I include these ten chapters that you may understand how I came to be a chronicler of the changelings, the first in this modern era, and so understand what slight role I have played in their rich history.

Twenty years before Princess Luna's exile and the horrors that ensued, I had been assigned on scholarly exchange to that temple and pyramid infested land of Tanis which lay many days to the Southeast of my own home in Canterlot.

Despite being the capital city of a minor empire, the eponymous Tanis was largely an earth pony city with it's population of unicorns and pegasi numbering in the dozens; a splash in a sea of many thousands. Modest for a capital city, it had a tumbledown keep at it's center that had been whitewashed and decked in garish banners celebrating the town's heritage.

It's legacy was largely militaristic, which contrasted it's current status as an exotic center of learning. Classical architecture still shone as in it's prime even though it was half a millennium old. It's slate roofed and stuccoed modernity had burrowed itself into the ancient walls and ruins, repurposing ancient temple walls into the bounds of apartment blocks and market stalls with blatant disregard for the underlying history concealed beneath. It's defensive walls had become largely vestigial and it's guard slow and corpulent from lack of engagement.

Universities, specialized institutes and libraries made up the main focus of the town, indeed it's what drew me there.

When the Changelings swarmed in, the city was wholly and completely defenseless and I, better than anypony, knew it.

That's why I chose to take refuge in a nearby alley, because I knew their numbers, their tactics. If the Changelings had finally chosen to leave their own citadel in force to pillage the countryside there was buck all I could do about it.

I watched from my ignoble vantage, between a garbage can and a broken orange crate as that sinister army marched unchecked through the town. Chaos, screams and the clatter of battle echoed through the canyon-like alleyways. Certainly some brave ponies tried to oppose them, armed with shovels and axes, weapons of opportunity with limited reach. Being without magic or wings they were relegated to hoof to hoof combat. The drones of course, had both, and again I use that to justify my poltroonery. I am a scholar and a chronicler, not a warrior and my heroic death would do little to beat back the assault, and a considerable amount to inconvenience myself.

Two Changelings swooped down into the lane before me, cratering the ground in a spray of grit and shrapnel, knocking a quartet of the local guards ponies back on their plots as they tried to bring their cumbersome polearms to bear. With a brief burst of green magic emanating from a curved black horn they were stunned into unconsciousness and were left crumpled on the smooth flagstone without a further thought.

No attempt to restrain them was made, which I found odd, and I crept out of my hiding spot for a better view. In the close streets of the printer's district, ponies were strewn haphazardly as far as could be seen. The ones being cocooned had one thing in common, they were mares.

The work was fast, these were creatures who knew how to coordinate and cooperate seamlessly. They would wrap each subdued mare in a green shimmering ooze that the drones excreted from their mouths and shaped with clumsily effective magic. Then one of their comrades would scoop them up, heft the obscene bundle onto their back and buzz away on their ragged, wasp-like wings.

"Coward!" One of the mares screamed and I looked up as certainly as if she'd called my name. I can't deny that I felt the part still half concealed as I was. Her eyes blazed at me, urging me like a puppet to rise and without regard to my own wishes I did just that, and haltingly advanced, "Locus! You craven jackass! Get these abominations off of me!"

I slunk closer along a rough stucco wall, shrouded in shadow even in the harsh midday sun and I recognized this mare. Brush Stroke, one of those few unicorns, but what use did she put her magic to? Nothing more offensive than painting, and unless a barbed caricature would fend off her captors she was completely helpless.

My mind screamed the futility of my actions even as I left the relative safety of the wall, and stepped out into the glaring light, my hooves amateurishly cocked and my horn charging for a brief and spectacular fight.

By now there was a line of the black shelled soldiers all employed in various stages of binding their captives and removing them to Celestia knows where.

Dishearteningly they glanced my way, appraised me, and went back to their duties, ignoring me almost entirely.

Almost.

One of the drones wheeled on me and poked his hoof into my nose. It wasn't a punch but it was hard enough for me to lose my concentration and my horn fizzled out. My offensive magics were rather paltry anyhow and he probably spared me more embarrassment than he realized. He looked back to his comrade who had nearly finished trussing up the mare.

I knew her quite well. She was a friend, I suppose, who I'd unsuccessfully tried to flirt with early in my life in this horrid place. I chalked my lack of success up to me, an equinologist, and her, a painter, having little in common. In truth I was just awkward with mares and failed at any reasonable semblance of smalltalk. I was lucky to have ended up with the mare I did who was understanding of these failings. So long ago I had tried to play gallant with her every chance I got, so it pained me on many levels when the cocoon finally obscured her terrified eyes.

"Cut her loose, you can't have that one!" I made as if to advance towards her, to make some noble play to free her from her larval imprisonment, but was stopped short. The Changeling put his hoof on my withers and shoved me flat onto the ground, my legs collapsing underneath me.

Admittedly it was the minimum amount of force necessary and his message was clear. He was telling me that he knew who I was, treating me as respectfully as he was able, but I wouldn't be allowed to interfere. As soon as he'd held me down long enough for that point to sink in fully he released me, turned, and went back to his hateful work.

"Bastards!" I yelled to no response whatever.

I did not rise and could not bear to watch these activities any longer. I simply sat where I'd been placed in the center of the thoroughfare and shivered in impotent rage, my hooves firmly pressed over my eyes.

Betrayal screamed my mind. But it wasn't, not really. Just because I had lived in the same hive with these creatures for a time didn't mean I held any sway over them. It didn't mean I had any right to interfere. Just like then, I was only an observer here.

We herbivores have a skewed sense of morality. Plants don't go to war against us or scream and squeal as we deliver killing chomps that sever the tender leaf. It's easy to tout peaceful coexistence when your foodstuffs are vegetable rather than living, breathing creatures.

But even we acknowledge that carnivores require animal protein, there's little enough to be done about it. We aren't likely to chastise a bear (or a griffon for that matter) for eating a fish, or even a wolf for taking a rabbit or deer. It's in their nature and if we deny them their sustenance we would be killing them.

The whole thing is made simpler by the prey animal's non-sentience. Were they able and effective communicators, friends even, we would find the whole arrangement ghastly. That's the key difference in those relationships in nature and the one between the ponies and Changelings.

But we are not at the pinnacle of the food chain.

We are prey animals and without us that race of parasites dies.

Were I somepony else, that prospect would be acceptable, even preferable. But I knew the Changelings, too. Between that and my scientific training it would have been hypocritical in the extreme to see this act of predation as an entirely despicable act.

The other ponies, though, knew of my research and would ask for my assistance and, Celestia help me, I would assist. I would be right in the forefront when we counter attacked the hive and I would do my best to decimate them. I would take no joy in it, but regardless of my sympathies, I am a pony first and will fight alongside my fellows when that time came that I could lay down my sniveling and actually make a difference.

The screams and sounds of battle waned and soon there was only the buzz of wings and even they diminished as the invading horde retreated with their prizes.

When I rose and rejoined the world there were hardly any mobile ponies about and all the drones were gone. Galloping through the low slung city I headed towards the gothic edifice of the central university.

Along the way I noticed not a single mare in evidence and the stallions and colts, though stunned and stirring slowly and in a daze, were uninjured. I noticed not a single wound or serious injury in the crowd, though there were splashes of fresh, bright Changeling blood in several places, implying that though they hadn't left any visible corpses, they hadn't fared as well.

The desolate citizens were staggering to their hooves, propping themselves against those ancient walls, attempting to regain their senses that they might pursue their tormentors.

My opinion was that the Changelings had made a grave error. Taking all the mares, humiliating the stallions, called for one thing, even amongst the most peace loving creature that walked this land; Revenge, and swiftly. I knew that as soon as they had a chance to regroup they would march, en masse, on the hive itself with a hate and malice unrivaled by anything Tartarus could supply.

I had to get to the university where the leaders of this forthcoming raid would most certainly assemble, as I was a pony with a fresh and intimate knowledge of that hives defenses, interior and psychology. I didn't stop to check on the fallen on my way, trusting that they would recover and that there was next to nothing substantial I could do to assist them anyway.

Passing through the impressive front entrance found a half dozen notable ponies already assembling in the hallway to strategize and organize.

"Locus!" A grey coated old stallion hollered at me, "Just the pony we need right now!"

I didn't stop to talk but rather gestured that they should follow me and entered the first classroom.

It was a dimly lit, baroque arrangement, with heavy moldings and wainscoting throughout. Mismatched desks and benches were piled high and covered in dust in the back half of the sloped hall. The front half had a few tattered cushions, a teak desk and set of bookshelves occupied by kegs, tankards, mugs and the various accoutrements for brewing tea and coffee, testifying to the current use of the space, an informal lounge for the faculty. It had been abandoned as a classroom and used as storage before being retaken for it's current purpose.

There were only two objects in the room relevant to me, chalk and the chalkboard and I took up the one and set to marking up the other. I started talking as I drew and wrote.

"We've little enough time, as soon as the city recovers it's wits they'll insist on marching into battle and they will lose, don't doubt that for a moment." I said and the six grunted their agreement, another pony poked his head in, motioned to another still in the hall to enter and as I talked more trickled in, "We know where their hive is, however and I know it's layout and environs well enough to give us some advantage."

The hive had gone from a dreaded abomination to something the Tanisians had simply taken for granted. It had appeared nearly a century ago and instilled fear in the local inhabitants. They'd marched upon it only to have their forces defeated or captured, but that was long ago and it's impact was dulled by time. One generation told the next and they the next and they in turn grew complacent. It was almost a lark that sent me to study them directly, the first time it had been done by civilians. Their interests had been renewed when the hive's squat round structures had birthed a tall spire from it's core.

They'd sent me out with an invisibility cloak and a crude map, which show the extent to which they'd lost their fear for the Changelings. They treated it as if it were a wildlife expedition more than as if I were a military spy. I hadn't been especially keen on the idea but they extorted me into it using my scholarly exchange status as leverage.

Since I'd been the first in modernity to study them they couldn't have known that Changelings saw in a spectrum which rendered the invisibility cloak rather useless.

I pointed to a drawing of the Changeling's central spire, "The hive is built around this structure which serves as a throne room and main hall. That's where the vast majority of the drones will be. Down here at the bottom are these four nodular structures, each of which has a specific function but it's the one to the east that matters. That's where they would keep all of the prisoners cocooned and maintained to be used as fuel for the hive."

"How long do we have until the prisoners are...nonviable?" A mare I recognized as a lieutenant of the self defense force asked.

"On that front we have a long time." I shrugged, "They take good care of their prisoners. Not for kindness' sake, but because the longer they survive the more nourishment they can get from them. I'm not entirely uncertain that a pony couldn't live out a normal lifespan entirely within their hypnotic thrall. That's not important, though. Nopony is going to stand for this and if we don't act quickly and cohesively a lot of hotheads are going to go off half cocked and waste their efforts and their lives. We'll need everypony if we have any chance of succeeding."

There were now thirty or forty ponies, but the one I needed and dreaded, the Commander of the Self Defense Force himself, had yet to show up. I was just thinking of sending a messenger for him when he showed up in the doorway with a scowl on his face.

Commander Victory by name, he was a drab, pale green colored pegasus with a sandy mane. His visored blue hat and dress uniform were covered in medals, embroidered gold flourishes and rank insignia which made him into a garishly clashing display. But that's not why I disliked him. His temper and extreme officiousness were what turned me against him, but I needed him so I pretended as hard as I could that this wasn't the case.

He needed me too, but was too obtuse to realize it and so acted in his absurdly predictable manner.

He motioned to a pair of his soldiers to enter the hall, pointed a hoof at me and told them, "There's the traitor. Truss him up and we'll hang him at dawn."

"Ah, Pyrrhic, good of you to show up at last. I was getting worried I'd have to repeat myself." I smirked. This wasn't the first time he'd ordered somepony to string me up, and he would get no closer to it now than any other time he'd tried.

"Shut up, Locus. It's Commander Victory to you, we aren't on a first name basis, and you should call me Sir besides." He growled. His guards made like they were advancing, but were in actuality just waiting to be called off before they actually had to set about tying me up and hauling me off. They too had seen this farce before.

"I saw you with my own eyes this time, bowing down to those monsters as they hauled off our mares. It's beyond what can be explained just by being a yellow belly. I even saw one of them fake a punch and pretend to subdue you. Must have known I was watching. I thought a Changeling would be a better actor, though, because the whole thing was the poorest piece of theater I've ever seen."

"Ah, well it happens you're wrong there, Commander, sir. That Changeling did indeed subdue me with the merest little flick. I should like to emphasize that it was quite well placed and certainly it was intended to humiliate me and demonstrate the futility of my resisting."

I replied smoothly, "I'm not altogether grateful for your bringing up such a humbling experience when, clearly, I am a civilian and untrained for battle, else why would I so ardently rely upon your Self Defense Force?"

"Sir." I added belatedly.

At that he harrumphed and though not swayed by my flattery he still waved off his guards and I was once again reprieved. "Any stallion worth a damn would have stood and fought, I guess that just proves once again what a worthless gelding you are."

He glared around the room at the assembled ranks of professors, politicians, tradesmen and researchers, "That goes for the lot of you! Holing up here amongst your ivory towers yapping and scheming when there's bugs that need to be swatted! Shameful! Just disgraceful!"

A little point should be mentioned just now so one doesn't get the wrong idea. Despite stereotyping to the contrary not all pegasi are warlike louts, but so far as I've seen each and every Commander in their ranks had a similarly grating personality and a dislike for any they considered to be 'intellectuals.' To a large degree, the cost of having the Commander and his squadron of pegasi at the spearhead of our meager force, was placidly taking abuse of this sort, and we'd all grown used to it, thus our silence as his wrath exhausted itself. Speaking up at this point would just make anypony a lightning rod in his storm and it simply wasn't worth the bother.

Aside from this he actually knew he was in the wrong but couldn't help but to go through the blustery motions and saber rattling as a matter of course.

Pegasi, go figure. Militaristic and competitive to what limits harmony would stretch and often beyond, but brave and hopelessly loyal when the chips were down.

"Commander, your opinion of us not withstanding, do join us a moment." Musty Scroll, an earthpony professor said tactfully as soon as he sensed it would not cause a further outburst, "Locus was just pointing out the weaknesses of the Changeling's stronghold."

I was doing no such thing, the hive has no inherent weaknesses that I'd noticed, but I did have somewhat of a plan in mind. The Commander walked in, seated himself violently on an innocent cushion and motioned grandly for me to proceed.

"Yes, well, I was pointing out that the prisoners would all be detained in this structure." My hoof indicated the eastern dome.

"Why?" The Commander asked simply.

"Well..." I put my hoof to my chin, thought for a moment and realized that there may be a weakness after all, "There's a whole network, like veins, that drain the energy from their captives and redistributes it throughout the hive. It's integral with the structure, in fact it is the structure, but there's a choke point just here where the nodule connects to the main hive..."

"But what does that get us?" I was thinking on my hooves and really thought I was onto something but I just couldn't see the bigger picture. I was still scrambling for it, though. "If we sever the vein the prisoners will at least be awake, but still trapped in those cocoons, so that doesn't get us anywhere. It'll be hard to repair being that it's embedded so deep in the structure so they'll probably cut the pods down and move them to one of the other nodules rather than waste the time. That actually seems like a disadvantage because then the prisoners could be anywhere rather than all in one spot, plus it will be hard to get at in the first place..."

I trailed off having failed to pull a plausible plan out of my plot. Usually if I just kept rambling everything came together but I fell short this time until help came from that nemesis of mine.

Their queen being what she is I just couldn't fathom what use they had for so many mares, though. It went against all I knew about the Changelings that they would want them for breeding stock. I'm fairly certain, in fact, that it wouldn't even work.

"I've seen this hive of yours." Commander Victory pointed at my drawing, "But what's it made of? Black metal? Obsidian?"

"No no, nothing so exotic." I said, "It's made from protein excretions, sort of like spider silk. Close up it's texture resembles your hoof's and the structure is primarily hollow tubes of the stuff."

"Will it burn?"

"It will to an extent, but it has to be a pretty hot fire and it won't stay alight on it's own."

"But it will burn?"

"After a fashion."

Malicious, simple minded hate sparkled in his eye, "Sounds like a plan to me."