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The letters, when Zeylla had first received them, had been left to the side. She cared little for invites, be they those bearing a royal seal or stuffed mysteriously between the floor and hatchdoor. Royal letters were often signed promises of blood spill in the young troll's mind, and she didn't find that to be much in her favor, honestly. And strange scribbled notes most likely promised no better. So, no, she did not open them and then spend her day worrying about what she would wear or how she would act; who she would see or speak with. Instead she rested with her lusus in the deepest catacomb of her treehive and worked idly on her book.

Her lusus was the one who urged her to go. She always knew when things were up, and when Zeylla told her about the letters, they were brought to her and read. Shrehe'sem was a wise parasite, and she recommended that her charge take to Four Fronds and see the new queen. It was not because Leechmom was loyal to their queen, but because she was new and different. Leechmom was sure she could taste change lurking around the corner, and she disliked the way it tasted. It would not be a visit to support the highblood, but a mission to watch and learn.

When Zeylla raised voice about the other letter, Leechmom snapped that it was nothing, and should be tossed with the trash. It was evidently a road that tasted like death and bitter endings, but when she left the catacomb to prepare herself for the trek across the marsh and through the woods, Zeylla couldn't help but just fold the piece of tattered paper up and slip it into the inside pocket over her smock. She told herself she would get rid of it later. Just, not yet was all.

The marsh sank deep around her ankles as she traveled, and by the time the grey-blood had arrived at Four Fronds she felt as if she was much like Troll Elizabeth Bennet arriving at the Troll Bingleys all covered in mud and muck. Except she wasn't really worried at all what anyone in Four Fronds cared of her mucky boots and dirtied dress hem, as she was better than them, honestly.

The streets were crowded, and a slightly irritated twitch marked the corner of Zeylla's lips, and her eyes scanned the crowd, searching for a good place to make herself comfortable. Yet, everywhere her tired owl eyes stared was already full of squashed and unhappy or over-eager looking trolls. The little twitch turned into a minute frown as her over-this-bullshit meter moved up another tick. But there was no backing out, even though she was already aware that the noise of this crowd would be unpleasant at best. Leechmom wanted her here, and she would do it for her lusus.

Arms and horns and elbows and where did that knee come from and why was someone on her foot? It was too much, and Zeylla was still trying to find just enough room to turn and face the right way. She grit her needle-like teeth unpleasantly and continued to try and push and shove herself around in the surging wave of idiots and bumbling fools. Why, when she had thought she had squeezed a spot in finally, some purpleblood and her little redblood pet had nearly trampled her with all their stumbling and catching and fussing. Their tealblooded auspistice was a little less aggressive, arriving with more grace than the other two. Either way, they had taken her space and Zeylla moved on.

She gave a few dirty looks to some trolls who were eyeing her. They talked like they were whispering, but she was sure anyone could hear them. They mocked her grey sign, suggesting she might be some redblood coward. She managed a glimpse of ugly indigo signs on their chest, and quickly moved on. She was in no mood for any highblood violence. But the crowd seemed to refuse her access to closer areas near where the queen would actually speak, so she moved towards a monitor placed on a wall close by, and with an highly imaginary pop (because trolls do not actually pop when squeezing out of a crowd into a small open space) she found herself a nice little spot just big enough for her to have some breathing room. But the crowd that she had crawled through was now tightly squashed together again, and it would seem she was stuck in this spot for the rest of this delightful adventure.

As she stood there, she honestly began to wonder why it was there was such a nice space in such a crowded area. The curly haired troll glanced around at the trolls around her. Nothing too strange, she noted after her first glance. Just a young blueblood girl and a rather over-excited looking blueblood boy. At first, she figured they were flushed, maybe on a first date from their nervous and edgy looks. But as she stared at the girl, she decided it was definitely paler, perhaps even darker then that. She looked downright nervous next to the stiff man she was with.

Zeylla idly watched her, ignoring the other blueblood for now. His excitement did not interest her as much as the girl's terrified features did.

She would have continued to watch the girl if it were not for the crackle of the speakers and the flicker of the monitor above as an image the freshblood queen appeared. The moment Zeylla saw her face, her stomach plummeted. Not because of who the queen was, but because of the feeling that suddenly smacked her in the face as their highness appeared. Something was going to happen. Already her muscles tensed, and as the queen began to speak her stomach twisted into knots. Something was going to happen. Leechmom had promised change was coming, Zeylla felt that it might already be here.

What was it she was going to tell them? Why did she look so tired, so wary and suspicious? Zeylla glanced around, imagining the trolls packed around her hiding weapons beneath their clothing, eagerly awaiting a moment of historical up rise. She imagined them being squashed, downed by the drones all around them. She thought of the blood and swallowed around the dry lump forming in her throat.

[Zeylla stalking Sarcel and Semps!]

Pyruet was moving through the crowd in what was best described as a slowed-down charge. Leaning slightly forward, taking quick, authoritative steps without the slightest hesitation, she was plowing a straight line through the masses. Her stature, scowl, and prominent firearms were suitable motivation for any trolls who caught sight of her to clear room for her, some of them dragging a less alert friend out of the way. Those who didn't move for her were forced aside as she collided with them; she was neither slowing nor deviating from her path, not for any troll.

The choice had been incredibly obvious. Taking her life into her own hands? She'd done that sweeps ago, she didn't need any help with it, much less from some a*****e who'd seemingly deliberately scheduled it over the queen's speech. Besides, the royal letter had seemed much less like an invitation, and considerably more like a summons. She'd almost considered burning the other letter, as if to make a point to the messenger who would never witness the act, but had quickly dismissed the thought as stupid and overall pretty pointless.

Owlmom had almost seemed curious when she'd mentioned she was going to the Four Fronds again, so soon after the last visit, but she was always nosy like that, always wanting to know where Pyre was headed off to. The young troll supposed it was in case something went wrong, her lusus could recover her body, though she wasn't exactly sure why she would want to.

She'd brought her three usual revolvers, and considered bringing her older, considerably more worn duo of 5-shot handguns, and maybe her emergency backup derringer--the summons had seemed rather foreboding, and you could never be over-prepared when it came to defending yourself, or your planet for that matter. But when it came down to it, she'd decided that the smaller, weaker guns would more than likely be useless extra weight, had left the outdated revolvers in storage and the derringer in her recuperacoon, and simply brought extra ammunition.

The crowd was growing thicker as she approached the balcony the queen had given her speech at not so long ago. Trolls had less room to avoid her, and the frequency of her nearly trampling some poor unsuspecting fellow on her way to the front was increasing. The balcony had come into view, all she needed was to get to a decent viewing position, and oh look whose horns were right the hell there.

Her one-troll-stampede became even more aggressive as she blindly forced her way through the crowd. She wasn't even interested in initiating conversation with that son of a b***h, she just wanted to see if--yep, they were a duo again. Sarce's head, considerably more hidden by the crowd than Sempur's ridiculous hair and oversized horns, had come into view for a second in between the shifting trolls. She charged one final time, shoving several trolls aside for the sake of ending up right behind the blueblooded duo, and then--

uh...

She really had to start planning what to say ahead of time, this was ridiculous. The girl probably didn't even remember her and here she was stalking them through a crowd except not really. She grimaced, leaned down, let out a quick "Hello." between the two, and was immediately cut off by all of the equipment springing to life as the empress began her speech.

"We all know the care of our lusus, our guardians. I'm certain a few of you came here today accompanied by yours, and in your heart they are the most important creature in your life. It's safe to say that our entire race owes it's life to these creatures, even though the origins of our partnership is lost in the mists of sweeps past. How many of you would give your lives to protect the creatures that have done the same for you and your ancestors, countless times?"

Even as she spoke, Regina felt a small pang of envy. Of course they loved their lususes, they didn't have her. Of course the queen was thankful for the power her lusus had, it certainly made life easier. Still ... the old girl wasn't exactly what you'd call nurturing. Hell, she hadn't even acknowledged the young troll as hers until the previous queen had taken a several-sweep cruise into the farthest parts of their galactic empire, allowing Regina to jump into her empty spot. She wondered how many other trolls could guess that their own queen hadn't had the care of a lusus for most of her childhood.

"While each of you have a special bond with your own lusus, there is one that we all are connected to, and who all owe more than any other creature. I am speaking of course, of our great Mother Grub, and of every one before her. And every one after. For centuries they have spent their lives birthing out trolls, and at the end, gifting us with their own egg, their matriorb, so that we may hatch a new one and continue our species."

Taking a deep breath, the queen paused again to dart a curiously penetrating stare around at her audience. How many of them were sharp enough to guess what was coming next? With a smaller crowd she would have dropped the news off the bat, without a large rambling speech before. It was the dryest one yet, and when she had been given it she had nearly fallen asleep reading it. Still, it broke the news slowly, which was the best way.

As the queen brought her speech closer to the point, Zeylla began to feel slightly antsy. She hid it well behind her calm, hard exterior- but that did not stop the fact that every nerve in her body was buzzing with anxious energy. She was speaking of lusus, of the bond between troll and caretaker. It hit a chord instantaneously in the stonefaced troll, and her hands-usually perfectly still at her sides or behind her back- fidgeted with the hems of her sleeves, rubbing back and forth across the rough fabric. The scritch-scratch feeling of the wooly cloth vibrated through her fingers, edging her nerves so she could listen carefully to the rest of this speech.

When the speech transferred smoothly from each trolls lusus to the Mother Grub herself, Zeylla found that the once comforting feeling of her fingers on her hem was not enough. Not when it was suddenly so silent. Like a displacement of water on a smooth lake surface, breaking the calm with ripples of pure energy, the queens words dripped from her podium; out of speakers and across the crowd. Wave after wave rushing across the jittery crowd, and with it came a sudden impending silence. Where there had been the soft noise of confused patrons and public there was now dead air as shock rocked them.

But this was like the eye of some terrible storm, and she was trapped; mesmerized like some dumb creature to a bright light source. She knew she should leave, get out of the crowd before the chaos hit when the queen dropped what ever bomb it was she was carefully preparing for. Yet, she couldn't. She needed to know. Her head stayed tilted, watching the queens face as she laid out her pretty words, trying to ease her plebeians into what Zeylla could only guess was going to be a terrible mess.

She wondered momentarily if Shrehe'sem had known this was going to happen. Surely her lusus would have not sent her to this mess without knowing what was planned. It was to be a test, perhaps. So she waited with the crowd on bated breath for the queen to finish. She didn't dare to think of the worst things this could be, yet she already had a good guess of what it might be. It wasn't pretty, seriously.

Cheese stood smartly to attention the moment the Queen appeared on the balcony. She was maybe a little too focused on maintaining her strict military posture...she missed most of what the Queen had to say, and really, the drone was hardly even watching. Cheese did pick up on the apprehension that spread through the crowd as the Queen's speech continued, but...it was most likely a problem that concerned regular trolls, right? All she had to worry about was following orders and she'd be fine. But then the Queen started talking about the Mother Grub and even Cheese could not help but feel uneasy.

Ignorance is bliss. Her eyes had been fixated on the balcony; yellow orbs, both fascinated and terrified of what was to come. Thinking about it now, she realized she hadn't really seen the queen in such a mannerism. The last expedition to four fronds went by highly unpleasantly- they had missed the queens speech, then- so of course she would be nervous now that she began to dwell on it.

Her fingers twitched, a very slightly motion, but she was trying so hard not to tremble, not to fidget, not to sporadically move in such an awkward way that it would attract attention but god her legs and arms itched, and she was finding it very difficult to keep still. The cadence of her heartbeat provided a primordial metronome, a make shift tick tock of a clock to count the passing time with beats breaths. Painfully aware of the crowd around her, while she wasn't thinking so hard about the thought before, was causing her to panic.

She hated panic. The way her chest tightened up was one of the worse feelings she could imagine.

But there were so many people, and, being on the short side of things, she felt lightheaded and claustrophobic. The itch she felt previously felt like a scalding, burning sensation, awful and terrible all the same- and the way she heard the blood pulse in her ears was driving her mad. her hands had quietly found each other again, quietly picking at the fresh scabs, but she was much to distracted by the issue at the moment to care, or feel, just ignore.

Pressure raising, just like a volcano. A trigger ready to go off at the slightest change, a homeostasis in turmoil; or perfectly put, a heart attack on two legs.

"Hello."

A yelp- quickly muffled with her own hand- was the only response. Jumping, the pent up energy that was slowly building from standing there trying not to fidget finally let loose, and the startled blueblood quickly spun around to see just who would even want to say hello to her, or Sir for that matter!

But boy she sure didn't see that one coming. It was her- the greenblood!- the one that had stood up for her that last time they were here. Who would of thought they'd all cross paths again! A sparkle of childish admiration shone in her eyes, since they all were, by definition, children still... but... what did she want with her? Or did she want to start something with Sir? Gosh she hoped it wasn't the latter, she didn't know if she was up to trying to keep him docile today- not that she really could, mind you- but she knew that... well... he wasn't on very good terms with the girl who bested him in combat, and she knew he was still sore about that.

And she wanted to say something back, she really did! But when she opened her mouth to speak, all she did was stammer and make a fool of herself, not like she didn't do that enough already, but then the queen began to make her speech. She began to speak; and she froze. She did not want to look up at the queen. She did not want to look at the leader of their people, and the one person that could end a life with the flick of her wrist.

But she did. She looked almost apologetic when she finally acknowledged Pyre and looked at her, looking away back up at the balcony. And there she listened to the speech, or the beginning of it.

And she listened to her go on about the mother grub, and her attention was captured. Was there something wrong? There had to of been, for the queen to muster such a crowd!

And she was feeling nervous again, especially with the greenblood behind her. Rather then keep her eyes on the queen, they continued to dart at Sir, hoping he wouldn't do anything too rash, but then, this was sir they were talking about!

She'd rather keep focused on the matter at hand- funny, and ironic, being that she wanted to ignore the queens existence out of fear, but no use lying to yourself, huh?- but at least she took comfort in knowing Sir wouldn't dare lash out with the queen speaking.

But why was the greenblood here talking to them, anyway?

"I'm sure you all know the stories of how there are supposed to be wild mother grubs living deep within Alternia's deepest caves. As young trolls you have all heard how sometimes they will emerge to raise a troll, but dying a premature death as a result. Not many trolls however realize that they are all delicate creatures, no matter what they choose to do in life. So much that there are always jobs for trolls to act as caretaker to our current Mother, to make sure she is healthy and well."

Inching slowly towards the truth, Regina began to tap impatiently on the balcony. Catching herself quickly, it stopped almost as soon as it began, but it was a nervous tick. Really, this was so freakin' unfair. So many problems right at the start of her reign, she wondered how much censoring would have to be put into place when they wrote the history books.

"Unfortunately, it seems that her time is coming to an end. While this normally would not cause problems, it appears that the illness she has succumbed to is also damaging the matriorb inside her. This means of course, that her line is coming to an end. It also means that this is the first time that we have been without a ready replacement for our Mother Grub in all of recorded history."