The changeling was a shriveled thing, barely a shadow of the fearsome creatures Fluttershy had faced in Canterlot. It scrabbled feebly at the forest floor, but lacked even the strength to crawl. Its glossy black chitin had faded to a dull gray. A patch of green-brown moss was eating through one shoulder. Holes pierced its scrawny limbs from hoof to hip, as well as its warped horn and tattered wings. A few even ran through the thing’s torso.
Fluttershy stood frozen to the spot. She had followed the creature’s piteous cries, but hadn’t expected to find such a dangerous beast huddled amidst the undergrowth of the Everfree Forest. The changeling lifted its head. “Help me,” it wheezed, almost too soft to hear.
Compassion overwhelmed fear. Fluttershy undid the traces to her cart and knelt in the weeds beside the changeling. “What’s wrong?” she asked. “Are you hurt?”
“Hungry,” it said. “Weak. Alone. Hungry.” Its strength gave out, and its head dropped to the dirt.
“Shhh. Don’t worry. You’re going to be just fine.” Fluttershy tipped over the cart, dumping out the medicinal blossoms she had been gathering all afternoon, and hoisted the limp monster into their place. It weighed no more than a foal. “Let’s get you home.”
By the time they arrived, the sun had set and the changeling had passed out. Fluttershy washed a small garden’s worth of dirt and moss off the changeling, then laid it in her own bed and tucked it snug in the covers. That done, she curled up on the floor and slept.
When morning came, it took an effort of will to force her eyes open. When she did, Fluttershy found the changeling sitting up in bed and staring at her. That woke her up in a hurry.
“Oh! Good morning!” Fluttershy clambered to her hooves. “You look better.” The changeling’s chitin had regained some of its luster, and the holes in its torso had shrunk to pinpricks.
The changeling only nodded.
“Um,” she said. “You’re going to need to stay here until you’re feeling better, if that’s okay. There are other ponies nearby, and we can’t let them see you.”
“Why?” The changeling’s buzzing voice was flat and rasping.
“Well, you see, changelings have done a lot of things to hurt ponies. Some ponies might try to do bad things to you, if they knew you were here.”
“Not you.” The changeling titled its head curiously. “You love me. I can feel it. Why?”
“Oh. I guess I think everypony deserves to be loved.”
The changeling stared at her. She fidgeted.
“My name is Fluttershy,” she said to break the silence. “Who are you?”
The changeling’s head jerked, almost imperceptibly. “Who am I?” it said. “Who do you want me to be?”
Fluttershy blinked. “I don’t understand.”
It stared at her quietly for several seconds. Then a flash of green light enveloped its body, and a familiar pony lay in its place. “Twilight Sparkle,” said her friend’s voice. “I’m Twilight Sparkle.”
“Eep!” Fluttershy leaped away from the doppelganger and hid behind an end table.
Twilight Sparkle’s face frowned. “Oh,” her voice said. “You don’t like that.” Another flash, and the changeling took the form of Fluttershy’s father.
“No!” Fluttershy gasped. “Stop!”
“I’ll try again.” This time it was Rainbow Dash.
“ENOUGH!” Fluttershy stalked forward. “Don’t you DARE do that to the ponies I love!”
The changeling’s brow furrowed. “But then... who do you want me to be?”
Fluttershy let out a breath. “Nopony. It doesn’t matter what you look like. Just be yourself. I want to know the real you.”
The changeling blinked with Rainbow Dash’s eyes. “But what if you do not like me, once you know me?”
Fluttershy rubbed her temple. “I know I won’t like a fake of somepony else.”
Another flash, and the changeling was in Fluttershy’s bed once more, slumped like a wilted shrub. “Just don’t stop loving me,” it said. “I’m so hungry.”
Fluttershy nodded. She was all business, now that she had a way to help. “Right. What can I get you to eat?”
“Love.”
“Oh. Yes. Okay. How do I do that?”
“You already are.”
“Oh. Good.” Fluttershy faltered. “Is it… enough?”
“It is better,” the changeling said slowly. “I don’t think I’ll die. I’m still so hungry, though. I need more.”
“Okay. How does that work?”
The changeling kissed her on the mouth.
Fluttershy squeaked and staggered backwards. She lost her balance and sat heavily on her haunches, hard enough to sting.
“I hurt you,” the changeling said tonelessly.
“No. No, you just surprised me. That actually felt. Um. Nice.” Fluttershy had kissed stallions before—well, she had kissed a stallion before—but this was completely different. She had never felt as loving or as caring as when the changeling’s mouth touched hers. The tingling was only now leaving her chest. “Was that, um. How did that feel?”
“Good,” said the changeling. “Very good.”
Silence. “So, um,” Fluttershy said at last. “What’s your name? Your real name, I mean.”
“I am a drone. I have no name.”
“Oh, but then what do I call you? Can’t you pick something?”
The changeling stared at her.
“Okay, then.” Fluttershy thought for a moment. “I’ll call you Sympathy.” It seemed like the right name for a critter who depended on the feelings of others.
“Sympathy.” The changeling spoke slowly, as if tasting the word. “I am Sympathy, now.”
Fluttershy hesitated. Sympathy looked scary, true, but she could tell it was becoming friendlier. It was just so confused. Like Discord, Sympathy had never had anypony who really cared about it. She wanted to reach out and make Sympathy understand that its feelings mattered. And, she realized, there was a way to do that which the changeling would understand instinctively.
Fluttershy shuffled forward and perched on the edge of the bed. She touched her lips to Sympathy’s snout. It tilted its head upwards and pressed its mouth to hers. She felt passion flare up in the pit of her stomach. Fluttershy sheltered Sympathy in a protective embrace. She was warm and powerful.
Fluttershy found herself lowering her weight, rubbing her belly against Sympathy’s smooth chitin. Its head darted forward, nipping at her lips and cheeks and chin with tiny pinprick bites. “Oh,” she gasped, wrapping a foreleg behind its head and clasping it to her breast. “Oh.” Nothing had ever felt so good, not picnics or summer or even friendship, nothing was as good as Sympathy’s hooves touching her in places she had never been touched. She felt strangely tired, but pleasantly so, as if she were drifting off to sleep in the noonday sun.
Sympathy rolled them over so that its weight was on top of Fluttershy. Its head went lower, nipping the base of her neck, her chest, her belly. The jabbing fangs sent jolts of pleasure through her gut. Fluttershy opened her mouth in a silent scream, and everything went white.
Fluttershy awoke in fits and starts. Sleep was a warm blanket, and she was reluctant to leave its embrace. She was sprawled atop rumpled sheets that half-spilled off her bed. Sympathy was nowhere in sight. Slowly, Fluttershy crawled beneath the cozy sheets. The effort exhausted her, and she drifted off.
When the sound woke her, noontime sunlight was spilling across her face. Its warmth felt nice, but the glare made her squeeze her eyes shut.
Hooves tapped across the wooden floor. Fluttershy couldn’t muster the energy to turn her head and look.
Hot breath tickled the back of her neck. The slick, lukewarm chitin of Sympathy’s hoof stroked her withers. Fluttershy made herself lie still. If the changeling thought she was asleep, it would leave her alone. She just wanted to sleep.
There was a queer sensation where Sympathy touched her. It was not quite weakness, not quite pressure. Fluttershy felt something being drawn out of her. At the same time, she was overcome by a warm, loving mood, just like when Sympathy kissed her. It felt nice, but Fluttershy could feel her fatigue growing, as well.
Realization dawned. Sympathy was consuming her love, and she had so little left. What would happen if the changeling took it all? The sheets beneath her grew damp with sweat.
Abruptly, the hoof pulled back. Sympathy was breathing hard. “No,” Sympathy muttered. “No.” Fluttershy laid there, too weak to tremble, listening to the floorboards creak as Sympathy shifted its weight. Time stretched on.
She heard Sympathy walk away like a drunk staggering home. The hoofsteps had almost reached the door when they stopped. There was a brief silence. Sympathy gasped, a great shuddering heave, then hurried to her bedside. Fluttershy flinched imperceptibly as the hoof touched her withers again, but she didn’t feel the half-pleasant sensation of being drained. Sympathy let out a low groan, and the hoof dropped away. The changeling all but galloped out.
Fluttershy released the breath she had been holding. She was terrified, but too tired even to think. As the adrenaline faded, fatigue overtook fear, and sleep claimed her once again.
She didn’t wake again until the stars were out. Fluttershy still felt weak as a baby lamb, but she had been in bed for a whole day and her thirst was too powerful to ignore. She dragged herself down the stairs to her kitchen, and arrived breathing hard and covered in sweat. In the pale moonlight, Fluttershy sucked down several glasses of water, followed by a staggering portion of raw alfalfa. Sated, she turned back towards the bedroom and sleep. Sympathy stood at the base of the stairs, watching.
Fluttershy let out a small squeak. Starlight caught the hard angles of its chitin, which had regained its glossy sheen. The holes in its wings and torso had filled.
“You are afraid of me,” Sympathy stated.
Fluttershy could only nod.
“Maybe you should be.” Sympathy’s compound eyes bored into hers. “While you slept, I…” Its voice shrank to nothing.
“I wasn’t asleep.”
Sympathy looked down. “So you know. I hurt you. I am sorry.” It shuffled its hooves. “I do not want you to hurt.”
“You almost killed me,” she whispered.
“Yes. I should have. A drone must feed and grow strong.”
“Then why didn’t you?”
It was several seconds before Sympathy spoke. “A drone has no name. I have a name now. I am Sympathy.”
“Well, I’m very glad you didn’t eat me. It sounds like you’ve decided to become a good pony, now. Or, um, I guess maybe a good changeling.” Sympathy could have devoured her, but chose not to. No monster would have done that. She stepped cautiously forward. “I don’t think you want to hurt anypony.”
“But I must take love from ponies, or I will starve.”
“You need love, but, um, you don’t have to steal it. Ponies need love as much as changelings, in our own way, and we get it by earning it. You can find ponies who will love you willingly. That is, if you want. You just have to be yourself.”
Sympathy tapped its hoof thoughtfully. “How? I do not know who I am.”
“I can’t tell you that. Everypony has to figure it out for themselves.”
“You gave me my name. You must know what my purpose is.”
“Oh, but I don’t. You get to choose what you think is right. What do you think is important right now?”
“I hurt you,” Sympathy said. “I will help you recover.”
“That’s nice of you.” Fluttershy smiled. “Would you help me get back to bed, please? If it’s not too much trouble.”
Sympathy offered her a shoulder to lean on and helped her up the starlit stairs.
The pounding woke Fluttershy at dawn. She hoisted herself upright on shaky legs. She felt stronger than the night before, but only a little. The knock came again. Whoever was at her front door must be in an awful hurry. Fluttershy moved as quickly as she could.
Just outside her bedroom, Sympathy stood in a low crouch, fangs bared. “Is there danger?”
Sympathy looked like… well, like a monster. Fluttershy fought down the urge to flee. “It’s just a visitor,” she said. “Stay upstairs, please. I’ll go see who it is. Don’t worry.”
“I will help you,” said Sympathy.
“Oh, um, no. Thank you. It might not be safe if other ponies knew there was a changeling here.” There was another knock, louder than before. “Excuse me. I’d better go.” Sympathy didn’t follow, thankfully.
Fluttershy opened her door, squinting against the daylight. Beyond, Rarity’s hoof was raised to knock again. “Oh, there you are, darling,” she said. “I was worried when you didn’t make it to the spa yesterday, and—are you quite alright, dear? You’re awfully pale.”
“Um. I don’t think so.” Fluttershy had forgotten all about their appointment. “I was too sick to meet you yesterday.” It wasn’t technically a lie, she decided.
“How horrid! Is there anything I can do for you?”
Fluttershy couldn’t let Rarity inside, or she might find Sympathy. She plastered a smile across her face. “I think I just need to rest. But, um, thank you.”
“Well, do let me know if there’s anything at all,” said Rarity. “I came to tell you that Twilight wanted to speak to all of us about something urgent, but perhaps you had better stay home and rest.”
Fluttershy nodded. There was no way she could make it all the way to Ponyville in her condition. “I think so. I’m sorry.”
“Nonsense, darling, take all the time you need. Anyhow, I’d best be off. There’s no telling what Twilight will need this time.”
Twilight paced across the living floor of the library. “That’s too bad about Fluttershy. I hope she gets better soon.” Twilight would have liked to have the whole gang for this, but five of them should be enough to handle the problem. Maybe it was for the best; Fluttershy was much braver than before, but Twilight knew she still hated this sort of thing.
“So what’s the big mystery, already?” Rainbow Dash said from her vantage hovering above the rest of Twilight’s friends.
“A letter from Princess Celestia.” Twilight unrolled the scroll, although she had already memorized its contents. “You remember those wards my brother set up around town, after the wedding?”
“The changeling finder?” said Applejack. “Shoot, I was up half the night helping him set up them crystals. ‘Course I remember.”
“Well,” said Twilight, “it seems something set them off.”
Pinkie Pie gasped. “You mean—”
“That’s right,” said Twilight.
“This is serious!” said Pinkie Pie. “We have to get ready for the welcome right away!”
Rarity rolled her eyes. “As much as I admire your goodwill, darling, I don’t think this changeling visitor will be friendly.”
Pinkie Pie giggled. “Of course not, silly. I mean a welcome for Shining Armor, when he comes to find the changeling with that spell he used before, with all the shiny crystals. Ooh! I’ll go get the welcome hat!” Pinkie Pie stayed in place as her legs whirled in circles, building up energy in preparation for a mad sprint.
“Slow down, Pinkie.” Twilight poked a hoof into Pinkie Pie’s chest, putting a momentary stop to her antics. “Shining Armor is with Cadence on a diplomatic mission to Maceponya. Princess Celestia is calling him back, but the train won’t be here for a while. If we can, we need to get rid of the changeling before he gets here. The sooner it’s dealt with, the sooner he can be back with his wife.”
“What about your magic?” said Rainbow Dash. “You can use his spell too, right?”
Twilight shook her head. “I never had Shining Armor’s talent for wards and defensive magic.” Shining Armor never let her forget it, either. He was the best brother a pony could wish for, but he could be a real brat when he wanted. “We’ll have to do this the hard way.”
“And how do you propose we do that?” said Rarity.
“Stay watchful. Look for anypony acting different. It could mean they’re a changeling, or it could mean they’re under a changeling’s control. Don’t tell the whole town, though. We don’t want a panic.”
“How many of these varmints do we got?” said Applejack.
“Just one, Princess Celestia says.”
Rarity let out a theatrical sigh. “Well, that’s a relief.”
“Any other questions?” said Twilight. “No? Okay. You four head out and start looking. I’ll go check on Fluttershy and make sure she’s okay.”
There was a knock at the door. Fluttershy forced herself to rise from the sofa’s plush cushions, spilling her blanket to the floor. “I’ll see who it is. Head upstairs, if you don’t mind.”
“I will stay,” said Sympathy.
“Oh, no! We can’t let anypony know there’s a changeling here.”
“Then we will not.” A green flash. Sympathy wore the form of a pale pink pegasus stallion with a shaggy orange mane. Its cutie mark was a budding rose. “I will greet your guest.” Sympathy’s voice lost its buzzing quality and became deeper and more masculine, but kept its distinctive dry rasp.
“If you say so.” Fluttershy settled on the sofa once again, letting herself sink into the cushions. She wasn’t sure about this, but she couldn’t keep Sympathy isolated against its will. Sympathy spread the warm woolen blanket over Fluttershy, then went to the door and pulled it open, letting a vibrant sunbeam into the cottage.
Fluttershy heard Twilight’s voice from beyond the threshold. “Um, hello. My name is Twilight Sparkle. I’m looking for Fluttershy. Who are you?” Fluttershy breathed a sigh of relief. Twilight was a good pony. They wouldn’t have to hide Sympathy’s true nature from her. She would understand.
“I am Sympathy. Fluttershy is inside.”
Twilight bustled to Fluttershy’s side, casting an inscrutable glance at Sympathy as she went. “Rarity wasn’t kidding,” she said. “You really do look sick. Are you cold?”
“Oh. Thank you, Twilight, but I’ll be fine.”
“You look cold,” said Twilight. “Sympathy, can you grab that green quilt from Fluttershy’s bed?”
It was her favorite quilt, as Twilight knew, but Fluttershy really wasn’t cold. Sympathy was already going upstairs, however.
Once he was gone, Twilight leaned in close. “There’s actually another reason I came here. I have to warn you. Shining Armor’s wards detected a changeling somewhere in Ponyville, and I’m tracking it down.”
“Oh, my. What will you do when you find it?”
Twilight’s eyes were like chips of ice. “Whatever I have to.”
Fluttershy froze. She would have to keep Sympathy’s secret after all. As much as she wanted to tell Twilight, she clearly couldn’t be trusted to give Sympathy a chance.
“In fact,” said Twilight, “I’m wondering about this Sympathy character. I’ve never seen him before.”
“Sympathy’s fine,” Fluttershy said, too quickly. “He’s very nice.”
“I don’t doubt it,” Twilight said in that not-quite-patronizing way of hers, “but if you never saw him before he showed up here, then I’m sorry, but there’s no way to be sure.”
“Oh, but I did!” Fluttershy lied. “I’ve seen him lots of times. He’s, um, he’s my cousin.”
Twilight squinted. “Your cousin?”
“Yes! From Cloudsdale. Um, when we were foals. We used to play together all the time. He was scared of heights like me, and so we always stayed indoors in Cloudsdale when other ponies would go outside and we got to know each other very well and he’s very gentle and he still lives in Cloudsdale and he’s a painter and sometimes he comes here to visit and—”
“Okay!” Twilight raised a hoof. “Okay, I get it. And has he been acting weird lately? Is there any chance he’s really a changeling?”
“Um, no. It’s definitely him. It’s good he showed up when he did, so he can take care of me.” The lie was rancid on her tongue.
“Yes,” said Twilight thoughtfully. “Also, two of you together won’t be vulnerable if the changeling does show up. They prefer to prey on lone ponies.”
Sympathy returned, carrying the quilt in its mouth. “Oh!” said Twilight. “Thanks.” The magenta glow of her magic took the quilt and spread its stifling warmth over Fluttershy. “I was a bit short with you,” she said to Sympathy. “I’m sorry. I’m just worried about Fluttershy, is all.” It was eerie, how easily Twilight lied.
“As am I,” said Sympathy.
“I’ll be fine,” said Fluttershy. “Really.” An idea struck her. “Twilight, could you show Sympathy around Ponyville? If that’s okay, I mean. It’s only, he hasn’t been able to leave the house much.” Once Twilight got to know Sympathy for the good person he was, they’d be able to tell her the truth.
“I’d love to. How about tomorrow? I’ll see if Spike can come over to take care of you while we’re gone.”
“Excellent,” said Sympathy.
“And there's the statue fountain,” Twilight said. “It's a major landmark and a popular meeting place.” Even as she spoke, a young couple was perched on the edge of the low pool, whispering to each other and giggling beneath the statue's hooves. They couldn't have been more than a year or two past getting their cutie marks. The sun hung above them like a glossy rubber ball.
Sympathy watched. After a minute, he blinked and glanced up to the statue itself. The larger-than-life pony balanced upright, raising its granite smile high. “Who is that?”
“That's Bedrock. She lived here a long time ago.” Twilight had looked her up soon after moving to Ponyville.
“What did she do?”
“She was a bricklayer. She had two kids before her husband left, and then she adopted two more. Some of them are still in Ponyville.” Twilight walked closer to the stone pony. Bedrock grinned joyfully down at her. “I remember in Canterlot, all the statues were of famous artists and brilliant scientists. Ponyville's not like that.” They admired the statue for a minute before moving on.
“That’s Carousel Boutique.” Twilight pointed. “It belongs to my friend Rarity. She’s the best seamstress and designer this side of Canterlot.”
“Why is she the best?”
“I’m not sure. I guess because she’s so creative.” She thought for a moment. “That’s not all of it, though. There are lots of creative ponies. What sets Rarity apart is how much she cares about her customers. She’ll do anything to make them happy.”
“And she does this as a… what was it? She makes seams?”
“Seamstress,” said Twilight. “That means she makes dresses.”
Sympathy was full of questions, Twilight reflected as she walked, and remarkably insightful questions at that. His fascination was infectious, allowing Twilight to recapture the wonder she had felt during her first days in Ponyville. She hadn't met a pony with Sympathy's incisive curiosity since, well, herself. She found herself hoping his visit would be a long one.
Soon they reached Twilight’s library. “Here we are,” she said brightly. “That’s about it for the town. I had a good—I mean, I hope that was helpful for you.”
“It was,” said Sympathy. “And what is this building?” He pointed a wing at the library tree.
“Oh! This is my home. Well, sort of. It’s the town library, and I’m the resident archivist.” She paused, shuffling her hooves. “Actually, I guess the library should be on the tour too, shouldn’t it? Why don’t you step inside?” She was half relieved and half nervous at finding an excuse to prolong the tour.
Twilight led the way inside. When Sympathy didn’t follow, she turned to look. He had locked gazes with a mare Twilight didn’t know. The pony had been following them through town, she realized, at least since Rarity’s shop. Maybe earlier. The strange mare stared brazenly at Sympathy with her mouth agape. Twilight scowled. She had been stealing glances herself, but there was such a thing as tact. She cleared her throat.
Sympathy jumped. A moment later, he followed her into the living tree. Twilight shut the door firmly.
Sympathy’s head swiveled this way and that, sweeping his gaze over the brightly colored stacks built into the walls. Twilight felt the heat rise in her cheeks. She hadn’t spent this much time with a stallion since leaving Canterlot three years ago. Sympathy was… well, he was quite a pony. Handsome yet humble, intelligent yet reserved, and with the naive intensity of somepony who had never left home before. She realized she was staring.
“So!” she said. “This is where I live and work. This level here is the lending library. The reference library is upstairs.” She realized they were very, very alone. “Um.”
Sympathy moved close. “How many books are here?”
“Fourteen thousand, six hundred and two.” Twilight backed away from the pegasus. Her rump bumped against a shelf, knocking books askew. “But about six hundred of those are on loan now.”
“Have you read them all?” Sympathy took a deliberate step forward. His eyes bored into hers.
“Uh, not yet. I’ve only read, oh, maybe four hundred fifty since I came here.” She tried to edge around him, but a lectern blocked her path to the left and Sympathy was nearly on top of her. She couldn’t move without physically pushing him aside.
“Then why do you need this many books?” His voice was as calm as ever.
“I, um.” She felt the faintest caress of his breath on her face. Three years. “Sorry, what?”
“All these books.”
“Right! Yes. Books.” She cleared her throat. “Um. Those, those…”
Sympathy flinched back in surprise when her lips touched his, but only for a moment. Then he plowed forward, meeting her mouth and leaning his weight against her chest. Her horn sprang to life, snatching him in a magenta embrace, pulling him closer still, his weight pushing Twilight back against the shelves. Books tumbled and thumped to the floor. She felt binding crack under a rear hoof.
Sympathy pulled away, wings beating to overpower her magic. Twilight blinked, closed her mouth, dropped the spell.
“I am sorry.” Sympathy’s eyes were on her hooves. “I do not...” He pulled himself together and met her gaze. “I am not sure what happened. Let us begin again.” He moved forward.
“Wait,” said Twilight. “No. You’re right, this is going too fast.” She tried to catch her breath. What was she even doing? She barely knew this pony. “I need to think about this.”
He met her stare with a look of hopeless confusion. “I am sorry.” He rushed for the exit.
Fluttershy was feeling much stronger that evening. By the time Sympathy returned, she was frying dandelion cakes, filling the cottage with their comfortable smell.
“Oh!” she said. “How was the town?”
“Confusing.” Sympathy shut the door and reverted to its insectoid form. The setting sun spread a mottled orange luster across its inky shell.
“Well, um. If you have questions, I guess I can answer them.”
Sympathy shook its head. “I must ask Twilight Sparkle.”
“You’ll see her again, then? That’s good. If she likes you, then you’ll be able to tell her that you’re really a changeling.”
“Why would I do that?”
Fluttershy turned away from the stovetop to face Sympathy. “We shouldn’t have to hide who we are. If you’re really her friend, then Twilight will accept you—and if she’s really your friend, then she deserves to know the truth.”
“But I have not lied to her.”
“Maybe. But you haven’t been honest, either. Um, I don’t think.”
Sympathy nodded slowly. “I understand. I will try.”
“So, um.” Fluttershy fidgeted. “You must be hungry. I was wondering if you wanted to, um…”
Sympathy drew back. “You are still weak. I do not want to hurt you.”
“Oh, no. I’m feeling much better. And it doesn’t hurt. It’s actually sort of, um.” Her voice shrank to a squeak. “Just be careful,” she managed. Tentatively, she stepped forward.
Sympathy stood frozen, even when her lips touched its own. Soon enough, though, it was kissing back. Fluttershy felt her strength draining away, but she didn’t care, it was such a nice—
“Wait.” Sympathy pulled away a fraction of a step. Its hoof pressed gently on her chest, keeping her from pursuing. “This is dangerous. I cannot risk this. Not with you.”
“But, um. Aren’t you hungry?”
“Yes. That is why this is dangerous. If I lose control, I will not be able to stop feeding.”
Fluttershy blanched. “And that would…”
“Your food is burning.”
“Oh?” Fluttershy half-turned, noticing the acrid smoke all around her. “Oh!”
“I ain’t found nothing,” said Applejack. “I looked through every acre of the farm. If this changeling were out there, I’d’ve spotted it for sure.”
“Okay,” said Twilight. “Rainbow Dash didn’t find anything, either.” As she spoke, she levitated books from a pile on her reading desk and sorted them back onto the library shelves.
“I don’t like this one bit,” said Applejack.
“It’ll be okay. I just got a message from Princess Celestia. My brother should get here before sundown. When he does, he’ll use the tracking ward, and this whole mess will be behind us.”
“I’ll rest easier when that’s done, for sure. What should I do in the meanwhile?”
“Stay alert,” said Twilight. “Check up on our friends. We can’t let the changeling hurt anyone before Shining Armor gets here.”
“Right.” Applejack tipped her hat forward, shading her eyes against the harsh morning sun. “Let me know if you need me.”
Applejack had barely left when a knock came at the door. Twilight wondered which of her friends was stopping by. Usually Fluttershy was the only one who bothered to knock, but she was probably still sick. She swung open the door, letting in a glaring sunbeam, to find Sympathy. “Oh!” A flurry of emotions rushed through her head too fast for her to tell them apart. “Come in.”
The pegasus stepped over the threshold. “We must talk.”
“I guess so.” Twilight shuffled her hooves. “I need to apologize. I shouldn't have jerked you around like that.”
“I am confused.” Sympathy walked aimlessly, never quite facing her. “I am feeling things I have not felt before. Things I should not feel.”
Sympathy was so adorably naive. Twilight followed him into a shadowed cluster of shelves. “I don't want to sound like an expert at this,” she said, “since none of my relationships have lasted more than a couple of months yet, but everything I've read suggests that thinking about how you should feel isn't productive. Can you tell me about how you do feel?”
He swallowed. His stare was wide-eyed but unflinching. “I feel... shame. I have not told you everything. Fluttershy wanted to hide it, at first, but now—”
She heard the door burst open, the clatter of hooves, then Rarity’s shrill voice. “Twilight, darling, where are you? I need to talk about our little changeling problem.”
Twilight came out from behind the stacks, stepping into the light with Sympathy close behind. Rarity’s eyes widened. “Oh! I didn’t realize you had company. Ah, I was of course referring to our previous problem, in Canterlot. You see, there are certain unresolved issues that—”
“It’s okay,” said Twilight. “We can tell him. Rarity, this is Sympathy. He's—” She cut herself off before she could introduce him as Fluttershy's cousin. After his aborted confession, she knew better.
“Charmed,” said Rarity. “I hope you’ve found Ponyville to your liking?”
“Yes.” Sympathy’s eyes roamed up and down Rarity’s sunlit body. “Yes, very much.”
Rarity blinked at him and took a half-step away, closer to Twilight. “Well, my dear, if you trust him, then of course I do, as well. How much does he know?”
“Nothing, yet.”
Rarity nodded. “Let’s start from the beginning, then.” She turned to Sympathy. “Our wards have detected a changeling inside Ponyville.”
Sympathy jumped. Twilight didn’t blame him.
“We’ve been searching,” Rarity went on, “but there’s been no sign. Unless any of our friends have spotted something?”
“No,” said Twilight. “Not yet.”
“Pity.” Rarity tossed her mane. “In any case, I’ve talked to everypony in the marketplace, and I’m quite certain they’re all who they say they are.”
Twilight nodded. “So the changeling isn’t in the farm, the market, or the weather patrol. We’re closing in.” She shot a smile at Sympathy. “See? Everything’s under control.”
Rarity nodded at him. “Don’t look so worried, darling. We deal with this sort of thing all the time.”
“Do you?” said Sympathy. “I see.”
Rarity coughed politely. “I’d best be off. Not that this isn’t a pleasure, but I’ve delayed my work enough as it is.”
“Alright,” said Twilight. “Be careful.”
“I’ll be in the boutique if you find any sign of the creature.” Rarity waved as she walked out into the sunlight.
Twilight shut the door and turned to Sympathy, blinking against the sudden dimness. “Now,” she said. “What were you about to tell me?”
Sympathy stared at her. His mouth opened, then closed.
She couldn’t blame him for losing his nerve. A confession like that was difficult. “It’s okay. I’ve figured it out, anyway. You’re not really Fluttershy’s cousin, are you?” It all fit together.
“No.” His voice was small.
“I understand why you two didn’t want to tell me. I bet Fluttershy was worried about how I’d react. I just… we can’t keep doing this. I like you, but I can’t go behind Fluttershy’s back.”
“I do not understand.”
“Well, you two are in a relationship, yes?”
“A relationship?”
Twilight rubbed her temple. Now he was being deliberately obtuse. “I mean you’ve had sex.”
“Oh. Yes.”
“Then the two of us can’t take this any further.”
Sympathy furrowed his brow and stood silently. “But you love me,” he said at last.
Twilight wanted to deny it. How could she be in love when she’d known this pony for twenty-four hours? She couldn’t make herself say the words. “I also care about Fluttershy,” she said instead. “I’m sorry. You should leave.”
Sympathy looked at her with a queer, hungry focus. “I need this.”
Twilight took an involuntary step back. “I’m sorry,” she repeated.
“As you say.” Sympathy left.
Rarity looked up from her mannequin at the sound of her shop’s bell. “Welcome! How can I help you?”
The customer came forward slowly. She was a lanky unicorn, powder blue with a pale green mane. Her cutie mark, a curlicue heart, was the same bubblegum pink as her eyes. “You are Rarity,” she said.
“I certainly am! Have we met?”
“I have heard of you,” said the stranger. “You are a good seamstress. You always make your customers happy.”
Rarity blinked. “Well, I certainly aim to please.” Something was odd about this one. Could she be the changeling they were looking for?
“I need a pony who cares.” The stranger continued her slow advance, moving in and out of the sunbeams slanting through the windows. “I need you.”
Rarity stepped backward. She tensed, ready to spring in any direction. “Oh? And why is that?”
“I am sorry. I am so hungry.” The pony’s eyes flared with emerald light, and a sickly green nimbus sprang from her horn. “Love me.”
“Hah!” Rarity stood tall. “I knew it! I—agh!” Her head hurt. The simpering love she felt for the stranger warred with her fear and good sense. She couldn’t think straight. The love was overwhelming.
No. No, the love was fake, just a trick of changeling magic. This parasite would steal the passion she was so carefully hoarding for her future soulmate and turn it into mere food. She held onto that thought, using the rage to drown out the head-splitting dissonance. She strode forward, fighting vertigo with every step.
The changeling’s eyes narrowed. “Love me,” she repeated. “You have so much love.” A wave of tenderness and warmth spread from Rarity’s breast. It was all she could do to keep from running forward to embrace the changeling. She really was such a lovely creature, beautiful and kind and glorious, and it would be so much easier to stop fighting her own thoughts like this.
“Nnnah!” Rarity ran the last few steps forward, planted her front hooves, spun, and lashed out with all her strength. The kick struck the false pony’s face, dropping her in a boneless heap.
Beads of sweat ran down Rarity’s face. “Hah. Got you.” She advanced on trembling hooves. “Now you… you…”
The false pony lay sprawled belly-up on the ground, writhing piteously. Her left eye was already swollen shut. She let out a whimper and flinched back.
Rarity froze. Her rage drained away. The creature was so helpless. She needed love and care. A good pony would care for someone in need.
Part of her noticed the changeling’s horn was still aglow. A needle of pain jabbed through her head at the thought, and she pushed the idea away. She was a good pony.
“It’s okay.” Rarity sat beside the pony and caressed her swollen face. “It’s okay. You’re safe.”
The pony choked out a sob. Rarity gathered the pony into a loose, sheltering embrace. Rarity was warm and powerful. Her shoulders slumped with fatigue, but that wasn’t important.
The pony looked up, eyes wide, lips parted. Rarity leaned down and nuzzled her cheek. She felt the pony’s mouth on her ear, wet tongue and nipping fangs. Rarity gasped and pulled the pony closer. The two of them tumbled onto their sides in a tangle of limbs.
Twilight burst into the hospital room and skidded to a halt. “I came as soon as I heard.” She paused a moment to catch her breath. “How bad is it?”
“They say I’ll recover.” Rarity’s eyes were fixed on the plush blankets enveloping her. “Eventually. I just need rest.” Applejack stood at her bedside, looking as lost as Twilight felt.
“That’s not what I meant,” said Twilight. “How are you?”
Rarity’s cheek twitched. “I don’t know. I can’t believe I let her control me like that. I should have been stronger.”
“Don’t.” Twilight sat beside the bed and rested a hoof on Rarity’s shoulder. “This isn’t your fault.”
“Isn’t it? I stood against dozens of changelings at Canterlot. I ought to have been able to take on one.”
“About that.” Twilight chewed her lip. “Are you sure this was a changeling?”
Rarity blinked. “Well, of course. Looks like a pony. Green eyes. Sucks out love. What else could it be?”
“I don’t know. This doesn’t quite match what I’ve read about them. Scholars have documented two ways that changelings feed. Either they mimic somepony for weeks or months and spread their feeding out among everypony who loves them, or else they drain a single pony to death.”
“Mm. I do believe she tried that last one.”
“No! Changelings take everything when they do that. Why would it leave you alive? That’s never happened, not once in any of my sources.”
“Well,” said Applejack, “could be it ran when it heard me coming.”
“I don’t know,” said Rarity. “My memory is hazy at best.”
Applejack stamped a hoof. “If I’d been faster getting around to your place, this never woulda happened. Twilight’s right, Rarity. This ain’t your fault. It’s mine.”
“Or,” said Rarity, “I could’ve just held out a little bit longer.”
“Oh, stop it,” said Twilight. “There was nothing either of you could’ve done. Applejack, you didn’t know. If you did, I’m sure you would’ve acted as fast as you could, but you didn’t even have any clues. Rarity, I’ve read enough firsthoof accounts to know what happened. It used its magic, and you fell in love. Even if you knew it was uncalled for and far too fast, your emotions felt natural at the time, and, and…” Her voice shrank. “Oh, no.”
Twilight’s stomach churned. How had she been so stupid? Applejack was unaware and blameless, but Twilight herself had seen all the signs, and she’d still let this happen. No, it was worse than that. Twilight was the one who had brought the changeling into town, given it a tour, and aimed it straight at Rarity.
She had to tell them. Maybe Rarity would never forgive her, but she deserved to know. Twilight started to speak, but caught herself. Fluttershy was in danger, she realized. There was no time for a confession. She was only postponing the inevitable, but she had no choice. Besides, it would be so much easier to come clean after she stopped the monster she had unleashed.
Her friends glanced at each other. “Twilight?” said Applejack. “You alright, there?”
“I have to go.” Twilight’s voice was firm. This was the only responsible thing to do.
“Hold it.” Applejack stepped towards her. “Where? And why now?”
“I’ll explain later. Just wait here, okay?” She gathered power about her horn.
For the first time, Rarity looked up. “Twilight—”
She released her spell. There was a moment of weightlessness, then she was in Fluttershy’s cottage. Sympathy was staring at her in surprise. There was no sign of Fluttershy.
Twilight advanced on the counterfeit pegasus, horn thrumming with power. “Where is she? What did you do to her?”
Sympathy stepped back. “Fluttershy is not here.”
“You’re lying!” Twilight seized him in a telekinetic grip and jerked him off the ground. “Tell me!”
“Her friend came for her. They were talking about elements.” Sympathy’s voice was flat even as he writhed against her spell. “Look.” He twitched a wing towards the window.
Twilight backed up until she could see out the window without taking her eyes off of Sympathy. Silhouetted against the setting sun, she spotted the distant figures of Fluttershy and Rainbow Dash flying towards Ponyville.
“Put me down,” said Sympathy. “Please.”
Twilight glowered. “I know what you are. I know what happened to Rarity. Sun and Moon, how can anyone do something that horrible?”
“You, you,” said Sympathy, “you don’t understand. You don’t know what it’s like to be that hungry.”
“And that makes it okay? She almost died. Do you even realize how much she’s hurting?”
“Yes. I realize. That is not what I wanted.” There was a green flash as Sympathy dropped his illusion, revealing his changeling body. The shell was glossier than anything Twilight had seen in Canterlot, almost iridescent, and there wasn’t a single hole in his body. “I am trying to act like a good pony, but it is hard. I am not a pony.”
Twilight released her spell, dropping Sympathy to his knees. “You’re doing it to me right now, aren’t you? You’re using magic to make me love you.”
“Yes.” Sympathy regained his hooves.
“Well, stop!”
Sympathy cocked his head. “I cannot stop. No more than you can stop breathing.”
It was probably true. Unconscious magic was a well-documented phenomenon. Twilight looked away. “I don’t understand, though. I already loved you. If you were going to force someone anyway, why not me?”
“I cannot risk hurting you. Your love is different. Pure. Greater.”
“That’s because it wasn’t just lies and mind control! I cared about you. That was real.”
“I know,” said Sympathy. “I think I care about you, as well. It is new. Frightening.” He swallowed. “Feeding from you would be… would be difficult.”
Twilight gaped, too shocked to be angry. “You did that to Rarity because it was more convenient?”
“It is strange,” said Sympathy. “I feel shame. I have not felt this emotion before.”
“You have to apologize,” Twilight said quickly. “I don’t know if you can ever make this right, but if you even want to try, you have to look her in the eye and apologize.”
Sympathy’s eyes dropped to Twilight’s hooves. “You hate me.”
“I don’t know. I guess. You hurt my friend, and you did it on purpose, mostly. I also care about you, though. Maybe some of that is just mind control, but I really think that some of what we had was real. I want you to be better than this. I think you want that, too.”
“Yes.” Sympathy pawed at the ground. “Yes. But I must feed. I cannot change that.”
“Most ponies will help you if you ask. Rarity probably would’ve, but you just took from her. That’s not okay. You have to ask first.”
“I see.” Sympathy looked up. “Will you help me?”
“Um.” Twilight swallowed. She couldn’t back down after saying all that. And she had loved him, before. He was still the same person. “Alright.”
“Good.” Sympathy stepped forward and reached for her.
“Whoa!” Twilight scrambled back. “You mean now?”
“Please.” Sympathy froze with foreleg outstretched. “If we do not… if I stay hungry… I might do something bad. I don’t want that.”
Twilight nodded. She could do this for him. She wrapped a tentative foreleg around his withers.
The chitin was slick and chill, like marble. Why had this seemed like a good idea?
Her doubts exploded as his horn touched her cheek with a blissful jolt, shaking her from teeth to tail. She was all over him, touching him with her hooves and her chest and her face just to feel him moving against her. They were on the ground, now. The wooden floorboards were hard against her flank.
“Wait,” she said. “Wait, no.” Sympathy pulled away and peered at her. She fought the urge to pull him back to her.
Something was wrong. She was supposed to be mad at Sympathy for some reason. She knew that, but she didn’t feel it. Strange. She was so tired. Trying to think was like wading through mud.
“Do you want this?” said Sympathy.
“I don’t know if…” Twilight trailed off. What was she doing? She loved Sympathy, and this felt good, and she was happy. “Yes. Of course. Yes!”
Fluttershy landed in a rush, barely touching the ground before she darted inside. There was no time to lose. The others were all in a tizzy. Twilight was missing and Rarity was… she didn’t want to think about that. Fluttershy had seen Shining Armor stepping out of the train, and the look on his face was enough to make her run away. She had hurried back here as fast as she dared and now she was soaked in sweat and her wings were trembling, but Fluttershy didn’t care. It was already dusk. The others would be here soon, looking for Sympathy and for Twilight. Fluttershy blew dust off the front door’s bolt and slid it shut.
“Sympathy?” she called. “Sympathy, did Twilight come here?”
Sympathy came forward, wearing its changeling form in the dying sunlight. Its front hooves shook. “I did something bad.”
“Yes, I heard about Rarity. We’ll talk, but we have to hurry, now. The others don’t know where Twilight ran off to, but they’ll find her eventually. Was she here? Did she figure out who you are?”
Sympathy opened its mouth, but nothing came out. It stepped aside.
Further in, Fluttershy saw the violet lump on the floor. A strangled squeal escaped her throat. She found herself at Twilight’s side with no memory of getting there. The body was lukewarm to the touch.
This couldn’t be. Twilight was such a strong pony. She would be fine. Somehow she would be fine.
“This wasn’t supposed to happen,” Sympathy said from behind her. “Her love was too strong. I should have stopped. I wanted to stop. But, but it was too good.”
Fluttershy nuzzled Twilight’s side. The body shifted beneath her touch like a rag doll. She jerked back.
“I don’t know what to do.” Sympathy’s words washed across the surface of her mind, but did not penetrate. “I don’t know what to feel. I cared about her. I cared about her a lot.”
They both jumped as someone pounded on the front door. “Fluttershy!” called Shining Armor’s voice. “Fluttershy, let me in, quickly! There’s a changeling in there with you!”
Sympathy’s eyes fixed on the door as he backed away. “The ponies will not forgive this. I must leave.” Sympathy hurried to a window at the back of the house and threw open the shutters. “Come with me.”
Fluttershy looked up and opened her mouth, but no words came out.
“You must come.” It pointed at Twilight. “What will they think when they find her?”
Something heavy thudded against the door. “I’m coming in!” yelled Shining Armor. “Don’t worry!” Another thump.
Sympathy started through the gaping window. It looked back over its shoulder. “Please come, Fluttershy. I love you.”
She sank to the ground, resting her head on Twilight’s cooling shoulder.
Sympathy turned aside and spread its translucent wings. The changeling buzzed away, staying low to the ground, keeping the cottage between itself and Shining Armor. It disappeared into the forest as the last rays of sunlight faded to nothing.
She lay there, clutching her friend, until the door gave way.
