Art Giveaway #19 - The Old Masters

Sometimes ideas from others can be very inspiring. The concept from MeTaL-GuArD was complex and detailed, but was supposed to depict a "Changling ancestor" who was "Scarab-like" and standing in a pose of superiority and scorn.

From that and a sample picture, I got this concept of a "master race" who kept what we know as Changlings as slaves. This picture and this small introductory story are based on that (the detail of which is the reason I've fallen behind on my goal of posting a new pic daily):


Also posted to FimFiction: www.fimfiction.net/story/21205…

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Everypony knows of the olden cities: the crumbling structures and the odd glyphs that lie within; telling a story that nopony living knew how to deciper... no pony until now. 

I was always told (and once believed) that the writings would remain forever shrouded in history... that my cutie mark heralded only failure and disappointment. But in time I realized that there's no such thing as a cutie mark earned in vain and if I were ever to find validation, it would only be by embracing my talent completely.

It's not that I ever expected to reach some great revelation, but I thought that there must be something... a new paradigm or a clue... something that would justify all the dangers I'd faced; all the times I stared the Grim Pony in the face. 

My search has lasted for decades. Along the way, my body and mind have broken and mended in and endless cycle of hope and despair... Celestia knows I've come close to abandoning my study almost as many times as the sun has risen. But it was worth it... praise the sisters... it was all worth it!

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The revelation was found where I never expected it; a ruined city that logic concluded was a dead end. Even as I trotted aimlessly through the site; taking note of the well-documented murals and glyph walls and asking myself for the hundredth time what I expected to find that so many others could have missed.

Still, hunches had always served me well... I'd found enough previously undiscovered relics and trinkets to keep me fed and fund my exploration, but after three hours, the second-guessing began in earnest. Hot, tiring, and frustrated, I walked into a copse of trees and splayed out on the lush grass. 

I stared into the sky, took a deep breath, and let my eyes unfocus. For a time, I watched the clouds floating through the deep blue sky and the gentle swaying of tree branches in the breeze. And that's when I noticed... every treetop was adorned with a flourish of leafy fronds... all except one. I scrambled to my hooves and backed away to get a better view. 

Like the others it was covered from the base to fronds in a thick blanket of bushy vines, but the top was devoid of a single branch. At first, I thought it might be dead, but dead trees didn't remain standing straight and tall... though when I thought about it, healthy trees didn't stand that straight either.

I tore into the thick vines; chopping, pulling, and biting until I saw the shadowy glyphs beneath. I worked late into the day exposing the pillar that had remained hidden through the years. Only when I cleared it completely did I closely examine the find, allowing myself the luxury of believing that I had finally discovered something significant.
I could never have anticipated just how right I was.

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The Changlings were born from the Old Masters, but they were never one of them. Considered weak and inferior, the Masters used them only for hard labor or their personal amusement. They ensured compliance through cruelty and by carefully cultivated the Changeling young; seeking out and destroying any egg with the potential to birth a queen.

No pony knows if the Masters grew careless or if it was the Changelings themselves who hid an egg away, but a queen did rise... and the war began. 

Great was the power of the Masters, but greater still were the numbers and rage of the Changeling brood. With the all the restraint and care of a wildfire, Changelings hurled themselves to their deaths by the thousands so long as they took a single Master with them.

From her high place, the Queen Master watched as the horde wound their way through the city, snuffing out her cadre one by one. Closer and closer they crept until they reached the foot of the palace. Then, as one, they rose like a mighty wave of darkness; blocking the sun from the sky. 

In a panic, one of her advisors foolishly urged her to surrender only to fall, dead by her hoof, practically before the last syllable left his lips. It galled her enough to know that negotiation was the only choice left to her, but surrender was never an option.

She was still considering her words when the doors burst open behind her. "Well, well..." she said, turning confidently with an appropriate sneer. 

But before she could utter another word, the brood burst forth, leaping for her remaining advisors and attendants, cutting each down where they stood. Stunned, she was only able to kill 20 or so before they swarmed her, broke her horn, and pinned her painfully to her throne.

With a snarl, she turned to watch the usurper striding confidently toward her. 

"What is the meaning of this!?" she screamed, still sure of her position and superiority.

Silently, the Changelings made a path as their queen strode confidently over the bodies of the defeated until, once close enough, she leapt for the Queen Master.

Only as the fangs sunk deep into her throat did she finally understand. There had never been any hope of compromise or even surrender. The Changelings sought nothing less than their complete and utter extermination.

The new queen set to her dark meal, taking the lifeforce and powers of the last Master for her own. But with her last breath and the power of spite, the Queen Master cursed the Changlings to be forever unwhole and dependant on others for sustinence. Her malevolent wish guaranteed that history would see the vile creatures the same way she did: as parasites.

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The revelation was stunning. Everything we knew about Changlings, which was admittedly not much, was flipped on its head. But even more concerning was the accounting of "The Masters". Who were they? Why wasn't there more evidence of their existence? Were they really extinct and if so... who carved the glyphs into this pillar?

Suddenly, the jungle quieted.

I hesitated for just a moment and looked around nervously. Not one to ignore signs of danger, I hurriedly stuffed everything in my packs and galloped the way I'd come. I never saw anypony, but for the rest of my life, I'll never forget the sensation of hungry eyes following me as I ran.


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Giveaway Details

Last few finished pieces:

Gallery of all finished pieces : nimaru.deviantart.com/gallery/…