Changeling Blood
Prologue: The Fine Print

Princess Celestia looked over the clamouring crowd. Dealing with journalists was a bit of a bother, and she felt it had been since… well, the invention of journalism, actually. The announcement she’d made a few days earlier had caused quite the stir among her little ponies.

But of course, when one announces that one is going to offer shelter and even pardon to a group of changelings -- of the very same hive that attacked the city not too long ago, no less -- there’s bound to be some commotion. Still, she knew in her heart this had to be done, and thankfully she wasn’t alone in dealing with the media this time.

“Now, now, one at a time, one at a time,” King Alberick -- also known as the Griffon Smith of Peace -- announced, silencing the mix of ponies and griffons who’d shown up to this press conference. A great hulk of a creature, he was definitely more lion than hawk, with the personality of a honey badger to boot. His thick limbs made a proud display of his strength, always, and he kept his claws and beak as sharp as his mind. Truly, Alberick personified that old adage of the Griffon Nation: “One does not assassinate a member of the royal family. One simply loses assassins.”

One light pink unicorn raised her hoof, slowly and quietly. Celestia nodded towards her.

“Are the rumours true? Are these changelings being granted amnesty and citizenship?”

Well, that got right to the point.

Celestia looked to Sapphire Gaze beside her, the changeling dwarfed in between the two royals.

“In a manner of speaking," Celestia replied. "While it is true that the changelings who arrived here will not be punished for any past crimes against our nation or the griffons’, they will not be considered citizens of Equestria. I’ve discussed the matter with my sister and King Alberick at great length, and we decided the best course of action would be to let them found a small town of their own, to be treated as a city state.”

The crowd erupted, questions blurring in the noise. Celestia silenced them with a wave of her slender foreleg.

“Now, this means they will have territory to call their own; a small section of land that neither Equestria nor the Griffon Nation have seen fit to claim. They will enjoy the same rights as ponies and griffons, and be subject to the same rules. The children they brought with them will have to follow a basic education, and the adults will be expected to find some kind of profession. We’re also encouraging them to integrate in griffon and pony society, so they will not be isolated. However, the land assigned will be their own, so they are free to put forth their own rules on it. Given their unique abilities, we all felt that this would be best.”

A small silence fell before another pony, a pegasus stallion this time, raised his hoof and wing.

“Does this mean Equestria is accepting all refugees now? Even the ones that have been hostile to us before?”

Celestia shook her head. Princess Luna answered in her place. “No, we are not. We are granting the changelings land that is not ours to take, but is ours to give. It’s part of the neutral territory ponies and griffons agreed upon centuries ago. Neither of our nations was permitted to expand there, but nothing stops either of us from ceding the land to a third party. That also means that if other changelings come seeking a better life, we do not need to find a place for them here in Equestria.”

The crowd grew mute. Luna took a deep breath to quell the concerns she knew they all had.

“Let it be clear: there has been no threat to your security at all, nor will there be. The changelings that came here were treated first as prisoners of war, they were escorted to Canterlot for security’s sake. After that, they were given medical attention, as international law dictates, and they were then subject to inquiry. They gave us the location of their hive as well as the exact composition of their military device, and our scout reports have given us no reason to doubt them. They’ve offered all the knowledge they have, and what we have been able to test has proven most useful. We have no good reason to deny them, and the position we are giving them puts them out in the open where they can be monitored while leading a normal life.”

This time it was a griffon who had a question. King Alberick let the clawed creature speak.

“What about the changelings’ powers? Isn’t moving them to a border town an act of war?”

“Not in the slightest. If anything, denying them would be an act of war against us. The region we’ve assigned lies straight on a sandstorm line. We’d have put up a barrier years ago if our territorial treaties hadn’t complicated things. Putting up a small neutral territory lets us abide by the old treaties and still get some necessary work done. The changelings have already suggested a barrier made of one of their flexible cements, and when the town is finished our northernmost settlements won’t have to worry about getting sandblasted every two weeks. Besides that, the location of the place makes it easier for the children to attend school in griffon country. We already have towns with mixed populations, they’ll fit right in even without their disguises. As for administration: they’ll answer to both our laws, but they will be considered neutral as far as military goes. This is no more an act of war than a unicorn paying our lands a visit.”

Celestia nodded. “Understand that this small group has sworn off deception. They are here because they do not wish to be used by their Queen anymore, and they’ve agreed to all the terms we’ve set them. Their powers do not make them any more dangerous than normal unicorns, or any kind of pony, for that matter. Only four of them have any advanced magical skill to speak of, and only one of these advisors will remain in the town.” Celestia motioned to Sapphire Gaze beside her, the one who was now known to be the Archmage of Chrysalis, and by extension the second most dangerous changeling in existence. “The other three will be spread over Equestria and placed in positions where their knowledge can be put to good use. They’ll also be funding part of the new settlement to get it started. They will be monitored, rest assured, but they will not be imprisoned. The changelings are protected and bound by the same laws as all of us are.”

“But then you’re still putting Queen Chrysalis’ Archmage right in range of the Griffon Nation, and leaving a perfect opening for an attack or a trap,” a pegasus pony reporter insisted. “Are we supposed to just accept that these creatures seek nothing but redemption, even after attacking us?”

Alberick smirked unpleasantly at that remark. “That’s an odd thing to say, isn’t it? If memory serves, didn’t you ponies once destroy your homeland with hate and mistrust? I’m pretty sure you have a holiday to commemorate it and everything. We griffons have a nasty history ourselves, the changelings are no better or worse than what either of our races once were. Have the quota on second chances been lowered the past few centuries?”

The crowd erupted at the remark, and at long last Sapphire Gaze, the blue and black changeling Archmage, raised a paw to ask for silence. She carefully moved her blue web-like mane aside so her eyes weren’t occluded by it. As she stepped forward, the sheer pressure in everyone’s eyes felt like a crushing weight on her heart. Sapphire took a few deep breaths through her mouth and a few emergency breathing holes she kept near her neck.

“Umm, look: I know we’re not welcome everywhere. I know you have no reason to trust us. But you can still trust your rulers. We do, we have to. And... what they aren’t telling you is that… I’m taking all the blame myself.”

A few eyebrows raised at that.

“The four of us were the personal advisors of Chrysalis, which makes us a threat. We understand that, and we’re willing to bear the consequences of our history. I’ve been assigned as leader of the colony. If there have been any crimes that we as a people need to account for, it falls upon my shoulders. So if you have any qualms with how things are, I’m the one you want, not the others.”

She bit her lip as she tried to think of more to say, the gaze of the crowd boring into her. She could guess their thoughts, even without resorting to a spell. She wasn’t just a stranger, she was a threat and a usurper of pony lands, as far as they were concerned.

“That’s all there is to it. We were at war, we surrendered, and this is what your rulers have decided to do with us. You trust them enough to rule you, you can trust them to treat us as fairly as we deserve. If you don’t think this is fair, well… you can talk to me or to your rulers. We are through with hiding and running, and if you have any issues with us we will settle it by your laws. You have a choice, which is more than what we had to work with.”

Silence fell.

“I know we don’t belong here, that we have no real right to any land. We will leave if we can and if we have to. But now you know where we are, and we’re a sitting duck for any real offensive, from either the Griffon Nation or Equestria. We can get wiped out at any time, which isn’t much different from what we had at the hive. But at least now we can try to make some decisions for ourselves, turn a new leaf. We don’t want to be remembered as a race of parasites.”

Another awkward silence, another deep breath. Sapphire could almost feel her heart breaking, and the spare one was starting to ache a little, too.

“I know you probably won’t believe me when I say this, but… we’re the last ones. Chrysalis destroyed the other hives trying to build her Changeling Kingdom, all that’s left are the drones who were subjugated by our former Queen, and perhaps a handful of solitary survivors. But believe me: we were pretty good at war, there will not be many left of those.”

The journalists started glancing awkwardly at each other.

“That is your real concern, isn’t it? How many more are coming? Rest assured: not many. We didn’t leave a lot of survivors during our wars, and it’s only the ones with a hive who are sent out to feed. You’ll find most changelings living in the wild, with barely any consciousness left after a lifetime of being brainwashed by a Queen. The changelings that aren’t with us died a long time ago, their bodies just haven’t caught up yet. So don’t worry, they will not be joining us, and you won’t have to deal with them. It’s just us.“

No calls answered her, just the sound of scribbling.

“And if you really hate us, well, think of it this way: we need love to survive, remember? If we’re really that unwanted, we won’t be able to live at all.”

One griffon raised a claw.

“Yes?” Sapphire nodded with a quiver in her demeanour.

“What are you going to call this new colony? Have you settled on a name?”

The blue-maned changeling looked to the princesses and the king, before taking a deep breath to summon her confidence.

“Yes. We are calling it Alveola.”

“That went well,” Alberick offered, chinking his glass to Celestia’s, Luna’s and Sapphire’s. “You made quite the impression, little one.”

The changeling shivered nervously as ponies and griffons mixed with her three compatriots. They were surrounded by journalists, nobles and whatever other notables the royals had decided to invite.

Sapphire sighed.

“Thank you, all of you. I know this can’t be easy to explain to your people.”

“Do not worry about it,” Luna added with a knowing smile. “I think you’ll find ponies and their friends can be quite accepting when given time.”

“Well, our families and the children are safe, that’s all that matters. And the rest of the former council is blending in well, at least,” Sapphire remarked.

“Whoa, easy on the truffles there, fella,” a yellow stallion wearing a suit -- and oddly, a Stetson hat -- said, ”that stuff’s mighty expensive.”

The changeling with the amber mane and tail stopped scooping from the buffet and headed to a table, with the stallion in tow.

“Oh, sorry. I just assumed this was the main meal, it was back in our hive. We’ve had to survive on just that and honey.”

That got a raised eyebrow from the stallion. He motioned towards a tan acquaintance, an older fellow by the looks of the grey hues through his black mane and tail. The two sat down with the changeling for a little talk.

“I’m sorry, did you just say you eat that all the time?” the yellow stallion started, pointing to the truffle paste before digging into his own dish. The light brown one looked a bit surprised at the notion.

“Um, yes. Is that a problem?”

The tan stallion chuckled.

“No, but it is a bit strange by our standards. I’m Rich, by the way. My name is Rich, that is. And this is Braeburn, he lives in Appleloosa. If I understand correctly, that’s not too far from where your new colony will be.”

“Rampant Growth, Horn of Plenty, but everyone calls me Ramp. I was in charge of food back at our Hive, what food we could get.” The changeling took a tentative bite of the truffle paste.

“And you are quite sure that what you have on your plate there is what you ate back home? Frequently?” Filthy Rich asked curiously.

Ramp chewed carefully, then swallowed.

“Hmm, yes, quite sure. It’s truffles, isn’t it? We grew those in our rot farms. It’s good food, but a little heavy if you have to eat them too often.”

Braeburn shot Filthy Rich a knowing look.

“So… changelings know how to farm truffles reliably? Am I understanding this correctly?” Rich asked.

“Well, I wouldn’t say reliably, but we had to make do to try and feed everyone, and this is one of the better fungus species, so…”

Braeburn shook his head and pointed to the paste.

“Just out of curiosity, what do you use for that? You still need to graft the things on an oak tree, right?”

“We do, yes. It’s easier on live wood, but mostly we’ve had to rely on dead oak trees back home. You can still get a couple of kilograms off a root trunk, though.”

Rich’s mouth was starting to hang.

“And on a live tree?”

“Oh, on a live tree it’s less, but you don’t lose the wood. That’s one of the things we warred over with the other hives, actually; oak forests are basically farmlands for us. Truffles, acorns for paste, that sort of thing. Since we never managed to farm pulses, we had to use mushrooms to keep our protein up. That is, in our normal shapes. We used it for baby food, mostly."

The stallions stared a little at that. Rampant Growth swallowed nervously.

“Is something wrong? We surrendered the details of our technique, if you’re interested. Princess Celestia will be making all of our knowledge public in a few days.”

“Celestia said that Chrysalis' hivelings would get the settlement, but her advisors would live in Equestria,” Rich started, changing the subject. “I take it that means you’ve found a position somewhere already?”

“Well, no, I-wait, what did you just say?” the changeling asked, confused.

Braeburn finished his meal and raised an eyebrow. “Do you have a place to stay yet? Any job to do?”

“No, before that,” Ramp inquired, getting quite anxious by this point.

Rich looked around, checking where the other advisors were.

“Well, the former advisors of Queen Chrysalis are separated, right? For security’s sake, in case anyone ever tries to come after you. And it makes it easier if only one of you has to get involved in politics and all, especially with all the other nations that might hold a grudge. It’s a rough deal, but your families get a new home, and the three of you get to live in Equestria still, right?”

“Yes, the th-three of us are going to live in Equestria. But Sapphire will stay in the new settlement with the rest of the former hivelings.” Ramp seemed to mull over something, as if he were upset by what the stallions had just said. Or maybe not upset, just agitated.

“I guess that means you’ll be missing your family, huh?” Braeburn asked, sympathy welling in his voice.

To that, the Horn of Plenty chuckled. “We changelings are naturals at adapting. New environments don’t really shake us much, and at least now the f-four of us can keep in touch and make decisions on our own."

Rich shrugged and flashed a friendly smile. “Well, if you need a job, I know some truffle farmers who’d gladly take in someone with experience. It’s considered a luxury food here in Equestria, we can’t keep up with demand when the holidays run around.”

Ramp chuckled nervously. “Somehow I doubt food that a changeling has touched will sell very well.”

“You’d be surprised,” came the reply in a Southern drawl. “Besides, you’re an advisor, aren’t you? If your advice is help enough, you could just stick to teachin’. Believe me, I come from a farmin’ family, I should know. When you grow food, you’re always eager to learn how to grow more. Ya tend to lose prejudice when food’s on the line.”

“I can think of a few places that would gladly offer a suitable position,” Filthy Rich offered. “That is, if you’re in the market for that sort of thing.”

The changeling gasped. He looked overwhelmed, and not just by the offer. “Umm… yes, gladly. I think that would be perfect. In the meantime, would you excuse me for a moment? Something very urgent just came up.” Ramp got up and rushed towards Sapphire, who was currently speaking to some unicorns about some anecdote on magic or another.

“Sapphire,” he started, before realising the company he’d barged in on, which included royalty, “Your Highnesses, if I may.”

The blue and black changeling’s face turned grave when she noticed her friend’s panic.

“What’s wrong, Ramp?”

“The deal we made? Us being scattered?” Rampant Growth whispered, gritting his teeth.

Sapphire nodded and put a foreleg on his shoulder. “What’s the matter? It’s just a security measure. That way we can all get to safety if Chrysalis does decide to try something and I’m the only one who gets any political power. You can still keep in touch and live a normal life. You can leave the rest to me.”

“That isn’t the problem. Don’t you see, Sapphire? We signed the contract.”

“Yes, we all agreed this would be best. So what’s wrong?”

Rampant Growth sighed.

“What are we going to do about Bastion?”

Twilight Sparkle casually weaved through the dignitaries and representatives. The purple unicorn mentally steeled herself for what she had to do. This wasn’t going to be easy, but Celestia expected a solution and a solution she would bring. Twilight found her target and took a deep breath. This would require delicacy and tact, for her task was of international importance, and her only hope was unorthodox.

“Hi, Lyra,” Twilight greeted her old friend, “enjoying the reception?”

“Oh yeah, we were just talking to that construction gal over there. You wouldn’t believe how many styles of architecture these changelings picked up over the years.” She pointed to a female ‘ling with a pink mane who was currently entertaining the journalists. Twilight recognised one stallion as Equestria’s Minister of Culture, too. He looked impressed, which wasn’t an easy feat when dealing with Canterlot ponies.

“I’ll bet. It is pretty crazy, isn’t it? A changeling nation right next to Equestria?”

“Well, Alberick’s got a good point: ponies did some bad things before, griffons have a bad history, and the way things are now is a lot safer than they were before, right?” another mare replied.

“Oh, hi, Bon Bon, didn’t see you there,” Twilight nervously started, “Umm… listen, there’s no easy way to say this, so I’ll just say it: I was just talking to princess Celestia and the subject of adoption came up.”

Lyra cocked her head, raising her eyebrow before taking another sip of her drink. It did not help. “Celestia wants to be adopted? It’s a little late for that, isn’t it?”

Twilight shook her head, looking for the right words. “No, not like that. I mean we got talking about the whole system of adoption, and I was wondering what you thought of it.”

Bon Bon looked a little anxious at that. “What about it?”

Twilight leaned in for privacy’s sake. “Well, you two are registered for it, right? As potential parents?”

“Yes, we are,” Bon Bon replied. “We signed up for it right after we got married, you know that. They’re not changing the law on that, are they?”

“No, no, not at all. There’s no problem, it’s just that… I guess it’s a little hard to understand why you would do that, you know?”

Lyra chuckled mirthlessly. “Twilight, what are you talking about? Is there a problem with the way we are?”

“No, no,” Twilight stammered, “I’m happy you guys got together, even if we never were close friends.”

“And that wasn’t for lack of trying on my part, was it?” Lyra joked.

“Definitely not. But what I’m trying to say is, you two had such a small wedding --“

Bon Bon grimaced. “After what happened at the last big wedding, we were kind of aiming for a small ceremony.”

“I know, I get that. And even if you had a small wedding, you still went and made it official that you wanted to be together, I get that too. What I don’t get is why you’d sign up to be adoptive parents.”

The two mares stared at Twilight for a moment.

“What exactly are you getting at, Twi?”

Twilight lowered her voice and tried to sound casual, which was getting harder and harder by the second. “I mean, if you want children, there are other ways to do that. You could get a foal that would at least have some of your blood.”

“Oh, that.” Bon Bon chuckled as she nodded. “Well, we could, but we’d rather not. Thing is –“

“We don’t want it to come from a stranger,” Lyra interjected. “And even though both of us know stallions who’d… you know, ‘donate for the cause’, we can’t really ask that of them. Of any of them. It’d just get weird after a few years.”

Twilight nodded. “Okay, but still, adoption?”

By now, Bon Bon still hadn’t managed to see the silly unicorn’s point. “What’s wrong with the idea? You don’t think two mares can raise a child?”

“I think kids are raised and shaped by a lot of different things, but that’s not my point. What kind of worries me is: adoption’s kind of a long shot, isn’t it?” Twilight narrowed her eyes as she said it.

Lyra, meanwhile, took the final sip of her wine, and she dearly hoped any spirits in the room -- alcoholic or otherwise -- would grant her some modicum of understanding.

“How do you reckon?”

“Think about it. We haven’t had a major war in centuries. The last real war we had was just one battle, and we won. We don’t have that many diseases and even then… thing is, if something bad really does happen and a foal loses their parents, there’s a system for their family to become legal guardians. I guess what I’m trying to say is, the whole concept of adoption is kind of a relic now. ”

Lyra gave her mate a hug with a free foreleg. “We know. They told us all that when we filled out the papers. We know it probably won’t lead to anything. But it’s a principle thing. We wanted it on paper that we’re up for taking in a child.”

“But if you adopt, you wind up with a child who looks nothing like you, right? They wouldn’t have your blood, they’d have a different smell, they might have hereditary medical problems that you don’t know how to deal with. Doesn’t that bother you?”

Bon Bon shook her head with a confident smile.

“Nope, not at all.”

“So you really are serious about wanting children?”

The couple frowned as this conversation had gone from weird to approaching the Twilight Zone, a term that had been coined solely to describe the awkwardness of a conversation with Celestia's purple protégée.

“Yes, we’re serious,” Lyra attested, her cheerful expression starting to fade just a tad.

Twilight bit her lip. This was the big one.

“How serious?”