I remember when I first opened my eyes.

“And this one?”

“Female. Born one hour, sixteen minutes ago. Twin birth.”

I couldn’t see the blurry forms in my vision.

“Twins eh? Well let’s see here.”

I didn’t know the sensation of touch.

“No physical deformities to be seen. Good. Next?”

I didn’t understand the sounds.

“Female. Born one hour, twenty minutes ago. Twin-”

“No. No no, see here, the horn is shaped slightly wrong. And the torso is too small. Disposal.”

“Yes sir.”

I would understand later.

---

Childhood was a wonderful experience. Sure, Mother and I were a part of the lowest echelons of society, but life was simple. I played with the other children, ran through the streets with them, taunted the guards, fought and argued over youthful trivialities. Just young bundles of energy absent of any need to worry.

Some days I would help Mother watch the store. It was a small store, in a tiny, nameless neighborhood. But every day it was filled with the familiar faces of our little community, coming each day to pick up what they needed, or just to say hello to Mother. We didn’t have much, but we had what we needed. Mother was always proud of what we had. We had our store, we had our neighbors, and we had each other. For us, it was all we could ever ask for.

It was a few weeks before my twelfth birthday when the latest rumor began its race through the lower classes. Rumors always spread quickly. They were daylong fantasies for the working class, a welcome distraction from the endless routine. A female Nobleblood had been spotted outside of the high district. One of the guards had sworn on his pride to have seen one wandering through the lower market square. The guards mobilized, and the lower city was abuzz with the news.

I had just been in the square myself, picking up a few things for mother. I didn’t see any Nobleblood, but then, who knew what they looked like? I of course had taken quickly to the rumor with all my young curiosity. I always wondered about the world above; the High District. We all did. None of us would ever visit such a place, but that didn’t mean we never heard the tales of luxury that trickled down to us lower citizens.

I trotted into our store, which was surprisingly empty of Mother. A hastily scrawled note explained she had forgotten to tell me of something we needed, and she had run out to the market herself to get it. I wondered how I missed seeing her flutter past. Shrugging, I began to restock the shelves of our store.

I was nearly finished when the first customer walked in. I turned around to greet them and found myself looking at a guard. Not one of the ordinary lower guards, in the grey armor, armed with clubs for beating the most troublesome of us children. This one was cloaked in a deep purple armor. His posture rang with purpose, and a well-polished poleaxe was strapped across his back.

“Citizen! I am here to ask if-” The guard seemed to lock up in surprise as he met my eyes. “Oh! Here you are! My apologies, Miss.” The guard knelt down to bow before me. “We had received word of you here in this filthy district. Please, tell me the name of your House, and I shall gladly arrange an escort to take you home.”

I could only stand there, utterly flabbergasted by the abnormal behavior of this guard. “Uhhhh…what?”

The guard ended his bow and raised an eyebrow. “Miss, are you feeling well? Do you have a fever, or any sort of injury to the head? Any confusion?”

They never asked how we were doing. What was this? I held a hoof to my head, trying to process the words so early in the morning. “Er, yes, I feel very confused. Um, why…what’s-”

The guard came close, looking me over. “Huh, your eyes are glazed over. I don’t know what this means, but it might not be good. Please Miss, come with me and I’ll take you to the physician immediately.”

He guided me out of my home as though I was some fragile treasure. Outside, I recognized the familiar faces of the community staring at the strange scene happening right before them. I would have been shocked too. A guard holding the hoof of a commoner. Who would have thought it possible? What a surreal sight.

“If you’re not well enough for flying, I can carry you back to where the captain is waiting, and we will order a chariot to take you back to your House from there.”

Finally, I was able to string a few coherent words together. “N-no! No, thank you mister, this is my house right here. I don’t know what’s going on, but my mother will-”

He scooped me up right then and there and began hovering above the ground. “Apologies little Miss, but I think you’re a little confused. We’ll get this all sorted out back in the High District.”

“No! I’m not- Stop! Put me down!” I squirmed in his unyielding grip.

“You! Get your hooves off my daughter!”

I looked down to see my mother galloping through a formed crowd of onlookers. Dropping the parcel from her mouth, she took a powerful leap, flapping her wings as she collided into us mid-air. She wrenched me out of the startled guard’s grip, and the three of us tumbled to the ground below. I lifted my head, groaning. My mother lay dazed on the ground next to me, while the guard quickly jumped to his hooves.

“Filth! How dare you interfere with the duty a Royal Warrior! And worse, assault a foal of the High Noble Houses!” He grit his teeth, and I heard the crowd of onlookers gasp as he grabbed the poleaxe with both hooves, rising to his hind legs as the deadly weapon hung above my mother. “Know your place!”

I felt a shiver pass through my bones as I watched the poleaxe descend. “No!” I leapt directly into the path of the oncoming weapon. I saw the guards eyes widen in panic as mine closed in fear.

I felt a tap on my left shoulder.

Slowly, I opened my eyes. The purple guard, and my surrounding friends and neighbors were frozen in absolute horror. I slowly turned my head to the left, and the well-polished poleaxe sat upon my shoulder. I was not surprised at the thin trickle of red beginning to trail down my shoulder. No, I was surprised to see my face, staring out from the blood-speckled reflection of the shiny metal. I remember thinking how strange it was to look into my eyes, and see two black circles emerging out of two pools of light blue.

---

No one knew what to do with me. The structure of our entire society was rooted in rules. Concrete, unarguable tenets of life, and I had went ahead and broken them.

I was placed under observation for a span of days. There were arguments as to where I should have been shipped off to, but it was decided that I would stay home with my mother. We could not leave, and I was watched, recorded, and tested throughout my observation period. There was a lot to observe. For one, I had things called “pupils” and “irises” in my eyes now. I grew something called a mane, a tiny little patch of greenish stringy things coming out of my head. I didn’t know what was so special about them, but it caused such a stir among the observers.

Mother and I did our best to keep some level of normalcy in our lives. We cleaned and restocked our little store over and over. We ate the food the observers provided. We lay in bed and told each other silly stories we had made up on the spot, and fell asleep holding each other. I loved her so much. What would happen if they took me away from her?

---

The Royal Breeder came on the day I turned twelve. I said goodbye to Mother while I was being ushered away. She silently mouthed a phrase to me and watched me go, standing at the entrance to our- her home. It wasn’t mine anymore. That’s what I was told. My mother had completed her purpose, and I would be tested to see if I was to have one. ‘The beginning of your true life’, is what the Royal Breeder told me.

“This must be very exciting for you,” she said as she looked down at me and smiled.

“Yes ma’am, it is,” I replied. To be honest, I was a little.

“Call me Den Mother.”

“Yes, Den Mother.”

She smiled again. It was an unsettlingly sincere smile.

“You are very good little one, aren’t you? Your mother raised you well.”

The image of my mother, mouthing quiet, final words to her daughter flashed through my mind.

‘Obey them.’

“Thank you, Den Mother.”

We boarded a carriage, and I fought down my sheer excitement to be flying inside of one for the very first time. I pulled myself away from the window and did my best to concentrate on Den Mother’s words. She went over the procedures to my “trial”, and what would happen if I were to pass. The years of my future rattled off Den Mother’s tongue like a clean, rehearsed list. But I could hear the fine print at the end of every sentence. ‘If you make it,’ it whispered.

“Will I get a name?” I asked, cutting her off mid-speech.

Den Mother stopped in her tracks, fixing me with a good glare.

“Never interrupt me when I am speaking.”

“I apologize, Den Mother,” I said, bending low in my seat before her.

She snorted once before tossing her head. “Your name will not be given until you have proven acceptable of having one,” I could sense it coming this time, “if you make it to that point in your life.” Yes, there it is.

“I fully intend to, Den Mother.”

She smiled again.

“Good.” She ran her eyes over my body, appraising me. “You are quite beautiful, you know. I’d never guess that you were born to the lower class had I not come and fetched you myself.” She found this fact terribly funny. “But your soon to be peers are just as beautiful, if not more so than you. They are bred for this life, and you are not.” Another smile. “You are a very, very beautiful mistake.”

Looking back, I was impressed at my younger self. The level of control I had over my emotions was near prodigal at my age.

“I understand, Den Mother.”

“Excellent.”

The carriage slowed, and I glanced out the window. Eyes widening, I pressed my snout into the glass.

I was amazed at the palace, to say the least. This great sprawling behemoth of indulgency was where I, a commoner, would live now. It was my home, and at the same time it was not. It was a beautiful structure nonetheless, and I found myself admiring it as the carriage touched down within its grounds. A row of guards lined the top of the outer walls, clad head to hoof in purple armor.

“Why are there so many guards?” I asked.

Den Mother didn’t miss a beat. “To keep us clean from the filth.”

The interior was just as opulent, bathed in rich metals, woods, and fabrics. More amazing to me, I had never seen floors look so clean before. I didn’t have much time to gawk at the cleanliness before I was ushered through a series of hallways and corners leading to a very ornate set of guarded doors. We stopped before the doors, and Den Mother laid a hoof along my shoulders.

“You will be judged by both the royalty and nobility. If you have any wish of passing, bow when they enter, answer only when you are asked, and do nothing more.”

“Yes, Den Mother.”

She nodded, and giving a glance to the door guards, we walked through the slowly creaking doors into a chamber. A long table and several different chairs formed a half circle around the room, raised slightly above a small platform sitting in the center of the floor that Den Mother was currently ushering me to. I stood atop the platform, and Den Mother took a few steps back from me, and we waited in the empty room. Before long a door opened, and I bowed immediately as a voice resounded through the chamber.

“Announcing their Royal Highnesses, High King Metamorphosis and Prince Cocoon of the Changeling Kingdom! Representing the Noble Houses, the Marquess of Nest, the Marquess of Libelle, the Marquess of Honeycomb, the Marquess of Mayfly, and the Marquess of Hornet!”

Through all the titles my head remained low, even after the names had finished echoing off the walls.

“Stand,” commanded a voice.

I lifted my head to meet the gazes of the seven males seated above me, their expressions ranging from intrigue, to indifference, to disgust. I nearly flinched at their physical appearances: so different, but so similar to the body I was growing into, all of them having different manes and pupils.

“We are here to discuss the possible new addition to the Royal Breeders.” The largest changeling spoke with a low, even double tone. I assumed him to be the king. The actual King. “This is an exceptional case, and I, as well as the Noble Council, will hear the truth of this matter before coming to a decision.”

The King gestured to the changeling seated to the far left. “Marquess Nest, what are the summary notes of your observer’s findings?”

“We are uncertain for the reason behind this phenomenon, your Highness. No case of a Lower Class Changeling transforming into what we see here has ever been recorded. Whether this female is a natural Nobleblooded changeling, or she is the start of a new mutation among the lower breeds, we do not know. In either case, the female seems to be developing into a viable Breeder. We need more time to conclude this, but for now, we strongly believe she will function as normal.”

The King gave a grunt of surprise. “Is that so? Very well then. Marquess Mayfly, what are your thoughts?”

One of the males on the right rose. “Your Highness, we frankly don’t care of House Nest’s findings, and believe this filth should be eradicated as soon as possible. A Lower Class changeling has no right to be among us of the High Class.” He turned his nose up and away, as though I was an offensive stench. “If she is allowed to be bred, she may contaminate our entire gene pool.”

My fight with control was quickly becoming a losing battle. Every word spoken by this male was like a stab wound. I knew we were thought of as lesser, but were we really so hated? Marquess or no, I wouldn’t-

“Then I shall be her Breeding sponsor.”

All eyes moved to the changeling who had risen from his seat to the direct right of the king.

“My Prince?” asked the Marquess of Mayfly, before his surprised expression shifted to a frown, “You cannot risk corruption of the Royal Bloodline for a Lower Class Changeling. ”

“My bloodline is the richest and strongest of the kingdom, Marquess,” the Prince voiced haughtily, “it can surely overcome any “lower class” blood this female might carry. Besides, it would be a waste if we discarded potential Breeders so haphazardly,” the Prince looked directly towards me and winked. “especially if the offspring turn out to be as beautiful as the Breeder herself.”

I remained expressionless as the Prince turned to the King, who had been listening silently. “Father, if a Lower Class can complete the normal training regimen for High Class breeders, surely she has proven herself to be as worthy as one of them, if not more so. Should she complete it, I will sponsor her. If it doesn’t work out, we can still discard her and the offspring if they are corrupted. Simple, yes?”

The King leaned his head down in thought. After a few minutes, he raised his head again. “Very well. This female is hereby accepted into the Royal Breeders. Pending completion of the standard training, she will be assigned to become Prince Cocoon’s future Breeder. This meeting is adjourned.” The King looked down at me, and for the first time, smiled. “Welcome to the High Class, young changeling.”

I bowed again as the leaders of the kingdom stood from their seats, and Den Mother ushered me out through the doors and into the beautiful hallway outside. She rubbed along my shoulders, trying to comfort me as my legs trembled beneath me.

---

I began to envy my life in the lower class. Sure there were many things we could not have, and we worked hard every day, but the act of surviving was not difficult, so long as you fulfilled your purpose. It was a very simple life. It was so much more strenuous to be a higher class changeling.

“You disgusting filth!”

We were expected to study the arts and read the literatures of several different cultures, as well as take up an instrument, if we had any talent for music. I truly enjoyed my studies of the Equestrian theatre, though. I would have loved to have been an actor, given the chance. There was, of course, the importance of manners when among the nobility, and the unending upkeep of our beauty.

“Please, please, stop! I can’t-”

“Are you begging me? Are you begging me to stop?”

“No, plea-AH!”

Normally, we females would never need to worry for our physical ability, flight endurance, or magical prowess. Those skills were for the males to worry about. The Breeders were a different breed, as it were. In the event of any invasion, and with the demise of the male changeling army, we were to come to the defense of the Royal Bloodlines and the members of the Nobility Court. This was only the lesser of two reasons why we trained ourselves so vigorously, however.

“A Warrior never begs! A Warrior always fights! Make me stop, filth! Make me!”

‘A healthy and strong breeder breeds healthy and strong offspring.’ This phrase was near worshipped by the Royal Breeders, a silent rule passed down through the ancient lines. The training we went through and the eventual physical, magical, and emotional tests given to us at our eighteenth year were our final challenge to become the perfect life-bearers. Our bodies needed to be perfect for the Noblebloods. If you were not perfect, you were not chosen to breed. If you were not bred, you had not fulfilled your purpose. If you had not fulfilled your purpose, the outcome was highly undesirable.

“You are nothing! Nothing but shit beneath my hooves!”

I stood in a circle with a mix of Breeders and Warriors alike. Warriors were male Middle Class Changelings who would volunteer to serve the kingdom as soldiers. Normally, the males and females were kept separate at all times, but training was an exception to the rule. It was believed that physical training with the stronger, more aggressive males would inspire the young Breeders to become stronger themselves, and it was definitely true.

Despite the obvious physical appearance between the High Class, and the Middle and Lower Classes, I never really saw any other differences between them. Living in the Lower Class, I expected the High Class changelings to be creatures of godly power and intellect, while living in the High Class taught me that the Lower Class changelings were savage, uncultured-

“Filth!”

Yes, that was the most common derogatory phrase.

In the middle of our jeering circle lay a young Warrior, being repeatedly beaten by an older and undoubtedly stronger Warrior. Here was another aspect of this life that I did not understand. The beatings were a regular part of training, and even encouraged among us. Weed out the weaklings, let the strongest dominate. That was the rule, and I found myself disagreeing with many of them But, I would obey them, as my mother advised me.

The circle was breaking up now, the beating finished. My closest friend, a Breeder female with a blue-green mane sweeping low to the ground, turned to me and smiled.

“Want to go do some wing-sprints with me?” She was a feisty little changeling, and I was surprised to learn that she was actually the daughter of the King. If she passed training with me, she would earn her title of Princess, as well as her name.

“I did wing-sprints yesterday. I’m going to do something else? I’ll find you later?”

“Sure,” she replied, running off, “see you later!”

I nodded back to her, and turned my attention to the male still lying on the ground, moaning in pain. He was undeniably weak. It had only been two years since I had become a Breeder, but I had quickly established myself as one of the strongest of the females. I had too much to lose to be weak. I hated weakness. I had been watching this male barely pass his days of training. From what I saw, he trained by only by himself, and had no one to call a friend.

I approached him. “Get up.”

He flinched away, holding his forelegs up protectively. “No, please-”

“Shut up and take my hoof.”

He unclenched his eyes, looking at me warily. I stomped my hoof impatiently and he quickly scrambled to his hooves.

“Oww...” he muttered

“Stop whining and follow me.”

I turned on my hooves and headed for the infirmary. Cautiously, he followed behind. We entered the small room, and I pointed for him to sit on one of the chairs. He immediately obeyed. I began to pull out various medical supplies, and he watched me sort through them silently. He yelped when I cleaned his cuts with alcohol.

I shook my head. “You’re weak.”

He slumped in his seat. “I know.”

I wrapped a bandage around one of his forelegs. “You need to get stronger.”

“Yeah…”

I punched him in one of his bruises and he yelped once more. “No, you NEED to get stronger.”

“I can’t!”

“Yes you can. Tomorrow, I’m going to start helping you train.”

The little Warrior looked at me for a long time. “Why?”

I began wrapping another large bandage along his barrel. “No changeling deserves to be beaten like this.”

I felt him shift, and suddenly felt him embrace me.

“Thank you,” he whispered into my neck.

---

“Den Mother, how do I know if I’m in love?

“What?”

I scuffed a hoof along the floor, suddenly embarrassed. “I want to know if I’m in love.”

She giggled. “Well, there’s no real way to explain it. It just happens, and you know right then and there.” She leaned in and whispered conspiratorially. “Is it one of those Warriors?”

I nodded my head.

“Oh, don’t worry, Breeders and Warriors fall in love all the time. We train close together through the most hormonal years of our lives. Of course we’re going to develop an attraction to one of them. Even I fell in love with a Warrior.”

I looked up at her. “Really?”

“Sure did! In fact, he’s the Warrior Captain now. And I’m the Royal Breeder. Isn’t that funny?”

“Yeah, it is.”

Den Mother knelt down to meet me at eye level.

“You’re going to be a good Breeder one day, little one. No changeling can deny it. You’ve already earned your place here in my book.” Den Mother reached her forelegs around to hold me. “I don’t know what you may have learned when you lived in the Lower Classes, but it doesn’t apply here. I don’t want to lose a Breeder as good as you just because you didn’t follow the rules. You can love,” she held my face between her hooves, “but never forget what your true purpose is.” She reached a hoof down to rub her pregnant belly.

I mimicked her, rubbing a hoof across my smooth stomach. I didn’t really agree with what she said, but the words of my mother, my real mother, rang through my head.

‘Obey them.’

“Okay, Den Mother."

---

As it turned out, it wasn’t actual love. I just really cared about that little Warrior. Under my guidance, he began to grow stronger. Through our training, we became close friends, him and I. It was a strong, solid bond we shared, and even the soon to be Princess warmed up to him, after some of her usual disdain.

Of course, that friendship did turn into love, in time. What can I say? It was a wonderful love, a first love complete with all the happiness and optimism that a first love granted. My training flew by in his company. Together, we passed our individual training tests. Top of the class in all categories, I might add. I suspect I was a good influence on him.

I knew that our time together would end. We both had our purposes in life to fulfill. He as a Warrior, and I as the new personal Breeder to our Prince. It was the same for many of the others as well. Almost all of my sister Breeders could be seen with the Warriors they loved, saying their last goodbyes.

“I wish this didn’t have to end.”

“Neither do I…but, we both have our purposes, right?”

“Yeah, right…”

“Hey. I’ll always love you, you know.”

“Heh, of course I know that, you idiot! I’ll always-”

“Ahh there you are!”

Prince Cocoon had walked right up to us. We broke apart immediately, bowing.

“Good evening, Your Highness.” We said in synchronization.

“Yes yes, good evening. Warrior, you are dismissed. Return to your quarters.”

“Yes, Your Highness.” And just like that, our goodbyes were done. The love of my life walked away, perhaps for the last time.

“Now, I hear my little Breeder has passed her training! I always knew you had it in you.”

“Thank you, Your Highness.”

“Now, I would like to get started with you immediately of course. Come to my chambers after dinner, and we shall put your breeding skills to the test.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“Wonderful! I look forward to seeing you soon.” And with that, the Prince flipped his tail and trotted away.

I made a decision right there and then. I turned and galloped away, where I had last seen my Warrior walking away. I caught up to him quickly, and he yelped as I tackled him, pulling him into the unoccupied infirmary station.

“What-” I silenced him quickly.

If I am to be a Breeder, then I will be the one to choose who breeds with me.”

---

The entire Kingdom mourned over the death of King Metamorphosis. Cocoon solemnly took the crown, promising to be as great a king as his father. I stood just behind him as he addressed the Changeling Kingdom from the balcony we stood upon together. The tears welling up in my eyes were true. However, I did not cry for the King. I cried for a nameless Warrior found dead, just yesterday, in the Lower Class Districts. I rubbed my stomach, extended just slightly.

---

The birth had gone easily. I had a son. My own, beautiful son. He was perfect. I held him as he cried, and I could not have been more filled with joy.

“Next?”

“Male. Born one hour, three minutes ago.”

The inspector stood at my bed. “I’ll have to check him now, Miss.”

“Okay.”

The inspector leaned over me, examining my precious child.

“Hmm, the horn is shaped wrong, and the torso is much too small. I’m sorry Miss.”

“What? No! He’s the King’s-”

“I’m sorry Miss, I’m just following procedure. You can always try again. Nurse, disposal.”

That word.

“Yes sir.”

The nurse pulled him right out of my arms.

“N-no! You can’t! No!”
It was happening again.

“Nurse!”

That one terrible word pushed at me. It reminded me of an old nightmare.

“Sedate her, quickly!”

No, it wasn’t a nightmare.

It was a memory.

A king, a prince, and two twin baby daughters.

One daughter had a slightly misshapen horn and a slender body.

A father and a brother silently watching her be taken away without protest.

Found in the filthy of the High Class by a scavenging female Lower Class Changeling.

---

King Cocoon was in his throne room, waiting for news and chatting with Den Mother. I made my way inside.

He leapt up at the sight of me. “Darling! What is the news?”

I looked at him impassively. “I have had a perfectly healthy son.”

He cheered. “Wonderful! A celebration is in order! Breeder, alert the servants immediately! We must-”

“He is not your son.”

King Cocoon froze, the stupid smile still plastered to his face. “What?”

“He is not your son,” I repeated simply.

‘Obey them.’

‘No.’

The King laughed. “Well, what a shame. I knew I should have killed that worthless Warrior the very minute I saw you two together.” He smiled. “Surprised?”

“No, I’m not,” I replied evenly, “who else could it have been? I can’t think of anyone more heartless.”

He snorted. “Well, anyways, I think I can in all confidence say you’ve earned a name now. How about, ‘Whore’? It fits perfectly.”

“I will name myself. I’ve earned as much, Brother.”

I took pleasure in seeing him recoil. “You-”

“Know?” I finished for him. “Yes, I do now. And it seems you had known all along, you disgusting bastard.”

“So what, you want to kill me? Take the throne out from under my hooves?”

“Sounds alright to me.”

His horn lit up, igniting a spear hanging from the wall. I was just slightly faster. My jagged horn sunk in deep through his right eye. I pulled away, and addressed my Den Mother, standing stock still in a corner of the throne room.

“Call the council, if you will. There’s going to be some changes around here.”

“Y-yes, Your Highness.”

Hmm, yes. ‘Changes.’ I like the sound of that. That’s what this was, a transition.

I think I’ve decided on my name.