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Organised by
RogerDodger
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2000–8000
Coming Home
She was dreaming.
It was a familiar dream. The same dream she always had, really. The details changed from time to time, but the heart of it remained the same.
She was adrift in the ocean, lost and alone. She turned her head left and right, but there was nothing in sight. Just the gray sky above and the gray waves below, stretching into the distance. The horizon was an unbroken line all around her; no ships, no land, no other living things. Just emptiness.
She kicked her hooves slowly, forcing her head to stay above the water. The waves were small this time, but each wavelet that struck her seemed to sap a bit more of her energy. And she had so very little energy left.
She was tired. So very tired.
Some nights she swam. Picked a direction and drove forward as long and as hard as she could, hoping to find something. Hoping to find anything. But not tonight. Tonight she just treaded water as best she could, and stared at the unbroken horizon.
It was harder and harder to keep herself afloat. The wings on her back were too weak to lift her free from the ocean surrounding her. They served only to drag her down. The cold water leeched the heat and strength from her limbs, even as it waterlogged her chitin. And the growing holes in her legs did not make it any easier to tread water.
But still she struggled to keep herself afloat. Because what else was she to do?”
Chrysalis’s eyes blinked open.
With a sigh, the Queen of the Changelings sat up and took in her surroundings.
The cave was dank and dark and cramped. Around her, the remains of her hive lay stretched out on the cold, unforgiving stone, sleeping and trying to conserve their energy. It was not a large cave. But it was no longer a large hive either. Little more than two hundred changelings remained.
That wasn’t to say that only two hundred changelings survived. Chrysalis tried to take some comfort in that fact. Their expulsion from Canterlot had scattered her people far and wide. This was merely the group she had succeeded in gathering together. In truth, it had been quite some time since she bothered to actively draw in more of her subjects. There was little point in doing so.
Her changelings were likely better off scattered as they were. A lone changeling might well eke out a living somewhere, draining ambient love, affectionate animals, and occasionally impersonating a well-liked pony. Massed together, they required a steady stream of love be brought in by infiltrators and gatherers. But now that the ponies knew of their existence, both of those roles had become far more dangerous.
That was the reason she hadn’t bothered to return home to the Badlands. The hive had lived there in isolation to protect its secrecy. And secrecy allowed the hive’s gatherer’s to freely move back and forth with their collected love.
But now that isolation would turn their home into a mausoleum. The Equestrian Military was onto them now. There were guards and patrols. Obstacles and roadblocks. The hive had barely been able to sustain itself there when the ponies were ignorant of the existence of changelings. With the veil of secrecy stripped away…
She had failed her people. She could see that clearly now. It had been her decision to invade Equestria. To attack Canterlot. She had committed the most unforgivable sin of a ruler. She had bet the future of her subjects on a roll of the dice.
And she had lost.
And now her changelings faced the most dire straits they had ever experienced. Worse than even the myths and legends of the time before the Joining, or even the era of The Corruption and Loss. In a thousand years, what would her rule be called, she wondered?
Would there be anyling left to pass on the stories?
Walking quietly to the mouth of the cave, Chrysalis stared up into the heavens above her hive’s temporary home. The sky was a bright, clear blue, the terrain around her tan and rocky. So why she feel like she was surrounded by endless waves and grey skies?
She was dreaming.
She was dreaming the same dream as always. Lost. Alone. Water logged and hopeless. The effort to just keep her head above the waves was draining and debilitating. All around here the horizon ran unbroken, a thin line between the gray waves and the gray sky.
Except…
Except something was different.
She squinted her eyes and stared. There, far off in the distance, was a speck. Nothing more. Just a tiny black dot in the distance. A break in the horizon.
Something was out there.
She didn’t know what direction it lay in. There was neither sun nor stars to guide her in this barren place. But she hardly needed them when all she had to do was hold a steady course on the only object in sight.
With renewed vigor, Chrysalis began to swim slowly in the only direction she could discern. Forward.
Something was different.
Chrysalis could feel it in the air. Something had changed. She felt… energized. Like the air itself carried a faint trace of love. The entire hive could feel it. It felt… Good.
The sentries posted outside reported seeing a strange disturbance in the sky. Ribbons of color dancing across the heavens, like the Aurora Borealis she had heard stories of from the previous Queen. But that made little sense. Everyone knew that the dancing lights only existed far to the north, where Changelings had once called home. They were never seen this far south.
There was something out there. Something that drew her focus and attention. Something that seemed to tug at her very soul.
The last time she had felt such a draw, it had led her to Canterlot. To the pink alicorn Princess. And to the disaster of the royal wedding.
There had been something about that place and that mare as well. Something that made her think of old stories and shared memories. Of times before The Loss.
Did she dare follow the pull? Dare to risk her people on yet another gamble? Could they survive another such disaster?
Could they survive as they were?
Long ago in ages past, long before the Wendigos, or Hearthwarming, the Three Tribes bickered and fought amongst themselves, each seeking dominance over the others.
But the Earth Ponies, Pegasi, and Unicorns fought not only each other, but amongst themselves as well. In an unforgiving age, merely being the same race of pony was not enough to ensure harmony.
The Tribe of the Clear Earth were not welcomed amongst the other Earth Ponies. And so they left, traveling far away in hopes of leaving the suffering and strife of their peers behind.
They headed north.
Chrysalis led her hive away from their temporary home that evening. There were no complaints.
They headed north.
She dreamt.
Night after night she dreamt. But now the dreams changed. They differed night by night. Calm seas were often replaced by rough waters, the waves roiling and crashing around her, submerging her again and again. Hazards and obstacles she had never before seen emerged from the heavens. Storms and water spouts and raging winds.
But she swam on as hard as she could. She ignored the pain in her limbs, the itch of her waterlogged chitin. The burning in her muscles and her lungs. She kept her eyes focused on the horizon. On the black dot she was sure was an island. A distant shore in the endless sea of nothing.
Each night it grew closer.
It was increasingly difficult to evade the patrols.
Chryalis’s hive was small, and she did her best to guide them around cities and villages alike. But even such a small group drew attention as it passed. Especially when they lacked the energy to alter their appearances.
The Equestrian’s were growing more and more nervous, and therefore more and more wary and defensive. Each town they bypassed had more and more guards patrolling their streets, more and more pegasi patrolling the skies. It would be difficult, if not impossible to infiltrate such defenses, let alone defeat them.
Not that Chrysalis cared.
So had no intention of fighting the ponies. Her goal, whatever it truly was, lay far to the north. This much she knew. Whether she was leading her subjects to slaughter or salvation, she was uncertain. But she knew there was no direction to go but forward.
The Tribe of the Clear Earth marched ever onward, driven by their stubborn determination. They marched past green valleys and fertile plains. They marched far to the north, where the Earth lay dormant under snow and ice, and the sky itself glowed at night in a dancing rainbow of colors, reflecting off their coats.
Here they would make their home, far from their brethren. Far from anyplace a sane pony would wish to dwell. They’d turn this inhospitable land into their home. A home nopony else would wish to or dare try to take from them.
She dreamt.
It was an island, of that there was no longer any doubt.
It was hard to see, through the raging seas and stormy skies. But she could make out that much. Just for an instant, when she was at the peak of a particularly large wave, and the clouds parted, she could see it.
Solid land. A place to rest. A place to recover.
Hope.
Tired and drained, still she struggled, forcing her limbs to move. To propel her closer and closer to that distant shore. It was so very far away, she wanted to cry. To give up. But she couldn’t. Not now.
Not when she finally had something to strive for in sight.
It should have been impossible to keep her subjects fed on their long march. Even such a small group needed to stop and scavenge periodically. But there was no hope of infiltrating the towns and cities they passed, even if Chrysalis had been willing to stop.
There was a strange taste to the air, a background hum of magic and love that energized her people, driving them forward. But it was far from enough to sustain anyling. They needed more concentrated love to survive.
And they received it.
Chrysalis had stopped calling her subjects to her long ago. What was the point in concentrating what was left of her people into one place? The only purpose it would serve would be to allow them all to die together in one place. No, she did nothing to summon those changelings she passed in her journey.
And yet they followed nonetheless.
Every mile they traveled, every town and village they passed brought more changeling back to her hive. The Royal Equestrian guard protected the citizens of Equestria with vigor, but they were worried about infiltration, not exfiltration.
Some changelings joined the hive hungry and destitute of course. But many of them brought all the love they had been able to gather for themselves, and shared it amongst their fellows.
It wasn’t much, but along with the energy in the air, it was enough to sustain the entire hive.
It wasn’t long before their numbers had swelled into the thousands.
Life was hard for the Tribe. There were no pegasi to control the weather, no unicorns to weave spells of warmth or protective shields. Everything had to be done by hoof and mouth. There was never enough food, or shelter, or warmth. Day by day things looked grimmer and grimmer for their people.
And then they found The Others.
They found them while prospecting deep in the snow covered mountains. Far below the frozen surface, in dank icy caves they lived. Strange creatures that had horns like unicorns, but not the same. Wings like pegasi, but not the same. And bodies like Earth ponies, but not the same.
But they had come to this desolate place because nopony had wanted to live beside such strange creatures. And that was the same. They survived by drawing in the ambient magic and energy of the crystals that surrounded their caves, but there was never enough ‘food’ for them, or enough shelter. And that was the same. They were all alone, and their future looked grim. And that too was the same.
She dreamt.
The waters had grown colder and more frigid even as the storms and waterspouts began to fade away. The icy sea sapped her strength and will, chilling her to the bone.
But the land was closer than ever now. She could see it more clearly each time she dreamt of it. The skies remained grey and overcast, but every now and then there was a tiny break in the clouds, and sunlight streamed down upon her destination.
It made the land glow with a golden light.
The taste of love in the air had grown stronger day by day. It was nearly enough to sustain a changeling, this far north.
Which was a relief, since after days of travel they had left the bulk of Equestria behind them.
The last small towns and villages had faded away in the distance, and with them the last few changelings with caches of stored love to share amongst the refugees. Ahead of them lay… nothing. This far north the snow had already begun to claim the land. There were no pegasi weather teams or unicorn mages to force the seasons to change at their whim. Just a sharp line of demarcation between green grass and icy snow.
Chrysalis stood at the front of her column of changelings, and stared off into the snow covered distance. Behind her her subjects went silent and still, watching and waiting.
Her hoof made a crunching sound as she took her first step into the snow.
The Others were neither Unicorns, nor Pegasi, but they could do some of the things either
race could do. Things that the Tribe of the Clear Earth couldn’t do for themselves. Things that would make life more bearable in the harsh lands they had settled. Perhaps even make life prosperous.
The Others were not sustained by the fruits of the land as the Tribe was. They drew off the ambient magic of the land, focused in the crystals of their caves. Crystals that drew in but a trickle of magic.
But when charged with earth magic of one of the Tribe, they could feed The Other’s for days. Just being around a healthy member of the Tribe was enough to charge the crystals without harm.
And so the pact was made, and the Tribe of the Clear Earth and The Others joined together to tame the frozen wastes. The Earth Ponies built their homes from the crystals of the mountains, which so well matched their strangely colored coats. And The Others fed off the magic of the crystals, using it to warm the skies and the earth, and shield their home from the elements.
They helped to change the frozen wasteland into fruitful meadows, and changed the fate of the Tribe. And so the ponies began calling them The Changers, because they were no longer The Others.
The oldest, most dense, most powerful crystal in The Changer's caverns was drawn from the earth and carried into the new village, to sit at its heart and symbolize the way The Tribe of the Clear Earth and The Changers had come together as one
Centuries later, when Wendigoes arose from the hatred between the Three Tribes and buried their lands in ice, the ponies and changers of the Crystal Empire barely noticed. The beasts of snow and malice gave the empire a wide berth.
There was little hatred there for them to feed upon.
She dreamt.
The storms and waterspouts were behind her now, and the ocean itself had grown calm and almost placid. No longer was she assailed by enormous waves or harsh gales.
Instead it was icy waters and a constant, freezing wind.
Her chitin no longer felt waterlogged, nor could she feel the drag of her wings or the aches of her limbs. She could hardly feel anything at all anymore. Just the endless cold, seeping into her. Sapping her energy and will, draining her of life and hope.
But it was so close now. So very close, the island. There were blue skies above it, and green grass and tall trees. She could tell that it was warm there. So warm and inviting. All she had to do was reach its shores, and she could rest.
She’d come so far. Too far to stop now.
She forced her frozen limbs to keep moving.
Chrysalis forced her frozen limbs to keep moving.
It was hard. Everything was hard. It was hard to see through the swirling snow. Hard to hear through the howling winds. Hard to move with the ice built up across her carapace. Hard to force herself forward, with the cruel winds cutting through the gaps in her chitin.
But still she pressed on, leading the column of changelings behind her. Keeping them moving through force of will alone.
The love in the air was stronger here. Much stronger. Under better conditions, it would likely be enough to sustain a changeling indefinitely. But not under these conditions. Here, in this frozen wasteland, it took every erg of energy and then some to keep from freezing solid.
Already changelings had begun to collapse. She’d ordered the healthy to carry the exhausted. It would tire them out more quickly of course. It wouldn’t be long before there were more comatose changelings than healthy ones to carry them. But she refused to leave anyling behind.
It might well be that she was foolishly leading her people to their destruction a second time. But if that was the case, at least they would face their fate together when the end came.
The End came in the shape of a pony.
A thing of shadows and hatred, malice and darkness. All hidden by magic and guile.
Wearing a pleasant guise, it slipped past both Pony and Changer, and arrived at the very Heart of the Empire before striking.
Empowered by the crystals, it spread its dark magic throughout the land. The foul taint subjugated the ponies, robbing them of their will and their memories. Turning them into naught but slaves.
But they did not have the worst of it. Because while the ponies lived with magic, the Changers lived off of magic. They had grown used to drawing in the ambient magic of the crystals, and of their fellow citizens. They had grown dependent on it. And the Shadow King had tainted both with his darkness.
The Changers drew in his taint, and were themselves Changed. The King's magic stole love from those it touched and left an empty void in its stead. An emptiness that left its mark on their bodies and limbs of the Changers. An emptiness they felt compelled to fill the only way they knew how; by drawing it from those around them.
But his foul magic did not just take. It also gave, and left it's taint upon them. The Shadow King had made his way to the Heart using shadows, lies, and comely seemings. And a portion of these foul powers stained those who ignorantly consumed his dark magics.
When all was said and done, the Changers were left pained and broken, with holes in their bodies to match the holes in their hearts and a taint of dark magic and illusion clinging to their souls.
And thus were the Changelings born.
She dreamt?
It was hard to tell. The line between waking and sleeping had blurred.
Grey skies.
Cold water and icy wind.
Waves of water, mounds of snow.
The struggle of forcing her legs to move.
Reality and dream blended together, merged, and separated again at unknown intervals.
Both were so similar. And in both there was a break in the clouds before her. An island of light and life and love.
She just needed to press on.
Chrysalis opened her eyes. It was hard, due to the ice encrusting her face. She was almost certain she was awake, but what lay before her and her exhausted changelings seemed more like a dream.
Before her was a line of demarcation, drawn sharp and clear in the snow. On one side, an ice wasteland. On the other…
Life. Green grass, swaying trees, sunshine, and love. So very much love. So much love it practically hummed as it saturated the air. Love enough for every changeling in the past five generations to eat their fill and barely dent it.
She took a shaky step forward…
And her face slammed against a familiar shining pink barrier.
Their sudden metamorphosis had been too much, and the Changelings fled, scattering away from the shadows and darkness. Away from their home.
The Shadow King just laughed and let them flee. He had his slaves. He had no need for the changed Changers. His magic alone was enough. He believed his power unassailable. He believed the crystal’s of the Empire would ascend him to godhood. He believed himself invincible.
He was wrong.
And he was vengeful in his defeat.
When the panicked Changelings calmed enough to return home, they found themselves without a home to return to.
She dreamt.
She dreamt it was all a lie.
She’d worked so hard. Pushed so far. Endured for so long. She had finally reached the edge of the island…
Only to find its shores surrounded by a circle of hungry, merciless sharks.
She was so tired of fighting. So tired of swimming, of treading water. Once she may had had the strength to fight past these monsters. Once. But not anymore. Not now.
Now she barely had the strength to keep herself afloat.
Or did she have even that?
She could feel her eyes drifting shut, the cold sapping the last of her strength. Her head began to slide forward, her limbs stilling…
What was this sudden feeling of warmth?
Chrysalis could feel the tingle of magic against her face where she had collapsed against the barrier. She could feel the cold wind biting ever deeper into the flesh beneath her carapace. And she could feel…
Concern? Confusion? Love? Directed at her.
With a monumental effort, she forced her eyes open.
There, on the other side of the shimmering magical barrier, stood ponies. Not normal earth ponies, or pegasi, or unicorns. Though a few of those were mixed in. But strange ponies, with coats that shined and shimmered like gemstones in the bright light of their home.
As strange as that was, what she felt from them was stranger still. There was none of the fear or anger or disgust she felt from normal ponies. That she could feel right now from the few Equestrian guards she could see milling aout worriedly.
Instead she felt a sense of… welcoming?
Her eyes closed.
The sharks began to disperse and swim away.
The barrier fell.
The shore was so close now… But she had nothing left. She was empty. Drained.
She collapsed forward onto the green grass, too tired to move her legs.
But the waves themselves became her ally, gently nudging her forward as they lapped upon the beach, as if trying to make up for all the time they had spent punishing her.
Crystalline legs reached down to lift her from the cold ground, pulling her to her hooves. Bodies pressed to either side of her, sharing their warmth and gently leading her forward.
Through blurry eyes she could see more and more crystal ponies silently stepping forward, their expressions calm but concerned. One by one they gathered the stunned and drained changeling from behind her. Helping those who could stand walk, and carrying those who couldn’t.
The wall of sharks had broken, but she could sense more of them around her. Circling and watching and waiting as she was slowly washed towards shore.
There were Equestrian Royal Guards on the streets. She could feel their stares, sense their unease, their fear, their loathing. They knew how to deal with criminals. They knew how to deal with monsters. And they knew how to deal with changelings, which they considered both.
But they did not know how to deal with this.
When the mob of crystal ponies calmly and quietly carrying the half dead changelings reached their lines, they did nothing. And the procession quietly swirled around them without so much as a shove or a rude word.
For the first time in ages, she could feel something besides water against her hooves. Something warm and rough and gritty. Sand. The waves had almost carried her to shore…
The edges of the main plaza were packed with ponies. There was a smattering of nervous guards and Equestrians, but the vast majority were crystal ponies. They stood there silently, but with small smiles on their faces, as if they were happily awaiting something, but couldn’t quite remember what.
The procession retained its slow, steady pace, and Chrysalis summoned enough strength to lift her head and gaze straight ahead. There was a castle there, a massive creation of magic and crystal. But below it, in the heart of the city was something.
Something.. so very…
Bright.
It was so very bright on the beach. Bright and warm and wonderful. For the first time she could remember she was no longer drowning. For the first time in ages, she had solid ground beneath her hooves and barrel. The feeling of safety, of finally being able to rest, was indescribable.
Calm and warmth and love seemed to pour into her, filling spaces and gaps she hadn’t even realized existed.
Bit by bit she could feel the holes in her legs begin to close up, her horn straightening, her magic being cleansed.
Chrysalis stopped dreaming.
Her people were Home.
It was a familiar dream. The same dream she always had, really. The details changed from time to time, but the heart of it remained the same.
She was adrift in the ocean, lost and alone. She turned her head left and right, but there was nothing in sight. Just the gray sky above and the gray waves below, stretching into the distance. The horizon was an unbroken line all around her; no ships, no land, no other living things. Just emptiness.
She kicked her hooves slowly, forcing her head to stay above the water. The waves were small this time, but each wavelet that struck her seemed to sap a bit more of her energy. And she had so very little energy left.
She was tired. So very tired.
Some nights she swam. Picked a direction and drove forward as long and as hard as she could, hoping to find something. Hoping to find anything. But not tonight. Tonight she just treaded water as best she could, and stared at the unbroken horizon.
It was harder and harder to keep herself afloat. The wings on her back were too weak to lift her free from the ocean surrounding her. They served only to drag her down. The cold water leeched the heat and strength from her limbs, even as it waterlogged her chitin. And the growing holes in her legs did not make it any easier to tread water.
But still she struggled to keep herself afloat. Because what else was she to do?”
Chrysalis’s eyes blinked open.
With a sigh, the Queen of the Changelings sat up and took in her surroundings.
The cave was dank and dark and cramped. Around her, the remains of her hive lay stretched out on the cold, unforgiving stone, sleeping and trying to conserve their energy. It was not a large cave. But it was no longer a large hive either. Little more than two hundred changelings remained.
That wasn’t to say that only two hundred changelings survived. Chrysalis tried to take some comfort in that fact. Their expulsion from Canterlot had scattered her people far and wide. This was merely the group she had succeeded in gathering together. In truth, it had been quite some time since she bothered to actively draw in more of her subjects. There was little point in doing so.
Her changelings were likely better off scattered as they were. A lone changeling might well eke out a living somewhere, draining ambient love, affectionate animals, and occasionally impersonating a well-liked pony. Massed together, they required a steady stream of love be brought in by infiltrators and gatherers. But now that the ponies knew of their existence, both of those roles had become far more dangerous.
That was the reason she hadn’t bothered to return home to the Badlands. The hive had lived there in isolation to protect its secrecy. And secrecy allowed the hive’s gatherer’s to freely move back and forth with their collected love.
But now that isolation would turn their home into a mausoleum. The Equestrian Military was onto them now. There were guards and patrols. Obstacles and roadblocks. The hive had barely been able to sustain itself there when the ponies were ignorant of the existence of changelings. With the veil of secrecy stripped away…
She had failed her people. She could see that clearly now. It had been her decision to invade Equestria. To attack Canterlot. She had committed the most unforgivable sin of a ruler. She had bet the future of her subjects on a roll of the dice.
And she had lost.
And now her changelings faced the most dire straits they had ever experienced. Worse than even the myths and legends of the time before the Joining, or even the era of The Corruption and Loss. In a thousand years, what would her rule be called, she wondered?
Would there be anyling left to pass on the stories?
Walking quietly to the mouth of the cave, Chrysalis stared up into the heavens above her hive’s temporary home. The sky was a bright, clear blue, the terrain around her tan and rocky. So why she feel like she was surrounded by endless waves and grey skies?
She was dreaming.
She was dreaming the same dream as always. Lost. Alone. Water logged and hopeless. The effort to just keep her head above the waves was draining and debilitating. All around here the horizon ran unbroken, a thin line between the gray waves and the gray sky.
Except…
Except something was different.
She squinted her eyes and stared. There, far off in the distance, was a speck. Nothing more. Just a tiny black dot in the distance. A break in the horizon.
Something was out there.
She didn’t know what direction it lay in. There was neither sun nor stars to guide her in this barren place. But she hardly needed them when all she had to do was hold a steady course on the only object in sight.
With renewed vigor, Chrysalis began to swim slowly in the only direction she could discern. Forward.
Something was different.
Chrysalis could feel it in the air. Something had changed. She felt… energized. Like the air itself carried a faint trace of love. The entire hive could feel it. It felt… Good.
The sentries posted outside reported seeing a strange disturbance in the sky. Ribbons of color dancing across the heavens, like the Aurora Borealis she had heard stories of from the previous Queen. But that made little sense. Everyone knew that the dancing lights only existed far to the north, where Changelings had once called home. They were never seen this far south.
There was something out there. Something that drew her focus and attention. Something that seemed to tug at her very soul.
The last time she had felt such a draw, it had led her to Canterlot. To the pink alicorn Princess. And to the disaster of the royal wedding.
There had been something about that place and that mare as well. Something that made her think of old stories and shared memories. Of times before The Loss.
Did she dare follow the pull? Dare to risk her people on yet another gamble? Could they survive another such disaster?
Could they survive as they were?
Long ago in ages past, long before the Wendigos, or Hearthwarming, the Three Tribes bickered and fought amongst themselves, each seeking dominance over the others.
But the Earth Ponies, Pegasi, and Unicorns fought not only each other, but amongst themselves as well. In an unforgiving age, merely being the same race of pony was not enough to ensure harmony.
The Tribe of the Clear Earth were not welcomed amongst the other Earth Ponies. And so they left, traveling far away in hopes of leaving the suffering and strife of their peers behind.
They headed north.
Chrysalis led her hive away from their temporary home that evening. There were no complaints.
They headed north.
She dreamt.
Night after night she dreamt. But now the dreams changed. They differed night by night. Calm seas were often replaced by rough waters, the waves roiling and crashing around her, submerging her again and again. Hazards and obstacles she had never before seen emerged from the heavens. Storms and water spouts and raging winds.
But she swam on as hard as she could. She ignored the pain in her limbs, the itch of her waterlogged chitin. The burning in her muscles and her lungs. She kept her eyes focused on the horizon. On the black dot she was sure was an island. A distant shore in the endless sea of nothing.
Each night it grew closer.
It was increasingly difficult to evade the patrols.
Chryalis’s hive was small, and she did her best to guide them around cities and villages alike. But even such a small group drew attention as it passed. Especially when they lacked the energy to alter their appearances.
The Equestrian’s were growing more and more nervous, and therefore more and more wary and defensive. Each town they bypassed had more and more guards patrolling their streets, more and more pegasi patrolling the skies. It would be difficult, if not impossible to infiltrate such defenses, let alone defeat them.
Not that Chrysalis cared.
So had no intention of fighting the ponies. Her goal, whatever it truly was, lay far to the north. This much she knew. Whether she was leading her subjects to slaughter or salvation, she was uncertain. But she knew there was no direction to go but forward.
The Tribe of the Clear Earth marched ever onward, driven by their stubborn determination. They marched past green valleys and fertile plains. They marched far to the north, where the Earth lay dormant under snow and ice, and the sky itself glowed at night in a dancing rainbow of colors, reflecting off their coats.
Here they would make their home, far from their brethren. Far from anyplace a sane pony would wish to dwell. They’d turn this inhospitable land into their home. A home nopony else would wish to or dare try to take from them.
She dreamt.
It was an island, of that there was no longer any doubt.
It was hard to see, through the raging seas and stormy skies. But she could make out that much. Just for an instant, when she was at the peak of a particularly large wave, and the clouds parted, she could see it.
Solid land. A place to rest. A place to recover.
Hope.
Tired and drained, still she struggled, forcing her limbs to move. To propel her closer and closer to that distant shore. It was so very far away, she wanted to cry. To give up. But she couldn’t. Not now.
Not when she finally had something to strive for in sight.
It should have been impossible to keep her subjects fed on their long march. Even such a small group needed to stop and scavenge periodically. But there was no hope of infiltrating the towns and cities they passed, even if Chrysalis had been willing to stop.
There was a strange taste to the air, a background hum of magic and love that energized her people, driving them forward. But it was far from enough to sustain anyling. They needed more concentrated love to survive.
And they received it.
Chrysalis had stopped calling her subjects to her long ago. What was the point in concentrating what was left of her people into one place? The only purpose it would serve would be to allow them all to die together in one place. No, she did nothing to summon those changelings she passed in her journey.
And yet they followed nonetheless.
Every mile they traveled, every town and village they passed brought more changeling back to her hive. The Royal Equestrian guard protected the citizens of Equestria with vigor, but they were worried about infiltration, not exfiltration.
Some changelings joined the hive hungry and destitute of course. But many of them brought all the love they had been able to gather for themselves, and shared it amongst their fellows.
It wasn’t much, but along with the energy in the air, it was enough to sustain the entire hive.
It wasn’t long before their numbers had swelled into the thousands.
Life was hard for the Tribe. There were no pegasi to control the weather, no unicorns to weave spells of warmth or protective shields. Everything had to be done by hoof and mouth. There was never enough food, or shelter, or warmth. Day by day things looked grimmer and grimmer for their people.
And then they found The Others.
They found them while prospecting deep in the snow covered mountains. Far below the frozen surface, in dank icy caves they lived. Strange creatures that had horns like unicorns, but not the same. Wings like pegasi, but not the same. And bodies like Earth ponies, but not the same.
But they had come to this desolate place because nopony had wanted to live beside such strange creatures. And that was the same. They survived by drawing in the ambient magic and energy of the crystals that surrounded their caves, but there was never enough ‘food’ for them, or enough shelter. And that was the same. They were all alone, and their future looked grim. And that too was the same.
She dreamt.
The waters had grown colder and more frigid even as the storms and waterspouts began to fade away. The icy sea sapped her strength and will, chilling her to the bone.
But the land was closer than ever now. She could see it more clearly each time she dreamt of it. The skies remained grey and overcast, but every now and then there was a tiny break in the clouds, and sunlight streamed down upon her destination.
It made the land glow with a golden light.
The taste of love in the air had grown stronger day by day. It was nearly enough to sustain a changeling, this far north.
Which was a relief, since after days of travel they had left the bulk of Equestria behind them.
The last small towns and villages had faded away in the distance, and with them the last few changelings with caches of stored love to share amongst the refugees. Ahead of them lay… nothing. This far north the snow had already begun to claim the land. There were no pegasi weather teams or unicorn mages to force the seasons to change at their whim. Just a sharp line of demarcation between green grass and icy snow.
Chrysalis stood at the front of her column of changelings, and stared off into the snow covered distance. Behind her her subjects went silent and still, watching and waiting.
Her hoof made a crunching sound as she took her first step into the snow.
The Others were neither Unicorns, nor Pegasi, but they could do some of the things either
race could do. Things that the Tribe of the Clear Earth couldn’t do for themselves. Things that would make life more bearable in the harsh lands they had settled. Perhaps even make life prosperous.
The Others were not sustained by the fruits of the land as the Tribe was. They drew off the ambient magic of the land, focused in the crystals of their caves. Crystals that drew in but a trickle of magic.
But when charged with earth magic of one of the Tribe, they could feed The Other’s for days. Just being around a healthy member of the Tribe was enough to charge the crystals without harm.
And so the pact was made, and the Tribe of the Clear Earth and The Others joined together to tame the frozen wastes. The Earth Ponies built their homes from the crystals of the mountains, which so well matched their strangely colored coats. And The Others fed off the magic of the crystals, using it to warm the skies and the earth, and shield their home from the elements.
They helped to change the frozen wasteland into fruitful meadows, and changed the fate of the Tribe. And so the ponies began calling them The Changers, because they were no longer The Others.
The oldest, most dense, most powerful crystal in The Changer's caverns was drawn from the earth and carried into the new village, to sit at its heart and symbolize the way The Tribe of the Clear Earth and The Changers had come together as one
Centuries later, when Wendigoes arose from the hatred between the Three Tribes and buried their lands in ice, the ponies and changers of the Crystal Empire barely noticed. The beasts of snow and malice gave the empire a wide berth.
There was little hatred there for them to feed upon.
She dreamt.
The storms and waterspouts were behind her now, and the ocean itself had grown calm and almost placid. No longer was she assailed by enormous waves or harsh gales.
Instead it was icy waters and a constant, freezing wind.
Her chitin no longer felt waterlogged, nor could she feel the drag of her wings or the aches of her limbs. She could hardly feel anything at all anymore. Just the endless cold, seeping into her. Sapping her energy and will, draining her of life and hope.
But it was so close now. So very close, the island. There were blue skies above it, and green grass and tall trees. She could tell that it was warm there. So warm and inviting. All she had to do was reach its shores, and she could rest.
She’d come so far. Too far to stop now.
She forced her frozen limbs to keep moving.
Chrysalis forced her frozen limbs to keep moving.
It was hard. Everything was hard. It was hard to see through the swirling snow. Hard to hear through the howling winds. Hard to move with the ice built up across her carapace. Hard to force herself forward, with the cruel winds cutting through the gaps in her chitin.
But still she pressed on, leading the column of changelings behind her. Keeping them moving through force of will alone.
The love in the air was stronger here. Much stronger. Under better conditions, it would likely be enough to sustain a changeling indefinitely. But not under these conditions. Here, in this frozen wasteland, it took every erg of energy and then some to keep from freezing solid.
Already changelings had begun to collapse. She’d ordered the healthy to carry the exhausted. It would tire them out more quickly of course. It wouldn’t be long before there were more comatose changelings than healthy ones to carry them. But she refused to leave anyling behind.
It might well be that she was foolishly leading her people to their destruction a second time. But if that was the case, at least they would face their fate together when the end came.
The End came in the shape of a pony.
A thing of shadows and hatred, malice and darkness. All hidden by magic and guile.
Wearing a pleasant guise, it slipped past both Pony and Changer, and arrived at the very Heart of the Empire before striking.
Empowered by the crystals, it spread its dark magic throughout the land. The foul taint subjugated the ponies, robbing them of their will and their memories. Turning them into naught but slaves.
But they did not have the worst of it. Because while the ponies lived with magic, the Changers lived off of magic. They had grown used to drawing in the ambient magic of the crystals, and of their fellow citizens. They had grown dependent on it. And the Shadow King had tainted both with his darkness.
The Changers drew in his taint, and were themselves Changed. The King's magic stole love from those it touched and left an empty void in its stead. An emptiness that left its mark on their bodies and limbs of the Changers. An emptiness they felt compelled to fill the only way they knew how; by drawing it from those around them.
But his foul magic did not just take. It also gave, and left it's taint upon them. The Shadow King had made his way to the Heart using shadows, lies, and comely seemings. And a portion of these foul powers stained those who ignorantly consumed his dark magics.
When all was said and done, the Changers were left pained and broken, with holes in their bodies to match the holes in their hearts and a taint of dark magic and illusion clinging to their souls.
And thus were the Changelings born.
She dreamt?
It was hard to tell. The line between waking and sleeping had blurred.
Grey skies.
Cold water and icy wind.
Waves of water, mounds of snow.
The struggle of forcing her legs to move.
Reality and dream blended together, merged, and separated again at unknown intervals.
Both were so similar. And in both there was a break in the clouds before her. An island of light and life and love.
She just needed to press on.
Chrysalis opened her eyes. It was hard, due to the ice encrusting her face. She was almost certain she was awake, but what lay before her and her exhausted changelings seemed more like a dream.
Before her was a line of demarcation, drawn sharp and clear in the snow. On one side, an ice wasteland. On the other…
Life. Green grass, swaying trees, sunshine, and love. So very much love. So much love it practically hummed as it saturated the air. Love enough for every changeling in the past five generations to eat their fill and barely dent it.
She took a shaky step forward…
And her face slammed against a familiar shining pink barrier.
Their sudden metamorphosis had been too much, and the Changelings fled, scattering away from the shadows and darkness. Away from their home.
The Shadow King just laughed and let them flee. He had his slaves. He had no need for the changed Changers. His magic alone was enough. He believed his power unassailable. He believed the crystal’s of the Empire would ascend him to godhood. He believed himself invincible.
He was wrong.
And he was vengeful in his defeat.
When the panicked Changelings calmed enough to return home, they found themselves without a home to return to.
She dreamt.
She dreamt it was all a lie.
She’d worked so hard. Pushed so far. Endured for so long. She had finally reached the edge of the island…
Only to find its shores surrounded by a circle of hungry, merciless sharks.
She was so tired of fighting. So tired of swimming, of treading water. Once she may had had the strength to fight past these monsters. Once. But not anymore. Not now.
Now she barely had the strength to keep herself afloat.
Or did she have even that?
She could feel her eyes drifting shut, the cold sapping the last of her strength. Her head began to slide forward, her limbs stilling…
What was this sudden feeling of warmth?
Chrysalis could feel the tingle of magic against her face where she had collapsed against the barrier. She could feel the cold wind biting ever deeper into the flesh beneath her carapace. And she could feel…
Concern? Confusion? Love? Directed at her.
With a monumental effort, she forced her eyes open.
There, on the other side of the shimmering magical barrier, stood ponies. Not normal earth ponies, or pegasi, or unicorns. Though a few of those were mixed in. But strange ponies, with coats that shined and shimmered like gemstones in the bright light of their home.
As strange as that was, what she felt from them was stranger still. There was none of the fear or anger or disgust she felt from normal ponies. That she could feel right now from the few Equestrian guards she could see milling aout worriedly.
Instead she felt a sense of… welcoming?
Her eyes closed.
The sharks began to disperse and swim away.
The barrier fell.
The shore was so close now… But she had nothing left. She was empty. Drained.
She collapsed forward onto the green grass, too tired to move her legs.
But the waves themselves became her ally, gently nudging her forward as they lapped upon the beach, as if trying to make up for all the time they had spent punishing her.
Crystalline legs reached down to lift her from the cold ground, pulling her to her hooves. Bodies pressed to either side of her, sharing their warmth and gently leading her forward.
Through blurry eyes she could see more and more crystal ponies silently stepping forward, their expressions calm but concerned. One by one they gathered the stunned and drained changeling from behind her. Helping those who could stand walk, and carrying those who couldn’t.
The wall of sharks had broken, but she could sense more of them around her. Circling and watching and waiting as she was slowly washed towards shore.
There were Equestrian Royal Guards on the streets. She could feel their stares, sense their unease, their fear, their loathing. They knew how to deal with criminals. They knew how to deal with monsters. And they knew how to deal with changelings, which they considered both.
But they did not know how to deal with this.
When the mob of crystal ponies calmly and quietly carrying the half dead changelings reached their lines, they did nothing. And the procession quietly swirled around them without so much as a shove or a rude word.
For the first time in ages, she could feel something besides water against her hooves. Something warm and rough and gritty. Sand. The waves had almost carried her to shore…
The edges of the main plaza were packed with ponies. There was a smattering of nervous guards and Equestrians, but the vast majority were crystal ponies. They stood there silently, but with small smiles on their faces, as if they were happily awaiting something, but couldn’t quite remember what.
The procession retained its slow, steady pace, and Chrysalis summoned enough strength to lift her head and gaze straight ahead. There was a castle there, a massive creation of magic and crystal. But below it, in the heart of the city was something.
Something.. so very…
Bright.
It was so very bright on the beach. Bright and warm and wonderful. For the first time she could remember she was no longer drowning. For the first time in ages, she had solid ground beneath her hooves and barrel. The feeling of safety, of finally being able to rest, was indescribable.
Calm and warmth and love seemed to pour into her, filling spaces and gaps she hadn’t even realized existed.
Bit by bit she could feel the holes in her legs begin to close up, her horn straightening, her magic being cleansed.
Chrysalis stopped dreaming.
Her people were Home.