if it is true, and I could somehow figure out a way to make sure and fix it, right now there’s a more pressing matter: Chrysalis.” Giving herself a resolute nod, Twisted once again steps up to the book that had rendered such a horrible possibility.

Reading on, now silently, from where she had stopped, she pulls back once again soon. “That can’t be right: ‘-banished her permanently in the moon’?” She repeats out loud as if doing so would reveal something different that what the words tell her. “That just can’t be. The unloved Goddess is prophesized to return, not be permanently locked back inside the Moon.” Sighing, nearly ready to admit defeat, Twisted looks up, now at the book shelves, as a word she had just said tickles her memories: prophesized.

Deciding she’ll only call Gaze if she really can’t find the book herself, She reluctantly steps up to the section that should be devoted to Changeling literature: PR. The relatively small section makes it easy to notice the one marked in reference to prophesies: BF. Predictably, its title is Predictions and Prophesies, and, somewhat of a surprise to Twisted, it’s a pony-written book. The index renders many references to the Elements of Harmony, none to either Nightmare Moon or the Elements of Unity, and only one reference to The Mare in the Moon. The entry is short, making it easy for Twisted to zero in on the relevant sentence. “Legend has it that on the longest day of the thousandth year, the stars will aid in her escape, and she will bring about nighttime eternal.”

Twisted looks up at the ceiling, biting her lip, not out of worry for the last part, as she, like most Changelings, live underground when not hunting, so she couldn’t care less about the movements of the Sun and Moon, but out of worry for the part about the thousandth year. “How long ago did the defeat of Nightmare Moon happen? None of these books mention it, and I don’t know where else I could go from here, except…-” Tapping her cheek reservedly, she turns to last book, The Elements of Unity: a Reference Guide. Since none of these pony books mention anything about the Elements of Unity, it doesn’t seem like this one will be useful after all, but I guess I don’t really have anywhere else to turn.

Grimacing skeptically at the book as she approaches it, Twisted opens the tome to the index. “Nightmare Moon? Nothing. Mare in the Moon? Nothing. Queen Husk?” The only passage referenced points to a section that does nothing more than retell the story Twisted had first read. “Ugh! What is the difference any-!? ‘The difference’? Let’s see… ‘Elements of Harmony’? Yes! This might lead somewhere after all! ‘The Elements of Harmony, as near as can be told, appear to be a copy of the Elements of Unity, made by ponies for use by ponies. They have been used many times in the distant past by the Goddesses against foes with powers strong enough to threaten the Goddesses themselves. Mysteriously, they seem to have disappeared after the Goddess of the Sun used them against the Goddess of the Moon, after the latter had been tainted by some unknown evil force. Considered widely by ponies as nothing more than a ponytale, facts are few and far between, but by comparing the most reliable accounts against other historical events, it has been determined this final use of the Elements of Harmony occurred approximately nine hundred fifty years ago, give or take a few deca-’ Nine hundred fifty years!?” Twisted bursts out “No no no no no no no no…” Twisted begs as she flips to the front of the book to examine it’s copyright information: 1974 AFF*(6)—exactly forty years ago and well within the presented ±20 years range.

“The longest day is the Solstice, which is on the day the Change Carnival is held, which is tomorrow, and this could be the year Queen Husk reemerges from Queen Chrysalis’s heart… which does not sound good no matter what that actually entails.” Shaking her head to gather her thoughts into something more ordered, she calls out once more. “Ga- Gaze! Gaze! I need you to send a letter!”

Twisted doesn’t have to wait long for Gaze to arrive, pulling out a scroll and quill (of his own feather) from somewhere inside his plumage. Cockatrice feathers: an mystery wrapped in an enigma enclosed in unstudied magic. Maybe. Who knows what’s under the “unstudied magic” part, really? “Ready!” He says, putting quill to parchment.

“My Queen and Mentor,” Twisted narrates, “In studying the book you sent me along with research elsewhere, I have discovered that we, and especially you, are in imminent danger! The unloved Goddess referred to in the ‘myth’ of Queen Husk is in fact the Goddess Nightmare Moon, who was sealed away and is prophesized to return after a thousand years have passed. These thousand years are coming soon to a close, so I send this to you so preparations in battling Husk and protecting you can be sent into motion immediately. Your faithful student, Twisted Spare.”

Looking uncertain, Gaze writes all this down any, hoping that the Queen—wise as she is—will see that Twisted needs to be talked down and comforted. “‘-faithful… student… Twisted Spare.’ Got it.” Gaze announces, slipping the quill back into his plumage before rolling up the scroll, fitting a wooden seal on a black ribbon to secure it, and finally lifting up his wing to push up a corner of the cloth covering his eyes to create the slightest hole in its defense. At the sight of the seal, a specially designed enchantment cast by Queen Chrysalis herself on the cockatrice activated, allowing his petrifying magic, normally limited to living things, to turn the scroll to stone, which instantly crumbles to dust to be whisked away by a breeze summoned by the very same, single spell.

“There.” Twisted sighs with some relief, if very reserved relief. “I’ve done what I can do for now. All that’s left is to wait for Chrysalis’s instructions. After all, as her personal student, there’s no way she wouldn’t take me seriously.”

- - - -

“I can’t believe she didn’t take my well-researched warning seriously!” Twisted Spare grumbles for about the twenty-fifth time since receiving the Queen’s less-than-satisfactory “answer”. Concentrating on stopping her buzzing forewings (signaling to all how annoyed she is), she lifts the blue elytra “hindwings” on her back to retrieve the Queen’s response kept safe there. Unrolling the scroll, she makes sure to keep it firm in her magic so as not to lose the paper in the slipstream of their carriage’s passing.

“‘My dear student Twisted Spare,’” She begins to read in a mocking voice, not for the first time and not caring that the words she is mocking are her mentor’s and Queen’s. “‘You know how much I trust in your attentiveness and ability, but those old, dusty books are only worth so much time! There is so much more to a young Changeling’s life than knowledge, so I am sending you to supervise the Change Carnival’s preparations in the location I’ll be personally visiting this year: Fangville. Most importantly, however, before the Carnival begins, you are to make some friends.’” Twisted finishes with a gag while sticking her tongue out.

“Fangville?” Gaze asks from beside her, clasping onto his veil with both wings as hard as he can, fearful of what Queen Chrysalis would do if he turned the two pulling the carriage to stone, even if accidentally.

Twisted Spare, not blaming Gaze’s question, for even she had never heard of the place, has to consult the message before confirming. “Yes, Fangville. The only thing I was able to learn while waiting for you to finish packing was that it is a completely unremarkable hamlet except for its direct connection to the ‘supposedly cursed’ Petualoose Mines.”

The sudden onset of confusion almost makes Gaze release his grip. “Cursed mines? I thought curses don’t exist. That’s what you told me after-” Recalling the embarrassing nightmare and glancing toward the two pulling them along, Gaze clamps his beak shut.

“Exactly.” Twisted affirms with not a little pride in her assistant’s knowledge.

Gaze taps the side of his head with one feather before asking, “-but… these Fangville Changelings believe curses exist…?” He half-asks, to which Twisted nods. “-and they believe those, uh, perla- petal-… those mines are cursed?” Twisted hums an affirmative. “-and they still live there? Right next to the mines they think are cursed?”

“Uh-huh.” Twisted rolls her eyes. “As if believing in curses isn’t crazy enough, I wouldn’t be surprised in the least if the entirety of Fangville is actually all ponies disguised as Changelings, because only ponies would be so insane!”

Grumbling incomprehensibly, Twisted slips the message back under her elytra; a moment of quiet comes over the carriage excepting the sound of wheels against the floor of the caves and the sound of the guards’ swift steps. Eventually, Gaze dares to ask, just as the cave widens and the first buildings of Fangville can be seen, “This isn’t going to be a good day, is it?”

Even if Twisted was about to bother the question with the obvious answer, the two pulling them stop. The Changeling and cockatrice step off the carriage so the two can return to Buzzington. “Well, at least I’ll be able to continue my research into Queen Husk, since Chrysalis was kind enough to arrange for us to stay in the library; we’ll go there right after we finish with this checklist she provided.”

“Huh?” Gaze pauses to tilt his head for a moment before rushing to catch up to Twisted, “-but-… but what about the Queen’s directions to make some-”

“Gaze,” Twisted interrupts, “There are more important things to deal with right now! I’m sure the Queen will understand if I make friends after making sure Queen Husk isn’t going to burst out of her thorax tomorrow! Is making some friends going to stop that from happening? No, research is!”

“Aw… come on, Twis! Shouldn’t you at least try talking to one Changeling and try to make friends?” Gaze begs, not wishing to see her get in trouble for putting off any mission given to her, no matter how trivial. “That worker looks pretty friendly!” He insists, waving a wing towards a Changeling with a carefree smile behind her fangs and a happy, hummed tune in her throat, currently contemplating a cluster of glowing mushrooms in someling’s window box.

“Rrrruhh-fff-fine.” Twisted relents, heading towards the Changeling that had by then became uninterested in the mushrooms and was skipping along towards the duo. “Erm, hello?” Twisted attempts to gain the Changeling’s attention with such obvious and painful awkwardness that Gaze winces, suddenly thankful he’s standing slightly behind Twisted where the other worker can’t see him. “My name is Twisted Spare, and I-”

Her self-introduction is interrupted by the other Changeling jumping high and gasping in the most ridiculously over-the-top surprise, seemly taking in so much air that Gaze suspects she should have at least slightly inflated. Without a word, the worker brings her forewings to life and buzzes off over Twisted’s head so fast that by the time Twisted thinks of turning around, there’s absolutely no sign of where she had gone.

Opening up her elytra once more, Twisted says with her muzzle pointed to the cave ceiling, “Just like I said: ‘crazy’. Pony-level crazy. I can’t wait until this year’s Carnival is done with so we can get back to the civilized Buzzington, so what’s first?”

- - - -

“Uh, Twis… are you sure this is the right place?” Gaze’s voice shivers from fear at the land they’re standing before. Not only is the ceiling so cracked that it seems the tiniest disturbance in the air should cause a cave-in, letting in a flood of sunlight, but the cave floor, normally hard rock (which is, in fact, all Gaze had known his entire life until that moment), is here soft soil, like from the surface, and positively covered in a dizzying array of plants of all colors and shapes, many of which look distinctly poisonous and may very well cause death at the touch. The only remotely normal thing about the place is the giant stalagmite (at least three floors high) that had been hollowed into a home, as evidenced by the hexagonal door and occasional window.

“This is where that relatively-normal drone pointed us…” Twisted answers somewhat uncertainly, also not liking the look of those plants, and not willing to fly over them incase it’s their pollen that turns out to be poisonous. “First on the agenda is checking up on the Medkeeper to make sure there’s enough lavage leaf to make traditional lavage drinks for everyling, including all the tourists. Since this is where Queen Chrysalis is going to be for the Carnival, there are going to be a lot of Changelings coming here, and since this is such a small town, I think we’re going to be needing a little importing…”

“Did someling say ‘importing’?” Comes a voice so suddenly that the two jump and they only realize where the voice came from when a shadow in the sunlight shifts. Looking up, they finally spot a worker squeezing herself through one of the wider cracks in the ceiling, which makes Twisted’s eyes bulge with worry that the inevitable cave-in will squish the worker with no means of escape. However, nothing of the sort happens, and Twisted breathes a sigh of relief when the worker pops out of the hole and hovers down before them. “Noling is gon’na be importing any lavage leaf as long as anyling in Fangville has anything to say, because they’ll all say the same: Proxwell’s Herbs is the best there is!” She rears up proudly for a moment before letting herself fall. “Name’s Proxyhack, but mostlings just call me P.H., which you’re welcome to do! I’m Fangville’s one an’ only Medkeeper, because noling ever complains about my work!”

“Uh-huh.” Twisted’s tone is not without some doubt, and not only because the size of Fangville itself calls for, at most, two Medkeepers, but it seems Proxyhack is either ignorant or ignoring it. “Well, I’m Twisted Spare, and I’m here with my assistant, Gaze; we’ve come from Buzzington to check on the preparations for the Carnival to make sure they’re suitable for the Queen’s visit.”

“Oh, my! A real Buzzingtonian!” the Medkeeper leaps back in surprise, looking Twisted up and down a few times before calming, looking disappointed. “Ah, well, huh… You’re not really lookin’ as different as I was expecting.” Instantly, Twisted’s brow shoots up with indignation at these strange words. “Erk! Sorry!” Proxyhack bows her head. “Sorry! Sometimes my mouth just rattles off the strangest things! I really should’ve learned by now not to give it so much freedom, like everyling’s telling me! Eh-heh heh… heh.” Ashamed, the Medkeeper scratches at the fin on the back of her neck and shuffles her elytra together, making them click softly a few times.

Now lowering her brow in exasperation, Twisted turns to Gaze with a look that unmistakably says, See? I told you: Crazy. To which Gaze looks down with a sigh of admitting defeat while scratching at the ground with his bird-like feet. “Ah… Okay, that’s… what it is. I’m in a bit of a hurry, so if you could just show me your stores of lavage leaf, we’ll be on our way, and you can get back to…-” Not knowing much about Medkeeping, or farming at all, Twisted opts to simply wave a foreleg up at the ceiling to refer to whatever Proxyhack had been doing.

“Right this way!” Proxyhack instantly perks up, excited to show off her work. “Mind those blue flowers there; poison joke isn’t ‘harmful’, and it is easy to cure, but its ‘jokes’ can be mighty embarrassing! Just looking at ’em always reminds me of the time someling- Well, I probably shouldn’t say!” She ends with a chuckle as she leads them around the stalagmite house to even larger fields of farmland behind it, with large swathes currently taken up by the oddly shaped lavage leaf plants: clusters of green spheres poking up out of the soil, filled with fluid. Stepping forward between Twisted and the lavage leaf fields, Proxyhack gestures grandly. “Well, what d’ya think? Impressive, ain’t it?”

“Uh, yes, but…” The word has Proxyhack lowering her leg slowly and raising one side of her brow, expectant of what could possibly be “but” about the impressiveness of Proxwell’s Herbs. “I was expecting… the lavage leaf to already be harvested. How do you expect to have all of this ready by tomorrow?!”

“‘Already harvested’?” the Medkeeper lowers he brows, unimpressed and slightly insulted. “Ya don’t ‘harvest’ lavage leaf. Waitin’ ’til the very last possible moment to collect the leaves is the only way to do it, since the drink inside is very fragile, you see.” Then she puts on a smirk. “As f’r collecting it all in time?… Come on down, everyling!” She calls up to the cracked ceiling. “The Queen’s sent somelings to check up on us!”

Almost instantly comes the sound of many somethings scrapping against rock, and much of the sunlight is blocked out, then it’s not long before a veritable swarm comes squeezing out of the cracks, walking upside down on the cave ceiling or flying off a little ways before settling into a hover. “This is only some of the Proxy family, the largest Medkeeper family in the entirety of Melipoland, and they’ve answered the call to make sure everyling will have the best lavage leaf drinks they’ve ever had this Change Carnival!” Proxyhack announces, jumping up to hover before the swarm, striking a prideful pose before flying backwards to wrap a leg about one of the Changelings. “We was just up on the surface having a little family get-together. This is Prox Stem.” Then she introduces the rest, pointing at each, though the gesture is largely rendered unhelpful by how clustered they are. “Hale Proxy, Prox Page, Petal Proxy, Proxy Sage, Salve Prox…” At this point, Twisted gives up trying to keep track of all the names, and turns to wondering why she’d bothered to begin with, since she’ll like as not never see any of these Changelings again. “… -and finally my little sister, Proxy Germ, my big brother, Proxy Trunk, and our matriarch, Grand Prox.” PH finishes, the first two being as hidden as everyling else in the crowd, but the last gesture is towards a Changeling the two from Buzzington had missed, dozing in a rocking chair, her chitin grayed from age.

“Oka-aaay, well, the lavage leaf situation looks taken care of. Gaze?” Twisted says as she turns around, ready to leave the herb farm behind.

“Lavage leaves: check!” Gaze marks off a box on the list Chrysalis had provided.

“You’re leavin’ already?” Comes the higher voice of a young worker nymph, buzzing down out of the swarm, wobbling; Twisted can see instantly that her wings couldn’t have grown in more than a month ago, and guess this to be Proxy Germ. “Don’t ya wan’na try some first?” The nymph almost begs.

Involuntarily, Twisted’s elytra click and scrape together, expressing annoyance, which makes the nymph rub her own elytra together anxiously, which instantly makes Twisted frown and lower her head with guilt. “Erm, well, we-… I would like to, but we-”

“Come on, Twis!” Gaze implores spreading his wings. “It’s not like we’re in that big of a hurry; we can afford a little break!” Before going on, he leans forward conspiratorially, but doesn’t actually lower his voice. “-and we’re not just here for the Carnival, either, remember?” He taps the scroll unnecessarily.

“Ugh… Fine.” Twisted relents, making it as clear as she can in her tone that she’d rather not, but such doesn’t deter the Proxy Family from cheering and clicking their elytra in excited applause.

- - - -

“Urf… Who knew there was such a huge variety in lavage leaf recipes?” Twisted moans as her slightly inflated stomach, groans and sloshes painfully with every step. “We certainly wasted enough time.” Even without managing to get much heat into her voice, the glower she directs at Gaze has him appropriately cowed.

“Alright, alright, I’m sorry! I’m just saying I didn’t know they would want you to try everything.” Looking around for a change of topic, Gaze notes how Twisted has lead them into what could only be a tunnel that has been apparently abandoned for one reason or another. “Hey, were are we going now?”

“To check up on the caves leading into Fangville from other cities.” Twisted answers, glad for something to focus on to take her mind off her gut. “In preparation for the Carnival, these tunnels are being widened in order to allow more traffic. Since Fangville is so small, not many of those attending are- or rather, can stay in town; tomorrow, this tunnel, and a couple others, are going to be completely swarmed.”

“Oh,” is all Gaze has to say about that, scraping his claws idly against the floor, which, after a moment, catches Twisted’s attention, and she leans down to more closely inspect the floor.

“Hmph!” Twisted huffs with distain as she slides her tarsus*(7) across the undeniably uneven surface. “I may not know much about Cavekeeping, but this is beyond pitiful! Look! Someling could trip on this lip here, which would be especially dangerous with all the expected traffic tomorrow! Where in Tartarus are the Cavekeepers that are supposed to be working on this?!”

As if in answer, a voice crying in alarm comes instantly. “Look out!” Before Twisted can even register from which direction the voice is coming from, a great weight—a boulder—slams into Twisted’s side. Before even any pain from the impact can be registered, Twisted feels a powerful rising inside her and all—or almost all—of the lavage leaf drinks she had ingested comes spewing out. At least all of the liquid made itself useful and sacrificed itself to cushion the blow, is the first thing Twisted thinks upon realizing that she’d finally stopped rolling across the ground.

The next thing Twisted thinks is that she’s never to forgive the worker responsible no matter how many times she apologizes. “I’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorry!” The worker that had been carrying the boulder at such irresponsible speeds apologizes without pausing for breath as she releases her hold on the rock and buzzes down to land at Twisted’s side. “I didn’t think anyling was going to be here, what with all the construction warning signs and- What are you doing here?” The worker asks, glancing curiously up at the cockatrice rushing up to them, carefully avoiding the long splatters of sick.

“Twisted! Twisted! Twis! Are you all right?!” He puffs out as he comes alongside her; looking up in the direction from which he’d come, Twisted’s eyes widen slightly at the distance the boulder had launched her. Just how fast was that Cavekeeper going? -with a boulder that big?! Her eyes widen a little further as she reconsiders chewing the obviously very physically fit worker crouched beside her, the Cavekeeper’s wings creating a whining buzz of worry.

“I’m fine, Gaze. Fine,” Twisted repeats more quietly, more to herself as she turns to examine the side that had taken the blow, and she subsequently taps at the scrapes and dents in her chitin. “Great. Just great. I haven’t had to shed in a long time—a personal record—but now I’ll definitely have to.” Twisted, however, keeps no record of how long it had been since her last shedding, considering that at least she can indirectly guilt the one responsible even if she daren’t do so more confrontationally. “As for what I’m doing here, we were sent here to check up the expansion projects, and the other tunnels better not look like this, or I’m going to have to get some extra help called down here, which will probably not be very good for your future.” Twisted finishes with a smirk and growl, but she’s abruptly stopped by the completely unfazed worker.

“Ha!” The worker directs the derisively forced laugh at the ceiling. “If you’d just bothered to ask around, you’d know that everyling in Fangville knows I, Repeat Design, am the fastest Cavekeeper in the world!” She was pretty fast, even carrying that boulder, but that doesn’t mean anything about her spellwork! Pulling herself onto all fours with Gaze’s wing for help, Twisted brushes off some dust in a display of unconcern. “If you doubt me…” Repeat instantly takes note of Twisted’s posturing. “-then what do you want to bet?”

An evil grin spreads up from Twisted’s fangs, but Repeat continues to look her in the eyes, confident. “Very well. If you can flatten this tunnel’s floor in… ten seconds or less, I won’t entertain the thought of telling your supervisors of your negligence,” Twisted poses, believing she’s set an impossible standard.

Repeat, however, doesn’t lose face; instead, she clicks her elytra and waves her head around in the manner of a bull showing off its horns, crowing, “You’re on!” Firing up her horn, Repeat’s magic sets the entire cave alight as if a fluorescent paint had been spilled down the entire tunnel. Instantly, Twisted begins to count in her head, but a rumbling as Repeat’s spell begins to work sends her nearly tumbling to the ground again, and in her panic to jump and hover, Twisted loses her count. Not that such matters, for only a few seconds later does the rumbling stop and Repeat Design’s magic fade away, unveiling a flawlessly smooth floor, with the streaks of vomit gone for good measure. At the sight, Twisted drops to the ground just as her jaw drops open, and she only reawakens when Repeat next speaks.

“So? How did I do? How many seconds?” Repeat asks, buzzing her wings, eager to know for sure how quickly she had finished.

Shaking her head to regain herself, Twisted admits hesitantly, “I… don’t know. I got distracted when the rumbling from the spell started, and lost my count.”

Obviously fighting back a smirk of amusement, Repeat turns to the chuckling Gaze. “What about you, little guy? Did you keep count?”

Gaze makes a “ha-rumph” sound at the term “little guy”, and seriously considers lying and saying that Repeat had taken longer than ten seconds, but his next thought is that he doesn’t want to be responsible for the worker potentially losing her job from losing Twisted’s bet (which she had, in fact, won, but noling knows that), so he admits in turn, “I wasn’t keeping track; I thought Twisted would be able to keep track.”

Groaning from frustration, Repeat slaps a foretarsus to her forehead.

“Just forget about it,” Repeat and Twisted say at the same time, making the former giggle, which prompts Twisted to follow hesitantly before saying, “You’re work was… definitely quick enough. -and quality, too!” she adds, gesturing vaguely to the floor.

“Hey, thanks!” Repeat surprises the Buzzingtonian with a friendly slap to the back of her neck, which presses her fin so it remains slightly crooked even when the other pulls her leg back to herself. “Well, if that’s all, I’m gon’na get back to training!” The Cavekeeper give a salute before returning to her boulder, lifting it with only little apparent strain.

“Training for-?” Twisted begins to ask, but already the worker has zoomed away beyond hearing, and soon beyond sight. Huffing, then shrugging, Twisted turns back to town, not noticing the big, knowing smile at the corners of Gaze’s beak.

“Cave widening: check!” He announces happily. Making a friend: … maybe-check.

- - - -

“Next up: checking on the preparations for The Exodus play,” Twisted rereads from the list, looking up at the expanse of open cave before them. “Usually it’s held in the biggest open space a town has, and this is the only place big enough, period, so…” Looking back and forth, Twisted eventually points towards what looks like a hastily erected, temporary building. “That looks promising,” she notes, leading the way.

Indeed, as the two come up to the building, they hear a worker’s sudden shout. “No no no! Tsep, how many times am I going to have to tell you? The helmet is not supposed to be that far forward on the forehead!”

“How many times have I told you that I’m not that skilled at transformation! I can’t change the shape of my forehead that much! Why can’t I switch roles with someling else?!” returns a drone’s voice

“There’s no time!” the worker shoots back. “Noling could learn your lines and the choreography of the battle scene in less than a day! You’re just go-!”

“Maybe you should’ve considered that before, on the very first day, when I told you I was having trouble transforming into this form you gave me!” Now having arrived at the door, the worker and cockatrice look at each other, each frowning with uncertainty about whether they should knock and interrupt, or not and wait.

“Well, I-!… Excuse me for having a little faith that you could learn!”

A ringing silence takes over, and just as Twisted lifts her foretarsus to knock, Tsep speaks again, his voice much more soft now. “I’m sorry, Forgery. I guess- No, I didn’t apply myself as much as I could have. I’m sorry my poor work will reflect badly on you.” A long sigh from Tsep follows his apology.

Forgery answers with her own sigh. “It’s alright, dear. I’m sure you’ve learned your lesson, and we’re not out of options yet!” Her last statement is declared with fierce determination. “It is a bit extreme, though. As a Changemaker, I must have the skill to work on another’s transformation inside their own magic. It is quite invasive, however, and-”

“I’ll do it!” Tsep cries out with relief and determination. “I mean: I’ll let you do it…” he corrects with a short, embarrassed buzz accompanying a similar chuckle.

This is too much for Twisted—excited by the idea of witnessing a Changemaker perform this rare and powerful spell, she cannot stop herself from forgoing knocking and simply opening the door to enter without invitation (although technically, as she’s doing work for the Queen, she is free to enter any place related to her task, it is still rude). When her mind catches up to her body, she’s quick to apologize, slipping into a corner, head lowered; Gaze slinks in after her, rolling his eyes behind his cloth. “Er, sorry! Just… go ahead. I can speak with whoever’s in charge after.”

“That would be me.” Forgery puts a tarsus to her chest in a proud pose for only a moment. “We can speak as soon as I finish helping Tsep with his transformation.” She says, gesturing to the drone beside her currently transformed into a pegasus and wearing a non-functional replication of what the pegasi had worn in battle millennia ago; on the other side of the room, a swarm of Changelings, some transformed into caricatures of various ponies, some not, stand or sit patiently with curious stares at the Buzzingtonians.

Twisted, not entirely trusting her voice, only nods eagerly for her to go ahead; Forgery raises a brow at Twisted’s excited grin, but easily and quickly shrugs it off and turns back to Tsep. Removing the drone’s helmet, she sets her horn on his forehead, just where the base of his horn would be if he hadn’t been transformed at the moment, and sets her horn alight, preparing her magic—even at this development, characteristic of all spellcasting, Twisted can’t keep an excited whine from escaping her throat.

Soon, Tsep exclaims, “Oh! Woah-!” but is careful not to move. Upon his second cry of surprise, a burst of green fire flashes over his body, not rising up from the floor, as is usual of Changeling transformation, but from the point where Forgery’s horn touches Tsep. Wow! That looked just like the book said it would, but seeing in the first-person? Wow! At first, nothing appears to have happened, but when Tsep replaces the helm on his head, his muzzle lights up with a smile. “Ah! It fits! Thank you! Thank you, Forgery! You’re amazing, truly!”

“It was nothing, really, but thank you.” She also begins to smile when he gives her a swift hug before stepping back into the mass of actors and actresses. “Alright, everyling! Break time!” She announces to the swarm, stepping aside for the rush for the only door; they are not left completely alone, however, as a few, including Tsep, choose to remain and socialize inside. Stepping up to the corner where Twisted and Gaze had retreated, she asks, “Care to tell me why our last-minute rehearsals are being interrupted?”

Twisted’s painful smile slides down slightly at the less-than-kindly phrased question, and she easily decides to open with a compliment. “That was an amazing spell! The execution was flawless! -and trust me, I should know, studying Spellworking under the Queen herself.” Similarly, she easily decides that throwing a little of her own weight around couldn’t hurt, if not lubricate this encounter.

“Oh? I wouldn’t say ‘flawless’, but thank you. Anyway… you study under the Queen, you say? Please forgive me if my skepticism is misplaced, but I was not aware of Queen Chrysalis having any students…” Forgery trails off, prompting Twisted for an explanation.

“I-” Out of the corner of her eye, Twisted notes Tsep glancing curiously out of the corner of his own, making her pause, but she easily shrugs it off. “I have proof right here.” Twisted opens her elytra and presents the letter to Forgery for her perusal. Only after the Changemaker’s quickly stifles her laughter does Twisted remember how personal the beginning of the letter is, but she calms her twitching wings with the idea that such close language could only cement the idea of her being close to Queen Chrysalis.

“I, ah… believe that settles that,” Forgery says, fighting a too-wide smile as she returns the letter. “So, you’re here to check up on the play?” These words certainly bring her down. “I’m sorry you had to see… such an embarrassing display just then. I assure you that, beyond that little problem, we are ready.” Now Forgery grins more unsteadily, wondering if she’ll be believed.

Tsep comes to the rescue. “Oh, yes! Terribly, terribly sorry about that. It… seems I made you look bad, anyway, Forgery…” He sighs resignedly, lowering his head and kicking morosely at the floor. “-but besides that, I do know my lines and choreography, along with everyling else!” He suddenly recalls, through his personal sorrows, why he had injected himself into the conversation to begin with.

“M-hm,” Twisted hums thoughtfully, with only the barest ting of doubtfulness in Tsep’s claim. “While I would prefer to see at least part of one scene to make sure, I’m in rather of a hurry.”

At this, Forgery’s face screws up with confusion. “-but there’s only one more item on that list,” She reminds, waving a tarsus toward Twisted’s elytra. “Besides the direction to make-”

“I know,” Twisted growls through her teeth, her interruption making Tsep glance around at everyling (even the drones and workers behind him), confused and hoping for some explanation. “There are other things I need to do, though. Such important things that the Queen wouldn’t dare put it down in a letter where someling else could read it,” she asserts without technically lying.

“Oh… Well, very well, then. I hope you have the time to come to our performance, though! The Queen’s visit has gotten everyling so excited, we’re doing ten times better than any year I’ve ever seen!” Forgery gushes excitedly, buzzing her wings, and Tsep buzzes along with her in agreement.

“I’ll… try,” Twisted answers not very convincingly, turning to leave, but before she can take one step, Forgery gasps in horror and shoot out a foreleg to stop her; her and Tsep’s wings freeze instantly.

“Oh, my! What happened here?!” Forgery whimpers sympathetically, pointing but not daring to touch the dents and scrapes in Twisted’s chitin.

“Oh. That.” Twisted grumbles. “While checking on the cave expansions, I was pounced on by a flying boulder being carried by-… What was her name again? All I’m coming up with is ‘R.D.’ for some reas-”

“Repeat Design?” Tsep offers.

“Yes, her.” Twisted nods in thanks, but is put off when the next thing she knows, Tsep and Forgery are rolling their eyes while the corners of their mouths twitch in a knowing way. Wishing to only forget this and go on her way already, Twisted opts not to ask and merely turns away yet again to head for the door.

“Wait!” Forgery’s foreleg shoots out again in turn. “I may not be able to fix that, but with my Changemaker’s skills, I can still help.” Hitting the right button in one go, Twisted perks up instantly, curious about how the spell feels when one is being transformed.

“Uh, sure!” Twisted tries to keep her composure, but if she can judge by Forgery’s smile, she’s at least not fooling her. “I just hold still, right?” She asks as Forgery steps into position, and the Changemaker nods before closing her eyes in concentration and touching her horn to the base of Twisted’s.

Soon, a completely foreign presence makes itself known, wrapping around her horn like a snake; as soon as it covers her horn completely, her sense of her own magic becomes strange, both muffled and enhanced at the same time, similar to hearing one’s own voice while one’s ears are covered. Unexpectedly, the presence squeezes, cause a bit of her magic to spray out, yet invisible, which Forgery takes hold of and uses to ignite Twisted’s transformation ability.

As soon as the presence leaves her horn, Twisted turns back to look at her injury, but jumps upon finding it completely covered by her elytra, which has been increased to a ridiculous size. “Ta-da!” Forgery presents dramatically. “I’ve heard that the elongated elytra fashion is making a comeback—you’ll be on the cutting edge! … Erm, at least after your new chitin blackens after you shed that injury.”

Trying to open her elytra, Twisted quickly finds out that their increased size comes with a similarly increased weight. Curtly, she thanks Forgery, “… Thank you,” before leaving as swiftly as her new elytra allows.

“Hope to see you soon!” Forgery calls from the door.

“Yeah! I, uhm… hope you give me a chance to prove myself!” Tsep calls after.

“Alright, everyling, let’s get back to work!” Forgery calls, and soon the rush back inside leaves Twisted and Gaze alone in the field.

Green fire lights up Twisted’s frame, restoring her elytra to normal so she can retrieve the letter underneath. “The Exodus: check.” She marks the page with a little magically created ink. Catching Gaze’s confused tilt of the head and his glance to her elytra, she cuts off his impending question. “Well, I didn’t want to just undo her hard work right in front of her! I may be a ‘bookhippo’, but I’m not a social paraplegic!”

Chuckling, Gaze points out, “Only you would call it ‘being a social paraplegic’, Twis,” to which Twisted merely rolls her eyes, slightly amused.

- - - -

“Well… this is not a little creepy,” Gaze murmurs, glancing back at the winding tunnel from which they had emerged. “I really thought that worker was playing some kind of weird and-slash-or mean trick when she told us to enter the cave leading to the Petualoose Mines and take the first right fork.” Facing forward again, he takes in the house that seems impossibly built, for it has absolutely no visible wax supporting the stone walls, but not only this is odd, for the construction does not appear to have even a proper roof.

“I told you there’s absolutely no reason to worry about the Petualoose Mines, so if anything, I’m sure the Ponytender will be the most rational and normal Changeling we’ve yet met in this crazy town.” Confidently, Twisted marches up to the-… “Erm… Where’s the door?” she asks herself as she makes her way around the hexagonal home, finding not even a single window.

“Uhm, there… is no door,” comes a worker’s voice so quiet that Twisted would have thought it the voice of her own mind if it hadn’t such an obviously different timbre and a hesitance that certainly doesn’t characterize herself. Taking a moment to calculate the direction of the voice, Twisted looks up to see a pair of Changeling eyes peeking over the edge of the wall; upon making eye contact, the other flinches, pulling back so that only her horn and the tiniest sliver of her eyes can be seen.

“Oooo-kay,” Twisted bites her lips from annoyance, and is careful not to look down at Gaze where he is surely giving her a “‘not crazy,’ huh?”-look (which, indeed, he is). “Why not?” she asks the obvious.

“To… discourage anyling from… talking to me,” The worker continues in an even more quiet, and now muffled, voice; Twisted silently thanks her Changeling antennae*(8) for being so sensitive—if she had been anything else (say, just for instance, a pony (probably a unicorn)), she likely would not have been able to hear the worker.

Sighing, the aggravation of the day starting to wear at the last of her patience, Twisted gets to business, wishing to simply get out and get to the library already. “Well, I’m sorry to bother you from…” she pauses, inviting the worker to fill in the blank, but she doesn’t, even after an entire minute of waiting. “… Well, whatever. I only need you to show me the ponies you’re tending, and your stores of love. We’ve been sent by the Queen to make sure everything is ready for the Carnival.”

“Oh… okay,” the worker barely whispers before creeping up and over the wall, opting to climb down the wall rather than fly. “Th-this way.” She points down yet another cave before heading off through it, but very slowly, crouched, and to the side, as if expecting Twisted (who obviously doesn’t know the way) to take the lead.

“So, what’s your name?” Gaze asks conversationally as he hops onto Twisted’s back, off of which he is instantly flipped by Twisted flicking open her elytra—she had told him countless times she’s no workpony and how it hurt to have him sit up there for even just a short amount of time, but the habit he had started in his chickhood remains (when he was light enough that he barely registered), though he no longer gets upset with Twisted for all the bruises he’s earned.

“Pho-… Photoshape,” the Ponytender whispers just as they arrive at the chamber inside of which she conducts her tending. The ceiling is high, but from long artificial stalactites hang about two dozen translucent green cocoons that almost touch the floor, inside of which are ponies, all suspended in permanently liquid Changeling wax (infused with the nutrients their bodies need) with their tail-ends up and in magically induced sleeps; the overall effect in the room is not too unlike that of an inverted forest.

Stepping up to the closest cocoon, which contains a unicorn mare of some description (the green of the wax prevents her colors from being distinguished easily), Twisted taps the plastic-like shell, sending ripples that causes the pony to begin to move ever so slowly—tumbling as if in slow motion into the opposite side of the cocoon, which bounces her back again; She doesn’t even twitch, and the wide smile on her muzzle doesn’t slip in the slightest. Tapping harder, then even harder again produces the same results: nothing. “Your sleep-inducing spell seems to be very stable…” Twisted comments as she does the same to a random selection of other cocoons. “Now, let’s see your dream spells.”

Touching the first cocoon she had tapped with the rounded front of her horn, Twisted slips easily into the very first spell Changelings learn: dream feeding. With only a blink, Twisted finds herself standing at the bottom of a grassy slope; even though she can rationalize it’s not real, Twisted still sticks her tongue out in disgust at the sensation of the rippling grass tickling her legs. The surface… Why do ponies like the surface world so much? What could they possibly see in it?

Looking up at the top of the hill, Twisted notes the topic of this dream. A romantic picnic: standard, easy… boring, though I probably shouldn’t count that against her, since I’m sure her workload has been multiplied many times over to make sure there’s enough to love to go around during the Carnival.

Deciding to take a little snack, Twisted climbs the hill, imposing her will on the dream, an ability courtesy of her Changeling powers, so that her swift replacement of the Earth pony mare will appear seamless to the unicorn dreamer. Nothing of note happens, and after about three minutes, Twisted deactivates her dream feeding spell.

Immediately after Twisted pulls her horn away, her previous thoughts on Photoshape’s work is confirmed by the Ponytender herself. “I’m sorry if the dream isn’t very good. I usually have a lot of time to give each pony and make their dreams extra special.” Here she pauses and smiles in a way Twisted had never seen before on a Ponytender’s face when talking about their work, so it takes some time for her to recognize it for what it is: motherly. “-but last week the number of ponies I have to tend nearly tripled, so I don’t get to spend as much time on dream design as I’d like… Sorry.” Photoshape lowers her head further, nearly touching the ground with her chin and not daring to look into Twisted’s eyes.

“It’s fine,” Twisted assures in a monotone—official-sounding; it doesn’t comfort Photoshape. “Really. I’m sure noling is going to notice, especially since they’ll all be busy having fun with actual Carnival activities.” Still Photoshape does not move from her submissive position, but she does whimper. That’s something, at least… “Just… show me your stores, and then we’ll be done here, and you can get back to… dream designing or whatever.”

“O-…-kay.” Photoshape raises herself up to her previous, neck-forming-a-line-with-her-back posture so that she’ll be able to walk, then leads them towards an alcove in the opposite side of the cavern. After an immediate, tight turn to the left and another turn to the right, they come into a room about the size and shape of a walk-in closet, with the walls almost completely hidden by stacks of barrels.

Freezing at the entrance upon seeing this, Twisted’s jaw hangs slack as Photoshape crawls a few paces into the room before realizing the other had stopped. Her turning back around and tilting her head curiously kickstarts Twisted’s brain. “Are all of these full of… concentrated love?” she asks dubiously, tapping one of the barrels closest to her, producing a low, liquid dthummm.

“Oh? Yes. At least I think so. I mean, I think they should be.” Wondering, she in turn taps a few of barrels in the back of the room, and all produce the very same sound, causing Twisted to lose control of her facial muscles once again.

That- This is- “And all of this,” she gestures to the barrels around them, “came from less than a third of the ponies that we just saw out there?” she asks, now gesturing behind herself towards the room containing the cocooned ponies.

“Not… all of it. A little came from the new ponies, since I had to change out their wax yesterday.” Photoshape nods at this, but Twisted is shaking her head.

“Wait. Wait wait wait. Are you sure? I’ve read that ponies need their wax changed, on average, only once a month, and you’ve only had those ponies for a week!”

“Oh, yes, that was in my training, but it’s the levels of love in the wax that determines when a pony’s wax needs to be collected and changed, and all the ponies I’ve taken care of usually need it about every nine days…” turning to look at the ground, she trails off and kicks at a pebble. “It was very puzzling at first, but I’ve just accepted it and decided that I must just be very unlucky, because-…” Her last few words become constricted by a quickly tightening throat, and Twisted takes a step back in shock upon seeing a few tears splash onto the rock from her hidden face, which she suddenly reveals, looking up and cry, “-because I’m not that bad of a Ponytender, am I, Miss Hiveinspector?”

“Wha-?!” I can’t handle this right now! Biting her lip as if such could help her think more quickly, Twisted settles on the first idea that ignored Photoshape’s distress. “You have it all wrong: I’m not a Hiveinspector! I just… I’m a Spellworker that the Queen has sent to make sure that everything is going to be ready for the Carnival! Really, this is no inspection, just a… uhm… inventory check!” Twisted declares with sudden inspiration, “-and this is definitely enough!” Watching with a nervous smile as Photoshape’s tears begin to dry and her breathing returns to normal, Twisted eventually announces. “Well… I have other things I need to get to, so… I believe we’re done here. Gaze?”

Slipping his wing under Twisted’s right elytrum, making her shiver from the invasive sensation, he pulls out the scroll and marks the last checkbox. “Love stores: check.” Gaze looks up from the paper at Photoshape uncertainly as Twisted makes a quick leave, wondering if he might do anything. She had gone pretty bad for a minute there, but now… A quick hug before jogging after Twisted couldn’t hurt.

It certainly doesn’t.

- - - -

“Finally! The library.” Twisted lets out a great huff as if she had been running miles to reach this place. “Now we can get to our real mission.”

“-but Twis, your real mission is to make friends…” Gaze tries to insist, but his tone gives away his defeat.

“Gaze, how many times do I have to tell you? Poor Queen Chrysalis is obviously suffering from stress; she doesn’t know what’s best!” She fights back, herself just as strongly convicted as the first time Gaze had tried to get her to follow that final order. “Right now, I am not here to make friends!” She says as she pushes the door open into a pitch black room. “What happened to the li-”

Suddenly the wax bulbs light up, revealing a room so packed with Changelings, many are forced to stand on the walls and ceiling. “Surprise!” They cry simultaneously, making Twisted jump back, narrowly missing slamming Gaze with her buttocks.

“Gwah?!” She cries in response. As she stands, processing, Gaze squeezes past her and grins at the assembly, all too happy that, just as he had lost hope, someling arranged this so Twisted would be all but forced to befriend at least one Changeling before the end of the day.

Before Twisted can recover, a worker extracts herself from the throng and zooms up, asking excitedly, “What was that you were just saying about making friends? Wait! Let me guess!” She pulls back, sitting down and pushing her forelegs out as if to physically stop something from passing her by, then she looks down at the floor, striking an exaggerated “Thinker” pose for a moment. Just as Twisted considers interrupting, the worker springs back onto all fours. “It must have been something like, ‘I’m new to Fangville so I don’t know anyling here! I wish there was an easier way to make friends,’ right? Right? Am I right?” She asks, bouncing, before answering herself with a cheerful, dismissive wave. “Of course I’m right, and that’s why I’m here!”

Before Twisted can figure out how to respond to this, Gaze raises his wing in a pose of epiphany. “Hey, you’re that first worker we met just after we had arrived in Fangville!” Twisted frowns slightly at Gaze’s words—she would hardly call what had happened as “meeting” this worker. “The one that gasped and flew off when Twisted tried to introduce herself!” Gaze goes on, snickering.

“Yeppie-deppie!” The worker unnecessarily confirms, continuing her bouncing for a moment before turning serious on a dime. “I saw you two arriving, and since I know everyling in Fangville, I knew you two were new to Fangville, since I don’t know you and I know everyling in Fangville! Then when you tried talking to me, I realized that since you were new, you must not have any friends in Fangville, so I decided to throw this party to make it easier for you make friends so you would stopping being lonely faster!” With that said, the worker returns to her cheerful demeanor, bouncing idly.

Once again needing to pause to sort through the rapidfire thoughts, Twisted eventually asks, “How… did you know we were staying at the library?”

“I asked those drones that took you here in that carriage! That’s why I had to fly off: to catch them!”

“Huh…” is all Twisted has to say about this; for some reason she had had the impression that the answer should have been more incomprehensible. “Why didn’t you just ask me instead of leaving me in the dust like that?”

“Easy-peasy, silly: because then this party wouldn’t have been a surprise party!” The worker answers, throwing out her forelegs to indicate the party at large. “Oo! Silly me, how could I have forgotten! My name’s Picture Perfect, and I welcome every new-ling to Fangville!”

“Wait.” Twisted hold up a leg, and Picture freezes mid bounce at the “order”. There’s only one job I can think of… “Swar-… Miss Swarmincorporator?!” As Picture thaws to nod and continue on, Twisted freezes in turn. There’s no way Chrysalis knows about this. The most insane of all Changelings in Fangville holding such an important position is just-… I don’t want to think about it! “Well… erk… Thank you, Swarmincorporator, but I’m not staying.”

“You can just call me Piccy! Everyling does, even though I’m not picky, but they’re not calling me ‘picky’, they’re calling me ‘Piccy’! Oh! Anyway, are you sure you’re not staying?” Piccy stops bouncing to stare as closely into Twisted’s eyes as possible without their noses touching.

Trying to pull back, but only finding the crazy worker following her, Twisted answers, “What… do you mean? I’m only here for the Carnival.”

Sitting back into the “Thinker” pose, Piccy asks herself, “What do I mean? Ummmm… I’m not sure!” Piccy answers, unconcerned; Twisted slaps a foretarsus to her forehead in frustration. Piccy then whips out a tray from behind her back. On it is an arrangement of mushroom-like things that Twisted assumes are some kind of pony food. “Here! Try one of these!”

Twisted sniffs the closest one before asking, “What are… ‘these’, and why do you have them? -and why should I… try one?” Twisted sticks out her tongue, faintly disgusted. “I’m not a pony.” She easily drops the “why throw me a party” line of questioning.

“They’re called ‘cupcakes’! I found ’em in a pony book called a ‘cookbook’. It took a long time to figure out what ‘baking’ and ‘wheat’ and some other things are, then to figure out what a ‘stove’ is, then to get a stove, then to finally learn how to work it, but everything would have been worth it even for only one cupcake! Try one!” she insists, pushing the tray closer to Twisted. “These ones are made with some love-infused wax I got from Photo, and some grain P.H. grew for me!”

Scrutinizing the “cupcakes”, Twisted watches with interest as one is taken in someling’s magic and levitated up to the ceiling, where a worker with crossed eyes munches happily, not minding the crumbs she’s dropping on everyling below her—not that such actually matters, as the crumbs easily slide off of their chitin, as it wouldn’t have if they were, for example, ponies, and had manes and fur. Shrugging, Twisted takes one and bites into it.

Then, the world goes white, and her hearing all but disappears, leaving only the sound of her heart’s beating. Slowly, everything comes back into focus, first a widely grinning Piccy, then a worried Gaze waving his wing, trying to get Twisted’s attention, then the rest of the room. “This… is-… This is-” impossible to describe! Noting Piccy eagerly awaiting an answer, Twisted opts to simply devour the rest of the cupcake. That should suffice!

Indeed, it seems to, as the Swarmincorporator cheers, jumping into the air and throwing her foretarsi out wildly, which prompts the entire swarm—even those further in the room, not knowing what had happened—to cheer in a wave. Well, she definitely is accepted by everyling as Fangville’s Swarmincorporator. Twisted mentally shrugs off her earlier conviction to report this potential issue to Queen Chrysalis. After all, how long has Fangville been here with Swarmincorporator Picture Perfect without complaint from the swarm itself? “Thank you for that, uhm, cupcake, Swarmincorp- I mean, Piccy, but I really have to- What are you doing?” Twisted interrupts herself to ask with more than a little concern upon noticing Piccy pouring what appears to be some kind of brownish-red sap out of a bottle labeled with a flame onto one of the cupcakes—the flame looking like some kind of warning of danger.

Completely unconcernedly (causing Twisted to yelp with alarm), Piccy stuffs the entire cupcake into her mouth, only responding after swallowing. “It’s called ‘hot sause’; ponies use it to make things spicy! Wan’na try one?” she asks, dousing another cupcake and proffering it on the flat of a foretarsus.

“Spicy? You mean… like… salt?” Twisted asks as she scrutinizes this new confection, referring to the only pony food “spice” that she knows of; a cursory sniff would have revealed this is very much not “like salt” at all, if Twisted had known what salt smells like. Still, a strange whisper in the back of her mind tells her to pull away, which she does while shaking her head. “Maybe another time… Piccy, but right now I want everyling out of here; I still have work to do, and I want to get at least some sleep in case-! Erk!” I can’t just say it! “Uh… -in case something unexpected… happens.”

“Aw…” Piccy lowers her head and her antennae*(8) droop. “-but everyling is already here, not just to welcome you, but for the pre-Carnival party, too!” Piccy informs, referring to the tradition of staying up on the night before the Change Carnival, though usually by throwing small, family-only parties.

“The… pre-Carnval party? Is it that late?!” Twisted flies up and whips her head around frantically, but through the swarm, she can’t see even any evidence of any clock.

“Depends on what you mean by ‘late’!” answers a drone standing on the ceiling with the cross-eyed worker, “The Sun was set one hour, three minutes, forty-nine seconds ago!”

“Wha-?! Oh…” Twisted sighs as she hovers back down to the floor before Piccy, still in that same hunched down, ashamed position. “Alright… I guess you can stay-”

“HOORAY!” Piccy instantly perks up, once again prompting the entire room to cheer with her.

“-but… I am going to get some sleep, so I want quiet, okay?” Twisted clicks her elytra to indicate she won’t take no as an answer.

“Okay,” Piccy whispers so softly Twisted only barely can hear it over the general din of the party. “Everyling!” she sudden calls out, achieving quiet attention instantly, “Twisted Spare wants to sleep, so everyling party quietly! Okay! That’s all!” The swarm returns to its merry-making, but with much less noise.

Wow… Twisted can’t help but be a little impressed, but a few minutes later she finds she can’t help but toss and turn in her bed. Despite the lessened decibels, the occasional laughs and thumps interrupt her attempts to fall asleep, and in between times, thoughts of Queen Husk’s return keep her from getting comfortable again easily.

Eventually, the sound of approaching steps, marked unique and familiar by claws, pulls Twisted out of what she knows is her last attempt at falling asleep. Sure enough, a wing is placed against her back and gently rocks her. “Twis… Twis, wake up, Queen Chrysalis is getting ready to announce the beginning of the Carnival!”

- - - -

Congregating before the town hall, the enlarged swarm of Fangville shuffles in wait on the ground, on the ceiling, and hovering. Then, the fanfare which prompts the last round of cheers of the day as Queen Chrysalis steps grandly, slowly from behind a curtain.

Waving for quiet, she only speaks when the last elytra is stilled. “Swarm of Fangville! I am-” Suddenly stumbling back, she brings a tarsus up to her thorax, swallowing before trying to continue, her voice much less powerful. “I… am-”

As most begin to murmur in confused worry, splitting apart to let a few of the Proxy family, including Proxyhack, to rush forward to aid their Queen, Twisted brings a tarsus up to her mouth, capable of doing nothing more than whisper a horrified, “Oh, no,” to herself. “Wait.” Her eyes widen as she takes in what’s happening. “Wait! Proxyhack, stop! Everyling get away!” For not even a second does the swarm turn to look at her with even more confusion than before, for in the next second, a chuckle can be heard coming from Queen Chrysalis.

“I… am… YOUR NEW QUEEN!” Chrysalis- rather, Chrysalis’s body, stands straight and firm again. A heart-shaped ring of green fire lights up on her thorax, prompting everyling to back up, gasping in shock as a black something begins to emerge from inside the heart. A sudden column of green fire engulfing Chrysalis’s entire body prompts them to back up even further, but still none yet flee.

When the fire dies, it leaves in its place a Queen, but a Queen that is not Chrysalis. Her fins have gone from long, straight, and seaweed-blue to shorter, wavy, and autumn-yellow. Her eyes and elytra are no longer green-to-blue, but brown-to-orange. These eyes lidded, she looks over the congregation as they stare back, tensed. “What?” She stomps, causing a deep, powerful rumble through the cave housing Fangville. “Do you not know who I am? Has my dear, loving sister stricken me from history!? Does noling know me?!”

Shivering, Twisted forces herself forward. “I do!” The swarm turns to her, creating a path to the stage on which Husk stands; Twisted is only able to make herself speak again once she stands between the Queen and the swarm. “I know who you are… Queen Husk!”

At the name, all muttering stops, then, without warning, everyling begins to scream, scrambling for some kind of safety from this mad Queen they had, just minutes ago, believed only to exist in fairytales. At this, Queen Husk throws her head back, laughing.

“You can hide, my soon-to-be hive! You can flee to the ends of Earth, but I will find you, and you all will help me destroy the Goddesses, whether you do so of your own accord or not!”

Author's Notes:

* Some credit for this mythology goes to TheRedBrony and notMurphy for a discussion on headcanon we had that helped me make this backstory much better than it would have been.

** As a parallel to “mares” and “stallions”, Changelings call themselves “workers” and “drones” based on sex. Though this has roots in the classification of eusocial insects, when referring to Changelings these words designate sex and only sex—that means “not implying or referring to reproductive ability or role, nor position or function in the hive”. The use of “-ling” is also a parallel to “-pony”, and can (just like the latter) refer to non-Changelings.

*** As research has proven unsuccessful in finding a more technical, specific term for “insect wing”, I decided to take the initiative, using an order of insects, hymenoptera, literally meaning “membrane wings”, and turning it into a term for such wings. One might note the similarity to the term “helicopter blades”, which also ends with “-pter” by no coincidence.

*(4) Changelings tell each other apart by the distinct set of holes each has in their legs (just as in “Love Mine” and “For Mother”).

*(5) “Under one’s wings” is the Changeling analogue to “on one’s shoulders/back”, originating from a method Changelings use to carry messages: under their elytra (a term referring to the hardened forewings of beetles and similar insects, but here refer to Changeling hard hindwings). Transforming into a pony, even a pegasus, while doing this effectively traps the paper inside the Changeling’s body with no means of detection or removal. Similarly reasoned, “under wing” is an analogue to “in hand/hoof”.

*(6) After the Fires of Friendship

*(7) The tarsus (pl. tarsi) is the final segment of an Arthropoda leg, and here refers to the end of a Changeling leg the same way “hoof” refers to the end of a pony leg. Note that, similar to “worker” and “drone”, these words have been amended for Changeling use, and do not actually mean anything about the form of a Changeling leg, which is, indeed, much like a pony leg.

*(8) Once again, simply a borrowing that refers to Changeling ears, which function like ears, but are shaped like—and referred to as—antennae.

Trivia:

The Petualoose Mines were named parallel to the Everfree Forest: “forever” plus “free” into “perpetual” plus “loose”.

Originally, Tsep was just a placeholder name, but I became too fond of it.

The term “bookhippo” is used because I didn’t really think Changelings would use a term that refers to an invertebrate and is used mostly to insult, but would go the opposite route. Bonus that “Hippopotamus” contains the Greek root for “horse”, even though the hippo is not Equus or even Equidae (though I suppose in the Equestria Universe it is possible that they are related based on this name alone, because… it’s Equestria, otherwise known by the Greek as “Hippostria”).

The cover is to convey the parallelism of the story only; it is not mean to be an accurate depiction of Twisted & co. They look exactly like all the other Changelings looked like during the attack on Canterlot.

Episode 2: Elements of Unity

Amidst the chaos of the fleeing citizenry, those few Soldiers that Queen Chrysalis had selected to accompany her more for ceremonial appearances than actual protection valiantly push themselves forward to confront the possessor of their queen. However, upon finding themselves between Queen Husk and the panicking mob, they glance uncertainly at each other, all asking the same question with their expressions: How can we save and protect Queen Chrysalis with her body possessed? One second later this does not matter; ropes of green fire emerge from Queen Husk’s horn, and before the Soldiers can light up their own horns to bring forth any kind of defense, the fire binds them, wrapping them into flaming cocoons.

Stomping forward, Queen Husk narrows her eyes as she searches the raucous crowds, but just as she had already suspected, the worker that had stepped forward and so foolishly revealed herself as the only one who knows who Husk is and why she’s here has already disappeared. It matters not; she is only one. That so little is known of me is still some relief enough—that worker might not even know about the Elements! It should not be too difficult to secure them, then, but just in case… Turning nonchalantly away from those few frozen in fear that had been left by those fleeing, Queen Husk turns back to the cocooned just as the fires die away, revealing the Changelings with their new orange eyes and elytra.

- - - -

Flying full tilt towards the library, slowly separating herself from the Changelings intent on hiding or gathering cherished possessions to continue fleeing elsewhere, Twisted Spare silently curses herself as Gaze beats his wings madly, struggling to keep up. I could have handled that a lot better by not being so stupidly dramatic and just keeping my tongue still, because now Queen Husk knows I’m the only Changeling here that knows who she is, and if she knows what happened to the Elements of Unity-! The Elements of Unity… I need to get them before her!

Shooting through the door of the library and screeching to a halt, Twisted looks around frantically, now cursing herself for not familiarizing herself with the layout of this library. “Great! This is just great!” She screams to herself as a gasping Gaze stumbles in. “I don’t even know where to begin researching where the Elements of Unity might be. I don’t even know if that information on the Elements of Unity is in this library!” Shivering as she tries to fight back her panic, Twisted sits back so she can press both foretarsi against her forehead.

“Elements of Unity, huh? What are those?” Repeat Design buzzes her forewings in warning after landing. “-and how did you know that was Queen Husk? How did you know she was real? Are you working for her? Are you a spy?!” She nearly growls as she stomps forward, creating a web of hair-thin cracks on the stone floor.

Calmly stepping beside her, Proxyhack shoves the musclebound worker back with a single foreleg, even as the Cavekeeper lets out an aggressive snort. “Uh, you really think that makes sense, there, partner? A Changeling spying on Changelings? In case ya’ve failed to notice, Twisted here has the same shell and eyes as you an’ me.” As she’s explaining this and successfully getting Repeat to at least settle her wings, three more workers enter the library: those Twisted Spare had met as she had checked on the Carnival’s preparations. “Now, ya obviously know more about this than anyling, but what do ya know?” PH turns calmly—almost amicably, considering the situation—back to Twisted.

Maybe talking through it might help me regather my thoughts, Twisted quickly decides. “I read about her prophesized return, but what’s important right now are the Elements of Unity! They’re the only weapon guaranteed to defeat Queen Husk, since it was Queen Chrysalis who used them against her before, but I don’t know where they are, I don’t know how to find them… I don’t even know how to use them!” Turning away, Twisted begins pacing, stomping occasionally in agitation.

Piccy soon stops that, however, by suddenly somehow simply appearing in front of her without a teleportation spell. “Why not start here?” she asks, shoving a book against Twisted muzzle—too close for her to read its title. Piccy pulls it back and turns it around to read it for her. “The Elements of Unity: A Reference Guide.”

Pulling the book out of Piccy’s grip, she stares at the familiar cover for a moment. “That right! I meant to study this book last night! While I was doing my research on Queen Husk’s return, I didn’t bother with studying the Elements, since then I thought Queen Chrysalis would take care of it!” In that instant, her excitement dies down—a dangerous sign, so Gaze worried, as he had never seen her lose enthusiasm over reading before. “-but now… she can’t…” Her voice wavers, then suddenly catches when a presence leans against her: Photoshape, a silent support. Twisted tries to give her a tiny smile of thanks, but it does not come, then trying to offer an apology with her eyes, she awkwardly turns back to the book.

“‘Chap- Chapter One: Introduction to the Elements’…” she reads off the table of contents, then flips to the appropriate page as the rest settle before her in a semi-circle; she quickly zeros in on the third paragraph. “The Elements of Unity are composed of six Elements, though only five are known—Trust, Devotion, Joy, Compassion, and Forgiveness—as the sixth has slipped even from the Queen’s memory. The resting place of the now-useless Elements is the very same as the city Queen Chrysalis confronted Husk, which is now known as-…” Her eyes widen, then narrow, then she quickly shuts the book upon noticing Photoshape leaning in to read, causing the other Changeling to jump from surprise, then blink, silently asking for an explanation.

“Well?” Repeat Design prompts impatiently.

“Where are they? Do you know how to get there?” Forgery asks more directly.

“… Yes… and yes,” Twisted eventually answers simply as she slips the book under her elytra, which is pushed up slightly from it’s natural relaxed position, but this is no less comfortable than it would be for a pony to carry the same book in a set of saddlebags.

“-and?!” Repeat steps forward, flaring her elytra for a second, insistent.

“It doesn’t concern you.” Twisted turns away, taking Gaze into her magic and pulling him into the bedroom, ignoring his cry of surprise. Repeat zooms in after her before Twisted can close the door while the other four look between themselves uncertainly, but they don’t leave the library.

“Well, I dun’no about all’a ya all, but Twisted is just one Changelin’, and the only one with a real plan, so I’m with-”

“Say no more, PH. I agree, but…” Forgery turns away and shifts her forewings. “Does it not worry you that she will not tell us of the Elements’ last location? I’m not saying the intent is not noble, but if the offer is, indeed, futile…”

PH snorts and stands taller, determined. “So what if it is? Ain’t no harm in offerin’.”

“I agree…” Photoshape suddenly cuts in, leaving Forgery’s mouth hanging open at such a declaration coming from her of all Changelings; of course, this has the result of Photoshape drawing into herself with a little buzz of shock at her own daring, but the determination to speak her side is stronger. “I mean… Twisted Spare is scary, but Queen Husk is even more-” Photoshape gulps. “Thinking about just letting Queen Husk do what… she wants-… I can’t stand it!”

Her cry of such surety is only about as loud as any other Changeling’s normal speaking voice, but it has PH rearing up. “Yee-hah! That’s the spirit! I knew you had it in ya!”

“Yeah!” Piccy jumps forwards, pulling the Medkeeper and Ponytender into a hug. “Friends to the end! We fight for each other!” Piccy finishes by pulling back to wave a foreleg invitingly at Forgery.

Half sighing, half huffing, Forgery steps forward to allow herself to be pulled in. “As if I could disagree! Still, I must admit I am more scared of fighting such a war than I am of fighting… the queen who wishes to instigate it.”

“Ain’t no shame in that; I am, too.” PH winks, to which Forgery gives a small nod of thanks.

- - - -

As this is going on, Twisted Spare pulls Gaze and deposits him in his bed. “Gaze, I need you to stay here while-” Twisted tries to calmly explain, but, as she had half (more than half, truthfully) expected, he instantly bursts into argument.

“Twis-?!”

“Gaze… I-”

“No! Twis, no! I can’t just-”

“I need you to stay here! Queen Husk isn’t going to care about a cockatrice as long as she doesn’t know we-… we’re prac- we’re family.” At the same time, the two jump together into a hug, Twisted knowing this could very well be the last contact she has with him “I want you to promise me, alright? You’ll be safe here, and… if I succeed, of course I’ll come back, but if not-… If I’m not back in twenty-four hours, then… I want you to promise me you’ll leave.”

“Twis… no… don’t…-” He tries to fight, but even he knows it’s over.

“You’re growing into a good, strong rooster, Gaze. You’ll be fine. I’ll be fine, too! I know where to go, and I know what to do, and if I figured it out, that means someling else can, too… if I fail.” Twisted shakes her head. “-but that’s not going to happen! This is… ‘just in case’. There’s absolutely no reason to think I could fail!” It’s such a transparent lie—as a Changeling that had never left Melipoland, nor trained to do so, Twisted had never once lied before this moment, but therein lies the meaning: Even Repeat forgets her anger for a moment in witnessing a Changeling lie to her own kind (at least to one whom she considers as her own kind).

“O-…-kay.” Gaze slumps before moving in for a tighter hug; he would have liked longer, but he knows every second he keeps her is a second they’re giving to Queen Husk to pull ahead in her plans. Instead, he sighs as he pulls away, turning to a wallclock to note the time. Twenty-four hours…

Twisted turns around, only to jump back when a hoof is thrust into her face—Repeat Design’s. “Hold it! I am not-”

“Follow me,” Twisted interrupts calmly, pushing the hoof down with her own.

Thrown off her attack plan, Repeat steps back in turn. “Uh… huh?” is the only halfway coherent sound she’s capable of making.

Twisted sighs and begins to step around the Cavekeeper. “If you want to help, follow me.”

The sound of the door opening triggers something, helping Repeat snap back to reality; she whips around to ask, “-but where is-?”

“That’s where I’ll be taking you—and the others, if they want to help, too, I suppose—and when we get there, I’ll ask you again.”

“Tshk!” Repeat rolls her eyes as she follows the grim-face Twisted out of the bedroom. “Why would I want to change my mind?”

- - - -

The six workers occasionally shiver as they step silently trough the now deserted—apparently deserted—town, whipping their heads around to stare intently whenever they believe they see something move at the edge of their sight, and considering more than once they all simultaneously look at the same spot, their fears do not at least seem entirely unfounded.

As they finally reach the end of Fangville and begin to leave it behind as so many others had (hopefully not while under Queen Husk’s control), Photoshape breaks the silence just as they feel the atmosphere of a ghost town lift from around them. “Uhm, Twisted Spare? Why are we going to my house? If you don’t mind explaining that…” Photoshape affixes, considering that Twisted had continually denied to tell them their destination.

Twisted shakes her head, then braces herself before answering, “We’re not going to your house.” Just as she anticipated, all five sets of tarsi behind her suddenly stop; turning slightly, she watches the horror grow on each Changeling’s face.

Finally, Forgery speaks what Twisted knows is on each of their minds. “-but the only other- We’re not going into-… into-…”

“The Petualoose Mines!?” All five wail in such perfect unison that Twisted’s first thought is that the phenomenon might have something to do with the locals’ belief of the curse. It might even be some kind of Fangville “tradition” to refer to the Mines in that way to entrench the mysterious and threatening atmosphere the place is suppose to- Twisted shakes her head rapidly to dislodge the mental rambling, which the others see and unfortunately misinterpret, if their collective sigh of relief is anything to go by.

“Yes, we are,” Twisted affirms before their denial can go too deep. “-or at least I am, since I wouldn’t be too surprised if all you decide to leave now.” Despite her words and despite earlier telling herself that she wanted to—should!—do this alone, she still pulls her legs the slightest bit into herself, hoping differently than before.

Piccy seems not to have heard, going from shocked and frightened to carefree and… bouncy. “What are we waiting for? Let’s go!” She finishes with an innocent kind of giggle that lifts the gloom straight out of the atmosphere, then bounds forward, leading the way past a stunned Twisted.

Can a Swarmincorporator really have that powerful an influence? To completely redirect-… redirect-… “Huh? Wha-? Wait!” Twisted, regaining herself, gallops after the five that had gone ahead. Before she can reorganize her thoughts and phrase a proper question, Proxyhack speaks up.

“Yeh c’n save your breath. Yes, we’re coming. Yes, we know it’s dangerous. No, we don’t care.” Buzzing into a hover and pulling back alongside Twisted, she lays a foreleg across her back. “We might not be as, eh, ‘qualified’, but we’re stickin’ to you like gumbark!” She asserts confidently, pumping her other foreleg in anticipation of victory (and bringing her wings to a light buzz to keep her balance).

“Especially if there’s gumbark in there!” Piccy calls out cheerily, bouncing up to Twisted’s other side, making her doubletake, for Twisted is, or had been, certain that the Swarmincorporator had been ahead of them just a second ago. “What? That stuff is good,” Piccy says, misinterpreting the meaning behind Twisted’s expression.

She’s the Swarmincorporator. She’s the Swarmincorporator. She’s the Swarmincorporator. Twisted tells herself as the other five allow her to pass them so that she’s at the front once again when they pass by the tunnel leading to Photoshape’s place; entering the cave devoid of light-enchanted wax, the six light up their horns, giving off soft, pulsing green lights. She can’t be as bad as… whatever she seems to be… Casting for a change of subject, she asks the first question that comes to mind. “So, have any of you been in the Petualoose Mines before?”

Forgery lets out a disgusted snort and clicks her elytra in displeasure. “Why, of course not! This place is absolutely horrid. Worse than the surface, even, somelings say!”

“I hear it just ain’t like the rest of Melipoland,” PH adds, “Things happen that can’t be explained!”

“‘Things that can’t be explained’? How is that possible? What kind of phenomena are you talking about? Do you have an example?” Twisted Spare rapid-fires questions.

“Of course not…” Repeat Design wavers her voice for faux-spooky effect as she crouches and creeps along with wide, silent steps. “-and do you know why?”

Twisted’s genuine curiosity is shot down by noticing out of the corner of her eye the bored, almost disapproving expression with which PH is regarding the Cavekeeper. “Repeat, do you really expect Twisted of all-lings to-”

“-because everyling that has gone in… has never come out!” She suddenly jumps forward in a pounce that purposefully misses, but Twisted turns away and shares a roll of the eyes with PH, making Repeat huff at her failed scare attempt.

That doesn’t even make sense! How would anyling know the Mines were cursed if noling has ever returned? Backwards-thinking villagers!… Maybe I should have insisted they stay behind after all? No, too late for that, and I don’t want to waste time arguing! Just have to hope they don’t slow me down, or- “Does anyling else smell that?” Twisted asks, lifting her head high and sniffing deeply—the scent had only been a hint before, but this inundates with such pleasantness, that she momentarily forgets herself, and she only comes back to herself at the tailend of a sigh.

The others follow her example, PH coming out of euphoria quickest. “Love?” she questions not what it is, but why this scent would be here. “Did you leave a barrel open or somthin’, Photo?”

The Ponytender instantly looses the smile the smell had given her, now frowning sadly at the ground at the perceived accusation; Twisted is the one to speak for her. “That doesn’t make any sense.” She shakes her head. “If it was Photoshape’s, why would we only be smelling it now? Unless… it was stolen, and the only Changeling I can think of who would do something like this is-!”

“Queen Husk!” Repeat Design jumps up, revving her wings to shoot down the cave.

“Wait!” Twisted orders, using her magic to knock the overeager-ling from ruining their chance at catching the evil queen by surprise. “We can’t just rush at her! We need a plan! We need the Elements, before we do anything else! -but… if we can spy on her-… figure out what she’s doing with that love before we-… Wait here.” She turns and holds out her foreleg, emphasizing the order.

As soon as she disappears around a corner, Repeat speaks up. “She doesn’t really expect us to just sit here and wait, does she?” Noling needs to answer, and Repeat doesn’t wait for one before leading the way after Twisted Spare.

Ahead of them, Twisted, expecting to run into Queen Husk at any turn, has dimmed her hornlight to the point where she can only see the outlines of the walls about a meter around herself. Following her nose at a fork of two caves, the smell of whatever love had been stolen begins to overwhelm her to the point she has to focus on keeping her shaking hooves—eager to rush ahead—from making too much noise against the stone floor of the cave. Some meters behind her, the other five follow suit, not wanting to alert Queen Husk to their presence; judging by the thickening scent, she must be very close by.

Indeed, it’s not long before Twisted comes upon an area where the floor begins to slope gently downwards and the walls fly away into the darkness of a chamber of unknown proportions, yet the ceiling sudden drops so that Twisted’s horn barely misses scraping the rock above her; she estimates that Queen Chrysalis—and therefore Queen Husk—would be forced to crawl along on their belly. With one gulp to steel herself, Twisted lets the light from horn go out, sure that she’ll find some hint of activity from Queen Husk very soon.

There! A flash of green light at the bottom of the slope, distorted as if being reflected off some curved surface. There must be another cave leading off this chamber! Now that she is so close to the source, she can’t stop herself from lifting her nose high and taking a deep, appreciating sniff, at which point she pauses once more. Something is… wrong about that love. Is Queen Husk doing something to it? The legends say she feeds off of hatred, so the love she stole-… Is she trying to turn it into hate?! Can she do that?! Of course Twisted, as Queen Chrysalis’s personal student, knows more than most about spells that a very few special Changelings—Lovebreeders—use which can, with time and care, intensify even the tiniest amount of friendliness into an intense romantic attraction. For the reverse? To take the tiniest seed of animosity and cultivate it into murderous loathing?

… Not entirely outside the realm of possibility…

Shivering at the idea that Queen Husk might somehow turn her against Queen Chrysalis by exploiting some weakness in her devotion to her leader and teacher, she steps forward into absolute darkness, forgetting the slope, and consequently stumbling into the beginnings of a fall. She tries to steady herself by jumping into the air and bringing her forewings to life, but she only slams herself against the low ceiling, sending her back onto the slope, down which she begins to roll with a yelp of shock. Every attempt at stopping herself fails: She has no way to grab onto anything with her tarsi at the speed she’s tumbling (somewhat instinctively, she realizes the slope is becoming steeper), her wings are constantly pushed back against her side when she tries to open them, and she can’t concentrate enough to bring her magic to her own aid.

The other five rush forward at Twisted’s first cry of pain, only sending themselves falling after her except Proxyhack, who, at the back of the swarm, stops herself just in time upon noticing those before her falling away out of her sight. Careful not to step onto the slope, she lights up her horn to full brightness, quickly figuring that if Queen Husk is close, she certainly would have heard her fellows’ cries anyway. She does not focus on the others, but looks ahead to where they are falling, and the thing at the bottom—to which Twisted Spare is already dangerously close—makes her eyes widen for only a moment before she narrows them in determination and brings her forewings buzzing.

Near the bottom of the slope, Twisted is being driven to near madness by the intensity of the love in the air, even as she continues falling—she even begins to think that this tumble will be worth it as soon as she gets to sip at the sweet love. Actually, this fall might even be fortuitous, only sending me all the more quickly to that love! Hitting the lip of what she imagines to be some hole, from which that maddening scent is issuing, her body is slammed against what Twisted had thought should have been a wall of rock, but is waxy and… “surface-y”? Grass-y.

The disgust that the feeling of plant-matter brings to Twisted pulls her out of her love-induced hypnosis. She scrabbles for purchase as she begins to fall into the hole, but quickly finds that the waxy texture of the apparent-leaves that line the hole prevent her usually so reliably sticky tarsi from stopping her fall. In her panic, she bites into the plant, and she finds to her relief that its thick, sturdy “body” holds instantly, even if it hurt her jaw and neck a little to stop falling so suddenly. Twisted lets herself hang there for a moment, regaining her senses and allowing her heart to calm itself.

This is interrupted by the arrival of shouts of surprise and pain, and her grasp is threatened as four bodies fall past her one after the other, almost seeming determined to knock her lose in the narrow hole. Their cries are silenced by the sound of splashing from below, and for a too-long moment she waits from them to surface and call out. Now with both panic and the draw of that love scent rising again, she carefully removes one of her fangs from the plant to tilt her head enough to look down, and she just barely manages to keep herself from screaming in fear at what she sees.

What she had imagined as a pool of water is, in fact, a pouch filled with something that must have a texture like that of syrup, given how the four are struggling inside it. The absurdity nearly convinces her that this must be some nightmare—being as they are, “insect dreams” (nightmares of suffering humiliating fates as common insects might meet) are not at all uncommon for Changelings—but the still-throbbing aches of her recent tumble inform otherwise. Some kind of giant insect-eat- Changeling-eating plant?! How?!

Swinging herself back up to reinsert her free fang once more into its hole, she thinks frantically for some method of not only escaping herself, but rescuing the ones already drowning below her. That’s when movement catches her eye, but it takes her a moment to process: The leaf attached to the hole of the chamber, which she had hit at the end of her tumble, is closing. If this thing regularly… “ingests” Changelings, would I be able to open that?

This is answered soon for her by the last of their group, PH, arriving and attempting to hold the leaf at bay as she looks down into the “belly” of the plant, for even though her legs visibly shake at attempting to hold it open, the strange strength behind the leaf unhaltingly pushes it closed. Proxyhack only gapes at the horror under her for a second before pulling away from Twisted’s view. “Wait!” Twisted cries, successfully calling PH back over the “lip” of the plant. “Help me!” She holds out her forelegs, inviting PH to fly in, grab her, and pull her out, but the motion causes her fangs to shift dangerously, so she quickly drops them back to her side.

PH shakes her head as she slowly pulls back. “Even if I could- Just hold on!” Is all the worker says before disappearing from sight, leaving Twisted with nothing more to look at than the still-closing leaf. In a panic, she fires off a spell to burn the plant, but her magic fragments into mere sparks upon hitting the leaf that undoubtedly had developed every possible defense against Changelings.

“-but... I can’t,” Twisted whispers to herself as the leaf seals the plant’s five morsels inside. Dislodging her fangs the rest of the way, she lets herself fall, closing her eyes, knowing her inevitable fate, relaxing into the syrupy liquid, which almost, if she stretches her imagination, cushions her fall, and envelops her like the softest of all possible blankets.

A jostle, and an odd sound reaches her through the liquid: a kind of thump… maybe. This thing doesn’t have a heart… does it? She questions; the plant’s very existence has already shaken her understanding of things, making this seem not all that implausible. Another jostle and thump, then a third and fourth. The fifth heralds another fall and more tumbling, and when all is done, she finds herself suddenly able to breathe, and all around are the sounds of gasping.

Climbing onto shaking hooves, the first thing she realizes is that the plant is now on its side, from… falling? she wonders as she looks up at the leaf, where Proxyhack has reappeared and now capable of pulling the covering back without apparent trouble. After hacking and spitting and shaking out their wings and antennae as best they could, the five crawl out the plant that had almost taken their lives, and now find themselves in a wide and high-ceilinged cave filled with brightly glowing crystals of seemingly all colors. The green light… It must have been these crystals’ light filtered through the plant’s membrane and reflected off the leaf… Twisted Spare realizes with embarrassment and disappointment.

As for the plant, Twisted turns around to see that it had been supported by a trunk of a stem, nearly as thick as a Changeling’s thorax, which, she next realizes, PH must have chopped through to free them. Proxyhack, I should have known she wouldn’t really leave us to die… She turns back to the humble-ling sitting off to the side, politely waiting for everyling else to shake off the ordeal and ready themselves to continue. “Proxyhack, I’d hug you if I wasn’t still covered in a thin layer of… this.” Twisted lifts a foreleg to show off how the crystals’ light reflects off a thin layer of the plant’s digestive juice still clinging to her carapace.

“In-Indeed!” Forgery adds, regaining as much poise as a Changeling can while being covered with such slime, and prompting the others to voice their thanks in a jumble of praise.

“Yeah! Awe-some!”
“That was super-duper-wuper-fuper!”
“I… agree.”

PH tries to hide her grin, looking down and away. “Shucks, I was just doing what- Did anyling else else hear that?” She asks suddenly, pulling her head up, antennae twitching; the others, having heard nothing, follow her, tilting their heads this way or that, straining to hear… something. Nothing happens for a few long minutes.

“Are you sure you heard somethin’, Hack?” Repeat eventually asks, being the first to run out of patience, and slumping in a disappointed way, as if she had been hoping for action that she could actually fight back against this time.

“’Course I’m sure.” PH answers, leaning even further in the direction she had been sure she heard something: the only way forward. “It sounded… a bit like rock scraping ’gainst rock… but not quite?” she adds with a glance at the ceiling that gives not the slightest sign that it might be about to cave-in, even to Repeat’s trained eyes.

The six linger for a moment, indecisively glancing between their only two choices: back up, or forward through the crystal-speckled cave with the supposed rock-on-rock sound of unknown origin—not that the five had any reason to doubt the sensitivity of Proxyhack’s antennae. Eventually, Twisted voices her opinion. “Well, we’re already down here, so we might as well see what’s down this path. If we run into a cave-in or something, I know where there’s another cave that branches off up there.” She gestures up at the vertical shaft the giant pitcher plant had occupied, and the others nod in vague agreement.

So they set off, mostly quiet, still listening for any sign of that rock-on-rock-like sound PH had mentioned—all except for Twisted Spare, who ponders the light-emitting crystals. This light… would a plant be able to photosynthesize it? Bah, of course it would; it’s the only thing that explains the existence of that giant Changeling-eating plant… but then why aren’t there any other plants around?… Were these crystals the reason these caves were mined? Except that Changelings don’t have as heavy a need for plants as other beings, so was it some kind of export? If so, for what, and with whom?

The rumble Proxyhack had spoken of finally sounds once more, much closer and now loud enough to make the six of them crouch and step back a few paces in anticipation of something bearing down on them. Nothing happens except for the sound disappearing just as suddenly as it had reappeared, leaving them shaking for a long moment, waiting for it to sound a third time.

As the fog of fear left in the sound’s wake dissipates, something new catches Twisted’s eye: a patch of deep shadow that, given the spread of crystals, shouldn’t exist. Stepping forward curiously, she catches sight of a crystal inside the patch of shadow, barely discernable in the inexplicable, localized darkness. Crystals that… “cancel out” light, as well? Those would definitely be of use to Changelings! So why haven’t I ever heard of such a thing? If these were mined, why aren’t they still in use since they don’t appear to lose their power over time? Unless I’m assuming too much about these crystals…? I don’t know. Something to think about after Queen Chrysalis is safe!

“Woah!… That’s freaky,” Repeat Design comments from beside Twisted, also straining to peer into the artificial shadow. Then, in full folk-science fashion, Repeat tentatively lifts a foretarsus, and before Twisted can shout, “No!” she taps the crystal.

Instantly, the rock-on-rock scraping/rumbling sound returns, drowning out Twisted’s too-late cry of warning. This time, it doesn’t stop, but grows louder and louder, soon causing the ground to shiver, then begin to shake when it becomes possible to distinguish the sound of something huge and heavy walking.

Silently, five fall into a line and crouch, ready to fight off what might threaten them, or to fly away and hopefully lose the apparently giant creature in the narrow pitcher plant’s shaft. If whatever this is was put here by Queen Husk, then this has to be the right way!

Behind the five, Photoshape takes one tiny step back for every booming footfall, until an inexplicable shadow comes into view, at which point she hides her head under her forelegs, but an instant later looks up, head tilted. Twisted, meanwhile, lights up her horn with the others. The rock-on-rock sound! It’s a golem made of those anti-light crystals! Smart… The darkness makes it practically impossible to identify the golem’s Key Stone, so it looks like we’re going to have to do this the old fashioned way!

Forgery preemptively rushes forward unaided by her four shocked allies, who can only watch as she manages to dodge under a swipe of one of the golem’s forelegs, then she jumps to the side from a stomp, landing on the cave wall, which she then uses to shift her momentum to deliver a spinning kick to the golem’s head. However, given the deep shadows hiding the golem’s exact form, Forgery had miscalculated the angle of her kick against the shape of the golem’s head, thus sending her tumbling. Moreover, the golem is hardly fazed by the kick, and Forgery barely manages to regain her senses in time to roll out of the way of another stomp, leaving her to retreat back into the line, grinning sheepishly.

“Alright… this time, together!” Twisted stomps one of her tarsi forward in a battle-ready stance she had seen the Soldiers-in-training practicing on the grounds around Buzzington Castle; the other four—two on either side—copy her. As the golem continues to make its slow, seemingly inexorable way towards them, Photoshape, still behind the others, steps forward as well, but curiously, narrowing her eyes, straining to pierce the darkness hiding something she’s sure she had caught a glimpse of just before Forgery had launched her attack.

The golem halts, raising its head up, almost making it appear shocked at the five’s approach, and at this moment Photoshape’s eyes widen. There! A flash of green light! Knowing she hasn’t a moment to waste, Photoshape teleports between the five rushing forward and the golem, shouting, “Sto-ooo-p!” but she needn’t have bothered, for her appearance in the flash of green magical fire makes all five buzz their wings frantically to help them halt their charge.

“Photoshape?! What-?!” Twisted begins to ask, but the Ponytender ignores her, turning to the golem and slowly approaching its still silently standing form. “Wait!” Twisted calls, but her warning is unheeded.

“You don’t have to do this,” Photoshape assure quietly when comes within touching-distance of the golem. The creature of anti-light crystals makes no response, so Photoshape reaches forward, neither slowly nor quickly, merely confidently, and brushes a few chunks of crystal off of the golem—rather, golem-like construct. She does this again and again, creating a “hole” in the shadows until the face of a Changeling can be seen, its horn lit, or at least the face of what seems to be a Changeling.

With its face fully uncovered, all six can see a formation of crystals floating inside an empty head, forming a kind of eye: A small diamond-shaped anti-light crystal—a “pupil”—is set inside a blue, octagonal-shaped light crystal—an “iris”. This eye-structure shifts between where each eye socket would be if the husk had a skull, glancing between Photoshape and the group of five still standing back where Photoshape had stopped them, all gaping at this development.

“You poor thing…” Photoshape whispers, stroking the side of the husk’s face, which feels as firm as if it still had flesh underneath. “Here, let me help.” Stepping back, Photoshape uses her magic to swiftly pull up a cube of earth out of the cave floor, leaving a hole just large enough for a Changeling.

Tentatively, the living husk pulls itself out of the golem-like construct and allows its horn to stop channeling magic, which leaves the anti-light crystals to collapse in a pile behind it. Shivering at its exposure, it swiftly climbs into the hole and falls still, and as Photoshape brings the cube of earth back over the hole, she sees the husk through the crack just before she drops the earth as it seems to sigh in relief. Photoshape copies the husk’s last act as the five behind her approach, shivering at what they just witnessed.

Everyling is told scary stories of unburied husks coming to life and wreaking havoc, but that is all they were, or all they had been, to convince nymphs to properly dispose of husks; such stories are not all that dissimilar from pony parents telling their foals to put their things neatly away in their closets or else monsters might take to inhabiting the unused spaces. The six glance at each other uneasily, knowing what they are all thinking.

First that insect dream come to life, now this nymph-scaring tale, too? Twisted shakes her head at the thoughts coming to her. It’s all so surreal I’m starting to worry that if this trend continues, I’ll only become more and more convinced this is actually dream, which it might be, but- No! I can’t think like that! This is definitely real, and I have to believe that to have any chance of saving Queen Chrysalis!… Still, something is very definitely wrong about this place—not “cursed”, of course!—but what’s happened here cannot have a natural origin, and something tells me this is not Queen Husk’s doing…

“Wait.” Twisted jerks her head up to look curiously over Photoshape. “How-… Photoshape, how did you know what to do?” This prompts the others to also look up, and their combined attention causes the Ponytender to draw back.

“We-Well…” Photoshape gulps and begins to nervously draw circles around a hole in her right foreleg with her left foretarsus when this only calls the other five to lean forward, expectant. “Animated husks sometimes… come out of the Mines, and- uhm… I help them. -by bury-”

“What?!” Twisted cries out, making everyling jump, Photoshape highest of all. That… can’t-… -but she-… There’s no reason for her to lie… unless she’s deluded and/or wants to help perpetuate Fangville’s beliefs, but there’s no denying that what she did worked, so if either of the former is true, then the only other explanation is that she simply guessed what to do, which even I don’t buy!

“Urng… N-Never mind. We have more important things to worry about. So, how about we… just keep going?” Twisted gulps as she steps back from the barely discernable mound the buried husk makes in the cave floor, and pulls her eyes away from it to the pile of anti-light crystals that nearly blocks the way forward, then she pulls back in shock. As they had focused so completely on the husk, none had noticed the anti-light crystals losing their power, becoming apparently simple, non-magical black crystals. I guess they have to be powered by magic… Twisted shrugs before leading the way over the hill of crystals. The path beyond is largely uneventful save for the gradual shift in the ratio of light crystals to anti-light crystals until, eventually, the anti-light crystals simply end. Very different from how they had gradually grew in number… Twisted muses worriedly. Had they been mined long ago and stopped here from some reason, or were they gathered by Queen Husk just recently? Pondering this, she stares at the border where the crystals stop, but soon her line of sight is broken by a turn in the cave, and a different question supersedes it when she turns back forward. Wood? Here?

Splinters of wood spread over the cave floor soon turn to chunks of broken planks that hint they had once been parts of doors and door frames, then, just before a sharp turn, tiny glittering shards of glass, piles of what can only be glass crushed into sand, and a piece of bent metal—a hinge. Given this, Twisted isn’t too surprised to find a door in the cave wall around the next bend in the cave, but she is surprised, along with the other five, to see the cave lined with at least a dozen doors to each side. Most of these doors are broken, revealing only smooth rock wall behind where they had once stood, and the first door to the right—rather, door frame—contains a heavily cracked mirror, and its door lays on the ground beside it, mostly intact.

Twisted steps carefully forward—not in mind of the glass, as such cannot pierce her carapace, but in mind of anything that might wish her harm, frantically going over any stories that might warn about dangers around mirrors, but coming up empty—to peer into the supposed mirror. At first, as she approaches it from an angle, it seems to reflect the cave, as a mirror should, but as she comes in front of it, the image shifts to show a white, barren land beneath a cliff of ice. A… glacier? Is this some kind of spying device? Why would it be focused on what I’m guessing are the mountains in the north? Nothing’s up there… unless-…? I wonder how long this thing has been here. The spell is probably as broken as the mirror—just ready to fall apart…

Shrugging, she turns around, jumping slightly upon seeing that the others had come up behind her without her noticing, also staring, confused, into the broken mirror. “This doesn’t look important; let’s continue,” Twisted advises to general nods, though all continue looking back at the mirror until it once again fades into simply reflecting the cave when the angle of their line-of-sight to it becomes too sharp. Turning their heads back forward in near-unison, every one of their eyes falls upon a door that had been left partially open, showing them all something that makes them freeze.

No… It can’t… be! Twisted’s heart jitters in her chest; the shivers in that root to life would have caused her to fall if not for the mad, desperate tightening of her muscles, ready for any reason to spring to life… but there do not appear to be any. Past the frame of the door, Twisted sees the throne room of Buzzington Castle, where Queen Husk stands over the crumbled throne, the rubble of which partially obscures an unmoving Queen Chrysalis.

How?… How?! Repeat Design wants to scream, but her throat has locked itself, and even as much as she begs silently for an explanation, she already knows there’s only one cause behind what she sees. Only to her Cavekeeper eyes do the remains of Fangville make itself known, so complete is the devastation wrought by a massive cave-in.

Oh, no… Please, no! Of all of them, only Photoshape moves, lifting a tarsus to her mouth, opened in horror, and tears form in her eyes. There, she sees a Changeling with orange eyes and an orange elytra standing among the torn remains of the cocoons holding the ponies under her care; even before they can shake off the grogginess of the Ponytender’s magically induced sleep, the Changeling begins to restrain them in shackles of iron—one of the worst tortures Changelings know; neither Photoshape nor the orange Changeling seems aware that the ponies are not affected by iron like Changelings are.

There’s no way… Proxyhack’s breathing turns shallow, and her eyes glaze over, doubling her vision as if trying to block out the image, but she still can’t turn away or close her eyes to what she’s forced to watch. The door opens into her home, where all the family that had gathered for the Carnival sits tied, and there in the center of the room stands a Changeling that could only be of Husk’s Hive, looking over a collection of ingredients before a cauldron—ingredients that Proxyhack takes less than a second to realize can be mixed into a potent, painful, fatal poison.

Why!?… I didn’t-! Forgery’s mind works frantically to make sense of what she sees, going over every calculation and consideration that had gone into her work. She doesn’t question how the door shows the inside of a pony’s home, or rather, a Changeling’s home, whose disguise she had built from scratch, where the now-unmasked Changeling is restrained by pony-Soldiers under the pure terror-inducing gaze of Princess Celestia.

“Hmm?” Piccy hums in thought, tilting her head at what can only be nonsense. Standing beyond the door is none other than herself, glancing around in fear as the entirety of Fangville has cornered her and is slowly closing in on her with murderous intent in their eyes. That’s not happening right now, and there’s no way it’s gon’na happen, so-oooo… A smirk grows into a smile, and before long a chuckle escapes her, then a giggle, then a fully belly-laugh that makes her too weak to stand.

Finally, the other five are able to take their eyes away from the horrific scenes beyond the mirror-door, though only to stare with continued horror, now mixed with incredulousness, at Piccy as she rolls back and forth, almost looking like a bug struggling on its back, if not for the fact that it’s obvious she’s not even trying to get her legs back under her, what with her hugging her thorax as it heaves from her laughter. “Piccy, what-… what are you-…?” Twisted struggles with her tight throat to question her ally’s sanity.

Calming enough at this unfinished question to get back to her legs, Piccy gestures to the door. “Oh, girls, don’t you see?”

Girls? The others are momentarily distracted by this word. What’s with the pony-terminology all of a sudden?

Pausing to take in a huge breath, Piccy begins to sing.

“When I was little nymph-y and the Sun was going do-ow-own,”

This only further confuses the other five, which, as they’re yet unaware of, brings them further from the fake worries the door had brought to them. “Nymph-y”? -and what’s that part about the Sun supposed to be about? Did Piccy grow up on the surface?

“The darkness and the shadows, they would always make me frow-ow-own.”

Here, Piccy begins to move to nonexistent music, often rubbing against and hugging her companions as if inviting them to join her.

“I’d hide under my pillow at what I thought I saw,
“But Granny Tick said that wasn’t the way to deal with fears at all!”

Inexplicably, she pauses for a moment, eyes wide with intent as she stares purposefully, expectantly at Repeat Design, but nothing happens, so Piccy continues singing.

“She said, ‘Piccy, you got’ta stand up tall; learn to face your fears!
“You’ll see that they can’t hurt you! Just laugh to make them disappear!”

Pausing to take another breath, Piccy jumps and stands with her head high before the door for a tense moment, then leans forward and lets out three short laughs, “Ha. Ha. Ha!” and with each one, a tiny crack forms in the door’s mirror, making the five others gasp, shocked and wondering how Piccy can do such a thing with a mere laugh. None of them speak as she continues to dance and sing, making further cracks in the mirror with every synonym.

“So-oooo, giggle at the ghostly!
“Guffaw with the grossly!

“Crack it up at the creepy!
“Whoop it up with the weepy!

“Chortle at the kooky!
“Snortle at the spooky!

“And tell that big dumb scary face to take a hike and leave you alone and if he thinks he can scare you then he’s got another thing coming and the very idea of such a thing just makes you wan’na-…”

As Piccy takes in yet another large gasp after saying that long sentence in one breath, she jumps into the mirror, landing in each vision as if there are five copies of her, and just before the finale of the song, she hugs to her side Queen Husk in Twisted’s vision, the orange Changelings in Photoshape’s and Proxyhack’s visions, and Princess Celestia in Forgery’s vision, then the Changelings of Fangville from Piccy’s vision suddenly appear in Repeat’s, and all the other Changelings—and in Forgery’s vision, ponies—simultaneously lift their heads to cheerfully cry out,

“-laaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaugh!”

Even with what they had just witnessed—though now knowing it was fake all along helps them discount it—the five can’t help but begin to smile at the ridiculousness of the scenes before them. Curiously lifting a leg, Twisted touches the mirror, almost expecting to fall through into her vision as Piccy had entered; instead, the mirror instantly shatters into dust upon contact. The particles flutter like cooling ashes, revealing Piccy standing inside a tiny alcove barely large enough for her.

“Huh…” Twisted exclaims, examining the harmless dust that had settled on on her leg, the paralysis she had felt upon looking in the mirror now mostly forgotten. “Oh!” She looks up at the still widely smiling Piccy. “Piccy, how did-? Never mind.” Twisted shakes her head of questions that can be considered later. “What… was that about? Laughter… doesn’t really help…” She gulps as the fear from seconds ago begins to creep up on her once more.

“Silly, it’s not about the laughter, it’s about what the laughter means!” Piccy bounces out of the alcove as if nothing had happened.

“‘What laughter means’?…” Twisted tilts her head nearly synchronistically with the four beside her, voicing all of their confusion.

“Yeppie!” Piccy closes her eyes cheerfully before sitting and lifting a foretarsus to her thorax, right over her heart, and lets her head hang as she closes her eyes—this calmness all in complete opposition to the Piccy they know. “All you have to do is think about the Changelings you care about…” she begins in a quiet, almost solemn tone before suddenly shouting out, “and you’ll just know what to do!” Piccy throws her legs up in her “Piccy-way”.

“Think about who we care about…” Twisted repeats, copying Piccy’s meditative-like stance. Queen Chrysalis… everything she’s done for me… and for all Changelings… There’s no way a little fear is going to stand in the way of that!

“Ha!” Twisted cries out and stomps the tarsus she had been holding over her heart, doing this with the other four in another moment of inexplicable timing. Their laugh might not sound like one of happiness—more like one of confidence—but in each, “Ha!” is contained the strength of happiness they had all experienced in the presence of those they love, and a wish for more of such moments to come, but first, “Let’s go!” Twisted calls once more, more confidently than any time before.

- - - -

Some time later, after “navigating” a long, winding cave without a single fork, Twisted comes to a halt at another bend, holding a foreleg out to the side to silently signal for the five behind her to stop—they don’t have to ask why, for just at the beginning of the curve they can see that once more active anti-light crystals block off all light suddenly. This has to be the most transparent trap of all traps that ever had and will exist! -but it’s been a long time since we last saw any branching cave, so… does this trap’s mere existence mean we’re going the right way?

“Alright, everyling,” Twisted whispers, hoping that only the five behind her can hear and noling wishing them harm that might be waiting in the shadows of the crystals. “That artificial darkness has to be hiding some trap or ambush, but it’ll make anyling else in there just as blind as us, and if anything happens, teleportation is one of my best spells, so there’s nothing we can’t handle.” She assures, trying to stoke the embers of the strong conviction Piccy’s “pep talk” had given them.

Around the six of them Twisted casts a weak barrier meant more as a means to neutralize any element of surprise or buy time to cast the teleportation spell she spoke of before they proceed into the shadows of the anti-light crystals. They don’t go very far before a drone’s voice, close, but still far enough away to be distorted by echoing, and yet all the same strangely familiar, makes them jump in surprise, then crouch, ready. “Heh heh heh… Ah-ha ha ha ha! You’ve fallen straight into Queen Husk’s ingenious trap, foolish-ling!”

“Is that-? Aieee!” is all Forgery gets out before the cave begins to shake, almost making them fall—Forgery isn’t the only one to cry out in shock and fear.

“Look out!” Repeat Design calls out over the ever-worsening rumbling. She lights up her horn, but without being able to see the cave itself, she’s rendered incapable of casting her usual Cavekeeping spells, so all she’s able to do is lend her strength and knowledge to Twisted’s barrier, making it more specialized to stand up against falling rock.

As the shaking of the cave continues to build, all of the anti-light crystals are shaken loose and lose their shadow-casting power, and with reflexes born of her training, Repeat quickly stabilizes the ceiling she can now see, nearly instantly stopping the rumbling.

“Huh? How did-? You were supposed to be alone!” The once-confident drone yells with fear now present in his tone. “I have to tell Queen Husk!” Looking up through the clearing dust, they see a Changeling with blue elytra retreating, but his turned back can’t hide his identity.

“Tsep?! What is the meaning of this!?” Forgery calls, rushing ahead, flying over the rubble of broken crystals, leaving the others to frantically follow her.

It’s not only the sound of his name that makes him look back in shock. “Forgery?! You’re-?!” Before he can finish his question, he slams into the cave wall where it narrows sharply. This disturbance, combined with Repeat’s hasty work, is all that’s needed to once again cause the cave to begin shaking, only now centered over where Tsep lies in a daze—a crack quickly appears in the rock over him, shaking copious dust onto him.

Twisted fearfully glances towards Repeat Design, but in her fury, the Cavekeeper refuses to aid the traitor, doing nothing more than narrowing her eyes. Regaining sense just enough to realize the danger he’s in, Tsep kicks off the wall, not thinking about why the rock is getting ready to cave-in. He manages to launch himself out of immediate danger, but a boulder, finally shaken completely loose by his kick, slides out of the wall and comes down on his hind legs, after which the instabilities in the rock settle, at least for now.

“Tsep!” Forgery repeats as she lands before him, still surprised, but such has abated enough for anger to come to the forefront. “What is-!? What are you doing here?!” She struggles to ask as the others come up behind her.

Wincing and hissing at the pain in his legs, but rather bravely showing no more reaction, Tsep answers, “I… was waiting to trigger that trap, but…” he sighs, “Queen Husk told me that it would be easy, since only she was coming…” He waves a foretarsus at Twisted.

Before Twisted can properly process this and what would have happened to her (multiple times over by now), Forgery explodes, “That’s not what I meant, and you know it! Why?!” Tsep winces further, pulling his legs more tightly against himself, but whether it’s Forgery’s shout or that the force of it causes another momentary rumble through the cave, only he knows.

Gulping, he blinks a few sudden tears from his eyes before they go blank. “I… saw… what she can do.” He pauses, and his breath quickens as the scene replays in his mind; the six standing around him wait with their own breaths held. “Those Soldiers that-… she made them like herself, and I knew she did something to their minds, too. I didn’t want that to happen to… me… so I offered to serve her willingly.”

“Oh, no…” Twisted whispers. I really, really hope that’s reversible…! No, it has to be reversible! Right?

“Feh!” Repeat snorts disdainfully. “Well, at least we know we’re going the right way now!” She points into where the cave narrows, the only path onward and the only escape Tsep could have been heading for; she takes a few steps, obviously intent on leading the way.

“Wait!” Tsep lifts a foreleg, offering it as if to invite them to pull him out from under the boulder. “You’re not just going to leave me here like this! Are you? You can’t! Please don’t…” He begs, switching tones from frantic to worrying to aggressive to sorrowful.

“What do you think, quisling?” Repeat spits, making Tsep wince, before continuing to walk unconcernedly, muzzle up and nose wrinkled in disgust; upon reaching the entrance of the narrowed cave, she looks back, one brow raised upon noticing noling is following her—in her anger, she doesn’t register their shocked, disapproving expressions. “Uh… Hey! Lings! Are we stopping Queen Husk or not?”

“Repeat Design!” Forgery attempts to scold, but the name, oddly, doesn’t mix well with such a tone of voice. “Can’t you show a little sympathy or understanding for Tsep’s position!? What hope is any normal worker or drone—such as ourselves and Tsep here—supposed to have standing against a Queen without the Elements?! It’s surrender or-!…” Forgery gulps. “… assimilation.”

Hoping to help persuade the Cavekeeper—the one who would know how to free him most safely—Tsep nods, not too vigorously, fearing such would only irritate Repeat further, but not too slowly, either. Spotting this, she narrows her gaze on him slightly before turning directly away from him and sitting down. “Hmph!” is all Repeat offers, obviously not averse to the others freeing Tsep and just as obviously not about to offer aid. Instead, she mutters to herself, “‘-any normal worker such as ourselves’? speak for yourself…!”

Sighing, shaking her head, and closing her eyes to help her focus as she takes a moment to gather her reserves of patience, Forgery turns back to Tsep. Humming in thought as she takes a careful look about the boulder and how it contacts the cave wall and the cracks around it, she tries to determine a safe way to lift the boulder, but her complete lack of training or studying in anything even remotely connected to Cavekeeping means she has to soon admit she’s only stalling to gather her bravery for her one, likely only, attempt. “Alright, dear… get ready!” she warns as she lights up her horn, and Tsep tenses his forelegs.

A terrible grinding sound, bordering on a screech, makes all but Forgery and Repeat Design cringe, and another blanket of dust is shaken loose from the stealthily widening cracks in the ceiling and walls. Repeat Design’s eyes widen.

“Forgery!” She whips around, magic struggling to steady the cave’s structure.

“Got him!” Twisted calls, who had used magic to yank Tsep out from under the boulder the second after Repeat’s warning.

“Ouch!” Forgery cries out when Repeat forcibly removes the Changemaker’s magic from the boulder, causing not a little backcast to rush through her horn.

Immediately after, an echoing bang leaves all silent except for everyling’s heavy breathing, and all has gone dark as everyling’s magic is exhausted or forgotten as they recuperate their wits.

Tsep is the first to try to move, immediately causing him to hiss in pain. “Ah! Sss…! M-My legs! Sss, I… don’t think… I can walk!” His hissing soon turns into quieter whimpers. “Erm, will some-…-ling carry me, please? I don’t-” He gulps fearfully, then raises himself up slightly with sudden inspiration. “I can show you the way! Yes! There’s a hidden path!”

Five of them look surprised and gladdened by this news, but Repeat stomps forward to stare skeptically into Tsep’s eyes; he shrinks away as best he’s able. “Oh, really? Why didn’t you mention it before? How are we suppose to know it’s not another trap?!”

“Be-Be-Because… I’ll-…” Tsep looks back and forth as he searches for some reason; it hits him just a second before Twisted realizes the same. “You’ll take me! I’ll be with you! If there’s another trap, I’ll die too!” I really hope Queen Husk hasn’t set another trap…!

Repeat narrows her eyes, staring straight into Tsep’s, searching for anything that might hint at a trick; Tsep stares back, but tilts his head as if fighting the instinct to look away from the Sun. Forgery breaks in, “Repeat-”

“Fine!” She rears up, turning away from the traitor. “-but he’s coming with me.” Noling argues as she lifts Tsep in her strong telekinesis and places him not so gently on her back—the only reaction is Forgery wincing at how his limp hindlegs flop against Repeat’s side.

Not wanting to lose what little trust he’s gained, Tsep quickly gives directions before anyling can prompt him. “Okay, go into that crack and… I’ll tell you when to stop.” Without hesitation, and rolling her eyes at the obvious instruction, Repeat takes the lead into the narrow cave that forces them to go single-file. They don’t go for long before Tsep taps Repeat’s side. “Here it is! I just have to… uhm, uncover it. Gim’me a second…” he mutters, lighting up his horn; Repeat and Twisted do the same, ready to respond to any trap Tsep might trigger, knowlingly or otherwise.

Nothing, however, happens except a portion of wall that had felt quite solid before simply disappearing to reveal a much wider cave. Stepping slowly into the newly revealed cave, most wiggle their shoulders a little, grateful for the space—though many Changelings go through their entire lives without seeing the surface (outside of ponies’ dreams), their caves are never as claustrophobic as that they just exited.

Once more they do not go far before being stopped, but this time is by Repeat Design. “Everyling be quiet for a second.” Being the Cavekeeper of their group, the others do not question her as she gingerly steps up to the cave wall to put an antenna against it; she closes her eyes to listen for a few seconds, then announces, “Something is… weird here.”

“‘Weird’?” Twisted repeats with a raised brow as the Cavekeeper sits roughly, letting the unprepared Tsep roll roughly off her back.

“I’m not sure, but something about this rock…” She taps the wall, which indeed produces an odd sound. “I’m gon’na scout ahead. If you hear something and I don’t come back…” she glares over her back at Tsep, and what she says makes him gulp. “You know what to do.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea? To go alone?” Twisted steps forward, offering to accompany, but Repeat nods.

“I know you can’t see it, but I’m worried about this cave being unstable. I wan’na make sure before we put too much weight on it, because if it collapses and it is the right way… then what are we gon’na do?”

She’s right! Queen Husk had Tsep set up that trap that was designed to catch me alone, so if I passed that trap, she would have to know I’m not alone, so any trap after would be designed to catch multiple Changelings! Twisted nods and steps back, silently signaling the soundness of Repeat’s plan.

With that decided, Repeat carefully advances, but not too slowly, for they’re still racing against Queen Husk for the Elements. When she passes out of view, Forgery goes to where Tsep had been left and rearranges his legs so he’s more comfortable. He only sighs in relief, still too nervous about his eventual fate to speak, even to thank Forgery; she gives him a quick, small smile though, seeming to know what he wishes to say but for which he has no bravery.

Down the cave, Repeat is becoming more and more nervous, for even as she steps lightly, the odd sound had turned into an odd feeling in the floor under her tarsi, felt with unknown awareness coming from deep in her Cavekeeper’s intuition, but she refrains from flying, not wanting to alert anyling—or anything—with the buzzing of her wings.

Upon coming to the entrance to what she guesses to be a city-sized chamber, she catches herself before she allows a sigh of relief. I still don’t know what’s wrong with that rock… She frowns as she steps into the chamber and turns to the cave, tilting her head, she examines the rock that frames the exit, hoping to find the offending deformity.

“Repeat…” comes her name, whispered but still loud in the silence of the Petualoose Mines.

“Huh? Is that you, Twisted?” she directs her question into the cave, for the voice had a quality that made it difficult to distinguish in tone and direction.

“Repeat…” The voice repeats, closer, revealing it is certainly not Twisted, nor any other-ling that she had left in the cave, and it is coming from behind.

“Why’re you hidin’, huh?” Repeat whips around, horn firing brighter. “You scared’a me? ’Cause you should be!” She smirks confidently when she notices shadows barely discernable against the darkness. Three on one? Now this shouldn’t take ten seconds! -and if they think they still have the element of surprise…

Instead, three workers, eyes and elytra blue, step calmly into Repeat’s hornlight; the apparent leader stands, heavy-built and tall—not quite as tall as a Queen, but her overall body mass might rival one—a leg-length forward of the other two. “We have been waiting these countless ages for the best Rocklaborer in Melipoland to present herself before us!” she announces, using a now mostly archaic term that includes all those that physically work with caves.

Repeat Design blinks, shocked out of her fight-ready stance. “Countless ages”? Could she mean since before these Mines were cursed? She gulps. Stranger things have happened here, I know! “Uh… huh… Well, good luck with that… I guess?” She turns back to the cave exit; the idea that she might be the Rocklaborer they are talking about doesn’t yet enter her thoughts.

“That would be you, naturally,” the worker is quick to sink her fangs into Repeat’s ego.

She whips around once more, antennae perked. “Really?!” In the next second, she pulls back, forcing herself to appear relax, perhaps even unconcerned—she hopes—as if such a statement is as uncontestable as Princess Celestia’s status as the Goddess of the Sun. “I mean, ya think so, huh?” The pseudo-Queen nods. “Well, it would be cool if you would, you know, go ahead and tell the Rumblerocks that? I’ve been train- I mean, trying to get them to recognize me forever!” Repeat’s resolve begins to crack near the end, and her excitement at the mere idea of the prestigious group leaks into her tone.

“I don’t think so, Repeat Design-”

“Wha-?”

“-because we want you to join us, the Shatterstones. We are the greatest Bodypowered team of Petualoose!” she explains, referring to the title of those that train their body to use as little magic on the job as possible, since magic is much more expensive, love-wise, than simple manual labor, “-and we will soon challenge the Rumblerocks for the title of greatest in Melipoland, but we need a new captain. Someling with the most bravura-”

“Mm-hm…” Repeat nods, more excitement building behind her palisade of stoicism.

“-the fastest reflexes-”

“Mm-hm, mm-hm…” Unconsciously, Repeat shines her horn even brighter at the praise.

“-and the greatest daring in all hives that ever were and will be…” As she spoke, the leader had stepped forward and tilted her body so that Repeat would not be able to see the other two slip back into the shadows—she needn’t have bothered, so engrossed in the leader is the Cavekeeper, she is now failing to contain excited chuckling. “Who we need is… you.”

“Yeah!” Repeat buzzes her forewings and clicks her elytra. “Of course you do! So, uh, what do I need to do to get in, official-like?” Given the apparent-leaders praise, she expects she’s already in, with only whatever needs to be done yet to be so.

“Oh, just a short demonstration. I’m sure it won’t be any trouble for someling like you. You do know the A-formation, right?” Out of the darkness, the other two reappear, carrying two boulder-sized crystals of the normal, non-glowing (and non-light-absorbing) variety. Repeat instantly understands the idea, having seen the Rumblerocks crash such crystals together to create amazing explosions and showers of crystal with raw muscle.

Having memorized the stated flight patterns long ago, Repeat nods, so she and the leader silently take a boulder each and lift them, testing their weight for a second before nodding to each other. One of those on the ground counts down from four, and the two fly off.

The Rocklaborer speeds slightly ahead, but Repeat pushes the tiny bit needed to catch up without issue, making her grin at her undeniable victory, at least for a second. Wait… If we crash the boulders here, then the shockwave could-! In the next instant, the “convenience” of running into this supposed Bodypowered team hits Repeat. They’re the trap!

Thinking quickly, she lines up with the fake Rocklaborer slightly too soon than what the A-formation calls for, then the second before impact, pulls up and launches her boulder into the darkness above. Without losing momentum, she performs a spinning kick to the fake’s side; the sound of cracking chitin is clear, and Repeat feels her tarsus become wet. The other boulder flies off into the chamber, landing far from where any shockwave it creates could cause the cave to collapse.

Before the other two can react, Repeat curves around and knocks both out on one pass, then she flies up once again to catch her boulder before it can crash into the ground near the cave. Setting it down, she takes note of the Changelings now revealed for what they are, with orange eyes and elytra. “Hmph! Should’a known…” She shrugs, then takes another kick at the one that had posed as the pseudo-Queen, her size revealed to be quite normal under the disguise—the fissure in her chitin is not nearly as bad as it had sounded.

- - - -

Having not found out the secret of the strange rock, but having knocked out those three Soldiers, they fly through the cave (Forgery insisting on carrying Tsep) and reach the chamber in seconds. Twisted gulps as she lands, not even glancing at the unconscious orange Changelings beside her. “This has to be it…” She mutters, bringing out the book from under her elytra—an action that calls the others to land in a semicircle before her. “‘The Ruins of The Hive with Two Queens’…”

Frantic, but knowing they need to be silent, they fan out, but only so far that the light of their horns barely overlap, to search the impossibly large cavern. This is it. Husk has to already be here. If she gets to those Elements before us-… I can’t think about it!

Finding the castle, both fortunately and unfortunately, is not at all difficult, for it has similarly complex designs in its enchanted wax as Buzzington Castle, reflecting their hornlight from far away. Twisted winces and struggles to keep her wings still as they rush (always careful to be silent) to the apparent entrance of the crumbling castle, only to find-

“Are those… the Elements?” Proxyhack steps ahead of the others, who had stopped in shock, not only by the presence of the Elements, but the simple fact the Elements are here, in the open, practically waiting. Shouldn’t Queen Husk have already found them if they’re… just here?

“‘The Elements’?” Tsep suddenly perks up, and the unsuspecting Forgery can’t keep him from falling from her back “You can’t mean the Elements of Harmony?!”

What are the Elements of Harmony? Five wonder, but only idly—the question quickly forgotten under the thing before them.

“Uh, no, the Elements of Unity…” Twisted quirks her brow at him for a second, then turns back to the monument sitting in the middle of the room, stepping reverently forward. There is the giant statue of a wasp, facing the entrance, head positioned as if to look over anyling that would dare enter its ancient, dead hive. Its stinger connects it to its platform, and its legs are spread out, each holding what appears to be a necklace made of stone. Everything matches the illustrations in the book, except-

“One of its legs is gone!” Piccy points out unnecessarily; her tone is panicky, but still does not quite lose its jolly quality entirely.

“One of the elements is gone!” Photoshape clarifies in the loudest voice Twisted had yet heard from the Ponytender.

“No…” Twisted shakes her head. “No. No, no, no, nonono…!” She mutters as she flips through the book frantically. “Gah! Why didn’t I-! ‘When the five come out of hiding, a twirl will turn them home and call to the sixth’! ‘Out of hiding’? ‘A twirl’? I don’t… understand!” Twisted wails, letting herself and the book fall.

Just after the others turn to Twisted, but before they can take one step toward her, a calm laugh echoes into the chamber. “Ha… ha… ha… ha… ha… ha… ha.” From a hall in the back, Queen Husk enters. “So! You finally realized, student of my dearly loved sister, that all the knowledge in the world can’t help you, have you? It can’t save you. It never could…” Her last statement is quiet, almost seemingly directed to herself.

Then, she takes the book that Twisted had dropped, quickly flips through its pages, and, with a twinge of magic, blasts it into dust. “… So useless… To think Chryssy, so supposedly great, would waste time on this.” It would have been easy to imagine she’s talking about the book if she had not shot a disgusted glance at Twisted on the final word; she does not spare much attention on Twisted, however, and becomes suddenly engrossed in the wasp statue, staring into its expressionless compound eyes.

“So very useless… just like these.” With a sigh and slump to her withers, she lets loose another blast of lazy magic, leaving the stone necklaces as nothing but fragments, indiscernible from all the other shards of stone the ruins had deteriorated into over the countless years.

Even as the others call out in shock or anger, Twisted merely allows her eyes to close and her head to fall to the floor. It doesn’t matter. They were useless without the sixth Element, and I have no idea how to get it… “A twirl will turn them home and call to the sixth”? How is that suppose to help… “Useless”… Useless… Vaguely, Twisted hears Queen Husk now laughing more fully—victoriously—somewhere above her.

Wait… “Turn them home”? Twisted opens her eyes, quickly blinking them clear of tears. Does that mean… they weren’t home? They aren’t home? If that’s the case, the Elements have to be somewhere else! Still blind and deaf to anything happening around her, Twisted stands, beginning to grin; the only thing she hears, Queen Husk’s laugh, begins to lose its strength—its surety. Queen Husk didn’t do anything but destroy their old homes, so they’ll need new ones, and new homes means-! I hope this works… Elements, wherever you are… whatever you are, you better hear me! You’re our last hope!

Finally standing straight and confident, the world snaps back into focus. Queen Husk is still standing at the base of the wasp statue, now holding her muscles tense, no longer relaxed. She knows… She must have known all along. To either side of Twisted lay the other five, demoralized. Photoshape and Piccy hug each other to her right, and to her left sits Proxyhack, head down, tears running from closed eyes and down her muzzle, then Forgery and Tsep, also hugging, and finally Repeat design, glaring and gritting her teeth, hatred seething equally against that which she cannot defeat and her own weakness. “Come on, lings! We’re not defeated yet! Stand!”

“Heh… heh… hmm. ‘Not defeated yet’?” Queen Husk lowers her head, pointing her horn. “How is destroying the only weapon that could overpower me not ‘defeating you’?” Husk smirks when noling follows Twisted’s order except PH, who only steps to Twisted’s side to put a comforting tarsus on her elytra.

“She’s right, Twis. What else-?”

“No, she’s wrong. The Elements of Unity are right here!” As Twisted lifts her own foreleg to place on PH’s back, the Medkeeper lets hers fall, confused. “You we’re the first, PH. You showed me that even when I doubt… my friends… they’ll always come through, embodying the Element of Trust!”

To everyling’s shock—even Queen Husk’s—except Twisted’s, fragments of stone lift in green magic without anyling casting a levitation spell and begin to circle Proxyhack’s neck.

Yes! “Photoshape!” The Ponytender lets out the tiniest sound at being addressed. “When you fearlessly confronted the angry animated husk and laid it to rest, you showed us all the power behind the Element of Compassion!” Once more, slivers of stone that had once formed a necklace light up with a green glow and make their way to their new Bearer.

Finally, Queen Husk breaks through her surprise. “How can-? No! Stop! You. -will. -stop!” she cries, firing spells haphazardly, which only bounce off an invisible barrier now surrounding the seven Changelings, and as Twisted goes on, she soon turns to attempting to flee, but once more finds some power blocking her.

“-and when you, Piccy, reminded us why we were on this mission to begin with, you revealed your Element in the Joy you asked us to recall! Forgery, in your understanding of how terrible situations can lead some astray into making terrible decisions, you represent the Element of Forgiveness! Then, Repeat Design, when you confronted those who would trick you into deserting by using your dreams against you, you showed yourself worthy of the Element of Devotion!”

The now brightly glowing stone fragments pulse as they lift their new Bearers off the floor; Tsep, released from Forgery’s hug, scuttles back into a corner, mouth hanging in awe of the power he has chance to witness.

Husk, breathing frantically, forces out a strained laugh. “Ooooh… Ha! Your-… Your out of Elements! You don’t know where the sixth one is. You don’t even know what it is!”

“Yes, I do…” Twisted asserts calmly, making the Queen stop breathing. “Queen Chrysalis already told me, even if I didn’t realize it at the time.” When she pauses, closing her eyes, the fragmented necklaces pulse, their brightness growing. “‘There is so much more to a young Changeling’s life-’… The sixth Element, that my new friends have shown me, is Life!” As if they had been waiting, the pulsing Elements fire beams of green magic at Twisted, completely enveloping her in a cocoon of green fire, which quickly disperses to reveal her wearing a tiara containing a gem glowing so brightly it obscures its own shape, and when the beams die, they also reveal that the fragments had reshaped themselves, their gems also glowing too brightly to be seen.

“No! How?!” Queen Husk cries, now cowering at the base of the wasp statue.

“Queen Husk…” Twisted looks down at the shivering body as she is lifted into the air alongside the others. “-the Elements of Unity reveal to us Changelings the aspects of Love, and as we Changelings should know, if you are not loved…” Twisted once more closes her eyes as she puts her foretarsi over her heart, then spreads them out as she looks at her new friends on either side of her. “-if you don’t have love in your heart for others…” With finality, Twisted thrusts her right foretarsus to point at Queen Husk before shouting, “-you might as well be dead!”

With this cry, the room explodes in magic, blinding everyling for a split second, then the shock hits, leaving nine bodies lying motionless under a statue of two wasps facing each other, their legs intertwined.

The first to come to is Twisted Spare, groaning as she pulls herself to her legs; the floor immediately around her is barely lighted by her still-glowing Element, which had somehow kept itself firmly on her head. Glancing around, she can see the other five Bearers are also beginning to wake, as she can see by the movements of the dull pinpoints of green, too weak to light anything. “Is everyling okay?”

“Thinkin’ so.”
“I don’t… feel hurt.”
“Yeppie-!… Maybe.”
“You mean besides the fact I feel as if I’ll have to shed now, too?”
“Ha-! As if-! Urgh… -a little explosion could hurt me!”
“I don’t suppose that question’s directed at me, too… Is it?”
“Indeed, my dear student, I believe everyling is going to be very well, now.”

Twisted’s breath catches, her mind barely daring to believe the voice she had just heard as belonging to whom she knows it must belong, at least until her Queen lights up her horn from where she still lays, revealing her slightly battered form, smiling gently, proudly. “Q-… Chrysalis!” Twisted abandons the title in her whirlwind of emotions, and the next thing she knows she has her forelegs around Chrysalis’s neck, squeezing as tightly as she can; whether she had ran or teleported to her Queen’s side, she cannot tell.

The other five newly-minted Bearers climb to their tarsi and step forward slightly bowed, much more aware of their Queen’s status than Twisted. “Ah, my little Changelings…” She smiles more widely, upon taking notice of them, then stands slowly, letting Twisted ease herself from Chrysalis’s neck. “I cannot tell you how far beyond any simple happiness and pride your success makes me feel. You will be remembered to the end of time for what you have done here.”

Grinning or gaping, wordless, the six look between each other, and finally take note of the Elements—rather, their homes—particularly their shapes. The black stone of their form, barely discernable against their chitin, hold green gems of various shapes: On Proxyhack’s neck are two triangles, one on top of the other, slightly staggered, pointing left and right; on Photoshape’s are two squares, a smaller one “supporting” a larger one; on Piccy’s is an arch enclosing a pair of Changeling wings; on Forgery’s is a circle “balancing” on the tip of a diamond; on Repeat’s are two curving lines, folding over each other in a two dimensional representation of a double helix; and on Twisted’s tiara is a heart, divided into six parts.

A soft scraping sound against the silence draws all seven’s attention to the corner where Tsep had retreated. “My Queen!” Tsep stumbles in his haste to stand and bow as Queen Chrysalis makes her way toward him, smile fading but not disappearing—the only thing he notices is that she’s not smiling nearly as much as before. “This foolish… quisling drone… is willing to accept his punishment.” He sighs his resignation as he prostrates himself, clenching his eyes shut, not wishing to see sure death come rushing at him; even when the only thing he feels is a soft spell easing the pain in his hindlegs he daren’t believe he’s going to be going home intact, if I get to go home at all…

“As long as you call me your Queen, you are no quisling,” Chrysalis announces, using a weak pull of magic to lift Tsep’s head up; his eyes open wide to stare into nothingness in the distance, too amazed to sense anything else but relief.

“My Queen, are ya sure-” PH begins.

“The Bearer of the Element of Forgiveness saw fit to overlook his transgression in the context of the direness of the situation. Who am I to ignore her council, even if she didn’t know she was giving it?… -but even if that weren’t so, I saw everything through my own eyes; my sister couldn’t stop that. I know what led you, Tsep, to act as you did… perhaps better than you think…” she finishes in a murmur so quiet only Tsep can hear, but she also lifts her muzzle and narrows her eyes slightly, curiously, which draws Twisted’s attention—it’s not often, after all, that a being older than the Goddesses comes across something that would invoke such a reaction.

Something else niggles the student’s mind, however—something with more substance that she can latch onto. “Your… sister?!” She cries in surprise, for though Queen Husk had said as much, Twisted had discounted it as a poor attempt at planting a seed of doubt in her love for her Queen.

“My dear student, I know how you look up to me, and-… and I wish you knew-… I’ve made so many unwise, even dangerous, decisions in my shame. -in the name of preserving my memories of the sister I grew up with… Now-” She looks up from Twisted to the base of the statues. “-please stop pretending and tell me whether all the hopes I’d clung to for these millennia were in vain or not, sister!”

For a moment, the seven Changelings standing around their Queen blink, then turn to the forgotten ninth figure, still laying motionless but for her even, sleep-like breathing. Then, with no apparent movement or magic, her body jumps into the air, her eyes opening wide in the same moment. Like a cat, she readjusts herself in midair, landing with a thump into a crouch. Before the Bearers can begin forming a defensive line, the other Queen’s fearful, confused tone makes them step back instead. “Chrysalis? You-?… I didn’t-? I was-? How long was-?”

Husk’s last question is interrupted not by herself, but Chrysalis rushing to hug her. “A second would have been too long without you by my side! Worry not about punishment; I know the Hatred inside of you has left and is no more—only your body attacked me, not you.” Her voice wavers with such emotion, leaving the mortal Changelings (minus Twisted) incredulous, having always viewed their Queen with power and might that take her above such things, but before this reunion they cannot help but succumb to the display of love and sigh in joy for their Queen’s happiness.

- - - -

A quick teleportation back to Fangville, and an announcement from Queen Chrysalis on her sister’s behavior is all that’s needed for the hive—always trusting of their Queen—to accept Husk as the long-lost second half of The Hive with Two Queens. Though they wonder where Queen Husk’s supposed hatred-eating army is, they do so silently, most figuring that they had been dealt with as well.

Twisted, basking in the overwhelming emotions of the celebrations, smirks upon noticing a few Changelings trying to convince others to try what must be Piccy’s love-infused pony food. Piccy… What’s her full name, again? Will I even ever see her again, after tomorrow? Twisted sighs, abruptly feeling oppressed by the overabundant cheer all around her.

“What could possibly have you looking so down with so much to be glad about, my dear student?” Twisted jolts at Queen Chrysalis’s appearance, so sudden she would have believed she had teleported if not for the path cleared behind Chrysalis, lined by Changelings just rising out of bows.

“I’m… thinking about how I’ll have to leave my friends tomorrow. -so soon after…” Twisted sighs. “-everything.”

“Oh, Twisted Spare…” Queen Chrysalis smiles and shakes her head slowly, knowingly. “What made you believe you have to leave them?” With a question on Twisted tongue, the Queen forges on. “I told you, did I not? ‘There is so much more to young Changeling’s life’… I wrote that, did I not? You also said it yourself, very well, I must add, about how the Elements of Unity teach us about love…”

“My Queen!?” Twisted urges, excited.

“-so I want you to stay here with your fellow Element Bearers, and send me letters about their lessons on love.”

Trying to bow but then thinking better of hugging, Twisted awkwardly trips, launching herself forward, coming to rest with her lips on Chrysalis’s right foretarsus. Knowing it was an accident, she playfully lifts the “kissed” tarsus. “Twisted! There’s no need of thanks of such a degrading caliber…!” she teases. If she had skin, Twisted knows she would have been blushing as she raises herself back to her tarsi. “Now, I think you have some very good news to share with your friends…?” Chrysalis then prompts with a wave of the still-lifted leg.

Not a second after Twisted’s departure, Chrysalis is met with her sister, grimly frowning, carrying a gasping Lovebreeder. “She says there is dire news from Equestria…” Husk whispers after teleporting them to the quiet entrance to the Petualoose Mines.

“Yes! … Yes…” The worker tries to speak between gasps—no doubt she had traveled a long way. “The-… The Elements of Harmony… rea-…-wake! Night-… Nightmare Moon returned… but defeated! Goddess of… Moon stands with Sun… again!” Her critical message finally delivered, her breathing starts to slow, but soon she realizes her company and looks frantically between the two Queens.

“Queen Husk, my sister, has returned and stands once more by my side, as well, as have The Elements of Unity found new Bearers,” Chrysalis quickly informs, bringing a smile to the Changeling that had been overloaded with fear just seconds before. “You should join the festivities,” she offers with a gentle smile, but also pointed glance; the Lovebreeder is quick to comply.

“Sister, don’t think after all this time I don’t remember that look. What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking… the answer to all our problems may have fallen right into our hive… or it will soon enough.” Queen Chrysalis answers cryptically before returning to the Carnival and pretending to enjoy the party while rebuffing all of Husk’s further questions.

Author's Notes:

Trivia:

One of the things I didn’t care so much about in the pilot episodes was how it just skipped over the ponies agreeing to go with Twilight. I get time restraints and all, but I feel like Twilight would have been more insistent about going alone, and some of the characters Rarity would have at least expressed more hesitation instead of just calmly trotting into the forest after a quip from AJ, so that’s why I added that extra scene of the ponies Changelings actually having a serious discussion about helping with this very-definitely-potentially-fatal mission.

Something much slighter that bothered me about this episode is how “clean” the falling-down-the-cliff scene was. I’ve fallen down hills (minus the cliff at the end) like that before, and it makes you tumble, not go sliding down smoothly on your back.

The original plan was to write an original song for Piccy/ask someone to please-please-please-pleeeeease write a song for her for me for this story, but I eventually decided it would not only be easier for her to sing Pinkie’s songs, I thought it might be funnier, too, in a “broken fourth wall” way, as it should be for Pinkie/Piccy.

The use of the term “quisling” was inspired by the use of it in Prodigy, which I found neat, even if it doesn’t really make sense beyond the “-ling” part.

As you’ve probably gathered by now, yes, Tsep will be taking the place of “Spike”/Gaze as Forgery’s romantic interest (Forgery/Tsep?… Forsep!), because I hate even the canon infatuation Spike has with Rarity… because he is, as we’re constantly told, a baby! Not even “a toddler” or “a young boy”, but a baby! Gah! Just typing that-! So… creepy…

Episode 9: Sidle Gossip

Trotting at a pleasant pace through Fangville, Twisted Spare lifts her muzzle to sniff at the air, hoping to catch a wisp of Piccy’s cooking; the Swarmincorporator had said she’d mastered a new pastry called “muffins” and invited all the Bearers over for a taste. Twisted had attempted to gather how a muffin is different from a cupcake, but aside from the absence of frosting, Twisted hadn’t gotten the idea—such doesn’t matter to her, though, seeing as how it’s the love inside that really makes the flavor of the cupcake… or muffin, as the case may be.

I must still be too far away. Twisted sighs in disappointment, but when she looks back down, something that had been working its way into the back of her mind comes into focus. “Huh? … Where is everyling?”

Gaze, walking behind her, bumps into her when she stops to look around, worry quickly growing. “What do you mean, Twis? Everyling… is-…” He stops as he looks around and takes note of the distinct lack of any wings buzzing or tarsi slapping against stone; his panic builds much faster. “It must be a- a- a… zom-ling!”

This only serves to defuse Twisted’s concern. “Did you just take the word ‘zompony’ and try to make a word for ‘Changeling zompony’?” She rolls her eyes as she continues on. “Zomponies don’t exist; if anyone were to know they did, it would be Changelings, after all! I’m sure there’s a perfectly rational explanation for this.” Twisted finishes confidently, not at all easing Gaze, who gulps and continues to turn her head left and right every few seconds.

As they come within sight of Piccy’s residence, Gaze finds his words once more. “I’m not so sure… Why else would everyling just-?”

“Psssst! Gaze! Twis! Over here!” Piccy’s unmistakable voice comes in a stage whisper. Her anxious tone confuses instead of alarms, as she intended, making Twisted stop and tilt her head.

“Uh, yeah, Piccy… We’re coming. Are those, uh, ‘moffeen’ things ready?” Twisted mentally shrugs off the fact Piccy apparently thought the student of Queen Chrysalis couldn’t remember simple directions to a building.

“Hurry-yyyyyy!” The Swarmincorporator continues to whisper, suddenly throwing open her door and launching out her leg—which grows impossibly long—to grab the two and pull them in as Piccy’s leg shrinks back to normal size without any evidence of magic being used.

Twisted blinks, nonplused for a second before dismissing the inexplicable act under all the much more crazy things Piccy had managed to do since (and presumably before) they had met. “Anyway… So! About those… ‘muffnans’?” Twisted prompts by rolling her foreleg as if beckoning someling towards herself.

“Shhh! -and they’re called muffins!” Piccy continues using her faux-undertone.

Twisted continues to maintain an average volume. “Why have you dispelled the light enchantments? Why are the curtains pulled? Why are you whis-”

“Shhh!” someling else—Forgery—interrupts. “Do you want her to hear you?!”

Letting out one last exasperated sigh that heralds a flurry of shushes, Twisted concedes to whispering. “Who’s ‘her’, and why don’t we want her to hear us? -and who’s all here, sitting in the dark for no reason?”

“It ain’t for ‘no reason’!” Proxyhack grumbles. “We’re hidin’ from… her. Ooo, sayin’ her name’s bad, bad luck, but if’n ya really don’t know, bein’ a Buzzingtonian an’ all… She’s… Lquadm!”

“She’s over here if ya wan’na see ’er!” comes Proxy Germ’s high, nymph voice from a window, behinds its curtains, under which she had ducked to peek outside.

“Git away from there, now!” PH swoops in and pulls her younger sister into the relative center of the room. Why, oh, why won’t ya show proper fear of that thing, Germy…? The older sister shakes her head at the foolish, sometimes dangerous naïveté of youth.

“Lqua-?”

“Don’t say the name!” Forgery jumps forward to put a tarsus in Twisted’s mouth. “’Tis bad enough it was spoken once already! Just… see her for yourself, if you feel you must… which, if I know you well enough, I’m sure you do.”

Deciding to follow the locals’ advice for now, Twisted creeps up to the window at which Germ had been, and where now Repeat Design is peeking out the crack in the curtains. Bravely following their leader, the other Bearers, minus PH, sneak behind her; Repeat notices this and pulls the curtain enough for them all to see.

Upon first sight of what must be Lquadm—for she’s the only thing out and about—Twisted’s breath catches. In the light of the lamps, she shimmers with her coat of fish-like scales; the silver of her belly shifts to a light sea green on her back, speckled with dots of various blue and more silver. Her face is streamlined—less like ponies’, as Changelings’ are, and more like a fish’s or, given by the hint of many sharp teeth poking from under her upper lip, more like a shark’s, but her face still has slight contours (especially where the “muzzle” meets the eyes, turning sharply to form a forehead no shark ever had) that provide a hint of equine-ness. Her ears, as tiny as they are, are still prominent on her mane-less head; in the mane’s place is a fin-like structure that can, apparently, be raised and lowered at will, and which extends from the top of her head to about the middle of her back. Her fleshy, muscular tail is longer than any pony could hope to grow their hair, and thins gradually, ending in a reversed heterocercal caudal fin. The most pony-like part of her, her legs, house pectoral and pelvic fins. Further indicating her predatory nature, her eyes are slightly (but very definitely) turned more forward than a pony’s or Changelings, providing a wider area of stereoscopic vision, and lastly, semitransparent haws are revealed by a blink of same.

When Twisted manages to catch her breath, she gasps loudly in surprise and excitement—mostly excitement—despite symptoms of lightheadedness beginning to haze her thoughts and beg her to breathe deeply and regularly. This, presumably, draws Lquadm’s attention, for she jerks her head to look directly towards the window; its curtains are now closed, but fluttering with damning evidence.

Inside and under the window, Twisted struggles against everyling, minus Germ, holding her muzzle shut with tarsi and magic. Finally, she throws them off by teleporting a meter to the side. “What is… wrong with you-lings?!” In her fuming, Twisted momentarily forgets Lquadm and the (supposed) need for whispering.

“Shhh! Didn’t you see? She glanced this way!” Photoshape whispers.

“She glanced eeee-evilly this way!” Piccy corrects dramatically to nods and murmurs of agreement from everyling except Twisted and Germ, who look at each other to share an eyeroll; unfortunately, Proxyhack notices this.

“Now see here, my precious Germ…” PH crawls towards Germ before standing to put a protective tarsus on her elytra. “You should listen to you big sister when she tells you something is dangerous!”

“She’s not dangerous! I’m gun’na prove it!” Germ makes to go for the door, but her big sister keeps a firm hold with the sticky bottom of the tarsus on the hard, easy-to-grip elytra.

“You will not, and I will make you stay if you force me to! Walkin’ out with that… thing out there is… why, it’s like walkin’ inta Canterlot an’ just droppin’ yer disguise in the middle a’ the street! Ya wouldn’ do that, would’jya?” A hint of a smile comes to her muzzle for a second at thinking up this no doubt unassailable argument.

“Lquadm is not a ‘thing’!” Twisted bursts out indignantly, and the other Bearers jump at the name. “She’s a Kelpie… She’s practically family!” She points out, struck by inspiration at recalling the Proxy family reunion and the obviously family-oriented-ness of her friend.

“‘practically family’, huh?” Proxyhack levels a deadpan, disbelieving stare for a moment before asking what feels to her to be the obvious question. “How? I don’t see no similarity ’cept the fact we’re both in the same cave: Fangville. Did you see any fangs on that thi-… that Kelpie?” she corrects reluctantly at Twisted preemptively narrowed eyes.

“We might not look all that similar, but that’s hardly surprising considering Changelings and Kelpies are both Pretenders,” Twisted explains calmly, but only gathers blank looks. Really? She sighs before going on. “Changelings are part of a group of creatures called ‘Pretenders’ because we-” Green fire raises a randomly chosen disguise of a mulberry unicorn with sapphire, violet and pink hair and a Cutie Mark of six stars. “-pretend to be something we’re not!” She lowers the disguise. “Kelpies do the same thing!” Twisted finishes as she steps back up to the window, but she finds that Lquadm had left the line of sight of the building. “I wonder what she’s doing here...” She mutters to herself. “I’ve read that Kelpies rarely leave the water except to hunt or find a new home…”

“Kelpies can disguise themselves? -but I didn’t see a horn…” Forgery asks.

“Oh, That’s because they don’t need one!” Twisted exclaims, always excited to spread (or show off) her knowledge. “They use their scales and fins to refract light into an illusion!… -somehow. The book wasn’t very clear on that point…” She finishes somewhat sheepishly, now embarrassed by her lack of knowledge.

“Uhm…” Photoshape attempts and fails to interject. Her eyes are wide and her legs shiver with sudden fear.

“‘Refract light’? Well, I can’t imagine why she would ‘refract’ those… polka dots! Has she no sense?!” Forgery posits as she joins Twisted at the window to help herself see the Kelpie standing there in her mind’s eye.

“Uh…!”

Twisted rolls her eyes. “What you saw was her natural coloration patterns; it camouflages her against sea water and lake and river beds. Unlike Changelings, Kelpies don’t always use disguises to trick their prey.”

“Can I just-?!”

“I knew it!” Piccy bursts out, jumping forward and pointing at Twisted’s face, close enough to make the other pull back involuntarily in anticipation of getting hit.

“What do you-?” Twisted tries to ask, but Piccy jumps away just as suddenly and begins performing jump scares on everyling as she sings what the excitable, perpetually happy Changeling imagines to be a frightening song.

“She’s an evil enchantress; she does evil dances,
“And if you look deep in her eyes, she will put you in trances!
“Then what will she do? She’ll mix up an evil brew,
“Then she’ll gobble you up in a big, tasty stew!
“S-oooooooo watch out!”

While the other Bearers shiver, no doubt believing every word of this “warning” is true, Twisted shakes her head, smiling in superiority. “Silly Piccy, Kelpies eat their prey raw. They don’t cook anything into ‘stews’!” She actually chuckles at the idea before adding in a mumble, “Whatever those are…”

“Uh, when you say, ‘eat their prey raw,’ you mean, like, they eat love, or whatever emotion they eat, unprocessed, right?” Repeat Design asks, seemingly hopefully, but her nervous elytra betrays that she already strongly suspects otherwise.

“Huh? No.” Twisted answers with a raised brow, confused that her wording could be misunderstood, not noticing Repeat’s nervousness. “Kelpies are carnivores; they eat flesh.”

At this affirmation of their fears, the Bearers take in a deep breath and hold it; Photoshape takes this at her opportunity to finally speak. “Uhm… you said that Kelpies rarely leave water except… to hunt, so does that… mean-?”

“Oh!” Twisted almost laughs at where she knows Photoshape is going, and quickly interrupts her. “No. No no no no no. They would never! Like I said, they’re practically family! Every-Pretender knows we have to stick together, since no-Prey would ever help us! -or at least I thought every-Pretender knew…” Twisted mutters, eyeing the Pretenders before her, so inexplicably afraid of another Pretender.

“Well, we didn’t know…” Repeat grumbles, snapping her elytra in annoyance at herself before perking her antennae. “Which means L- she might not know, either!”

Interrupting the gasps of fear going all about her, Twisted cries, “Hold on! Just think for a second with me. Has anyling gone missing since Lquadm has moved here?”

“Lings’re always goin’ missin’ in the Mines!” PH reminds.

“Where she lives!” Forgery adds, knowing Twisted wouldn’t know. “Who’s to know how many disappearances are because of her… eating them!” Grimaces of queasiness round the room at this—while Changelings in general might be able to overlook the ingestion of plant matter, anything more makes them uneasy; not even are they okay with “herbivores” like ponies consuming bugs or fish, likening it to murder since it’s completely unnecessary for such beings, and even omnivorous creatures, as far as Changelings consider, should do without as they can. However, carnivores are a completely different class of creature—in fact, the idea of a “sapient carnivore” had never been entertained by a Fangvillian before that moment, and even then it’s a little too difficult for them to integrate such a thing into their world-view. Carnivores murder to eat and live—a far cry from how Changelings feed, which doesn’t even require the death of plants, only a little trickery or a dream! Whenever Changelings compare themselves to other creatures, it is almost always brought up that their complete lack of needing to kill their food to survive is a powerful ethical point in their favor.

Twisted shakes her head. “What about anyling going missing in town, on days she’s here?!” She doesn’t wait for an answer, knowing no such thing had happened, otherwise Queen Chrysalis would have heard and done something already. “You don’t think that if she really wanted to eat a Changeling, she would be stopped by everyling hiding where she knows they would be? Kelpies have a really good sense of smell; hiding out of sight isn’t doing anything to stop her from knowing exactly where everyling is.”

“-but… she has done… some things!” Forgery tries to insist.

“Like what?” Twisted finds it’s her turn to deadpan.

“Well, once a month, she comes into Fangville on the exact same day and time…” Repeat tries to make this sound spooky and unexplainable, but Twisted doesn’t even find this worthy of a response beyond a long stare.

Forgery attempts to come to the rescue. “Then she lurks around the stores!”

Twisted rolls her eyes. I have feeling those muscles are going to get a lot of exercise today… “You ever thought she was going to the stores, wanting to buy something, but she can’t because everyling closes up when she comes by!?” Her voice gets progressively louder and accusative, making Forgery shrink in on herself a little.

“Oh! -and she digs at the ground!… -like this.” Photoshape demonstrates the movement against the stone floor, and Repeat, always needing to fix these holes where the rock is soft enough to be scraped away by the Kelpie’s hooves, nods vigorously at this indictment.

“Well, Kelpies do live in water…” Twisted shakes her head slowly. “I can’t say for certain, but maybe this digging is a way to find sources of water? It could be a subconscious action Kelpies always do when out of water that Lquadm can’t stop herself from doing because she’s hardly aware she’s doing it, like how Changelings are naturally attracted to shadows that look like cave entrances when we’re on the surface…” Twisted muses, then shakes her head harder to return herself to the present argument. “Either way, I’m one-hundred percent certain the worst we have to worry about is that maybe Lquadm could get hungry enough to steal one of the ponies under Photoshape’s care, but that hasn’t happened either, has it?” Twisted smiles at the Ponytender, just as confident this hasn’t happened as she is that Lquadm hasn’t hunted any Changelings.

Far from looking reassured, Photoshape freezes, eyes wide. “N-N-N-No, but… I always block off my cave on days she comes into town, but-… but today-! I forgot because I never come in to town on days she visits, but when Piccy invited-!”

“Gah!” Piccy grips her head between her foretarsi and wails at the ceiling. “I forgot, too! I’m so, so super-duper sorry, Photo!” When Piccy looks back down, her eyes are filled with an unreasonable amount of tears that shocks Photoshape into stillness.

“We got’ta make sure that carnivore ain’t sneakin’ away with one’a Photo’s ponies!” PH calls to order, pumping a foreleg.

“Yeah!” Repeat follows, boosting morale and adrenaline. In the next instant, the six Bearers burst out into the still ghost town-like Fangville, crying a war charge—Twisted following only to make sure the others don’t do something they’ll regret.

Back in the Swarmincorporator’s office, Gaze and Proxy Germ stare at the left-open door, then glance at each other and shrug. “I’m gon’na get a muffin. You comin’?” the cockatrice asks pointing over his shoulder with a feather.

“Nah.” Germ shakes her head, waits for him to enter the kitchen (the only room of its kind in all of Melipoland), then slips silently out. I know yer right, Twisted, but the others still don’t see it, so someling’s got’ta prove it, and that someling’s gon’na be me!

- - - -

Thankfully, Lquadm had already begun to head for the Petualoose Mines, but had been close enough to the Swarmincorporator office for Germ to easily find. So far the nymph had followed far enough behind to hide around the corners of buildings, but soon enough—as she had known must happen—the buildings stop within a certain perimeter around the Mines’ entrance. Taking only a moment to swallow the fear she knows is unreasonable, Germ steps into the open to continue following the Kelpie, and this does not, as Germ had expected, cause the carnivore to turn around. At first she smiles, but then recalls what Twisted had said about their sense of smell, which only causes a tiny moment of panic. She probably knew all along I was followin’ her! -an’ she hasn’ done nothin’! Smiling, confident again, she steps up her pace to get a little closer so as not to get lost in the Mines.

She needn’t really have bothered, for they only encounter two forks, the first being the one that splits the Mines from Photoshape’s chambers (Germ lights her horn as they enter the Mines, thinking correctly that Lquadm, without a horn, must be able to see well in the dark), and at the second fork, they take the one that doesn’t lead to the (now dead) giant pitcher plant’s chamber. The entire time the Kelpie doesn’t look back at the one following her, even as Germ inches closer and closer.

Soon enough they come upon a series of strange runes that give off a faint orange light—too faint to light anything but the runes themselves. Curiously, Germ moves up to the left wall to inspect them more closely, but cannot discern what meaning they might contain. So engrossed in them is she that she doesn’t notice the sounds of the Kelpie’s hoofsteps and tail sliding across the rock floor stopping until she steps on something that definitely isn’t rock.

“Gwah!” she cries in surprise, jumping backwards, then realizes a split second later: Lquadm’s tail! “I’m so sorry, Ms. Lquadm!” Germ, shivering at the thought of being chewed to pieces by the Kelpie’s serrated teeth, bows. Nothing happens, and after a moment, she slowly looks up to see Lquadm hadn’t moved except to lift one of her forelegs and turn her head slightly to look at the nymph out of the corner of an eye.

Upon Germ looking up, Lquadm slowly lowers her foreleg, making sure its movement catches Germ’s attention. That’s when Germ sees it: Just where Lquadm had stopped, the runes turn into a mess of lines that turn only at ninety degree angles, crisscrossing over each other and multiplying to cover the ceiling and floor as well as the walls. Also, just where Lquadm had stepped is a blank area where the lines leave a comparatively large square. A few more steps from the Kelpie, and the idea begins to form in the nymph’s mind. She’s bein’ careful not to touch those lines! Only when Germ nods does Lquadm turn her head forward once more.

Though they have to weave left and right and sometimes backtrack, slowing them greatly, Germ carefully steps exactly where Lquadm does, and the Kelpie is equally careful in selecting spots that the nymph’s shorter legs can reach, while always keeping her own tail off the ground and away from the walls. Now practically right behind Lquadm, Germ begins to consider striking up a conversation, but the need to avoid the lines takes too much concentration, and she’s not sure how to start. How’m I suppose ta make friends with some-Kelpie that’s shunned by mah whole town? she worries. What should I say?

“Oh!” This time Germ had made sure to keep part of her mind on the present; her thoughts had been interrupted by coming to the edge of a body of water. She notices the cave must have been sloped very gently, as here it now slopes into a submerged tunnel that suddenly falls a little ways in into a deep, completely underwater cave. The orange lines stop about two meters from the “shore”. Wow… She slipped into that water without a sound! “Uh…” is all Germ is capable of upon noticing Lquadm had turned around in the water to face the nymph; only her head is above the water, her tail undulates slowly and her pectoral and pelvic fins flick occasionally to keep herself in place.

“So… is this where ya’ll live?” Germ ventures; she had never heard of anyling saying anything about Lquadm talking, so there is still the question of whether she’s capable. Though Germ had been brave in asserting Lquadm’s harmlessness (at least towards Changelings), she could not escape all the prejudices of her culture, so she asked herself, Who ever heard of a carnivore that could talk? Can she even understan’ me?

The second question at least seems to be answered sufficiently when Lquadm shakes her head slowly once to each side. Then Germ’s eyes widen in suspense, both fearful of being eaten and excited at the potential of speech, when Lquadm opens her mouth, revealing all her many, many curved, sharp, serrated teeth seeming to point definitively towards her gullet. Any words she might have spoken, however, are interrupted when she closes her mouth, and points her ears forward at the quickly growing sound of buzzing and stomping. Then there’s a cry of, “The Kelpie must have gone this way! There wasn’t any water that way, remember?!” from whom can only be Twisted Spare (she and the other Bearers had been told of Germ’s disappearance by Gaze, who had rushed to Photoshape’s after realizing Germ was missing and where she must have gone).

After that, it’s not long before the entire Elements of Unity come into view, lighted by Twisted’s and Proxyhack’s horns. Upon seeing Germ apparently whole and in no distress, all six let out heavy, relieved sighs and settle their wings, landing amongst the orange lines; Twisted glances at the lines curiously, but quickly turns away, easily deciding the scene before her is more important. Germ’s eyes widen upon seeing one of Twisted’s tarsi touch a line. “Uhm… Everyling? You might-”

“Don’t say a word, nymph!” Proxyhack scolds, making Germ flinch at the absence of her name; whereas ponies might use full (embarrassing) names to inform their young how angry they are, Changelings go to the opposite extreme—some might even continue using nymph after their young reach adulthood.

“-but-!”

“Not. another. word! -unless you want to be grounded for two months!” PH growls as the six approach Germ. In order to keep herself from crying out in indignation, Germ stuffs her foretarsi into her mouth.

Upon reaching the shore, the movement of the Kelpie’s fins finally catch PH’s attention; in an instant she fires off a bolt of magic lightning, but the Kelpie’s refined predatory reflexes makes it easy for her to dodge—she dives and the bolt vanishes when it hits the surface of the water without leaving sparks or even a flash of light. Still, the light from the bolt itself momentarily blinds everyling, and by the time they can see clearly again, the Kelpie had disappeared. Ya scared her! Germ wants to accuse, but she forces herself to bite her tarsi harder instead.

As PH takes Germ and clamps her onto her back with her elytra like she’s a grub that can’t walk yet, Twisted stares into the water, but she’s not looking for Lquadm, as she knows that if a Kelpie doesn’t want to be seen underwater, it won’t be. Water that doesn’t conduct electricity?

“You!” PH yells and points at the water. “Why can’t you just take a hint an’ stay away! I swear I better not see you anywhere near Fangville again, or you’ll regret it!”

No response comes from the water.

After about a minute of waiting, Proxyhack turns around with a huff and begins to lead the way back out; watching the others step on the orange lines makes Germ whimper from the safety of PH’s back.

Behind them, Lquadm rises above the water again, then, in sudden inspiration, flicks her head-fin upright, flinging droplets of water down the cave to sprinkle the Changelings. Their response is immediate: They all turn in the same moment, wings buzzing from the wetness and their agitation. Before they can berate her more, she quickly gives her warning. “I would take care where I step if I was you, unless you want to hear the thoughts of those at your side.” With that, she once more slips under the water and disappears.

Repeat still growls back, “Well, if I was you, I’d watch where you and your stupid curse step in Fangville, otherwise you’ll be hearing the sound of me pounding your head in!”

Twisted sighs before delivering her tired line. “Curses. Don’t. Exist. They’re nothing more than scary phrases and smoke and mirrors meant to prey on superstitions! They don’t have any actual power beyond the nocebo effect—in other words, any power you let them have over you.” Not waiting for the argument she knows is coming, Twisted turns her back and takes the lead.

“Oh, you’re suppose ta be so smart, Miss I’m-the-Queen’s-personal-student, but you mark my words: You’ll see!” PH huffs at the lack of a reaction before taking up the rear.

- - - -

Completely undaunted by Lquadm’s supposed curse, Twisted sleeps easily, at least through most of the night. Her dreams begin simple, with her sitting comfortably with Queen Chrysalis in her private chambers in the Castle, demonstrating some magic for her teacher. However, afterward she finishes and is sitting with her before a nice fire, a rumbling shakes the room and the walls disappear, revealing darkness beyond, then the floor goes, leaving Twisted to fall.

She doesn’t wake, but instead finds herself sliding down an incline made of soft, fluffy material—somewhere along the lines, Chrysalis had disappeared, leaving her alone. Flying off a cliff, Twisted is flipped by momentum, and sees that she had apparently been sliding down the icing of a giant cupcake. She doesn’t have long to contemplate this turn of events, for a lake materializes under her, and an equally giant Kelpie rises out of the water into the path of Twisted’s fall and opens it’s jaws. She closes her eyes just before she lands on its tongue-!

-and hits hard rock. Twisted is instantly roused by the pain radiating through the shoulder that had taken the hit when she had rolled off the bed in her disturbed sleep. As she pulls herself back onto the bed and sits with a foretarsus to her head, she thinks to herself, What a nightmare… and could have sworn she heard many other unidentifiable voices say the same thing at exactly the same moment. “Is someling here?” she calls, waking Gaze.

“Mm… Wha-hm? Twis?”

“It’s nothing, Gaze. Go back to sleep.” Twisted sighs. Is Gaze here? Why? What am I thinking? He lives here! What? No he doesn’t. He lives with Twisted, in the library. Exactly. Besides the fact Twisted is me, that’s also where I am. No, it’s not! -and I’m Proxyhack/Photoshape/Repeat/Forgery/Piccy! … … … I think I better see Twisted about this. I am Twisted! Gah! Why can’t I stop thinking!? Twisted clutches her head, barely able to distinguish her own thoughts from the foreign ones.

Besides breathing heavily from fighting a rising tide of panic, Twisted isn’t moving, focusing on keeping her mind completely blank—Unfortunately, being the type of worker she is, she can’t stop the inevitable conclusion from ringing clear. Don’t tell me… this is-… As she struggles to come up with any other explanation, the other thoughts invade once more, burying her own thinking processes. Well, what is it?! What is what? Stop it! I can’t think! It hurts! Stop thinking for me! What hurts? Who hurts?! Who do ya think? I do, of course! It’s my head—who else do ya think is here?! Huh? I dun’no, but I don’ feeling nothin’… No! Just stop thinking so I can focus on getting to Twisted’s!

Even though Twisted remains seated and quite frozen on her bed, she can feel “her” wings buzzing and legs galloping, as well as, for lack of a better term, “presences” beginning to make their way toward her—in only a few seconds, the “movements” stop, but the sense of presences remain, even though they’re now staying still. Woah. Holey mane(1), what was that?! I felt like my wings were buzzin’ when they weren’t! What? No. I felt like I was galloping when I wasn’t! Oh, my… Can both of you voices in my head stop arguing, please? I’m not a voice in anyling’s head! I’m me! Oh, I’m sorry if I offended you. I just wanted you to stop arguing. Hmph! Fine!

Now hyperventilating, Twisted jumps off the bed and steps into the library so she can pace and buzz her wings in distress without disturbing Gaze, but still she feels as if she has more sets of wings and legs moving desynchronized. Don’t think about anything. Don’t think about anything. Don’t think about anything. Don’t think about anything. The many voices chant, and Twisted almost gives in and lends her own mental voice, but she knows she can’t. No! I hope I’m wrong, but—Stop thinking!—I need to know—Stop!—for sure. Proxyhack? Yes? Yes what? I’m PH. No! No, I’m not! Repeat Design? Yes! That’s who I-! Photoshape? I’m… here? Wait. I think I get it. Oo oo oo! Me, too! Get what?! Stopitstopitstopitstopit! Calm down, please! I think our minds have been connected somehow, and you’re making it hard for me—Twisted—to think! Alright, everyling, you heard her: Stop thinking so she can fix this, please. Okie-dokie! I usually don’t think a lot anyway! I still don’t understand what’s happening! Ain’t it obvious what’s happenin’? That Kelpie cursed us! No no no! There’s a rational—real!—explanation to this! You just have to let me think! Fine, but only because I know ye’r gon’na have ta come to the same conclusion anyway, since it’s tha only one an’ all!

Lifting a few choice books from the shelves and levitating them before herself, Twisted flips through them all at once, speedreading several passages at nearly the same time (but actually merely switching between them multiple times a second). Even though she manages to push the distraction of legs and wings moving independent of herself, she doesn’t get far before the mental complaints come again. Ohhh, that smarts… Twisted, all’a yer sciency thinkin’ is givin’ me a headache! Yeah… no… kidding…! What’s wrong? I feel fine! I can’t help but concur… with being given a headache, that is. Would you mind not thinking so… uhm, intensely? Oh, no… No! Now your headaches are giving me a headache! “Gah!” Vocally letting out her pain and frustration, Twisted beats her foretarsi against the sides of her own head, letting the books fall to the floor.

Twisted lets herself fall to the floor, frustrated that she can barely think of anything but how the blood pumping through her head renews her pain, only to let it recede for a second before pounding through her brain once more. She whimpers to herself, and only registers the others have finally arrived by the feeling of a “phantom” leg of another pushing open her door. Immediately, she speaks the only conclusion she can come up with. “I think… the only thing we can do is write to Chrysalis. She’ll be able to sort this out…” Twisted turns back to whimpering, worrying about how disappointed Chrysalis will be that her supposed friends couldn’t over come their differences when forced to share their thoughts.

“Twis… stop!” Piccy tries to yell, but her volume is more along the lines of Photoshape’s, as she shakes Twisted back into the present. Glancing around, she immediately realizes that her rapid decent into such depressed thoughts had everyling crying silently with her. Before anyling can say anything else, another bursts into the library: Proxyhack’s big brother, Proxy Trunk.

“Sis, are you-?! Germ’s gone missing!” Even being such a big, strong Changeling as he is, Trunk knows he can’t fight the mysteriousness of the Petualoose Mines; he’d already reached the same conclusion PH is just now arriving to, as she’d told him last night about Germ’s little adventure with the Kelpie.

“Ohhh… That… Kelpie…-!” PH growls, her furry seeping into the others via their new connection, which Twisted immediately begins fighting.

“PH, we can’t do anything while we’re like this! We have to write that letter to Queen Chrysalis so she can sort us out!” Proxy Trunk blinks and silently sits, confused by the phrase “like this” for, as far as he can tell, nothing is different about his sis and the other Element Bearers.

“No! We can’t wait for her! That carnivore could be preparin’ to eat ’er right now!” Yeah! I agree. As much as I don’t like conflict, I don’t we should wait… Sorry, Twisted… “Thank ya, everyling.” PH responds out loud to the others’ mental support, further confusing Trunk, but a hint begins to form in his quiet, wise mind. “You see here, Twis? We’re goin’ whether you come with or not…”

“I c’n write a letter.” Trunk unexpectedly offers. “Ya’ll should go.”

Yeah, Trunk! Comin’ to tha rescue! What’ta ya think’a that, Twis? Trunk don’t need ta know what’s wrong to tell the Queen we need help! I guess there’s no reason not to go, now… Then let’s stop wasting time! Repeat Design leaps out the door Trunk had left open, buzzing impatiently around the portal. Come on! Like Hack said, Lquadm could be tasting Germ right now! Ugh, please don’t think her name… Saying it is bad enough! Don’t worry about it! After today, she’s not going to bother anyling again, because we’re going to make sure of that, right!? Yeah! They mentally cheer, and this time Twisted can’t help but get caught up in the others’ adrenaline as they barrel through town past confused early-bird-lings to the entrance of the Mines.

- - - -

“Okay… Well, this was where we saw Lquadm disappear yesterday…” Twisted needlessly (but in lack of anything else to do) reminds them out loud, not at all keen on using their mental connection to communicate everything, and she completely ignores their gasps. Currently, they’re standing in the cave with the orange lines, trying to look as far as they can into the submerged part of the cave as they buzz their wings in anticipation and annoyance. One of the many reasons Changelings live underground (and have buildings with ceilings) is that they hate getting their wings wet about as much as Daring Do hates getting caught in quicksand—it’s very, very, very frustrating and irritating, but not actually dangerous, or even worrisome in damaging their ability to fly.

“I don’t think we have any choice, everyling…” Twisted eventually decides, then, with only a tiny difficulty thanks to her intense training under Queen Chrysalis, transforms into Lquadm (she being the only Kelpie Twisted knows). A Changeling transforming into any kind of pony, even an Alicorn, is an easy thing because there’s no addition of parts: a horn is a horn, and while the wings might be different, it rarely takes even a week to adapt. However, Kelpies are an entirely different being; while Twisted naturally doesn’t suddenly crave meat anymore than a Changeling disguised as a pony craves hay, the other strange biology has Twisted frozen for a second, wondering if she’ll even be able to move the new parts.

It turns out to be an unfounded worry, as she, in fact, easily finds the necessary muscles to flex her new fins, but she shivers at the alien sensations of their movement, then shivers again when the fins brush against the side of her belly and tail; being connected to her thoughts, the others shiver in synchronicity. Feeling slightly braver after this initial success, Twisted turns attention to her tail, first waving it gently with low amplitude, letting it drag against the floor, then lifting it up to thrash it wildly so that at times it curves sharply inward and slaps her side.

Lastly and most subtly, she finally realizes how her breathing feels different, knowing her lungs must have changed in some way to allow her to breathe water as well as air—just what they need to pursue the Kelpie. Contrary to most stories about Changelings that Prey tell each other, Changelings do not need to know how something is constructed to copy it, they only need to have seen it work on a living “specimen”; even if a Changeling doesn’t consciously realize the complexities of what is seen, the spell is much more intricate than simply bringing a visualized form to life. After taking the creature’s form, all the Changeling has to do is learn how to use any new body parts. Of course, the Bearers won’t have to relearn how to breathe, but Twisted suspects they’ll have to get comfortable with the idea of having lungs full of water in addition to learning how to swim with all of the fishy attachments.

With the stretching out of the new form’s muscles done, Twisted steps up to the water, taking a deep breath as she stares into her reflection. Facing away from them, she still feels the other five nod, encouraging her onward. Jerking her mind back to thoughts of Germ, she steps into the water, marveling for a moment at how the water slips around her legs. It must be some kind of Kelpie magic… Inherent, like Earth pony magic, maybe? Maybe, but I think I speak for everyling when I say we’d apprec’yate it if ya didn’t think about that right now! Indeed. Nodding, Twisted pushes such thoughts away before leaping forward into where the cave falls sharply into deeper waters—just as she had expected, the surface ripples much less than it should have. -or it could be the water that’s strange, given how it repelled that lightning spell yesterday… Twisted! Sorry!

The first breath of water knocks the five still standing on shore to the ground, gagging in futile attempts to force nonexistent water out of their lungs. Focused on not letting the others’ panic overtake her thoughts, Twisted allows herself to drift to the floor of the submerged area as she breathes deeply, trying to transmit calmness to combat their panic. In sudden inspiration, also thinking about Proxy Germ helps them stand once more, nod, and copy Twisted transformation; where usually not all of them would be experienced enough to perform such a drastic change, Twisted’s execution provides their minds with the perfect demonstration.

Slipping into the water in turn, the Kelpie-disguised Changelings attempt to walk along the floor of the cave, having never swam their entire combined lives, but the buoyancy the water adds to every step makes it an agonizingly slow process. So, hesitantly at first, they begin to propel themselves by their tails, and slowly learn how to steer with the fins of their legs and heads, but not slowly in the relative sense, for, unknown to them, their connection allows them to learn how to swim as a Kelpie six times faster than any Changeling would be able to do alone.

Its not long after they become as comfortable as they can be in the water when they come across a fork. What do you think, Twis? They naturally turn to the Queen’s student for guidance, and thought they are not able to distinguish whose thoughts are whose due to the lack of vocal inflections, they are able to tell who is who even though their Kelpie disguises are (naturally) perfectly identical. Twisted attempts to tap in to any latent Kelpie instinct or magic that might be able to tell her something about which way to go (Water Currents? Scents?) but nothing comes to her; she shakes her head. It seems the only option is to split up. I guess this whole mind thing was actually a blessing in disguise, since we’ll be able to sense where everyling is! Maybe… none’a this still wouldn’t’a happened if Germ had just listened! We know, but it’s happened, and now we have to deal with it, so will you just let it go!

Without needing organized thoughts, they split into Twisted, Proxy, and Forgery going one way, and Repeat, Photoshape, and Piccy going the other. Almost instantly, however, the caves began to split even more into a veritable maze, leaving them all on their own paths, forming a mental map with their connected consciousness. If you find Lquadm, don’t engage! Instead, if you run into her or any other trouble, just call out your name, and the rest of us will be able to track you down through the connection, alright? Alright!

From there, it takes very little time for Lquadm to be found. Ooo! Here! Here! Here! I fou-uuu-nd her! Oh, right! Almost forgot! It’s Piccy! Yeah, I think we all guessed that, Pic. Do ya see Germ?! Hmm… nopie, but I can’t see the whole cave. Remember: Don’t go in there alone, Piccy! I remembered. As everyling else turns around to get to her, Piccy balances between too close and too far away, trying to spy on the Kelpie. I was right! My song was right! She’s doing an evil dance! Piccy, she could just be exercising or performing a ritual. -which isn’t necessarily evil! Twisted quickly adds, correctly suspecting the Fangvillians’ superstitions.

Fine enough, Twisted, but what about Germ, huh? Ya got’ta know there ain’t no way she could’a swam by herself, an’ she could’n’a got lost in jus’ two caves! I… know! -but… there has to be another explanation. What “other explanation” is there? Hones’ly, Twis, I haven’ heard ya come up with any! I know, but-… There ain’t no “but”s, an’ you know it, so why don’ ya just admit it! Look… PH shakes her head and Twisted sighs. Listen, Twis, I know ya were so excited to meet a Kelpie an’ all, (even though I don’ know why…) but even if all carnivores aren’t evil, this. one. is. … I… … guess… you’re right.

-but still I wonder… What kind of ritual could she be performing? Twisted only idly asks herself, and the others have enough presence not to answer with something aggressive or sarcastic. Once all six have collected before the still unaware, still dancing Lquadm, Twisted pulls herself out of her mussing and looks up at the Kelpie, narrowing her eyes at it. Okay… On three, everyling. One. Two. Three! Instantly, they move as one, their tails undulating in perfect synchrony so as not to interfere with each other’s movements, and they jump out of the water into another dry part of the cave that Lquadm apparently calls home.

The place looks quite bare at first glance. The only things that stand out are a line of hooks right next to the entrance from which hang a couple towels and a number of wooden boxes stacked up on the opposite side of the roughly circular room. Only because of their number do the many slabs of stone, planks of wood, and preserved leaves seem unremarkable at first sight; many are covered with symbols drawn in chalk, though there are stacks of apparently yet-to-be-used stones, planks, and leaves in the back of the room, while the ones in use line the walls, except the leaves, which hang from strings crisscrossing the ceiling. Also in the back of the room is another cave, which appears to split off into three after a short ways, but there’s nothing else that can be seen that way.

In half-instinct, the Bearers flare their head-fins in aggression, flicking a veritable rain (if a very short rain) across the chamber. Instantly, Lquadm stops her dance, and her eyes widen, but she’s not looking at the runes on which she been performing her ritual; in many places the chalk had dissolved where the droplets had landed. “No…” Lquadm breathes, turning to the stones, planks, and leaves where other runes had been partially erased “No. No! No!” She shouts before abandoning her dance and rushing to collect the ruined charms, arranging them on the floor.

Quite nonplussed by the Kelpie as she completely ignores them in favor of grabbing some chalk by her mouth out of one of the wooden boxes, the six turn to each other, brows raising in silent questioning or pulling together confusion. They remain like this for a moment as the Kelpie frantically yet futilely attempts to rewrite the still-wet runes as she grumbles to herself incomprehensibly around the chalk.

“Hey!” PH yells for the Kelpie’s attention, which she indeed gets, causing her to pause when her eyes are momentarily drawn to the teeth she can see past the lips that are parted by the chalk. In an attempt to pull her courage back to herself, she drops the Kelpie disguise, hoping the flash of fire frightens the Kelpie in turn, but all that happens is that the water that still coating the back of Proxyhack’s Kelpie disguise splashes onto her wings, making her wince before buzzing them at a high almost-whine. “I’ll only ask ya kin’ly once: What have you done to Proxy Germ?!”

Lquadm shakes her head before carefully spitting the chalk onto one of her hooves and looking up, obviously annoyed. “Done? -to Proxy Germ? I have done nothing but bring her here! -but you? What have you done?!” She points the chalk accusatively. “You’ve ruined my charms!”

“Charms-shmarms… You mean curses! -and now we know you’ve nymph-napped Germ!” Repeat points in turn, keeping her disguise after seeing what happened to PH. At her side, Twisted focus on continuing to glare at the Kelpie while mentally rolling her eyes and giving a short lecture. Repeat, a charm is just a remnant of a ritual meant to maintain a continuous effect until the charm is destroyed; a charm is not necessarily evil—or good—either! Whatever, Twis! That’s not important right now!

“‘Curses’? I won’t respond to such a foalish claim! ‘nymph-napped’? Is this what this break-in to my home about? She came here telling me, ‘I think ma’ sis an’ all a ’er friends need help!’” The Kelpie retorts, mimicking the nymph’s voice where she quotes her. In her raising anger, she also stomps the hoof still holding the chalk, crushing it to dust; in the next instant, she jumps back as if electrocuted and cries out upon seeing how the chalk dust blots out an entire rune. “Gah! No! Now I will have to again start from the beginning! So much work… I must ask now that you leave!”

“I ain’t leaving without my sister, you carnivore!” Proxyhack growls, stomping in turn.

“-and while it may not be a ‘curse’, technically…-” Forgery adds with a snort.

“-we know you did something to connect our heads!” Piccy finishes.

“I didn’t want to believe it at first…” Twisted shakes her head, then steps forward, head down as if to point her horn at Lquadm. “-but there’s no other explanation!”

As the Bearers say their points, Lquadm steps back, looking more and more surprised. “‘no other explanation’ is what you say? Truly? Did you not see those runes in the cave?” Lquadm offers reasonably, trying to calm herself as much as the intruders.

“Runes that you drew and enchanted, I’d-!” Repeat begins to accuse, making Lquadm put a hoof to her forehead in aggravation at the Changelings’ insistence of her guilt.

“Charmed,” Twisted cuts in to correct, deadpan. “‘-drew and charmed-’. Enchantments are-”

“Whatever!” Repeat rears and shouts to the ceiling before shooting a glare at Twisted then turning back to Lquadm. “Whatever it’s technically called, we know you did it, and you’re gon’na undo it or else!”

“‘-or else’… ‘-or else’!?” The Kelpie raises her upper lip to show off her teeth. “Impulsive Changelings like you would do well to learn quick how the ways of the world beyond your caves work! Unless you can read my charms,” she warns as she pulls an plank with a not-ruined charm across her chest, “-you’d do best not to be doing all you can to earn my wrath!”

Before anyone can do or say anything else, Germ steps out of the cave behind Lquadm, carrying a book in her magic and calling out cheerfully, “Ms. Lquadm, I think I found that book you-!” She stops at the entrance of the room, tilting her head. “Huh? Sis? What are you doin’ here?! -an’ who are those other Kelpies?” Germ directs the last question at Lquadm as she steps into the relative center of the room, next to the real Kelpie, obviously mistaking those still disguised as Kelpie visitors.

Despite her unfinished confrontation with the other Changelings, Lquadm easily leaves the anger out of her voice when addressing Germ, earning a growl from PH. “Can you not see, Germ, they are me? They are Proxyhack’s friends, in disguise so they could swim here, I assume. -and why are they here? They come to ruin my work and accuse me of nymph-napping you and for ‘cursing’ them!”

“Dang it!” PH stomps both foretarsi in annoyance. “We jus’ got through tellin’ ya it don’ matter what it’s called! What’chya did is what’chya did, and we know it! Simple as that! The truth don’t need no fancy wordin’!” she insists and asserts with nods from the other five, Twisted being hesitant for only half of a second.

“What?!” Germ leans away as if Lquadm had thrown an faint punch at her. “Don’t tell me you, too… uh, Twisted…?” Germ holds a tarsus to her muzzle, looking for any hint of which one the librarian might be.

Sighing, Twisted helpfully holds up a tarsus as if in class. “Yes, me, too, Germ. -and while we might have been wrong about the nymph-napping, this is a charm. I’d be able to recognize it in my sleep! You can’t tell me those runes back there weren’t charmed by Lquadm!”

“Jus’ watch me!” Germ takes a moment to grin cheekily before closing her eyes and nodding finitely once each for the two following words. “They. weren’t. They really weren’t! Those orange runes is an ancient charm from back when the Mines were… still bein’ mined!” She taps the book beside her. “This here book should have the… uh… anti-ritual?” Germ turns the tapping tarsus to her own chin in thought, looking up at the Kelpie for confirmation on the term.

“Indeed.” Lquadm flips through the book, and when she finds the ritual, taps the page. “Yes. ‘To make one’s mind one’s own again’; this should work… Hm… It is actually fortunate you are here.” Lquadm looks up at the Bearers. “This ritual requires all those afflicted to be present.”

“Now wait up a sec’!” PH jumps forward to put a tarsus over the page. “Ya’ll don’t expect us to just sit around while you do whatever freaky magic, do ya?!”

Behind her, Twisted sighs, putting a tarsus to her temple and shaking her head before saying half-heartedly, “Rituals and charms aren’t magic… Magic is energy channeled though a body part, like Changeling and unicorn horns and pegasus wings. Rituals and charms-”

“Twisted?!” PH rounds on her. “Don’t tell me yer buyin’ this now, too?!”

“What else do you want, Proxyhack? What they say explains everything! I can’t believe I didn’t think of this myself…” Twisted hangs her head, looking up at Lquadm like a scolded dog. “I’m sorry I thought so bad of you. I did let you being a carnivore influence my thoughts… can you forgive-?”

“Hold it!” Forgery steps forward and puts a leg between the Kelpie and the sorrowful Changeling. “She hasn’t explained everything!”

“Yeah!” Repeat waves a leg to indicate the room at large. “Like what’s up with all these charms and what that ritual’s for that you were doing when we came here!”

“-or why you come into Fangville…” Photoshape finally speaks for the first time since their arrival.

Even though she barely whispered, it’s Photoshape’s words that make Lquadm flinch and deflate, looking down at the floor. For a moment, all the Changelings can do is stare, whether in shock, confusion, or anger. Germ is the first to move and speak, lifting a tarsus to put comfortingly on Lquadm’s leg, where the fin grows. “Ms. Lquadm, ya don’-?”

“It’s okay.” Lquadm suddenly jumps to life, pulling her leg away from Germ’s touch, looking uncomfortable. “I’m okay. It’s-… The life of a carnivore… is very lonely. Kelpies only get together to-,” before continuing she glances down at Germ, then looks up at PH, “-‘you know’. My sire I never knew; my mother only cared for me and my siblings until she decided we learned enough of ‘the pony language’ to hunt them. I didn’t even have a name until yesterday! ‘Lquadm’ was definitely not an invention of mine or my mother’s. There’s no society, no culture… nothing beyond instinct to learn.” Realizing she was rambling, she rapidly shakes her head and looks up at Photoshape. “I got used to all of that a long time ago, but sometimes… I have nothing else to do, so I go into Fangville.

“The rituals and charms are tied to that, actually.” Lquadm then turns to Repeat, who’s losing her suspicion, thought Lquadm doesn’t seem to notice. “A Kelpie’s sense of smell is very strong; I can tell not only where Changelings are when I visit, but how many there are and even smell sickness on them, sometimes before they are aware. Every month, I take note, then come back here to perform rituals of health and quick recovery for the sick, and if I notice a Changeling missing, I perform rituals of luck to help them succeed in whatever they’re doing away from home and to help them come back safely. Also,-” Lquadm gives a slight nod when Forgery opens her mouth. “-I only visit once a month because that is the schedule I decided on after I saw it was futile to convince the Changelings I was not there to hunt them. I knew it wouldn’t be long before they spotted the pattern and would be able to prepare themselves to avoid me.”

“Al-…-right,” Repeat relents reluctantly, then asks, more curious than aggressive, though once more Lquadm doesn’t seem to notice. “You still haven’t answered what that ritual just now was… So?”

“Ah… another charm for someone I’ve come to understand is named… Tsep?” she half-asks, but the others shrug, as Tsep isn’t away or sick. “Whoever he is, he has been suffering for a very long time, but no matter what I do, the scent of sickness will not leave him… It is a scent I’ve encountered very rarely, so what afflicts him, I am not certain.” She watches as the others look between themselves, turning from disinterested to confused, except Forgery, who falls worried.

Sick?! What could it be? I’ve not noticed any symptoms… Me neither. I don’t think any of us have. Either it’s hiding, then, or he’s enduring it alone for… whatever reason. Oh! Poor Tsep! Putting on a brave face or unknowingly being stalked by an unseeable killer! Relax, Forgery. It might not be that bad. She could be mistaken that whoever it is is Tsep! -but if she’s right and it’s been as long as Lquadm says-! Oh, Tsep! Lquadm blinks and Germ merely tilts her head in confusion as Forgery seems to be fighting the urge to faint and the other Bearers turn amused or frustrated. “It is the charm.” Lquadm explains upon seeing Germ’s reaction out of the corner of her eyes. “It makes them share their thoughts, and it will get worse with time, so we should prepare.” She suddenly gets serious, and her words make the six grow still and worried for their fate.

- - - -

It takes little time for the space to be cleared, dried, and written on. The room is divided into seven sections: six triangular “pie-slices” arranged about the seventh piece, a hexagon. The hexagon is cramped full of runes while the triangles appear empty by comparison, but thankfully so, for each has to have exactly the same runes. Once done, the Bearers (now all undisguised and dried with Lquadm’s generously provided towels) arrange themselves inside the triangles, one per and sitting near the outer-most edges, and Lquadm steps into the hexagon, careful not to smudge the chalk.

With the Kelpie’s nod, the six stiffen, for they cannot move—besides blinking—for the ritual’s duration. In the next instant, she begins the dance. First, she walks in a circle in a slow crouch, appearing like the carnivore she is, then slowly she rises until she’s walking on her hind legs, tail curled up to keep balance. Coming to stand in the center of the hexagon, she freezes for a moment, then begins to weave her torso, letting herself slowly fall once more to all fours, at which point she weaves her neck and lowers her head until it nearly touches the floor. Noting how she moves, Germ, standing just off the chamber, in the cave that forks into three, thinks back to how she had avoided touching the orange lines, even with the very tip of her long tail.

With that part completed, she raises her head and walks swiftly—not running and always careful of the chalk—along the lines of Twisted’s triangle until she once more stands at the hexagon. Still facing away from Twisted, Lquadm then walks backwards directly towards her, keeping herself in line and following the ritual’s directions by first looking over her right shoulder, switching to her left shoulder half way to Twisted. Just before touching, Lquadm abruptly rears onto her hindlegs and switches direction to circle Twisted while twirling and her forehooves touching before her chest. As Lquadm circles, she pulls her forehooves apart slowly until they extend at a ninety degree angle from each other; at that, she stops spinning, raises her right forehoof and brings it down swiftly in the middle of her chest as if striking something she had been holding between her forehooves. Dropping back to all fours, she returns to the hexagon and repeats this for the other five.

When she returns to the hexagon for the last time, she swipes out one of the symbols, and in that same moment, the runes in the triangles disappear, and the Changelings’ minds are once more their own. Wow. That was… amazing. Twisted tentatively thinks, still half-expecting a mental response from someling despite her earlier conviction in Lquadm’s ritual skills. “Noling else heard that thought?” Twisted asks at the exact same moment as the other Bearers, which makes everyling laugh, and Germ hops forward to hug her sister.

Yes… Everyling is going to be okay once more. Lquadm nods, silent, and begins to sweep away the chalk with her tail, immediately drawing attention to herself. For a moment, she cleans in peace, but the absence of laughter—or any sound—invades her thoughts, making her look up and around, worried her assessment might be wrong. “Is there… something else you require?”

“Not e’zactly, Ms. Lquadm; we just…” Germ steps forward. “What are ya gon’na do now?”

“‘Do… now’?” Lquadm only blinks, slightly unsettling once more the Changelings around her thanks to her near-complete lack of social body language. “If you don’t require anything of me, then I will begin fixing the charms that were broken.” This makes the Bearers forget their discomfort in favor of embarrassment, but the Kelpie seems unaware, and it doesn’t seem likely this is her intention.

“No! I mean… ya help everyling, but what do they do? They run an’ hide an’ don’t talk to you! -don’t even thank you!” Germ works herself into a fight-ready stance, wings buzzing angrily; a calm tarsus from PH on her back reminds her of what she wanted to say. “What I mean is, I think it’s our turn to do somethin’ for you!”

“Indeed-y.” PH nods finitely, grinning at the Kelpie’s continued blank look. “One good turn deserves another, does it not?”

“‘One… good turn’?” Lquadm repeats, obviously not understanding the phrase.

“Yeah! Who knows where we’d be without you!” Repeat jumps forward, misunderstanding the Kelpie’s confusion.

“Oh, please, Repeat, don’t say something like that! I don’t want to think about it…” Forgery shivers and frowns before smiling more widely at Lquadm. “-and it’s all thanks to you it’s over!”

“Isn’t it… also ‘all thanks to me’ it started?” she asks, shooting Forgery’s smile away, then turning to Repeat. “‘Without me’ this wouldn’t have begun in the first place, yes? I was only correcting what I had done… I… thought?” The Changelings would have been inclined to laugh at this absurd misinterpretation of events if they hadn’t just witnessed Lquadm’s lack of humor; as it is, all they can do is stare.

“Snap out’ta it, everyling!” PH recovers first, stomping as like a judge calling for order. “Lquadm, ya could’n’ be further from the truth. It was us, thinkin’ an’ actin’ the way we did, that put us in that cauldron o’ trouble. None’a this would’a happened if we didn’t think you were gon’na eat Germ here and chased after ya, is what I’m sayin’. We’re at fault.” PH points at herself, then waves her tarsus around to indicate her friends while purposefully skipping over Germ. “So, as my li’l sis pointed out, we owe ya, and from Pretender to Pretender, that’s bondin’.”

“I’m sure you could ask anything of my sis an’ her friends and they’d do it, so what’da’ya want?” Germ asks excitedly, bouncing, making the others chuckle at the nymph’s antics.

“I-?… Nothing. There is nothing I need.”

“We’re not asking what you ‘need’.” Repeat rolls her eyes, causing another round of amusement, except in Germ, who narrows her eyes to scrutinize the Kelpie looking down at her.

“Hey… Why don’t’chya laugh?” Germ’s question silences them all, and Proxyhack looks frantic at the question that seems too easy to take as insulting.

“Preda- Carnivores don’t laugh. We simply can’t risk giving ourselves away if Prey does something funny while we’re hunting.” Lquadm shakes her head and looks up at the ruined charms. So much work…

“-but that doesn’t mean you’re incampi- incapla- in-cape-able, right? So, try! Come on!” Indeed, even as Lquadm tries to ignore the nymph in hopes she’ll lose interest (it worked with her mother when Lquadm was little), she still does find the young one’s naïve insistence comical.

“Okay… How does it go, again?” The Kelpie asks herself, prompting forth a round of accidental demonstrations. “Right… hhhh-ha.” Lquadm produces a breathy hiss-like sound before the release. “hee? hih? heh heh… hmm. Well, I… tried?” she offers.

“Hmm…” Is all Germ initially has to say as she rubs her chin in apparently deep thought. “Well, if that’s the best you can do, I guess it’s still a good thing ya won’t be scarin’ anyling by laughin’ evilly-like!” She nods once, definitively, then runs forward to hug Lquadm. “You’ll learn soon enough by, uh, exam-pill. Everyling likes to laugh!”

“Kah! Oooooo!” Piccy gasps, then revs up her wings to rush forward and grab both Germ and Lquadm. “You’re a genius, Germy. This’ll be my toughest and most rewarding job as Swarmincorporator ever! Welcome to the hive, L-!” Piccy stops, eyes wide, then jumps back, dropping the nymph and Kelpie as she looks around frantically but obviously not seeing anything. “L-… Q-… L-… A-… oh, no-ooooo! I can’t think of a nickname!” she cries, rearing up dramatically—too dramatically, for she falls on her back, but on purpose.

Secretly, Piccy smiles inwardly at the good-natured laughing of the others, but especially at the weak, uncertain, “Eh… heh,” from Lquadm. “‘Hive’?” She asks when the laughter begins to die and Piccy rolls onto her belly. “Are you sure? Would your Queen allow it? Do you really think you can get the Changelings to call me one of their own?—or even just to not be scared of me?”

“Relax…” Repeat scoffs, waving a tarsus unconcernedly. “Piccy is… weird, but everyling loves her, and especially they trust her. Believe me. I, of all-lings, should know.” She pulls herself up proudly and puts a tarsus to her thorax self-importantly. She’s only able to hold this pose for a moment before sticking a tongue out the side of her mouth and giggling—mostly thanks to Piccy sneaking under her and tickling her belly with her wings.

“Aww… Thanks, R.D.!”

“As for Queen Chrysalis and Queen Husk,” Twisted cuts in, “You let us worry about them, but I’m certain there’ll be no trouble with a non-Changeling Pretender being accepted!”

“For sure!” Proxyhack nods with a confident smirk. “‘The Hive with a Kelpie’ don’t sound no stranger than ‘The Hive with Two Queens’ ta me!” Once more they laugh—with another hesitant attempt by Lquadm—before taking the Kelpie’s form once more to swim home (Germ is carried by Lquadm as she had been taken to the Kelpie’s home before, with her occasionally breathing oxygen into the nymph after her Kelpie lungs separate it from the water).

- - - -

After stopping by Photoshape’s to dry off with her surprisingly plentiful selection of towels (She would have to clean herself often for working with wax-drenched ponies, I suppose, Twisted considers, shrugging off the oddity), the eight of them step into Fangville, Germ having insisted on riding on Lquadm’s back, and though she didn’t give a reason, her plan is exposed as soon as she puts a comforting tarsus on the side of Lquadm’s neck at the first scream.

“No-ooo! It’s… her! She’s back already! The carnivore!”
“Oh, what could she want!?”
“Look! She has the Elements of Unity under her spell!”
“The horror! Oooh, the horror! Ooooh-oh…” At the other’s announcement, one worker wails and moans as she lets herself fall, laying prone as she pants in fear of something she knows she cannot avert—even most of the others stop fleeing, looking back, frozen in terror, unable to do anything but watch the procession advance on the fallen worker.

They stop about three meters away, and everything stands still for a moment except the worker before them shivering. Twisted lifts a leg to step forward, but Piccy catches her eye, and the student relinquishes with tiny inclination of her head.

So, the Swarmincorporator advances and the worker’s breathing quickens. “Dizzy, you wan’na try one of my muffins?” She offers with a huge grin, the innocence of the request makes Dizzy look up, blinking, and soon she comes to the realization only “Fangville’s Piccy” would say such a thing—no carnivore controlling her could make her act so genuine.

With that, the Bearers, Germ, Lquadm, Gaze, Proxy Trunk (Twisted had made a trip back to the library; while Proxy Trunk had written a letter and Gaze sent it, the Queen had not yet responded), and Dizzy sit on a repurposed blanket at the edge of town—Piccy telling them it’s called a “picnic”, and that she wanted to try one as soon as she had read about them in one of her pony cookbooks. The original plan had been to set up in the center of town, but Twisted had insisted that the process of desensitizing Fangville to Lquadm be a little more realistic in approach. As if to prove her point, even though Dizzy had accepted Piccy’s invitation, she still waits for Lquadm to sit, at which point she instantly takes the direct opposite side of the blanket.

The Changelings all partake of the muffins (and still the difference from cupcakes eludes Twisted) while Gaze and Lquadm deny theirs, the cockatrice for having had plenty yesterday and the Kelpie… for the obvious reason. During a lull in the idle, friendly conversations (which Lquadm merely silently observes), Twisted is struck by inspiration, and decides to put her assistant’s free wings to work. “Gaze, take a letter to the Queen, please.”

“Alright!” He pulls a scroll and quill from that mysterious place inside his plumage. “Dear… Queen Chrysalis,” he starts off by himself.

“Today’s lesson isn’t just for me…” Twisted begins, looking over her fellow Bearers, then Dizzy. “-or even my closest friends, but all of Fangville. We’ve all learned, or will learn, that one’s biology, no matter how scary, dangerous, or alien, says nothing about what’s inside. Instead, it’s someling’s—or some-Kelpie’s—actions by which we should judge them, which means I think we’ll all be busy for a little while we make up for some hurtful things we’d done, but it’ll all be worth it in the end when we find a new friend. Your faithful student, Twisted Spare”

As Gaze finishes the letter, Dizzy shuffles her elytra self-consciously, and as he sends the letter on its way, she catches Lquadm staring at her in the corner of her eyes and looks up. In that moment, Dizzy’s remaining fear leaves her like water evaporating off her wings.

Author's Notes:

(1) This is a shortened swear derived from, “By the Queen’s holey mane!” There is a variation in the form of “By the Queen’s hairdo!” for slightly more polite company.

Trivia:

Yes, I removed the “don’t judge a book by its cover” parallel with “Supernaturals”… In other words, I skipped the boring and obvious analogy that took away screen time (however little) from the infinitely more interesting Zecora. Seriously, who doesn’t want to know more about Zecora?!