_Polistae gazed at the weapon she had stumbled upon while going through one of the older storerooms of her hive. She had almost forgotten its existence; it had been more than a few centuries since she had last seen it. It was an artifact ancient even in comparison to the Royal Sisters themselves, its blade forged from the carapace of one of the long since extinct Changeling Behemoths, enchanted with long lost magics enabling it to cut through even the strongest defensive spells like a hot knife through butter. This was Behemoth’s Regret, a weapon passed down by the queens of Polistae’s hive for generations. Her face flickered through a number of emotions as memories came unbidden to her of the last, and thankfully only, time that she had been forced to wield it. Over a thousand years ago, in a time when ponies were much less numerous and most of the land of Equestria lay untamed, changelings were able to move about much more easily, even in large numbers, and rarely, to war against other hives. She had hoped to never need to wield the weapon her mother had left to her, but fate rarely accedes to ones wishes. She wondered if the armor she wore was also stored in this same room. It was a brilliant suit, as much a work of art as a means of protection, and had saved her life more than once during that battle. if only more of her drones had such protection, they may have not lost so many… _

She shook her head as her eyes began tearing up, doing her best to dissuade her thoughts from traveling back any further to such dark times. She couldn’t remember what it was she had come here looking for, but she decided that whatever it was it would be best to leave this room undisturbed. She gingerly placed the axe back where she had found it, committing to memory where it was and hoping to never have to see it again.