//------------------------------// // Conspiracy // Story: The Glass Kingdom // by RainbowDoubleDash //------------------------------// Several days later… The room was dark, not out of any need for secrecy, but rather because the being that at the moment was calling himself Kristal Zati preferred it. It was more like home, and as much as he had wanted to leave that home for his new one, he still found that he missed aspects of it on occasion – hence why the room was also warm and clammy in addition to being dark. He regretted that he wasn’t going to get much time to enjoy his native environment, but the Zaldians had him under constant surveillance. He couldn’t disappear for too long. The room itself, located beneath one of the parks in Gotorleku Hiria, was strange to pony eyes. The walls were made of rock, but molded and smoothed out like a living thing, with an uneven floor and ceiling that Zati had no trouble standing on. There were several hidden doors that lead to the room, but any pony who somehow wandered into it would find nothing out of place. The room did not, and had never, contained anything out of the ordinary beyond what appeared to be a bizarre architectural decision. Even the corridors that lead to it let themselves out in publically-accessible places, never going anywhere near anything of importance. Even in Zaldia, there was nothing illegal about two ponies wanting a private place for their discussions. The worst that could happen were this room discovered was that it would get filled in with concrete, and that would hardly be a setback for any of the beings that made regular use of it. Zati felt a familiar buzzing down his horn, and smiled as his compatriot entered from another corridor. “Everything is proceeding as we had hoped,” he said, turning around to look his superior in the eye. “The Sorginbehat is essentially dissolved. The Guarsai’s numbers are being eviscerated as we speak, so many placed under arrest.” The other being, wearing a pony disguise of his own, considered. “Yes. Is it safe to assume that you’re using the arrests to extract some of our own?” “Of course,” Zati said with a bow. “They’ll be brought to some prison, forgotten about, then extracted when no one is looking anymore. New identities can be created for them.” “Excellent,” the other being said, stepping forward. With a sigh and a flash of green light like fire, he sloughed off his disguise and assumed his – her – true form. Zati took it as an excuse to do likewise. “Ispelu Magikoa?” Zati asked, his voice now having a distinctive buzz to it. The other nodded. “Prison for the rest of his life,” she said. Her own voice buzzed as well now, but deeper, which went well with her taller stature. “King Tronua wanted execution. I convinced him to stay his hoof. Pointless waste of food.” Zati shifted at that. “I don’t agree,” he said. “He is a powerful diviner. If any being in this world can come up with a way to see through our disguises…” The other smiled brightly, showing off her fangs, wings letting out a long droning buzz. The sweet taste of mirth permeated the air. “What, Clavus? He will, from prison, tell the world that his land is being invaded by giant insects who can appear as anypony? He will be considered mad.” Zati – or Clavus, his true name – still didn’t agree, but his hive lord had made her choice clear – he could taste that too. Clavus was but a drone. He could voice disagreements, and indeed, this hive lord even encouraged such, but once the hive lord made a decision, it was final. “What now, lord Pleurite?” Clavus asked, changing the subject. “The long game again,” Pleurite said, stepping around Clavus as she spoke, now tasting of confidence, a strong flavor that Clavus couldn’t help but eating. “We shall move more changelings into position as these ponies and griffins and camels and others fight amongst themselves. Soon this entire nation will be ours. Then we can start moving on the real target. Then, the Queen can bring forth the Hive to the promised land.” Clavus watched Pleurite as she spoke and walked, grimacing a little at her words and plans for the future. Pleurite noticed the taste of that worry, and Clavus flinched. “We’ll be bringing so many more changelings,” he said. “So many more stomachs to fill…” Pleurite faltered in her pacing, standing still as she considered Clavus’ words, worry now fermenting the air from her as well. “This world is a cornucopia,” she said at length, closing her eyes. “There’s…there’s…enough. Enough food, enough love. For all of us.” She looked to Clavus. “We’re making sure of it. We’ll be ready for them.” Clavus knew on an intellectual level that Pleurite was speaking the truth. In a way, they were like pony farmers. They were ripping out the weeds and spreading the seed that would prepare this world, this promised land, for the Queen and the Hive – the thousands and thousands and thousands of changelings waiting for a way onto this world that was brimming with so much food and love. But for now Clavus and Pleurite and all the other infiltrators had it to themselves. More love than they could ever consume in a thousand lifetimes of gluttony was theirs for the taking. And a small, tiny part of Clavus, a part that wasn’t going to go away, was worried that once the whole of the Hive and the voracious Queen herself came through…that the love and food would run out. Hunger gnawed forever at the stomach of every changeling. It wasn’t so bad on this world, wasn’t a driving force that dominated their every thought. But it was always there, at the back of their minds and a tiny ache in belly… Pleurite let out a low hiss, and shook her head, scents and tastes of determination now coming off of her. “We can’t stop the Hive or the Queen from coming…and we shouldn’t want to. And if we tried, the Queen would take all our love and leave us as husks if we were lucky.” The hive lord turned on Clavus, moving right up to him so that she could use the extra head of height she had on him to stare down at the drone. “We are here for the Hive, we are preparing the way for the Hive. It’s all for the Hive. Understood?” Clavus swallowed. “Yes. For the Hive.” Pleurite stared down at him a moment more. Her tongue flicked out, tasting his emotions. She wouldn’t taste any deception – he was truthful, even if he didn’t like it. He didn’t have to like it, he just had to do it. Still, resigned obedience didn’t taste good, and so after a moment Pleurite stepped away from him. “Go. Prepare yourself for extraction and reassignment. Your current role has run its course.” She considered, then looked back to him. “Get arrested if possible. But nothing too…noticeable.” “Of course,” the Clavus said. “What about you?” “My role continues,” the hive lord said, slipping back into her disguise so that she – now he – could roll his eyes – an action that was physiologically impossible for the multifaceted eyes of a changeling. The annoyance was palpable enough that even a pony might have tasted it “What is the Zaldian saying…da zer da. It is what it is.” Clavus slipped back into his disguise as Kristal Zati and went out a different exit, of course. After all, it wouldn’t do to have a member of the Guarsai, an organization currently out of favor with the Zaldian King, to be seen associating with Ohar Garai, the king’s closest friend.