Caramel was sitting on the sofa, watching Sassaflash chat up a storm with Noteworthy, Berry Punch and Minuette. Lucky had invited just about everypony from their schooling days to his house for a reunion, and nearly everypony had come to Ponyville from wherever their lives had taken them, from all over Equestria. He’d not seen some of them for ages! There was Lyra, freshly graduated from the Canterlot School of Music, and Vinyl Scratch too, who was apparently not too far off from becoming a deejay.

However, even though he knew he should be catching up with everypony, he had eyes for only one.

Come on, Caramel, just tell her. You can do it!

But what if I can’t?

Oh, for crying out loud…

Why was he finding it so difficult all of a sudden? Up until a month ago, he was always perfectly normal around Sassaflash. But now, looking at her always made his heart flutter, and the thought of being her friend made him feel warm and fuzzy inside. And just the notion of being close to her filled him with… longing? Desire? Whatever it was, it also had the rather inconvenient side effect of the inability to form coherent sentences whenever he was talking directly to her.

It’s always been easy, so why is it so hard now?

“Dude, are you okay? Why aren’t you joining in?” asked a boisterous voice.

“Eh, what?” Caramel turned and saw Vinyl Scratch sitting next to him, spiky-maned and energetic as ever.

“Erm, nothing. Must’ve been something I ate.” He patted his belly and gestured towards the table, where the plates – once heaped with hay fries, roasted nuts, stir-fried vegetables, and all sorts of other goodies – only had a few measly scraps remaining after everypony was done with them. “The daisies tasted a bit off, I think.”

Vinyl’s magenta eyes narrowed, and Caramel shifted uncomfortably.

She’s not buying it.

Huh, weren’t her eyes red before? Must be wearing contacts.

Her eyes darted over to where Sash was giggling about something with Noteworthy and Cherry Berry, plus a couple of other mares whose names he couldn’t remember, then switched back to him. One of her eyebrows bent upwards, and the corners of her mouth curled ever so slightly.

“Oooh,” she cooed knowingly. “Finally, eh?”

“Finally what?” he asked.

“It’s cool. Best to move at your own pace!” she whispered, waggling her eyebrows and nudging him conspiratorially with an elbow.

Huh?

Before he could ask her what she was going on about, there came the sound of somepony hammering a hoof on the door.

“Open up in the name of Princess Celestia!” a stallion’s gruff voice shouted from outside.

A deafening silence settled over the house. But slowly, everypony began to murmur, some in curiosity, some in anxiety. It was already way past evening—few ponies had any business going about at such an hour.

“What’s going on out there?” Lucky’s voice drifted out from the back of the kitchen. “Be out in a minute—dessert is almost ready!”

“You have twenty seconds to comply, or we’ll break down the door!” the stallion bellowed once more. This time, magical amplification made his voice twice as loud.

Something crashed to the floor in the kitchen, and a frantic Lucky came dashing out and into the living room.

“Oh, hayseed, hayseed, hayseed…” Lucky muttered under his breath, quivering and sweating profusely. When he was a few steps away from the door, he paused, as if hesitating, then grinned awkwardly at everypony and said, “Okay guys, just let me do the talking. If they split us all up and ask anything about certain boxed goods or my whereabouts in the past thirty hours, just say that I was helping Pinkie Pie out at Sugarcube corner, okay?”

“Lucky, are you a criminal?” Minuette shrilled. “What in Equestria have you been doing to get the freaking Royal Guard on your tail?”

There was a chuckle by Caramel’s side, and he turned and saw that Vinyl was sporting an oddly enthusiastic grin at the prospect of Lucky getting arrested. She placed one hoof on her cheek, rested an elbow on the armrest and said, “Oh boy, I wanna see this! What’d you do, huh? Smoke some poison joke? Smuggle phoenix feathers?”

“Ten seconds!” came another shout from outside.

“Eh, heh heh… Just play it cool, guys. If we’re lucky, nopony else needs to get arrested.” Lucky wiped his brow with a hoof and gingerly touched the door handle.

“Nopony else? What has this got to do with us?” Berry Punch demanded.

“Oh gosh, I knew it. I knew that you’d get into this kind of mess one day,” Cherry Berry added, throwing her forelegs up in the air in exasperation. “Ever since day one, you’ve been getting into all kinds of hijinks and—”

Lucky had barely gotten the door open a crack when it suddenly glowed purple and swung inward with blinding speed, slamming into his shoulder before he could leap out of harm’s way. He toppled to the floor just as a grey unicorn guard clad in golden armour barged into the living room. His fierce, pale yellow eyes gazed on the prone form of his quarry, and Lucky was quickly engulfed in a purple aura and bodily lifted off the floor.

“Your days of breaking the law are over, criminal scum!” the guard growled at poor Lucky, who was cringing and quivering in his magical grasp. Then, as if noticing everypony else staring at the pair of them, he gave them all a brief glance, scowled and added, “And you’ll all be coming with me to the dungeons—accomplices are given no leniency in cases like this!”

“But… but… but… Oh, ponyfeathers.” Lyra leaped from her couch and stomped a hoof, tail flicking in bewilderment. “Okay, seriously, what they hay is going on here?”

“Yeah, we didn’t do anything. We don’t even know what he’s in trouble for!” Noteworthy shouted angrily.

“Chill, guys, chill. Stuff like this happens all the time in Canterlot,” Vinyl soothed, waving a hoof in one slow, fluid motion. When the guard shot her a stern look, she didn’t even flinch. “We’ll get our names cleared soon, no biggie.”

“Err, can I convince you to… you know, ease up a bit?” Lucky asked.

“Hmph. Give me names, and I might think about it.”

“Oh, you got it, Sir. It was him, her, and her!” Lucky rattled off, pointing a hoof at Caramel, Sassaflash and Vinyl in rapid succession. “They helped me do all of it!”

Caramel nearly choked on his breath in outrage. “Wait, what?” He had absolutely no idea what Lucky had done to get into such trouble, but to pull off a backstabbing stunt like that? It was unbelievable!

At the same time, Vinyl’s languid demeanour had suddenly turned rather ominous. “Lucky,” she intoned in a dangerously sweet voice, accompanied with an equally sadistic smile, “if you’re trying to frame me for any of your horse apples… you’d better hope that four-leafed clover on your butt means what everypony thinks it does, ‘cause you’re gonna need a lot of it.”

Everypony else, including Sash, was simply staring in silence.

Oh gosh, are we going to jail? What are Mom and Dad going to say?

Then, Lucky’s cheeks suddenly puffed up, and spittle flew from his lips as a hiss of air escaped him.

Caramel narrowed his eyes. Wait a minute…

The guard’s mouth twitched, and one corner of it curled upwards.

Oh. Caramel put a hoof to his face in shame as the aura around Lucky faded, and both stallions suddenly burst out laughing. Should’ve seen that coming; I thought that voice sounded a little phoney...

Lucky and the guard were rolling on the floor, guffawing and howling like a pair of hyenas. There were even tears at the corners of their eyes as they gasped for breath, clutching their bellies, but apparently couldn’t stop laughing their guts out.

Frowning, Lyra trotted over to the guard and yanked off his helmet with her magic. He made no move to resist, and she quickly snagged the buckles on the straps to the rest of his armour and unfastened them. As soon as the metal was all off of him, his grey coat turned a pure white, and his mane, tail and eyes reverted to the various hues of blue that everypony was so familiar with.

“You guys are immature fatheads. You know that, right?” Lyra growled.

The stallions only laughed harder as groans and snorts abounded from everypony present.

“You should’ve seen your faces!” Lucky said in a voice that had gone shrill with mirth and shortness of breath.

“I’ll admit, that was pretty good,” Vinyl conceded with a grin. “I’ll remember to get you guys back for that one day.”

“That was taking it a bit far, don’t you think?” Noteworthy said. “Are you even allowed to use the Princess’ name like that? Also, I don’t think you guards are allowed to use your gear when you’re off duty.”

Shining Armour coughed as the last snigger left him, then then slowly crawled back onto all fours. “No, you’re right. It’s sort of against regulations.” He paused to pant for a moment, then smiled and continued, “But I think I can put up with one round of disciplinary action just for old friends. I missed you guys.”

Some things never change—and that’s great. Caramel shook his head and grinned. “Nice to see you again, jerk.”

Everypony began crowding around Shining Armour, pelting him with questions about anything and everything to do with the royal guards and his life ever since they’d parted ways from school.

“You’re a little late,” Caramel heard Lucky say to Shining. “Dinner’s finished. I’m afraid I’ve only got dessert left.”

Shining waved it off. “That’s fine. I’ve got a present for you guys, hang on a moment.” He broke away from everypony and trotted out the front door.

He came back a moment later, levitating a pair of enormous barrels and a dozen or so flagons. “Took me a while to drag these all the way from Canterlot,” he said, patting one barrel proudly as he set them on the floor. “Only the best cider for you guys—the kind that real mares and stallions drink!”

“Can’t be much better than the stuff from Appleloosa,” Berry Punch commented.

“Oh?” Shining tossed a flagon towards her. “Try some before saying that. I’d bet just a couple of mugs will knock you off your hooves.”

Berry Punch deftly caught it, brandished it at him and smiled. “You and me, Shiny. First one down buys the other lunch for tomorrow.”

“You sure about that?”

“Careful, Shiny. She’s a bottomless pit,” said Lucky.

Shining rolled his eyes. “Sure, if you insist.” He tossed more flagons to everypony else and shouted, “Alright everypony, help yourselves; there’s plenty for all!”

Caramel’s head was swimming pleasantly. He’d lost count of how many mugs he’d had. Sash was curled up next to him, nestled up warmly against his back. They were both on the sofa. He couldn’t remember when she’d gotten so close to him, but all things considered, he really couldn’t complain.

“Hey… you awake?” He nudged her gently.

“Hmm? What?”

“You were pretty calm when Shining and Lucky pranked us. Were you in on it?”

Hey, I can talk! he realised. Apple cider really did work wonders; he could finally talk to Sash without tripping over every other word!

“Nah. I just had a feeling,” she replied, shifting her wings to a more comfortable position.

Caramel felt a tingle run up his spine as her feathers brushed against him.

Maybe it’s time…

He glanced around the living room. Vinyl was drumming up a lively beat on the empty barrels with her hooves as Lyra whistled in accompaniment. Lucky, Noteworthy, Minnuette and Cherry Berry were listening to them with varying degrees of rapture, sobriety and somnolence. Farther back, Shining Armour lay sprawled on the floor with his tongue lolling out, snoring gently as a tipsy, red-faced Berry Punch gloated over him. She didn’t seem to be aware that he was in no state to hear her, let alone admit defeat.

Might as well.

Caramel slid off the sofa, ignoring Sash’s half-hearted protests, landed on his rump, then wobbled to his hooves and grabbed an empty flagon. He thumped it on the wood repeatedly, until almost everypony was looking at him, then clambered up and stood on top of the table.

He cleared his throat. “Everypony, I, uh... have a really big announcement to make.”

Everypony leaned in closer to listen. Except Berry Punch. She was still talking to an unconscious Shining Armour.

Caramel turned back to look at Sash, who had tilted her head slightly in puzzlement. He took in a deep breath let it whoosh out. Then, he extended one hoof towards her and said, “Sash, will you be my... special somepony?”

She looked stunned for a moment. But slowly, a blush crept into her cheeks, and she spread her wings and fluttered over to stand by his side. She smiled and nuzzled him. “Yeah, sure.”

His ears began to ring with the chorus of cheers from everypony as they hugged each other, but the only thing he listened to was the resonant thumping of his and Sash’s hearts, beating together.

Caramel clung to the ceiling as he assessed the situation. He could see seven nymphs peering out from behind a rocky projection on the wall ahead. Off to one side, another five were clambering down a pillar in haste to get some distance from him. He felt his ears twitch slightly when they picked up the sounds of another two or three nymphs skittering off into the darker, older corners of the hatchery to hide amongst the clusters of egg shells.

He breathed in deep, then exhaled slowly.

One.

He took a step forward.

Two.

Through the corner of his eye, he glimpsed a nymph, Itch, leave the safety of cover to watch him, apparently convinced that he was going for somepony else. Caramel grinned.

Three. Ready or not…

“Here I come!”

He whirled round and broke into an upside-down dash, straight for the little changeling. Itch squeaked in alarm and bolted in the opposite direction. Caramel gave chase, dodging side to side as he wove in between stalactites. When the nymph squeezed through a gap in a cluster of coarse rock, he simply hopped onto the wall and carried on sideways, capering about with an ease that had come from days spent exploring every nook and cranny in the hatchery. He soon closed the distance, but just when he was upon her, she deftly switched directions and avoided his outstretched hoof. Itch chirped with glee as he failed to swing around quickly enough; she had gained a lot of distance.

Undaunted, Caramel continued to give chase, but was careful to keep track of the other nymphs. Even if the sounds of their movement didn’t give them away, he could practically taste their excitement. His quarry dashed past a group that had been milling about, and he promptly changed course and went after them instead. They scattered, and he singled out one for pursuit.

He recognised Stickle—the first nymph that he had met, and one that had become rather attached to him. He wasn’t about to let favouritism get in the way of a good chase, though! Caramel let loose a predatory snarl for good measure, and grinned when his little sibling squeaked in panic.

Stickle took a frantic turn and encountered a dead end. But where a pony would’ve been thoroughly trapped, he simply transferred his grip from the ceiling to the wall and zipped down like a really fast spider. Once on the ground, Stickle shot off beneath Caramel in the opposite direction.

He released the grip of his fore hooves on the ceiling, swung like a pendulum, then did the same with his hind hooves. He buzzed his wings to slow his fall just before he hit the floor, then broke into a gallop for his quarry. Stickle had made a mistake; Caramel was way faster on the ground than on the ceiling.

Their dash down the tunnel soon took them back into the central part of the hatchery, where some of the adults were tending the eggs. Stickle dashed past Thorax, skidded to a halt, then whirled round and clambered up his back, much to his surprise and annoyance.

“Thorax, help me!” Stickle squealed.

“Go look elsewhere,” the older changeling snapped.

Too late for that! Caramel thought. He was practically upon them.

Thorax’s demeanour changed to one of alarm when Caramel showed every sign of bowling into them. His eyes widened, and he uttered a changeling expletive when they were only a couple of tail-lengths apart. But before that happened, Caramel simply leapt over the changeling, eliciting a hiss of annoyance when his tail brushed his head. He landed behind him and promptly tapped Stickle with a hoof.

“Tag, you’re it!” he cried.

“Hey!” Stickle protested, but Caramel had already turned around, ready to dash off.

What the—

One of his hind hooves knocked into something hard, and he did a rather spectacular kind of running-hopping stumble before crashing into the ground. Luckily for him, his toughened skin was barely scratched. As he lay there trying to get the world to stop spinning around him, he felt something tap his rump.

“Tag, you’re it again!” Stickle crowed.

Caramel turned around and saw him skittering off, chirping gleefully. He could also hear the chittering laughter of the other nymphs nearby. As he got back onto his hooves, he surveyed the spot where he’d tripped, and then narrowed his eyes at Thorax in suspicion.

“You know, I’m pretty sure it wasn’t a rock that tripped me,” he said.

Thorax shrugged and began inspecting one of his hooves for parasites. “You’d be surprised. They appear when you least expect them,” he replied as he groomed himself. “Those rocks are awfully sneaky.”

Caramel chuckled. “You know; if you wanted to play you could’ve just asked.”

When Thorax didn’t answer, he shrugged and readied himself for another round of tag. He wasn’t going to let the kids get the better of him this time!

Something wet plopped onto Caramel’s snout. He opened a bleary eye and blinked in surprise when a drop of liquid splashed onto his nose. Some of it dribbled to his mouth, and he stuck his tongue out to get a taste.

Water?

He looked at the ceiling and saw a droplet forming on the tip of the stalactite directly above him. The rock was glistening with wetness, and the droplet swelled until it was too heavy and fell of its own accord. That was highly unusual. The hatchery was pretty dry all the time.

Caramel gently eased out of the pile of sleeping nymphs around him. Thorax wasn’t at his usual post, so he made his way to the central chamber instead. He found Overseer Tibia and a few other changelings meticulously cleaning the surfaces of un-hatched eggs.

Much to his surprise, he could see a few other wet spots on the ceiling where droplets of water were merrily dripping down, and the changeling grown-ups were completely ignoring them.

“Does it ever get this wet down here?” he asked.

The overseer gave him a brief glance before returning to work. “Only on occasion. It’s been raining for the past few days. Took the water long enough to reach this far down as it is.”

Caramel blinked. “Did you say days? I never saw even a drizzle when I was on my way here.”

“These storms are rare—it’s been years since we last had one. But when it does rain like this, the surface will be flooded.”

The water dripping from the ceiling suddenly seemed a tad ominous; it all had to go somewhere, didn’t it?

“Does the hive ever get flooded?” he asked.

Tibia shook her head. “If any water pools, it’ll only be in our reservoirs, like the pit that you were first housed in. Besides, it’s not the water itself that poses a danger to us; it’s what it brings up from below. Flooding sometimes drives diamond dogs into our tunnels. They might not have magic, but they do know how to fight.”

“That doesn’t sound like nothing to worry about,” Caramel opined. He’d heard stories that they could get rather violent when if they really felt like it. Personally, he didn’t want to be involved in a territorial dispute between the changelings and diamond dogs. Although, if they were to threaten the nymphs…

“That’s what Warrior Caste is for,” Tibia replied.

“Hmm.” Caramel wasn’t fully convinced, but then again, he wasn’t the expert. And the overseer’s brevity made it clear that it wasn’t his concern, either.

Oh well. He started making his way back to the nymphs. There was still a fair bit of time before the next cycle began, and he didn’t plan on wasting any time that could be spent sleeping.

He crept into the chamber with the still-sleeping nymphs and quietly lay down amongst them, taking care not to—

“Caramel, do you have another story?” asked a reedy voice.

—wake anyone up. Well, so much for that plan. He looked up and saw Stickle clinging to the ceiling, looking at him with wide, pleading eyes.

“Everyone’s sleeping,” he replied. “Maybe—”

There was a flash of green fire, and there was a pegasus colt hanging where the nymph had been a second ago. “Please?” Stickle asked again, pouting slightly.

Caramel rolled his eyes. He was familiar with that look by now. Besides the younger nymphs like Pith and Mite, Stickle was deeply fascinated by any story that involved ponies, griffons or dragons. It was in stark contrast to the fact that none of the adult changelings showed much interest in his stories, and it made him feel strangely proud of his foster siblings.

“Okay, okay,” he said, getting up and heading back out. “But not here. We don’t want to wake the others.”

“Yay!” Another green flash, and Stickle was back in his true form and skittering along. When they were out of earshot of the others, he asked, “What story will it be this time?”

The conversation with Tibia was still fresh in Caramel’s mind, so the first thing to come to him was something that most colts took an interest in at one time or another in their lives. Even he had entertained the notion of joining their ranks, once.

“Remember Commander Hurricane from Hearth’s Warming Eve?”

Stickle nodded.

“Well, his son was the first pegasus to pledge his life in service to a unicorn, and she was none other than Princess Platinum. Blizzard was his name, and he became the first of the Royal Guards.”

“Guards?” Stickle tilted his head. “You mean like Warrior Caste?”

Caramel took a moment to recall what he’d learnt in History class, but was a little miffed by the fact that he couldn’t remember as much as he would’ve liked. But that was okay; he could always embellish. Besides, it wasn’t as if nopony ever exaggerated stuff a bit to make them sound more exciting.

“Sort of, I guess. There was this one time when a dragon captured Clover the Clever, the advisor of Princess Platinum. And it was up to Captain Blizzard and his brothers to rescue her…”

“In the end, they had to save the dragon from Clover the Clever. And that’s why it’s never a good idea to mess with an apprentice of Starswirl the Bearded, even if you want her to turn rocks into gems for you. After making sure that she didn’t turn the dragon into a lizard for the inconvenience of getting dragged halfway across Equestria, Captain Blizzard and his brothers were finally able to escort her back to the palace.”

Caramel sighed after finishing the tale. That took a lot longer than he’d expected.

“Wow.” Stickle seemed awestruck. “Do changelings ever join the royal guards?”

Caramel blinked. “Err… not that I know of.”

“Do you think someone could disguise themselves as one and go fighting griffons and dragons for the queen?”

Is that such a good idea? A changeling having aspirations of joining Princess Celestia’s finest, no less, seemed like a recipe for disaster. He definitely couldn’t see that ending well without first having real trust between changelings and ponies. One that was more than an official truce written on paper.

“Yes, you can. And it’s boring.” Caramel turned and saw Thorax sitting some distance away.

I really need to stop letting these guys sneak up on me…

“Why? They do lots of stuff!” Stickle retorted. “Caramel says so.”

Thorax looked like he was rolling his eyes. “I took a guard’s place at the wedding. The most they did was stand around looking like statues, except the part where they got their flanks kicked when we attacked.”

“Warrior Caste isn’t better. You’ve never fought a dragon,” Stickle growled.

Thorax grinned. “Of course not; we’ve fought worse.”

“Prove it!”

“That’s what I’m here to do, actually.” Thorax turned to Caramel and passed him a bowl of royal jelly. “Eat up and let’s go. The queen is waiting for us.”

“Where are we going?” asked Caramel suspiciously. This was the first time he’d seen Thorax enthusiastic about going anywhere.

“Warrior Caste. You might have to make a few changes to your stories after we’re done with you.”

“I’m coming. I want to see this,” Stickle piped up.

“No, you’re not,” retorted Thorax. “Maybe when you’re older.”

Stickle glared at his older sibling and took several steps forward.

Thorax narrowed his eyes and hissed, “Go back. Now.”

“No.”

Caramel decided that it was time to intervene before things got out of hoof. “Go back to your brothers and sisters,” he said, giving Stickle a gentle push in the other direction. “I’ll tell you more stories when I get back. I promise.”

The nymph looked up to him, shot a glare at Thorax, and then hung his head. “Fine. Promise?”

“Cross my heart and hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye,” he replied as he did the accompanying gestures.

That seemed to satisfy Stickle, who sighed and trotted back to the main chamber. Thorax, on the other hoof, had one eyebrow raised.

“It’s a Pinkie Promise,” he explained.

“Whatever.” Thorax pointed at the bowl Caramel was still holding. “Eat it up and enjoy. It’ll be your last one.”

“Err…”

“Your last bowl of royal jelly, numbskull. Not your last meal ever.”

“Oh.”

“I still don’t get why Chrysalis wants me in Warrior Caste,” said Caramel as they climbed down a vertical shaft. “I mean, fighting isn’t my kind of thing, so what good would I be in there?”

“She’s the queen, and what she says goes whether you like it or not.”

“Yeah, sure. But I was asking what you think. It’s supposed to be your caste, isn’t it?”

Thorax paused and eyed him critically. “Fine, since you asked for it; you’re going to suffer quite a lot,” he briskly replied, then continued down the shaft.

Well, at least he’s honest. Although… Caramel had a niggling suspicion that Thorax had been hiding a smile when he’d said that. Was there something the changeling knew that he didn’t?

Yeah, that one’s obvious.

In spite of his doubts about the whole affair, he decided that he’d see what changeling warriors were like before writing them off. Although, if Thorax was any indication, he wasn’t going to get the nicest of workmates. And he already much preferred being in Keeper Caste, anyway.

The shaft widened considerably as they went further down, and Caramel realised that the material they’d been clinging to up to that point hadn’t been plain rock. It was the same kind of hard, porous material that he’d seen coating the entrance tunnel to the hive. It was apparently made by changelings to artificially narrow the shaft, to the point where only about two or three of them could squeeze together at any one place. In comparison, a full grown manticore should have no trouble going through the wider parts of the shaft. And as he inspected its surface, he noted with some measure of trepidation that the rock bore scars—deep gashes and grooves that resembled claw marks. And there were some spots where the greyish-brown rock looked like it had been blackened by fire.

Caramel suddenly realised that he must have dawdled and fallen behind, because he could no longer see Thorax below him. He picked up the pace. The shaft opened up into a natural cavern of sorts, one large enough that Ponyville Town Hall could’ve fit comfortably into it without touching the ceiling. Lengthwise, it was even bigger. It also looked like it might have once housed an underground river. The ceiling was glistening with wetness, and water was steadily dripping in multiple places.

“Thorax, you there?” he called out.

The only answering sounds were the soft pitter-patter of water on the smooth stone floor.

“Seriously, this isn’t funny.” Caramel conjured some light, focused it into a beam and shone it into the darkness. There was no sign of his companion. His uneasiness grew—there was something gnawing at his consciousness, but it took him a while to realise that it wasn’t smell, sound or sight.

There was tension in the atmosphere. Hunger, anticipation… It was as if somepony was watching him. Shivering slightly, he released his grip on the ceiling and hovered down, scanning the darkness. Then, his beam of light fell upon a changeling trotting out from behind a column.

“What the heck was that about? You had me—” Caramel’s words died off.

It wasn’t Thorax. The changeling standing some twenty feet away was a female.

“Umm, hi there,” he began, scratching his head nervously. “I just got a little lost.”

She advanced on him slowly, like a cat stalking a mouse, wings and tail a-twitching.

“I was following Thorax down here, and I think he’s left me behind.” Caramel was starting to sweat.

The stranger bared her fangs as she circled him. She reeked of aggression.

“So, umm, it would be great if you could point me in the right direction and I’ll just be off—”

“You talk too much,” she quipped, and leapt right at him.

Yikes! Caramel just managed to avoid the tackle by twisting to one side. Her hooves crashed to the floor, and he could tell from the cracking sound they made that it was a blow that was meant to injure. He backed off to what he thought was a safe distance and said, “Look, the queen wants me down here, so—whoa!”

He dodged another strike and backpedalled and away from her. “All right, I’ll go. Just calm down!” he said.

She only hissed in response and lunged at him again.

This time he was ready. He rolled to the side, tripped her with a foreleg, then scrambled to his hooves and broke into a gallop in a random direction. A moment later, he heard her hooves pounding in pursuit.

“What did I ever do to you?” he yelled.

She didn’t reply. She only kept chasing him.

Since running into the unknown depths with a psychotic changeling on his tail probably wasn’t the best idea, Caramel simply ran in circles around the area, hoping that she would tire out and maybe stop acting like a lunatic. Of course, as luck would have it, nothing of the sort happened. It was like an absurd game of tag. Eventually, he decided that running in circles wasn’t really helping anypony. He scrambled up a rock column and dashed for the shaft leading out of the chamber—he could look for Thorax later. But before he could even stick a hoof into the shaft, something grabbed onto him and clung on. He lost his grip and fell to the floor with a heavy thud.

How did—oh right, wings.

He kicked at the changeling standing over him, eliciting a surprised shriek.

“Come back here, weakling!” she snarled as he righted himself and tried to flee once more.

Weakling? Caramel skidded to a halt, turned around and glared at her.

She gave him a nasty grin. “That’s right. I’m calling you a coward.”

He could feel his ears growing hot, and he felt his wings twitch irritably. Even though he was panting slightly from the exertion, he seemed to be growing more and more restless by the second. His patience was wearing thin. “What’s your problem? Are you seriously asking for a fight?” he growled.

“Gee, I guess you’re pretty smart too.”

Her derisive sneer was enough to make his blood boil. Mock him, would she? Call him stupid and cowardly? The nerve! His legs trembled as he tried to rein in his temper. The world seemed to narrow down and close in on him, until the changeling was all he could clearly see. Then, a drop of water plopped onto his snout, and something inside Caramel snapped. He snarled and charged with all the pent-up fury that had been seething within.

The changeling hissed and charged as well, and they leaped and collided in the air. His world became a tangled mess of holey limbs and fangs and rock, and as he struggled to pin her down, something hard collided with his face. He reeled from the blow and tumbled to the floor, but quickly righted himself and swept a hoof low to trip her when she came close. Then when she was down, he delivered a swift kick to her side.

This is fun! Hitting someone had never felt so… satisfying. “How’d you like that now, huh? Still think I’m a weakling?” he taunted, grinning like a mad pony.

The changeling was also grinning as she got back onto all fours and dusted herself off. “I’m afraid so. The results are irrefutable—you’re a softie,” she said as they circled each other. “You’re only good for playing with babies.”

Why, you little… Caramel hissed and charged again. She stood her ground like an idiot, so he lunged and prepared to tackle her and pummel her into the dirt—

Suddenly, the world became blindingly bright. Caramel cried out and shielded his eyes with a hoof. He stumbled to a halt, and his eyes cleared just in time to see her rear before she bucked him in the chest and sent him flying. He then crashed against a rock column. Surprisingly, he wasn’t all that hurt. His heart was pounding with exhilaration, and as he locked eyes with his opponent who was advancing on him, he realised that he liked fighting. A lot.

Blind me with magic, eh? Two could play at that game. Better yet, he’d show her how it’s really done.

Caramel dug into his reserves, felt the tension of energy in his horn, and then focused it into a concussive blast. The changeling’s eyes widened in surprise, but she was able to duck just in time, leaving the green bolt to collide with the far wall and explode into a shower of sparks.

Grinding his teeth, he sent off several blasts in rapid succession, forcing her to dance and hop around to avoid them. But after the third one grazed her ear, she took to the air, horn aglow, and it was Caramel’s turn to scramble for cover when a green, fiery beam of magic lanced at him. Even from behind a stalagmite, he could feel its heat, and wisps of steam where wafting up from the black streak it left on the floor.

A quick peek told him that it had taken quite a bit out of her. And he realised that he had one advantage over her: magic. Even if his aim was poor, he had far deeper reserves than she did. Being with Sash and the nymphs had always been invigorating. And what did his opponent have? A few measly mushrooms for dinner? She couldn’t spare the energy.

He dashed out, readying another bolt of magic. But before he could take aim, she’d whipped down with blinding speed and cannonballed into him. They tumbled together until they crashed into a wall, with him sandwiched between her and the rock. She had her back to him, and when he tried to shove her away, she simply threw her weight backwards and smashed him against the wall, driving out his breath. Ripples of pain shot through his wings as she rammed him repeatedly.

Get off me, you stupid bug! His mental scream was accompanied by a wild burst of green energy from his horn, which struck her squarely in the back. She arced a short distance before crashing snout-first on the ground. Her stifled grunt of pain was almost musical to his ears.

He peeled himself off the rock and prepared to pulverize her with another blast, savouring the flow of energy in his horn. Where magic was concerned, he clearly outmatched her in terms of raw capacity, and he was not afraid to use it. I’ll show you what real love can—

Caramel suddenly froze and allowed the spell to fizz out. Real love? He looked down and saw the scrapes that he’d gotten from the fight. There were burn marks in the cavern where his spells had struck. He could see wisps of smoke coming from the changeling’s carapace. This isn’t what love is for.

Something was wrong. Why was he enjoying this so much? He shook his head in an attempt to clear it. He’d never gotten into such a fight before, and the few times that he did, he’d gone home bruised and sorry about the whole thing. The more he thought about it, the more he realised that he’d been ignoring his other senses. He could hear other changelings in the cavern. They were hiding where he couldn’t see, but he could feel their anticipation and excitement at the spectacle set before them. And their eagerness to join in the ‘fun’.

And then it clicked. Warrior Caste. Of course they would like fighting. But he didn’t, and it frightened him to think that they had somehow made him enjoy it. He took a deep, calming breath and sat on his haunches, forcing himself to ignore the urge to continue fighting his opponent. It was hard, like trying not to blink when there was dirt in his eyes.

His adversary got back onto her hooves, a little shakily, and spat dark fluid on the ground. “What’s the matter? Tired already?” she mocked as she trotted up to him.

He could feel his irritation spiking again. No! He wasn’t a violent thug. He didn’t like hurting others—he was better than that. His wings and tail twitched uncontrollably as he willed the rest of his body to stillness. Surges of magic kept running up and down the length of his horn.

“I’m done playing along,” he said.

She peered into his eyes and gave a smug grin before slapping him. “How about now?”

He clenched his teeth and shook his head. He was afraid of losing control if he did more than that.

She then poked him in the ribs. “Come on, you know you want to.”

This time, he didn’t give her the satisfaction of an answer. He closed his eyes. Slowly, gradually, his breathing calmed and his heart settled into steadier rhythm. When he was certain that he could look at her without wanting to bite her head off, he opened his eyes. “I’m sorry. Go have fun with somepony else,” he murmured.

The smugness drained out of her. “Hmph. Killjoy,” she grumbled.

A chorus of chirps, hisses and clicks followed her words as other changelings came out of the darkness from all around him. Now that he wasn’t so worried about being lost, he noticed that there were many fissures in the ceiling where the changelings had been hiding. They were all talking amongst themselves in Vespid, and although it was hard for him to follow, the gist was that they were sort of unhappy about the abrupt end to the fight.

Happy to disappoint you.

“Well, that was… interesting.”

Caramel singled out the source of the distinct voice: Queen Chrysalis. She flittered down and stood tall before him, smiling in apparent approval.

“You put something in the jelly, didn’t you?” he accused.

She raised a brow. “What?”

“I never liked fighting!” he shouted, silencing the entire cavern. “What did you do to me?”

“Oh, that.” Chrysalis chuckled and tossed her mane. “Your initial response to Mandible’s aggression was, how shall I say it… pathetic, really.”

Sniggers abounded from the nearby changelings.

“So I had to give you a little ‘encouragement’. To be honest, I didn’t expect it to work, but it’s clear that you are responsive to the swarming pheromones—extremely so, it seems.” She fluttered her wings in emphasis, blowing a small draft of air at him.

There was no smell save for the damp, rotting wood of Chrysalis’ scent, but one breath was all it took. His heart rate shot back up, and his muscles started twitching in anticipation of more violence. He gasped and knocked himself on the head with a hoof. No, I’m not getting into that again!

Chrysalis leaned in closer and whispered, “I’m impressed that you managed to overcome it, though. You looked like you were really enjoying yourself back there.”

He shifted restlessly and gave her a noncommittal grunt. That was all he could do—he’d be lying if he tried to deny it. Fighting under the influence of the pheromones was unlike anything he’d ever felt before. But now that his head was clearer, he felt... dirty.

“Show’s over; everyone back to your posts!” an armoured changeling shouted.

Nearly all of the changelings turned and dispersed without complaint. After a while, the only ones left in the chamber were Caramel, Chrysalis, Thorax and the one who’d given the order, who he surmised was the overseer in charge.

“Well, Skeehar, will he do?” Chrysalis asked the overseer.

“Barely. Ability’s there, but attitude, not so much. It’ll take some work,” she replied.

The queen nodded. “Go ahead. I want him ready for—”

Caramel stopped paying attention to the exchange. A moment before, something about his legs had been bothering him. They tickled on the inside, rather like having a really drippy, runny nose. And just then, he’d felt something warm running down his foreleg. He looked down and saw a thick stream of viscous fluid oozing out of one of the holes in his leg, down to the floor.

Eww, what the heck is this?

He used his other hoof to wipe the stuff off, but only managed to smudge it everywhere. When he pulled away, the thick stuff stretched, like some green, sick cross of slime, glue and snot. And more of it was coming out of the other holes in his legs.

“Eurgh!” His attempted exclamation of disgust came out more like an incoherent gurgle. He could feel his bile rising when he caught a whiff of the stuff; it reminded him of all the gooey things that can be found in bogs and marshes that were best left alone.

Caught up in the moment, it took him some time to realise that everyone had stopped talking, and that Skeehar, Thorax and Chrysalis were all looking at him.

The queen waved a hoof dismissively. “Oh, don’t worry about that,” she huffed. “Your glands are fully developed; it’s normal for them to secrete that when stimulated by combat pheromones.”

“But what is it for? It’s… it’s—”

“Very good for restraining ponies, wrapping them in cocoons, giving them indigestion,” Overseer Skeehar interjected. “Really, the applications are endless if you’re creative enough. Builder Caste mixes theirs with dirt to produce building materials.”

“It’s hardening,” Caramel complained. “How do I get it out?”

“It only hardens upon contact with air. And even if it does, your saliva will dissolve it, so you don’t need to fear getting your pores clogged up,” Chrysalis explained. “And as for your question; you’ll eventually learn to control it.”

Caramel winced as more of the stuff oozed down his legs. He’d need some time to sort this one out. But then again, he’d already picked up magic and gotten used to having wings. What was learning another bodily function? So he sighed and nodded.

“It’s not as disgusting as you ponies make it out to be; you’ll get used to it soon enough.” The queen smiled and patted him on the head. “I’ll let Calyx know where you’re stationed at. Train hard—I’ll be watching.”

“Will I get time to visit the hatchery?” he asked.

Chrysalis frowned thoughtfully. “Hmm…”

“I kind of have some promises to keep,” he added, hoping that it would sway her.

“Fine. Once in a while,” she finally conceded. “But only because the nymphs like you.”

The queen then leapt into the air and disappeared up a dark shaft, and he was left alone with the overseer and Thorax. Neither of them seemed about to speak, and he didn’t feel like he should be the one to break the silence. Skeehar in particular seemed rather busy inspecting him.

Caramel felt himself squirming a little under her critical gaze; she seemed to be sizing him up, and apparently not thinking very much of him. And his oozing legs didn’t make it any easier to keep still. At length, she finally said, “I suppose congratulations are in order—you’re a part of Warrior Caste now.”

“So… this was all a test?”

“Initiation rite. If you’re still standing after the fight, you’re in.” Skeehar then frowned. “That’s usually how it goes, anyway. If Queen Chrysalis hadn’t intervened, I would’ve failed you on the spot for running around like a headless centipede. She seems to want you here, so I’ll make an exception—this time.”

Caramel nodded solemnly. “Thanks.”

Skeehar’s mouth twisted into a smile. “You may be taking that back in a few days. There’s no place for weaklings in my caste. I intend to bust your shell and see if you last long enough to grow a new one.”

Really hope that’s just a figure of speech... “I’ll do my best.”

“You’d better. You haven’t seen a quarry eel up close, have you?”

Caramel shook his head and hoped she didn’t see him gulp. He’d been wondering if running into one of those was a possibility. Now, it looked inevitable.

“Well, you’ll get your chance sometime soon. But for now…” The overseer motioned Thorax over, who had been impassively standing by. When he was close, she continued, “Rax has just saved me the trouble of ordering someone to take you into their unit, so you can thank him for that.”

There was a smirk hidden in those words—Caramel could tell that she somehow found the fact amusing.

“I’ll leave you two now. I’ve got more miserable grubs to whip into shape before starting on you. Rax can show you around, and then you can rest.” With that said, Skeehar stalked off into the darkness.

“Heh heh.”

Caramel’s eyes widened. Did he just laugh? He turned and saw a Thorax’s mouth curled up in a toothy grin. “What’s so funny?”

“I just won a bet.”

“Eh?”

“My sister said that she’d make you cry before the end of the match. Since you’re not, I win.” Thorax chuckled again.

Caramel scratched his head. “Umm, Chrysalis interfered—I don’t think your sister was counting on that.”

“I know. That makes it even funnier!” His companion seemed quite ready to bounce on his hooves with glee. “And I don’t intend to let her forget how she got her shell half-busted by the ‘stupid pony’.”

“Gee, glad to be of service.” Caramel discreetly rolled his eyes. Sibling rivalry was apparently just as common amongst changelings as ponies.

“Watch your step,” Thorax cautioned as they went through a wide section of tunnel that had a gaping hole in its side. “Flying’s the only way out of the old city, so unless someone carries you out, you’re done for.”

Caramel slowed down to take a peek. It was too dark to make anything out, and when he tossed a pebble into the blackness, the sound of its impact never came back. “Did you say old city?” he asked.

“When the hive was bigger, we were able to hold out much further down. Farming’s better, and we actually had real homes. But that’s what others think, anyway. Half the stuff about they say about the place is probably rubbish—it was before Queen Gossamer’s time. Even our mother hasn’t actually lived down there. No one remembers.”

A city. So, changelings had real architecture? After what he’d seen of the hive, it wasn’t hard to imagine. “Have you ever been down there?”

Thorax grunted in affirmation. “A fat lot of good it did. I nearly got eaten by a quarry eel. Can’t say the same for a whole bunch of others who tried to get a look every now and then. Diamond dogs have been stealing whatever’s left in there, and they don’t like to share.”

“Sounds like it should never have been built in the first place,” he opined as he gazed down, imagining a ghostly ruin of a city lying at the bottom, filled with monsters roaming its forgotten halls and streets.

“Come on, we’re wasting time,” Thorax rasped. “No one misses it; the stupid eels and dogs can keep it.”

It was a long couple of hours as Thorax showed him the training caverns, water reservoirs, and all the entryways, drainage shafts, and chokepoints that they were supposed to watch over and defend in the event of an incursion. It was difficult to keep track of the patrol patterns and schedules, and his head was positively spinning by the end of the tour. The length of it did give him plenty of time to shake out the rest of the sticky gunk out of the holes in his legs, though. He was almost clean by the end of it.

Only after all that was he finally taken to the living quarters. Thorax led him past a series of room-like cavities that were arranged in such a way that they reminded him of a barracks. Unlike the structures and tunnels up above, stonework was clearly involved in the making of these. Probably the last works of the long-gone changelings after being driven out of their city. It looked like anything else farther up was made by those who either had forgotten the craft, or didn’t have the time and resources to bother with anything more intricate than simple tunnels and chambers.

It was rather saddening to think that the changelings had lost so much—if what Thorax said about the old city was true. He felt a little guilty about once subscribing to the notion that changelings were just dangerous predators.

They still are, he thought at the back of his mind. But they were apparently also much more than that, a long time ago.

They entered one of the ‘cabins’, and he froze and stared when he saw one of the room’s three occupants.

“What is she doing here?” he asked, staring at her. It was the changeling he’d fought earlier. The one Chrysalis had called Mandible.

She didn’t look all that thrilled to see him, either. “I live here. What’s your excuse?” she growled.

Thorax chuckled. “Caramel, meet my brood-mates. You’ll be staying with us.”

“I should have known you’d want to keep the pony. Idiocy loves company, eh?” Mandible quipped.

Thorax grinned and replied, “Of course. Anything for my dear sister.”

Caramel’s eyes widened. Aside from the part where Thorax was having fun at his expense, this was a side of him that he’d never seen before. First there was the part where he’d actually laughed about winning the bet, then the part where he was being helpful in guiding him around and explaining stuff with enthusiasm; and now he was happily trading insults with his sister. And he wasn’t being grumpy or moody, either.

I guess he just really missed his buddies. And fighting.

The other two changelings in the room sniggered at Thorax’s remark. Caramel was surprised to find that the smaller of the two was Chitin, the one who’d originally brought his daily dose of royal jelly—he’d not seen her for quite a while. He didn’t recognise the taller one, though.

“So you’re the pony who got suckered into joining us,” said the taller changeling.

Caramel bristled at the comment. “Sash didn’t trick me or anything, okay? She—”

“Heh, relax, no need to have such a thin shell.” The tall one smiled and waved his wings in a reconciliatory manner. “Chitin here was talking about you for quite a while; I was just curious. I’m Scritch, by the way.”

“Caramel,” he replied automatically.

“Aww, don’t be like that,” Chitin piped up. “You’ll like it down here. We get bigger rations than everyone else, we get to see a lot of action, and we don’t have to do boring work like growing mushrooms or cleaning eggs!”

Bigger rations? That might explain why Thorax was generally pushed around by the other overseers. It looked like the military changelings were getting the best of everything, to the annoyance of others. Although, to be fair, Warrior’s superior attitudes towards the other castes probably didn’t help smooth matters along.

“Oh yes,” Mandible chimed in, “you’ll see a lot of action, all right.” She pointed a hoof at him and waved it back and forth between them. “I’m not finished with you yet—we’re having another round in training, when Mother’s not going to be around to give you any help.”

Caramel yawned. This cycle was nearly over—it was supposed to be bedtime already, and now that the effects of the pheromones had completely worn off, he was starting to feel how much the fight and subsequent tour of the depths had taken out of him. He could already feel scrapes and bruises that he’d previously been able to ignore.

“Uh huh, maybe later. I’m tired,” he mumbled as he trotted over to a nice, comfy corner and lay down.

“Don’t ever say that in front of the overseer,” Scritch advised. “She’ll toss you into the nearest fighting pit and have a match with you personally. And she doesn’t lose, ever.”

Duly noted.

“Great, you just had to tell him didn’t you? I was looking forward to that!” Mandible complained.

Scritch shrugged. “Meh, she’ll find other ways. She always does.”

That prompted a snigger from Thorax. “So does he. You won’t believe how stupidly lucky he is at finding a way out of things.”

“Whatever. I’m going to sleep,” Caramel announced. There would be time to deal with everything else later. Before drifted off, though, he thought he could taste the sweetness of a teensy bit of brotherly fondness coming from his formerly moody companion.