Five Changelings In Equestria: The Sixth Path

by Bucking Nonsense

Rating: everyone
Tags: Comedy, Romance, Adventure, Crystal Ponies, Changelings, Original Character, Trixie, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 11558

A changeling, raised from birth to be a living weapon, arrives in the Crystal Empire.

Leiurus Quinquestriatus, the Deathstalker, a changeling raised to be a living weapon, is left without direction after the Canterlot invasion. Found by The Great And Powerful Trixie, she is taken to the Crystal Empire, in the hopes that somepony will take her in. However, Leiurus was given very specific orders regarding the Crystal Empire...

Orders regarding its destruction...

Part of the rebooted Cricket-Verse, aka The Nonsense-Verse.

Published 2014-02-11 16:20:04 UTC
Last updated 2014-12-03 05:00:01 UTC

Great And Powerful

"Awaiting further instructions."

Leiurus Quinquestriatus, the Deathstalker, child prodigy magic user of the changeling hive, and designated living weapon of the swarm, repeated the phrase that, by this point, had become a mantra for her. Her last orders, prior to her sudden ejection from Canterlot, were to "await further instructions". And she had. For three weeks now, she had awaited further instructions, still sitting in the mud puddle she had originally landed in. She had repeated her mantra, once every five minutes, hoping somebuggy would hear her and tell her what she needed to do next. Over the last three weeks, she had repeated those three words a total of six thousand, one hundred twenty-six times. If she had been allowed to hate, she would say that she hated those words with all her heart and soul by this point.

She was not allowed to sleep without orders to do so. She was not allowed to feed without orders. As a living weapon, she was not allowed any free will of her own. The consequences for acting without orders were... dire. She could not even do anything about the timberwolves chewing upon her. Since their teeth were far too weak to pierce her chitin, they could not actually harm her, which would allow her orders about self preservation to come into effect. Instead, they served only as a distraction as they worked their teeth on her the way that a small dog might chew on a bone that is simply too big and tough to chew.

Leiurus heard a sound approaching. It sounded suspiciously like a cart. Sitting in her mud puddle on the side of the road, she watched as a cart came by, pulled by a blue unicorn mare with white mane and tail. When the mare came close enough to see the changeling with her three timberwolves, gnawing upon their favorite chew toy, she stopped and stared, her jaw practically on the ground. After a minute or so, she used a spell to pull out a pan and a ladle from the cart, and started banging them together. The timberwolves abruptly stopped their chewing, started yelping in pain, and ran for it.

Once the creatures were out of sight, the unicorn stared at the changeling with a look of confusion. The changeling simply stared ahead, her expression dull. After a few seconds, the changeling repeated mantra, "Awaiting further instructions."

The unicorn raised an eyebrow, and asked, "Instructions? From who?"

Leiurus raised her head, looked the unicorn in the eye, and thought for a moment. She'd never been given specific orders regarding whose orders she was supposed to follow...

To her shame, she allowed a trace of desperation to color her tone as she said, "Anyone..."

The unicorn said, her expression neutral, "Then do as you please."

The changeling nodded, then said, "Affirmative." She promptly passed out with a splash into her mud puddle. Twenty one days without any real sleep will do that to you...

The Great And Powerful Trixie... no, not anymore, she really needed to stop thinking of herself that way. After the whole incident in Ponyville involving the Alicorn Amulet, she was determined to become at least a little more humble when off the stage. Of course, on the stage, she'd resume her more confident "persona", but that was different: that was show business.

Anyways, Trixie gazed down at the undisguised changeling slumbering in the mud puddle, wondering what she should do. After the Canterlot invasion, she'd not heard anything about the changelings. There'd been a mustering of troops, she'd heard, along the border of the badlands, just in case there was another invasion, and security checks to make certain there were no more infiltrators in Equestria. That was hardly Trixie's business, but now she was faced with a small filly (she was only five years old, from the look of her, for Celestia's sake!) that was obviously in no shape to look after itself.

The small creature was caked with mud and grime, and had apparently been so lost and unsure of what to do that she had sat here waiting for someone, ANYONE, to tell her what she should do. Someone, perhaps somepony, should at least keep an eye on the poor thing, until better arrangements regarding her care could be made.

The changeling in question seemed... different from what she'd heard of them. Oh, nearly all the features were there: the black shell, blue compound eyes, the wings, everything was in place... but the horn seemed a bit longer and pointier than she'd seen in photographs, and the changeling had a tangled mess of black hair atop her head. The only changeling with hair that she'd heard of was the queen, and the changeling she was looking down upon was hardly regal.

What to do, what to do...

Well, Trixie thought to herself, I've resolved to start trying to be a little nicer. May as well start now...

Leiurus woke up, uncertain of where she was. She appeared to be inside some sort of conveyance, given that she felt that she was in motion. However, it was... odd. There was a blanket, somewhat old and threadbare, placed atop her, and a second blanket beneath, as a cushion. There was a bed in one corner, with a much nicer blanket, and a pillow, but whoever had given her the blankets she now slept on must have decided that they weren't going to use the good blankets until the changeling had a chance to clean herself off.

She was still incredibly tired, and barely felt strong enough to raise her head. Since her orders were currently "Do As You Please" the Deathstalker decided that it would please her to sleep some more, and promptly did so.

When she woke up again, it seemed to be later in the day, and the pony she had seen earlier was standing over her. "Good evening, sleepyhead. It's good to see you're awake. I've stopped for the evening, so we can have a little talk." She sniffed, then wrinkled her nose, and said, "But not before you've had a bath. There's a stream here that we can use. Come along, and we'll get you washed up."

Feeling a little stronger, Leiurus stood up, then nodded. "Affirmative."

The mare had parked the cart a short walk from the stream she had mentioned, and instructed the changeling to go in up to the base of her neck. While cold, the water was bearable. Once done, the mare began scrubbing at the changeling's shell, seeking to remove three weeks of dirt, mud, and grime. Once she had finished off all the parts that could be removed with just water and a brush, she began working with soap to get the more stubborn places. Then came the shampoo, and a severe brushing and combing to get the knots and tangles out. All in all, it took the better part of half an hour. Once fully washed off and rinsed, the mare stood up and walked out of the stream... then turned in surprise to see the changeling was still standing up to her neck in water.

The mare, confusion clear upon her face, asked, "What are you waiting for?"

"Orders," the changeling said, her teeth chattering a little.

The mare rolled her eyes, then said, "Get out of the stream, and follow me so that I can dry you off."

"Affirmative," the changeling said, then promptly marched after the mare.

A quick toweling off later, the mare tsk'ed at something. "What in the world were you thinking, letting those timberwolves chew on you like that? You've got scratches all over your shell..."

Leiurus shrugged, then her horn flared briefly with light. Her shell suddenly turned pure white, then fell off... revealing a perfectly whole shell, unscratched and untarnished, that was just underneath. Her hair remained unchanged: that never came off, as far as she knew. She'd been due for a moult for several days, but had suspended it, due to the timberwolves: her undershell would have been far too soft to withstand the gnawing of the vicious creatures.

The mare's jaw, having dropped upon the sudden demonstration, snapped shut with a click, and she said, "I wish you'd said something before that bath: I could have saved that soap for later."

Leiurus looked at the mare, and recited, from memory, "Regulation 17c: Do not shed your outer shell before cleaning yourself thoroughly: dirt, grime, and mud can easily get into the seams of your carapace, causing severe irritation, and potentially severe damage before your carapace can sufficiently harden." Even a hatchling was supposed to know that...

The mare cocked her head to one side, then said, "Fair enough." Looking over at her cart, she said, "Wait here a moment." She walked into her cart, and, after a few moments, returned levitating a cauldron. She put it down in front of her, then started levitating sticks and stones, and gathering them in front of her. Once a ring of rocks and a pile of kindling and tinder were in gathered, another spell ignited the campfire. "Now, I don't know anything about what changelings eat, so I'm afraid that if you can't eat vegetable soup, you'll have to figure something out on your own."

Leiurus did a brief self-assessment, then stated, "Current love levels are within acceptable ranges. My current supply can sustain for 87 days, provided no spells are cast during that time period, and physical activity remains nominal."

"I... see," the mare said, seeming a little confused by the statement.

Leiurus cleared her throat, then said, in a less formal voice, "In laybug's terms, if I don't do any heavy lifting, I will be 'fine'. I am not 'hungry'."

"Riiiiiiiiight," the mare said. She then lifted the cauldron and placed it upon the fire. Her horn flaring, a mass of water was then pulled from the stream, then poured into the pot. "Well, while I wait for the water to boil, we'll have that little talk I was mentioned. Let's start with introductions. I am..." The mare stopped herself suddenly: she had seemed, for a moment, on the verge of making a grand announcement, then stopped, and said, "My name is Trixie Lulamoon. I am a stage magician. What is your name?"

"Leiurus Quinquestriatus, Codename: Deathstalker. Designation: Weapon, Level One, Prototype," the changeling said, her expression completely serious.

Trixie appeared to be shocked by this pronouncement. "What do you mean, Weapon?"

Leiurus, expression still neutral, stated, "Any and all offspring of an aristocrat and a commoner are to be deemed completely without value. Even a rock has some sort of value. Therefore, a hybrid is of equal or lesser value in comparison to a rock." The changeling closed her eyes, then continued, having a little difficulty in remembering the next part perfectly, since it had been said so long ago. "As such, a hybrid can be equated to a cannonball: an object to be launched at the enemy with the intention of destroying a target."

Trixie's mouth gaped open, seeming to be horrified by what she was hearing. After a moment, her mouth closed with a click, and she asked, "Who... in their right mind... would ever say that?"

"Lord Braconidae, aristocrat, leader of the infiltration unit of the swarm, and project Deathstalker director," the changeling said. "He may possibly be my father as well, although that is only supposition based on circumstantial evidence."

Trixie placed a hoof against her face, closed her eyes, and thought for a moment. She'd heard of some terrible things in her life, but that... that beat everything she could currently think of. Seriously? Raising a child to be a weapon? Especially your own offspring? That... that may very well surpass Sombra levels of villainy.

This was well beyond anything that she was equipped to deal with. This kid needed help. Professional help. She'd been headed for the Crystal Empire to try and outrun the "laughingstock" reputation she had earned after Twilight Sparkle had outdone her on her first trip to Ponyville, and the "supervillainess" reputation she was bound to earn after her terrible actions during the second visit became common knowledge. She'd need money to see her through the winter, and the rock-farming season was already over. Worse, she'd wasted all of her money on that stupid amulet, and a refund was out of the question. She'd hoped that by entertaining Crystal Ponies during the big festival they held before Winter Startup, she'd earn enough money to keep her until Winter Wrapup, maybe longer. She had too much on her plate as it was. She couldn't handle this as well.

Well, there was a princess in the Crystal Empire, maybe she'd have some idea of what to do. In the meantime...

Trixie cleared her throat, then asked, "Young lady, will you follow any orders that you are given?" The changeling nodded. "Even from me?" The changeling nodded her head again, this time seeming a little more enthusiastic about it. "Alright. Listen very carefully: I want you to forget any order that this... Braconidae gave you. From now on, you listen to what I tell you, and only what I tell you, until I say otherwise. Understand?" The changeling nodded again.

Trixie, after a moment, continued, "Now, I'm heading north, to the Crystal Empire. I'm planning on putting on a performance there, and will, if all goes well, be spending the winter there. While I'm there, I'll see if I can find somepony better able to look after you. In the meantime, I'll try to teach you everything that you need to know so you can make your way in the world... and see if we can clear out all of that garbage your so-called father crammed into you head. Alright?"

Again, the changeling nodded, a little subdued.

"Good," Trixie said, smiling, "Now that we have that out of the way, I'll teach you something useful: how to cook vegetable soup..."

After she helped Miss Trixie cook her supper, and got everything ready for bed, Leiurus lay upon Trixie's bed and stared up at the ceiling. The mare had, after a little thought, decided to let the changeling share the bed with her, since she was small enough that she didn't take up much space... after making certain the changeling understood that love draining was definitely not allowed.

The Deathstalker was having to re-evaluate her worldview in the light of what had happened today. The changeling understood, in a vague way (she was only five years old, after all), the concept of a hierarchy. And that concept was very, very important right now.

Braconidae had given Leiurus a very simple order if she ever heard of the Crystal Empire returning: Go immediately to the city, and wipe it off the map. Reduce it to gravel, then reduce the gravel to a fine dust, and scatter that dust to the wind. Why, she didn't know, and wasn't supposed to care, but that order had been given to her... and she'd just been told to disregard it by somepony without a clear position in the hierarchy.

But was that an order that she was required to follow?

Now, she did understand that an order from a superior officer can be overridden by a higher ranking superior officer, which, in the hive, meant the queen could override an aristocrat. However, Trixie Lulamoon was not the queen... but she was not, in any way, part of the hierarchy of the hive, either. So now, the five year old had to decide whether that meant she went someplace beneath a hybrid on the map of the hierarchy of the world... or somewhere above the queen, or at least an aristocrat.

Well, she thought to herself, let's be logical: On the one hoof you have the bug who may or may not be your father, and has spent your entire life telling you that you are worth less than nothing, and that her only purpose was as a tool of destruction. On the other hoof, you have the mare who picked you up off the side of the road in your time of need, gave you a bath, has promised to look after you until she can find you a better place to stay, AND has promised to teach you what she can so you can look after yourself...

Which one do you really want to take orders from?

After a few minutes thought, Leiurus placed Trixie a few steps above the queen as the mare's tentative ranking. She could always change that ranking later, and if it turned out that the mare was, in fact, below Braconidae in the grand scheme of things, she could always annihilate the Crystal Empire then...

Biscuits And Gravy

"You simply cannot trust wheels..."

Leiurus, disguised as a filly with a white coat and a short, straight black mane and tail, stood beside Trixie, and stared at the broken wheel on Trixie's cart. The wheel had broken apart. For Trixie's cart, this was a common occurrence. It happened once a trip, so she always kept a spare wheel, just in case. Sadly, she had left Ponyville in such a hurry that she had forgotten to pick up a new spare. Thankfully, the break wasn't too terrible, and could be repaired, once the wheel was removed. However, to add insult to injury, the wheel had broken on a muddy patch of road, where it would be practically impossible for Trixie's jack to be expected to safely hold up the cart.

Looking at the changeling, Trixie asked, "I don't suppose you know any spells that might help?"

Leiurus considered the issue briefly. "Three possible options. Option One, I use magic to hold up the cart while you work. Not a valid option: insufficient love reserves to maintain the elevation of the cart for the time period necessary. Option Two, use a spell to dry the mud sufficiently that the jack might safely be used. Not a valid option: the only spells I currently know would ignite the cart in the process of drying the mud. Option Three, a distress flare spell. Valid. While this road is not heavily traveled, there are population centers within visual range, but the probability of the flare being seen will be low until evening."

Trixie considered that: admittedly, that would leave them stranded here temporarily, but Trixie had three full canteens of water, as well as a sizable stock of food, so there was no problem regarding supplies. Since she was not on any sort of time-table, the delay would not cause her any real problems. In the meantime, she supposed she could get to know her little passenger better...

"Alright," Trixie said, nodding, "We'll wait until sunset, and then we'll see if we can get some help. In the meantime, make yourself comfortable, and we'll chat. Who knows, maybe we'll get lucky, and somepony will come by and give us a hoof."

"Affirmative," the disguised changeling said, then turned so that she could watch the road, and promptly sat down.

Leiurus was incredibly strange, Trixie reflected silently. She never complained, never complimented, never commented, and in fact, she never spoke unless spoken to first. The mare was uncertain if that was a result of her upbringing, or lack thereof, or simply because she was quiet by nature. The fact that Trixie had told the changeling that she could speak whenever she felt like it strongly implied the latter...

Trixie decided that the best question to ask was the one that had haunted her last night. "Leiurus, would you mind telling me why your father thought that the changelings needed some sort of living weapon?"

The changeling was silent for a few seconds, and when Trixie looked at the little filly, she saw that Leiurus had her face scrunched up, as if in ferocious concentration. After a moment, she said, "I do not mind. The information I have is limited: I was never directly informed of the reasoning behind the decision. Will that still be sufficient?"

"That's fine," Trixie said, with a nod.

The changeling nodded, then said, "The changelings have spent several centuries in the kingdoms across the great southern desert. The kingdoms there are sparse, and were constantly at odds, so they were not prone to uniting against a common threat. There was a great deal of wilderness there: plenty of room to hide even a large hive of changelings. However, as time passed, each kingdom began to improve their security, first on a purely physical level, then in terms of their infrastructure. This was not viewed as a major problem at first, but over time, we began having to expend greater amounts of love to take one of the kingdoms, yet the returns were, in a way, getting smaller: not in terms of volume, but in terms of the shares available for each changeling afterwards. Our numbers were growing, but the amount of love we were getting was not. Worse, our predations caused the various kingdoms to unite, and their hunger for new territory quickly reduced the amount of unexplored wilderness we could use as a refuge."

Trixie nodded, able to follow that much, at least. The main reason why the changelings had nearly taken Canterlot was due to the fact that nopony had heard anything of them before. Now that their existence was common knowledge, they'd have a much harder time pulling something like that again...

"There were two possible solutions to the problem: the first, and most popular, was to simply migrate to a location that lacked knowledge of our existence, and whose defenses were less substantial. The second, and held to only by a very small cabal of powerful figures within the aristocracy, was that a new weapon was needed, one that could devastate an entire city in a very short amount of time, exercising a very small amount of love energy. As I possessed an abnormally high innate magical potential, I was selected at birth to be the prototype for the project. The queen, however, felt the entire idea was disgusting, and overrode the cabal, instead demanding that we immediately migrate to this region. Braconidae was determined, however, and maintained the project in secret."

"And how," Trixie asked, a smile on her face at the absurdity of it, "Could you devastate a city? All on your own, I mean?"

Leiurus said, in the same flat monotone she always used, "All fortifications and structures have a weakness. Bricks and cement, wood and nails, even the buildings in the Crystal Empire are not immune to this: a properly tuned high frequency vibration spell would cause every building in the city to shatter. Iron rusts away in seconds under the Oxidation spell, and cement crumbles under the Enhanced Erosion spell. If the city must remain intact, but the populace neutralized, the Aggravating Itch spell, sufficiently enhanced, will force all armored defenders to shed their protection in an attempt to find relief, and the civilians can be effectively neutralized by a sufficiently enhanced Relentless Tickling spell afterwards. Anything that proves to be resistant to either, or both at once, can simply be blasted into submission. From there, the city is yours to do with as you wish."

Trixie's eyes widened in shock. The changeling made it sound almost nightmarishly simple. After a moment, she said, "Leiurus, I want you to listen very carefully to me. Could you do that for me, please?"

The changeling turned her head towards Trixie and said, "Affirmative."

Trixie cleared her throat, and said, "Unless I tell you otherwise, you are not to tell anypony, or any creature in the entire world, that you know how to do that. Do you understand me?" If it ever got out that it was that simple for a magic user to devastate a city, Trixie shuddered to think of the panic that would ensue. Not even Sombra had exercised that kind of ruthless practicality...

The changeling nodded, and said, "Affirmative." After a moment, the changeling tilted her head to one side, and said, "Something is approaching. I hear... singing..."

Trixie's ears perked up, and she listened carefully. She could hear it as well...

"Sumer is icumen in, lhude sing, cuccu; Groweth sed and bloweth med, and springth the wode nu; Sing, cuccu!"

The Cuccou song? Odd. Sumer Is Icumen In, or Summer Has Arrived, was a very old song. Trixie hadn't heard it in ages: her grandmother used to sing it. It was one of the oldest songs in Equestria, dating back to even before the founding of the country. It even predated Modern Equestrian, dating back to before ponykind had agreed on a single language. It could easily be one of the oldest songs in the world.

A moment later, the singer came into view... and what a sight he was. Dressed hoof to head in red and black jester's motley, complete with a cap with little bells that jingled merrily as he walked, it was clear that, like Trixie, whoever he was, he was some sort of a performer. However, the mask he wore, a gleaming white piece of metal worked into a unicorn's cheerful smile, covered his face completely, and made it impossible to tell anything other than that about him... save for the fact that he liked to sing, apparently.

"Awe bleteth after lomb, lhouth after calue cu; Bulluc sterteth, Bucke uerteth..."

Behind him he pulled a sled, covered with stacks of luggage. Trixie would have wagered that the weight of the load would have made it impossible to pull, save that the sled in question hovered at least three hooves off the ground. It would be nice to have a setup like that: no more having to deal with wheels that would always break at the worst possible moment...

"Murie sing, cuccu! Cuccu, cuccu, wel singes thu, cuccu; Ne swic thu naver nu."

Perched atop the massive pile was a small monkey of some sort. Upon spying the pair, it began to dance wildly, while hooting excitedly. The monkey, as would be expected, wore a little jester's cap himself. The pony jester seemed to notice the pair, and their damaged cart, and began to slow as he approached.

"Sing, cuccu, nu; sing, cuccu; Sing, cuccu; sing, cuccu, nu!"

Reaching the end of his song, the unicorn's horn flashed, and the sled gently lowered to the ground with a thud. The monkey leapt off of the piled luggage, and landed nimbly upon the stallion's back. The jester's voice, a strong bass-baritone, came from the mask, asking, "Need some help, ladies?"

Trixie bit back any sort of sarcastic response. First off, she was trying to be nicer, and it wouldn't do to snark at a good samaritan. Second, and perhaps more importantly, she was going to need to start being a good example to Leiurus, so she may as well start now. "We certainly could use some help. I'm afraid a wheel on my cart broke, and while I think I could fix it, my jack won't work on this muddy road." Noting the unicorn's sled with a raised eyebrow, she noted, "I doubt you have that kind of trouble very often."

A pleasant chuckle emerged from the mask, and the jester said, "Not often, no. Well, I can certainly help the two of you out." The unicorn's horn flashed briefly, then with one hoof, he raised the cart up to where the wheel could easily be removed and replaced... then promptly let it go...

Trixie had expected the cart to fall back down with a crash, but instead, it simply hung there, as though weightless. While Trixie wasn't a very strong spell caster, she had a pretty good knowledge of spells in general, and she could recognize a gravity-manipulation spell when she saw one. Impressive.

Smiling in gratitude, Trixie said, "Thank you. I'll need just a few minutes." She promptly went to work, removing the wheel so that it could be fixed.

Leiurus studied the newcomer intently. This... individual was strangely garbed, and while he certainly seemed friendly enough, she had no idea how to classify him. He was a couple of inches taller than Trixie, maybe a bit heavier, but asides from that, she had nothing she could use to help place him in the hierarchy of the world.

And the fact that there was a monkey dancing atop his head was distracting...

After a moment, the changeling asked, "Why is there a monkey atop your head?"

The newcomer asked, "What monkey?"

Leiurus, her expression neutral, said, "The one atop your head."

The stallion promptly looked up, but not before the monkey had already leapt off of the pony's head and onto his back. "Huh," he said, "Nothing there. Strange."

"It is on your back now," the changeling said, as Trixie, still working on the wheel, laughed to herself, just loud enough to be heard.

The stallion turned to look behind him, but the monkey had slipped around, and now clung to the pony's belly. "Still nothing," the newcomer said, "Weird. I could almost swear I felt something there a moment ago."

Trixie giggled a bit more loudly than before.

"It is now clinging to your stomach," Leiurus said, now getting a little bit confused. What in the world was going on here? Couldn't he feel it moving about?

The stallion looked down towards his belly, but the monkey was now climbing up the stallion's tail. "Huh," the stallion said, "I don't see it." The stallion turned back towards Leiurus just in time for the monkey to climb back atop the stallion's head. "Are you sure," the stallion asked, genuine concern in his voice, "That you're not seeing things?"

Leiurus was about to say something, but just then, Trixie burst out laughing. Clapping her hooves together, the mare said, "Very well done. I've seen that routine before, but it's always fun to see. Tell me, how long did it take to train your monkey to do all of that?"

A routine? That was a performance? And he had intentionally trained his monkey to do that? How curious...

Chuckling, the stallion reached atop his head, and pulled off the monkey, holding the creature in his hooves and setting it on the ground. "Training him to do it was the easy part. Training him to do it quietly was a bit tricky. Biscuits here is a bit of a chatterbox."

The monkey started dancing about excitedly, clapping it's hands together.

Looking down at the miniscule primate, the stallion laughed, and said, "I haven't forgotten, Biscuits." The stallion's horn flashed, and a banana emerged from a bag in the pile, and sailed over to the monkey. The creature immediately set to eating it enthusiastically.

Trixie put the repaired wheel back in place, then set the cart back down into it's proper place, then turned, an eyebrow raised, and asked, "Why in the wide, weird world of Equestria would you name a monkey Biscuits?"

The stallion seemed confused for a moment, then abruptly thumped himself on the forehead. He asked, theatrically, "Where are my manners? I forgot to introduce myself. You can call me Gravy." The stallion extended a hoof. "I hope you get the joke."

Trixie took it and shook it, laughing. "Trixie Lulamoon. And this," she paused briefly and gestured to Leiurus, remembered just in time the assumed name they'd agreed on, and continued, "Is Elle. Pleased to make your acquaintance."

Gravy gave an extravagant bow, and said, "Think nothing of it. I am always happy to help a pony in need. Tell me, though, what brings the two of you out here?"

As the stallion removed the gravity spell on the cart, Trixie explained, "We were heading north, towards the Crystal Empire. I was hoping to put on a few performances there, and earn enough bits to see me through the winter."

The stallion tsk-tsked, and asked, "Then I guess you haven't heard?"

"Heard what?" the mare asked, an eyebrow raising. "Is there a problem?"

Gravy sighed theatrically, and said, "The Crystal Empire is currently closed to all comers, save for those with a royal permit to travel there. It seems that just after the city's return, two con-artists, Flim and Flam, sneaked in, and tried to scam the residents out of their hard-earned bits, selling items that were not available a thousand years ago... at absurdly inflated prices. After they were caught, and required to return the lion's share of their profits, the princesses decided to restrict travel to the city until such time as the populace could be a little better educated in the ways of the modern world."

Trixie sighed sadly. She should have known something like this would happen. It was just her luck...

"However!" Gravy's sudden exclamation caught Trixie's attention. "I have a permit to enter the city, and happen to be on my way over there now." The stallion pulled out a scroll from one of his bags. He unfurled it, and let Trixie have a look. It definitely appeared to be the genuine article: it had the royal seal upon it, and it had the easily recognizable signature of Princess Celestia as well. "The permit doesn't restrict how many ponies may come in with me, so I think I could sweet talk the guards into letting you enter as well."

Trixie smiled in gratitude, but then reality came crashing in. Nothing in life is ever this easy. "Not to sound rude," she began, not wanting to scare this good fortune away if it really was what it seemed, "But what's in it for you?"

"Ah, an excellent question," Gravy said, his voice merry. "Asides from the joy of being escorted by two delightful ladies such as yourselves, I do confess to having an ulterior motive. You see, I've been invited over for a long term engagement at the Crystal Empire, one that will keep me there over the winter, possibly longer. I can explain the details more fully once we reach our destination, but I could use an assistant or two: the entire affair is a bit complex, and many hooves would help make the work lighter. I will be happy to pay for your assistance, naturally. Say, a fifty-fifty cut?"

Blushing slightly from the compliment, Trixie raised an eyebrow at the offer: a fifty-fifty cut would be nothing to sneeze at, especially for a long term contract. While she expected that there was a lot that Gravy wasn't saying, it didn't seem like he was being intentionally deceitful. She could certainly use the money...

"Tell you what," Trixie said, nodding, "I can't make a promise until I hear all the details, but if, after you've gotten us into the city, and you've told me everything, I decide that I don't want to be a part of it, will I be free to say no?"

With a cheerful gesture, Gravy said, "Of course! I wouldn't think of forcing you to do anything you didn't want to do. If, after you've heard the whole story, you decide you don't want to take part, you're free to go your own way, with nary a complaint from me." The stallion extended a hoof, and asked, "Deal?"

Trixie took it, and shook it once again. "Deal."

Author's Note

The song in question is a 13th century composition, normally a rota, meant to be sung by multiple people, but can be sung just as easily by one. The lyrics go as follows:

Middle English

Sumer is icumen in,
Lhude sing, cuccu;
Groweth sed
and bloweth med,
And springth the wode nu;
Sing, cuccu!

Awe bleteth after lomb,
Lhouth after calue cu;
Bulluc sterteth,
Bucke uerteth,

Murie sing, cuccu!
Cuccu, cuccu,
Wel singes thu, cuccu;
Ne swic thu naver nu.

Sing, cuccu, nu; sing, cuccu;
Sing, cuccu; sing, cuccu, nu!

Modern English

Spring has arrived,
Loudly sing, cuckoo!
The seed is growing
And the meadow is blooming,
And the wood is coming into leaf now,
Sing, cuckoo!

The ewe is bleating after her lamb,
The cow is lowing after her calf;
The bullock is prancing,
The billy-goat farting, (Alternately, The stag/billy goat cavorting, depending on your translation)

Sing merrily, cuckoo!
Cuckoo, cuckoo,
You sing well, cuckoo,
Never stop now.

Sing, cuckoo, now; sing, cuckoo;
Sing, cuckoo; sing, cuckoo, now!

You can hear it sung here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BVdA9t-AOfU

A Song To Remember

"Is something wrong with your sister?"

Trixie looked over at Gravy, a little bit surprised. The two of them were walking down the road, pulling their respective carts. Elle was asleep in Trixie's cart, along with Biscuits, who seemed to have taken a shine to the disguised changeling. Since Trixie had found the changeling yesterday, the little one had spent a great deal of time sleeping. Given that, by the youngster's own admission, that she had spent a three weeks sitting out in the open, without sleep and without protection from the elements, Trixie could understand why. She hoped the changeling wouldn't catch ill after all of that...

Given the changeling's unusual behavior, the performer could understand why Gravy would be a bit concerned. "Well, she's not my sister," Trixie admitted, "I just found her on the side of the road yesterday. Ah, but why do you think something is wrong with her?"

Gravy, still masked, turned his head to one side, and said, "Well, she seems kind of... distant. She's the first kid I did the 'Invisible Monkey' skit with who didn't even crack a smile. I thought that she... wait, did you just say you found her on the side of the road?"

Trixie nodded, and said, "Yes. She was being... menaced by a group of Timberwolves. I've dealt with such creatures before, so it wasn't difficult to be rid of them: just rattle some pots and pans together, and they take off. After speaking with her, I decided that the best thing to do would be to take her with me."

The jester, his posture reflecting the confusion in his tone, asked, "What about her family?"

The magician shrugged, and said, "The only family she has is her... father, although I hesitate to use that title to describe someone like that. After hearing about the way he's treated her, well, I won't be taking her anywhere near him."

"Yikes," Gravy said, "Just, um, how bad was it?" He seemed extremely nervous about asking that question, as if worried he'd want to immediately unhear the answer...

With a long sigh, Trixie said, "I'm not sure how I can explain it without betraying her trust in me. Suffice it to say that it was terrible enough that I would prefer never to hear the details of her... upbringing."

With a visible shiver, Gravy said, "Fair enough." After a little more walking, Gravy asked, "So, what were you doing before you decided to start on the road to the Crystal Empire?"

Trixie, after a moment's hesitation, shook her head sadly, then said, "I made a total fool of myself. Twice. Both times, it was because I had too much pride for my own good. The first time, my mouth wrote a check that my horn couldn't cash. The second time, I decided that I wanted to get back at somepony, and nearly drove myself insane doing so."

Gravy tilted his head to one side, then asked, "Wait... you're 'The Great And Powerful Trixie'?"

With another sigh, the mare admitted, "Yes. Although I am seriously considering dropping the 'Great and Powerful' from the name."

The stallion nodded, and said, "The might be a good idea. The Crystal Empire has probably had it's fill of great and powerful unicorns. You might want to stick with something simpler, like maybe 'The Amazing', or 'The Magnificent'." After a moment's thought, Gravy asked, "So you're hoping to get yourself established in the Crystal Empire before the story about your, ah, mistakes reach the ears of the locals?"

Nodding, the magician admitted, "Exactly." As they continued walking on, Trixie asked, "And what about you? What were you doing before you were invited to the Crystal Empire."

Chuckling to himself, Gravy said, "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

Raising an eyebrow, Trixie asked, "Oh really? Try me, you might be surprised what I'd believe today." The last two days alone had been incredibly strange, so she could see herself believing almost anything that the stallion in front of her said.

"Alright," the stallion said, his voice now filled with mirth. "I was getting something published."

Now that was surprising. He hardly seemed the scholarly type. "You've written a book?"

Laughing aloud, Gravy said, "I've written more than a dozen. They aren't exactly best seller material, though, since they're kind of dry. Still, I imagine that there isn't a library in Equestria that doesn't have at least one of my works on its shelves. Most university libraries carry the whole set."

Now this was fascinating to hear. She'd rather expected to hear that he'd written children's stories, or joke books, but a dry work that would still be considered a valuable addition to a library's shelves? What kind of book could that be? "Well," Trixie asked, hesitantly, "I don't suppose you would mind telling me what it's about?"

"I wouldn't mind," Gravy said, after a moment's thought, "But like I said, it's dry stuff. You'd probably find it terribly boring."

With a gesture towards the road ahead of them, Trixie said, "We have miles of road ahead of us. I honestly doubt that anything you've written could be more boring that us walking in silence."

"You might change your mind about that," Gravy said, chuckling. "Well, let me ask you this, before I get started: How much do you know about the law of gravity, and gravity manipulation spells?"

"What goes up, must come down, unless a magician says otherwise," Trixie said, confidently. While she might not have had the magical 'muscle' to be able to cast a spell like that, she certainly understood that much.

"A good answer," Gravy said, with a smile that could be heard in his voice, "But it doesn't describe the actual, factual law itself, or what the spells that manipulate that law really do. Gravity is a bit more complex than that..."

As Leiurus, or 'Elle', as she was currently being called, lay in bed, listened to the two unicorns talk, she 'tasted' the air with her horn, sensing the flow of affection between the two. While it wasn't love, specifically, it did feel like there was something forming between them. It was much too weak to be considered worth feeding off of, but the changeling believed that it would be a good idea to keep an eye on it...

However, the changeling was surprised that Trixie had made some sort of mistake, one that she was now trying to put behind her. Curious. While in Elle's eyes, the unicorn could do no wrong, at least right now, she couldn't help but wonder what the mare could have done that had gotten her into so much trouble. Well, not so much 'trouble', from the sound of it, so much as it was something that had damaged her reputation. Gravy seemed to know something about it: if an opportunity came, she would inquire about it, discreetly.

The changeling had the distinct impression that if she asked Trixie, it would make the unicorn very sad. Somehow, the idea of making Trixie sad was something that she couldn't bear to think about...

The conversation between the two ponies was definitely interesting, though. Elle's training had only been in magic, not the science behind it. She'd always kind of taken it on faith that a spell would always work the way it did, because that was how the spell was supposed to work. The idea that someone would ever sit down and work to figure out the how's and why's behind a spell was remarkable. Moreover, the idea that a spell served to manipulate a fundamental law of the cosmos was fascinating...

"So," Trixie said, struggling to keep up, "Every object has some measure of gravitational pull being exerted on every other object in the universe, all at the same time?" That much was... incredibly difficult to grasp on its own...

"Right," Gravy said, his tone light. "But the mass of the object, and just how close it is to another object, determines just how much of a pull it has. For example, the world is incredibly large, and we are right up against it, so it's pull has priority over everything else. Meanwhile, for something like you or I, the pull that our personal gravity would have would be the equivalent of an ant walking up to a mountain and trying to drag it away. The ant could pull for a thousand years, but the mountain would never budge an inch."

Nodding, Trixie said, "I suppose that makes sense. But just because it doesn't have a visible effect, doesn't mean it isn't there."

"Precisely. The trick of the gravity spell is that it doesn't just alter the gravitational relationship between an object and the world, but rather the relationship between any object, and any other object. However, it doesn't change the properties of mass: a heavy object remains difficult to move, since it's mass remains unchanged. However, if you remove the pull of the world, then strengthen the pull with something else, like increasing the gravitational pull of the sun, then you can get something like my levitating cart here."

"Or," Trixie said, putting two and two together, "Like how you were able to lift my cart up, and keep it up, when I needed to fix it earlier."

"Very observant. Yes, that's exactly right," Gravy said, nodding. "You could also reverse that relationship using a spell, causing an effect like being pushed away. The effect is like falling, only in the opposite direction. It takes more power, though: magic is always more difficult when you're trying to do something that goes against the laws of the cosmos. Making two objects more attractive to one another is easy, forcing them apart will have a great deal more resistance."

Raising an eyebrow, Trixie said, "That... makes a lot of sense." After a moment's thought, Trixie couldn't help but ask, "And you write books about this kind of thing? I wouldn't have thought..."

"...That I would be the type?" Gravy laughed, his tone still light, "Well, I'll clue you in on a secret. This is something that I was told by somepony much, much wiser than I am, and I have found it to be the pure and simple truth. 'Your mark will guide you towards what you are best at. However, that doesn't mean that it's the only thing you'll be good at, or even great at. It is a sad, sad pony who only has one talent to their name, and you can drive yourself to madness by pursuing your special talent to the exclusion of all else.'" After a moment, his tone turned a bit more serious. "Sometimes the simplest truths are the ones that are the most important, and the most easily overlooked."

Trixie mulled on that for a little bit. She had, herself, pursued her own special talent for quite some time, to the exclusion of almost everything else. That hadn't made her any happier. She'd tried to show off her skills in an effort to win friends and the admiration of others, but instead had ended up making herself into a laughingstock at first, and then a monster. Maybe it was time to start looking into something else, something other than just magic...

"Anyways," Gravy said, breaking Trixie out of her reverie, "That's why I'm out here on the road, in a jester's costume, instead of some dry, dusty office scratching away on a chalkboard, trying to unlock the secrets of the universe with math and science. It's much more fun to see the world than it is to try and convert it into a mathematical formula. You can convert a song into notes on a sheet of paper, but hearing the notes is always much more enjoyable than seeing them written down."

Nodding, Trixie couldn't help but agree...

Strange as it would sound, Elle had far more trouble following Gravy as he described his personal philosophies than she did when he was talking about science and mathematics. She had been taught to be logical, not emotional. The idea of something making you happy or sad was still foreign territory to her.

It was when Gravy mentioned songs that a memory came flooding back from the the past. Her first instinct was to push it away. After all, that was what she had been ordered to do all her life.

Wait...

Just who had ordered her to do that? Braconidae. And Trixie said that Elle could ignore any order that he had given. So instead, the changeling embraced the memory.

It was warm, this memory, if a little hard. But then, changelings, even mothers, were like that. Her voice was sweet, and gentle, and soft. She sang. The song, not a lullaby, but something else, something she was supposed to remember. It seemed like it was important. Even with an eidetic memory, it was difficult for her to recall right away. As she remembered it, she felt an urge to sing it herself. Singing was forbidden as well, but if Braconidae didn't like it, Elle decided that he could just come here and try to stop her...

Trixie's ears perked up as she heard what sounded like singing coming from her cart. Gravy also seemed startled by the sound. The fact that it was Elle's voice raised in song was startling, but the fact that this was the first time that she'd heard any emotion in the changeling's voice since they first met made this all the more incredible...

Come here, child, and listen well,
It's a cold world in which we dwell.
Some things I fear you'll need to know,
While along your path you'll go.

The world is strange, fierce, and wild,
With little pity for you, my child.
The path you'll walk will be so tough,
I fear your strength won't be enough.

So to help you on your way,
Remember well the words I say.
When the hardest foe is in your path,
you'll find you'll need a wizard's staff.

A wizard's staff, a wizard's staff,
What you'll need is a wizard's staff.
A wizard's staff, a wizard's staff,
Build yourself a wizard's staff.

Take a rod, straight and true,
Any kind of wood will do.
These symbols, you must engrave,
They'll help you when in danger grave.

The sun, the moon, the heart, the shield,
Will make a ward that will not yield.
The six-point star, the last you'll need,
To perform a mighty deed.

Take a stone, from crystal bright,
To shine in this, your darkest night.
Bind it tight with a cheerful laugh,
For now you have a wizard's staff.

A wizard's staff, a wizard's staff,
Now you have a wizard's staff.
A wizard's staff, a wizard's staff,
Forever yours, the wizard's staff.

When the song ended, Trixie was... stunned. That really couldn't be...

Trixie asked, a little hesitantly, "Elle, um, would you mind writing that down for me? I've never heard that song before, and I wouldn't mind singing it sometime."

After a moment, Elle responded, in the same distant monotone she always used, "Affirmative."

Trixie and Gravy shared a look. The method of making a wizard's staff was considered a lost art: there had not been any who could build one since Starswirl The Bearded. If that really was the way of creating one...

Well, who knew what else may be rattling around in that little lady's head?

The Importance Of Play

"This looks like a good place to spend the night."

Trixie looked around at the small roadside clearing that their small party had reached. It was most definitely intended as a picnic area, with benches and picnic tables in clear view, and charmingly scenic. There was even a small pond, perfect for a quick bath. She could not imagine a better place to stop and rest. Gravy was right: It was unlikely that they'd find a better place to rest before sunset.

Looking over her shoulder, she checked on 'Elle'. Since her little performance earlier, the young changeling had not volunteered another word. Trixie couldn't help but worry about her new ward: Even now that she was free of whatever influence her father and others had over her, she was so silent and withdrawn that the only comparison she could make was with a mare she had met at the Rock Farm by the name of Maud Pie. And yet Leiurus Quinquestriatus managed to combine that with a strange sort of emotional emptiness that was honestly quite distressing. Maud Pie might not have had many interests beyond rocks, but at least she had an interest in something. Meanwhile, the little changeling riding in Trixie's cart did not even have that much to her name: All she had was orders about what to and what not to do.

Silently, Trixie wondered whether the young filly might have been permanently damaged on an emotional and psychological level. If so, there was a strong possibility that she would never be 'normal'. When she reached the Crystal Empire, she would have to see about finding a therapist for the young lady. In the meantime...

"Yes, I agree," Trixie said, with a smile. Looking over her shoulder again, Trixie said, "Elle, we're going to stop here for the night. Why don't you get out and stretch your legs, maybe play around a little?"

"Affirmative," was her immediate replay. Elle promptly climbed out of the cart, walked over to the clearing, made a show of stretching (With a couple of surprisingly loud pops as she did so), then promptly turned around, sat down, and said, "Awaiting further instructions."

Gravy, his head tilted to one side, asked, "Instructions for what?"

The disguised changeling replied, with her perfectly deadpan tone, "How to play."

With a jingle of his belled costume, the jester looked, first at Trixie, then at Elle, then back again, and asked, "Is she joking?"

Trixie, after a moment, replied, "I don't think she knows what a joke is."

"Right," Gravy said, then looked over at his cart. After a moment, he called out, "Biscuits, get your ball and get out here!"

The little monkey promptly emerged from Gravy's cart, a blue ball clasped in its little monkey paws. With an excited hoot, it jumped from the cart to Gravy's head, setting the jester's hat jingling.

Looking over at Elle, the jester said, "Elle, Biscuits needs some exercise. He gets exercise by playing keep away with his ball." At the little one's blank expression, Gravy added, "He runs around with the ball, and you try to take it from him with your teeth. If you succeed, you run around with it until he takes it back. Don't leave the clearing, and don't take it too seriously, since it is just a game. Do that until either one of you gets tired. Do you understand me?"

Nodding, Elle said, "Affirmative."

The monkey promptly hopped from atop Gravy's head, and began running off, ball held over his head in his little paws, and Elle promptly chased after him.

"That little lady has some serious emotional issues. Or maybe the exact opposite of that," Gravy said, after watching the two take off.

Blowing a breath out between her lips in frustration, Trixie couldn't help but agree. While she was glad that Elle would be occupied for a bit, the showmare had no idea how she was going to be able to deal with the youngster over the long-term. She honestly didn't know how to deal with normal fillies: An abnormal one like Elle was far beyond her ability to cope with. After a moment, Trixie said, "Well, sunset isn't far off. Do you need any help setting up camp?"

With a shrug that set his bells off, Gravy said, "Not really. My tent is pretty easy to get ready." Looking over at Trixie, he asked, 'Do you?"

With a small giggle, Trixie admitted, "I don't really need to: My cart is already set up so that I can just plop down and sleep as soon as I stop, if need be." Looking over at Elle, who had just successfully stolen Biscuits' ball and was now running off with it, Trixie added, "But I suppose I might be in need of an extra bedroll and blanket. While I don't mind letting Elle share my own, mine was meant for one, rather than one and a half. And a extra pillow would certainly help as well."

Gravy looked over at his cart, then said, "I may have some spare blankets I can loan you, and I know I have at least one extra pillow." With a cheerful tone, he added, "Need any help cooking supper?" Biscuits, meanwhile, had climbed atop Elle's back, and was trying to snag the ball out of the young lady's mouth.

Unable to stop herself from smiling, Trixie replied, "Not really, but help would still be appreciated. But, um..." Looking a bit ashamed, she admitted, "I, um, left the last town I was visiting in a bit of a hurry. I didn't have the time to restock my larder, so I don't have much asides from the makings of a vegetable soup and a few packages of biscuits." Not exactly the proudest moment of her life. She wasn't going to starve, thankfully, but it was going to be a while before flavor would become a part of her vocabulary again...

"I have plenty," Gravy said, his tone surprisingly serious, "and I would be happy to share."

That was... incredibly kind of him. And she'd not even asked. "I... thank you, Gravy." She felt her cheeks becoming warm, and hoped, desperately, that she wasn't blushing too brightly...

Elle walked back over to the pair, the monkey still riding atop her back with the ball held triumphantly over his head. The disguised changeling said, in a surprisingly breathless tone, "I feel tired now." While she couldn't be certain, Trixie could almost swear that there was a ghost of a smile on the 'filly's' face.

Right, she'd likely still be somewhat worn out, given what she'd been through before Trixie had found her. Still, it was nice to have seen her playing, somewhat like an ordinary filly. "Well," the showmare said, after a moment's thought, "be a dear get the bedroll in order. Then you can take a nap until supper is ready."

"Affirmative."

Appearances

"You're used to dealing with younger ponies, I take it?"

Gravy chuckled as he dug into a bowl of vegetable soup. Trixie hadn't been kidding when she said that she had enough ingredients for a vegetable soup. Combined with a few items from Gravy's own substantial stores, and a few items from his spice rack, and the result had turned out to be both flavorful and aromatic. Much better than what he normally ate on the road. Eating with the mask on was tricky, but... well, he had reasons for wanting to keep his face covered. Too many assumptions could be made, especially once they reached the Crystal Empire...

He, Trixie, and Elle were seated around a small campfire, each one eating their supper. Well, he and Trixie were eating. Elle was not, although Biscuits, like a typical monkey, was cheerfully helping himself to the filly's bowl. Gravy filed that little tidbit of information away for future reference. He'd already determined that the young filly, or perhaps he should say 'filly', was not normal. That much was obvious. What the jester had quickly determined, however, was that she wasn't simply 'not-normal' for a filly, but 'not-normal' period.

However, it really wasn't Gravy's business what Elle really was. Trixie seemed to have things well in hoof, so the last thing this situation needed was Gravy butting his head into things.

Clearing his throat and nodding, Gravy admitted, "A keen observation. Yeah. When I was younger, I had a bit of a breakdown. I... went too far into numbers, to the exclusion of everything else. Not a good idea. I... might have gone a little loony for a bit. After I received a bit of assistance, it was recommended that I try teaching mathematics to others, rather than just spending all day in front of a chalkboard crunching numbers. It turns out that my special talent including being able to teach mathematics to young ponies."

An eyebrow raised, Trixie noted, "You seem a little bit young to be a teacher."

Gravy said, without preamble, "I received my doctorate in mathematics when I was eight years old." At Trixie's dropped jaw, the 'jester' chuckled behind his mask and added, "Like I said, when I found out what my special talent was, I went at it with a will. Too much of a will, to be honest with you. I almost burned myself out completely at the ripe old age of eleven." He sighed and shook his head. After a moment, he gave a small laugh and continued, "Still, a twelve year old trying to teach a classroom full of children the basics of mathematics was a bit of a sight. It was a rocky start at first, but it turned out pretty well, all things considered."

Trixie, strangely enough, looked over at Elle for a moment, then back at Gravy, and asked, "Have you ever run into any other... prodigies like yourself?"

Shrugging, Gravy admitted, "Not really, no. I've encountered some bright ponies in my time, but none of them who were quite as... intensely motivated as I was. I did try to keep my eyes open for one of course, but the odds of running into one would be the same as being struck by lightening. Twice. In a row. On a clear, sunny day."

"Any advice you'd want to give to one?" Trixie cleared her throat, then added, "If you ran into one, I mean?"

The jester thought for a moment, then admitted, "Take the time to stop and smell the roses. Go out, make friends, or just roll around in the grass and laugh. The world won't fall apart just because you took a little time off to be happy."

Surprisingly, Elle said, "Affirmative." She then stood up, walked over to a nearby patch of grass, then began rolling around on it, making dull little 'ha' sounds every few seconds. Biscuits, at first surprised at the filly's sudden actions, immediately joined her with enthusiasm.

Strange girl, that one, but Gravy couldn't help but like her.

A few hours later...

Trixie woke to a sudden noise. Raising her head, she saw that Elle had gotten out of her bedding on the floor of the cart. Thankfully, Gravy had turned out to have more than enough blankets and pillows to spare, so that the disguised changeling had a bed to herself. Not that Trixie had minded sharing a bed, but changelings, the stage magician had learned, were rather solid, and pointy, making the experience a challenging one.

Clearing her throat, the mare asked, "What are you doing, Elle?"

"I am thirsty," Elle said bluntly, "I am going to get a drink of water. I will return shortly."

Nodding, Trixie said, "Okay." Snuggling back into her blankets, the show-mare went back to sleep. It had not occurred to her, before she drifted off, that Elle was not currently in disguise...

Elle had been given a great deal to digest in the last forty-eight hours. So much so, in fact, that she had found herself unable to sleep, her mind a chaotic tumble of thoughts, and perhaps more importantly, feelings. Trixie's order to set aside all past orders had, in a way, taken away the foundation of her young life. And yet...

And yet, she didn't dislike it.

It was strangely... liberating. For the first time in her life, she was free. And freedom, she found, was both terrifying... and exhilarating. Leiurus Quinquestriatus, the Deathstalker, child prodigy magic user of the changeling hive, and designated living weapon of the swarm, could, if she so chose, fly to Canterlot Castle, burst into the throne room, and 'boop' both Princess Luna and Princess Celestia on the nose. She could roller-skate in their grand ballroom (After she learned to roller-skate, of course). She could paint herself pink with purple polka dots and run through the streets of Canterlot while shouting 'I'm being silly and nopony can stop me!' There were no rules saying she could not, and it was likely that nopony really would try and stop her. With the orders that formed the framework of her behavior gone, the only limits were her imagination and her endurance...

Sadly, given that she had spent three weeks without rest and was still recovering strength, her endurance was severely limited. And her imagination... well, it seemed it was still needing some time to get out and stretch out its legs. Still, if the thoughts that had just rumbled through her mind were any indication, it was starting to wake up for the first time since she was two-and-a-half... before her father had told her to put a stop to imagining things...

Elle was new to experiencing emotions, but she was pretty sure that the emotion that she associated with her father was hate. Yes, that was it. Hatred. Hatred that burned with heat like unto the fiery furnace, neigh, the volcano eruptant, neigh, THE MOLTEN BASALT OF CREATION!!! RAAAARGH!!! HATE HATE HATE!!! MAKE HIM PAY!!! MAKE HIM PAY FOREVER!!! OR LONGER!!! MAKE A WAY FOR FOREVER TO LAST LONGER SO HE CAN PAY EVEN MORE!!! HATE!!! HATE!!! HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAATE!!!

...Okay, wow, she'd have to learn to keep a lid on that. That kind of anger could not possibly be healthy, especially for a five year old.

Looking over at the small pond, Elle noticed that Gravy was seated by the pond, and seemed to be washing his face off in the water.

Walking over to opposite side (For obvious sanitary reasons), Elle dipped her muzzle into the water and took a long drink. The water was cool, sweet, and surprisingly clean. As she raised her head, she was surprised to see Gravy staring at her in something approaching amusement.

And the fact that he was not wearing his mask made his expression clear.

"Huh," the jester said, seeming to have difficulty in keeping from laughing, "those are some right fancy pajamas you've got on right now."

Elle looked down and noticed that she was not wearing any sort of disguise. Well, she could hardly be blamed for that: Changelings cannot sustain a disguise in their sleep, and her experience with with keeping her nature hidden was practically nil.

So, congratulations, Gravy now knew that she was a changeling, and she only had herself to blame.

"That answers a few questions," the jester continued, "yet it raises a thousand others." Fitting his mask over his face, he added, "But I don't intend to pry, especially into the life of a five year old filly. Still, would you mind telling me, does Trixie know?"

Elle saw no point in lying, and simply nodded.

Nodding in return, he said, "Good. I'd hate to think you were trying to take advantage of her." Gesturing towards his face, Gravy said, "I'll make you a deal: When we get to the Crystal Empire, if you will stay quiet about this..." he paused then pointed at her, finishing with, "I will keep quiet about that. Deal?"

A strange request. It wasn't as if he had any sort of a scar or other disfiguring marks. Still, it would be best if her nature remained unknown. Elle nodded.

"Good," the jester said as he rose to his hooves. "Now, you should get some sleep: Tomorrow will be an exciting day, and I doubt you'll be getting much sleep on the way."

Curious, Elle asked, "What happens tomorrow?"

"A lesson in applied gravitational manipulation: We'll be catching a train the fun way," Gravy said with a chuckle.

As Elle settled back in, she was somewhat thankful for a new mystery to puzzle on, rather than the chaotic ping-pong of a jumble her mind had been just a few minutes before: Why would Gravy want the details of his face to remain a secret? It wasn't as if he was ugly. In fact, he was handsome, in a tall, dark, and mysterious way. His dark gray coat was clean and well-maintained, as was his long, black mane. The long sideburns were a little odd, but not unattractive. His red eyes were a little intimidating, she supposed, but overall, he had nothing to hide... so why was he hiding it? There was something here that she wasn't getting, but she had no clue what it might be...

With that thought, she promptly fell asleep...