I Will Be Your Daddy

by DoctorDizzy

Rating: teen
Tags: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Alternate Universe, Sad, Romance, Princess Luna, Changelings, Original Character, Princess Cadance, Adventure, Princess Celestia
Length: 89857

After witnessing the murder of her parents, Fletcher rescues a newly orphaned pony foal from a group of bandits. Now that she's safe, he must find a home for her, because caring for her himself is completely out of the question.

Fletcher only cared about one thing: protecting his allies. That is, while he still had them. Several years after his exile from the hive, he comes across and rescues a pony foal from the bandits that killed her parents. Now that she's safe, he must find a home for her. Shouldn't be too hard. Ponies are nice... to their own kind anyway. One thing's for sure: caring for her himself is completely out of the question.

Author's note: The alternate universe tag is for a few reasons. Mainly because while Shining Armor exists in this universe, he's Twilight's LBBFF (Little Brother Best Friend Forever). The Changeling invasion on Canterlot still happened, just... differently. Other than that, everything's mostly the same. The timeline is somewhere between season 2 and 3.

Featured 01/17/15 :pinkiegasp:

Published 2014-02-17 18:30:06 UTC
Last updated 2017-07-29 23:19:33 UTC

Chapter 3: Canterlot

The rain finally stopped a few minutes before Fletcher made it to the city, so he ditched the door. A few of the townsfolk had already begun to reemerge into the streets and were returning to their usual activities. Fletcher approached a stallion in a suit that was standing with an equally well-dressed mare.

“Pardon me, Sir,” he said.

The stallion turned to him and gave him a look of horror and disgust. For a moment Fletcher thought his disguise had failed.

“Ugh, stay back, boy, you’re filthy!” the stallion yelled, thrusting out a hoof to keep him at bay.

Fletcher blinked. He looked down at himself and saw that his legs were covered in mud. Well of course they were. That’s what happens when you walk down muddy roads for several miles.

“What do you want?” he asked rather harshly.

“I’m sorry to bother you, Sir…” no I’m not, “but there’s been a rather terrible incident, recently.” Fletcher turned to show the bundle on his back. “This filly’s parents were killed a few hours ago. Can you tell me where the nearest orphanage is?”

“Oh, how dreadful!” the mare gasped.

“Mmm, indeed,” the stallion feigned concern. “I’m sorry, but I’m afraid there aren’t any orphanages here in Canterlot, thank goodness. I believe you’ll find the closest one, in one of the little towns surrounding the area. However, if there really has been a murder in the area, you had best report it to the Royal Guard. Now, if you don’t mind we’ll be taking our leave, Sir. Come Tulip,” he said, before cantering away.

Fletcher growled as he watched them leave. In general, ponies were the nicest, but just like every other race, there were always a few rotten apples. It was taking every bit of self-control he had, to keep himself from tearing that snooty jerk a new page. Especially after that ‘thank goodness’ comment. What was that supposed to mean?

His thoughts were interrupted by a quiet mewling from his back. The filly was shifting in her sleep. He looked back at her for a moment. You’re right. Fletcher took in a deep breath, then let it out as he let his frustrations go. He had bigger problems. When the filly woke up, she would need milk, and if the nearest orphanage was as far away as the pony said it was, that was a problem.

The stallion had also made a pretty good point about reporting the murder. Someone would find the scene eventually. It would probably be best if it was the Royal Guard, rather than some mare or a foal. But then he’d have to tell them what happened to the gryphons.

...

He could try telling them he was just a passerby that found the scene as it was, and found the foal crying in the middle of it.

With a nod, Fletcher decided that was probably the best course of action. Hoping they could possibly help him with his first problem as well, Fletcher turned towards the castle, but not before stealthily smearing a bit of mud on the back of a certain pony’s suit.

I love magic.

Fletcher scaled the steps to the castle doors and approached the two guards stationed there. One of them held up a hoof to him.

“Please state your business, Sir,” he said with a stoic face.

“I need to report an incident to the Royal Guard.” Fletcher replied.

The guard nodded and held a door open. “Follow me please.”

Fletcher followed the guard inside and down the main hall. He led him up the stairs and down a corridor. Then he turned to a particular hall and pointed.

“You see where that guard is standing post?" he asked.

Looking down the hall, Fletcher saw another guard standing at the end. He looked back at his guide and nodded.

"The room behind him is the Office of the Royal Guard. Make your report with the Officers at the desk. They'll let you know if they need anything else from you, otherwise a guard will escort you back to front doors," he told him.

Fletcher gave him a quiet thank you and headed down the hall as the guard returned to his own post. He gave the other guard a weak smile when he gestured for him to enter the room. Inside were two officers sitting stoically behind the desk.

“Good afternoon, what brings you here today, Sir?” one of the officers asked politely.

“Good afternoon, Officer. I’m here to report the scene of several murders out on the south west road, about six or seven miles out.”

The Officers blinked. The one that had addressed him sat up even straighter and franticly fumbled for a quill.

“Sweet mother of hay bales,” he muttered as he jotted down what he’d heard so far. “Ahem*, please go on. Did you happen to recognize any of the victims?”

Fletcher shook his head and turned to show the foal. “No Sir, but this filly’s parents were among them.”

The guards ponies’ eyes grew wide. They turned to each other and shared a stern nod. They turned back to him and said, “Please come with us, the Princess will want to hear about this herself.”

Fletcher froze.

WHAT?! I can’t meet the Princess! If she finds out what I am, she’ll have me executed!

“Sir?”

Fletcher shook his head. “What?”

“Are you coming?”

It’s alright Fletcher, you can do this. You aren’t impersonating anyone, so there’s no way for her to clue in… I think. “Y-Yes, of course,” he chuckled nervously.

The guard turned to his colleague at the door and hoofed him the sheet of paper.
“Round up Delta squadron and investigate this site.”

The guard saluted and galloped off. The remaining guards proceeded to lead Fletcher up to the throne room.

By the time they arrived before the throne room doors, Fletcher was quivering. The giant doors were pulled open. Fletcher's poor heart threatened to jump out of his throat when the Solar Princess looked up from the paperwork she was doing. To his added horror, he noticed that Princess Cadence was there as well. She must have been visiting. Oh goodie, I get to meet not one, but two Princesses who hate changelings. Lucky me.

One of the guards that had escorted him there, flew up to Celestia and whispered something in her ear. Fletcher could tell what he said because he watched the Princess’ eyes widened with shock before her concerned glance fell upon him.

“General Lock Heart tells me you have some very grave news indeed, my little pony. Please step forward. Tell us everything,” she said gently.

Fletcher tried his best to keep his legs from wobbling. It wasn’t working too well, and he got called out on it.

“Please be at ease, my good stallion. You have nothing to fear,” the Princess said with a soothing voice.

Ha! That’s what you think.

Then Fletcher felt a sudden tidal wave of love wash over him. It was strong love too. Not like that of lovers, but a powerful motherly love. Despite the horrifying situation, he couldn’t help but feel soothed as the love poured into him. Even his shaking legs had settled. He looked up at the Princess’ face and practically melted under her kind smile. He couldn’t believe it. No pony he had come across before, had ever felt this much love for a complete stranger. It just went to show how much the Princess really did care about her subjects...

...and how much Fletcher didn’t belong here!

Trying to get this over with as soon as possible, he approached the throne and cleared his throat.

“I was walking down the road when I found a carriage and several bodies strewn about in the mud. The carriage had a broken axle and its windows and doors were busted in. In the mud, just outside of the carriage, were a stallion and a mare.”

Fletcher continued with solemness in his voice. “The stallion had been shot, and the mare wasn’t breathing. Based on other evidence, my guess is that she… she was bludgeoned to death.” He paused.

“Please, continue at your leisure,” the Princess cooed.

“...There were five gryphons. They had masks and clubs, one had a crossbow. I think they were bandits. The strange part was, they had the pony couple surrounded, but they were already lying dead in the mud. Most of their beaks were broken. They seemed to have other injuries, but I stayed away from them, so I don’t know.”

Fletcher turned to show the sleeping filly on his back before he continued.

“I found her lying between her parents, crying. When I picked her up I discovered that the stallion was still alive, but he didn’t last very long.”

“Did he say what happened?” Cadence asked.

“He said the gryphons ambushed their carriage and were robbing them, when somepony came and beat them up. Then they took off after the rest of them, thinking the ponies were already dead.”

“My goodness! How fortunate for the foal that you had come along. Did the stallion say anything else? Who were they?”

Fletcher shook his head. “No, he just asked me to promise him to take care of his daughter. I told him I’d make sure she was taken care of.”

“What is her name?”

Fletcher shook his head again. “He wouldn’t tell me. He told me to give her a name. He seemed adamant that I take her as my own, no matter how I tried to tell him I couldn’t.”

“So you won’t be taking the foal then?” Cadence asked.

Fletcher swallowed and looked at the floor. “I-I can’t your Highness,” he responded sadly.

“Why not?” she asked, turning her head to the side.

“I… I just couldn’t…”

While Fletcher was telling his story, Celestia had been looking at his hooves. Something didn’t quite add up. He said that he stayed clear of the dead gryphons, but amongst the caked mud in his fur, she saw blood… and small shards of orange.

Something else had caught her attention. The pony had an odd scar over his eye. It wouldn’t be too out of the ordinary to have one cut, but to have two of them criss-crossing like that made it hard to imagine any sort of accident that could cause such a wound. Celestia looked up as the stallion continued.

“...so I dried her off, took the carriage door to shield us from the rain, and we walked here to find a place that would take care of her, but we came here first to report the... scene.”

Celestia smiled. “Thank you so much, my little pony, for the great deed you’ve done today. Before we continue to the matter of the foal, we need to follow some simple protocol. Since you are the only witness to come forward thus far, your word alone is all we have to go on. Because of this, sadly, it also makes you a prime suspect. But don’t worry,” she reassured him as the pony visibly tensed. “We simply need to conduct a lie detection test to clear your name. Surely you don’t mind, do you?”

On the outside Fletcher just smiled dumbly. Inside he was going into full scale panic. A lie detector spell?! Nah, of course I don’t mind. I’m already in the manticore’s den, why don’t I just cook my own broth for him to stew me in while I’m at it!

“U-um… n-no your Highness, I don’t mind, but are you sure that’s really necessary?” he quivered.

She gave him an understanding smile. “It’s just simple protocol. Don’t worry, there’s nothing to worry about.”

You keep saying that, but it isn’t getting any more reassuring. Putting himself in such a vulnerable situation was basically suicide, but he also knew that any hesitation on his part would make him look like he had something to hide.

“V-very well, your Highness. As you wish,” he muttered.

“Excellent! General Lock Heart, if you would act as scribe, please?”

The guard nodded. Picking up a quill and a scroll, he showed his ready.

“Very good, let us begin,” she said as she cast a clear bubble over the stallion and the filly.

Fletcher knew about lie detector spells. If the subject told the truth, the sphere would turn blue. If not, it would turn red. There wasn’t a spell in the world that could help him fool it.

“We’ll start simply,” the Princess continued. “What is your name?”

Thank goodness I’m not impersonating someone right now.

“F-Fletcher, your Highness,” he replied. As expected the sphere turned blue.

“Very good. Now, you’ve come here today to report the scene of multiple murders, as well as bring this foal to find safety and care, is that correct?”

“Yes, your Majesty,” he replied. Again the sphere turned blue.

“For the sake of removing you from the list of suspects, did you kill this filly’s parents, or cause them harm, either directly or indirectly?” she asked.

Fletcher froze. Not because he was worried about how to answer the question, but because he knew what was coming next.

“N-no, your Highness,” he answered as he started to quiver again. Again the sphere turned blue.

“I never doubted you,” she said with a smile. Then her expression turned slightly more serious. “Now, did you kill the gryphons?”

Author's Note

Dun Dun Duh

Hey guys,
Really glad to see how positively this story has been received. Thank you for your support.

As always, if you like it be sure to show it! Fav and Like but be sure to comment too!
Till next time,
Cheers!

Chapter 4: Secret's Out

And there it was. Fletcher didn’t say anything. How could he? He was stuck. There was no way to answer that without being cast into prison for murder. Which admittedly, was better than being cast in prison for being a changeling, seeing as how it was an actual crime. Yet it still spelled death for him since he would die of starvation. A convicted murderer wasn’t likely to get many smiles from his jailers.

Seeing him pause, the Princess smiled. She figured that was the case.

“Allow me to ask again. Fletcher, did you kill the gryphons, in the defence of my little ponies, and in the interest of saving the life of the filly who is currently sleeping on your back?” she asked gently.

Fletcher looked up at her in shock. She was... offering him a way out? He couldn’t believe it. She put a positive, and even heroic spin on five counts of murder in her Kingdom. It was completely true, mind you, but Fletcher never thought the Ruler or the Royal Guard of said Kingdom would see it that way. Yet she was smiling at him. Before he even answered, he could tell from the look in her eyes that she was going to forgive him. He was clear. The relief welled up inside, and a tear ran down the side of his face.

“Yes, your Majesty,” he croaked. “Given the choice to take it back, I would still do what I did, even a hundred times over. Less I could have done it sooner, and saved her parents as well,” he whispered.

Once again the sphere turned blue. The guards in the room looked shocked, but both Princesses gave the stallion a compassionate and knowing look.

“And why did you not say as such in your original statement?” the Princess asked quietly, knowing the answer before she asked.

Fletcher looked down. “I… I was afraid, your Highness.”

Celestia nodded. “Understandable. But fear not. If some bandit is willing to take up arms and kill innocent ponies for the sake of gaining money or goods, they’d best be prepared at the very least to face the hoof of justice. Had any of the Royal Guard been in your horseshoes at the time, they would have had my full permission, and even my commission, to defend the innocent by any means. Even to the effect of eliminating the attacker. While I certainly would prefer that the offenders be taken into custody, the most important thing is the welfare of the victims.

“As well, the fact that foreigners attacked civilians raises diplomatic issues. Such could easily be seen as an act of war, and I’ll need to bring this incident to the Ambassador's attention, but I digress. I sincerely thank you Fletcher, for what you’ve done today and for saving this infant’s life. I hereby pardon your transgressions performed in that interest.” She gave him a warm smile, which he returned with more tears down his face.

“Thank you, my most kind and gracious Princess,” he said with a bow.

Suddenly the sphere turned red. Everypony looked up at it in confusion, especially Fletcher.
He looked to the Princess, worried that she would think him ungrateful.

“Your Highness, I assure you, my feelings of gratitude are sincere.”
The sphere turned blue. So... what? It doesn’t believe I think she’s kind?

“... and I most certainly believe it was gracious and kind of you to grant me forgiveness.”

It turned blue again. This caused even more confusion in the room. Then it hit him. Hard.
She’s not my Princess!

Fletcher silently prayed that no one else would come to the same realisation. No. Such. Luck.

“Perhaps you’re not from around here, Mister Fletcher?” Celestia asked jovially.

Fletcher’s ears fell. “U-um… you could s-say that…” he stuttered.

The sphere turned blue. Cadence and the guards looked at him curiously.

“I had been wondering about this before, but might the scar over your eye have something to do with it?” The Princess asked.

Fletcher’s heart stopped. Faust have mercy, she knows! This is it. It’s all over. He was so close to walking free and clear, too, but thanks to his big mouth, he was as good as dead. There was nowhere to run either. Sure, he could easily take the guards out with the techniques he knew, but he'd sworn to only use those techniques if he was protecting someone. Protecting himself from lawful arrest didn’t count, and to be honest, he would rather turn himself in than hurt the ponies that were just doing their job.

With no options left, Fletcher sighed. It was judgement day. He was, surprisingly, coming to terms with it.

To the room’s surprise, rather than answer the question, Fletcher slowly untied the blanket that was binding the child to his back, and gingerly set her down on the floor in front of him, propping her head up with excess folds. He leaned down, and gently kissed her on the forehead. At least I managed to do right by somepony in the end. He took a few steps back, laid down with his chin on the floor, and put his hooves over the back of his head. Cadence raised her eyebrows.

“I mean nopony any harm, and I will not resist arrest,” he announced amongst confused glances.

Fletcher looked at the foal in front of him one last time, squeezed his eyes shut, and revealed his true form. He heard a gasp from Cadence before the room’s guards sprang to action.

“SEIZE HIM!” the general shouted.

All at once the guards were surrounding Fletcher, causing the lie detection sphere to dissipate. Cadence flew forward and grabbed the foal out of the way. True to his word, Fletcher didn’t resist as they grabbed his forelegs and lifted him up. He let his head go limp as a guard fitted a shackle around his neck, and another guard, an anti-magic clasp around his horn.

Amidst the guards’ yelling and the clamouring of armor, the foal had woken up and began to cry. Cadence rocked the foal back and forth and tried her best to comfort it, but the chaos in the room only magnified, as several more guards burst through the doors and took positions, some around the changeling and some in front of the Princesses, but all with their spears pointed at Fletcher. This only caused the poor filly to scream louder.

Fletcher could feel it. The room, and everything happening therein, faded to the background. The only thing he was conscious of, was the feeling coming from the foal. She was scared. The warm heartbeat she had felt for the last few hours was gone. There were strange smells, none of which were Mommy or Daddy. There was a lot of yelling and other noise. She was scared.

So Fletcher chirped. He didn’t move, or pull against the guards, he simply chirped. A long, beautiful whistling sound filled the room, and the guards went silent, watching him cautiously. Fletcher chirped several different melodies all at once, and in beautiful harmony. In response, the cries of the foal began to settle. He felt her feelings change. She knew this sound. It was pretty, and it was soft. It chased away her fears and made her feel like everything was ok. The filly finally settled and snuggled into Cadence’s fur. His objective fulfilled, Fletcher let the final notes fade from his lips and simply hung his head again.

The room was completely silent. The guards looked up at Celestia, unsure of what to do. She was about to speak, when a different voice broke the silence.

“That was beautiful. Quite stunning, even.”

Everyone in the room looked up to find the Princess of the Night standing in the royal entranceway next to the throne.

Everyone except for Fletcher that is. He didn’t bother. One more Princess in the room wouldn’t change his sentence. The moment he stopped chirping, he began to recede to the back of his mind. After all, he didn't have anything to worry about anymore. He had no more concerns. He didn't have to worry about finding 'food', or even worry about getting caught anymore. He didn't even have to pay attention to his surroundings.

So he let his body relax, closed his eyes, and tuned out the rest of the world. All that was left, was the familiar darkness of his own mind. He'd spent a lot of time here over the course of his life time. It was private, secluded. Many grand solutions were made here, and difficult puzzles solved. But with nothing in particular to focus on, the mind did what it often tends to do... reflect on memories past.

Master...

Author's Note

Wow, thank you guys so much for the positive reception. Maybe someday soon we'll make it to the Featured Box, huh?

Thank you to everyone for your comments. Seeing people enjoy my work is what I've always lived for, so thank you.

Next time, it's blast from the past, and over the next few chapters we'll finally get some answers as to how Fletcher was able to take out those gryphons so... extremely.

As always, if you like it be sure to show it! Like and Fav, but also share your thoughts.
Till next time,
Cheers!

Chapter 5: Innocence

Author's note: BOOM! CHAPTER! Happy Birthday everyone!
So a couple of notes before we get started:
Number one: If you haven't heard what Fletcher's lullaby sounds like yet, head on back a chapter and click the new link in the last scene. I collaborated with the fantastically talented Javyero on this project and he completely nailed my vision for changeling chirping, so check it out! It's beautiful!
Number two: It seems a lot of folks were confused by the last line of the last chapter, "Master...". I apologize. I wasn't trying to be cryptic or anything. The 'Master' he's referring to is his Master Dizzy Spell. The reason I bring this up is because I said we'd learn about him during this flashback arc, but he's not in this chapter. This is only chapter one out of three in the arc.
That said, and without further adieu... My friends, I present to you, Chapter 5: Innocence.

“Ba-tem! Ba-tem! Wait for this one!” Fletcher called out. He was running as fast as his tiny little legs could carry him, trying to catch up with two of the older males. When they stopped and turned around, Fletcher was going too fast to stop on his own. Luckily for him though, most of the adults were used to his… high energy, and the stallion he was about to run into had his forelegs open wide to receive him.

“Whoa, slow down there, Bo-nem,” the stallion chuckled. “If we weren’t here to stop you, you’d be halfway to Zebrica by now.”

Fletcher looked up at him with a sheepish smile as they laughed. “Sorry, Ba-tem Woolly,” he said.

In the hive, little foalings were raised by the entire colony, which meant they respected their elders. Good foalings called the adult stallions Ba-tem, and the adult mares Ma-tem. Conversely, little colts were called Bo-nem, and the fillies, Fa-nem. Also, good changelings did not refer to themselves as ‘I’, ‘me’, ‘my’, and so forth. Those were respectfully reserved for the Queen. Whenever they weren’t in disguise, changelings would refer to themselves as ‘this one’.

After his humble apology, Fletcher couldn’t help but laugh with the older males. Ba-tem Woolly and Ba-tem Mizer were two of his favorites. Unlike a lot of the adults that were usually depressed for some reason, Woolly and Mizer were just about always cheerful, and that really mattered to little foalings like him.

Woolly gave Fletcher a smile. “It’s ok, Bo-nem. What did you need?”

The foaling gave him a hopeful look.

“Can this one come on your mission with you?” he asked.

Both Woolly and Mizer winced. “Hmm... This one’s not sure, Kiddo. You’ve never been on a mission yet.”

“This one will be good, it promises! Pleeeeeeeease???”

That’s when Fletcher hit ‘em with his signature puppy dog eyes, and Woolly knew it was all over. He shared a look with Mizer and sighed.

“What are the rules?” he asked the foaling with an eye roll.

Fletcher’s face lit up. He was in! Eagerly, he began to recite the rules that had been drilled into him ever since he could talk.

“Always stay in character. Even small mistakes like a slip in language could blow your cover and possibly the whole mission,” he started.

Wooly and Mizer nodded. “M’hm, go on,” Woolly said.

“Never reveal yourself. Ponies are mean.

“Always keep your cover story straight.

“Always support another changeling’s cover story.

“Never talk to other changelings in disguise unless your characters know each other, or you have a private place to talk,” he recited.

“Yep, keep going,” Mizer said.

“Always choose inconspit… incomspek… incom… Always choose targets and disguises that don’t stand out... unless the mission dictates otherwise.”

The stallions had to strain themselves to keep from laughing. Inconspicuous was a hard word to say, so they felt for him, but it was just downright adorable to watch him try. They motioned for him to keep going.

“Never replace a target until you’ve gathered enough intel on them and their relations.

“Foalings should never use combat techniques, unless they get caught.

“If you do get caught, never blow another changeling’s cover. They can’t help you if they’re caught too.” he finished.

Woolly nodded. “And when in doubt…” he started for him.

“...follow Ma-tems’ and Ba-tems’ orders,” the foaling responded.

Woolly turned to Mizer. “Well?”

Mizer stroked his chin. “Hmm. Well it’s definitely too soon for him to try a replacement… Show these ones your best original disguise, Bo-nem.”

Fletcher nodded. He squeezed his eyes shut and concentrated hard. He thought about the characteristics he wanted and focused on the spell. Once he had all the thoughts stable and gathered at the front of his mind, he released the magic. The warm flames not only enveloped the surface of his body, but they coursed through his entire being, exchanging his chitin for skin and fur, and exoskeletal segments for bones. It didn’t hurt, but it sure tickled.

Contrary to other creatures’ popular belief, changelings weren’t completely like bugs. They did have some bones. They were more like turtles in that regard. They had spines, which were fused to the shell on their backs, and they had bones down to their knees. From the knee to the hoof however, they were exoskeletal, with segments at the fetlocks and hooves that allowed flexibility.

Fletcher felt the last of the flames dissipate. When he opened his eyes he looked down and was met with a little brown pegasi body. Checking himself over, he confirmed that his mane and tail were a dusty red. He turned to his Ba-tems with an expectant grin.

“What do you think?” he asked.

Mizer broke into snickers, while Woolly tried his best not to laugh. “Well, not too bad Kiddo, but uh… *snicker* you’ve uh… got one eye a different color than the other, there,” he said.

“Awwwwww, dang it,” Fletcher moaned. That was gonna cost him points.

Woolly chuckled. “Multicolored eyes aren’t completely uncommon. Here, let me show you how to do it convincingly…” Woolly engulfed himself in green flames and turned into the same colt that Fletcher had, but with a simple difference. “See?” He pointed to his face. “If you give yourself a patch of different colored fur around an eye, and then blend it in with more patches around the body, it looks like you have a differation of pigment,” he told him.

That’s why Fletcher loved Ba-tem Woolly. Instead of chewing him out for his mistakes, he’d always either turn them around into something useful, or give a friendly tip for avoiding them in the future.

Fletcher tilted his head in confusion, “What’s a figment?”

The stallions chuckled. “Pigment. It’s what gives living things their color,” Mizer said. “But remember, choose inconspicuous disguises. You don’t want to stand out or be memorable,” he advised.

“Right,” Fletcher said. He cast his spell again and corrected his mistake. “So can this one come with you?” he asked hopefully.

Woolly and Mizer looked at each other and both nodded towards the opposite direction. “Group huddle,” they said in unison. Then they made a big show of wandering off a few steps, throwing their forelegs over each other's shoulders and making whispering sounds. For extra effect, they would alternate looking up and peeking back at Fletcher. They had already long since reached a decision, but it was just too good an opportunity to pass up, making the poor kid wait in suspense. Deciding they’d tortured him for long enough, they broke their huddle with a ‘break!’, and returned. Fletcher hung in anticipation. If the foaling leaned any more forward, the poor kid would quickly be having his first makeout session... with the floor.

Woolly cleared his throat, “Ahem. Well Bo-nem, after much deliberation, These ones have determined that you are ready to attempt your first mission.”

Fletcher’s face lit up. “YES! Yes, yes, yes!” he cheered. The foaling dispelled his disguise and ran up to hug his Ba-tems. “Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!” he cried. He gave them a large burst of love, which they happily accepted and returned as they laughed at his jubilation.

Mizer threw a hoof in the air. “This one calls stallion!” he called.

“What?! No way, you always get stallion!” Woolly yelled indignantly.

Mizer laughed. “Exactly. That’s because This one calls it. Gotta be quicker next time~” he teased.

Woolly gave him a playful shove. “This one will quicker your next time!”

Mizer and Fletcher gave him a funny look. “Haha, what?” Mizer asked.

“Don’t ask questions you fool, just move out!” Woolly said theatrically as he turned and started walking. “Come on, Kiddo!”

Mizer chuckled again and turned to Fletcher. “Ba-tem Woolly’s not very good at comebacks, so he settles for confounding your logic with rubbish,” he said as they shared a snicker.

“This one heard that!” Wooly called from up ahead.

“Well of course you did, you Dippy! This one wasn’t whispering,” Mizer teased. He winked at Fletcher, who was caught in a giggle fit.

Fletcher rode on Woolly’s back while they flew to their target destination. He could hardly contain his excitement! While it wasn’t his first time venturing into pony country, this would be the first time he got to do more than just intel and reconnaissance. He was dying to test out his acting skills! Looking the part was only half the battle. You had to be able to act convincingly, or the ponies would find you out and throw stones at you, or tie you up and throw you in the river, or toss you in a vat and boil you into rainbows! Fletcher shuddered. He heard a story about when that happened once to an old changeling called Crazy Flick. Rainbows were pretty, but Fletcher definitely didn’t want to be one.

They changed into temporary disguises as they crossed the border into Equestria. Fletcher chose a little blue colt, saving his other disguise for later. Mizer chose a colt as well this time, albeit a slightly older one that would have no problem flying on his own and Woolly choose a young stallion that could easily pass for their older brother. Fletcher turned to Mizer.
“Does everything look ok, Ba-tem?” he asked. He didn’t want another screw up like before.

“Lookin’ good, Kiddo!” he answered.

Fletcher smiled and snuggled his head into Woolly’s withers for the rest of the trip. Ponies were mean, but there was just something about the feeling of fur rubbing against his cheeks, it was just so...soft.

After two hours of flying they were approaching a town called Trotter Dale. Woolly and Mizer had been monitoring a couple there over the last two weeks. Tonight they were going in.

They landed in a park where they could see the house they were targeting. Fletcher hopped down from Wolly’s back and run up to the fountain with Mizer and pretended to play in the water while Woolly, like a young bachelor would, pretended to hit on the mares in the park.

As they feigned interest in the water jets, taking turns covering them with their hooves and giggling, Mizer gave Fletcher the low down on the mission.

“Ok Fletcher, just across the street at 2 o’ clock, you see the house with the two mares talking out front?” Mizer muttered under his breath.

Fletcher followed the protocols he was taught for subtle surveillance, and continued to play a few moments before looking where Mizer mentioned. For good measure, once he made a note of the house, he continued his sweeping glance before returning to his activity.

“Affirmative,” he muttered.

“Nice execution, Kid,” Mizer muttered, making the foaling smile. Then he worked his way around the water jet to face Fletcher. It was a small thing that didn’t look like much of anything to the ponies, but Fletcher recognized that even this was a tactical move. Number one, it gave them a combined view of virtually 360 degrees around them, so if anyone was watching the two of them more than they should be, it was them who’d be doing the monitoring. Number two, he put the water jet between them, which would help to mask their words from any of the closer ponies.

“That’s the house where the targets live,” he continued, “The blonde colored mare out front with the red mane is Cherry Pie. She’s just finishing her 3:00 weekly get together with her friend Lackadaisy. Her husband Gyroscope is an architect. He should be off work at 6:00 and home by around 6:20. Tonight, these ones will infiltrate and replace the targets after dark when they’ve gone to sleep. Once we’ve replaced them, our alibi for you will be that you are our nephew that came to stay with us while his parents renovate their house. The mission is for This one and Woolly to observe some the ponies and projects at Gyroscope’s office, but you don’t need to worry too much about that. What these ones will have you do, is go to the school here where the Mayor’s daughter attends, observe her, and then report your findings back to These ones. These ones aren’t trying to gather love on this mission, so don’t worry about trying to get any of the other foals to like you. This one expects this mission to run for approximately two weeks, possibly more. At that point, the targets will be brought out of stasis, the memories they missed will be transferred back to them, and these ones will be on our way. You got all that, Kid?”

“Affirmative,” Fletcher muttered.

“Any questions?” Mizer asked.

“No Sir!” he whispered.

“That’s my Bo-nem!” Mizer muttered with a wink.

Fletcher smiled. That was one of the reasons Fletcher loved Ba-tem Mizer. Even though saying ‘my’ would get him in trouble if the Queen heard him, he loved Fletcher and many of his other Bo-nems and Fa-nems enough, that he wasn’t afraid to express his pride in them.

“Alright,” he continued, “the first objective is securing our mode of entry. Are you familiar with tactic 583?”

Fletcher nodded.

“Good,” he said. He then proceeded to give him some more specific directions.

“Ok, the mission is hereby dubbed, ‘Operation Snowy Owl.’ Commence objective one: Snowy Owl Primo,” he ordered.

Fletcher played for a few more minutes until he felt he had waited enough. Then he ran over to his ‘older brother’ and tapped his leg.

“Big bro, I need to go to the bathroom,” he said as he pretended to do the potty dance.

The mares Woolly was talking with squealed in adoration.

“Awwww, he’s soooo cute! Is this your little brother?” they asked him.

Woolly chuckled, “Haha yeah, this is my youngest little bro, Blitzer.” He pretended to look around for a solution. “Um… come on buddy, let’s go ask the ponies in one of these houses if you can use their bathroom. Climb up!”

Fletcher climbed up on Woolly’s back as he winked at the mares. “Hold that thought, Ladies, The Tank will be back momentarily,” he said with a cheeky tone and took off.

Fletcher didn’t need to see their eye rolls to know Woolly wasn’t getting any love from the mares. It wasn’t surprising since Woolly was acting like one of those clueless show pony stallions, but Fletcher was confused that Woolly would act that way if he was really trying to gather love. He knew his Ba-tem had way better ways to go about it.

He didn’t bother thinking too hard on it though. Woolly knew much more about gathering love than he did, so he was sure if he really wanted any he could get it.

“Mizer fill you in on the mission details, Kiddo?” Woolly muttered to him as he ran.

“Yep, This one’s all set,” he muttered back.

“Good. This one will getcha in and then chat up the target while you do your thing,” Woolly said as they approached the door steps.

“Affirmative,” Fletcher whispered as he jumped down and they climbed the steps together. Woolly knocked on the door, and was soon answered by the mare that Mizer identified as Cherry Pie.

“Hello?”

“Pardon us, Miss, but would you mind if my little brother used your bathroom?” Woolly asked.

“Oh not at all, Dearie!” she said as she opened the door wider and stood aside. “It’s just down the hall to left and it’s your third door on the right, Darling. Go right on ahead,” she said sweetly.

“Thank you, Miss!” Fletcher replied. You can’t fool me with your sweetness, Lady. I know you’d boil me into Rainbows if you knew what I was and you had your way! He scuttled inside, keeping up his potty dance act, and left her to be distracted by Woolly.

Now that he was inside, his objective was to ensure an entryway would be unlocked tonight. He didn’t bother with the back door. It was too obvious and would simply be relocked at night. No. He would find an appropriate window to unlock. Not to open it mind you, as an opened window drew attention to itself, but an unlocked window, if not unlocked by the inhabitants, would go as unnoticed as a speck of dust in a lint ball. After all, why would a foal unlock a window if they were just there to use the bathroom?

Fletcher counted his steps as he navigated his way to the bathroom, committing the house’s layout to memory as much as he could. Finding the room in question, he looked inside. There was a window on the far wall, but it was no good. She already had it open, which meant she’d be closing it before she went to bed. He turned away from the bathroom and looked in some of the other rooms in the hall. He found what he was looking for in the guest room, a moderately sized window that was currently closed. Careful not to make any noise he undid the window’s lock and make a quick mental note of where it was in relation to the outside of the house. Then he returned to the bathroom and quietly closed the door. He’d been keeping track of his elapsed time in his head, and so far he was at 81 seconds and counting. Mizer told him he shouldn’t go further than three minutes. That still left him with lots of time. Should he look to see where the master bedroom was so he could report its location to his Ba-tems? Knowing exactly where the target room is would be a huge help to them tonight since they wouldn’t have to risk making unnecessary noise checking rooms and opening doors, but straying that far from the path to the bathroom was risky. If Cherry Pie came back in the main house for any reason, it would be pretty hard for him to say he got lost… on the second floor.

91 seconds.

He had to make a decision. Woolly had her distracted, but in the off chance she did catch him returning down the stairs or something, he wasn’t sure what he would say...

94 seconds.

… but he really wanted to impress his Ba-tems... So on the way up he noticed they had some pretty nice pictures on the stairs...

Fletcher nudged open the first door he came across and looked inside. Nope, looks like an office.

108 seconds.

He peeked inside the next door. Laundry room. Next. Another bathroom. Next. A bedroom? Fletcher creeped in a little more. The bed was pretty big, but there was nothing on the dresser, no jewellery box, no pictures, nothing. Guestroom.

122 seconds.

Thankfully, there was only one more door at the far end of the hall on the left. It was obvious, but Fletcher double checked. Yep, Master bedroom located!

129 seconds.

Fletcher headed back for the stairs, but to his horror he heard Cherry Pie’s voice from the kitchen...which was right at the base of the stairs.
“...sorry Dearie, I just have to take this bread out of the oven,” she called out to Woolly. “You can come in while you wait if you want to.”

Fletcher heard Woolly’s borrowed voice reply, “Thank you Miss.” He sounded nervous. Most likely because he was worried about Fletcher.

136 seconds.

Fletcher peeked around the corner at the top of the stairs. He could see both Cherry Pie in the kitchen and Woolly sitting on the couch in the living room. Thankfully Cherry Pie had her back to him, so he waved to get Woolly’s attention.

When he saw him, Woolly’s eyes went wide and desperately shot a glance at Cherry Pie to see where she was looking. The coast clear, Woolly turned back to his Bo-nem and began to silently signal him with his hooves.

What are you doing up there!?

Fletcher replied with his own signals.

Side objective. Run distraction so This one can get back to the bathroom.

Affirmative.

“That smells delicious, Miss… I didn’t quite get your name,” Woolly said.

“Cherry Pie,” she replied, “and thank you very much, Dearie.”

“Do you have a special talent in baking perhaps?” he asked as he signaled Fletcher to move.

155 seconds.

Fletcher padded down the stairs in silence and quickly backed into the first hallway, keeping an eye on Cherry Pie as she and Woolly continued their idle chit-chat. He finally made it back to the bathroom and silently closed the door with 15 seconds to spare. Fletcher decided not to use them and went straight to flush the toilet, then turned on the tap. He waited a couple seconds and turned it off again, then faked the motions of drying his hooves with an air towel, and made his exit.

“Thank you, Miss,” he said to Cherry Pie as he joined Woolly in the living room.

She turned from her conversation with Woolly and smiled at him. “It’s no problem at all, Dearie,” she replied as she walked them to the door. “You two go have a good afternoon, ok?”

“Ok!” Fletcher beamed. I see right through you, Missy!

He returned to his spot up on Woolly’s back, who gave his thanks to the mare and turned back for the park.

“Alright Kiddo, lets have your first Mission Report,” Woolly ordered.

“Mission Accomplished, Ba-tem” Fletcher said happily.

“Nice work.”

The sun began to set, and the other ponies in the park began to take their leave. Fletcher and his Ba-tems pretended to play tag and hide ‘n’ seek until after dark, no one asking questions since they were being ‘supervised’ by Woolly.

Fletcher didn’t have to pretend very much. He was having a blast! He loved playing games with his Ba-tems, and cherished every chance he got to spend with them. The street lamps came on and it would be time to move out in a few hours, but this was their cue to settle down and disappear into the night, to bide their time until it was time to strike. They crossed the street and hide themselves in the darkness of an alleyway, 5 houses down from the target. Fletcher really wanted to change back into his original form so he could see, but it wasn’t time yet. He had to wait till just before they entered the house, otherwise there was still a chance of being seen. Thankfully though, he could ‘see’ where Woolly and Mizer were. Or rather, he could feel where they were by their emotional presence. They were… not so much excited as… in a state of anticipation. Fletcher on the other hoof, was definitely excited and he was certain they knew it.

They waited there in silence until they heard the town clock off in the distance strike one in the morning. Snowy Owl Secondo was now underway. They took the back alley behind the houses so they could stay out of the street lights’ glow.

“Which side is the entry point on, Bo-nem?” Mizer whispered as they came to the target house’s backyard.

“South. First floor, center window,” Fletcher answered.

“What was that side mission you were on, Kiddo?” Woolly asked.

Fletcher smiled. “This one got the exact location of the targets’ bedroom so Ba-tem Mizer and Ba-tem Woolly don’t have to make extra noise looking for it,” he said happily. He was quite proud of himself for his forethought and hoped they would be too.

Mizer and Woolly looked at each other with surprise.

“That’s… very smart, Bo-nem, well done. That will be very helpful,” Mizer said as they ruffled his mane.

Fletcher was on cloud nine. He felt their pride in him and their love in the form of appreciation. They were impressed. Mission accomplished, Fletcher thought with giddiness.

They walked along the side of the house and with the coast clear, Mizer gave the go ahead to change back to original form so they could finally see what they were doing. Woolly opened the window Fletcher unlocked and climbed in. Once he was inside, Mizer passed Fletcher to him directly, so as to make as little noise as possible. Truth be told, hovering in would have been easier. Changeling wings were among the most versatile in the world, allowing for pin-point hovering and even backwards flying, but they were very noisy. Not appropriate for stealth missions. Finally, Mizer climbed in and quietly closed the window behind him.

Woolly signaled to Fletcher. Alright, where are the targets?

Upstairs, end of the hall, last door on the left. He answered.

Mizer nodded. Ok, These ones will take it from here, Bo-nem. You stay here so noise is reduced as much as possible.

Fletcher nodded. A pony foal might have taken that comment personally, thinking the adults were insinuating that they were clumsy and can’t move quietly. Changeling foalings knew better. They were taught early on, that when trying to be stealthy, the less you had in numbers, the better.

So Fletcher sat down on the kitchen floor and waited as his Ba-tems climbed the stairs. He sat in silence, listening intently for any sound. He supposed it was a good thing he couldn’t hear anything. Ba-tem Mizer and Ba-tem Woolly were good at stealth.

Based on where he sensed their presence, he guessed that they were at the bedroom door. He could tell they were concentrating hard, probably trying to open the door silently. After a moment, Fletcher felt a trickle of relief from them and assumed they must have been successful. Then their concentration intensified as he felt them very slowly move into the room and make their way to either side of what Fletcher assumed was the bed. He felt them concentrating magic, building it up... and then finally releasing it. There was a pause… then came their full relief. They did it!

Fletcher breathed a sigh of relief and smiled. He sent them the feeling of happiness as a form of congratulations. He felt them smile back at him. Or rather, the emotional equivalent of smiling. He continued to wait there as ordered, while they were busy with, what he assumed, was the process of wrapping the targets in chrysalises. Sure enough, after several minutes, Mizer and Woolly came downstairs with two black and green chrysali floating overhead.

Fletcher signaled to Woolly. Is it ok to speak now?

“Haha, all clear Kiddo,” he chuckled.

They set the chrysali against the wall for a moment. Fletcher ran up to one of them and leaned up against it to get a better look. He’d never seen a chrysalis with a real target in it before. He looked in and recognised Cherry Pie sleeping peacefully inside. He tapped on the membrane and waved his hoof in front of her face.

“Will they wake up if there’s noise or anything?” he asked.

“Nope,” Woolly answered, “The stasis spell These ones put on them will keep them knocked out until it’s released. They’ll wake up about two weeks from now, not having missed a thing, and feeling like they just had the best night’s sleep of their lives.”

Fletcher shook his head. And everyone calls us parasites.

Mizer opened up the basement door and picked Gyroscope up again. He carried the pony down the stairs followed by Woolly and they set them in the corner, covered with boxes and things. Then they returned upstairs and closed the door.

“Well, mission accomplished,” Mizer said. “Objective Secondo is a success. These ones shall talk more about the next objectives in the morning but for now, let’s get some sleep.”

Fletcher and Woolly nodded and followed him upstairs to the master bedroom, and they all piled on the bed together. They didn’t have the numbers for a cozy cluster like they would sleep with back home in the hive, but they had enough to generate a decent amount of body heat, and share a healthy flow of emotions. Fletcher fell asleep, comfortably snuggled in between his Ba-tems, for whom he felt so much love.

Fletcher was roused from his sleep as Mizer got up and out of the bed.

“Mmmm, Ba-tem?” he groaned.

“Morning, Bo-nem. It’s time to get up and go over the cover story before Gyroscope has to get to work, and you have to begin your first observation mission at the school,” he said with a wink.

Fletcher smiled. He was excited. His Ba-tems had enough faith in him to pull his mission off solo… which now that he thought about it, kinda made him nervous. Woolly seemed to pick up on this, because he ruffled his mane and said,

“Don’t worry about it, Kiddo. You’ll be fine. All you have to do is stay in character, and watch how the Mayor’s daughter behaves. You don’t even have to talk to anyone aside from answering direct questions. You can just play shy, since your character doesn’t know anyone. Then later tonight, you’ll report to These ones what happened. Sound good?”

Fletcher nodded. He could do that.

“Good,” Mizer said as he changed into his Gyroscope disguise. “Now lets see your disguise.”

Fletcher concentrated and cast his transformation spell, turning him into the brown pegasus he tried earlier, minus the mixed up eyes. He looked himself over. Everything seemed ok, but he looked to Mizer for confirmation.

“Looks good. What’s your name?” he asked.

Fletcher already had one picked out. “Roasted Chestnut!” he beamed.

Mizer smiled. “Nice one. What do you call your Aunt and Uncle?”

“Hmm. Auntie Pie and Uncle Gyro,” he answered.

“Good, and what are your parent’s names?” Mizer continued.

Fletcher raised his eyebrow. “Uh… Mom and Dad? Duh,” he said.

Woolly howled with laughter. “HaHaHa! Way to stay in character, Kiddo!”

Mizer blushed as the others had a laugh at his expense. “Alright, Chuckles, how about this?”

They continued to test him and to unify their cover story as they made their way down stairs, until they had everything set in place. They finished just before Mizer had to leave for work, but before he left they gathered together for a traditional farewell ritual.

Changelings greeted each other as well as sent each other off with a ritual called Lomenvai, or the Touch of Hearts and Minds. It was a tender and intimate bonding exercise that involved touching their foreheads together, creating a space where they could share the smallest of whispers, or simply bask in each other’s presence. Mizer touched foreheads with Fletcher first, gently holding the back of his head. They circulated love between each other and whispered their well wishes for success and safety.

“Lo Men Vai,” they said in unison, and then broke contact.

Fletcher smiled as he watched him walk over to Woolly next. He navigated around Woolly’s horn and touched his forehead as they took each other’s heads in their hooves.

“Go with wisdom and safety, My Brother,” Woolly whispered.

“Aie,” Mizer responded. “Don’t burn the house down while I’m gone.”

“Haha, I make no promises,” Woolly chuckled.

“Lo Men Vai,” they said. Then Mizer headed out the front door.

Woolly turned into Cherry Pie and turned to Fletcher.

“Well, I’d best get you to school then, huh Dearie?” he said in the mare’s sweet voice.

“Ok, Auntie,” he replied with a smile.

Cherry Pie dropped Chestnut off outside the schoolyard.

“Ok, Sweetie, I’ll see you after school,” she said.

“Bye Auntie Pie,” he replied.

Fletcher wandered into the schoolyard and saw all the other foals playing. Despite himself, he still felt a little nervous. He was secretly hoping there would be another changeling in disguise among them, but he couldn’t feel any. He had to remind himself that the goal wasn’t to gather love on this mission, so like Mizer said, it didn’t matter if the other foals liked him or not. Though he was looking forward to seeing what love from a pony ‘tasted’ like one day.

Fletcher quietly sat in the shade of a big tree and simply watched the others run around and play on the jungle gym, until a little pink filly with a red mane ‘n’ tail walked up to him.

“Hi,” she said. “Are you a new pony?”

Fletcher nodded.
She smiled and offered her hoof. “My name’s Sugar Heart, what’s your name?”

Fletcher tentatively took her hoof and shook. “Roasted Chestnut,” he answered.

“It’s nice to meet you!” she beamed.

That’s when he felt it. His first taste of pony love. Not the kind you’d get from a smile, or when teenaged mares think you’re cuter than a bunny rabbit. The kind of love with genuine intent behind it. The kind that says ‘I want to get to know you.’ He could feel it… and goodNIGHT, was it tasty!

Fletcher was suddenly aware of a pink hoof waving in front of his eyes.

“Huh? What?” he asked as he rose out of his stupor.

“Are you ok?” she asked. She had a concerned look on her face.

Fletcher shook his head. “Y-yeah, I’m fine. It’s nice to meet you too, Sugar Heart,” he said with a smile.

She looked relieved. “You can call me Sugar if you want. Is it ok if I call you Chestnut?” she asked.

Fletcher nodded. That’s when the school bell rang. The filly grabbed Fletcher’s hoof and pulled him toward the school.

“Come on, it’s time for class,”she said. “I’ll introduce you to Miss RoseBud.”

“Ok class, everypony take your seats, we’ll be starting now.”

A green unicorn mare with a rosy pink mane ‘n’ tail stood up at the front of the class tapping her pointer stick on the board. The fillies and colts did as they were told and fell silent.

“We have a new student that will be joining us for a little while, and I’d like you all to be extra kind and make him feel welcome. Come on in, Dear,” she called out the door.

Fletcher hesitantly stepped into the classroom and crawled toward the teachers side. He never thought he’d be put in the center of attention right off the bat like this. It was nerveracking having all those eyes on him, especially since they weren’t changeling eyes.

Then he saw Sugar Heart in the crowd. Her smile made him feel much more at ease and confident. When he finally made it beside the teacher she put a hoof around him.

“Tell everyone your name, Dear,” she said.

Fletcher gave her a glance, then turned back to the class.

“Um…Hi everypony,” he started. Then he focused on Sugar. “I’m Roasted Chestnut. You can just call me Chestnut if you want,” he said.

“And where are you from, Chestnut?” the teacher asked.

“Fillyshire.”

“How nice. Fillyshire is a pretty small town, so not very many of us know about it. Would you tell us where it is?”

Fletcher could have told them exactly where it was down to the mile, but he was in character. He had to hold back a bit.

“Um… which way is East?” he asked her.

“Well North is that way so East would be--” she began to point but she didn’t get to finish before Fletcher turned to the class and said,

“It’s that way!” he said with a big goofy grin, pointing there first.

The class broke into giggles, including the teacher.

“And what brings you here with us, Chestnut?” she asked.

“I’m staying with my Auntie Pie and Uncle Gyro while Mommy and Daddy fix the house,” Fletcher answered.

“Well, we’re happy to have you, Chestnut. Welcome. Go ahead and choose a seat,” she told him.

Fletcher did as instructed and to his good fortune, found an empty desk just behind Sugar. But just as he sat down, he heard snickering from somewhere behind him. He turned around to see who it was, but it stopped. There were still a few rows of ponies behind him so he couldn’t quite tell who it was. When he returned to face the front, the snickering started up again. Fletcher shrank into his desk. They were laughing at him. Did he say something wrong? Wait. Did… did one of them just call him a ‘blank flank’?

As soon as the bell rang for recess Fletcher was the first one to run out of the room. After two hours of listening to the sneers and snickers behind him, he just couldn’t take it anymore. Ponies are mean. He ran as fast as he could back to his little tree hoping to find rest. He figured his tree was far enough out of the way of the field and the playground, that the other ponies would just play, and leave him alone. What’s a ‘blank flank’ anyway?

Unfortunately he was wrong, and he soon heard snide giggling. Somepony saw him hide behind the tree.

“Well looky here, guys, it’s the blank flank!” a filly said.

Fletcher looked up to find three of his classmates. The filly who spoke, a light grey filly with a pink and purple mane, was accompanied by a red filly and a big yellow colt that was almost twice as big as Fletcher.

“W-why do you keep calling me that?” Fletcher stammered. “What does that mean?”

His ears fell when they laughed at him.

“It means you don’t even have a cutie mark yet, Loser! The whole class has already gotten theirs,” she jeered.

My cutie mark? I thought most foals this age didn’t have them yet? He’d have to fix that for tomorrow, but there was nothing he could do about it now, which meant today was going to suck. All the disdain they were directing towards him was starting to making his tummy feel nauseous.

“Leave him alone, Cashmere!”

Fletcher looked up and saw Sugar Heart running up behind his verbal abusers. Did she say Cashmere? That’s the Mayor’s daughter…

“This is none of your business, Booger Heart,” Cashmere sneered back at her as she arrived.

“It is so my business! Chestnut is my friend, and just because he’s different from you doesn’t make him different!” Sugar argued.

Fletcher blinked. uhhh…

Cashmere and her friends burst out laughing. “Uh, yeah, it kind of does, Idiot!”

Sugar Heart stamped the ground in defiance. “No, it doesn’t. Everypony’s different. Life would be pointless if they weren’t. The very fact that he is different means he’s no different than anypony else, and you have no right to be mean to him for it!”

Fletcher was stunned. Did… did she really mean that?

“Besides,” she continued, “I’d hate to see him be just like you, the world has enough jerks already!”

“Agh!” Cashmere shrieked.

That made Lug Nut angry. He stomped up to Sugar Heart and raised his fore leg.

“Why you little--”

“Leave her alone!” Fletcher yelled as he ran out in front of her, but Lug Nut only smirked. “Heh, I wanted to beat your blank flank anyway,” he said as he threw a punch.

The moment he saw the wind up, Fletcher’s training kicked in and told him to block and counter. But as he raised his hooves, he remembered the rules.

Foalings should never use combat techniques, unless they get caught.

Well, he wasn’t caught yet, but showing that he knew more than his character would at this age, would be a rather quick way to rectify that. In the brief second he restrained himself, a big yellow hoof connected with his face and knocked him over to the side. Fletcher heard Sugar gasp, followed by hoofsteps in the opposite direction. She’s running away... That makes sense I guess. That was kind of the point of jumping in to save her.

He touched his throbbing muzzle. Sure enough, when he checked his hoof there was blood. Still, he would hold them off. Fletcher got up on his wobbling hooves, and glared daggers at them, but that only made them laugh.

“What? You want more?” Lug Nut chuckled. Then he hit him again, this time harder, and once again poor Fletcher was down on the ground. Lug Nut proceeded to kick him while he was down, literally, and all Fletcher could do was curl up and cover his face.Just when the colt was winding up for another kick, his body was suddenly paralyzed by magic.

“LUG NUT!” Rosebud yelled. The teacher came running from the school building, followed by Sugar Heart.

Fletcher wearily looked up and saw the two of them coming. So that’s it, she was getting help. He dropped his head back to the ground and breathed a sigh of relief.

“You’re in BIG trouble little stallion!” she barked at Lug Nut. “As are you two!” she said, pointing to Cashmere and Velvet. “All of you go inside and sit at your desks until I get there,” she said as she began to check Chestnut over. “You three will be suspended if not expelled for this behavior,” she added.

Cashmere shrieked, “WHAT?! You can’t suspend me! Do you have any idea who my father is?!”

Rosebud’s ears perked up, which made Fletcher’s whole body go tense. He felt her emotions go from appalled and upset, to down right livid.

With a deceivingly calm look on her face, Rosebud slowly turned and approached the filly. Cashmere shrunk back as her teacher leaned within inches of her face, and spoke with a cold intensity.

“Now you listen to me, Princess. You’re going to get that little idea that you’re somehow better than everypony else out of your head real fast. Your father was voted into the position he has because he is a good stallion that has done a lot of good things, but more importantly because ponies like him. Now you on the other hoof are about to learn very quickly that if you continue to treat ponies like you’re better than them, you will find yourself in a hole, where nopony likes you. Nopony likes a filly who acts like a brat riding around on her fathers wings, and does whatever she pleases. Have I made myself clear?”

Cashmere could only nod.

“Good. Now get inside.”

She didn’t need to tell her twice. That filly booked it into the school building like she was being chased by a wild animal.

Rosebud turned back to Chestnut and Sugar who was stroking his mane.

“Miss Rosebud, he’s bleeding,” Sugar reported.

“We’ll take him to the staff room. There’s a first aid kit.” she said. She tapped Chestnut’s shoulder. “Are you ok to climb up on my back, Sweetie?”

Fletcher’s head rolled around in a haze. He could feel concern coming from both of them.

“B-but I’ll get blood on you,” he objected groggily.

“Oh Chestnut Dear, don’t worry about that. That’s the least of my worries. It’ll wash out,” she said as she knelt down beside him. “Help him up please, Sugar.”

Sugar nodded and eagerly helped Chestnut get up on Rosebud’s back. As the mare stood up and started towards the school, Fletcher rested his head on her withers, snuggling his cheek into her fur. Maybe not all ponies are mean.

Fletcher was laying on his side in a bed in the staffroom, which was really a cross between a staff room and a nurses office. Sugar sat in a chair across from him, idly swinging her legs as they dangled off the chair. Rosebud had finished bandaging him up and his nose had stopped bleeding, so she was putting things away. She sighed.

“Well, I guess I’d better go have a talk with those three. Stay in bed and try to rest, Chestnut. Sugar, you can go back outside if you want, it’s up to you,” she said as she approached the doorway.

“Thanks Miss Rosebud, but I think I’ll stay with Chestnut and keep him company,” Sugar replied.

Rosebud smirked to herself as she left.

Sugar and Chestnut sat in silence for a while, until Sugar piped up.

“Thank you for saving me, Chestnut,” she said.

Fletcher gave her a confused look. “What do you mean? You saved me first,” he said.

She shook her head. “I stood up for you when they were just saying mean things, you defended me when they actually started throwing punches...” she looked away, “I’m not sure if I could have done the same,” she muttered.

Fletcher looked down. “Yeah well, sometimes the words hurt more than the punches...” he said as he rubbed his stomach. It was feeling alot better now after Miss Rosebud and Sugar Heart took care of him. “...so...thank you.”

She tilted her head in confusion, but there wasn’t much else to say. “You’re welcome?”

Fletcher looked back up at her. “Did you really mean what you said?”

“When I said what?” she asked.

“That being different doesn’t matter,” he said.

“Of course,” she beamed. “Don’t worry about the things they said, you’ll get your cutie mark some day soon.”

“Ok… but what if I was really different? Like a monster or something, with fangs and sharp claws, or dragon wings, or something like that. Would you still want to be my friend then?” he asked.

She tapped her chin and thought for a moment. “Hmmm, I guess it depends. Would you still be you, or would you be the mean kind of monster that kidnaps ponies, and eats baby bunnies?”

Fletcher’s breath caught in his throat. Monster that kidnaps ponies?! A horrifying thought came to him. Are...are we the real monsters? He was brought out of his thoughts when he realized she was still talking.

“...but I think you would make a cute monster, like a teeny tiny manticore!”

“Heh heh, yeah,” he chuckled nervously.

“But as long as you were still nice, then no, it wouldn’t matter to me if you were different. I would still be your friend,” she said resolutely.

Fletcher blinked. Really? He silently wondered what would happen if he showed himself to her… He shook his head.

Never reveal yourself. Ponies are mean.

But... maybe not all of them?

“Hey,” Sugar said suddenly. “My mom said she would be making cookies today. Would you like to come over after school for some milk and cookies? She makes the best chocolate chip cookies.” she said excitedly.

Fletcher couldn’t help but smile. “I… I’d like that,” he said.

Yeah. Maybe not all of them.

After school was over, Chestnut went with Sugar Heart over to her house. She led him up the steps and opened the door.

“Mom, I’m home!” she called.

“Welcome home, Sugar Bear!” came the reply.

Fletcher was hit with a wave of delicious scent. Usually changelings only ate food to keep up appearances, but Fletcher had a feeling he was going to enjoy these... cookies.

“I brought a friend over for some milk and cookies, is that ok?” Sugar asked as they stepped inside and closed the door.

“Oh, of course, Sweetie. Who is it?” her mother asked as she came into view. She was a white pony with cream colored hair, and beautiful light pink eyes. She saw Chestnut and smiled. “Hello there, what’s your name, Dear?”

“Mom, this my friend Roasted Chestnut,” Sugar introduced, “Chestnut, this my mother, Cream Puff.”

Chestnut gave a tiny wave. “Hi, Miss Cream Puff,” he said quietly.

“You can just call me Cream.” She gasped suddenly when she saw the bandages around his belly and rear ankle. “What happened to you, Dear?!” she cried.

At her reaction, Chestnut sat down, self consciously trying to cover his wounds. “Um… it’s nothing--”

“It was those bullies again, Mom,” Sugar cut in. “It’s not enough they have to go around bothering everypony else, they had to go and tease the new kid just because he doesn’t have his cutie mark yet. Then when I came to tell them to leave him alone, Lug Nut tried to hit me, but Chestnut defended me and took the hit himself. Then Lug Nut kept beating him until I came back with Miss Rosebud. She was mad. Cashmere and Red Velvet got suspended for four days, and Lug Nut got expelled. He’s going to have to be home schooled now,” she said.

Cream listened to all this in stunned silence. She closed her eyes a moment. Then without saying a word, she picked Chestnut up and gently hugged him. Fletcher blinked. What is she doing?

“Thank you, Chestnut. Thank you so much for protecting my Sugar Bear…”

Was that a tear?

“...I’m so sorry you had to go through that. You’re a hero... we need more Stallions like you.” she said.

Hero?

“B-but he beat me up. I couldn’t even stop him. I wasn’t brave like a hero or anything,” Chestnut objected.

She held him out so she could look him in the eyes. “You protected somepony from a bully even though he was significantly bigger than you. That was brave, Dear,” she told him.

“Really?”

She smiled. “Yes. Come, let’s get you two some milk and cookies,” she said.

Chestnut and Sugar nodded as she put him down and led them to the kitchen.

...she’s nice too…

He was really starting to wonder if all ponies were as mean as his Ba-tems and Ma-tems said they were. Although something told him, if he suddenly changed in front of her, Miss Cream would lose her kind demeanour in a hurry...

“Miss Cream?” Chestnut began.

“Yes, Sweetie?” she asked.

“Sugar and I were talking about being different earlier. Would you care if somepony was really different? Like if they had claws, or fangs, or eyes in the back of their head or something?” he asked.

“You mean like a monster?” she asked as she brought out some plates and glasses.

“um… yeah…” he said as he circled his hoofs around each other.

“Well I suppose it would all come down to how they behaved, I guess. If they acted like a monster then sure, something would need to be done about them, but otherwise… there’s lots of other creatures in Equestria and the rest of the world. There’s no reason to be unkind to them just because they’re different. Ponies are different too,” she answered.

“Really? You wouldn’t be scared, or try to boil them into rainbows or something?” he asked.

Both Cream and Sugar gave him funny looks. They looked at each other, then burst out laughing.

“Where did you get an idea like that, Dear?” Cream laughed. “Rainbows aren’t made of monsters, they’re liquid light. They infuse water with sunlight using special prism crystals at the rainbow factory. There’s no monsters or animals involved, I assure you,” she giggled.

Sugar giggled with her. “Yeah, we learned about that in class a few weeks ago. Didn’t you guys cover that at your school?” Sugar asked.

“Um… must have been sick that day,” Chestnut muttered. So that story wasn’t true. Now that he thought about it though, it did sound like a bit of an exaggerated campfire story. The name Crazy Flick should have been his first clue.

“But to answer your question, Dear…”Cream continued, “no I would not be mean to somepony because they were different, unless of course they were mean to somepony else first. Here you go, you two,” she said as she slid the plates of cookies towards them.

“Thanks Mom!” Sugar beamed.

“Thank you, Miss Cream,” Chestnut added.

“You’re very welcome,” she said with a smile.

Fletcher walked up the front steps of his temporary home and walked in.

“I’m home Auntie Pie!” he called as he closed the door behind him. He didn’t call him Ba-tem just incase there was company or something.

Always stay in character. Even small mistakes like a slip in language could blow your cover and possibly the whole mission.

“Hi, Sweetie. How was your day at school?” came the reply from the kitchen.

“It was ok.” He noticed that Woolly didn’t take any chances either, as expected.

As Chestnut wandered into the kitchen to meet her, Cherry Pie turned from what she was doing and signed to him.

All clear.

Chestnut signed back.

All clear.

Then she took on a look of concern.

“Fletcher what happened to you?” she asked, pointing at the bandages.

He looked down sadly. “This one made an oversight with its disguise. It didn’t think every foal at school would have their cutie marks already. It figured it would stand out less if it was among the half that didn’t have cutie marks, but it turns out This one’s mistake only made it stand out more. This one got picked on by three of the other foals including the subject. The colt tried to hit a filly that came to help This one, but This one got in his way…”

“You didn’t use any combat techniques did you?” she asked.

Chestnut shook his head. “No Ba-tem, This one was a good foaling,” he assured.

“Oh Bo-nem…” she said as she picked him up and held him, “This one knows how hard that is. Well done... well done...” she cooed. “This one is proud of you.”

Chestnut hugged her back and took a moment to receive the love and comfort from his Ba-tem. It was hard to take those hits, knowing he could have easily defended himself. He could proudly tell his Ma-tems and Ba-tems back home how good his self control was.

“What happened after that?” Cherry Pie asked.

“The filly that tried to help This one got the teacher and she came out and stopped them. The teacher bandaged This one up and stopped its bleeding muzzle. Then she suspended the subject as well as the other filly for four days. The colt was expelled,” he reported. He looked up at Cherry Pie with a sorrowful expression. “This one is sorry, Ba-tem. Its first mission is compromised for a few days because of This one’s mistake,” he apologized.

Cherry Pie shook her head. “No Bo-nem, you didn’t make any mistakes. It’s highly unlikely that an entire class or even the majority of them would already have their marks at this age. Based on that information, you made the right educated guess, it just didn’t work out. This one is sorry it turned out that way.” She stroked his mane for a while, then set him down.

“What can you tell This one about the subject?” she said in a more authoritative voice.

Chestnut stood at attention and saluted. “Sir! Subject has light grey fur and a pink and purple mane and tail. Subject has the same height and weight as This one’s current disguise. Subject is rude, spoiled, self entitled, and mean as a rattle snake, Sir!” he finished.

Woolly had to force himself to fight back his laughter for the sake of professionalism. He loved foalings, they’re hilarious.

“Anything else to report?” Cherry asked.

Fletcher thought for a second. Should he tell him about Sugar Heart or Cream Puff? He wanted to raise the question about whether ponies were really as mean as everyone in the hive said they were, but Ba-tem Woolly and Ba-tem Mizer needed to focus a lot more on this mission than he did, so he decided maybe it was best not to mention unimportant things till the mission was over.

“Sir, no Sir!” he answered.

“Very good. Atease, Bo-nem. Job well done!” she said with a salute.

“Sir, thank you Sir!”

And so the next few days followed in similar fashion for Fletcher. He went to school in the morning, and played with Sugar Heart at every chance he got. Cashmere and Red velvet came back eventually, but they didn’t bother them at all. They mostly just kept to themselves, which gave Fletcher the chance to surveil her behaviour from a distance. Then at the end of the day, he would report the important things to his Ba-tems.

But one morning, as he waited for Sugar Heart to arrive, he was disappointed when she didn’t come. Puzzled, he went to her house after school to see where she was. He walked up the steps and knocked on the door. After a moment the door was answered by her mother, Cream.

“Hi, Miss Cream,” he said, “is Sugar home? Can she come out and play?”

“Oh hi, Chestnut. I’m really sorry, Dear, but Sugar Bear’s sick with a cold right now,” she said.

“Is she ok?” he asked.

She gave him a reassuring smile. “Oh she’ll be just fine in a few days. You’ll know when she’s feeling better when she comes back to school, Ok? Then you can come over and play after school,” she said.

“Ok. Please let her know I hope she feels better soon,” he said as he turned to leave.

“I will, Sweetie. Thanks for visiting.”

Fletcher was sitting in his desk just before the bell rang. He eagerly watched the door as fillies and colts slowly filed in, hoping each time that Sugar Heart would be the next one to walk in. He hadn’t seen her all week. Hopefully she was feeling better now, especially after the weekend.

To his disappointment, the bell rang and there was still no sign of her. Miss RoseBud walked in and put her things down at her desk. She wasn’t showing it much, but from what Fletcher could sense, she should have had a sad look on her face. Why do adults always do that?

Miss RoseBud stood up at the front of the class.

“Ok, everypony take your seats please,” she said.

The final stragglers that were still chatting away finally took their seats as the room went quiet.

“I have some bad news, everypony. As you all know, your classmate Sugar Heart has been home sick this week with a cold…” Miss RoseBud started.

Fletcher slid to the edge of his seat, listening intently.

“As it turns out, it’s a little bit worse than a cold, I’m afraid. The doctors aren’t entirely sure what’s wrong with her, but her body’s internal organs, those are things like your heart and your stomach, are starting to fail her. I don’t want you to be scared, but the doctors say it’s pretty serious, and she needs all the help she can get. So this morning we’re going to make a big get well card for-- Chestnut? Where are you going, Dear? Chestnut?!” she called after him, but he was already gone.

Fletcher booked it as fast as he could, making a beeline for Sugar’s house. His heart was working overtime, not only from the running but from the fear and dread pumping through his veins.

Cherry Pie was out shopping at a market stall, when she saw Fletcher run by on the other side of the street. Fletcher? What are you doing, Bo-nem? he wondered. Then he sensed his emotions. He’s terrified! Cherry quickly thanked the vendor and galloped after him. Woolly tried to reach ahead and calm the foaling down by sending him reassuring feelings, but his Bo-nem didn’t even seem to sense his presence. So he leapt up and took flight to close the distance, then dived in and scooped him up. “Chestnut, what’s the matter Darling? What’s got you so wound up?” he asked with Cherry Pie’s motherly voice.

Chestnut struggled in his aunt’s forelegs. “My friend is sick! I have to see her!” he cried.

Cherry blinked. “What friend?”

Chestnut stopped struggling and turned around in Cherry’s forelegs to face her. “My friend Sugar Heart,” he panted.

“How long has she been sick?”

“She’s been home from school all week,” he answered.

Cherry’s eyes widened. “Where does she live?”

Chestnut pointed in the direction he had been running in.

“Climb on,” she ordered.

Chestnut wrapped his forelegs around Cherry’s neck and shuffled around to his back, careful not to interfere with his wings as they kept them aloft. With Chestnut securely in place, Cherry took off towards the house.

It wasn’t long before Chestnut directed Cherry Pie to Sugar’s house, and he jumped down before she even fully landed. The foaling ran up the stairs and knocked on the door as Cherry joined him. It took a few minutes before the door was finally opened by Sugar’s mother, Cream. Her mane was unruly and her eyes were red. She had clearly been crying for a while. She wiped her eyes before she spoke, “Yes? *sniff* Can I help you?” she asked Cherry Pie.

Fletcher piped up. “Is Sugar ok?”

Sugar’s mother looked down at him. “Oh, Chestnut. Um... we’re not sure, Dear. She’s not doing too well,” she said.

“May we see her?” he asked.

“She’s not really awake right now, Sweetie--”

“Please?” he begged. “I’m really worried about her.”

Cream saw the tears forming in the corners of the little colt’s eyes, and couldn’t bring herself to deny him. She gave a weak smile. “Sure, Sweetie,” she almost whispered, “come on in.”

Cherry Pie touched the mare’s shoulder and gave her a sympathetic look. Cream held the offered hoof and gave an appreciative smile as she let them in and lead them to her daughter’s bedroom. In her room, there was a bunch of medical equipment surrounding the filly’s bed. A stallion who Fletcher assumed was Sugar’s father was talking to a doctor in the corner. Fletcher scurried to the bedside to get a good look at his friend.

The poor filly was completely pale and was wrapped up in several blankets, but the most disconcerting thing, was what appeared to be growths of blue crystal behind her ears, and down to her jaw line. Once they saw her, Fletcher felt Woolly’s emotions change from simple concern to a mixture of despair, anger, and regret. For Woolly to feel this way, Fletcher knew things were notok. That’s when panic truly began to set in.

“A-Auntie?” Chestnut’s voice was hoarse. “What’s the matter? What’s going on?”

Cherry Pie gestured out the door. “Come with me for a moment, Dearie,” she said softly.

Fletcher complied and followed her out of the room and into a bathroom she lead him to. Once Woolly closed the door behind them, he cast a sound proof barrier around them, and turned to the foaling with a disappointed look.

“Why didn’t you report this, Bo-nem?” he said in his normal voice.

Fletcher looked confused. Why was he mad at him? “This one doesn’t understand, Ba-tem,” he said.

“Why didn’t you report that you were receiving love from someone?” he asked sternly.

Now Fletcher was really confused. “Aren’t we supposed to gather love, Ba-tem?” he asked.

Woolly shook his head. “Not with an original disguise, Bo-nem, not for this long. That pony is going to die because you let her give you too much love and you didn’t tell These ones it was happening all this time.”

“W-what?” Fletcher squeaked.

“And now there’s nothing These ones can do because there is no real Roasted Chestnut to divert her love back to. This is why you need to report these things, Bo-nem!” Woolly lectured, as he paced back and forth.

Fletcher was mortified. It… It’s my fault? His breath became shallow as his heart rate quickened. “But… But This one has always loved you, Ba-tem, and This one has never gotten sick,” he whimpered.

“You are a changeling Bo-nem. Giving your love to another changeling won’t hurt you anymore than if a pony loves another pony,” he lectured.

“No one ever told This one receiving love would kill anyone!” he yelled as tears ran down his cheeks.

Woolly held his brow and pushed his hoof through Cherry Pie’s mane in exasperation. “That’s why we usually abort and return the impersonated targets before the subjects get sick, or before they get attached to an original disguise.”

Fletcher suddenly thought back to the mares in the park. That’s why Ba-tem acted that way. He was purposefully making sure they didn’t get attached to his original character.

“T-This one will just leave,” he begged. “She’ll be ok if This one isn’t here, right?” To his horror Woolly shook his head.

“Leaving won’t sever the stream of love. It doesn’t matter if you fly across the sea, it won’t change the emotions that subject feels towards Chestnut, and since there is no Chestnut, those feelings will go to you, regardless of how far away you are. Your only hope of saving that filly, is if you somehow manage to wake her up… and get her to hate you,” he said grimly.

Make her hate him? How could he? He was her friend. “B-but she’s This one’s friend! She’s nice to This one! She likes This one!”

“She likes Chestnut, Bo-nem,” he corrected.

Fletcher blinked. He just got hit square in the muzzle with a harsh dose of reality. That’s right... She didn’t like him at all. She’s a pony. She’d take one look at the real Fletcher and probably scream bloody murder...

Woolly put his hoof on the door knob. “This one will distract the adults in another room. You go do what you can,” he said quietly. He held the door open and gestured for Fletcher to go first. The poor foaling fought to make his legs move forward as the tears came back in streams.

When Chestnut entered Sugar’s bedroom the adults noticed his tear stained face and blank forward stare as he slowly approached the bedside. They looked at Cherry Pie.

“What did you say to him?” Cream whispered.

With a sullen tone Cherry said, “I need to tell you something Darling, perhaps you could all join me in the living room?”

They nodded and reverently followed her. She stepped into the middle of the seating area.

“You may wish to sit down for this,” she said quietly. The couple shared a nervous glance, but did as instructed.

“I’ve seen this before in Manehatten,” Woolly lied. “It’s a disease called Sapherous and unfortunately there’s no cure… I’m so sorry to have to tell you this, but... there’s about a 96 percent chance… she won’t make it.”

Fletcher leaned up on the side of Sugar’s bed. He bit his lip as he watched her lay there. Why didn’t I tell them? He slowly reached out a hoof to touch her shoulder. She was ice cold. He squeezed his eyes shut as he fought back the overwhelming feeling of guilt, and gently started to shake her.

“Sugar? Sugar? Please wake up. Sugar?” he pleaded. After a moment he heard a soft moan come from her lips. “Sugar?”

Her eyes flickered. “Mmmm, Chestnut? What are you doing here?” she mumbled.

“Sugar listen to me,” he sniffed. “I… I need you to hate me,” he said. He honestly didn’t know how else to do it. No one ever taught him how to be hated, only how to be likeable. It was moments like this that reminded him that he was still just a naive little foaling.

Sugar started to laugh but was interrupted by a fit of coughing. “You’re my friend, Chestnut. I could never… hate… y~” she muttered. She was drifting in and out of consciousness. He could feel the love he’d been getting all this time, gradually getting weaker.

“Sugar you don’t understand! I’m the reason you’re sick! I’m the reason you’re… you’re…” He couldn’t bring himself to say the word. “Sugar you have to hate me, or else you won’t get better. Please Sugar.”

His words were lost on her until she drifted back into consciousness again. She gestured a hoof towards herself. “Come closer,” she whispered.

Fletcher leaned forward with his ear towards her so he could hear her better. His eyes widened when he felt something cool and wet. She licked his cheek. He looked down at her in shock.

She stared back at him with sleepy eyes. “I really like you... Chestn~” she trailed off and her eyes slid closed. Fletcher blinked. No. He felt the love taper off... till it finally extinguished like a candle. No.

“S-Sugar?”

He couldn’t feel anything from her, and the machines by her bed started to ring a long, harsh tone. No, please no!

“Sugar wake up!” he pleaded, “Sugar?” He shook her shoulders, trying to rouse her. Then the adults ran in, responding to the sound of the machines.

“Sugar please. Sugar please don’t go…” he whimpered, tears flowing full force. Cherry Pie’s foreleg wrapped around his belly and pulled him away, as Sugar Heart’s parents ran to the bed and pulled their lifeless daughter into their tearful embrace.

“I’m so sorry…” Cherry said to them as she dragged Chestnut out of the room.

“No! No! Sugar wake up!” Fletcher cried deliriously as he struggled in Woolly’s gasp. Woolly had to pry the poor colt’s hooves off the front door’s frame as they left the house.

Fletcher screamed in delirium all the way home. Woolly slammed the door shut, threw his back against it, and slid down until he was sitting on the floor with a weeping foaling in his lap.

“Why Ba-tem?! Why her?! She didn’t do anything wrong!” he sobbed.

“Shhhh, This one knows, Bo-nem... It knows,” his Ba-tem whispered, stroking the foaling’s head.

“She wouldn’t hurt anyone! Even if she wanted to!” Fletcher whimpered as he fell into long bout of heart wrenched sobbing.

Woolly was dying on the inside. It hurt to see his Bo-nem like this, but he knew there was nothing he could do, except hold him tight, and sing him a lullaby.

Fletcher squeezed Woolly’s barrel, and cried well into the afternoon. He didn’t care what anyone back at the hive said or did, he would never take love from a non-changeling ever again. He didn't need to wonder anymore... he was the monster here.

Never again.

Author's Note

Anybody else need a tissue?

Hey, Doctor Dizzy. Whatcha doing?

Oh, hey Sugar. Nothing Sweetie, I'm just wrapping things up on chapter 5 for everybody.

That's the one I was in, right?

Yep.

Did I do a good job?

You were absolutely phenomenal, Sweetie.

Are...are you crying?

Sniff* No, no, not at all. It's just that your performance was very moving. You did a very good job.

Don't cry Doctor! It's just a story! *hug* I'm ok, honest!

Haha, I know Sweetie. Thank you. You give very nice hugs, by the way.

Thanks!

Next chapter in the flash back will be a little more action oriented. I have no idea how long it will take because, like this chapter, I know what's going to happen but I don't have any of it written at this point.

Thank you all so much for your comments and the support you've given.

And as always, if you like it be sure to show it with a like and a fav, and please share your comments, but be good. This story isn't rated everyone, but still ;)

Cheers!

"MA-TEM!"

Chapter 6: Defiance (Part1)

Hey everyone. So I'm really sorry it's been taking me so long to finish this chapter. The problem is I wanted to have three major events from Fletcher's life in the Flash back arc and I wanted each event to stand as one chapter. This one is going to be pretty big, and because it's so big it's been taking me a long time to write it and also been giving me a lot of writer's block. It doesn't help that I'm busy with other things too. To be honest, it's been killing me to not be able to get something to you guys for so long, so I decided to cut it up and at least give you this part. Now... I know everyone is eagerly waiting to get back to Fletcher and the cute little unnamed sandy filly. I promise we'll get there, but these arc chapters are important so please bear with me. Anyways here we go, Part One of chapter six. I hope you enjoy :)

“Commander Fletcher Sir, her Majesty has requested your presence,” came a frantic voice.

Fletcher looked up at the changeling standing in the entryway to his quarters.

“Thank you, Kelt. Tell her Majesty that This one will be there swiftly,” he replied.

“Sir!” the changeling said with a firm salute, then he ran off towards the throne room.

Fletcher turned to his armor cabinet and began to dress himself. Ever since the trauma of his first and only mission, Fletcher had sworn off gathering love. Instead he dedicated himself to studying combat, and defending the hive. He didn’t want to lose anyone else. Never again.

Since he specialized, and never went on any gathering missions, Fletcher rose in military rank to Elite Guard by the time he was a stallion, and eventually became one of the leading authorities on military defence manoeuvres.

Fletcher slipped on his dark blue helmet and sighed. If the Queen was summoning him while he was off duty, it was likely that something was very wrong. With that thought, he hastily made his way to the throne room.

Fletcher nodded to the door guards as he approached.

“Sir!” they saluted.

Fletcher returned a stout salute. “As you were, my friends,” he said.

The guards smiled and sent a brief flow of love and appreciation to him as they opened the doors.

Fletcher had received many comments from various subordinates, saying they respected him the most out of all of their commanding officers, because he never let rank get in the way of what was really important: the fact that every changeling in the hive was family. Every Ba-tem a father, every Bo-nem a son.

Fletcher smiled and sent love right back to them in response. As far as Fletcher was concerned, rank just determined who listened to whom. As long as orders were carried out, he didn’t really care if he was the one following or giving them, because orders were everything. The hive either thrived, or crumbled based on how well it followed orders.

Fletcher walked into the throne room and stood before the Queen. Her throne was flanked on either side by two of his Elite Guard brethren, while two more were posted on either side of the throne room. One of which was Mizer, who had been appointed to the Elite a few years after Fletcher. Various hoof maidens and attendants, including Kelt, were either fluttering around the room fulfilling various tasks, or waiting to be called upon.

The room was black like the rest of the hive, the walls made up of the same chitinous, wonder material they used in all their construction and crafting, plasma. Plasma was a bright green fluid that was full of strong protein strands. Strands which, when properly arranged with the assistance of magic, could either be stretchy as a rubber band, or as strong and solid as mahogany, depending on how the strands were arranged. It also made a great fuel, thus the room was lit by two rows of chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, each one holding several glass dishes of plasma, fueling bright green flames. The room therefore, was fairly dimly lit, but for creatures that could see in the dark, this worked just fine.

“Your Majesty, you summoned This one?” Fletcher said as he knelt before the Queen.

The Queen glanced around the room. “I wish for everyone who is not a guard to leave the throne room,” she said.

Fletcher sighed as he listened to the sound of all the hoof maidens and attendants clearing the room. Yep, something’s wrong alright.

The Queen waited for the doors to close before she looked down and addressed him.

“I have just received word, Commander Fletcher. The Ark have declared war on the hive, and scouts have confirmed sightings of their armies mobilizing from the south. They estimate their arrival to be sometime after dawn, three days from now,” she said.

Fletcher stiffened up. That was bad. The Ark was an alliance of creatures from the southern desert, consisting of ahuizotls, jackals, and the not-so-distant relatives of the gryphons, called harpies.

The ahuizotls were panther-like creatures with elongated heads, beefy gorilla arms, and an extra palm at the end of their tail. They were talented blacksmiths who forged very sturdy armor and weaponry. They were also rather hardy fighters who excelled at taking hits... as well as dishing them out.

The jackals were dog-like creatures with long ears, hands, and wide, flat chests. They had very keen senses, and unlike the ahuizotl they could walk or stand solely on their powerful hind legs, which allowed them to be rather swift and agile weapons users. As well, they often had a few among them that were very proficient with fire based magic. If the ahuizotls were the muscle, the jackals were definitely the brains of the outfit.

The harpies were mangy bird creatures that had upright spines, large taloned hindlegs, leathery wings, and falcon heads at the end of their gangly vulture necks. They were a terror in the air. Their talons had enough strength to crush rocks and their screech could not only render you deaf for weeks, if not permanently, but it actually had enough sonic pressure to blow you away.

With the three of these races working together, it truly was a triple-threat of terror.

“Orders your Majesty?” Fletcher asked.

“I’d like to know what you would advise, Commander. Do you believe we can defeat them?”

Fletcher bowed his head. “Your Highness, This one believes the Ark are not to be underestimated in the least, and humbly suggests that all changeling gatherers out in the field be summoned back to the hive as soon as possible. This one believes the hive will need as many that are able to be defenders, and anyone who is not, needs to be here providing the defenders with the love energy they’ll need to fight,” he said. “Did the scouts give an estimate of the Ark’s numbers?”

The Queen’s expression turned just a little grimmer. “Ten thousand strong,” she said.

Fletcher’s eyes widened. Even with every member of the hive gathered, it stood less than four thousand strong. The Ark weren’t just sending an invasion force, they were sending the exterminators.

The Queen was silent for a moment, until she finally looked up and said, “Be honest with me Commander Fletcher… can we survive this?”

After a long pause, Fletcher shook his head. “This one knows not, your Highness... but This one will put everything it has into protecting this hive,” he said resolutely.

“Then let it be so,” the Queen replied. With her magic aura, she brought forth a chest from behind the throne. She opened the chest and presented it to him. “Commander Fletcher, because of your tactical expertise in defence, I hereby appoint you to the rank of Alpha General for the duration of this conflict, so that you may leave my personal guard and lead the military forces on the front lines.”

Fletcher blinked. The chest displayed a magnificent set of black armor plates with bright blue accents.

Alpha General? Me?!

He felt the emotional equivalent of a proud smirk coming from Mizer.

Fletcher coughed. “Your Highness, surely someone with more experience, like Commander Latch or Commander Shal would be a more logical choice?”

The Queen nodded. “You would probably be right, however they are both on missions at the moment which place each of them too far away to make it back in time. Even so, I believe you will serve as more than an adequate replacement,” she said.

The Queen nodded to Mizer and the other guard. They stepped forward to replace their comrade’s armor.

“As you no doubt are aware, the Alpha General has command over the entire hive, even me, in order to ensure our safety. It goes without saying, that by giving you this authority I am placing a great deal of trust in you Commander, and I trust that you will not abuse it. Is that clear?” she asked sternly, just as Mizer and the other guard finished their work.

Fletcher gave a firm salute. “Yes, My Lady!”

“Good. Now then, what are your orders, Alpha?” she asked.

Fletcher looked down and stared at the floor in thought. He began to pace. The Queen and all the guards watched him quietly, but the longer he took, the more worried their expressions became. They began to wonder if the Queen had made the right decision. Everyone except for Mizer, that is. He knew Fletcher better than anyone, and if there was one thing Fletcher was good at after all this time, it was strategy.

Mizer was proven right when Fletcher suddenly stopped cold, turned to faced the throne, and began calling out a list of orders.

“Priority one is to regather our numbers. Send out one non-defender for every team in the field and recall them back to the hive as soon as possible.

“Priority two is love energy. As of this moment, a love rationing order is in effect. The love that everyone brings back should help to top off the cells in the storage caves, but we have to conserve until D-day. No one is to feed on the love in storage unless authorized, exchanges only.

“Priority three is the protection of the Queen. When the war begins, the Queen, the Elite Guard, and the non-defenders will take refuge in stronghold four and focus love towards the defenders.

“The throne room will hereby serve as the base of operations. All personnel with military rank higher than captain, her Highness included, are summoned to meet here in exactly two hours time for a war council. This one wants all preparations and adjustments to be made to the room by then. Immediately following the war council, the hive will be addressed.

“Is all of that clear?” he asked.

The Queen and guards blinked. He barely took a breath during that whole spiel. Mizer couldn’t help but smile.

The Queen finally found her words and nodded. “Yes, Sir. Crystal clear,” she said with a smirk. She chose well after all.

“Very good,” Fletcher said as he turned around. “This one will retire to its quarters to prepare our plan of defence. This one does not wish to be disturbed unless there is a serious problem that requires Its immediate attention,” he said as he headed for the doors. He heard a chorus of ‘Sir!’ from his fellow guards as he pushed the door open and left the throne room.

He looked up and saw all the hoof maidens and attendants waiting outside. The surprise on their faces was evident when they looked up and saw his armor. Only a select few understood what it meant, and Fletcher felt their concern begin to bubble to the surface. After all, the Queen only appointed an Alpha General during times of war.

Fletcher quickly sent them feelings of peace and reassurance. He couldn't let fear spread to the rest of the hive.

“Please return to the throne room, her Highness has orders for you,” he said.

Their spirits noticeably brightened as they nodded and ran inside. Fletcher smirked. Orders not only helped things to run smoothly, but to many changelings, they were the best source of comfort during times of stress. Orders let them focus on a task without having to think much, which was important because thinking too much only gave fear and anxiety a chance to fester.

As the doors closed behind him, Fletcher sauntered off to his quarters, already lost in his thoughts.

He entered his quarters and cleared his desk save for his drafting pad and charcoals as well as a few sheets of his previous defencive plans. None of them were designed for full scale war, but technically, war was simply made up of several smaller scale fights, so he could refer to them for inspiration.

“Okay,” he muttered to himself. At the very least we have three days advanced warning.

The one good thing about the Ark was that they were at least somewhat diplomatic about their slaughters, giving the hive a chance to organise itself rather than suddenly launching a siege out of nowhere.

But then again, by sending the declaration the Ark were basically showing just how confident they were that the hive didn’t stand a chance. They would be expecting the hive to be ready for them, and be leery of any traps…

…didn’t mean they wouldn’t be setting any, though. They had the advantage of fighting on home soil, and Fletcher was going to make use of every advantage they had. Then he would take the Ark’s advantages and turn them against them.

So for the next two hours he listed the advantages and disadvantages, strengths and weaknesses, of both sides, and thought of as many strategies as he could to turn the tides in their favor.

But there was one major weakness of the hive’s that kept coming up, and Fletcher couldn’t think of anything that could turn it around. The hive was emotionally networked. Everyone knew everyone else, and where they were, just by their emotional presence alone… and everyone in the hive would literally feel every casualty it took.

Fletcher’s thoughts turned to the others. He knew every single one of them, and well. He couldn’t imagine losing even one of them.

His head sank to the desk. It wouldn’t matter how brilliant his tactics were, in three days time he was going to lose someone, if not thousands of precious brothers and sisters.

…

Fletcher’s head shot up and he slammed his hooves on the desk. No! Not only could he not allow himself to feel despair for the sake of those around him who would sense it, but it was his job to reduce that number from thousands, to tens.

Like he said before, he would give this everything he had.

Fletcher walked into the throne room, pleased to see that several changes had been made. The throne itself had been removed, and the massive round wartable had been set up in the center of the room. The table was surrounded by a ring of chairs, two of which sat at opposite ends of the table and were greater in stature and craft than all the others. These two seats were for the Queen and the Alpha General. Behind the first ring of chairs was a second ring, raised up on bleachers to see over the backs of the first ring. Except, there were no chairs behind the two grand seats. The Queen and the Alpha were to have a full and complete view of everyone present.

The chandeliers were rearranged from the two lines that had lead up to the throne, to a ring centered around a central chandelier, hanging directly over the war table.

As Fletcher walked in, he was noticed first by Mizer.

“Alpha General in the war room!” he called out.

In unison, every officer in the room stamped their hooves at attention with an echoing clap!

“Salute!”

Again with perfect unison, every officer gave a firm salute and a stout, “Hah!”

Fletcher blinked. He suddenly became aware that he had subconsciously followed the orders along with them, and was now standing in the same rigid pose as everyone else. As a blush rose to his cheeks, he released the salute and cleared his throat.

“Ahem, yes um… thank you. Please take your seats,” he said awkwardly.

He heard Mizer and Woolly chuckling in the corner as everyone took their seats. Woolly was currently a few ranks below Commander, but he was above the rank of Captain so he had been summoned to the war council. He shot Fletcher a wink before taking his seat.

Fletcher made his way around the table to the far end and sat down in the grand seat. Seeing that everyone was seated and settled, Fletcher nodded to the attendant by the door, signalling them to fetch the Queen. The Alpha General was the one in charge now, but the hive still showed respect and protocol for their Royalty. The Queen would not enter the room until all participants were seated quietly.

The attendant soon returned and called out, “All rise for her Highness, Queen Atlas.”

Everyone seated around the table stood at attention as the Queen entered the room and took her place opposite of Fletcher.

“You may be seated,” she said. Once everyone was settled again, she continued, “As I’m sure most of you are aware by now, I have appointed Commander Fletcher as Alpha General of the hive for the purposes of leading us in our defence against the Ark alliance, who have declared war on us. Alpha General Fletcher has ordered this war council and you have been summoned because you are either ranked Captain or higher. I will now turn the proceedings over to him. Alpha General, Sir, the floor is yours,” she said with a slight head bow.

Fletcher bowed in kind. It felt really odd to have the Queen regard him that way, and to be honest, it made him a little uncomfortable. It just felt… wrong somehow. Regardless, he shook it off and cleared his throat.

“Thank you, your Majesty. As she said, you have been called here because you are ranked Captain or higher and you will be playing a large role in leading our defence. This one will now proceed to appoint Its Beta generals.

“Her Majesty, Queen Atlas will serve as This one’s Beta General ‘Mother Swan’. She will take refuge in strong hold four, and will be in command of the Elite Guard and the non-defenders. This group will be called Cygnet squadron. Cygnet will be in charge of--”

Fletcher paused when he noticed several confused looking faces around the room. He sighed.

“For those who are wondering, a Cygnet is a baby swan,” he muttered.

The looks of confusion were replaced by nods of understanding. Even the Queen herself seemed to have learned something. Fletcher had to remind himself that since he never left the hive to go on love gathering missions, he had significantly more opportunity than the others to read the precious few books that the hive had collected over the decades, and therefore had somewhat more knowledge and vocabulary than his brethren.

“As This one was saying, Cygnet will be in charge of channeling love to the defenders and attending the wounded. This one chose stronghold four for its size as well as its proximity to the storage caves. The current entries to the caves will be sealed, and a new channel shall be burrowed and reinforced to connect them to stronghold four. Members of Cygnet will make runs to the caves to either absorb love and channel it to the defenders, or use it for treating the wounded.

“Which bring us to our next squadron. Remly,” he called.

A young mare sitting in the outer circle responded. “Yes, Alpha, Sir?”

“This one has selected you and your current squadron to serve as its Beta General ‘Life Line’ and Red Heart squadron. We will be depending on your squadron’s speed and robustness to retrieve the injured and deliver them to Cygnet, while still keeping the way into stronghold four secure. Always work in twos, threes if you can. One or two to carry the injured, and one to escort them,” he directed.

Remly saluted. “Understood, Sir!”

Remly was the commander of the hive’s usual scout team, which were not only some of the hive’s fastest, but they could also handle themselves quite well in a fight. Perfect for Fletcher’s Red Heart squadron.

Fletcher then proceeded to call four more Beta Generals and organized five more squadrons: Blue Moon squadron lead by a commander dubbed ‘Eclipse’, Dark Night squadron lead by ‘Shadow’, Storm Cloud squadron lead by Woolly, or ‘Thunder’, Ghost squadron lead by ‘Mirage’ and Fletcher’s own squadron: Hammer Fall.

Next, the Beta Generals chose two commanders a piece to serve as their seconds in command, and then the rest of the room’s military rank was rearranged accordingly. With the chain of command set, Fletcher moved on to the defence plans.

“Here’s the landscape. In three days time, the Ark will be knocking on our doorstep. Before then, we will be making several fortifications and adjustments to the hive structure and surrounding area.

“This one will be going around to each squadron and giving its respective set of drills to run. This one wants every member of your squads to know these drills inside and out. The Ark Alliance severely outnumbers us, ten thousand to our less than four thousand, of which only about three thousand are actual fighters. If we wish to have any hope of defeating them, we must be smarter than them and use our troops in more effective ways,” he said. Fletcher then proceeded to outline the roles each squadron would play and their various missions.

The Queen watched in awe struck silence, listening to the various plans and tactics. She would never tell anyone, but with both her go-to Commanders Latch and Shal out of the picture, she was... scared. Not that Fletcher wasn't a good guard or anything, he was one of her smartest. She just didn’t think anyone other than Latch or Shal could handle it.

But Fletcher was proving to be rather capable. In fact, she wondered if Latch or Shal could even come up with some of the strategies that Fletcher had, and in two hours no less! She admitted that while Fletcher had been one of her Elite guards for quite a while, she never really bothered to get know him at all. Latch had recommended him to the Elites for his defensive expertise, which certainly was quite solid, but other than that she didn’t know much about him.

Of course she never did with any individual changeling, save a few. She never shared love with anyone, and forbade them to share any emotion but love with her. She was the Queen. The good of the entire hive rested on her shoulders. She couldn’t be bothered with any one’s baggage. The individual was not important.

This individual however... she had underestimated, and his inherent abilities seemed quite promising. Perhaps they did have a sliver of hope.

“...we will exploit their two major weaknesses,” Fletcher continued. “The Ark relies on the sun as the source for it’s only magic, and they rely on light to be able to see. My friends, if we can last until nightfall, This one believes we may have a good chance.”

The hive was assembled in the massive cavern of stronghold one, the only room large enough to hold the entire hive at one time. The walls were made up of several risers, all occupied by changelings, and centered around a large platform. Although it was built as a stronghold, this room was used most often as an auditorium of sorts whenever the Queen wished to address the entire hive.

The Queen stood on the platform, surrounded by the remainder of her Elite guards. Fletcher stood a few feet off to her left, and the rest of his Beta Generals stood shoulder to shoulder behind them.

The Queen looked up and cast a loud, authoritative voice into the crowd. “My people, a dark day has come upon us. The Ark Alliance from the southern deserts have declared war on our hive and even now their armies march toward us,” she began.

The hive broke out into frightened murmuring at the news.

“But,” the Queen continued, “there is a beacon of hope, for I have selected a capable Alpha General, to lead us in our darkest hour. Until this war reaches its end, his orders are yours as well as mine. Follow them, and we shall overcome. I present before you, Alpha General Fetcher. Hear his words,” she finished resolutely.

Fletcher tried his hardest not to gulp. No pressure or anything. Remembering his plans, he steeled himself and stepped forward to addressed the hive. He could do this.

“This one wouldn’t need to see the looks on your faces...” he called out to them, “...to feel how frightened you are. Indeed, the Ark is a terrifying gathering of races, each of which, could easily stand alone as a force to be reckoned with.

“We however, are not to be trifled with either!” he shouted. His confidence elicited some cheers.

“The Ark gave us a handicap by sending an advanced warning because they don’t think we’re even a match for them!”

A few cries of outrage broke out.

“They underestimate us. They believe we are nothing but mindless drones, controlled by some ‘hive mind’ and therefore incapable of outsmarting them. But their ignorance will be their undoing, for we will do exactly that!”

The entire hive erupted into cheers. After a moment, Fletcher held up a hoof to settle them again.

“Before Queen Atlas appointed This one to be your Alpha General, This one promised her that It would do everything in Its power to protect this hive. This one now makes that same promise to all of you. It has chosen formidable Beta generals that will extend Its directions to you. This one will also come around to each squadron to personally train, and observe your progress.

“The number one thing we must prepare is love. As you all should know at this point, a love rationing order is in effect. No one feeds on the love in the caves without Alpha or Beta General orders, and of the love that we generate, only use what you must. The rest should be stored. We only have so much non-changeling love stored away, and the love we give one another has only a fraction of the potency. Therefore it is important to generate as much of it as possible.

“This one wants to see exchanges of Lo Men Vai, clusters as large as possible during sleep shifts, massage circles at every chance opportunity, and any manner of kindness you can give to your brothers and sisters. Resolve any grievances you have with one another… you will soon be relying on them to watch your back. And above all, This one wants to hear the Fire at all times. From this moment, until the dawn of D-day, do not let it go out,” he finished.

The hive responded with salutes and a voluminous shout. “HAH!”

“Mizer… light the Fire,” Fletcher ordered.

Mizer stepped forward. He lifted a hoof and began to stomp.

Stomp.

Stomp.

The hive began to settle into silence as the sound echoed in the stronghold. Mizer was joined by a few others.

Stomp.

Stomp.

Another guard stepped forward and began to tap a rhythm, like a standing march.

Prrrrr Rap tap tap tap ta’ta’tap tap tap, Pr’rap tap tap tap ta’ta’tap tap tap…

On every downbeat, a few more guards and generals joined in, until the entire platform, save for Fletcher and the Queen, were either stomping or marching.

A slight tingle surged throughout the room. The kind that made the hair of your mane stand on end. This is what it felt like when the entire hive felt excited at once... and they were getting pumped.

The generals began to build up a chant as the rest of the hive joined the march. The chanting grew and grew until it finally gave way to a vigorous chorus of changeling chirping. Not the kind of chirping that lulled foalings to sleep. Oh no. It was a chorus of chirping the likes of which no changeling could hear, without their resolve igniting like a furious flame. A flame that called for the blood of anyone foolish enough to inflict harm on the hive.

Fletcher looked out into the crowd. The chorus and marching filled the massive cavern. There was no more fear now. Good. Fletcher stepped forward and took in a deep breath.

“DISMISSED!”

“HAH!” came the response amongst the chirping, followed by the loud buzz of nearly every wing in the room kicking to life. Fletcher smiled as he watched everyone take flight above him, everyone heading in different directions and practically occupying the same space, but there wasn’t a single collision. It was things like this that gave other creatures the impression that changelings had a ‘hive mind’. To be fair, they could do this blindfolded, but not because their brains were connected. They could fly like that because everyone could sense where everyone else was by their emotional presence, and consequently, and what direction they were going.

Not a hive mind, but a hive heart.

Fletcher smirked. Oh yes, let them come. We will not go down so easily.

Author's Note

So there's part one. I apologize for being OCD, I probably should have split this up much sooner. Be sure to let me know what you all thought.
Like, Fav, yatta, yatta, I'm going to bed now. Okay? Okay.

Chapter 6: Defiance (Part2)

I LIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIVE!!!

Good NIGHT this chapter took me way too long! I am so sorry friends. Thank you for sticking with me so patiently. I'm proud of this chapter but maaaaan I want to move on.
Anyway, without any more delay, here is the remainder of Chapter 6. Please enjoy. :pinkiehappy:

_______________________________________________________

Many miles to the south, rows upon rows of countless tents were illuminated by thousands of fire basins in the Ark alliance camp. From afar it looked like a small city nestled out in the dunes. Akil the jackal stepped out of his tent and took in a long breath of the cool night air.

“Ahh,” he sighed. “The Gods smile upon us this evening.”

The night sky was pristine, allowing the stars to shine through perfectly. Akil folded his arms behind his back as he walked through the makeshift streets and avenues of the camp, making his way towards the Master tent at the center. As he approached the tent, he nodded to the jackal guards. They nodded back and stood aside.

“Good evening, Commander,” they said.

“Indeed,” he replied as he walked past. He entered the tent and approached the second curtain inside.

“Lord Ra, I have come with this evening’s report, Sire,” he said.

“Enter,” was all the voice behind the curtain said.

Akil brushed the curtain aside and entered the main portion of the tent. A large, golden brown jackal, heavily decorated with golden regalia, was leaning over the opposite end of a table that was covered in maps and other documents.

“Status?” the jackal asked without looking up.

Akil cleared his throat. “Everything is running on schedule, My Lord.”

“Excellent...” Ra said. He ran his finger along one of his maps. “... we shall arrive 2 days from now and set up camp within 4 hours marching distance from the target. At dawn the next day, we will mobilize and commence the attack before noon.”

Akil bowed his head. “Yes, Sire...” He opened his mouth to speak again, but was interrupted by a sudden rukkus outside the tent.

“GET OUT OF MY WAY!!!” a voice growled.

It wasn’t long before the owner of the voice, a large ahuizotl, came bumbling into the tent.

“What is the meaning of this, Ra?!” the ahuizotl shouted as he waved a guard about in front of him, dangling him by the neck in the palm of his tail. “Why are your guards denying entry to one of the very leaders of this alliance?!”

Ra didn’t look up from the table. “Put him down, Navarro,” he muttered. “Had you the patience to hear them out, you would know that they were denying you entry because I am already in counsel with my Second in Command.”

The ahuizotl snorted as he threw a disapproving glare towards the Commander. “Ahkeel?! You place this welp higher in your priorities than your most important ally?!” he yelled as he tossed the guard back outside.

Akil huffed an angry sigh. “We’ve been through this Navarro, it’s Akil. AH-KILL,” he growled indignantly. Then he smirked. “Although... it does mean ‘intelligence’ so I suppose I can understand why you can’t seem to grasp it.”

“WHAT DID YOU SAY?!” Navarro roared in his face.

“Hmhm, what,” he chuckled, “are you dense and hard of hearing?”

“WHY YOU!”

Navarro raised his fist and Akil drew his khopeshes in response.

“Knock it off, both of you!” Ra barked.

Both of them stopped dead in their tracks and recoiled. Akil sheathed his weapons and hung his head in shame.

“Forgive me, My Lord,” he muttered.

Navarro simply grunted.

Ra let out a frustrated sigh. “What do you want, Navarro?”

Navarro growled. He didn’t like being treated this way.

“My warriors and I are not as used to this dry climate as you are. We are quickly running out of water. When will we reach the next oasis?” he demanded.

Ra slapped a map down on the table and pointed.

“There are two checkpoints between our position and the target. We will reach the first one tomorrow at approximately 5:00 pm, and the second one at about 8:00 pm the next day. Now, is there anything else I can help you with?” he asked in annoyance.

Navarro simply grunted his indignation, muttering something in his native tongue, and stormed out of the tent.

Akil turned to his master. “It’s a shame the ahuizotls are not more like the harpies. They’re much easier to control when they lack the capacity to talkback.”

Ra shook his head, staring after the curtain Navarro left through.

“Indeed. Unfortunately, muscle tends to come with a thick skull... and thicker pride.”

The Hammer Fall, Dark Night, and Blue Moon squadrons were lined up in ranks in the field outside the hive, as ordered by the Alpha. The Stallion himself came out to meet them and landed next to his Generals: Shadow and Eclipse, who saluted him.

Kelt, who was officially enlisted into Blue Moon, was temporarily tasked with assisting the Alpha General with his rounds. He took the massive drafts that Fletcher had drawn up, and set them up so everyone could see. The Alpha thanked him and he rejoined the ranks of Blue Moon.

Fletcher turned to his soldiers and cleared his throat.

“This one is pleased to see the determination in your eyes, for it is you that form the ranks of our primary defensive force. It rests with you, not to simply keep our foes at bay, but to inflict punishment on our enemy with all your strength and fury!”

The soldiers cheered in response, and even broke out into stomping briefly, in time with the Fire that was sounding inside the Hive.

Fletcher waited with a pleased smile. Once they settled he stepped over to the drafts and turned the cover over. Behind it was a large image of a Harpie.

“Blue Moon, you will focus primarily on the Harpies. You will be receiving support from Storm Cloud squadron, and we’ll be relying on you to keep the vultures off our backs,” he began.

He held up a stick in his magic aura and pointed to the diagram.

“The number one thing to watch out for is the talons,” he said, circling them in the diagram with his pointer stick. “Harpies are roughly twice the height of our stallions, with a wingspan of about twentyfive feet, which means they’ll have no problem wrapping their talons around your barrel. Our shells are strong but a Harpie’s vice grip could crush a boulder. Needless to say, you want to avoid that grip at all costs, so brush up on your evasion techniques. CT-47 will serve you well here.”

Combat Technique 47 was nice and simple as far as aerial maneuvers go. Simply tuck in your wings during flight and allow yourself to drop a few feet. It was the fastest way to change directions during flight, and quite effective for evading charging opponents.

“The other big thing to watch out for is the head, both the sharp beak as well as their sonic screech. We will be adjusting our helmets to protect our ears. Other than that, the only thing the screech can do to you while in the air is push you back. As long as you don’t collide with anyone else, it’s pretty harmless. If you are unable to evade it, just relax and ride it out. Just keep them away from the rest of us near the ground. Otherwise that screech of theirs could really do some damage.” he said.

He pointed to the beak.

“Now, as for the beak. We will be taking advantage of one of their attack behaviours in order to access one of their greatest weaknesses,” he said.

Some curious murmuring broke out in the ranks. So far the Harpies were sounding rather intimidating, so they were eager to hear how they were going to fight back.

“Harpies have a very basic intelligence and are fairly primal hunters, which means they’re easy to confuse and to agitate... thus making them predictable,” he added as he flipped the diagram over. “When Harpies go in for the kill, they extend their talons and their necks forward, like this,” he said as he gestured to the new drawing. Then he slapped the tip of the pointer on the drawing’s gangly little neck. “Thus exposing, not only the weakest, but the most vital part of their bodies: the neck. One pass with the blade of your bracer is all that it takes for decapitation,” he finished with a confident smirk.

The soldiers’ expressions moved from wide eyed awe, to pleased, confident smirks.

Fletcher continued, “We’ll also be taking advantage of their other primary weakness.”

He turned to his Beta Generals standing beside him.

“General Eclipse, what does a creature need in order to fly?”

The General blinked. The question was so simple he hesitated to answer, for fear of being wrong.

“Um… Wings, Sir?”

“Exactly! Wings plural,” Fletcher emphasized. He turned back to the soldiers. “Defeating an enemy that outnumbers you is all about taking your opponents out with the lowest amount of effort possible. Like everyone else, Harpies need both their wings to maintain flight. All we need to do is disable one of them. As you know there are many ways to go about this,” Fletcher pointed to various parts of the wing as he spoke, “attack the joints, the muscle in the ‘arm’, or slice a big enough tare in the membrane, and let gravity take care of the rest. There are lots of options that don’t require magic blasts, so be creative and try not to use up too much of our love reserves.

“To wrap up, both these methods of attack will lend themselves very well to CT-106,” he finished. He smirked as he saw the gears turning in the heads of Blue Moon. Some were even rubbing their hooves together.

Fletcher turned the diagram over.

“Now, Dark Night and Hammer Fall, we have the task of facing off with the Ark’s ground forces. Our job is to keep them from getting to Cygnet and Mother Swan. Thankfully, there is only one ground level entryway which the jackals and ahuizotls can access, and since the harpies are too cumbersome for tight spaces, we don’t need to worry about the sky entries.

“Our squadrons will be fighting together against the ahuizotls and the jackals, so all of you need to run drills to combat both.” Fletcher pointed at the diagram. “First, the ahuizotls. The ahuis are heavily armored and have a very sturdy stance, making it difficult to inflict much damage on them. Their thick arms can pack a heavy punch, more so if they’re wielding a weapon, and their highly dexterous tails pose a significant threat, so don’t get too close. Their disadvantage however, is that they are slow moving and easily aggravated.

“Therefore, much like Blue Moon, we will be working a ‘distract and disable’ tactic in two groups. The first will hold the target’s attention, while the second comes in with a fly-by and cuts off the tail. This will create an opportunity for the first group, as no doubt the ahui will turn its attention backward in pain and anger, exposing the gap in their armor at the neck. That is our moment to strike.

“As for the jackals...” he said as he flipped the diagram again, “...they are nimble and quick witted fighters, and many of them can use fire magic. They are very fast with their blades and they have powerful legs.

“They have a few weak points, such as the tendons above the heels, but for the most part, the jackals excel at diverting their opponent’s advances and turning the pressure back around on them. Therefore, this one would recommend that you keep your distance and attack from the air. You may use love energy for magic blasts in this case, but be frugal about it and make every shot count. They wear a lot less armor than the ahuis, so you should be able to land some good hits. For those among you who are hardier combat specialists, you are authorized to engage them in melee combat, but be wary, it’s much easier to avoid their fire from a distance. This one does not need to remind you that while chitin is resilient against flame, fire can easily claim your eyes, ears, or wings before you even know what’s happening.”

Coming to the end of the drawings, Fletcher laid them down flat on the ground.
“Our main goal is to last until nightfall when the jackal’s fire magic will cease to work altogether. It is likely that the Ark will not anticipate their siege to take that long so they may attempt to flee if it comes to that. We cannot let them flee. We must use this opportunity to wipe them out or they will return once the sun rises again.”

Fletcher paused as he looked up at his soldiers again. He was quiet for a moment as he looked out into their ranks.

“You three squadrons… are made up of our hive’s most seasoned fighters, our veterans…” He gestured to his drawings on the ground. “...This one can give you intel on the enemy and some guidance here and there, but you have your own instincts. Other than the specific orders This one has given you, This one simply admonishes you to trust those instincts,” he said.

“They may have numbers, true… but do not be afraid, for by nightfall... we will make them fear us!”

The soldiers clacked their hooves together and saluted.

“Hah!”

It was just before 8:00 in the evening when the oasis of the second checkpoint appeared on the horizon. Akil could hear the grumblings of relief from the ahuizotls as the army marched. Ahuizotls were an impatient bunch, which in turn made Akil feel rather impatient with them. He was getting sick of their whining. What were they expecting, a royal entourage to carry them across the desert?!

As they finally arrived, sure enough, instead of getting to work setting up camp, the Ahuizotl warriors unceremoniously dropped everything and ran for the spring, tripping over each other like a bunch of starved pigs at a feeding trough.

Akil saw the looks of yearning on his own warriors faces as they jealously watched the beasts lapping up the cool spring water. They looked to him, silently asking the question, but they daren’t move without permission. They knew better, unlike the ahuizotls.

Akil growled at them. “You are not mindless orangutans like that lot! You have more discipline than that! Complete your duties if you wish to take a respite,” he barked.

The jackal warriors hastily went back to their chores setting up the camp. Akil meanwhile was going to have a few choice words with a certain General.

He strode up behind Navarro and angrily yanked his head out of the water by the scruff of his neck.

“You think you and your ape-cats are the only ones who are thirsty?! There is work to be done,” he growled. He pointed back to the campsite that was slowly taking shape. “Tell your soldiers to go and fulfill their obligations.”

Navarro shoved him aside with one of his thick, metal plated arms.

“No me toques, perro!” he growled. (translation: Don’t touch me, you dirty mutt!)

He got right up in Akil’s face. “Not only are we not acclimated to this environment, Ahkeel, but our armor and our loads are much heavier than yours. Unless you want to haul those iron cages yourself, then my warriors will drink their fill and you will keep your tongue inside your head,” he growled.

Akil grimaced. Not just from the hot, foul breath in his face, but also at the idea of hauling those massive cages along through the sand. The cages were eight feet wide by twenty feet long. They were heavy, despite having wheels, and there were many of them. They were planning on bringing home quite a large prize after all.

“I don’t have time for this!” Akil huffed, and he stormed off back towards the camp.

Navarro glared after him. “Recuerda a quien hablas, perro,” he muttered under his breath.

(translation: Know your place, mutt.)

Fletcher was exhausted. It had been 52 hours and 23 minutes since he had slept last. Not that he was counting. Or at least... not on purpose. Like just about every other changeling, his brain was just hardwired that way, and sometimes it was a royal pain in the plot!

He was headed to his quarters to look over the most recent reports from the different squadrons, when he heard a shout.

“Get him!”

Out of no where, Fletcher was tackled by three small blurs, sending him rolling through his quarters’ entryway. He finally rolled to a stop and found himself on the flat of his back, with three little foalings piled on his chest.

“Ba-tem!” they cheered in unison.

Two little fillies and a colt smiled down at him, and despite everything that was going on, he couldn’t help but smile back.

“Hey guys,” he chuckled.

The colt piped up, “You’re losing your edge, Ba-tem. Didn’t you feel These ones coming?”

Guess I really am tired… I wasn’t really paying attention at all.

“Of course This one felt you coming,” he lied with a smirk. “It simply lured you in so it could do this!”

The foalings’ eyes widened as his forelegs suddenly captured them in a vice grip. His horn came to life, summoning all the fluffy polishing cloths lying around the room, and using them to mercilessly tickle his victims. His little captives squirmed and squealed with laughter as he tickled their bellies and wormed the cloths through the holes in their legs.

“Hahahahahaha, Ba-tem stahp it! Hahahahahaha,” one of the fillies cried.

“Hahaha, We surrender!” the colt laughed.

“Please! Hahaha, no more!”

Fletcher smiled. “Oh, very well…” he huffed, and released them.

They didn’t try to flee, but rather they let out a sigh of relief as they went limp on his chest, trying to catch their breath. Fletcher chuckled at them.

“Maybe that’ll teach you not to try sneaking up on your Commanding Officer,” he said.

“Huff, huff… never…” the colt breathed.

Fletcher laughed as he ruffled his mane. “That’s my Bo-nem.”

These three little foalings were a few that Fletcher was closest with. He loved them all, but these three clicked with him on a different level. The trio was always found together, exploring and practicing their changeling 101 skills together. Like every foaling, they learnt from all the adults collectively, but since Fletcher was always at the hive, they learnt the majority of what they knew from him. They all had a fairly balanced grasp of the various skills, but they each excelled in a different area.

Jazz the colt was particularly proficient with the combat techniques, and was always looking for someone to spar with him, whereas Mint was a rather promising little actress. Reply was best with disguises, and her voices were always spot on, but for some reason, she had taken to mimicking various animal calls as her favorite hobby. Fletcher once found himself bracing for an unseen stampede of elephants, only to find that it was Reply answering the call of a dare.

“Ba-tem!” Reply gasped. “You used the Queen’s word.”

Fletcher smirked. “Shhh, don’t tell anyone,” he whispered.

The foalings laughed. Fletcher had carried on the tradition that Mizer had started, and it had become his and the foalings’ little inside joke.

Mint suddenly gave him sad eyes. “Ba-tem, how come you never came to the cluster last night? A lot of extra Ma-tems and Ba-tems were there this time, but you weren’t. This one missed you,” she said.

“Yeah,” the other two added.

Fletcher bit his lip as he felt his heart both melt and break at the same time. “This one is sorry little ones, but This one is the Alpha General now. It doesn’t have much time for sleep,” he told them sadly.

Reply tilted her head. “But aren’t you tired?” she asked.

Fletcher chuckled and shook his head as he sat up. “It doesn’t really work like that, Fa-nem. This one has too many responsibilities. It can’t just quit because It’s tired.”

They each gave him a funny look.

“That’s dumb,” Jazz said bluntly. “You’re the Alpha General! You can do whatever you want! Not even the Queen can tell you what to do!”

Fletcher blinked... then snickered to himself.

Kids.

“No Jazz,” he said, shaking his head. “It well may be, that her Highness can’t tell This one what to do right now, but she will eventually get her authority back. And when she does, she’s going to remember everything This one has done, for good or for bad. So it’s very much in This one’s best interest, not to take advantage of It’s position,” he explained.

A voice interjected, “True, but it’s in the hive’s best interest to have a well rested Alpha General.”

Fletcher and the foulings turned to see Woolly standing in the entryway.

“Woolly!-- ahem, General Thunder,” Fletcher corrected himself. “Please come in. Do you have the reports for Storm Cloud ready?”

Woolly smiled as he walked in. He give a casual salute, and levitated a folder over to him. Fletcher reached out to grasp it, but Woolly pulled it out of his reach again and levitated it over to his desk.

“You need to take a break, Kiddo. You’ve been at it nonstop for more than two days now,” Woolly told him.

Fletcher sighed. “This one knows, but It can’t stop now. The Ark are only a day’s march away,” he argued.

“Then don’t stop,” Woolly replied. “Go have a rest with one of the clusters and generate some love energy. And let it recharge you while you’re at it. I’m sure you’re running low after helping with drills all this time. In the meantime, you can let your Betas manage things for a while.”

Fletcher sighed. I’m too tired to even argue.
He got up and wandered over to his desk. The foalings watched curiously as he scribbled something on a piece of parchment. Then he brought it back to Woolly and passed it to him.

“This one hereby appoints the Beta generals as first commanders until further notice, Alpha’s orders,” he muttered bitterly.

Woolly smirked as he took the parchment.

“Does that mean you’re coming to sleep now, Ba-tem?” Mint asked hopefully.

Fletcher turned to them, his expression a mixture of exhaustion, and joyful relief. He gave her a smile and a nod.

“Yay!” they cheered.

Another creature might find it bizarre to see children that were actually excited for bedtime, but for a changeling foaling, cuddling and sleeping with a large cluster, circulating love and emotions, was about as stimulating as a pony foal playing their favorite game with their entire extended family.

Fletcher walked over to his armor closet and removed the Alpha armor, carefully placing the plates on the stand.

Woolly sniffed the air. “Wooo. Be sure and take him for a bath first, alright? He clearly hasn’t had one in a while,” he said to the foalings with a smirk.

“Okay!” the foalings cheered again excitedly.

Fletcher meanwhile, did not look amused. He hated baths.

“I hate you,” he grumbled as he passed Woolly by.

Fletcher could still hear his Beta General snickering as he left his quarters, getting dragged along by the intrepid trio.

A unique feature of the hive, was that a section of the stream ran through one of the halls on the surface level, providing a convenient place to bathe inside the hive structure. Wide holes had also been dug beside the stream where water could pool, swirl, and then exit again with the current, providing spots with slower water flow to wash in.

The foalings were having a great time riding the current to the end of the bathing hall and running back to the start again, while Fletcher meanwhile, was sitting in one of the pools, a deadpan stare on his face.

I. Am. Freezing!

Fletcher really didn’t like baths. He couldn’t wait to go join a cluster. Not only were they brimming with circulating love, but they also supplied a lot of heat.

Delicious heat.

But alas, Woolly was quite right in his evaluation of Fletcher’s current hygiene. It had been awhile. So Fletcher set about scrubbing off the grit and dust that had built up over the last few days.

He had to fight his body’s impulses to cringe whenever he cleaned one of the holes in his legs. He couldn’t speak for everyone else, but his holes at least, were extremely ticklish... and it wasn’t helping to have ice cold water running through them. Unfortunately, the most sensitive parts of his body also happened to collect the most dirt. Go figure.

As Fletcher scrubbed, Jazz drifted into his little pool.

“Hey Ba-tem?”

“Hmm?” Fletcher asked distractedly.

“Can This one join the Hammer Fall Squadron? This one wants to fight with you, and smash up some heads!” he said excitedly as he slashed the water.

“No.”

“Aww, come ooon! Pleeeeeease?” the foaling begged.

Fletcher looked up at him from the holes he was scrubbing and shook his head.

“Sorry Bo-nem, but war is no place for a foaling. Yes, This one knows you’re good at sparring, but you’re not quite there yet. Your body hasn’t even grown enough to be able to redirect the enemy’s hatred. You would feel sick the moment you left the safety of the stronghold’s enchantment.”

Fletcher thought back to the time when he was picked on back at that pony school. He felt extremely nauseous just from the disdain they directed at him. He shuddered to think what the hatred of ten thousand fully grown warmongers would do to a foaling that couldn’t deflect it.

Jazz looked down sadly.

“This one doesn’t wanna be stuck in the stronghold the whole time,” he muttered. “If any of the bad guys got in, they could pick us off like fish in a barrel.”

Fletcher gave a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry. We won’t let them get to you in the stronghold--”

Fletcher froze mid sentence.

Fish in a barrel…

“Lieutenant!” he called out.

A changeling that was standing outside the entry poked his head in.

“You need something, Alpha, Sir?” he asked.

Fletcher waded to the edge of the pool and beckoned him over. “Yes, come here. Do you have parchment on you?”

“Yes Sir,” he answered as he walked over and reached into his satchel. He laid a sheet out in front of Fletcher and passed him a charcoal.

Fletcher took it in his magic, hastily wrote down some directions and diagrams, and passed them back to him.

“Get this to General Thunder immediately. Tell him This one wants the Betas working on this right away, Alpha’s orders,” he instructed.

The Lieutenant saluted and flew off. Fletcher turned back to a very confused looking foaling.

“Tell ya what, Kiddo,” he said as he put his foreleg around him. “Instead of fighting beside This one on the battlefield, you can fight beside It in the war of the minds.”

Jazz had no idea what just happened, but he could tell enough to know that he was helpful somehow, and that made him smile.

Now that he was clean, Fletcher and the foalings headed back to the nesting cells. Reply and Jazz were trotting up front, while little Mint was half holding, half tugging one of Fletcher’s forelegs. It was as if she thought he would try to make a run for it, the way she was holding on so tightly. Fletcher smiled as he let her lead him to the cluster, where more than thirty changelings were either already sleeping, or just settling in on the pile.

Fletcher and the foalings gingerly landed amongst them and settled in. He laid on his side and wrapped his forelegs around Mint as she snuggled into his chest. Jazz latched on to his shoulders and buried his muzzle in his mane, while Reply hugged one of his hind legs and rested her head in the crook where his midsection met his flank. As they got comfortable, several legs wrapped around them as the cluster embraced them. Fletcher released a long sigh as he basked in the warmth and euphoric feeling of countless hive mates cycling their love for one another.

“Ba-tem?” Mint whispered, looking up at him.

“Hmm?” Fletcher’s eyebrows rose, but his eyelids were too tired to follow.

“What’s going to happen to us?” she asked.

Fletcher sighed and gently stroked her back.

“Do you remember what This one promised you and all the others?” he asked, his eyes still closed.

“That you’ll do everything you can to protect us?”

“Mmhmm,” he answered.

He felt her squeeze him tighter.

“... you’re not going to die, are you?”

Fletcher paused.

There was always a risk of dying when you were in the military, especially when you were at war. But Mint was still a rather young foaling. She wasn’t quite old enough to fully understand the things the hive did yet. How could he be delicate about this?

He rested his chin on her head. Her tiny little horn was barely sharp enough to scratch an itch.

“This one will do whatever It must to make sure It’s Bo-nems and Fa-nems stay safe, Sweetheart. If anything happens to This one... then you can be in charge of making sure everyone remembers It, and why your old Ba-tem Fletcher was so important to you… Alpha’s orders,” he added with a chuckle.

She giggled along with him. The mention of receiving an order just for her from the Alpha General lifted her spirits a little. Having a special job gave her something to hold on to, even though she prayed she wouldn’t have to carry it out.

“Okay Ba-tem,” she whispered.

“Good girl.”

“Lo Men Vei,” they said together, before drifting off into euphoric slumber.

The target came into view as the Ark’s army approached on the final morning. Akil grimaced as he observed the sky. The weather was rather dark and cloudy. Looking ahead, it seemed to be thickest and darkest just over the target itself. There even appeared to be some rumblings of thunder. Akil leaned over to his Master.

“This is not good, Sire. With this much cloud cover our fire magic will be reduced by forty percent at least, even more so if it starts to rain,” he said.

Ra let out a relaxed sigh. “Such is war my servant. You must adapt to whatever environment you find yourself in.”

That didn’t help to sedate the Commander’s concerns. “Those storm clouds will likely pose a hazard to the harpies. They won’t be able to keep the bugs from flying out of range. Perhaps it would be wise to wait for more favorable weather, Sire,” Akil suggested.

“No. If the harpies get grounded by the lightning, then the little blighters will be grounded as well. Besides, this storm could last for days. Falling back to camp will just give them the opportunity to launch a preemptive strike, or even attempt to infiltrate our ranks with their disguises,” Ra replied.

Akil thought for a moment. “Perhaps we can solve the whole problem if we order the harpies to clear out the clouds?”

Ra shook his head, looking up at the sky. “If it were just a thin blanket of cloud cover then perhaps that would work, but there’d be far too much to clear before we even saw the sun poke through, much less clear it all entirely.”

“Surely their sonic bursts would be somewhat effective, no?” Akil inquired. Admittedly, he didn’t know very much about their winged allies.

Ra shook his head once more. “They can only do that once or twice a day before they risk ripping up their own throats. If the buzzards want to waste their shots to make a sunny day instead of saving them for battle, they can be my guests.” He turned to Akil. “I’m honestly not that concerned about it, Commander. The blighters won’t have any more than three or four thousand at the most. And even if they did, they’re about as dim as the harpies are,” he said, tapping the side of his head. “All we have to do is capture the Queen and make her submit. Once we control the Queen, we will have control of the entire hive mind, and thousands of the most efficient slaves in the world will be ours!”

“Very well, Sire,” Akil said, bowing his head.

“Are you prepared to lead the capture force?” Ra asked him.

“Of course, Sire.”

“Good. Once my troops have subdued their main force, I will give you the signal. Then you will lead your half of the ground forces into the hive and force your way to the Queen. Leave as many of them alive as you can, our empire won’t construct itself after all,” Ra finished before pulling ahead.

“Indeed, My Lord,” Akil said with a smile.

Fletcher stood in one of the higher sky entries overlooking the vast expanse of sand and dirt that would soon become a raging battlefield. On the horizon, he could just start to make out the first of the Ark’s battalions. They would likely come within range by about noon or so.

The closer to nightfall, the better, he thought.

Fletcher looked up at the sky, and a smile crossed his lips. For the last two and a half days, Stormcloud squadron had been busy gathering clouds from far and wide using the abilities of pony pegasi, and Fletcher was quite pleased with the result. They already managed to cut down the jackals fire power before anything had even started.

He looked down at the squadrons stationed on the ground. All the soldiers were diligently attending the Fire with their rousing chanting and steady march. Fletcher’s eyes fell on General Shadow and he sent him an emotional ‘ping’ of sorts.

There was an interesting sort of sub-language that changelings could use which Fletcher always found very difficult to describe. It took advantage of their ability to sense each others emotions, but it wasn’t really telepathy. They couldn’t read eachother’s minds or hear each other’s voices in their head... mostly because the sub-language had no ‘words’... just… feelings?... sensations?...no, that’s not the right word. It was like sending or receiving an idea like ‘go here’ or ‘attack now’ but without using or hearing those words. More like the thought of a certain place, coupled with a very strong urging to go there, or the thought of an action coupled with a time to do it and/or something to do it to. Suffice it to say, the communication was much simpler than the description made it sound.

At any rate, Fletcher was trying to convey the message: This one would like your attention now so please look in this direction. Sure enough, the General sensed the Alpha’s focus on him and looked up.

Now that eye contact was established, Fletcher could switch to a more… versatile language: hoof signals.

Status?

Everyone is in place, Sir.

And the traps?

All set, Sir.

Excellent. Hold steady and await my signal.

Yes, Sir!

Shadow finished his last signal with a salute as Fletcher turned his attention to General Eclipse. He was stationed with the rest of Blue Moon, perched upon the peak of the hive structure.

Status?

Blue Moon is in place and ready to move on your command, Sir.

Excellent. Keep your eyes on This one. Blue Moon will likely be the first to be deployed.

Yes, Sir!

Everything was in place then. The Queen and her guards were safely tucked away with the rest of Sygnet down in stronghold four, and all construction projects were fully completed. The squadrons were stationed and ready. After three full days of exposure to the Fire, the soldiers were hungry for battle.

Fletcher adjusted and tightened the bracers on his forelegs. Like everyone elses, his bracers were fitted with sharp, curved blades running along their length.

For the most part, changelings didn’t normally use weapons, or cover their legs with armor. Since their exoskeletal legs were so hard and thick on the surface, they could take hits from blades and arrows as if they were tree stumps and could also deal some rather hard blows.

But the bladed bracers were very practical in Fletchers eyes. They didn’t need to be held, like other weapons, yet they were always at the ready. They lent themselves very well to the combat techniques, and in many cases, made them more effective. Finally, there was nothing better than a fly-by slicing that took no more effort than simply flying in the supermare pose, so he ordered their use for the majority of his soldiers.

Fletcher looked up at the horizon again when something caught his eye. He could just barely make out a bunch of black… things amongst the Ark’s battalions. There were hundreds of them, and they were obviously quite large if they could be seen from this distance. Fletcher squinted as hard as he could.

Are those… cages?

He quickly sent out a few more pings.

Navarro grimaced as he felt the ground getting damper beneath his steps. Looking ahead, he saw that the warriors were trudging through some thicker looking mud. Obviously it must have rained here a little earlier.

Coming from a tropical climate, Navarro and his warriors couldn’t care less about marching in muddy terrain, but it was a pain in the culata to drag these massive cages through it.

The mud itself seemed a little off to him, though he couldn’t quite place it. It didn’t smell or feel any different, but something seemed off.

Deciding it wasn’t worth dwelling on, Navarro shook his head and looked up towards the target. His eyes narrowed and he licked his lips. Soon. Soon he would have thousands of slaves, to mine his gold and build up his empire.

It wouldn’t be long now before they came within range and the battle would begin. They would send in the buzzards to establish dominance in the skies, then the warriors would charge them on the field.

Navarro’s thoughts were interrupted as he noticed they were marching on dry ground once again.

Excelente.

Wars were better fought on dry ground after all!

Fletcher watched as the Ark’s battalions stopped in a line of organized rectangles out on the edge of the battle field. He took a deep breath.

So it begins.

With a sharp gesture, he cast his foreleg out to the side and snuffed the Fire into silence. In the seconds that followed, the tension felt so thick it could be cut with a knife. The combined emotions of all the hive’s soldiers felt like one great big ravenous dog pulling on it’s chain, just waiting to be unleashed.

Hold…

Fletcher’s eyes narrowed as he saw what seemed to be the Ark’s leader striding to the front of the ranks.

Hold…

He watched as the jackal held up one of his palms.

Hold…

…

…

The jackal cast his arm forward, triggering the launch of a thousand harpies to the skies.

Fletcher bellowed out the battlecry of every changeling general before him, an intimidating screech, and unleashed the beast. The soldiers of Blue Moon took off, fangs bared and screeching, while Dark Night galloped forward.

Ra raised an eyebrow. He hadn’t expected the insects to launch two fronts right of the bat. Swarming creatures usually attack the most immediate threat as a single unit, until a second threat is introduced. Looking closer, it appeared they had even divided their two groups to match his own forces, percentage wise.

Ra grinned. Now he was excited.

How smart their Queen must be. Very well, let us see what desperate and petty strategies you’ve managed to cook up, my Dear.

That was why Ra gave his opponents warning in advance. It was so much more satisfying to utterly crush his victims’ most earnest attempts to defend themselves, rather than simply defeat them. That way, his new slaves came with their spirits already broken.

He threw his hand forward again.

“Charge!” he yelled, and the first battalions took off.

Within moments, the harpies and Blue Moon soldiers met in the air. The first line of harpies took a hunting stance, with their talons and necks outstretched to claim the first of their changeling prey.

The front line of Blue Moon waited till the last possible second before deploying CT-47 and dropping like stones.

A few of the harpies fell for the feint, turning downward to make chase. The second line of changelings immediately took advantage of their exposed necks, and claimed first blood with a fly-by slice.

Fletcher smirked as he watched a dozen or so decapitated harpies flutter to the ground like sycamore seeds.

The rest of Blue Moon either banked over the oncoming charge, or dove under it and began a swarming pattern, orbiting around the enemy from all directions.

Fletcher smiled again as he watched. CT-106. Just like he told them. They were going to have some fun with this.

CT-106 was an advanced aerial combat technique that was designed to confuse the target, ensnare them, and take pot shots from every direction, all at the same time. The wonderful thing about changelings is that, while easily identifiable to each other, they pretty much look exactly the same to everyone else. Technically you could tell them apart if you memorised the constellations of holes in their legs, but when five or six different changelings are wizing by your face, it’s pretty difficult to keep tabs on which is which, or even decide which one to chase.

Like Fletcher told them, the harpies were proving fairly easy to agitate and confuse as Blue Moon enveloped them in spheres of swarming chitin. Then, as the buzzards desperately tried to follow what was in front of them, the changelings struck from behind with fly-by attacks, targeting the neck and wings. Some soldiers would even tear a hole in the wing by diving right through the membrane.

Every once in a while, a harpy or two would get fed up enough to use their screech and blow the sphere away, but in the end it didn’t affect much, as the broken hole would quickly fill back in again.

Thanks to the swarming technique, the harpies were having a pretty tough time following a single target long enough to actually take any casualties.

Blue Moon was doing well, but realistically they were still outnumbered and the tide was beginning to show signs of turning. That’s when the clouds overhead started to crackle.

Crackathoom!!!

In a blinding flash, one unlucky harpy found itself charred and on a collision course with the ground, package labeled: dead on arrival.

Fletcher smiled.

Direct hit...

3 Days Earlier:

“You want us to what?” Woolly asked incredulously.

It was the middle of the war council and after reestablishing the chain of command, the Alpha General was laying out their defence strategies. He had just finished describing his plans for ‘General Thunder’ and his squadron of about fifty soldiers.

Fletcher cleared his throat. “You heard correctly. You and your squadron will be providing cover-fire for Blue Moon using lightning. From now until D-day you will be using the abilities of Pegasi to gather storm clouds, enough to thoroughly blanket the skies over the battlefield. During the battle you will be hidden above the cloud line and you will strike the enemy with lightning.”

Woolly’s jaw fell, as did almost every other jaw in the room.

“Ooooookay…” Woolly said hesitantly, trying to process this bizarre plan, “...let’s assume for a moment there are no other issues with this plan and answer us this: If we’re supposed to stay hidden above the clouds, then how will we be able to see what we’re firing at?” he asked.

Fletcher smirked. “Easy. You won’t,” he answered.

As expected, his response was met with a few raised eyebrows.

“All you need to ‘see’ is where Blue Moon is,” he elaborated. “If you know where they are, they can show you exactly where the enemy is. For example,” he said as he pointed to the wall. “Obviously you can not see them with your eyes from here, but no doubt you can sense Umbra and Dusty over that way in hallway G-16?”

All heads turned where Fletcher was pointing. Woolly turned back to him and nodded slowly.

Fletcher continued. “Right, now if those two were trained, as Blue Moon will be, to arrange themselves in such a way that an enemy would be directly between them, do you think you would be able to hit such a target from here?” he asked.

Fletcher smirked as he saw the gears turning in their heads.

Woolly smiled.

“Aie, This one thinks It probably could.”

Fletcher sent a ping, more or less saying well done, to the soldier that bucked the first cloud. Then, as Blue Moon flew in circles and figure eights around the harpies, dozens more strikes rained down and hit their targets. Fletcher smirked as he watched the crispy poultry drop. The best part was, it was very likely the foolish vultures would never even catch on.

All of this was happening meanwhile as the two fronts grinded against each other on the ground.

Back when the two leaders signaled the attack, the two armies charged for one another, both sides hungry for battle. The jackals and ahuizotls at the front lines raised their weapons to take their first swings when--

Crack!

The very ground beneath them gave way, dropping them into a deep trench, stretching all the way across the field, and filled with brittle, spike-like shards of hardened plasma waiting for them at the bottom.

As their opponents fell, the changelings lept over the ridge of the trench and flew overhead, picking off the few jackals that hadn’t been impaled with magic shots, then engaged the remainder of the battalion on the other side.

Ra cried out with deranged laughter as he watched the scene before him.

“Ha’HA! Do you see that, Akil!” he shouted as he smacked his general on the back. “How clever you are, my Dear Queen Bee,” he mused to himself.

Ra always found it greatly amusing to see what sorts of defense these primitive little civilizations could come up with, and took it upon himself to see that they learned the hard way about the flaws in their strategies. While the pits had certainly caught them by surprise, the blighters’ little trap only managed claim a precious few. There was many more where that came from, and the trap was already sprung.

“Let’s see what else you’ve got,” he muttered darkly, before signaling the next battalions forward.

After days of marching and hauling cages and equipment through the desert, the warriors of those battalions were all too ready to finally do battle. The ahuizotls snarled as they charged forward, eager to teach the changelings a lesson for their audacity.

One of the ahuis spotted a target up ahead and locked on, licking his lips. Oh, how he wished he could slay his enemies like a proper warrior, and not be held back by silly orders to take them prisoner.

His chosen target still hadn’t moved from that spot, and only just now took notice of him charging towards it. The little pest looked paralysed with fear, bringing a smile to the ahui’s face. He reared up his weapon for a swing, when suddenly there was a flash of green from the changeling’s horn. He couldn’t move! The ahuizotl looked down at his feet to find that the mud that had been covering them turned to a solid black material as hard as stone, and had sealed three of his legs to the ground. He dropped his weapon as he grabbed his wrist with his free hand and tried to yank himself free. Another green flash went off in the corner of his eye, and his last free hand got sealed to the other. He roared in anger at the changeling as he yanked on his arms in the fruitless pursuit of freedom.

The changeling answered by leaping into the air, tucking into a flip, and bringing his hind hoof down on the ahui’s helmet like a hammer, crunching the visor over his eyes.

Now blinded, the ahuizotl felt around for his weapon with his tail, until he felt a searing pain in the rear end!

The little Blighter cut off his tail! The ahuizotl screamed in agony and rage toward the heavens... until he felt a stinging sensation across his neck. He felt dizzy… He was vaguely aware that he was now laying on the ground. And then… darkness.

Fletcher smiled from afar as he watched his Dark Night soldiers running distract and disable as he directed. It was working perfectly, and soaking the border of the battle field with plasma had certainly given them an edge. He watched his soldiers take down several ahuizotls with ease, and pick off many more jackals that were also stuck to the ground.

Unfortunately however, many jackals turned to using fire magic, and not every ahui could be restrained. The hive was beginning to take its first casualties, and they burned in the hearts of every changeling. Members of Red Heart deployed to retrieve the wounded, but for some, they knew it was already too late. Pain and anguish burned in Fletcher’s chest as he grit his teeth.

Kaizer…

Flint…

Asher…

Quill…

…

Tears escaped Fletcher’s eyes as many more faces flashed across his mind. So this is really happening...

He looked up to the sky where he could just barely sense the presence of General Thunder and sighed. Fletcher tried to justify his placement of Woolly by telling himself it was strategically necessary, but if he was honest… it was really because he wanted both Mizer and Woolly kept as far away from the battle as possible, for this exact reason. He hated himself for showing favouritism, but… he just… he couldn’t lose them.

Not them.

Lord Ra laughed as he watched the changelings’ newest parlour trick. Looking down at the mud on his feet, he bent down and rubbed a bit of it between his fingers.

“Extraordinary. It’s virtually undetectable,” he mused. “I honestly didn’t have a clue, did you Akil?” he asked his second in command.

“Not the faintest, My Lord. My apologies,” the general replied meekly.

Ra waved him off. “Nonsense, fret it none. It was genius after all,” he said, admiring the brilliance of it.

“…pffffft HA HA HA! Oh, it’s amazing how they can be so clever with the cloaking of their traps, and yet be foolish enough to have nothing to back them up with. It’s like a rabbit hitting a bear on the toe with a hammer, and then throwing the hammer away. It’s almost adorable, frankly,” Ra chuckled.

He projected his voice a little more as he regarded the battalions surrounding him, “Best wipe your feet off on the welcome mat, Boys! Less you want to make like trees before Lumberjacks!” he called.

The warriors laughed as they carefully wiped the mud off their feet. (And hands in the ahuizotls’ case.)

“Right,” Ra said as he raised his hand, “More pressure. Charge!” he yelled, sending off another wave of battalions.

The emotions of the Hammer Fall soldiers had been pulling on Fletcher’s mind for a while now, as they lay in wait below him. He had to keep a section of his forces in reserve so he could use them as a second wave of untired soldiers to support and reinvigorate the first group. He had to wait a little longer, until Dark Night squadron approached its breaking point in order to maximise his army’s effectiveness, but with every casualty they took, Hammer Fall’s rage burned hotter and hotter. Fletcher’s mind was filled with the pings they sent out to the world in general:

Vengeance...

Punishment...

Release us Alpha...

Destroy...

Eviscerate…

Let us at’em…

Fletcher kept his eyes on the battle field. The hive had successfully drawn out a third wave out of the Ark’s army, and the veterans in Dark Night had been holding up admirably against their numbers for a while now, but the pressure on their endurance was taking its toll.

“Yes, my brothers,” he whispered, “It is time.”

He spread his stance wide and crouched down, preparing to take off. He would be heading this wave himself, bearing up Dark Night and dropping the hammer. He pinged his soldiers below.

Prepare to launch.

All the pings that had been filling his mind went silent. He could practically feel them grinning.
Fletcher’s eyes narrowed on the enemy and launched forward like a dart, screeching the battle cry as he sailed over his squadron. Hammer Fall responded with their own battle cries as they blazed forward, gliding over the landscape at full throttle.

Like a cleansing wind they blew through the raging battle, slicing through ankles and tails of Ark currently locked in battle with their brethren, giving Dark Night just enough edge to come out on top.

The re-enforcements gave Dark Night a noticeable boost in morale as they redoubled their efforts.

Fletcher weaved between fighters, slicing and slashing as he passed.

“...That’s for Asher! And thats for Quill…” he roared as he got in a few kill shots.

Fletcher glanced up ahead. The Ark released another two battalions to join the ones they already had their hooves full with. Fletcher spat to the side.

“Here we go,” he sighed.

Fletcher looked up to the sky. He couldn’t tell what time it was, but he knew they had been fighting for five hours and thirty seven minutes, which meant there was roughly still a few hours left. Nightfall couldn’t come soon enough.

The tide was beginning to turn against them. Blue Moon was starting to get overwhelmed and couldn’t keep all the harpies off the squadrons below, and some soldiers were getting caught in their talons. Thankfully they weren’t squeezing them however, but rather the Ark seemed to have enough of a leash on the vultures that they would fly back to the cages and toss their prey inside as jackals manned the gates.

Dark Night and Hammerfall were running out of steam as well. On more than one occasion a few of them had gotten knocked into boulders, or cast tumbling along the ground by a harpy’s sonic screech.

Rainfall had dampened down the intensity of the jackals’ fireballs somewhat, but they were still barraging them ruthlessly with only slightly weaker attacks.

Fletcher cast another glance at the sky, willing the sun to go down. Hold on everyone. We’re almost there.

A sudden ping screamed in his head.

Look out!

Fletcher’s eyes widened as he turned and saw the inbound fireball. He barely had time to flinch before it hit him hard and hot in the face. He cried out in agony, clutching his face and spinning out of control.

Everything went dark.

...

“Thank you for saving me, Chestnut...”

“I think you would make a cute monster, like a teeny tiny manticore...”

“Would you like to come over after school for some milk and cookies...”

“You’re my friend, Chestnut. I could never hate you...”

Sugar…

“Mine Alpha!”

A soldier’s scream cut through the darkness of Fletcher’s mind. He weakly lifted his eyelids and was vaguely aware that the ground was rapidly approaching.

Huh, it appears to be my turn.

He closed his eyes again as he drifted back into unconsciousness...

BAM!

Screeeeee Clack!

Fletcher scrunched his face as the sound of a closing metal door brought him back into consciousness. He groggily opened his eyes to find that he had been thrown in a cage along with many of his brethren.

Jumping to his hooves, he rushed to the bars of the cage and looked out to see that the daylight was fading, but the battle field... had gone completely quiet. No one was fighting anymore. Every changeling outside the hive was either in cages, or lying on the ground… no longer a threat to the Ark.

He furiously started banging on the bars of the cage door along with the others that were still able to stand. Like everyone else, Fletcher’s bracers had been taken from him, and he noticed that no one was trying to use magic. He had a pretty good idea why, and to test out his suspicion, he tried to charge a magic blast. Sure enough, his magic was simply absorbed by the metal cage before he could even form a shot.

The cages had been dragged into a circle, and the jackals were lighting fire basins before they lost their magic for the night.

Fletcher looked over to see the Ark Leader walking into the midst of them. The jackal casually paced around the circle with his paws behind his back, and peered at them with a smug look on his face.

Ra let out a throaty laugh.

“Take a good look, your Highness...” he said, spreading his arms out wide and turning in place to display himself to his audience, “...for I am Lord Ra, your new Master.”

The cages erupted with outrage.

Ra simply chuckled.

“Ah, you’re not amused, are you. I do have to give you credit though, your Highness. You did very well given the limited resources you had…”

The changeling soldiers whispered among themselves as the jackal rambled.

“Who is he talking to? The Queen is inside.”

“They’re convinced that we have a hivemind, remember? He thinks the Queen can see him through our eyes.”

“... and your little tricks, petty as they were, were quite clever. They actually managed to catch us off guard. You should be proud. Though it’s a shame you didn’t bother to think any further ahead or your little strategies might have actually done something for you. Oh well…” Ra snickered.

“You just sit tight, your Highness,” he said darkly as he stared directly into one of the soldier’s eyes, “... we’ll be right down to pick you up.”

The caged occupants screeched in anger and furiously banged on the bars as Ra turned and launched three fireballs straight up in rapid succession.

From a few hundred meters away, Akil called out to his troops.

“That’s the signal! Advance!” he shouted as he cast his arm forward. “We take the Queen, we take victory!” he called out as he and Navarro led them into the darkness of the hive structure.

Navarro bumbled along behind him as Akil navigated the winding tunnels.

“How do you know where to go?” he grumbled.

Akil shook his head and groaned.

“The Queen will be in a safe place with all the non-fighting drones and the wounded, which means there’ll be hundreds of them. Just follow the source of heat and noise, Sand-for-brains,” he jeered as he struck down a lone changeling and threw it aside.

Navarro growled. “Te arrancaré el pelo fuera cuando esto termine.” (Translation: I’ll rip your hide off when this is through.)

He used his tail to throw a handful of knives at a group of three up ahead. They fell instantly. Akil kicked them to the side to get them out of the way of the troops.

“This way!” the commander called back.

Akil navigated them through various tunnels until they came to a solid wall of newly sealed plasma. Akil pressed his ear against it. He could feel the heat emanating off it, and heard hundreds of voices.

“This is it. General, if you would?”

Navarro turned and pointed to three of his ahuizotls.

“Rompan la puerta!” he ordered. (Translation: Break it down!)

The three warriors stood shoulder to shoulder as Akil and Navarro got behind them. At the signal, they charged and rammed into the wall with their thick shoulders. The wall splintered and creeked. They could hear several wings buzzing and panicked voices on the other side.

“Otra vez!” Navarro ordered. (Translation: Once more!)

They backed up and charged the door again. This time the wall broke apart and collapsed, raising a cloud of dust.

Several voices cried out from inside.

“The stronghold's been breached!”

“We’re all gonna die!”

“Protect the Queen!”

“Fire at will!”

A series of magic blasts rained down on the cloud from the scant few fighters in the room left to guard the Queen.

“Charge!” Akil yelled.

The walls practically shook as the army thundered into the massive stronghold to find countless glowing eyes cowering up in the higher levels, while no more than ten or so guards took to the air in the center and desperately tried to hold them back with a stream of magic blasts. Akil and Navarro stopped in the center of the massive room where they had a good vantage point.

“Onward boys! They’ve nowhere to run!”

Eventually, the first of the troops began to reach the changelings cowering above. An ahuizotl warrior threw a handful of knives into the first group. Five of them fell over with a satisfying thunk.

But something was odd.

None of the other ones flew away. The warrior threw another knife, and sure enough, the target fell over, but…

It’s eyes were still open!

He ran up and kicked one of his victims. A solidified plasma statue flew into the wall and broke in half, glowing hot stones rolling out of it’s skull. The ahuizotl roared in anger. He ran to the edge and called down to his commanders.

“They’re fakes!” he roared as he tossed a statue down.

It fell to the ground and broke a few feet in front of Navarro, steam rising from the glowing stones.

“What?!” he growled.

The ten changeling guards in the air closed their mouths, and the hundreds of voices that had been filling the room, instantly went silent.

SLAM!!!

A thick stone slab slid into place in the entryway. The warriors closest to it ran up and beat against it in panic.

“Commander! The exit has been sealed!” a jackal cried.

“Really? Oh Dear...” Akil yawned, feigning interest.

Navarro blinked. “Why are you not taking this seriously?! We are trapped!”

Suddenly, a hole opened up in the center of the ceiling and a stream of water came rushing down into the cavern. It was the water from the bathing hall above, which had been redirected down a new channel, just recently dug.

Akil shook his head. “You really are dense.”

Navarro snarled, his eyes narrowing. “This is not the time, Ahkeel!”

That’s when Akil suddenly started laughing like a mad dog.

Navarro could only raise his brow in confusion.

Is… Is he panicking?

The jackal looked up at him with an unsettling smile.

“Do you believe in ghosts, Navarro?”

Back on the battlefield, the sun had completely set at this point, and the only light was provided by the Ark’s fire basins. The caged changeling soldiers were still frantically beating against the cages and screaming in rage. Fletcher most fervently of all... until he cast a glance to the east where the stream ran across the landscape. The flow of water had dribbled to a hault.

Heh, looks like it’s time.

Like someone hit a switch, every protesting changeling stopped what they were doing and stood at attention.

Ra smiled.

“Looks like my servants have finally managed to make you submit. Welcome to my puppet collection, your Highness,” he said with a grin.

“Heh. Heh Heh. Ha Ha Ha Ah HaHaHaHaHaHaHaHaHaHaHaHaHa!!!”

Ra raised his eyebrow’s and turned around. A single changeling in one of the cages was laughing hysterically for some reason. Upon closer inspection, Ra noticed it was decorated a little differently than the others. It’s armor wasn’t all blue, rather, black with blue accents. Ra strode over to the cage and rattled the bars with his blade.

“Do you find something amusing, Slave?”

At the mention of the word slave, Fletcher only laughed harder. Wiping tears from his eyes, he finally calmed down enough to speak.

“Indeed… This one is completely astounded as to how utterly clueless you can be...” He shot the jackal a stone hard glare. “...Lord Ra,” he teased.

Ra narrowed his eyes.

“Excuse me?” he growled. “And who might you be?”

“This one is Alpha General Fletcher. Your opponent... and this war’s victor,” he said with a cheeky smile.

Now it was Ra’s turn to laugh, along with the rest of the surrounding army.

“Have you looked around, General?” Ra cackled. “Your definition of victory is rather questionable.”

“Have you?” Fletcher countered.

The laughter stopped abruptly. Ra gave a questioning look before looking over the faces of his other captives. All eyes were on him, as indeed they should be, but something was off. These were not the faces of submission, or even of creatures with their backs against the wall… they were smiling…

Ra was silent for a moment... Then he shook his head and started chuckling.

“You all think you have a cute little plan to turn all of this around, do you?” he said, turning back to Fletcher. “Hm hm what, just like your clever little ‘traps’ earlier? Because you certainly succeeded with those,” he teased, eliciting an uproar of laughter from his men.

The Alpha General weathered their laughter with an almost regal grace. He just sat there quietly, with his eyes closed and a knowing smile on his face.

“We are not the ones in a cage, Lord Ra,” he said quietly.

Ra laughed. “Ah, waxing philosophical are we, General? You do realise that proverbs won’t help you, right?” he scoffed.

“Perhaps not…” Fletcher mused. He opened his eyes and looked up at him with a smirk. “You don’t know much about changelings, do you Lord Ra?”

“Haha. Enlighten me, dear General,” Ra replied haughtily.

Fletcher smirked. “Well for starters, Her Majesty didn’t hear a word you just said. You outsiders all think changelings have some hive mind, but it doesn’t work like that.”

Ra raised an eyebrow. “Is that right,” he mused.

Fletcher continued. “We aren’t networked through the brain, we sense each other by emotion.”

“Interesting... No matter, your quality as slaves hasn’t changed. What other mysteries have you to impart, oh sage Alpha General?” the jackal patronized.

“As for your comment earlier, we do think ahead. Quite far in fact. Those ‘clever little traps’ as you put it, weren’t really traps at all…” Fletcher said with a smirk. “...they were the bait.”

Ra’s eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“Those traps were intentionally meant to cause minimal damage, in order to play to your arrogance. You all think changelings are just primitive idiots, so when our traps didn’t have a lasting or more encompassing effect, you were more than willing to accept that those were the best we could do, luring you into a false sense of security as you walked right into our real trap,” Fletcher said.

Ra’s teeth were clenching. “Oh? And what would that be?” he asked, trying to maintain his demeanour of superiority. So far he’d been pretty effectively called out, and the prospect that he’d actually been outsmarted was gradually becoming more and more possible. He was not okay with that.

Fletcher snickered and pointed out into the landscape.

“You see that stream out there?” he asked.

Ra gave a suspicious glare before turning where the Alpha General pointed. He squinted into the darkening landscape.

“Oh wait, of course you can’t, the water has all run dry,” Fletcher said, bopping his forehead with a hoof. “Hmm… It was a flowing stream when you got here. This one wonders where all that water could be going…”

Ra’s eyes widened.

“Your army didn’t force their way in to the Queen’s stronghold, Lord Ra,” Fletcher said darkly...

“...They were invited in.”

Now Navarro was really confused.

He… he’s lost it...

“What are you talking about!” he growled at the jackal.

Akil raised his paws and did finger quotations. “‘Ahkeel’ is lying six feet under, all the way back at your ‘checkpoint two’,” he snickered. “You guys marched all the way here with my entire Ghost squadron hidden in your ranks, and none of you had the slightest clue! You really are dimwits!”

Navarro’s eyes widened. Changeling!

“QUE TE MUERES DEMONIO!” he roared. (Die you demon!) He lunged forward and swung with his axe.

With the powerful legs of a jackal, the imposter effortlessly lept out of the way. He changed back into his true form mid air, and hovered upside down just in front of the ahuizotl’s face.

“Boo!” he taunted.

Navarro roared in anger as he fruitlessly swiped at him, but the changeling General simply ascended out of reach, and up towards his brethren.

“Welcome to your grave, Gentlecolts,” General Mirage called out to the Ark troops he once led. “This one’s sorry to say, but the Queen is in another stronghold. You might as well get comfortable though... you’ll be here awhile, after all.”

Navarro pointed to the stone door and yelled to his warriors, “Rompe la puerta!” (Break it down!)

The changeling hovering above him laughed as the ahuizotls desperately slammed into the slab.

“Did you really think we would seal our stronghold with that weak little wall earlier? That, my friend, is the real door. And This one can assure you, you won’t be moving it anytime soon,” Mirage jeered as he slowly ascended to the ceiling with the others.

Navarro slammed his fist in the rising water. “COWARDS!” he screamed.

“HA!” Mirage snorted indignantly. “You can hardly speak of cowardice when you send an army of ten thousand to invade a hive of less than four. Besides, This one wouldn’t call cutting your army in half without taking any casualties cowardice. That’s just smart!” he said, tapping the side of his head.

Four changelings flew to Mirage’s side.

“Here are your knives back, by the way,” they said as three of them dropped Navarro’s knives in the water.

“Just so you know… if you don’t see any blood, it usually means you didn’t breach the chitin. You might want to make sure your enemies are actually dead next time, and not just playing possum. Not that such advice will do you much good now, but you know, it’s the thought that counts,” they taunted before flying up to the hole in the ceiling, laughing all the way until they disappeared.

Navarro roared and hopelessly thrashed at the stone barricade, unable to do anything else.

Mirage poked his head back in through the hole.

“Oh, and Navarro? One more thing…”

The ahuizotl glared daggers back at him.

“Chupalo!” the changeling yelled, before withdrawing again. (translation: Suck it!)

“ARGHHHHHH!!! HIJO DE PUCHA! REGRESSAN MALDITOS COBARDES! MALDITA A TODOS!” the Ahuizotl roared with fury. (translation: Um… not safe for Woona)

Mirage chuckled at the infuriated ranting of his defeated enemy, and nodded to his brethren.

BAM!!!

They tipped over the massive stone, sealing the tomb. The silence that followed marked the last that Mirage ever had to hear from that neanderthal again. The redirected water from the bathing hall continued to flow down into the stronghold through carefully carved vents in the stone, without allowing any chance for escape.

Mirage let out a long sigh of relief. Four thousand fish in a barrel... Mission accomplished.

“Well done, Everyone,” he said. “Head back to Sygnet and assemble the recovered, This one has to get back to It’s own squadron.”

Ra was fuming. No way. There’s NO way! He was the son of Lords! King of Kings! There is NO WAY he was just outsmarted by a couple of cockroaches!

“What’s the matter, Lord Ra? You don’t look well,” Fletcher taunted with a smirk.

Ra grit his teeth as he turned around.

“A clever little ruse, I’ll give you that,” he sneered, “but you can wipe that smirk off your putrid little face, because once we drag you back home I am going to make every one of you pay for this the rest of your miserable lives!”

He turned and shouted orders to what remained of his army.

“You lot, start hauling these cages out of here,” he yelled at the ahuizotls. “The rest of you, get in that hive and bring me every living--”

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”

Ra was interrupted once again by an uproar of laughter from every cage in the circle. Ra and his army looked around the cages in confusion.

“Silence! SILENCE!!!” Ra screamed as he furiously struck the bars again.

The changelings didn’t seem to pay him any mind, in fact some even laughed harder. Ra pointed his blade at Fletcher.

"You! What in the nine hells is so funny?!"

Fletcher shook his head as he fought to stop laughing.

“You’re still under the delusion that you’re getting out of here alive,” he chuckled. “Like This one said before--”

Ra slammed the bars. “YOU’RE THE ONES WHO ARE DELUSIONAL! I don’t care what trick you think you have up your sleeves, there isn’t a chance in Tartarus that you’re getting out of those cages!” he snarled.

Fletcher bursts into laughter again, joining the rest of his soldiers.

“Did you really think we would let you put us in cages without having a way of getting out?” he snickered. “See, that’s another thing you don’t know about changelings, Ra. You could search the whole world, and you would never find better actors!!!”

On cue, the sound of buzzing wings flared across the battlefield, as half of the forgotten changelings seemingly arose from the dead and took flight.

Ra’s eyes widened. This was not good. The sun was long gone, which meant they had no fire power, not too mention minimal light to see with. They could not risk letting any of their captives escape, should the tide of this battle actually turn in the changelings’ favour.

“Get them!” Ra shouted at his army. “Do NOT let them get anywhere NEAR these cages!”

“Say, tell This one, Ra…” Fletcher began.

The Jackal glared daggers back at him. Fletcher shrugged it off and approached the edge of the cage, leaning in close.

“... Are you afraid of the dark?”

“What?”

Suddenly, every jackal holding stewardship over a fire basin snuffed it out. Ra wheeled around in a mixture of horror and outrage.

“WHAT ARE YOU D--”

Ra’s bellow died in in his throat as realisation hit him. Changelings. He looked back to the Alpha General, his eyes glowing in the darkness. But when did you…

Fletcher flashed him a mischievous grin.

“Lights ooooouut~,” he sang. Fletcher gave a quick blow, causing every changelings’ eyes to close like they had been extinguished like a candle, leaving the Ark in pitch darkness.

Ra could see nothing, but his surroundings filled with the sounds of buzzing, cries of confusion, and clashing blades among his own ranks.

“Guard the cages!” Ra yelled into the darkness. “They must not escape!”

Heh, too late, Fletcher mused as every jackal standing guard at the gate of a cage opened the locks and released their brethren, before running off to join the rest of Ghost squadron in the war of chaos. Which was less chaotic for them and more like torment for the Ark, given that they could actually tell where their enemy was… not to mention who was friend and who was foe.

Even though the changelings that weren’t in a disguise had to keep their eyes closed, they didn’t mind too much. Once they cleared the cage doors, all they had to do was follow the presence of their brethren into the sky.

Ra screamed in anger as he heard the cages open and countless more wings come to life.

“NOOOOOOOO!!!”

Bam!

Fletcher landed on top of his former prison, causing the metal to ring out in protest.

“Oh yes,” he said darkly.

Fletcher opened his eyes, as did row upon row of others after him, rising up into sky until the Ark was surrounded on all sides by a curtain of glowing blue eyes.

The Ark looked up at the site in terror. Sure changelings weren’t all that frightening in the daylight, but not being able to see them in the dark (save for those ghostly eyes), and knowing they can see you perfectly, made facing them a daunting task for any warrior.

“Perhaps it would be wise to wait for more favorable weather, Sire.”

Ra’s eyes widened as he heard Akil’s voice. Another set of glowing eyes flew in and landed on the cage beside the Alpha General.

“This one was worried when, for the sake of staying in character, it had to urge you to wait it out, but you had your head so far up your own rear end it didn’t matter what This one said! You’re even more daft than that baboon Navarro!” Mirage sneered in his regular voice.

Ra growled through clenched teeth.

“Fall back!” he yelled.

The soldiers of the Ark were all too willing to oblige and took off in retreat.

Ra pointed a khopesh at Fletcher.

“We’ll be back on the morrow, General, and this time we won’t be falling for any of your petty tricks!” he called.

Fletcher chuckled. “Oh no. You’ll go nowhere on the morrow… for you die tonight,” he said darkly. “This one already told you, Ra. We are not the ones in a cage!”

Fletcher sent a ping. Make it rain.

In answer, a barrage of green fireballs showered down from the clouds above. One such magic blast, strayed off toward the edge of the battlefield. It hit the ground, igniting the plasma laden in the mud and surrounded the entire battlefield in a massive ring of fire, several yards thick.

Fletcher called out to his soldiers around him, “The tides have changed. It’s time to avenge the fallen and administer punishment!”

“HAH!”

“Use of love energy is now fully authorized. Happy Hunting!”

Chaos had erupted once again on the field, accented by the cries of pain from the fleeing Ark warriors. With the sun down and the Ark’s torches snuffed out, the only illumination came from the ring of burning plasma at the battlefield’s edge and the barrage of flaming green magic blasts raining down from the heavens. Green flames of course, did not provide much light, which meant the Ark were left virtually blinded. Their enemies of course, could see them perfectly.

Fletcher was dishing out punishment left and right as jackal after jackal fell before him. He and his soldiers were like the phantoms of a nightmare, dashing to and fro amongst the shadows, and claiming countless victims in the darkness.

Fletcher’s ears suddenly perked up. In his mind’s eye he could sense Woolly suddenly plummet towards the earth. His immediate thought was that he had been injured somehow, but his concerns were sedated when he realized he couldn’t sense any pain in Woolly’s presence… just concentration.

What are you doing, Woolly? I had you stationed up there for a reason, he thought to himself as he engaged an ahui. He tried to follow Woolly’s trajectory and looked ahead with his mind. Directly below Woolly, there was another changeling that was falling, and he was in pain.

Kelt…

Kelt had injured or lost a wing somehow, judging by the searing pain in the back Fletcher sensed. Kelt would plummet to his death if no one caught him.

Thankfully, Woolly managed to pull it off with only a few feet left to spare. Once lowered to the ground, Kelt ran back to the hive on hoof to get treatment from Sygnet.

Fletcher breathed a sigh of relief.

Well done. Now get back up there, would ya? You’re making me nervous.

Shing!

“AHHHHHHH!”

Fletcher’s heart stopped. It didn’t matter how loud the chaos of the surrounding battle was, all he could discern was the horrible scream he prayed he would never hear. He could feel Woolly’s presence writhing in agony.

It felt like Woolly had been stabbed in the back and run clean through his chest, but there was no way a sword could penetrate the shell on a changeling’s back. Fletcher looked over in horror to see that Woolly was still in pegasus form, leaving him vulnerable to the sword of none other than Ra himself! Fletcher could only watch in horror as the jackal cackled.

“How’s this for emotion, General? How does this feel on your little ‘network’?”he taunted as he pushed and twisted the blade further into Woolly’s back. Then the jackal pried him off with a foot and ran off.

The ahui Fletcher was fighting took advantage of his distracted state, and grabbed him in a choke hold. The resulting death glare had enough venom in it to drop a hydra. With a hard twist, Fletcher turned himself around within the beast’s grasp until he was facing it. Then he grabbed its head and viciously squeezed his hooves into the joints, forcing the jaw to open.

“Get out of my way…” he whispered with cold intensity, and fired a magic blast point blank into the ahui’s maw.

He cast the smoking body aside and bolted for Woolly’s position faster than his wings could possibly allow. They cried out in protest, but he cried louder.

“REMLY!!!” he hollered.

He prayed his Red Heart general could hear him, cause wherever she was, she was out of range for him to sense her presence, and he desperately needed his fastest and most medically trained at this point.

Fletcher ground his hooves into the dirt as he landed and bumbled over to where Woolly lay. He didn’t seem to be breathing.

No. No no no no no no no no…

Fletcher set his hooves around him, turned him over and tried to shake him awake.
“Woolly?... Woolly!” he cried.

Woolly coughed and began to stir with a moan.

“H-hey Kiddo,” he muttered through his usual smile.

Fletcher let out a sigh of relief, tears forming in the corners of his eyes. He dispelled Woolly’s disguise for him and tried his best to start healing the wound, but he’d never come across a full skewering like this before. He needed Remly.

“What were you thinking, Woolly?” he whispered.

“Not much...” he chuckled, “other than ‘save him’. Had to keep pegasus wings or This one would have never caught up with the little rookie,” he wheezed, coughing up blood.

Fletcher shook his head as streams rolled down his cheeks.

“Don’t speak anymore…”

He finally felt Remly come within sensing range and, to his relief, she was hauling flank. She sent him two basic pings. Coming. Fast.

“...help will be here soon,” Fletcher finished.

Woolly chuckled despite him and spoke between labored breaths.

“We’ve won this thing, Kid… huff... and it’s all thanks to you. There’s not a commander alive or dead… huff... that could have pulled this off… huff... like you did…... believe that,” he said, tapping Fletcher on the chest.

“This one is… I’m... I’m proud of you... Kiddo...” he muttered, as tired, heavy eyelids fell.

Fletcher’s eyes widened in horror.

No.

“Woolly?” he called as he shook him again. “Woolly, no! No! No! Don’t do this! Woolly you can’t go! Please!”

There was no response…

What was only a brief moment, may as well have been an eternity, before Remly and another Red Heart finally skidded to a halt beside them.

“These ones are here Alph-- Oh no...” Remly’s voice fell when she saw her fellow Beta-General in her Alpha’s forelegs.

She ran up and started looking him over. Woolly had lost consciousness, and Fletcher was like a statue.

“Mine Alpha…” she whispered, “... This one is so sorry...”

Fletcher slowly laid Woolly’s limp body on the ground and turned away.

“Take him, Remly. Bring our Ba-tem home...”

A common myth among pony-folk says, that when you’re mad enough, you literally start to see red. For changelings however, it’s a bit of a different story. While anger and fury sometimes produces adrenaline, in a changeling it can turn into a venom-like poison if it becomes too concentrated. When Fletcher opened his eyes again they were not their normal blue... or red for that matter. Rather, they were a bright and fiery green.

Fletcher launched straight upward into the air and furiously began to scope out his target amongst the chaos. His eyes narrowed as he located the monster he was hunting.

Target Locked.

...

Time appeared to freeze, and all external noise went silent... such that only the voice of Fletcher’s thoughts could be heard. He visualized himself on the ground, facing Ra, who had his khopeshes drawn. Ark warriors and changeling soldiers were fighting individual battles all around them, forming a ring of clear space.

First: Agitate Target.

In his mind’s eye, Fletcher visualized himself firing a magic blast. Ra dissipates the attack with a cross slice of his blades, and charges for the changeling.

Then evade wild swing.

Fletcher ducks low as Ra swings horizontally over his head with his right blade.

Catch wrist. Hyperextend elbow…

Fletcher grabs the wrist above him and punches upwards into the back of the elbow.

...and break ribs.

He follows up with an elbow shot to the jackal’s ribs. Ra staggers back a few steps and drops his right Khopesh. Fletcher rises up on his hind legs and takes a fighting stance.

Target will attempt chop with left. Deploy CT-4.

Ra slices downward with his remaining weapon. Fletcher evades it with a basic sidestep to the right.

Disarm.

Fletcher steps on the blade and punches Ra in the chest, forcing him to let go of his weapon.

Force paws to muzzle.

Fletcher lunges forward and strikes him with a shot to the face. In a typical reaction, Ra’s paws go to his nose.

Drive broken ribs into lungs...

Fletcher swings his foreleg into the Jackal’s side.

… and deploy CT-12 to the diaphragm.

Then he follows it up with a round-house kick to the stomach, and Ra doubles over in pain.

Compromise balance.

Fletcher hooks his hind leg around Ra’s and pulls it back, forcing him on all fours.

Break spine.

Fletcher throws both his hooves in the air and slams them down on the Jackal’s back. Ra collapses to the ground.

In summary: Target paralyzed. Muzzle fractured. Arm, spinal column, and four ribs broken. Lungs punctured. Drowning via internal bleeding: imminent. Estimated life expectancy: Two minutes at best... whilst under extreme pain. Vengeance: exacted.

...

The appearance of time resumed.

Fletcher dive bombed for the Jackal Leader, hooves first.

“RAAAAAAAAA!!!” he bellowed as he charged amongst raining magic blasts towards his target.

He tackled him full force, and they rolled through the battle field. Ra came to a stop while Fletcher rolled on a few more feet. He came to a controlled stop and ended on his hooves, facing his enemy. They were surrounded by a ring of warriors and soldiers, all fighting their own battles. Ra got to his feet and drew his khopeshes. The two leaders stared each other down in a moment of intense hatred.

Fletcher fired a magic blast, which was quickly dissipated with an experienced cross slash of Ra’s khopeshes. The Jackal roared out a battle cry as he charged his opponent and took a wide swing. Fletcher ducked under the stroke and grabbed his wrist from below. He rammed the back of Ra’s elbow with a loud crunch, then rammed his own elbow into his ribs.

Ra staggered back a few steps, howling in pain. The trauma to his arm caused his grip to waiver and he dropped his sword. He snarled as the watched his opponent’s glowing eyes rise to his own eye level in the darkness. Ra roared in anger, and attempted to drop his blade down on his enemy, but the pair of eyes simply glided off to the side as if they belonged to some ethereal ghost. After hitting the ground with his blade, Ra felt something hold it there before he was forced back by a punch in the chest, leaving his second weapon behind.

Fletcher lunged forward and gave him a hard jab to the muzzle, causing Ra to hold it in agony with his paws. He then swung his foreleg into the Jackal’s side, and followed up with a round-house kick to the stomach.

Ra groaned as he doubled over, clutching his stomach. He started coughing and sputtering blood. Fletcher hooked his hind leg around Ra’s own and pulled it back, forcing him to his hands and knees. The changeling threw both forehooves up in the air and mercilessly slammed them down on his opponent’s spine.

Ra fell to the ground and Fletcher kicked him over onto the flat of his back. The jackal’s eyes simply stared forward, stunned, while he wheezed short, laboured breaths.

Fletcher’s glowing eyes loomed over him in the darkness, glaring daggers at him.

“Tartarus welcomes you, Devil Tyrant.”

He spat in the jackal’s eye and walked away, leaving him to enjoy his two minutes of hell... which would feel more like an eternity.

Fletcher stood in the throne room, in line with the other Elites. The Queen looked down on them and smiled.

“Well done my servants. We have successfully repelled the Ark Alliance, and we are alive today thanks to Commander Fletcher’s outstanding leadership and tactics,” she said.

His fellow guards sent Fletcher their congratulatory sentiments and even rubbed their wings together as a form of applause, but Fletcher was in another place. Members of his family were lost, and it was all he could do to keep himself from shedding tears in the presence of the Queen. One does not burden her Majesty with their emotions.

“It was both surprising and spectacular to see the might this hive is capable off,” the Queen continued. “In light of this, I believe it is time we expanded our borders so our numbers and Empire can grow, until neither the Ark nor anyone else would dare to attack us again,” she said.

Fletcher perked up. What do you mean by expand? He didn’t like the sound of this.

“Soon, we will march to the north, and conquer the land of Atalanter. We shall chase them out and build more hive structures so we can increase our population,” she declared.

Fletcher’s eyes widened with horror. He couldn’t believe his Queen was even considering something like this after they just lost so many to those who tried to conquer them.

“B-but your Majesty,” he objected, “the Atalanterns are peaceful creatures. They haven’t done anything to us.”

“Exactly,” she replied with a crooked smile. “The deer are passive and weak, which is why we will be able to conquer them with ease!”

Fletcher’s jaw dropped.

H-how could you say that?

As he struggled with his inner turmoil, he vaguely heard the Queen begining to dish out orders to his brethren. Fletcher clenched his teeth and his eyes squeezed shut.

Many good changelings are dead now after trying to defend their home from the monsters who thought that way. How could you?

The Queen was making her way down the line, giving each Elite specific orders.

Fletcher was beginning to quiver at this point. Any moment now she would call on him. Give him some order that would play a direct part in ruining the lives of an entire nation.

Disobeying orders was out of the question. Not only was it immediate grounds for banishment, it was the hive’s greatest taboo. To a changeling, defying the Queen’s orders would be like murdering a hive member in cold blood. Those that had considered you their brother for your entire life, would disown you entirely, as they should. Orders were always for the good of the colony after all...

Though apparently the good of anyone else in this world is none of our concern!

How could he possibly attack a nation of creatures that hadn’t done anything to them?

The Queen gave orders to Mizer, standing two positions away from Fletcher. Just like the others, he reluctantly saluted and headed off to fulfill his duty.

This is wrong.

The next guard received his orders and headed off.

Fletcher could see the faces of the Atalanterns. The bucks, the does… and the foals...

Sugar…

“Commander Fletcher, you will be in command of squadrons Theta and Epsilon...”

Never again.

“...and you will be leading the first of the night raids--”

“No.”

The room froze. Fletcher could sense the horror coming from Mizer and the other guards, but he ignored them.

“W-what did you just say?” the Queen breathed. She was utterly taken aback.

Fletcher slowly lifted his head and opened his eyes, to look his Queen in the face.

“This one will not attack creatures that haven’t done Itself, nor Its allies, any wrong,” he declared.

The Queen was absolutely seething. “How dare you--”

“How dare you!” Fletcher snarled back.

He was shaking. Every fiber of his being was fighting against him, begging him to keep his big mouth shut… but he had to do this.

“We haven’t even buried our dead, much less said our farewells, and you’re already making plans to do the exact same thing that the Ark just did to us! Many good changelings gave their lives to protect their home, their Queen!” he spat.

His voice lowered to a cold, hard whisper. “This one gave you the title of Mother Swan because when It envisions the Queen of a colony, It see’s someone who leads, guides, and protects their people with tenderness, and more importantly, with love. That is how a Queen is supposed to be... yet This one can honestly say, it has never felt the slightest glimmer of love from you. You have failed your cygnets, Mother Swan, and This one will not follow a Queen that is willing to taint their sacrifices so readily,” he finished resolutely.

The Queen’s eyes narrowed. “Then as far as you’re concerned, you no longer have a Queen to follow,” she hissed.

Fletcher’s heart sank. He was expecting nothing less of course, but those words… he never imagined just how deeply they would cut his soul… all he ever wanted, was to be a good stallion and protect the hive he cared so much about… he… he did the right thing, didn’t he?

“Guards! Get this insubordinate scum out of my sight, and mark him for the traitor he is!” she ordered.

t-traitor?

Two of his once called brethren, came and took up Fletcher’s forelegs.

He didn’t resist. He was hurting too much.

The Guards were trying hard not to share any emotion with him, and give him the cold shaft they were obligated to, but Fletcher could still tell that they felt a touch of remorse. Or perhaps it was just shock, still struggling to believe he had really just betrayed them. They may not have agreed with the orders they were given either, but a betrayal to the Queen was a betrayal to the hive itself. He might as well have just made an attempt on the Queen’s life.

Mizer watched in stunned silence as they led Fletcher out of the throne room. The Queen brought forth a black and green box laced with gold, and levitated it over to him. Mizer froze. He knew exactly what the box contained, and the Queen was giving him the so called ‘honors’.

“High treason,” she said to him. “I want it on his eye!”

Fletcher stood with his hooves and horn shackled in a small room, held on either side by the two guards. Two more Elites stood guard outside the door, and Mizer quietly stared at the box he had placed on the side table. This was the discipline room. Any time the Queen demanded punishment, it was carried out here. And it fell to the Elite to carry out whatsoever discipline was required. The walls were enchanted, not just to block out sound, but also to prevent any emotions from reaching anyone in the hive, should the prisoner be a changeling and they attempt to rouse compassion in someone. The Elite were also trained to withhold any emotion from the prisoner... but they never thought they would have to discipline a fellow Elite, much less a former Alpha General. They were struggling a bit. Mizer most of all.

He sighed. “My Brothers... please leave us,” he muttered.

The two guards looked at eachother, then turned back to him. “We can’t just leave you--” one of them started, but Mizer interrupted him with a raised hoof.

“Yes you can,” he said quietly. “You know just as well as This one does, that he’s not going to do anything. He accepted the consequences before he made his decision. Even if he wanted to escape, there’s little he could do with the four of you standing outside the only exit.”

The guards looked at eachother again and finally nodded. As they walked out the door, one of them turned back and asked, “And what if he should use you as a hostage?”

Mizer looked him in the eye and replied, “Then This one gives you express permission to kill It if necessary.”

The guard’s eyes widened for a moment, then he gave a solemn nod and walked out the door.

Mizer stood in silence for a long time, until he finally looked back at Fletcher. One of his fondest Bo-nems, and here he was on the receiving end of the discipline room, just hanging his head in humble silence...and he was to be his punisher.

“Why, Fletcher?” Mizer whispered, taking slow, small steps towards him. “Why did you have to say no… when I couldn’t?”

Fletcher looked up. There were tears welling in Mizer’s eyes, threatening to run down his cheeks.

“Y-you… You wanted to refuse?” Fletcher asked incredulously.

Mizer gave a remorseful look. “I didn’t like the Queen’s idea any more than you did, but I lacked the courage to sever myself from the hive and do the right thing. I should be the one standing where you are... I’m so sorry,” he whispered.

Fletcher was silent for a moment, until he shook his head. “No, I would have made the same decision anyway. You just would have been first to voice it.”

“I’ll go with you,” Mizer said.

Fletcher moved to the end of the chain’s reach and rested his hoof on Mizer’s shoulder. “No. I need you to stay with them. I need to know that no matter what she makes them do, that you’re still here watching over them. Please... promise me you’ll take care of them,” he begged.

Mizer grit his teeth.

“No Queen… has had greater love for this hive family than you, Fletcher… and yet the entire hive is about to strip you of all their love, all because that hag thinks you’re the traitor...” he seethed.

Fletcher gave him a sad look. Only behind these walls could Mizer feel or say such things.

He reached up behind Mizer’s head and guided him to his own forehead. “It is not their fault. They only do what they must…”

He gestured toward the box on the table.

“... as must you,” he said.

Mizer was quivering now from gritting his teeth so hard. He brought the knife over in his aura and stared at it with hatred.

“With two simple strokes, she commands me to condemn my precious Bo-nem to death…” he whimpered.

Fletcher gave the most comforting smile and as much love, as he could. He was scared of what his future held, but he felt surprisingly calm as he forgot about himself to comfort Mizer.

“It’s ok. This was my choice. Follow your orders, then stay with them… and keep them safe for me,” he told him.

Fletcher let go as Mizer lifted his head to look at him. He finally let the streams fall down his cheeks in full force.

He sniffed. “Think well of me… my Bo-nem.”

Fletcher closed his eyes and held still, allowing his own tears to fall.

“Always Ba-tem… always,” Fletcher whispered.

“Lo Men Vai.”

Author's Note

Tissue? I'm sorry, I promise not all my chapters are going to end so sadly.

Hey Doc! Whatcha workin' on?

Hmm? Oh hey, Woolly. Just finish up chapter six.

Wait, you're just finishing that up now?! That one was ages ago.

Facepalms* I KNOW, I know, just... let it go.

Alright... So how'd I do?

You did great buddy.

Not as good as me, though.

What? Oh come on, Kid. Gimme a break, comparing anybody to your performance would be like comparing a sandwich to a five star dinner!

I didn't say it wasn't good. You did a very good job, it just wasn't as good as my death performance.

Whatever. Anyway, Doc, when do you want me to come in for my next scene--

SHH!! WOOLLY!

What?! What's the matter, what?

SPOILERS Dude! You're killing me, here.

What?

The audience is right there, Dude. They think you're dead!

Oh. Uh... Like, Comment, and Subcribe???

Facepalm* That's Youtube...

What he meant was, if you liked it, be sure to show it with a Like or a Fav, and let us know which parts you liked best in the comments. See you next time!

Um... do you need a hug, Doctor?

...

Yes.

Chapter 7: Master

Yep. It's been a long time.
Yep. There's a massive word count. Nope, I will not apologize for it. Pace yourselves.

Doctor? Is that you?

Hi Sweety, it's good to see you again.

YOU'RE BACK!!! *Glomp*

Hahaha I missed you too, Sugar.

It's been soooo long...

Yeah.... folks might wanna reread some previous chapters...

Anyway, a few notes before we start:

The best way to describe what Master Dizzy sounds like, is a cross between Jack Sparrow and the 10th Doctor (couldn’t really find a way to describe that in-story).

I use different scene breaks:
-------------------------------------- indicate short time cuts just like before, whereas
---------------**:**------------------ indicate time cuts of several weeks or months, since this chapter covers various events over the span of five years

Please enjoy. (Those of you who have been waiting the whole two and a half years since the last update have most certainly earned it.)

The sun bore down hard over the badlands, the air hot and dusty. Four black hooves plodded along in the dirt, jostling Fletcher’s weary head with every step. He was long past the point of exhaustion, but he’d been walking for so long that his body was now operating on autopilot. It would actually take a conscious effort to get his legs to stop... but he was too tired to afford even that. That, and he knew that if he stopped, he wouldn’t be able to keep going.

He’d managed a week. One whole week of refusing to give in to his basic needs. He’d sworn off taking love from non-changelings a long time ago, and rather than feed himself at the cost of someone else, he endeavored to convince his body to shut down.

Unfortunately, the body has this rather annoying tendency of taking self preservation seriously. His every attempt at calming himself down resulted in his body panicking, screaming in his head about the hunger pains like an inconsolable child. Eventually he couldn’t take it anymore, and in an attempt to sedate the little crybaby, he picked a random direction and just started walking.

At least... he told himself it was random. But of course, his stupid brain knew exactly which direction he has going. It knew exactly what creatures it would find there, and it calculated exactly what the trade off was between the cost of energy for a disguise of that species and the potential energy he could regain, and that of all directions, this was the most efficient option. He was bound for the Equestrian border.

Sometimes he hated his body and its hardwired brain.

There’s food this way, he could almost hear it saying.

That’s right, but that doesn’t mean you get to have any! he chastised himself. The whole situation was not dissimilar to a parent losing an argument with an overly exuberant child.

Feed me, it whined.

No. You’re going to go to sleep. Permanently.

I don’t wanna!

Well, it’s not up to you, is it!?

… you don’t wanna, either, he heard it pout.

…

It had him there. He’d been trying this whole time to tell himself that he was prepared, but if he was completely honest, he didn’t want to die.

It wasn’t fair. Why should he have to choose between dying and hurting someone else? In fact, why did changelings have to feed on emotion anyway?! Why couldn’t they just eat food like everyone else! ...Well, eat food and actually use it for nourishment, instead of just converting it to plasma.

He sighed. Changelings are a stupid species.

But this changeling is smart, a voice from the back of his mind whispered.

That’s… true, he mused.

Whether he was modest about it or not, he couldn’t deny the fact that the hive was free today because of his tactics. Maybe… he could think of something…

Impersonation was obviously off the table with the new scar on his face. That left using an original disguise, which was more than unfavorable. But maybe there was a rule he missed after all this time he’d been blotting the subject from his mind. He tried to think back to what Wooly said all those years ago... but the memories made him cringe.

Come on Fletcher, be a big colt and GET OVER IT! Your life is on the line now, he told himself.

He took in a long breath and let it out slowly, before allowing himself to think back to that horrible moment in Miss Cream Puff’s bathroom.

“Why didn’t you report that you were receiving love from someone?”

“Aren’t we supposed to gather love, Ba-tem?”

“Not with an original disguise, Bo-nem, not for this long. That pony is going to die because you let her give you too much love, and you didn’t tell These ones it was happening all this time.”

“W-what?”

“And now there’s nothing These ones can do because there is no real Roasted Chestnut to divert her love back to. This is why you need to report these things, Bo-nem!”

“No one ever told This one receiving love would kill anyone!”

“That’s why we usually abort and return the impersonated targets before the subjects get sick, or before they get attached to an original disguise.”

Fletcher’s eyes opened. ...not for this long...abort before they get attached… That meant there was a window of time!

But how could he know how long the window was? And how did his hivemates abort an original disguise when the situation arose?

“Your only hope of saving that filly, is if you somehow manage to wake her up… and get her to hate you...”

Of course! He’d be able to feel it if someone liked him too much, and he could always just cut the love stream off by making them hate him! He could do this! He could make it!

So he kept walking, this time with purpose, towards the Equestrian border. He had an extremely limited amount of love energy left, but like his brain had already calculated for him, he had just a little more than enough for one pony disguise. But once he used it he would be dangerously close to spent, and it would be anyone’s guess as to whether or not he would have the strength to get there. The question became: does he transform now and hope he manages to make it there, or does he get there first and hope he has enough energy left for a transformation?

…

He sighed and made the most minimal transformation he could: black fur, blue eyes, dark grey mane and tail, and a simple plus sign for a cutie mark. If he was going to die as a result of not having enough energy, he’d rather do it out in the middle of nowhere, than in a town with a perfectly good, yet unattainable, source of love sitting right in front of him.

Several hours later, here he was, plodding along on autopilot in the blistering heat. It was looking less and less like he was going to make it. He was on his last leg, and if memory served, which it usually did, he was still only ¾ of the way to the closest town.

“Huff*, huff*… so… tired…” he panted.

He collapsed with a thump.

“Huff*, huff*… sorry, Kiddo..... we tried. ...Looks like we’re going...... to take that nap after all,” he said to himself. He let out a sigh, as his tired and aching legs finally found rest.

But--

“Shhhh,” he whispered. “It’s okay now. Just sleep…”

Sleeeeeeep…

“Yes… sleep…”

His heavy eyelids slowly gave out, and enveloped his world in darkness.

“TRAITOR!”

“HOW COULD YOU!”

“WE TRUSTED YOU!”

“THE FOALINGS LOOKED UP TO YOU!”

Fletcher was on the same platform he’d addressed the hive from as the Alpha General, but this time, instead of an arbiter of hope, he was a scourge to Hive and Queen. He was chained upright to an X shaped stone, displaying him and his new mark of shame for all to see. His heart burned as the love he had felt from everyone all his life slowly changed to feelings of hurt, bitterness, and anger.

While the majority of the hive would shun traitors on their own, there would always be those few close ones that would have difficulty snuffing out their loyalty completely. Which was exactly what this ceremony was for. Since a Queen couldn’t feasibly stop every hive member from sharing any love with an exile, the more sensible solution was a spell that erased all the hive’s emotional signatures from the exile’s memory. Any one of them could walk right by him in disguise and, while he’d be able to detect that they were changelings, Fletcher wouldn’t be able to tell them apart from a changeling he’d never met.

The cruelest part of the spell and this ceremony was that for about a day or so, the exile would lose the ability to sense presences at all. Which meant Fletcher was about be truly alone for the first time in his life.

Tears ran down his left cheek in silence, his right eye no longer able to bear them. The room was filled with indignant cries of anger, and cruel heckling from changelings he had considered to be his family.

Mizer wasn’t there. He couldn’t bring himself to leave the discipline room when the other Elites dragged Fletcher here.

Fletcher could sense a few of the foalings, most of which didn’t understand what was going on, but had taken their cue from the anger they felt in the adults. Standing among them were three in particular, who weren’t directing any anger towards Fletcher. They were just lost and confused.

Fletcher heard their ping: Why?

His eyes squeezed shut, releasing streams of tears. They would never be told what really happened in that throne room. The only answer he had for them was love. Both as a ping, and the actual emotion, from the deepest part of his burning heart.

An attendant entered the stronghold and announced with a loud voice, “Her Majesty, Queen Atlas!”

The Elites next to Fletcher slipped a black bag over his head as the Queen entered the room and alighted on the platform before him.

“You have betrayed your Queen and this Hive, and you shall be cast out like the scum you are!” she shouted for all to hear. “Any last words?” she asked coldly.

Fletcher was quiet. He had no words for her, but he sent the rest of the hive two pings. Every one of them was told that he loved them, and that he would miss them.

The Queen didn’t wait in silence for long.

“Very well, Traitor.”

She turned to the hive and yelled, “No one speaks!”

She charged the spell, one of the cruelest in her arsenal, and fired it at Fletcher’s exposed stomach.

The spell itself wasn’t painful, but pain would no less be rearing its ugly head. Fletcher’s breathing quickened as everyone’s presence began to fade away.

“No.”

He pulled against the chains and shook his head, trying in vain to get the bag off so he could see them. Many presences disappeared completely, and he began to hyperventilate.

“No!”

The last presences left were those that had served as his beta generals(sans the Queen), a few from his various squadrons, and three little foalings. They all faded in turn, until the only one remaining was little Mint.

“No,” he breathed, “please no.”

The last thing he felt from her, was that she was scared... for him, until her presence too faded away into the darkness.

Fletcher thrashed around in agony, yanking against the chains.

“No, NO! Where are you!” he cried out.

No response. There was nothing but darkness.

He broke down and wept. For the first time in his life, Fletcher was afraid of the dark.

Wake up little love bug, it’s not your time yet.

“Mmm?.... What?” Fletcher mumbled groggily.

Up you get, Sweety~

“W-who...are you?” he muttered as his eyes blinked awake.

Fletcher gasped and his eyes went wide. He was still alive!

Wait, who was that?

He sat up and looked around.

“Hello?” he called out.

He had heard a mare’s voice, but there was noone around. The only living things within sensing range were lizards and various rodents. What was stranger still, was that he had energy. Not much, but enough to move with.

He should have been dead, though! This kind of thing didn’t just happen… at least, not to his recollection.

Hearing voices in his head, and miraculously still breathing with no source of love in the vicinity…

...could it be?

“Hello?” he called again. “F-Faust?”

A long moment’s pause... but no response.

Fletcher shook his head. Nonsense. Regardless of how it happened, he had more pressing things to worry about at the moment than changeling myths that may or may not exist.

He shakily got up to his hooves and continued on the path he was bound.

Several hours later, Fletcher finally stumbled into a small town. He leaned up against the first lamp post he saw and tried to catch his breath. He was feeling a little dizzy again, but at least he was here now.

As he looked around he saw several ponies in the streets, going about their business.

Never thought I’d find myself in a place like this again.

Now the question was, what should he do to get some love? He thought about all the techniques he’d been taught but never put into practice. Most of them seemed a little too risky for what he was trying to do.

Well, let’s just start simple then.

He got up and started walking down the street. The first pony he came across was a light orange mare. When they made eye contact, he gave her a friendly smile. Just before they passed, she smiled back.

Success!

It wasn’t a lot of energy by any means, but he’d forgotten just how much more potent love from a pony was. A smile from a hive-mate wouldn’t even be noticeable.

After a few more successful runs with mares, stallions, and foals alike, he decided to take it up a notch: compliments.

As he walked, he saw a purple mare up ahead with a well groomed, fuchsia mane and tail. She looked like an actual fuchsia flower. She was wearing a white sun hat with a ribbon that matched her mane.

Hmm, pretty. I can work with that.

As their eyes met, he smiled.

“Hello,” he greeted.

Her lips curled up a little.

“Hi.”

“I um… I like your hat. It works very well with your natural colors,” he said.

“Oh, thank you very much! I um… like your cutie mark?” she replied, obviously returning the compliment for the sake of it. “What does it mean?”

Fletcher’s mind went blank as he regarded his mark. A white plus sign, the most basic thing he could think of at the time that would still look like something. What does it mean? … And why didn’t I sort out any back story before now!

As far as he was aware, stallions that did nothing but math all day long weren’t very exciting to mares. That wouldn’t help him with his goal of being liked.

“Um… I’m a Doctor,” he answered.

The mare’s eyes lit up, and Fletcher felt her heart flutter.

“Really!?”

Uh oh. Too much! Abort! Abort!

“Yeah, but uh… unfortunately, not the kind that saves lives… I’m the uh… kind of Doctor that gives checkups after you… don’t make it,” he said, trying to sound somber.

Surely, working with dead ponies is a turn off, right?

“Oh dear. That must be really tough. Emotionally, I mean,” she replied with a sad look on her face.

Sympathy?! Shoot!

“No no, it’s not that big a deal…” he said, trying to wave it off.

Then again, he was talking about dead ponies. He couldn’t just play it off, lest he come off as heartless.

“...well, it is always tough when foals are brought in…”

Seriously, Brain? What part of “abort” did you not catch?

The mare’s brow furrowed with pity. “Awww. Do you need a hug?” she cooed.

WHAT?!

“Come ‘ere,” she said as she pulled him into an embrace.

No! What are you doing?! You just met me, you crazy pony! STAHP! Whoever said that ponies are mean was off their rocker! If anything, they’re way too friendly!

If the flow of love was anything to go by, the mare was feeling more fond and tender towards him by the minute! He had to break the flow.

Think! How do I make her hate me?

He thought back to the bratty foals that had been so cruel to him and Sugar all those years ago.

Right! Insults! Be mean!

Fletcher cleared his throat.

“Ahem. Um… your mother has so much girth, she was mistaken to be an Ursa Major,” he said hesitantly.

Fuchsia blinked. “Pardon me?”

“Um… fatty?”

...

Slap!

----------------------**:**------------------------

Several months had passed since his exile, and after a strenuous period of trial and error, Fletcher managed to find his own set of best practices. The most effective way of collecting love without getting too deep, was to have short and sweet interactions with as little talking as possible. The best method of the bunch, and his go-to method of choice, was hoofing out flowers to mares. It got him the most love for the time frame, and he didn’t even have to say anything at all! Mind you, he did sometimes, just to juice up the gesture with some off-the-cuff compliment or some flirting.

Most cases, the mares would blush and get flustered, and he’d feel their hearts flutter for the handsome mystery stallion for a few hours or even the rest of the day, but it was clear to all of them that he was hoofing them out to everyone, so thankfully he didn’t have to worry about too many issues with lasting crushes. Or at least, he’d figured out a few ways of resolving them without getting slapped. So all in all, the method worked pretty well.

He wouldn’t stay in any one town or city for very long, given that the trick would get old pretty fast. So he had to migrate between towns a lot. He also had to find creative ways to make a few bits here and there. He didn’t need much, but he had to buy flowers. He also began to collect a few books in a nice set of saddlebags that he’d bought, as well. He really enjoyed the opportunity to study new books that were unavailable to him until now.

Fletcher was currently on the road between towns, through a heavily wooded area that he had to admit was rather pretty, but he was eager to get to his destination. He’d been on the road for several days now, and he was exhausted. He was pretty sure his body would be switching to autopilot any minute now.

Suddenly, a black and grey blur came darting out from around the corner, and ran between his legs.

Fletcher blinked. Was that a raccoon... wearing a hat?…

I really AM tired.

“GET BACK HERE YOU LITTLE-- WHOA! LOOK OUT, MATE!”

“Oof!” Fletcher grunted, as a random stallion rounded the corner at top speed and collided with him. They hit the ground, and the contents of Fletcher’s saddle bags sprawled all over the place.

Sheesh Fletcher, wake up and get it together, would you?! You should have felt him coming from a mile away!

The stallion stood up, rubbing his head. “Ohhh,” he groaned. “I’m terribly sorry about that, Mate. I was trying to retrieve my belongings from that cheeky little thief, and here I am launching you ‘n’ yours all over the place,” he said as he helped Fletcher up and set about helping him gather his things.

The first thing Fletcher noticed was the stallion’s voice. It was rich and deep, with such a charming smoothness that one couldn’t help but feel at ease in his presence.

Oh ho ho, wow! The mares must LOVE you, Fletcher thought as he added the charming voice to his repertoire for later use someday.

The stallion was tall and slender, with blue fur and two shades of brown in his mane and tail. He was wearing a black travellers coat accented with gold braiding, which would surely match that wide brimmed hat Fletcher had seen earlier. He noticed that the stallion had some odd dark blue lines and markings strewn about his fur. An interesting birth pattern.

“No no, I’m sorry for getting in the way,” Fletcher apologized, trying his best to sound friendly. “I probably should have clued in when I saw the fashionable rodent run by… um, speaking of which… shouldn’t you be running after him if you want your hat back?” he asked.

The stallion waved it off. “Nah, don’t fret it, I KNOW WHERE HE LIVES,” he called after the critter. Before Fletcher could say anything, he explained, “Repeat offender.”

Fletcher smiled and shook his head as he collected his books and drawings and things. The stallion brought over the pile of things he had gathered, and they made direct eye contact for the first time.

That’s when the stallion froze suddenly. Fletcher felt the stranger’s emotions tense up, like he was preparing to defend himself from an attack. But then just as quickly, he relaxed again. The pony was still very alert although, and stared into Fletcher’s eyes intently.

“Um… is there something wrong?” Fletcher asked uneasily. He knew his disguise hadn’t failed or anything; he could feel the breeze in his fur... So what was this guy’s deal?

“Mmmm-no...” the stranger murmured distractedly, “...I suppose there isn’t…”

He was still staring into Fletcher’s eyes! His own eyes darting about slightly, like he was peering into a shop window or something. Then Fletcher felt him getting excited, as a small smile grew on his muzzle. A small stream of odd, paternal love started to come from him.

Okay… getting really uncomfortable here...

“The Prodigal Son returns...” the pony muttered.

“What was that?” Fletcher asked with a funny look.

The pony shook his head. “Oh nothing, nothing, forgive me.”

“Uh-huh... Well, I’m going to go this way now…” Fletcher said as he turned and walked away.

Crazy stallion.

Fletcher would have to do something to fix this Kook’s little red wagon later, if the stream of love didn’t fade on its own. His current disguise must have reminded the guy of some other pony.

“Ah, yes. Of course. Have a good day, Sir,” the stallion called after him as he watched him go. “I never thought I’d see the day,” he muttered to himself excitedly. “After all these years, Sis, I’ve actually found a diamond in the rough,” he said.

The stallion turned in the direction the little thief had gone, and saw a book on the ground that both he and the other pony had missed.

“Ah, seems we’ll be meeting again sooner than later, my friend.”

Once Fletcher made it into town, he headed straight for the first flower stand he could find and bought a dozen roses. He started off his meal by immediately hoofing one of them to the flower mare.

“Oh my! Thank you,” she said through a rising blush and a smile.

Fletcher’s only reply was a wink and a smile before he took his leave.

This town was providing some good results as Fletcher wandered down the streets. He was in the process of hoofing another rose to some mare, when a pair of rambunctious colts and a filly ran between them on their way down the street.

“Last one out to the quarry is a rotten apple!”

“Yeah but the first one’s gotta eat it!”

A tiny smile appeared on Fletcher’s face as he watched them go. They reminded him of three particular little foalings.

“Are you alright?”

Fletcher turned back to the mare he gave the rose to.

“Hmm? Of course, why do you ask?”

She pointed towards his face. “You’re crying.”

Fletcher blinked. He touched his face and looked at his hoof. Sure enough, there had been tears running down his cheek.

“Oh. ...It’s nothing,” he answered, as he sniffed and wiped the tears away. “I just miss my... um… nevermind.”

She gave a sad look, and was about to say something, when somepony called out from a ways up the road.

“Hey there!”

The mare looked up to see a waving stallion approaching. Fletcher didn’t bother, he knew exactly who it was, and he groaned internally.

Great, Crazy’s back.

He could still feel that weird paternal love coming off him as the stallion trotted up to them with a friendly smile.

“I’m glad I ran into you. There was one last book you forgot,” the stallion said as Fletcher’s book was pulled out of the pony’s saddle bag by a silvery aura and passed over to him.

Fletcher looked down at the book with surprise. ‘The Art of the Golden Mean.’ He was in the middle of that one.

That was… nice of him, Fletcher thought. He felt bad now for thinking unkindly of him.

“Um, thank you,” he said as he took the book. “Mister…”

The stallion held out his hoof. “Dizzy Spell.”

Fletcher blinked. Dizzy Spell? Is he a drunkard or something?

He tried to steal a glance at the stallion’s cutie mark, but unfortunately it was covered up by his traveler’s coat, so Fletcher just held out his own hoof in kind, and shook.

“Urban Myth,” he lied. “I see you’ve tracked down your haaa”, the word caught on his tongue as Fletcher’s brain did a double take. He shook his head in disbelief. “Wait a second! How did you do that just now?!” he asked, holding up his book. “You don’t have a horn!”

Thinking back on it, Fletcher realized the stallion had used magic before as well, when he helped him pick up his things. Yet even now, as he stared directly at the pony’s forehead, there was no horn to be seen, and there was no way a horn could be concealed under that hat.

Dizzy chuckled. “I get that alot,” he replied. He lifted his hat off and pulled his mane back from his forehead, revealing a stub lying almost flush against his skull. “It was broken a while back. Can’t do as much as I used to, but I’ve managed to rehabilitate it enough to be able to pull off the basics,” he explained. Then he turned and addressed the mare next to them. “‘Hello there, Lolly, Darling.”

Fletcher noticed the mare’s emotional signature turn a little rosier as she responded with a smile. “Hi Dizzy.”

“Weather’s a little nippy this afternoon, wouldn’t you say? Are you chilly at all without any garments?” he asked.

Fletcher’s ears perked up. It was warm out today. He knew about Dizzy, but if she felt cold, he needed to know about it. To his relief, Lolly gave a confused look.

“What are you talking about, Dizzy? It’s like, 28 degrees out. I was just going to get a frozen yogurt,” she said, pointing down the road.

Dizzy chuckled again. “Just making sure you’re paying attention, Silly,” he said as he booped her nose.

Fletcher raised an eyebrow. He’s… not lying...

Lolly’s cheeks went bright red.

“You’re silly!” she cried as she pushed Dizzy’s hoof away with a flustered shove. “I spaced out one time and you won’t let me forget it!” she whined.

Dizzy’s brows furrowed. “Lolly Dear, you were so out of it, that you didn’t even notice when a waitress spilled an entire pot of boiling tea on you,” he said condescendingly.

Fletcher blinked. Wow.

Smoke was coming off Lolly’s cheeks at this point.

“It was still just one time!” she cried indignantly.

Fletcher couldn’t help but chuckle along as Dizzy laughed again.

That’s when Fletcher sensed something that made his heart stop.

Off in the direction the foals had run earlier, Fletcher felt their emotions immediately transition from joy and pleasure, to pure horror. What was more, there was another presence with them, but its emotions were a lot more primal and difficult to read. It was either angry or…

...hungry.

Without a word, Fletcher took off in their direction like a dart.

Dizzy and Lolly blinked. “Hey, where are you going?” Lolly called after him. “You dropped your saddlebags!” She turned to Dizzy. “What was that about?”

Dizzy’s lips skewed in thought. “Hmm. You think maybe he knows something we don’t?” he asked with a knowing smile.

Fletcher thanked his lucky star that he disguised himself as a pegasus today, as he soared towards the foals’ location as fast as his wings could carry him. His path took him beyond the outskirts of town, but up ahead he could see a really wide pit. It had to be the ‘quarry’ they were talking about. As he approached close enough to see over the edge, Fletcher almost jumped out of his skin.

“WHOA! JEEZE!” he cried as he ducked down out of sight.

Down in the pit was a massive scorpion! It easily stood as tall as a house, and that’s not including the tail arching overhead! Just the barb of the stinger segment alone was as long as he was. Fletcher peeked over the boulders crowning the edge of the pit. He couldn’t see the foals with his eyes, but he could tell that they had ducked under a formation of stones, which the scorpion was currently beating upon with its tail. Even from this close, Fletcher could just barely hear their cries for help. He didn’t want to think about what would have happened if he couldn’t feel them.

With every strike, the formation rattled. It definitely wouldn’t last long at this rate. Heart pounding, he ducked back down again, pressing his back against the boulder as he tried to think.

Scorpions… scorpions…

Fletcher took a long breath, and time slowed to a halt as he tuned out his surroundings. In the darkness of his mind’s eye, he visualised the creature before him.

Target has eight legs, providing a wide, sturdy stance. It is armed with large pincers and a venomous tail; contact with either of which will compromise the mission at hoof... avoid at all costs.

Location of eyes and ears: unknown.

Other weak points: unknown.

Range of motion: unknown.

Strike behaviors: unknown.

Insufficient information to predict target’s movements. Engaging target is ill-advised.

“Curses!” Fletcher growled through his teeth. He hated not having information. He turned back over the boulder and peered down at his adversary. Ill-advised or not, he wasn’t leaving those foals. He’d have to take a more… improvised approach.

He kicked off his assault by throwing his voice to make it sound like it was coming from the other end of the quarry.

“HEY! UGLY!” he yelled.

Contrary to his hope, the scorpion didn’t stop to investigate. In fact, it didn’t even show signs of having heard him at all. It simply kept beating on the foals’ shelter.

Fletcher’s eyes narrowed in confusion. He took a deep breath and let out the screech of a dragon, coming from overhead.

Nothing.

Great. Either scorpions don’t have ears, or I just found a deaf one.

He wouldn’t be able lure it off with just his voice. Fletcher turned and grabbed a boulder about the size of a large pumpkin, and flapped his wings hard. It took awhile to take off, but he eventually managed to maneuver the load over the scorpion’s head. He let go of the rock and gave it an extra kick. He held his breath as the boulder connected… only to watch it bounce off the scorpion’s head with all the effect of a pingpong ball.

Fletcher’s ears fell.

...and it has armor thicker than a fortress wall.

While the small boulder didn’t so much as scratch the scorpion’s plated armor, it did succeed in getting its attention. The scorpion stopped what it was doing and looked up at him. It gave an experimental swing of the tail in his direction, but seeing that the offender was nowhere near its range, it simply ignored him and went about beating the formation again.

Fletcher was relieved, and somewhat insulted, but it gave him a relative idea of the tail’s range, and it also told him something important. It may not have ears, but it just ‘looked up’ at him, which confirmed to him that it had to have some sort of eyes… somewhere. He had to get closer.

He circled around a few times, as close as he dared, trying to find anything that resembled eyes, when he noticed something odd. Smack dab in the center of the top of its head was what looked like a sphere, but upon closer inspection, he noticed there was a subtle division between two little ovoids.

Are those seriously your eyes? How do you get any depth perception with them back to back like that?

Then again, he had to remember that it was deaf, so it probably wasn’t a stretch to believe it had poor eyesight as well.

Works for me, he thought with a wolfish grin. Deploy CT 46.

He gained some altitude before breaking into a dive bomb. Flipping at the last second, he extended his hind hoof.

Take this!

BAM!

“Ack!” Fletcher grunted.

Right at the last second, the scorpion had randomly shifted, just enough for Fletcher to miss the eyes… and hit that fortress wall of a shell.

Ssssss, blasted ponies and their stupid leg bones!

The scorpion froze and took notice of him, anger seeping into its emotional presence. Fletcher wasn’t about to give it time to react, though. He flipped again and dropped his other heel down on its eyes like an axe. The giant beast screeched in pain, and Fletcher high tailed it out of there before it started blindly swiping at the area above its head.

Target successfully blinded.

...or so he thought, because it suddenly faced directly towards him and took a swing. Fletcher managed to narrowly avoid the poison barb, but the bulky stinger segment still sent him crashing to the ground. He shakily got up on his hooves and looked up to see six, furious, glowing red eyes boring down at him.

Ah, there’s your depth perception.

Fletcher took wing again, just before another strike landed.He realised he hadn’t seen these eyes at the front of the scorpion’s head because they were set underneath a protruding ridge of shell.

Those will be tougher to get at.

He scanned over his enemy’s body for other options, and his gaze landed on its leg joints.

Its eight legs together give it a sturdy stance, but individually they look rather small in proportion to its body. Perhaps they’re weak.

He could try to immobilize it. It couldn’t do anything to him or the foals if it couldn’t move. All it would take was eight good shots to the joints.

Wait, not even. Just enough to impede its movement while we run away. Three on one side ought to do it.

Fletcher flew up and pushed over a pile of rocks, sending a rockslide toward the monster’s face. As it shielded itself with its massive pincers, Fletcher darted around behind it. He landed against the rock face of the quarry wall, coiling his hind legs to launch himself and attack the first leg, but the moment he connected with the wall, the scorpion’s tail swung down toward him.

“Woah!” he yelled as he dove out of the way.

BAM!

Fletcher looked up at its front to find that it was still covering its face.

Wait a sec, I thought you were deaf.

The scorpion shoved the rocks away from its face and began turning towards him. Fletcher adjusted himself to stay behind it. He threw his voice again, but like before, there was no response. He grabbed a rock and threw it off to the side. The moment the rock collided with something the scorpion struck towards it.

Vibrations.

The scorpion wasn’t fooled for long though, and it suddenly turned towards him with an angry glare.

Uh oh...

Unbeknownst to Fletcher, there was a certain pony watching his efforts from the ridge above. Dizzy Spell had set two pairs of saddle bags next to a boulder, and like a lazy panther on a tree bough, was casually strewn along the quarry’s edge, resting his chin on folded fore-limbs and watching with curious scrutiny.

What are you doing, Mate?

It seemed quite odd for an individual to suddenly drop everything and bolt like they left the oven on, only to run out of town and have a sparing match with the first creature they came across. Lifting himself up to his hooves, the stallion closed his eyes and took a long breath through his nose. Then with a grunt, he slammed a hoof into the ground. The stallion remained completely still for several moments, until he finally looked up with an amused smile.

Well, well, well, look at you. Risking your life to save a bunch of pony foals. And with nopony to make a show of it for, no less. You really are a diamond in the rough, aren’t you Mr. Fletcher?

He sighed and laid his hat on his saddle bags.

Well, can’t leave everything up to the little do-gooder now, can I?

He took a deep breath and called out, “HEY MYTH, WHAT HAVE YOU GOTTEN YOURSELF INTO DOWN THERE?”

Fletcher’s ears perked up as he heard someone’s voice. Before now, he’d been too distracted to notice the extra presence lingering at the quarry’s ridge. After avoiding a swipe, he spared a glance up and saw the stallion from before, casually waving for his attention as if the scene playing out in front of him was in no way urgent or life threatening.

“YOU GOT THRILL ISSUES OR WHAT, MATE?” Dizzy called out.

Fletcher grit his teeth. “I’M NOT DOING THIS BECAUSE IT’S FUN, YOU CLODHOPPER!” he called back. He pointed to the rock formation. “THERE ARE THREE FOALS UNDER THOSE ROCKS, AND TINY HERE IS TRYING TO MAKE A MEAL OUT OF THEM!”

“OH DEAR! THAT’S CERTAINLY NOT GOOD,” Dizzy feigned surprise. “TELL YOU WHAT, MATE: YOU KEEP ITS ATTENTION OVER THAT WAY, AND I’LL SEE WHAT I CAN DO ABOUT GETTING THE FOALS TO SAFETY,” the stallion instructed.

Fletcher ducked under another swipe. “GREAT, FANTASTIC, JUST HURRY!” Fletcher yelled back. “AND TREAD LIGHTLY! THIS THING SENSES VIBRATIONS,” he warned, then flew off, trying to lead the scorpion away from the formation.

Thank goodness, Fletcher thought. Now he didn’t have to worry about trying to immobilize it. He just had to buy time. Flying away would be easy enough once the foals were safe.

He pushed rock piles over as he retreated, trying to slow the monster down while keeping its attention on him. Fletcher managed to steadily lure the creature into another section of the quarry, out of view of the foals’ shelter. Now he just had to pester it so it wouldn’t lose interest.

He flew in wide arcs around the scorpion, grabbing rocks and swooping in periodically to chuck them at its face. The scorpion would simply deflect them with its claws, then try to take a swipe at him with the stinger, but it rarely even came close.

Fletcher dove in for another dive bomb, but this time he wasn’t quick enough to get out of the way. Landing on a high stack of boulders, he looked back to see that he’d been grazed down the side, from his shoulder to his flank. Thankfully he hadn’t been stabbed, but he could already feel a tingling in his left side. He stepped forward, but to his astonishment, his left foreleg had already lost enough sensation to no longer be able to sustain his weight. Like trying to lean on a pool noodle toy, his effort led him tumbling off the rock pile… right into the path of the scorpion.

Fletcher looked up into its furious eyes. Seeing the monster’s intention, he used his good legs to shove himself out of the way of the oncoming strike. If such a small dose of venom had affected him so drastically, he definitely wouldn’t stand a chance if he took a real sting. He was already beginning to see colors that had no business being in a rock quarry; lime-green and purple to name a few.

The scorpion’s stinger was embedded in the ground, and as it tried to wrench it out, Fletcher tried to get to his hooves and take off, but his left wing had already gone numb and his other legs were getting weak. He started seeing double, and stumbled to the ground again. To his horror, Fletcher saw the scorpion free itself and prepare for another strike. He desperately tried to get his limbs to respond, but he wasn’t getting so much as a twitch as feedback. Fletcher looked back up at his executioner with terror. There was nothing he could do.

This is it.

He winced as he waited for the final blow.

Please don’t waste your second chance kids…

Boom!

…

Fletcher couldn’t feel anything... which told him he must have gone completely numb. He was afraid to look. He didn’t think he could handle the sight.

“You need some help, Mate?” a voice suddenly asked him.

Fletcher’s eyes shot open in surprise. They blearily made out the image of a stallion standing before him, holding back the massive stinger segment with a single hoof! And he was smiling at him! As if he weren’t doing anything more strenuous than holding back an angry bunny!

“D-Dizzy? How’d you……... h-how did you…….. do the…... t-thing?” Fletcher stuttered in shock.

Dizzy gave a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry about it, Mate. Just stay down and concentrate on breathing. I’ll take care of everything.” He turned back to face the scorpion with an amused smirk. “Sorry, Beastie, but I’m afraid I’m going to have to put you down. I can’t leave a dangerous little tick like you roaming around this close to ponies.”

The scorpion snarled and screeched at the impossibly small, yet unwavering obstacle.

“Oh, quit your whining you overgrown mousetrap! I’d relocate you if I thought for a moment you’d stay put! Besides, you’ve clearly had a good run. What’s it been? A century? More?” Dizzy asked with a chuckle.

Screeching, the scorpion pulled its tail back to strike again. That’s when something strange happened... More-so than a stallion being able to stop a giant scorpion tail with a single hoof.

Just as the tail reached its apex, Dizzy suddenly... appeared, suspended above the scorpion’s head.

Fletcher blinked. W-wasn’t he just…

Then Fletcher thought he saw a faded trail of multicolored duplicates of the stallion, leading from where he used to be, to where he was now. Dizzy wound up for a punch, and struck the beast smack-dab in the center of the head. He hit it so hard that it seemed to break the rules of the universe, because the scorpion’s head slammed into the ground so quickly, and with so much force, it was as if an invisible mountain was dropped on its head.

Fletcher even felt a shockwave breeze past him. He blinked and shook his head. The venom was definitely messing with him. The next thing he knew, Dizzy had approached him, pulled one of Fletcher’s forelegs over his neck, and was trying to lift him up.

“...ou still with me, Mate? Can you hear me?” the stallion asked, jostling him a little.

Fletcher’s response was a slurred moan, “Mmmmmmmmmm, I… think?...” he mumbled. His head was swimming.

“Can you walk at all?” Dizzy asked.

Fletcher was quiet for a second...

“Mmmmonkeyyyy…” he finally muttered.

“Well, that’s a ‘no’,” Dizzy muttered to himself as he urgently shuffled under the pegasus and shifted him onto his back. “It’s just as well,” he said as he broke into a full gallop, “I can get you there much quicker this way.”

Fletcher feebly tried to hold up his head. “Where… where you taking…” he trailed off as his head dropped back down on his savior’s shoulder.

“To Mossy Mare’s. Good friend. Better herbalist,” Dizzy answered as he scaled the quarry wall. “She’ll be able to help you much quicker than the Doctors at the hosp--”

Fletcher blacked out before he could catch the rest of the stallion’s words.

Fletcher groaned as he slowly regained consciousness. He opened his eyes to find… a raccoon wearing a hat?

He shook his head and rubbed his eyes, but when he looked up again the rodent was gone.

Ooooookay?

As Fletcher looked around, he noted that he was lying in the center of what appeared to be a log cabin, on a comfortably thick shag rug with a blanket over his back. He noticed his saddlebags sitting in the corner, but what really caught his attention, however, was the unsettling fact that he was receiving a new stream of love from a presence he didn’t recognise, somewhere beyond one of the walls.

He suddenly heard chittering, from what he could only presume was the raccoon.

“Oh, he’s up? Thanks, Milo,” came a sweet voice from behind a wall.

Fletcher looked up as a mare with green eyes, brown fur, and a green mane ‘n’ tail walked in, with the raccoon perched on her withers. The first thing Fletcher noticed was the gentle expression in her eyes that accompanied her pleasant smile.

Wow. He blinked. You must be the one who cured me. Don’t worry, I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe from me.

“Good morning. How are you feeling?” she asked.

“Um… *ahem*, I’m fine,” he said bluntly, trying to sound abrasive. It was completely lost on the mare however, because she simply gave a bigger smile.

“That’s great! Your recovery was actually pretty astounding. Bouncing back from that degree of poisoning in just four days is rather unheard of,” she mused.

“Four days!?” Fletcher yelped. He bolted out from under the blanket and grabbed her head, frantically brushing her mane aside and holding her ears down to look behind them.

Amazingly, there was no trace of any blue crystals forming. Ignoring her surprised, and rather rosey expression, he moved on to feel around her neck and shoulders.

“Aren’t you cold?” he asked, puzzled.

The mare was bewildered by the odd behavior, but she smiled regardless.

“Mmm nope. I’m quite comfortable really,” she answered. “Wait, are you cold?” she asked with concern.

Fletcher shook his head in disbelief. This didn’t make any sense.

“N-... no… I’m okay…” Fletcher muttered distractedly.

She was about to say something more when suddenly, they heard the front door open.

“Mossy, I’m back!” came a call from the hallway.

Fletcher froze. The memories of the fight with the scorpion were fresh in his mind. That stallion isn’t normal, he thought as he subconsciously backed away from the presence. Hallucinogens or not, there’s no way a stallion could take down something that big on his own like that.

“Hi Dizzy!” the mare chirped. “Guess who’s up?”

The raccoon made a subtle get-a-way as Dizzy came into the cabin proper. The stallion’s eyes lit up when he saw their patient in question.

“Ah! He wakes!” he said excitedly. “How are you feeling, Mr. Myth?”

Fletcher’s throat dried up as he stared back in silence. A nod was the only response he was able to manage.

“I see you’ve met Mossy Mare already,” Dizzy beamed and gestured toward said mare. “It’s thanks to her mastery of herbalism, and T.L.C. over the last few days that you’re still alive.”

“It’s Evergreen, actually,” she corrected. “Dizzy likes his nicknames.” She shot the stallion a wry smile before brushing a lock of hair behind her ear and extended a hoof to Fletcher. “It’s nice to finally meet you formally, Mr. Urban Myth,” she said with a smile.

“Nice to meet you... Ms. Evergreen,” Fletcher said quietly. “Thank you for all your help, and while I am indeed indebted to you…” Fletcher paused and took a deep breath.

Evergreen shared a puzzled look with Dizzy, before looking back to him.

“You smell like pine and your mother dresses you funny!” Fletcher blurted out.

Evergreen blinked, more so out of surprise than offence. “Um... what?” she asked in confusion.

“Pffffft, Ah hahahahahahaha...” Dizzy laughed.

Fletcher and Evergreen both turned to him in confusion.

“Hahaha... sorry... *ahem* He’s trying to protect you, Mossy,” Dizzy explained. Then he made direct eye contact with their guest. “It’s alright, Fletcher. You won’t hurt her,” he said with a knowing smile.

Fletcher’s heart stopped.

He...he knows... How does he know?

Fletcher’s brain started going into emergency lockdown.

Red alert! Red alert! False identity compromised!

Single known entryway is blocked by primary threat; do not attempt.

Room has two visible windows.

Window one is blocked by primary threat; do not attempt.

Window two is blocked by minimal thre--

Fletcher’s train of thought halted as he regarded Evergreen.

Subject is still victim to love stream…

Do not abandon...

Evergreen gave Dizzy a confused look.

“He’s trying to protect me... with silly insults?” She giggled. “Protect me from what?”

“From the same thing that happened to a certain Sugar, I’d imagine,” the stallion answered.

Fletcher’s ear twitched. A small yelp escaped from Evergreen as he suddenly grabbed her in a hostage hold, his hooves poised to snap her neck.

“D-don’t move!” he yelled at the stallion, his attempt at being intimidating foiled by his quivering. Fletcher couldn’t be sure how much of what he saw that day was real and how much was just a trick of the poison, but the one thing he knew for sure was that the pony in front of him was capable of impossible things, including unnatural speed. There’s no way a normal stallion could have taken that scorpion out on his own. “H-how? How do you know her name? How do you know my name?! There shouldn’t be a single pony alive or dead that knows my name!” he yelled hysterically, backing closer and closer to the window behind him.

Dizzy’s reaction was not one that Fletcher was expecting. There wasn’t an ounce of panic, or even concern, on his face or in his emotional signature. He didn’t even look angry. He simply stepped forward with a calming gesture.

“It’s alright, Fletcher. You have nothing to worry about. Everything is going to be okay,” the stallion said with a soothing tone.

Evergreen nonchalantly blew a lock of her mane out of her face. “I thought you said his name was Urban Myth?” she questioned.

Why are you two so calm?! Who are you people?

Dizzy shook his head. “No, that was the alias he was using. Based on his reaction, I’d say I guessed his real name correctly, though,” he said with a chuckle.

“Guessed?!” Fletcher yelled indignantly.

“Well, it was either Fletcher, Woolly, or Mizer, given that those were the most prominent male names,” the stallion answered.

Fletcher was flat out trembling now, shaking his head in disbelief. “W-who are you? H-how do you know those names?” he all but whimpered. Fletcher’s attention was suddenly pulled to Evergreen gently petting his foreleg, even as it constrained her neck. He noticed her emotional signature had no fear in it at all, but rather, it was full of sympathy, and brimming with compassion.

“Did he ever look you in the eyes?” she asked.

Fletcher shot her a confused glance. “What?”

Evergreen gestured toward Dizzy with a nod. “When you first met him, did you ever look him directly in the eye?” she clarified.

Fletcher thought back to when he first came across the stallion, and that weird moment when the guy stared into his skull like a foal at a toy shop window.

“You… you read my memories?” he whimpered, backing closer to the window.

“No, no, that’s not quite it,” the stallion answered calmly. “I don’t tell many folks this, but my real name is Discerning Spell. I don’t have the ability to read minds,” he clarified. Then he added with a chuckle, “Else I would have known which of those names was yours right off the bat. What I can do, is discern what is in somepony’s heart: desires, fears, character, basically who they are on the inside, including their true identity in some cases,” he added with a nod in Fletcher’s direction, “all by looking through their eyes,” he explained.

Fletcher blinked. Well that’s a new one… if it’s true.

“That doesn’t explain how you got those names,” he pointed out angrily.

“You’re right,” the stallion agreed before continuing. “Everypony has a few events or individuals that were so influential in their lives, the names and images get repeated over and over again in their minds. This constant repetition causes the names and images to be carved into their soul, at which point, they become as visible to me as the rest of their character.”

Fletcher narrowed his eyes on him as he monitored the stallion’s emotional presence. …He’s not lying…

“‘Fletcher’, ‘Mizer’, and ‘Woolly’ were the most prominent male names that had positive affiliations with them. I saw a few other names, like ‘Jazz’, but the emotions affiliated with them appeared to have a more paternal nature, so I doubted any of their names belonged to you,” Dizzy explained. “I’m sure you recognise those names given that they’re so close to you?”

Fletcher didn’t answer. He just closed his eyes and took a long, deep breath. Finally, he looked back up at him.

“How many soldiers have you got on the way?” he asked.

Dizzy blinked. Then his expression softened into an understanding look. He shook his head and extended a hoof to Fletcher as he stepped forward. “There are no soldiers, Fletcher. I’m not--”

“Stay back!” Fletcher cut him off. “Don’t you dare come any closer! D-don’t even move!” he screamed. Faust only knew how fast that stallion could move if he gave him the chance. “Now you listen here! All I want to do is disappear. I don’t want to hurt anypony. So I’m going to leave now and I’m taking her with me for insurance. You follow us; I kill her. You stay away; I let her go... once I’ve made sure that the stream is severed. Then you’ll never hear from me again. Understand?”

Dizzy sighed as he lowered his head and closed his eyes. A soft smile formed on his lips.

Such a good colt you are.

“None of that is necessary, Fletcher. Your ‘stream’ won’t hurt her. Look behind her ears. She’s been caring for you for the last four days, but you won’t find anything developing back there.”

Fletcher blinked. He glanced at Evergreen, before looking back at the stallion. “How do you know about all that?” he asked.

Dizzy gave a warm smile. “I’m a scholar, and at one time I made it a point to learn all I could about your species so I would know how to help afflicted ponies if I needed to.”

Fletcher winced at the word ‘afflicted’, but he pressed on. “How did you stop the side effects?”

“When I brought you here, I let Mossy know from the start that you were a changeling,” Dizzy continued.

Fletcher’s eyes widened as he stared at her in surprise. “And that didn’t bother you?!” he asked in bewilderment.

Evergreen giggled. “Don’t worry, Fletcher,” she assured him as she continued to stroke his foreleg. “I may not have ever seen a changeling before, but I know you’re not dangerous,” she said. “Ooooh, speaking of which...” she added as she tapped her hooves together excitedly, “...I’ve been dying to see what you really look like ever since he told me!”

Fletcher raised an eyebrow at her. “Changelings regularly abduct and impersonate ponies to harvest emotions from their loved ones. What makes you think I’m not dangerous?” he asked. He wasn’t, but how could she know that?

Evergreen simply smiled. “I never said changelings aren’t dangerous. I only said I know you aren’t. Dizzy wouldn’t have brought you to my home if you were,” she said confidently.

Fletcher looked up at the stallion. This stranger seemed to know him better than his own Queen ever did, even enough to vouch for him wholeheartedly. That paternal love stream made slightly more sense now.

Moving on its own accord, Fletcher’s body slowly released Evergreen, and brought them both back down to their hooves. He stared at Dizzy in silence. After a second, he shook his head. “Wait, what does telling her about me have to do with preventing the side effects?” he asked.

Dizzy brushed his mane aside and pulled his ear down for Fletcher to see. There were no crystals there either. “Most ponies don’t know it, but emotions, such as love, are much more tangible than they realise. Of course, I probably don’t need to convince you of that,” Dizzy began.

Fletcher gave a brief nod. Well yes, that isn’t really news to us. Although hearing it from a non-empath was a little surprising.

“Shared emotions, whether between soul-mates, family, friends, what have you, are actually very low lying magics, invisible to all but few. Yet, even we can detect small subtleties. The ‘atmosphere’ in a room for example, is highly affected by the emotions of those within it. Music is very powerful because of its ability to affect low lying magic and change one’s emotions from one state to another. But I digress.

“Your question has to do with the fact that, as a magic, emotions are very sensitive to the will which they were derived from. Which means, that when the emotion or magic is taken in by somepony it wasn’t meant for... well, let’s just say it doesn’t like that too much. The result is a bit of an imbalance, and it attempts to compensate for that imbalance by pulling energy. Unfortunately, the only source it can pull from is the individual it was derived from, which in turn makes the imbalance even worse, compounding the problem. The energy pulled starts off in the form of heat, but eventually, as the imbalance grows, it begins to pull life energy as well. Since the affliction is magic based rather than biological, a build up of crystals usually begins to form on the body,” the stallion explained.

Fletcher tilted his head side to side as he mulled the information over. It was all sound, and certainly better explained than anything he’d heard before. “Alright, but how did telling her prevent that ‘imbalance’ from happening?” he asked.

“Well, despite there being a pegasus on her rug, she knew you were a changeling, which meant that any emotion she felt towards you, was meant for you,” Dizzy answered as he drew a circle in the air and pointed at him.

Fletcher’s heart skipped a beat as realisation hit him. His plot sank to the floor.

“Y-...you mean to say… I… I could have saved her?...” he whispered.

Dizzy moved to reach for his shoulder. “Fletcher--”

Fletcher has holding his temples and shaking his head frantically.

“I could have saved her… I… I wanted to show her, WHY DIDN’T I SHOW HER?!”

“FLETCHER!” Dizzy yelled over his hysterics.

Fletcher suddenly realised that the stallion had walked over and grabbed his forehooves, keeping his head still, his eyes now inches away from his own.

“Don’t do this to yourself, my friend,” he consoled him. “There’s no way you could have known.”

“B-but I… oh Sugar... forgive me,” he breathed, tears streaming from his good eye.

Dizzy pulled him into an embrace as the poor changeling trembled in anguish. Evergreen circled around and hugged Fletcher from behind.

“It’s alright, Fletcher. It wasn’t your fault,” the stallion whispered. “You never would have hurt her if you could help it. Nocteous and Galaxia themselves would hold you blameless. No child should ever have to go through what you did.”

For a long time, Fletcher wept, and his new caretakers simply held him. For the first time since meeting them, he accepted their streams of love without apprehension.

After a while, he looked up with a sniff and wiped his eyes. “Who are Nocteous and Galaxia?” he asked.

Dizzy smiled. “Well, I’m sure you’ve heard of Galaxia already…”

At Fletcher’s puzzled look, he clarified, “Faust.”

Fletcher blinked.

“‘Galaxia’, ‘Faust’, ‘Epona’, ‘Alpha’, ‘Creator’... all titles for the same Goddess,” Dizzy explained.

Fletcher blinked again. “You mean… she’s real?” he asked incredulously.

Dizzy chuckled. “Of course, Mate.”

“So she was the one who saved me,” Fletcher muttered.

Dizzy and Evergreen tilted their heads.

“What do you mean?” Dizzy asked.

Fletcher explained, “After my banishment, I was trudging through the badlands on the verge of death. I eventually ran out of energy and lost consciousness. By all accounts, I should have died right then and there, but I woke up to the voice of some mare who called me ‘love bug’ and said things like: it wasn’t my time yet…”

Dizzy’s eyes widened. Love bug?!

“...and suddenly I had enough #i%m$e& to move again, but there wasn’t a soul around for miles! That must have been Her, right?” Fletcher asked expectantly.

Dizzy shook his head and shrugged. “Who can say?” he answered. “Please excuse me for just a moment, won’t you? Just going to get some firewood, I’ll be back,” he said as he quietly headed for the door.

“Um… sure?” Fletcher answered, casting a puzzled glance towards Evergreen.

The mare in question however, was too busy rubbing her ears.

“Sorry, you had enough what now?”

Dizzy stepped out onto the deck and closed the door behind him. He took in a deep breath of the cool Spring air, and looked up at the sky.

I see. So you discovered him well before I did, huh Sis? Of course. I’m sure you’ve been following this particular ‘love bug’ for a while now, haven’t you. He chuckled...then fell silent.

...It’s such a relief to finally know for certain that you’ve been exalted, Sister... but I can’t help feeling it’s a bit unfair to hear you’ve spoken to another, yet you still withhold your voice from me, even after all these years.

He sniffed and wiped his eye.

Sorry, he chuckled. I know that’s selfish.

…

I miss you so much, Sis.

…

He wiped his eyes again and put a smile back on his face. Give Galaxia and Nocteous a hug for me won’t you?

Fletcher returned Evergreen’s puzzled look, until he realised what she was referring to.

“Right. Sorry. I forgot there isn’t really a word for that in Equish. Give me a second.” He rubbed the back of his head as he tried to think of an appropriate translation. Changelings were the only ones that took sustenance from emotion, so theirs was the only language that had a word with which to refer to it.

“Hmm, I suppose the most appropriate translation would be love energy, since it is the ‘energy’ we need for our bodies and magic to function, and because we get it from various forms of ‘love’,” he explained.

Understanding washed over the mare’s expression. “How do you pronounce it in your language again?” she asked.

Fletcher let out a guttural, yet melodic noise.

Evergreen blinked, an ear twitching. “Um, one more time?”

“#i%m$e&.”

Evergreen’s ears flopped. It sounded like he was speaking in an echoey canyon, underwater, and while running toward and away from her, all at the same time.

“Um, once more? Maybe a little slower?” she asked timidly.

Fletcher chuckled, and patiently repeated himself. “#iiiimr^ssss.”

Evergreen’s face scrunched as she strained to catch it. She finally attempted a guess. “Limress?”

Fletcher smiled. “I think that’s as close as you’re going to get without a changeling’s vocal system.”

Evergreen smiled. Then she tapped her fore-hooves together with a sheepish look. “So, um… speaking of which...”

Fletcher’s ears fell. “You want to see what I look like,” he said flatly.

She nodded fast with a big grin. “I’ve been really excited ever since Dizzy told me,” she admitted. “I’m an expert with all things nature, but I’ve never seen or heard of a changeling before.”

Fletcher raised an eyebrow. I’m not a fig tree, he thought indignantly, but he let it go. He was too anxious about the other matter. Fletcher rubbed his foreleg uneasily. He had a feeling she was going to be sorely disappointed, if not utterly disgusted, when she finally saw the creature behind the mask.

“I’m… reeeeally different,” he said, rubbing the back of his head and looking away. “Are you sure you want to see this?”

She nodded vigorously again. “I won’t laugh or anything, I promise,” she said.

Fletcher snorted. Laughter is the last thing I’m worried about. He sighed. “Alright, just… give me a moment. It’s been drilled into every fiber of my being to not do what I’m about to, so just… bare with me,” he said.

Evergreen nodded understandingly. “Take your time.”

Fletcher took in a deep breath, and let it out slowly. The voice in his head repeated the rule to him.

Do not reveal yourself.

Thanks brain, I know. He told it, as he began to focus on the process of releasing his disguise.

Do not rev--

Shut up! he yelled internally, but the words just kept repeating themselves over and over. He sighed. He would really have to work for it if he was going to force himself. His eyes squeezed shut, and after a few short breaths to prime himself, he rammed into his psychological barrier with a growl, and dispelled his disguise in a veil of flames.

…

He swiveled his ears forward, listening, but he couldn’t hear any sort of reaction from Evergreen. He chanced a peek.

“Oh.”

Fletcher winced.

“No wait, open your eyes again,” she said.

He looked up at her with surprise, and saw her gazing at him with awe.

“You have really pretty eyes, Fletcher,” she finally said. She took a step to approach him, but then stopped herself. “Um… may I?” she asked.

He stared at her in bewilderment, but found himself nodding all the same. His eyes followed her as she walked around him, picking up his forelegs to look at his holes, stroking his gossamer wings, and tapping different areas of his chitin to feel the hardness and softness of different areas. Circling around to the front again, she paused. Seeing her ears fall, Fletcher got nervous again.

“What is it?” he asked worriedly.

She drew circles on the floor. “Do you guys, um… suck blood as well?”

Fletcher blinked. “What? No. Why would you think that?” Fletcher asked.

Evergreen looked relieved, but still confused. “You have fangs like a vampire bat,” she pointed out.

Fletcher regarded his fangs. “Oh. No, these are for storing extra Limress,” he answered. He wasn’t about to tell her that they were also meant for subduing targets with neurotoxin in preparation for stasis or brainwashing spells. “Limress is precious, so if we have any we don’t need, we try to store it away as best we can. The problem with Limress, however, is that it loses about half its potency if it’s exposed to carbon dioxide. So when converting it to a liquid state, it needs to be transferred directly into water in an air free environment. We do this by filling chrysali with water, evacuating all the bubbles, and then injecting limress with our fangs,” he explained. “Since we can take it back out again the same way, we can store it for decades without losing any potency.”

“Wow,” Evergreen replied. She smiled as she regarded his fangs closer, the changeling voluntarily tilting his head up for her. She saw the tube structures running behind the sharp points of the fangs. Then she giggled. “Have you ever gotten them caught on anything?”

Fletcher laughed. “No, but I have seen it happen. It’s hilarious.”

Evergreen shared a laugh with him as she pictured the scene. “It’s a shame you can’t tuck them in like a snake.”

“We can. I just find it uncomfortable,” the changeling replied.

Evergreen give a sheepish smile. “Too uncomfortable to show me?” she pleaded.

Fletcher sighed with a deadpan. “No, of course not.”

The mare’s smile grew wide as she watched him fold in his fangs. He even did it one at a time like a snake often did when it was stretching. She clapped her hooves with giddiness. “Now say something! Do you sound funny?”

Fletcher chuckled. He opened his mouth. “I sound exactly how I want to sound,” he said, but his lips didn’t move at all.

Evergreen blinked.

Then he did it again, but with her voice, “I can sound cutey-patooty…” then he switched to a deep male voice, “...or smooth and sensual.”

“I can even sound like I’m right behind you!” his voice barked behind her, causing her to jump with a squeak.

Fletcher had a good chuckle at her expense.

She looked behind herself, then back to him. “Woooooooow,” she breathed out like an awestruck little foal. “That’s so cool,” she gushed with her smile back in full force.

Fletcher shrugged. “Well, we have to be able to imitate any voice. The ventriloquism thing is just a bonus.”

Evergreen tapped her chin in thought. “So when you transform into ponies, what do you do when the pony has something they’re always wearing like a hat or a necklace, or custom saddle bags?”

Fletcher rubbed his foreleg awkwardly. She was oddly comfortable with this stuff… he just hoped they didn’t get into a topic that would ruin that.“Well, the easiest and cheapest way would be to just borrow the object when we place the target-- ahem, I mean pony into stasis, but if we absolutely had the need, we could do this…” he said as he summoned over a blanket. He held up a hoof to catch it, and let it drop. Then he bathed himself in flames, and turned into Dizzy, holding up a perfect copy of his cloak on his hoof.

“Woooooow,” Evergreen marveled.

“This costs a lot of limress, though,” he continued, “even more so depending on how different the two objects are. We also run the risk of this happening,” he said as he dropped the cloak to the floor. Before it even arrived, the fake cloak returned to its original form.

“It changes back if you’re not touching it?” the mare inquired.

Fletcher nodded as he dispelled his disguise as well.

“Wait, did you just use up a bunch of limress just to show me that?!” she balked.

Fletcher’s ears fell. “Why are you angry with me?”

“Because it was unnecessary! You could have just told me instead of showing me. I thought Dizzy said you didn’t have much energy to spare?!” she fretted.

Fletcher’s expression had turned apologetic. “It was all limress you gave me. I figured the least I could do was use it to answer your questions and make you happy,” he muttered.

Evergreen’s shoulders sank and her heart melted. “Ohhh, Fletcher…” she moaned with pity. She strode over to him and wrapped her forelegs around his neck. She held him in her embrace for a few seconds, before she suddenly smacked him upside the back of the head. “Silly bug,” she chided. Then she squeezed him tighter and Fletcher felt her flood him with emotion. He smiled and hugged her back, happy to be able to do so with his own hooves.

Dizzy returned a while later with a bundle of chopped wood on his back. Evergreen and Fletcher were chatting idly when he stepped into the cabin proper. His eyes widened when they fell upon the changeling in his true form.

“Whoa!”

The pair looked up at him.

“Heh heh, sorry. I was just surprised,” he said, waving off their concern. “You’re a lot bigger than any of the changelings I’ve come across. Which breed are you? Or are you just a special case?” he added with a sly smile.

Most changelings, males included, were roughly the size of a pony mare. Fletcher however, was much larger. He was a good deal taller than Evergreen, and had he been standing, he would have stood level with Dizzy.

Fletcher shuffled uncomfortably. “No. My uh... former hivemates and I are Emeperas,” he muttered, before looking away.

Dizzy’s expression turned sympathetic. He set the wood by the fireplace and strode over to the changeling, offering a hoof on the shoulder and an understanding smile. Fletcher responded with a grateful nod.

“Now that you’re awake, I know some foals and their families that want to give you their thanks,” Dizzy told him.

Fletcher’s eyes widened. “But… I barely did anything,” he muttered, looking away in shame. “I couldn’t help them. If it hadn’t been for you, all I would have done was get myself killed before it moved on to them.”

Dizzy shook his head. “Don’t be modest, Mate. It was a team effort. Not many folks can say they have the bravery to go hoof to hoof with a beastie like that. More importantly, had we not had a changeling in town that day...” he said, poking Fletcher in the chestplate, “...nopony would have known the foals were in trouble at all until well after it was too late.”

Dizzy turned to the door and gestured for Fletcher to follow. “You won’t be able to convince them that what you did was nothing,” he said before calling back to Evergreen, “See you in a little while, Mossy.”

Dizzy opened the door and made to step outside, but he stopped. He held up a hoof like he was holding an imaginary object, and called back into the cabin, “WHEN I COUNT TO FIVE, THERE HAD BETTER BE A HAT ON THIS HOOF. OTHERWISE, I KNOW OF A CERTAIN RODENT THAT’S GOING TO BE HAIRLESS IN THE MORNING!”

Fletcher followed Dizzy through town in his Urban Myth disguise. Eventually they strode up to the door of a small house. He watched uneasily as Dizzy gave it three crisp knocks. The door was answered by a foal that Fletcher recognised as the little filly from that day.

“Guess who’s finally awake,” Dizzy told her with a wink.

Apparently that was all he needed to say, because the filly gasped and ran back into the house. Fletcher could hear her calling her mother and relaying the news. The next thing he heard was a trampling of hooves. His eyes widened in horror as a crazed mare bolted down the hall towards him. She snatched him up and spun him around in an iron tight hug.

“Oh thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou sooooo much for saving my Silver Bell! You’re my hero!” she squealed.

Fletcher’s heart skipped a beat. He… he’d seen this before…

Miss Cream.

Tears beaded in the corners of his eyes as Fletcher saw the image of that poor mare in his mind’s eye. She had called him a hero for saving her child too... only for him to turn around and take her foal away from her forever.

The little filly finally caught up with her mother's impromptu sprint, and latched on to Fletcher's leg.

"Thanks so much for saving us, Mister!" she cried, squeezing as tight as she could. “I was beginning to think nopony would ever hear us calling for help, but then you came! And you led the monster away so we could escape!” She nuzzled his leg with her cheek. Then she gasped. "I gotta go get the others!" she told her mother, before running over to the house across the street.

Dizzy took off his hat and gestured to Fletcher. "Ms. Willow, this is Urban Myth, the stallion I told you about. Myth, this is Willow, Silver Bell's mother."

"Ch- charmed," Fletcher gasped in the throes of the mare's iron grip.

"Ohhhh, Hatchet's going to wish he was home for this," the mare said, squeezing Fletcher tighter and swaying from side to side.

Dizzy chuckled and tapped Willow's shoulder. "Um, Ms. Willow, I believe he's about to faint."

Willow gasped and glanced at Fletcher, whose eyes were starting to roll back in his head. She squeaked and let him go, repeating her apologies over and over as he gasped the life back into his lungs.

“It-- cough*… It’s okay. You’re…you’re welcome,” Fletcher wheezed.

Silver Bell came running back with the two colts and their mothers in tow. The mares had the same crazed look in their eyes that Willow had.

No! Please! Not again!

“I have a few errands to run in town,” Dizzy told Fletcher when they finally managed the say their goodbyes to the thankful families. “You’re welcome to come with me if you wish, or we can reconvene back at Mossy’s.”

Fletcher gave a simple nod and stayed put, watching Dizzy head off towards town. Without much thought, Fletcher ended up heading towards the quarry. He strolled along the quarry’s edge, looking down into the pit, the various marks in the dirt and piles of rubble documenting the events of that day. When he reached the point where he last saw the scorpion, all he found was the large indent where it hit the ground. There were char marks surrounding the spot and a wide trail in the dirt leading off somewhere.

Dizzy must have come back and burned it in order to drag it away piece by piece.

Fletcher followed the trail till he finally found the corpse. The internals had in fact been burnt out and the remains of the carapace were piled up in a corner of the quarry. Fletcher’s eyes narrowed as he gazed upon them.

Giant Scorpion:

Subject has eight legs, providing a wide, sturdy stance. Its shell is virtually impervious to physical assault. It is armed with large pincers and a HIGHLY venomous tail. Toxins cause nervous system shutdown and hallucinations. Avoid at all costs.

Location of eyes: Two eyes are set on the top of the head in the center. Six more are located at the front of the head, three on either side.

Location of ears: Not applicable. Subject bears no response to auditory stimuli.

Caution: Subject can detect its surroundings through vibrations.

Logging range of motion and attack behaviors…

Fletcher closed his eyes as visions of the giant scorpion’s movements raced across his mind and were recorded in his mental archive. As he finished, he looked the remains up and down once again and scowled.

“I suppose I should thank you, Hellion,” he spat. “Never again will I be caught off guard by the likes of your kind.”

The husk simply stared back at him with an empty gaze. Fletcher sighed and hung his head. What would he have done if it weren’t for that stallion?

Fletcher knocked on Evergreen’s door before hesitantly pushing it open.

“Um… I’m back,” he called into the cabin.

“Hi, Fletcher. Come on in,” he heard his host chirp from the living room.

Fletcher did his best to wipe his hooves off on the mat before wandering into the cabin proper. He found both Evergreen and Dizzy in the living room, amidst a cacophony of various plants and alchemy equipment. Dizzy was lying on the couch, above and away from the chaos of whatever Evergreen was working on as she lay on the floor with an open book and everything else spread out around her. Dizzy looked up from watching her as Fletcher came into the room.

“Welcome back, Mate,” he greeted.

Fletcher gave a small nod before asking, “What’s all this? What are you up to?”

Evergreen licked a hoof and turned a page. “I’m making a compound for Dizzy,” the mare replied as she worked.

Dizzy elaborated, “Aside from visiting and enjoying her company, this is the primary reason I’ve been staying with Mossy. We’ve been waiting for her herbs to ripen so she can make a new supply of medicine for me. It’s to help me sleep.”

“Do you have sleep apnea?” Fletcher asked.

“Mmm, no,” Dizzy muttered. “It is for preventing bad dreams.”

Evergreen hid her face from Dizzy as she mouthed the words ‘post traumatic stress disorder’.

Fletcher’s eyes widened. “Ah… well... no one likes bad dreams,” he offered awkwardly. He looked for a way to change the subject. “So... you don’t live around here then, Dizzy?”

Evergreen giggled as she busied herself with her work again. “He doesn’t live anywhere,” she teased.

At Fletcher’s puzzled look, Dizzy explained. “I’m nomadic. I travel constantly from place to place searching for new things to study, skills to learn, and friends to make. Mossy here, on the other hoof, prefers to live the lifestyle of a hermit and mostly keeps to herself.”

“What’s wrong with that? I just prefer the solitude of nature over being around other ponies, that’s all,” Evergreen said.

“Oh.” Fletcher’s ears fell and he rubbed his leg. “Please forgive me for imposing, then. I guess I should be heading off.”

Evergreen’s own ears perked up. “Nonono, you’re not imposing! Don’t misunderstand!” she squeaked. “Dizzy!” she hissed, grabbing a golfball sized seed and beaning him in the head with it. Unphased by the projectile, the stallion simply gave a playful smile as he rubbed out the fur crater left at the point of impact.

Evergreen turned back to Fletcher. “I enjoy my privacy, Fletcher, but that doesn’t mean I don’t like having the occasional guest every now and then. I like company in small doses. You just won’t see me hosting any big parties, that’s all. And as far as hosting guests go, you’re pretty easy. I don’t even have to prepare meals for you,” she added with a smile. “You’re welcome to stay as long as you like, Fletcher. I really mean it.”

Fletcher smiled. The kindness of ponies was proven to him yet again, and these ones even knew he was a changeling. The hive had it wrong about them.

“Thank you. That’s very kind of you, Miss Evergreen,” he said softly.

“Call me Evergreen… or Mossy if you like,” she said with a wink. “Besides, you recovered from that poison so fast it’s silly! I wouldn’t let you leave without a few more days’ monitoring anyway.”

Evergreen brought a hoof to her lips and whistled. “Milo,” she called. The raccoon that seemed to be her pet scurried into the room. “Go show Fletcher to the second guestroom, please,” she instructed. “And make sure the bed is made up with the thicker comforter, the one with the stars on it.”

Fletcher followed the little rodent as it scampered off down the hall and showed him to his room. He watched with amusement as it darted about inside, setting up accommodations. He idly wondered: if two ponies had no problem with him, could Equestria as a whole accept changelings in general?

Late that night, Dizzy was enjoying the fireplace in Evergreen’s living room with a blanket draped over his back. He rested his chin on crossed forelegs as he watched the flames crackle and dance across the charing logs.

Fletcher walked in quietly, his ears laying flat against his head.

Dizzy glanced up at him. “Couldn’t sleep?” he asked as he raised his head.

“No,” Fletcher muttered softly.

The pony’s brows furrowed sympathetically, and a warm smile graced his lips. “Something on your mind?” he asked.

Fletcher struggled to make eye contact, so his eyes simply settled on the rug. He was quiet for a moment, until finally, he let out a light sigh.

“It was kind of you and all those families to consider me a hero for what happened that day. I know you think I’m being too modest, but I know that if I didn’t have your help I would have failed those kids. I would have failed their families... because despite all my years of combat training, I’m just not strong enough…”

Dizzy didn’t say anything. His countenance was neutral, but on the inside, he was smiling. It was looking like he wouldn’t have to be the one to ask.

“...But then there’s you. You stopped that scorpion’s tail with your bare hooves! You moved faster than my eyes could follow, and you killed it with a punch that shattered the ground!”

Fletcher paused. It was a long moment before he finally looked up.

“I don’t know what manner of magic or martial art you have at your disposal, but I beg of you...” he said with a low bow, “...please, teach me. I never want to be caught without the strength to save someone again.”

Dizzy’s face remained stoic. “You wish to join me on my travels?” he asked.

Fletcher nodded.

“Are you certain? I travel all over the world, Mate. Conditions range from unforgiving desert heat, to raging blizzards upon the mountain tops. Very rarely do I stay with friends in cozy little cabins like this one. Are you prepared for such a lifestyle?” the pony asked.

Fletcher nodded again. “I’ve been traveling from town to town from the time I was banished. This has been the first time I’ve slept indoors ever since. The cold won’t be fun, but as long as I have enough limress to change into a pony, I should be fine. I will follow you wherever you go, Master,” he finished humbly.

Dizzy winced, holding up a hoof. “Hold on now,” he said. “The techniques you’re asking me to teach you would start wars and unleash decades of bloodshed if they weren’t kept from being passed on. I strive to ensure I don’t let anypony even see me use them, much less teach them to somepony.”

Fletcher’s ears flopped, his gaze finding the rug once more.

“However…”

Fletcher looked up.

“...I allowed you to see on purpose. I have seen your character, Fletcher; the resoluteness with which you stand up for doing the right thing. You didn’t owe Atalanter anything, yet you laid everything on the line for them. I want you to have the ability to defend the innocent, and all those close to you. However, before I took you on as a disciple, I would need you to swear to me that you will never use these techniques for any reason other than a means towards protecting somepony. Furthermore, under no condition are you to teach these techniques to another, save it be with my permission.”

Fletcher opened his mouth to promise, but Dizzy stopped him as he leaned forward and spoke with a low, serious tone. “And when I say I need you to swear, I’m serious. This isn’t one of those secrets you promise to keep, and then share it with your spouse or closest friend with the justification of getting them to make the same promise. That’s exactly how rumours spread. Do you understand?”

Fletcher nodded vigorously. He stood at attention and made a crossing gesture over his heart the way ponies often did.

“I swear I will only use your techniques for the benefit of others’ safety, and that I will keep the understanding of those techniques to myself, unless you permit otherwise,” he promised. Do I even have anyone to tell?

Dizzy gave a pleased smile before nodding. “Good. Mossy Mare will have my compound ready in three days. We’ll depart the morning after.”

“All set, you two?” Evergreen asked as she followed her guests outside her front door. Both stallions were equipped with full saddle bags.

Dizzy turned and gave her a farewell hug. “Of course. Thank you for everything, Mossy.”

She nodded. “You’re welcome. Thanks for visiting,” she said. She moved on to Fletcher. “It was really interesting to meet you.” The mare wrapped a hoof around his neck and pulled him into a hug.

“Yes. Thank you for all your kindness, Miss Ev-- uh, Mossy. I definitely owe you one,” he replied as he returned her gesture.

She let out an amused sigh before breaking the embrace. “You make a pretty handsome earth pony, Fletcher,” she bantered with half lidded eyes.

A blush rose to Fletcher’s cheeks while the stallion beside him had a laugh at his expense. Fletcher had disguised himself as a chocolate brown earthpony for the trip. He figured some extra stamina would be a good idea so he’d given himself a rather... well built form without giving much thought to the possible boost in appeal it might give him.

“Of course, Luv.” Dizzy said with bouncing eyebrows. “He makes a good whatever you want.”

“Oooh,” the mare giggled. “I may have to cash in on that ‘one’ he owes me, then,” she teased as the disguised changeling shrunk away. “Aww, I’m just kidding, Fletcher,” she assured him. “Though I will admit, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t find the idea of all those possibilities exciting,” she added with a giggle.

Fletcher’s cheeks flushed with another wave of heat as he puzzled over how to respond to that. “Um… thanks?”

Dizzy chuckled again and shook his head. “Come along, Fletcher. Let’s get going,” he said as he turned to head out.

Fletcher happily took the opportunity to duck out of the awkward moment. “Yes, Master,” he replied, hastily falling into step with the stallion.

Dizzy flinched again at the title, but he shook his head and kept moving. “Farewell, Mossy,” he called over his shoulder, “and thanks again!”

“Bye! See you next time!” she beamed, waving them a warm send off.

Fletcher couldn’t help but smile a little, and returned a small wave. Thanks. For everything.

The two of them followed the road from Evergreen’s cabin into town, and passed through to the other side, picking up the trail into the forest. A quiet calm pervaded as they left the sounds of town behind. After a few minutes, Dizzy cleared his throat.

“There’s something I need to address with you, Fletcher,” he began.

Fletcher looked over to him expectantly. He’d been wondering for awhile now what was weighing on the pony’s emotional presence.

“I’m very pleased to be starting this teacher/disciple relationship with you, but I would really prefer it if you didn’t call me Master,” he told him. To Dizzy’s surprise, Fletcher’s ears fell, and he sunk to his haunches. He looked absolutely crestfallen.

“Oh. I see,” he muttered as his gaze fell to the ground. “A-as you wish,...”

Dizzy was about to ask what the big deal was when a pained expression came over his disciple’s face.

“That reminds me…” He swallowed. “...do you think we can find a nice place to stop for a moment?”

Dizzy tilted his head. “What for?”

Fletcher finished packing down the mound of dirt and dusted off his hooves. He dispelled his disguise and sat down on his haunches, staring up at the stone in reverence. They’d found a beautiful forest glade, tranquil and untouched, with lush grass, and gentle streams of light peering through the thick canopy above. In the center, the changeling set a large chunk of slate, supported by a mound of tightly packed dirt all around it. Upon the face of the jagged stone, Fletcher carved the names of all his hivemates that fell during the battle with the Ark. Changelings that fought under his command.

Dizzy, who had been quietly watching from the glade’s edge, came and sat down beside him.

Fletcher sighed and looked up towards the sky. “It isn’t fair,” he whispered. “They laid down their lives for their hive and their Queen, yet I have no doubt that ungrateful caitiff hasn’t even bothered to honor them with a memorial yet...”

Dizzy gave a stoic nod. I see. So that’s what that reaction was about. He’s been yearning for a leader figure ever since he was banished. He let out a sigh. It’s going to make me think of them every time I hear it… but perhaps this time…

Very well.

“I’ve given it some thought, Fletcher…” Dizzy began softly.

Fletcher turned to him curiously.

“...I’ve decided I’m going to let you call me whatever you wish, but on one condition…”

Fletcher’s eyes lit up. “Yes?”

The stallion turned to him with a mischievous smile. “I get to call you by a nickname of my choosing.”

Fletcher blinked. “W-what do you wish to call me?” he stammered.

The pony shrugged. “Don’t know yet. I’ve yet to think of one I like. So? What do you say?”

Fletcher closed his eyes and nodded with a smile.

“Thank you… Master.”

Dizzy set down his saddle bags in a grassy meadow as they finally emerged from the forest.

“Well, this looks as good a place as any to set up camp for the evening,” he said over his shoulder.

Fletcher looked around the area with a smile as he caught up. He nodded in agreement as he levitated his own saddlebags off his back.

Dizzy retrieved a hatchet from his bag and levitated it Fletcher’s way.

“I have a few logs to get us started, but can I ask you to gather up some additional firewood while I set up camp?” he asked.

Fletcher grasped the tool in his own magic with zeal. “Of course, Master,” he replied with a slight bow before heading back into the woods to complete his task. He scavenged the forest floor for felled tree bowes that would be dry enough for burning that night, then chopped a few down to dry out for the next day.

He returned to the meadow a few hours later with his bundles floating in tow behind him, only to drop them, as well as his jaw, at the sight. Dizzy had laid out their blankets over two thick piles of grass. They were set up on either side of a fire which was encircled with stones, and crowned by a cast iron cauldron hanging from a large spit. The campsite was surrounded by a circle of twelve oil torches mounted on tall poles of bamboo. The lights amidst the fleeting twilight gave the scene a very inviting feeling. The aforementioned stallion had been laying on his blanket reading a book when Fletcher came out of the forest. He looked up when he heard Fletcher drop everything.

“Ah, well done my friend. Thank you,” he said as he gathered Fletcher’s haul in his aura and assembled them in two neat piles next to the fire pit.

Fletcher shook his head in disbelief, looking around as he walked into the camp proper. “Where did all of this come from, Master?” he asked in bewilderment. There was no way the pony had been carrying a cauldron and a spit in his saddlebags.

Dizzy licked his hoof and turned a page. “I brought them out from my Keep,” he answered nonchalantly. He let Fletcher stew with that for a few moments before he glanced up with a wry smile. “Sorry, would you like me to get you a book from my collection as well?” he asked.

Fletcher’s mouth failed to perform its proper function for a few seconds. “C-collection? Y-you have books?” he stammered, excitement replacing the astonished look on his face. Then he shook his head. “Wait a second, I thought you were nomadic. Where do you have a keep around here?”

Dizzy chuckled. “Well, nomads typically have very few possessions because they constantly move from place to place. I however, keep many journals, craft beautiful works of art and design, and collect all manner of things on my journeys, from books, to precious materials, and treasures. I’m able to do so and still travel the world on my endeavors because I’m able to access my Keep from anywhere,” he explained.

Fletcher raised an eyebrow. “I thought you said you couldn’t teleport because of your handicap,” he pointed out.

Dizzy nodded. “That’s correct,” he said, tapping the stub on his forehead. Then he asked in a teacher’s sort of fashion, “Can you think of another way of instantly getting into a sealed cavern underneath a mountain several hundred leagues away?”

Fletcher tapped his chin and stared at the fire in thought. After several minutes, he finally answered, “I can’t say that I can, Master. Teleporting seems like the only answer, especially since the cavern is supposedly sealed.”

Dizzy nodded again. “It’s not a commonly known technique. To be honest, I would have been surprised if you knew about it, but it’s always worthwhile taking an opportunity for contemplation,” he said as he stepped off his makeshift pillow. Then he sat on his haunches and held a foreleg straight out to the side. He closed his eyes and began to mutter what sounded like an incantation.

“Mittervok Kestome Eve Magica: Ryddhau en sel ot en Gyt ot en Keppet.”

As he spoke, a set of runes lit up with a white glow from within one of the dark stripes on Dizzy’s leg. With a steady hum, the ring of runes actually lifted off the surface and spun around his leg as they drifted off in the direction he was pointing. Then they expanded until the ring was as tall as he was. Fletcher watched with awe as the space within the ring rippled and shimmered like the surface of a pond, until, like a flame eating a hole in an old sheet of parchment, tendrils of light tore a hole from the center outward, licking away reality as they went, until they finally settled at the edge of the ring.

Dizzy gestured toward it with a tilt of his head. “Have a look.”

Keeping a safe distance, Fletcher stepped closer to Dizzy’s side to get a better look. What had seemed to be just a dark hole in the air, was actually proving to be a view into a dark room of some kind. It was like looking into the window of someone’s house.

Dizzy picked a skinny log out of the fire with his magic and stood up. “Come, I’ll give you a tour,” he said, leading the way. Fletcher watched incredulously as the stallion walked right through the hole. He stood up and looked around the other side of it, only to find nothing there.

“Come along, Fletcher,” Dizzy called from inside, snapping him out of his wonder.

Fletcher sprung into step to catch up to the stallion, hesitating briefly before stepping through the rift. As he caught up, he pressed the question, “What was that, Master? Is this place really where I think it is?”

Dizzy was lighting several torches that he had summoned over to him, and sent them back to their various sconces throughout the cavern, granting the area light.

“It’s a four-dimensional portal. Unlike teleportation where the user transports themselves from one location to another, a four dimensional portal takes two three-dimensional spaces, and folds them side-by-side, allowing the user to simply move to the new location by conventional means. The major benefit is that I can pull it off using runes instead of my horn. The downside is, unlike teleportation which allows a user to go just about wherever they please, I can only open a portal to a spot where I already have a tesseract set up. Sadly, the required materials for making one aren’t very easy to come by. It’s not every day one comes across prismatic liquid sapphire,” he explained.

Fletcher looked around the cavern with awe. It felt more like he was in a well trimmed castle than an underground cave. The floor was adorned with red carpets, marking the isles between countless shelves and racks of Dizzy’s possessions. Dizzy lead him past alchemy sets and various scientific instruments, cultural souvenirs from around the world, and suits of armor and weapons from all the different ages. Fletcher approached a rack of swords and marveled at the beautiful craftsmanship. He picked out one in particular that had caught his eye. Not only was it aesthetically gorgeous, but the balance was incredible.

“Ah, yes. I was rather proud of that piece,” Dizzy commented from over his shoulder. “It came together rather stunningly.”

Fletcher blinked. “Wait. You made this!?” he asked incredulously.

The stallion smiled and nodded before moving further on into the keep. “Indeed. ’Tis a beautiful art, Blacksmithing. It has a wonderfully zen-like process. I think you’ll love it-- Ah, here we are.”

Before them lay aisle after aisle of countless books.

“Any topic or genre in particular you’d like to indulge in?” Dizzy asked over his shoulder.

Fletcher was suddenly aware that he had been drooling. He cleared his throat as he wiped his muzzle. Daring to hope for the one topic he’d been yearning to find history on, he muttered, “I don’t suppose you have any historical texts recorded by changelings, do you?”

Dizzy’s ears fell as he gave him an empathetic look. “Sorry, Mate. You lot don’t tend to record much. Certainly not anything that I’ve been able to get my hooves on,” he said.

Fletcher bobbed his head in acceptance. He expected as much. It was one of the things he envied ponies for. Whole buildings dedicated to the keeping of texts; from historical, to informational, even leisure based. “That’s fair,” he muttered. “You’re right, changelings never write anything.” He let out a sigh. “I suppose since we pass on our collective knowledge base during foaling development, there isn’t much of a need to record any knowledge in a hard copy format. Still, I wish there was something on the works of individual changelings past.”

Dizzy started laughing.

Fletcher blinked. “What?”

Dizzy waved a hoof. “Sorry, sorry. I completely understand your desire for specifics, don’t get me wrong, but do you know how badly a pony foal would wish they could learn things from their teachers instantly like you lot can? I’ve never come across a foal that enjoyed being cooped up in a classroom for years on end.”

Fletcher gave a half-lidded stare at that. “I’d like to point out that it’s not expected of pony fillies and colts to gather food for their families, or be prepared for situations where they have to fight for their lives,” he said dryly.

Dizzy’s laughter died in his throat. “Ahem, yes… a fair point. My apologies.”

Fletcher waved him off. “It’s alright. If it makes you feel any better, I personally haven’t used most of the spells I was taught. Most of them were stasis spells... or spells for altering memories... that sort of thing,” he muttered somberly.

“Mmmm, some frightening things in your repertoire, isn’t there?” Dizzy mused with a nod.

Fletcher shook his head. “I try not to think about it.”

Dizzy offered a smile as he put a hoof on Fletcher’s shoulder. “Spells are just tools, Mate. All that matters is what you use them for. Perhaps I’ll have you teach me someday.”

Fletcher blinked. “You wish for me to teach you, Master?”

Dizzy chuckled. “Well of course. I’d be a horrible scholar if I believed there wasn’t something to learn from everyone. And you shouldn’t sell yourself short, either. I may have taken you on as my disciple, but I’m certain I’ll be learning a great deal from you, my friend. At any rate…” he said as he dusted off and offered him a thick, old looking journal. “...all the information was garnered through observation alone, but I do have several of my own journals on your species, if you’re interested.”

Fletcher solemnly shook his head. “Thank you, Master, but I’m not really in the mood anymore,” he said.

Dizzy put a hoof on his shoulder as he turned to lead him back. “That’s fine. Perhaps we should do something a little more socially engaging anyway. Come, I’ll show you how to play cards.”

“Can you tell me more about Fau--, er... Galaxia and Nocteous?” Fletcher asked as he discarded a jack of clubs on the pile.

“Certainly,” Dizzy replied as he drew from the deck, added the card to his fan, and contemplated his next move. “Tell me how much you know and we’ll start from there.”

Fletcher swallowed. “Well, we don’t have much solid information about her, other than a myth about a supposed Goddess that was responsible for creating… well, everything. We have several conflicting bits of information regarding what she looks like, whether she’s benevolent or malevolent, and whether or not she even exists,” he said.

Dizzy nodded as he tossed a card on the pile to end his turn. “I see. Well, that’s fairly typical for most who aren’t native to Equestria. In fact, the theology is lost even on most natives despite our close ties with the Gods,” he replied.

Fletcher raised a brow.

Dizzy smiled and answered the unasked question with another. “You’re aware of how the Princess of Equestria raises the sun and the moon, correct?”

Fletcher’s brows furrowed.

Immortal being.

Royal stature.

Magical power sufficient to move Celestial bodies through space.

Click.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Fletcher blurted, waving his hooves. “You mean Princess Celestia is Faust herself!? W-who is Nocteous then!?”

The pony chuckled and shook his head. “No, Princess Celestia is not Galaxia. Galaxia is Celestia’s Mother, andNocteous is her proud Father,” he explained. “It’s your turn by the way.”

“Oh,” Fletcher shook his head and looked back at his fan as he drew a card. “So... the God’s are ponies then?” he asked hesitantly.

“They’re alicorns, yes,” Dizzy confirmed.

The changeling looked dejected. “I was afraid of that,” he muttered as he laid a card on the pile.

Dizzy tilted his head, “What do you mean?”

Fletcher sighed. “Well, since no one could tell me what Faust was, I often worried she might not be a changeling. That wouldn’t be a big deal in and of itself, but if she wasn’t a changeling then there was the possibility she’d be one of the world’s other creatures. If Faust and Nocteous were creatures not found in the world, then it wouldn’t matter, but since they’re ponies… they probably only care about their chosen people,” he said sadly. “Do changelings, dragons, and the rest of us even go anywhere when we die, or were we just put here to be extra scenery for you guys?”

The stallion was stunned. He could have wept after hearing how the changeling had misinterpreted his situation. Dizzy closed his eyes and slowly laid his fan of cards down.

“That’s not the case at all, Fletcher. It can be said of one who makes things, that they take varying levels of pride across all the things they’ve ever made, it’s true. Some things had more time and effort put into them, some things exhibit the experience and growth of the creator over time, while other things had no passion poured into them at all…”

Fletcher’s ears folded. This wasn’t making him feel any better.

“...but Galaxia and Nocteous don’t just go about creating things. They’re parents, and I’m not just referring the Princesses. Every soul, every spirit, yours included, was sired by heavenly parents before their body was sired by mortal ones.

“Now, granted, some think parents play favorites with their children, but good parents, perfect parents in this case, have plenty of love to go around for all their children. Galaxia and Nocteous love you just as much as they love me or any other pony,” he said. He picked his fan back up and drew a card. “Now you’d best not degrade yourself as ‘just scenery’ ever again or you’ll make your Mother cry,” he added.

Fletcher had gone nearly catatonic. My M-Mother??? G-Goddess….M-Mother…
...F-Father...Nocteous...s-soul...

Dizzy watched his apprentice’s twitching with a knowing smile. He decided five minutes had been long enough and flicked a card at his disciple’s forehead.

Fletcher shook his head and blinked repeatedly. “What?”

“It’s your turn, Mate,” Dizzy said with a grin.

“Uh, right…” Fletcher picked up a card and considered his fan. “Wait, did you say Princesses?” he asked.

Dizzy laughed at the delay. “Yes, I did,” he confirmed. “We’ve already established Celestia raises the sun and the moon, right?”

Fletcher nodded.

“If you ever see her in person, you’ll see that her mark only depicts the sun,” Dizzy said.

Fletcher blinked. “So… where is the Princess that’s supposed to raise the moon?”

Dizzy folded his forelegs. “Well, to put it very simply, they were having a bit of a sibling’s squabble and it was quickly getting out of hoof. So, Princess Celestia was forced to discipline her little sister by placing her in... ‘time-out’, so to speak,” he explained, pointed up at the sky.

Fletcher raised a brow in confusion before looking up. His gaze settled on the night sky’s largest and brightest feature. Then his eyes widened. “Whoa, wait! You mean the ‘Mare in the Moon’ is literally--” he trailed off when he saw the stallion nodding. Fletcher gazed back at the moon in stunned silence. He’d always seen it, but he thought it was just a charming myth, spun about by the coincidental pattern on the moon’s surface.

“C-can… can she see us?” he whispered, not taking his eyes away from the bright sphere.

Dizzy chuckled. “No. She slumbers. Although... her ‘sentence’ should be up in a few years, which will be... interesting, to say the least.”

Fletcher couldn’t help but notice the small increase of joy in the stallion’s signature. He was about to ask about it when the pony changed the subject.

“Well, I have good news and bad news…” he said after he picked up a card. “The bad news is, you’re about to lose. But the good news is, I’ve found your new nickname.”

At Fletcher’s raised brow, Dizzy gave a dangerous grin and tossed down a card. Fletcher looked down at the pile and was met by a joker with a crooked smile.

“Pleasure to make your acquaintance... Wildcard.”

“Today, we’re going to begin your study and investigation of earth pony magic,” Dizzy announced.

Fletcher blinked….. then rubbed his ear.

“Sorry Master, but I thought you said earth pony magic,” he said with a quizzical look.

The stallion smiled at him. “I did. I’m going to teach you earth pony magic, or Essence magic as it’s also called. And yes…” he added with a chuckle, “...earth ponies do have magic.” Dizzy gestured to the mountain and the surrounding area. “This is a choice opportunity to introduce Essence magic. A scarce few even know about this place, so we won’t be seen, and the techniques we’ll study apply very well to what we’ll be doing here.” He leaned forward and whispered, like he was sharing a secret. “Essence magic is what I was using when I swatted that scorpion like a fly,” he added with a wink.

Fletcher perked up at that. His ears went rigid and he leaned forward excitedly… until his brain reminded him that something didn’t add up.

“Wait, you used earth pony magic? But… you’re a unicorn…”

The stallion just chuckled and shook his head. “A fair point. To answer that, let’s first address how we understand magic in general. Up until now you’ve understood magic to be reserved for a select few species that have some means of accessing it, like a horn, correct?”

Fletcher nodded.

“In reality, there are many different forms of magic, mastered by many different races. Some forms are only possible for a certain species because of physical biology. However, there are other forms that, while dominated by a particular race, are not one hundred percent out of reach to others. For example, a house cat could swim. She probably wouldn’t like it, mind you, but she could do it,” Dizzy explained.

Fletcher tilted his head in thought. “So… can you use fire magic like a jackal?”

The stallion shook his head. “It should be noted that learning to use a magic outside one’s scope is extremely slow going, and first requires a level of knowledge and understanding of the subject even greater than a seasoned master in order to translate it into something useable for one’s own species. It was many, many years before I was able to do what an earthpony foal could learn in a day; I haven’t quite gotten around to jackal magic yet,” he added with a wink.

“One of the reasons I offered to teach you however, is that you have a distinct advantage when it comes to learning this material,” he said, pointing to him. “Being able to physically change into the respective races will accelerate your progress significantly, even for your natural form.”

Fletcher smiled at that. “So what’s first?” he asked. If he could learn to harness that kind of power, he was sure he could protect anyone from any monster, regardless of how big it was.

Dizzy smiled as he led him to an exposed, flat stone in the ground, large enough for a pony to lie down on comfortably. Dizzy sat down in front of it, and gestured for Fletcher to sit on the stone.

“We’re going to start with an exercise,” he said. “Close your eyes.”

Fletcher sat down on his haunches and obeyed, keeping his mind’s eye fixed on the presence in front of him as he awaited further instruction.

“Be sure not to open your eyes unless directed. Keep your body still, but relaxed and comfortable.” Dizzy instructed. “Take a deep breath and hold it…” He watched his disciple’s chest expand to capacity and waited a few moments. “…and let it out,” he directed. “Clear your mind. Let all of our surroundings fade into the background. I imagine it’s a little tougher for you even with closed eyes, but try to ignore any animals and the like. The only things I want you to focus on is yourself, and my voice. Now, again: deep breath,” he ordered.

Fletcher savored the blissful feeling of calmness as it washed over his mind, his tense muscles softening. Simple enough.

After Fletcher let out a few more steady breathes, Dizzy continued.

“Good. Now tell me… where are you?” he asked. “And I don’t mean ‘sitting on a rock at the base of a mountain’,” he clarified as he stepped up to him. Fletcher felt him rest a hoof on his head.

“I’m talking about in here,” Dizzy said as he shook Fletcher’s head about playfully. “Look and ‘see’ the different points within your own body, and tell me, where are you?”

Fletcher was dumbstruck. What a question, he thought as he tried to do what he was told.

How do I even… Am I in my head? I don’t know, that would make the most sense… but where? Behind the eyes? Maybe, but wouldn’t that imply that I rely on my eyes the most?... Am I in my chest then? Sensing my environment by presences and emotions with my heart and my limress tank?....

Well, I can rule out my legs at least… and I’m certainly not hanging out in my plot… but I don’t know how else to narrow it down. Where am I?

Thankfully, Dizzy came to his rescue.

“Tough question, isn’t it,” he asked knowingly.

Fletcher nodded. “It really is. I can honestly say I’ve never thought about it like this before.”

Dizzy tittered. “You’re not alone, don’t worry. Don’t overthink it. What matters is that you’re in there somewhere, and now that you’re more aware of yourself from the inside, you can place your focus anywhere in your body. This is the basis for many Essence magic techniques. You have an essence. For living creatures, one’s essence is very closely connected to one’s soul, or consciousness. It should be noted, however, that all things have an essence, whether they have a soul or not.

“You have an essence connected to your soul, but so does each particle that makes up your body and everything else in this universe. It is the essence in all these particles that makes them obey natural laws and forces. Now, like I said, Magic is not just the arcane magic that you’re familiar with, but rather, it is defined by any ability to change, or go against, the effects of the universe’s natural laws. In Arcane magic, one forcibly rewrites the directives of the essences involved, but in earth pony magic, one compels essences to obey them instead of the natural laws. The biggest difference is that one requires mana and uses sequences, or ‘codes’, in the form of spells, while the other works solely on strength of will and its ability to overpower the effects of a natural law on an essence,” Dizzy explained.

Fletcher winced a bit. “That makes magic sound a little… I dunno... mean, doesn’t it?”

Dizzy laughed. “What you have to remember, Mate, is that an essence doesn’t necessarily coincide with a consciousness. A glass of water will hardly be offended if a unicorn overrides its properties to turn it to the color green. And it won’t think of an earth pony as being a brute by forcing their will upon it.

“That does however raise a good point, in that earth pony magic has a distinct disadvantage in that regard. Since one would have to compel water to change color, it takes substantially more energy and concentration for an earthpony, than it would a unicorn. This is why essence magic isn’t typically used for changing the properties of things, or the many other spells that arcane magic is so proficient at.

“What essence magic is very proficient at, however, is manipulating an object through its collective essence, and the manipulation of forces,” Dizzy explained.

“So... can earth ponies defy gravity?” Fletcher asked, tapping his chin.

Dizzy chortled, and shook his head. “I won’t say it isn’t possible, but it would take an immense amount of concentration. I’ve only ever seen a draconequus defy gravity, but with their level of essence magic, they can do a lot more than make a glass of water change color.”

“What’s a draconequus?” Fletcher asked. He noticed a hint of scorn rise in Dizzy’s signature, but he didn’t show any outward signs of it as he spoke.

“Ah yes. A draconequus is a creature that is made up of parts from different animals. Most commonly they have the head of an equine and the body of a serpentine dragon, thus the name, but their limbs range anywhere from talons, to paws, to hooves. They’re versed in essence magic to a frightening degree, and they’re not a very friendly bunch. Thankfully, the lot of them are either stuck in Tartarus, or imprisoned elsewise,” Dizzy answered. He shook his head. “But we’ve gotten off topic. Let’s get back to the exercise. Now, pay close attention to your left forehoof, and tell me what’s happening,” Dizzy directed.

The instruction seemed a little odd, but Fletcher did his best to follow and cast his attention to the base of his limb. Just as he imagined, nothing particularly special seemed to be happening, but then again, he wasn’t really sure what he was looking for.

“... nothing seems to be happening per se, Master. Is there something you want me to be do-- Wait. Hold on...”

Suddenly there was… something moving within his hoof. The only way he could think of to describe it, was a light. Watching it was somewhat like looking at the sun through closed eyelids. Whatever it was, it emanated a pleasantly gentle warmth all the way up his leg, and sent tingles throughout the rest of his body.

“There’s… something in my hoof. A light or something,” Fletcher answered. He felt sure that Dizzy was nodding.

“Very good. What you are ‘seeing’ right now is actually an extension of my essence. Open your eyes,” Dizzy ordered.

Fletcher let the rest of the world in again, and noticed that Dizzy had placed a hoof on the stone. His eyes went wide when his Master continued to speak.

“The beauty of essence magic is that by being in contact with a target, either directly or through a chain of contact, one can do all sorts of things using their essence,” the stallion said. What had Fletcher’s jaw hanging however, was the fact that he said it without speaking.

Seeing his reaction, Dizzy laughed heartily in Fletcher’s head, while the only visible evidence of the stallion’s mirth was a slight smile on his face.

“Case in point: Row, row, row your boat. Gently down the stream…” the pony sang in Fletcher’s mind. Then he took his hoof off the stone. “...merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily...” Dizzy’s singing got significantly quieter, but it was still detectable. Then he placed his hoof back on the stone. “...Life is but a dream,” he finished.

The light in Fletcher’s hoof disappeared and Dizzy opened his mouth to speak with his real voice, “As you can see, the effectiveness of your connection depends on how direct your contact is, and the number and types of different materials that are in your chain,” he explained as he gestured to the stone, and then to the dirt below his other three hooves.

Only now was the changeling able to remember himself, and reel in his wayward jaw.

“Th-that’s… astounding,” he muttered. Already his mind was filling with the desire to test the parameters of different materials and chains, and he hadn’t even learned the technique yet!

“Come with me,” Dizzy said, as he turned and led Fletcher to the mountain’s base. Several meters up, was a large boulder about four times their height, wedged up by some smaller rocks. Instructing Fletcher to sit off to the side, Dizzy then stepped into the path of the boulder.

Fletcher looked at him, and then to the boulder. Just as he put two and two together, Dizzy used his telekinesis to remotely remove the wedge before Fletcher could say anything. The ground rumbled as the boulder rolled down its trajectory.

“Now,” Dizzy projected over the noise, “Many earth ponies, as you know, tend to be a little stubborn, and that comes from their inherent abilities to stand their ground...”

“M-Master, I d-don’t think...” Fletcher stammered, panicking as he looked back and forth between him and the oncoming merchant of death.

“Essence magic can be used as a powerful offencive force, but it can also be used to channel opposing forces away from the user,” Dizzy continued, despite his disciple’s concern. He took a stance, carefully placing a hind hoof on another flat stone set in the ground. Three of his legs were rigidly planted on the ground, while a single fore-leg extended forward to meet the rock.

“M-Master!”

BAM!

Fletcher’s eyes went wide. All the boulder’s momentum had been entirely disrupted by a single hoof! He looked down at the stallion’s hooves on the ground. He hadn’t even been forced back! A vision of the pony stopping the giant scorpion’s tail suddenly replayed in his mind. Of course.

“As we know, when an object is in motion it has energy, and if we want to stop it we have to remove that energy. That is a natural law. For an object to slow down naturally, the energy from the object has to be transferred elsewhere. Usually the ground. With essence magic, one can use their essence like a pipe, to transfer that energy instantly,” Dizzy explained. He gestured to the flat stone he was standing on and lifted up his hind hoof. Fletcher let out a small gasp. Below the stallion’s hoof was a densely spaced, spiderweb crack in the stone.

“Have you ever wondered why earth ponies are so uncomfortable when they aren’t in contact with the ground? They themselves don’t realise the reason, but it’s because their bodies inherently know they are more vulnerable without that connection,” Dizzy said.

“Now… as powerful as Essence magic can be, it can also be very elegant,” the stallion continued as he wandered over to his saddle bags and dug out a carton of eggs. He took one out and brought it back to the boulder. Balancing it between his hoof and the rock, he took a very similar stance to the one before. Fletcher watched intently as the pony took a few long breaths.

With a sudden shout, a wave ran through the fur of Dizzy’s foreleg and the boulder was blown away like a watermelon shot with a magic blast. As the dust settled, Fletcher saw the pony gently tossing up and catching an egg that was very much intact. With a triumphant smile, Dizzy tossed it just short of Fletcher’s hooves, where the shell shattered and its contents spilled out over the ground.

“No funny business,” Dizzy explained with a wink. “So, are you ready for some instruction?”

The changeling stiffened up and gave a determined look.

“Absolutely, Master!”

-------------------**:**----------------------

Dizzy lead his apprentice to the entrance of an old cave. “You’ve made some substantial progress this week, Wildcard. Well done.”

Fletcher felt his cheeks warm at the praise. “Thank you, Master.”

“Today we’re going to test your mettle, but first I’m going to teach you a new trick,” the stallion declared. “Last night I tossed a delinquent critter in this old labyrinth. You can sense it, right?”

Fletcher nodded. A fair ways in and a little to the left, was a fuming emotional signature.

“Good, but here’s the real question,” Dizzy continued. “Can you tell what it is?” As expected, Fletcher shook his head. Dizzy nodded. “Right, well let me show you how to ‘see’ what you can’t see with your eyes... or elsewise. Close your eyes, and ‘look’ into your surroundings with your essence. How far can you see?”

Fletcher closed his eyes and took long steady breaths. He reached out into the ground with his essence and stretched out as far as he could go, which sadly, was only a little more than a meter radius. He could ‘see’ Master Spell beside him, including his beating heart and glowing essence, as well as a few tiny moles living under ground.

“I can see you, Master, but not much more than that. I’d say about a meter all around and a little ways into the ground. After that, it starts to get fuzzy,” he answered.

He saw Dizzy nod. “Good. Keep your eyes closed,” he instructed as he walked over and stood on one of the denser ‘looking’ rocks embedded in the ground. “Now, watch what I do and see what happens. This is called the surveyor's hammer.”

Fletcher watched Dizzy’s essence move into and reinforce the stone through his left foreleg and also build up in his right as he wound up a punch. He struck the stone hard and Fletcher saw a huge pulse radiate outward, ‘lighting up’ the world around them. Before them, he could see the entire labyrinth; every wall, every route… and deep within a large clearing, he saw what it was that was so angry.

“A hydra?! You tossed a hydra in there?!” he balked.

Dizzy shrugged. “Well I say tossed.”

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!”

“Come on, Mate. Don’t let panic force you into falling back on old habits, use what I taught you,” Dizzy yelled from the sidelines.

“HE WANTS TO EAT ME!” Fletcher yelled back, desperately weaving and dodging through the giant, living bear traps snapping at him as he ran. He was currently using the form of an earth pony to achieve best results with essence magic, but it was severely costing him in overall mobility. “AND HE HAS EIGHT HEADS WITH WHICH TO DO IT! WHY ISN’T HE GOING AFTER YOU AT ALL?!”

Dizzy chuckled and shrugged. “I’m pretty sure he knows better at this point.” He shook his head. “Come on, Wildcard, focus! What do you need to do first?”

Fletcher ducked behind one of the rock formations. “T-Take a deep breath to clear the mind-- AH!” he yelped as he abandoned the rock to its fate. He continued to avoid claw swipes and jaw snaps. “Con-- Woah! C-Concentrate internally on your essence and reinforce a path for flow-- DAH! --along the foreleg. Compress energy in the shoulder, and fill lungs-- AH! --to capacity. Make contact with target, and flex diaphragm to void lungs and fire compressed energy-- THAT’S ALL SIMPLER SAID THAN DONE, MASTER!” he yelled indignantly.

Dizzy smiled. “Most things are, Mate.”

“Could we not-- DAH! --have started with something simpler!? It’s fairly difficult to clear one’s mind when one is under-- AH! --constant assault!” Fletcher cried.

Dizzy shook his head. “This is how you grow, Wildcard. A military veteran like yourself? Aluminum can be cold-forged, but steel must pass through a refiner’s fire before it can be turned into something useful. You know how to perform the techniques, now’s the time to hone them in the type of environment you’ll be using them. No opponent’s going to wait for you to clear your thoughts, so you’d best learn how to do it while under duress,” he chastised him.

That wasn’t the answer Fletcher was hoping for. He ducked under yet another swipe. Jeeze! I’ve had about enough ducking and dodging! If only I could fly! Fletcher blinked. He was hit with the realization that it wasn’t Master Spell that said anything about what form he had to do this in, he had just taken the initiative because it was a lot easier to form a channel in an earth pony’s foreleg, than one riddled with holes.

Mentally kicking himself, he transformed into a pegasus and took off. Finally getting out of range, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. With a channel reinforced in his right foreleg, he glared down at his opponent. You’re going down.

Fletcher rolled into a dive bomb and wound up his hoof, focusing his essence in his shoulder as he plummeted. Falling within range, he launched his hoof with a loud roar, making contact squarely between the eyes of one of the hydra’s heads.

Crack!

It was no invisible mountain, but he’d just delivered a good deal more damage in one punch than Fletcher ever had before; the small crater in his opponent’s skull serving to prove as much. The hydra screamed, the abused head wincing and squirming in pain. Fletcher drew a full breath through his nostrils as he bolted for another head.

Bam!

He dislocated its jaw with another magically enhanced strike. The hydra’s heads wreathed and hissed at him as it cowered several steps back. Fletcher stared it down, panting as he landed on the ground. He heard his master’s hoof steps approach from behind.

“It doesn’t seem like our little friend wants to play anymore,” Dizzy remarked. He glanced at Fletcher and smiled. “Nicely done, Mate. You’ve got a ways to go, but I’m impressed with the amount of control you managed to pull off in the body of a pegasus,” he complimented.

“Huff, huff… Thank you, Master.”

--------------------**:**--------------------

Fletcher awoke from slumber, but found that the sky was still dark. The moon was still high in the sky, casting a silvery glow upon his surroundings, the fire now diminished to a few glowing embers. He noticed that Dizzy wasn’t in his ‘bed’, or anywhere within the campsite for that matter. Fletcher glanced to his right. He felt the stallion a little ways off in that direction, his presence emanating… remorse… longing…

The changeling’s ears fell. He’d noticed his master having these feelings a few times before, but the pony always seemed to chase them away and brighten up on his own. It was clear however, that something happened in his past that left him downtrodden. Perhaps tonight, Master Spell would be willing to accept his ear.

Fletcher got to his hooves with a yawn and stretched away the stiffness. He smacked his lips together as he left the protective ward of the bamboo torches, and strolled into the forest. He found Dizzy sitting at the edge of a small lake. Fletcher looked around with awe. He could see why the stallion would be drawn to such a place in the middle of the night, for only at night would such a place look this beautiful. The water’s surface was a perfect sheet of glass from shore to shore, a perfect mirror of the starry sky above. The full moon bathed the trees in silvery light, and fireflies danced above the water-reeds and lily pads. The entire scene spoke of serenity.

Fletcher quietly sat down next to his Master and stared out over the lake. “A little reminiscing?” he asked.

The stallion gave a low hum in the affirmative. He looked upward to the sky and let out a heavy sigh. “I used to catch my late sister squirrelling away in the middle of the night to places like this. She’d fly about over the lake like she hadn’t a care in the world. She was the textbook definition of a free spirit,” he said with a smile.

Fletcher’s lips curled up on one side. “You had a pegasus for a sister? What was that like?”

“Oh, she was the most gorgeous pegasus you’ve ever seen, Mate. Her coat was pure white, more so than freshly fallen snow. Her mane and tail were blue, like a crystal clear lake on a summer’s day,” he described as he gestured to the lake in front of them. “And her feathers…” his words trailed off with an air of awe, and he simply passed his apprentice what had been resting between his forelegs. It seemed like a long and slender stone.

As Fletcher took it and looked closer, the moonlight revealed that the jagged stone was actually clear as glass, and encased inside it was a perfectly preserved primary feather. Fletcher’s jaw dropped in awe as he turned it in the moonlight. The feather had a beautiful, perfectly blended gradient of yellows, greens, and blues.

“This came from a pony?” he asked in awe. It looked like a better match for a phoenix of some type.

Dizzy continued to smile as he gazed out at the lake’s surface. “Each one of her feathers could stand as a work of art on their own, but together?… an absolute masterpiece,” he said reverently. “She was very aptly named: Prism Feather.”

Fletcher smiled. “I assume then, that she had more colors on her other feathers?”

“Every color you can imagine, Mate,” Dizzy confirmed with a nod. Then he chuckled suddenly. “She usually didn’t know it, but once the fillies were asleep, I often followed her out to places like this and watched her fly from the lakeside. She’d dip down and stroke the lake, making the colors in her reflection smear like paint. Then as she pulled up again, she’d flick the water up with her, surrounding herself with millions of tiny prisms that captured her colors in the moonlight. An absolutely stunning sight,” he muttered wistfully.

Fletcher let him revel in the memory for a moment, before he allowed himself to ask his burning question. “Fillies, Master?”

“Hmm? Oh, yes. My brother and sister and I were charged with raising two little fillies. They… they were darlings,” he said somberly.

Fletcher winced. “Are… are they still alive?” he asked hesitantly.

“Yes…” he replied. Fletcher felt the pony’s emotions take a bit of a dive. “We aren’t in contact anymore though, sadly.”

“Perhaps we could plan a visit? A much needed reunion, I’m sure,” Fletcher asked hopefully, but to his dismay the pony’s signature dropped a little more.

“I… can’t,” Dizzy muttered, pain heavy in his voice as he turned his head away.

Fletcher winced. It seemed to be a very painful subject for the stallion. He grasped for a straw hoping it might salvage the situation. “How about your brother?” he asked.

This seemed to just make it worse, because now the stallion’s presence was filling with anger and disdain.

“My brother is in prison. He’s the pony who broke my horn… and killed my sister,” Dizzy muttered with scorn.

……. eep!

Fletcher desperately searched for a way to lighten the mood somehow.

Suddenly they heard a mare’s scream off in the distance. “Ahhh! Somepony help me! Please!”
Dizzy and Fletcher lept to their hooves and bolted in the mare’s direction.

“Help!” she cried again. The sound was getting closer. Eventually they came to a clearing where the sound was the loudest, but there was no one there. They heard her scream again just off to their right, but as they moved to follow, she screamed again, this time from the left. They turned around in confusion as they heard her calls coming from every direction, including where they had just come from. “Help me!....Somepony help!... Please, help me!....

Dizzy scowled as he hunted through the trees with his eyes. “Careful, Wildcard, I’m afraid we’ve been baited here by a malicious spirit. Keep your wits about you.”

He heard his apprentice cry out beside him, “Master! Lookout!”

Dizzy turned in the opposite direction and met a horrible creature’s face, mere inches from his own! It shook its head wildly at him and blithered like a turkey, its tongue and jowls swinging about haphazardly. The sudden proximity and horrifying sight were enough to startle even him.

“BAH!” he yelled as he fell back on his side. Before he had a chance to recollect his wits and launch a counteroffensive, the creature burst into flames…

...revealing a giggling changeling.

“Hahahahahahahahaha, you, you should have seen your face, hahahaha,” Fletcher teased.

Dizzy blinked. He glanced behind him where he’d just heard the changeling, then looked back in confusion. “W-what?”

Fletcher opened his mouth, and the mare’s voice they had been chasing sounded from the right, then the left, then skipped around to every corner of the clearing before it finally localized back to Fletcher’s mouth, and he finished by speaking with his lips.

The stallion broke out into laughter. “Ventriloquism? You cheeky little gremlin, you!” he scowled playfully as his took Fletcher’s offered hoof. “Who taught you to pull pranks?” he asked with a knowing smile.

“Well…” Fletcher replied mischievously, “I’ve had a few mentors in the past, but lately I’ve been taking pointers from a Pro.”

Dizzy laughed. Then he raised his brow as something occurred to him. “You had enough limress to turn into a Chupacabra?”

The changeling smiled and shrugged. “Been saving up... for the right occasion,” he said with a wink.

Dizzy smiled warmly in return. “Thanks, Mate.” He threw his foreleg over Fletcher’s withers and gave him a thankful squeeze before they made their way back to the lakeside. As they walked Dizzy started chuckling. Fletcher raised a curious brow.

“The fillies used to love playing tricks on us.” He snorted. “Heck, half the time they got their ideas from Prism. Those girls were naughty things, the lot o’them,” he chuckled to himself as they made it back to their spot by the lake.

“Speaking of naughty little fillies…” he shot Fletcher a mischievous smile, “you notice anything different about tonight?”

Fletcher’s brows creased in confusion. Tonight? Naughty little…

His eyes widened, and darted up to the sky. The moon……. It was blank.

“M-M-Master?” he stammered.

“Yes,” the stallion confirmed, “the Alicorn of the Night, formerly known as Princess Luna, has been released from her… time out. And believe it or not,” he said as he nonchalantly pulled out his pocket watch, “it’s actually 10:30 in the morning.”

“WHAT?!” Fletcher back pedaled, his internal clock sent reeling. When he woke up, it set itself when he checked the position of the moon, and since he’d been awake for 24 minutes, 42 seconds and counting, that should have made it roughly 3:30 am. What was going on? Princess Celestia usually rose the sun at 6:00 am sharp this time of year.

“Has Luna done something to her Sister!? Shouldn’t we do something, Master!?” he asked with growing concern. What would happen if the sun never rose again? He’d freeze! And if that didn’t knock him off, his only food source at the moment would starve to death himself!

Dizzy closed his pocket watch and casually polished it. “Don’t underestimate the Princess, Mate. Celestia has been protecting this country for several millennia, and has even had one to prepare for this very day. You can bet she has more than a few aces up her sleeve,” he said confidently. “If the sun hasn’t returned in a day or two then we’ll intervene. Until then, I wouldn’t sweat it.”

He stood up and dusted himself off. “Now come, we have much to do today and we’re burning moonlight.”

-------------------**:**-------------------

"Today's lesson is one I know you've eagerly been waiting for," Dizzy began.

An excited grin split Fletcher's lips, and his ears stood up even straighter than usual. The speed trick!

"Before we start, do you see that little cloud up there?" the stallion asked, pointing up into the sky.

Fletcher glanced at the cloud in question and nodded.

Dizzy gestured to the space in front of him. "Would you mind bringing it down here for us?"

Fletcher nodded and transformed into a pegasus before taking off and fetching the puffy white mass. He brought it back and set it in place before his Master.

Dizzy nodded his thanks. "Now, being a unicorn, I cannot interact with clouds, even when they're in reach..." He passed a forehoof through the cloud to illustrate his point. "I can't touch it, I can't move it. If I tried to land on it I'd fall right through it. This we know. The same goes for almost everyone who isn't a pegasus." Dizzy gestured to the top of the cloud, inviting Fletcher to hop up and take a seat on the floating cotton ball. "Now, since pegasi and griffons, and the like, are the exception, it can be said that the natural law regarding clouds is that they are objects that exist, but can't be interacted with." Dizzy gave his usual teacher's smile. "How is it then, do you think, that pegasi are able to fully interact with these basically intangible things as though they were solid objects?"

Fletcher looked down at his hooves and the cloud he sat on, considering the question. He blinked. How was he doing this? In his mind, he looked through the race's genetic code for differences.

Feathered appendages.

Hollow bones, reinforced by trabeculae.

Eyes with very slight, yet still perceivable, advantage in focus range.

Ligaments with additional springiness and flexibility for better agility and impact dampening.

....

Wait a second... I know for a fact that pegasi have greater resilience to the cold, as well as electric shock, but there's nothing here biologically that explains that. Or the cloud thing for that matter. If they're not the product of biology, the only other possibility would be...

"Magic?" he guessed. Then he deadpanned. "Pegasi are just like Earth ponies, aren't they. They're using magic and they don't even realize it."

Dizzy gave a sage nod. "That's correct. As I've said in the past, most folks only attribute 'magic' with the arcane work of creatures like unicorns," he said. "In fact, if you told a pegasus, or any other void-walker, that they were technically using magic, they'd probably just shrug and say 'call it whatever you like'. As far as they're concerned, all we're doing is giving it a different name. It doesn't change anything with regards to what they do everyday. However, by understanding that what they're doing is actually a form of magic that's basically going untapped, it changes everything," Dizzy said.

Fletcher was grinning from ear to ear. The earth ponies have no idea what they're capable of. He couldn't wait to explore the untapped abilities hidden in the pegasi heritage.

"Clouds are one of the few instances of an object that has qualities of both the Physical realm, and the Void realm," Dizzy continued. Fletchers ears twitched with excitement as he listened. "The Physical realm basically encompasses the universe as you're familiar with it: creatures and objects take up a physical space, and quote-unquote natural laws have their respective effects on them. If two objects attempt to occupy the same space for example, they cause a collision.

"Now the Void realm is quite interesting. It overlaps the physical realm, in that everything has a... presence there, if you will, but the Void realm has its own set of laws. You can think of it as the ghost of the Physical realm," he explained before digging through his saddle bags. Finding what he was looking for, he pulled out a sack of marbles. He gestured towards Fletcher's cloud. "We can set that aside now, come join me back on terra firma," he said with a smile.

Fletcher cast the cloud away with a shove and dispelled his disguise as he returned to his spot on the ground, watching as Dizzy pulled out a marble and placed it on the ground in front of his right hoof.

"Observe..." He tapped the marble, causing it to roll across the ground to his left hoof. "This is what motion looks like in the Physical realm, an object moves from point A to point B over a period of time." He grasped the marble with his aura again and moved it back to a spot between the two points. "If we study the path we just saw, we can see that at each particular point in time, the marble has a particular position along the path," he explained as he moved the marble to various spots.

"Movement in the Void realm however, is very different..." the pony continued. He dumped out his bag of marbles and picked out several of the same color. Then he neatly placed them in a row where the path of the first marble had been. He gave Fletcher a devious smile. "Time... is not a factor."

Fletcher blinked. He looked down at the marbles, then back up at his Master. Things went from simple, to strange and complicated very quickly. "H-how does that work?" he asked.

"While a Physical object is in the Void realm, all movement happens in the same instant, and the object is in every position at the same time, until the object leaves," Dizzy explained.

Fletcher's eye began to twitch a little. He opened his mouth several times, but he couldn't even think of a good question.

Dizzy chuckled as he watched his Disciple's reaction. "A demonstration might be in order. Follow me."

Fletcher shook off the puzzlement and followed his Master with a giddy smile as the pony led him to a group of trees. It had been almost six months since he saw him use that incredible speed against the scorpion, and he'd been under the effects of neurotoxins at the time. Fletcher was determined not to miss a signal detail this time.

"Stand right here, please," Dizzy instructed.

Fletcher watched as the pony walked over to a tree a few strides to the right, loosely wrapped the end of a string around the crown of an acorn, and levitated it up the tree, resting it on top of a thick branch. Then he walked over to Fletcher and gave him the other end of the string, as well as the end of a second string. "Hold these, please," he said before walking the second string over to another tree that was an equal distance on Fletcher's left side, and did likewise with another acorn. Finally he walked over and took a seat a few strides in front of Fletcher such that the two of them and the acorns formed a diamond shape.

"Alright, in a moment you are going to pull those strings so the acorns fall at the same time. Given the distance between them, it’s fairly safe to say that one would have a difficult time trying to catch both of them before they hit the ground, right?"

Fletcher cast a glance at the acorns before returning his gaze to his instructor.

Dizzy smiled. "I think it's pretty easy to see where I'm going with this... just, try not to blink," he suggested.

Fletcher nodded eagerly, locked his gaze on the stallion, and prepared to pull at the signal. Dizzy gave him a nod and he gave the strings a sharp tug. As planned, the acorns were yanked off their perches simultaneously, and began plummeting toward the ground. They were about four feet off the ground now, but Dizzy still hadn’t even moved. Three feet. Two feet. One. 10 inches. 8 inches. 6--

Bzzt

Suddenly, Dizzy appeared where the left acorn was falling, with not one, but two acorns dangling from his teeth.

Fletcher was astonished. He hadn’t even blinked and he still didn’t see any movement. The pony was there, and then he simply wasn’t there… but somewhere else. Wait… no, Fletcher thought as his mind finally caught up with what just happened. There was a small anomaly just before he disappeared. He… vibrated. No… There were duplicate images of him, all in different colors, flickering around the space where he was standing, like he was rapidly teleporting in place, offset each time by a few millimeters.

Fletcher saw a familiar trail of multicolored after images tracing a ‘path’ of actions he never saw the pony take. Dizzy galloped to where the acorn on the right had fallen, snatched something out of the air about 6 inches from the ground, then ran over to the left acorn and ended where Dizzy was now standing. Looking down at the ground, Fletcher blinked and shook his head before checking again. There were hoof prints!

Dizzy chuckled as Fletcher rubbed his eyes. “So… what, if anything, did you manage to glean from that?” he asked his apprentice.

Fletcher cleared his throat while he tried to compile his observations. “Well… visually it seems very similar to teleporting, but along with not producing any mana disturbance, there’s also no flash. There’s more of a quick buzzing sound rather than the typical burst noise. You also moved to two different locations, but unlike with teleporting, you didn’t actually appear and disappear again when you grabbed the first acorn. You just… had it when you appeared here.”

Dizzy nodded and opened his mouth to speak, but Fletcher continued. “Then, after you appeared, there was this delayed after image that ‘followed’ you and indicates the path you’ve supposedly taken…”

Dizzy raised a brow in surprise. He can see them? I didn’t think changelings were void-walkers… no, he turned into a pegasus when he fetched the cloud… How strange. Well, they are one of her’s I suppose… perhaps they lost the other traits in the tainting...

“...and now, somehow, there’s also hoof prints in the dirt,” Fletcher said as Dizzy tuned back in. “Does void magic freeze time somehow?”

Dizzy smiled and shook his head. “Not quite, no,” he answered. “It may seem like it though, because to move like this I’m entering the Void realm, moving, then leaving it again, and that only lasts for a pinpoint moment. Like I mentioned before, while a Physical being is in the Void realm, nothing they do takes any time,” he said. “Those apparitions you saw are a phenomenon that occurs when the two realms make contact. The Void realm has no time, so everything I did happened at the same instant, but the Physical realm, for lack of a simpler way to explain it, has a hard time accepting that, and because I’m a Physical being moving in the Void realm, you end up seeing what I did procedurally as if there was time. Not everyone can see the after images though, myself included.”

Fletcher pondered what had been said for a moment, then asked, “So then, could you travel anywhere in the world in an instant? What happens if you don’t leave the Void realm?”

Dizzy chuckled. “Trust me, you’ll always leave the void realm. This brings us to the limits of using this technique. You see, the Void realm is not a friendly place to Physical beings. Just being there is very taxing on the body, so when one enters the realm they strive to make their movements as minimal as possible. Every movement to be done in the Void realm should be planned out completely and with full detail before entering. You do not want to be making decisions while you’re in there. It makes using the technique rather tricky, and using it safely and effectively takes a lot of mental work.”

A small smile appeared on Fletcher’s muzzle. I think I’m going to like this.

“So what’s first, Master?” he asked with excitement, but it soon dropped when he felt a trickle of pity and trepidation coming the stallion. Now he wasn’t so sure if he was going to like this.

“Today I’m going to expose you to the Void realm. Then the next few weeks will be dedicated to building up your tolerance until you’re able to begin exercises in actually moving,” he answered with a stoic face.

Fletcher’s ears fell. It’s going to be weeks before I’m even able to move? The Void realm was beginning to sound like a scary place.

Dizzy stepped up beside him, bid him to sit down and gently rearranged his stance. Then he sat down beside him and rested a fetlock over his shoulder. “Hold as still as possible. Make the conscious decision that from beginning to end, you are not going to move, and when I say so, hold your breath. Are you ready?”

Fletcher was sweating, but he nodded his head.

Dizzy looked back towards the camp, picked up a small barrel of apples with his aura, dumped them out onto his blanket, and brought the barrel over beside them. Fletcher raised his brow, but before he could ask, Dizzy gave the signal, “Now.”

Fletcher tensed and held his breath, just before his ears were assaulted by what sounded like a ghostly shout, followed by chaotic, rushing winds. Everything looked darker, less vibrant, and slightly transparent. There was also a lot more occlusion. Fletcher couldn’t see anything past five meters or so, and the sky was dark and empty. All of this information was secondary in his mind, however, to the stinging sensation that was racking his whole body. It felt like hours, but it was all over in an instant. With another ghostly shout, the rushing sound was gone and the world was back in all it’s vibrant, sunny glory. Fletcher couldn’t appreciate it however, because he felt his insides lurch. He desperately grabbed the barrel Dizzy had ready for him and violently heaved.

Dizzy just sat next to him and rubbed his back as the poor changeling heaved several more times. After the worst was over he helped him wobble back over to the camp, and laid him down on his makeshift pillow. He placed a bowl of water before him and fed him a little by focusing on his pride in the changeling. “That’s all for today, Wildcard. Well done. You now stand at the base of the summit,” he said as he settled down on the other side of the fire pit. “One I will see you conquer.”

Fletcher raised his muzzle from the bowl, panting. “Of course, Master,” he huffed before rolling over in exhaustion. “...but not yet."

--------------------**:**--------------------

Dizzy was walking down the streets of town, picking up fresh supplies. He was passing by a cafe when he overheard a couple of mares.

“Did you hear what happened in Canterlot?” a mare asked her friend.

“No, what happened?”

“Here. It’s in the paper. A bunch of freaky bug monsters impersonated Princess Cadence and tried to take over the castle! Apparently they almost did it!”

Dizzy’s ear twitched.

“What?! How in the world could they manage that?” the other mare scoffed.

“The monsters can transform. They captured the Princess, and then their Queen turned into an exact copy of her!”

“That’s freaky!”

“I know, right? Princess Luna didn’t know Cadance very well so it’s understandable, but even Princess Celestia was completely fooled! And the Queen sucked so much power from them, she almost won!”

“Let me see that!” Dizzy blurted out as he ran over to their table. “Beg your pardon, Dearie,” he implored as he snatched the newspaper from the wide-eyed mare. His eyes scoured the article as he frantically flipped through the pages. “Oh no... No.. No! Those fools!” he growled, causing the mares to flinch.

The stallion let out a heavy sigh. They’ve ruined it for all of them.

The mares were about to say something, when he suddenly gasped. “Wildcard!”

He slapped a pair of bits on the mares’ table. “Apologies Ladies, but I need to take this. Here’s two for your trouble, Miss,” he said as he folded the newspaper and tucked it into his saddle bags, then he took off down the street.

The mares watched him leave for a moment before sharing a look.

“What was that about?”

Dizzy found Fletcher back at their campsite, and to his concern, he was in his natural form.

"Welcome back, Master," Fletcher greeted as he monitored the bubbling stew he was making for him. "I had a successful integration venture by myself this morning, including positive interactions with 42 ponies," he beamed. “The first was the most apprehensive, as usual, but I asked her to introduce me to others, like you said, and once she saw me interact with the first three ponies, I’d pretty much won her over. From there it went as smoothly as the ventures when I have you there with me. She was pretty well known in town, and her credibility helped alleviate any more apprehension. How did your supply run go? Did you find everything you wanted?"

Dizzy’s expression had turned grim. He glanced around for any signs of ponies approaching. "I have some bad news, Wildcard. You should probably put on a disguise and take a look at this," he advised before tossing the paper down in front of him.

Fletcher gave him a confused look, but as usual, he complied obediently. After switching to his usual pegasus disguise he'd come to call Urban Myth, he pawed at the paper to flatten the corners out. His eyes went wide when he read the headline.

Canterlot Attacked by Swarm of Shapeshifting Imposters!

"WHAT?!" he yelled furiously.

Of all the tactically foolish things a changeling could do, risking the chance of the Equestrian Royalty discovering their existence was right up there with strolling into a dragon's mouth... with a rope dragging every other changeling along with you!

I swear, if this was your doing, Atlas... he seethed internally as he read on.

Our nation's capital was attacked during Princess Cadance’s royal visit to Canterlot yesterday by hundreds of horrifying monsters never before seen in Equestria. The creatures, later determined to be called changelings, have the ability to shapeshift into anypony they see fit. They use their disguises to get close and suck out the souls of ponies with their nasty fangs.

“This isn’t even accurate!” Fletcher growled indignantly.

The changelings ambushed the Royal guard escort while they were enroute to Canterlot, and the evil Queen Chrysalis captured and impersonated our beloved Princess of Love.

Fletcher sighed. You're lucky Atlas.

Incredibly, the changelings' disguises managed to fool everypony, including Princess Celestia herself, who is said to consider Princess Cadance like a daughter! Over the course of a week, Queen Chrysalis managed to drain enough power from Princess Celestia that she was actually able to overpower her in a challenge for the throne. With Princess Celestia incapacitated, and the recently reformed Princess Luna still recovering her magic, the future of Equestria looked bleak.

But right in the nick of time, the real Princess Cadance arrived with her liberators, the Elements of Harmony! Young Twilight Sparkle, the Element of Magic and Personal Student of Princess Celestia, and her baby brother Shining Armor were regularly babysat by Princess Cadance when they were little. Sparkle noticed something was off about the would-be Princess of Love. and because the evil Queen failed to do her research on the Princess' relationship with the young unicorn, her entire invasion plot was shaken up.

"She tried to impersonate ROYALTY and didn't do a thorough intel investigation!?..."

Dizzy was slightly taken aback, seeing his disciple frustrated to the point where he struggled to express himself with one voice alone. Multiple voices echoed from the changeling, all spitting different expletives and spiteful terms synonymous with the foolishness of this individual. "Do you know this Queen?" Dizzy asked.

Fletcher huffed, trying to let some of his frustration go. "Thankfully no, but judging by the pictures, it looks like she and her hive are Chickery changelings, which might explain their stupidly rash move," he scoffed.

"Oh? How so?" Dizzy asked curiously.

Fletcher pointed to the picture. "Chickeries are one of the only breeds that don't use broodmares and stud stallions. The Queen lays every egg herself, whether she has acquired seed or not. Since it's 'not' in most cases, the drones she lays end up only slightly better than mindless golems that follow her every order."

Dizzy raised a brow. "Not to sound mean, but how is that different from the drones in your hive? The one changeling that didn't follow orders got cast out."

"R-right," Fletcher muttered awkwardly, "orders are always absolute, but the difference is most Queens have intelligent drones with actual brains in their heads to consult and counsel with before giving said orders. Queen Chrysa-dufus here probably didn't have anyone to tell her what a stupid plan this was," he scoffed as he gestured angrily at the paper. With a sigh he continued reading.

Armed with the Elements of Harmony, Sparkle and her friends revived Princess Celestia and gave her the strength to cast a selective repulsion spell. With the help of Princesses Cadence and Luna, the spell was amplified enough to banish the entire colony far away from the capital city!

The monsters' invasion attempt has been thwarted, but changelings still pose a threat to public safety. Citizens are advised to verify the identities of friends and loved ones and establish a code or signal for verifying each other in the future. Citizens should also be on the lookout and report any suspicious activity to the Royal Guard.

Fletcher shook his head. "Those...idiots," he growled through clenched teeth.

Dizzy's expression was condoling as he stepped forward and placed a hoof on his disciple's shoulder. “I’m sorry, Mate. It seems we'll have to lay low on our integration initiative for quite some time. Ponies will know what a changeling is now, and their impressions of you wont be positive.” He sighed. “We’d best pack up and get going, before any of the ponies you met in town get word of this.”

Fletcher let out a defeated huff, before nodding in resignation. The future of pony/changeling relations would be forever damaged now.

--------------------**:**---------------------

“This the place?” Dizzy asked as he joined his apprentice in front of a casino.

The covert changeling nodded.

“How many are there?”

Fletcher scowled. “They’ve got 12 mares. They’re holding them two floors below, locked in individual rooms,” he muttered through clenched teeth.

Dizzy nodded. “I did some digging. Our boy goes by the name of Biggie Deal, shortened from Biggardi. He owns three of these casinos, making him one of the more clever diamond dogs I’ve come across.”

Fletcher turned to his Master with a restless fire in his eyes. “This is killing me, Master! I’ve been sensing their pain and despair ever since we got here! Six of them have ‘visitors’ even as we speak! Why won’t you let me liberate them?!”

“Because, we need to do this right,” the pony replied stoically. “If you just burst in there, busting traffickers and smashing locks like you want to, we won’t be able to prove that he’s been forcing those fillies into this. He likely has their loved ones under threat, so we wouldn’t be able to get them to testify. The only reason we know they’re being held against their will is because of your ability, and we won’t be able to use that without blabbing your secret directly to the authorities,” he explained.

Steam puffed from Fletcher’s nostrils as he huffed in resentful acceptance. “The diamond dog I can understand, but how could stallions do such a thing? Ponies are usually so good to one another… I don’t get it,” he seethed.

Dizzy sighed. “They don’t call this place Sin City for nothing, Mate.” He looked up at the casino with a dangerous look. “Make no mistake, Wildcard, not only will we free those poor girls, but we’re going to do it making certain that Biggie can’t bounce back again. We’re going to make sure that scoundrel pays dearly for this,” he promised. “Here’s the plan...”

Biggie Deal looked up from his desk and saw outside his office windows that one of his employees was escorting a white unicorn stallion with a yellow mane toward him. The stallion was wearing a pristine, white satin suit, dark, gradient tinted sunglasses, and he was carrying a large briefcase in his magic. The diamond dog entered his boss’s office and briefly closed the door behind him.

“A Mister Lemon Zerga to see you, Sir.”

Biggie raised an amused brow. “High bidder?” he asked with a low mutter, his code for a big spender.

“Very much so, Sir.”

Biggie’s ears twitched. He stood up gracefully and buttoned up his suit coat as he strode to the door. As he stepped outside, the pony looked up.

“Ah, Mister Deel. Your reputation precedes you. Your casino is v’ry beautiful,” the stallion greeted with a thick, musky accent. “My name... is Laymon Zerga.”

Biggie opened his arms in a welcoming gesture. “The pleasure is all mine, Lemon Zerga, Sir. Welcome to the Emerald. Would you like me to set you up with some chips?”

The pony shook his head. “Ehhh, not tonight, thenkyou. No, I am rather looking to enjoy your… other entertainment,” he said, raising his eyebrows suggestively. “I am told this is the right place, yes?”

Biggie rubbed his paws together and grinned. “But of course, Mr. Zerga. We have many delectable dishes to choose from. What will your pleasure be this evening? Prench? Bitalian? The exotic ‘Black and White’, perhaps?”

Behind Zerga’s sunglasses, there was the smallest glimmer of an eye twitch, but Biggie Deal would receive no sign of the danger he was in, or of the terrible beast that lay in wait to rip him apart.

“No,” the pony answered stoutly, causing the diamond dogs to flinch in surprise. He laid his briefcase down flat and placed his hoof over it. “I wish to sample from the entire buffet…” Zerga pulled the briefcase open, revealing perfect bundles of crisp, new bills. “...‘all you can eat’, yes?”

Unable to take his own eyes off the money, Biggie had to feel around a bit before he could find his employee’s dropped jaw and push it back up. Finally shaking his head, he regained a semblance of composure. “My, my. You certainly have a large appetite, Mr. Zerga.”

“It has been a long day of traveling. After I have had my fill, I will require many… pillows upon which to lay my weary head,” Zerga replied with a grin.

A sly smile formed on Biggie’s muzzle. “But of course.” He leaned over to his employee and muttered, “Escort Mr. Zerga to the guest lounge and prepare his room. Do not make him wait long.”

“And the other guests, Sir?”

“Dismiss them. If Mr. Zerga want’s the whole buffet, he’s going to get every crumb, is that clear?”

The diamond dog nodded. “Understood, Sir.” He then gestured down the hall. “Right this way, Mr. Zerga, Sir. If you’ll kindly follow me.”

As his employee led his most important customer of the night down the hall, Biggie closed up the case and hid his prize in his office under his desk.

Just as he tried to return to his work, another employee came into his office. After a huff of exasperation, he addressed him. “Yes?”

“Sir, it appears as though Lady Luck has chosen another Champion this evening. There’s a stallion at the roulette table. He started from a single bit, and has won his way above $20,000… on more than one occasion.”

Biggie gestured for him to continue.

“He always bets all-in, save for his one bit principle. He’s lost it all three times now, but every single time he’s managed to come back up from that single bit. He’s gotten as high as $50,000, Sir,” he added.

“Have the magic detectors gone off?” Biggie asked.

The diamond dog shook his head. “No Sir. As far as we can tell, he’s an earth pony--”

“As far as you can tell?” Biggie asked with a raised brow.

“Well, there’s a chance of course that he could be hiding wings under his cloak, but he’s certainly not hiding a horn, Sir. Irregardless, the detectors haven’t gone off, so we’ve no reason to suspect magic. That, and he does lose occasionally, but we still thought you might like to know about it, Sir,” the dog finished with a bow of his head.

“Thank you,” Biggie said as he stood and buttoned his coat up again. “Lead the way.”

The owner followed his employee out onto the casino floor and up to the edge of a large crowd that had formed around one of the roulette tables. He leaned over to his employee’s ear. “Does our Nemesis’ Champion have a name?”

“A Mister Dizzy Spell, Sir.”

“Very good, thank you,” Biggie dismissed him. Then he plastered on his winning smile and made his way through the crowd. “Well, well! Looks like we’ve got a hot table over here! Is everypony feeling lucky?” he projected charismatically. The crowd responded with cheers.

At the center of the crowd, Biggie found a blue stallion with a black hat and cloak sitting with piles of chips in front of him. There had to be more than $60,000 worth. Whether he was lucky or cheating, Biggie had to get this guy off his streak before he won any more. To Biggie’s surprise, however, the pony addressed him first.

“Ah, Mr. Deal. I was hoping to get your attention at some point tonight,” the stallion said. He was leaning casually against the table. “I’d like to speak with you about a prospective business deal.”

Biggie lifted an eyebrow with intrigue. “Is that right? Shall we have one of my boys cash your winnings for you and retire to my lounge, then?” he offered with a gesture.

The stallion gave a confident grin. “Sounds like... a plan.”

“Mr. Zerga, Sir, your accommodations are ready,” the diamond dog said after poking his head into the guest lounge.

“V’ry good,” the stallion responded. He stood and followed the dog down the hall to an elevator, which brought them down two floors. The hallways down here were still beautifully decorated, but the lighting was dimmer, and the atmosphere was far quieter than the bustling casino above. The dog lead Zerga down to the end of the hall, where an ornate door with a golden handle awaited. The diamond dog stood next to the door and bowed, displaying the key to him with his paws.

“I trust there will be no interruptions until morning?” Zerga asked with a stern tone.

“But of course, Sir. Not unless you request something. Please, enjoy your… meal,” the dog finished with a sickening smile.

Zerga nodded stoically and stepped inside. He slowly closed the door behind him and locked it.
Fletcher let out an exasperated sigh. Finally. It had been incredibly difficult to restrain himself from strangling those infernal mutts... but that would have to wait.

The room was luxurious as expected. There was even a mini kitchen. But all that Fletcher was concerned with, was the line of mares laid out on two combined King-sized beds. Although Fletcher felt their fear spike when he entered the room, they showed no signs of movement. He rushed over to the side of the bed and waved a hoof before the first mare’s face, but her eyes were glazed over and she seemed to stare right through it. When he placed his hoof on her barrel to check her vitals however, her panic levels went through the roof, yet her cries of alarm only came out as a soft moan. Her best resistance, a feeble flex of her muscles, until they gave out and went limp again.

Just as Master suspected, they’ve been sedated, Fletcher thought angrily.

“Shh shh shh, it’s alright,” he cooed. “I’m not going to hurt you. I’m going to get you out of here.” His horn came to life as he summoned the glasses from the kitchen’s cabinets, and ran the water cold.

Looking down at the mare’s neck, he scowled. All the mares were bound in thick, metal collars, and chained to a bar running along the base of the headboard. He tried to focus his magic on the lock, but the moment he did, he felt it absorb the mana. An anti-magic lock.

Guess they aren’t taking any chances. He looked up and down the line of mares and, seeing that they were all in the same state, set his hooves upon the sides of the first mare’s collar.

All possible witnesses are incoherent. Release restrictions to level one.

Fletcher closed his eyes and focused. He let out a slow, steady breath as his essence reached into, and explored the form of the collar. He was about to target the tumblers in the lock, when he noticed an even easier weakness he could exploit. The collar was built, such that the hinge was concealed from the outside, but whoever designed it hadn’t anticipated tampering from the inside. The collar began to get a little warm as he caused the hinge to vibrate at high frequency, until the hinge pin crawled right out of its place. With the hinge disengaged, Fletcher cracked the collar open and cast it away.

Fletcher cradled the mare in his forelegs and propped her up, despite her delirious moans of protest. Such a strange and terrible state their minds seemed to be in. Judging by their fear, their minds were clear enough to know the terrible things that had happened to them. They were expecting more of the same, but their senses were too dulled to give them sufficient visual or auditory information, their muscles too placid to obey commands. Fletcher sat on the bed and laid the mare up against himself.

It was clear that they were too incoherent to comprehend words, but the mare had responded to touch, so he tried to convey reassurance that way. Certain she was used to aggressive handling and grabbing, he hoped a gentle touch would send a different message. He rubbed her neck where the collar had matted her fur, and he felt a pause in her signature. One of her forelegs flexed for a second. Fletcher smiled and lifted the hoof for her and helped her feel her own neck. Now her signature was filling with confusion, so Fletcher summoned one of the folded blankets at the foot of the bed. He draped it over the mare’s lower body and tucked it around her ribs.

“It’s alright, Luv. Nopony’s going to do anything to you tonight.” he said warmly.

Did I just call her ‘Luv’? He thought with a blanch. You’re rubbing off on me too much, Master.

Relief flooded into her emotional presence at a growing rate. As a full glass of water levitated over to them, Fletcher wet the tip of his hoof and touched her lips. Upon feeling the sensation of moisture, the mare licked her lips, her tongue meekly searching for more. Fletcher tipped the glass to her lips, her meager sips gradually evolving to hungry gulps as the cool liquid slowly rejuvenated her. As she finished, Fletcher swapped the glass out with another full one and let her have her fill.

He pulled a small case out of his suit and opened it. Then, as he put the second glass aside, he tapped the mare’s lips.

“I’m going to need a little assistance to help me help you,” he muttered despite her incoherence. Another tap on the lips and the message seemed to get across as the mare opened her mouth slightly. Fletcher unwrapped a swab from the case and quickly stroked the inside of her cheeks. He sealed the swab in a tube and gently lowered the mare back down on her pillow, draping the blanket over her and tucking her in to let her sleep off whatever they drugged her with. All the trepidation and panic had been chased out of her signature and replaced with peace as he gently stroked her mane.

One down…

Fletcher put his hoof on the rod that all the other mares were chained to and went along one by one, pushing out their hinge pins with his essence. He knew his master probably could have done them all at once, but his skills weren’t quite refined enough yet to spread his essence out that much.

Someday, he thought with determination.

He broke off each of the mare’s collars, gave them water, and took a sample from them. Having tucked them in, he left the room and closed the door. Sensing no presences in the halls, he reverted to his true form, the silk suit reverting back to the saddle blanket he had used. Opening his mouth and unfurling his tongue, he dribbled out a bit of plasma onto his hoof, then he used his magic to levitate it into the door’s keyhole, flooded the lock, and solidified it.

You’ll be safe, till Master and I come back for you.

“So, Mister… Spell was it?” Biggie asked as he led the pony into the lounge area in front of his office. The pony turned in circles as he followed, taking in the lavish decorum of the room. Like every other room in the casino, the walls were draped in green velvet, but in this room they were accentuated with gold leaf designs. The ceiling was supported by marble columns, and every edge around the room was embellished with beautiful mahogany crown molding and baseboards. On each side of the room were rows of jade pots filled with flowers that had a beautiful gradient from pale blue in the center, to dark pink at the petal tips.

“That’s correct,” the stallion answered. “Ah, are these plumerias?” he asked as he stepped up to one of the pots and smelled the flowers.

"Mhm. Pleasant, aren't they?" Biggie replied, watching the pony closely. "Please be sure not to eat any of them. They're strictly decorative."

Dizzy chuckled and shook his head. "I wouldn't dream of it," he waved him off. "Though they do smell deliciously refreshing," he added before taking a seat in one of the luxurious lounge chairs across from Biggie. The pony let out a contented sigh as he settled into the chair and laid the case containing his winnings by his side.

The Diamond dog folded his paws and regarded his guest with a calculating gaze. "So then, Mr. Spell, you have my undivided attention. What is it you'd like to talk about?"

"Well, I know you have many of your own business ventures, including 3 casinos, a cider brewery, and a cart company," Dizzy listed off, "but those aren't the only golden cows on your ranch, are they?" he added with a grin. “At least not according to word on the street.”

Biggie raised a cautious brow. "You've certainly done your research, Mr. Spell.” He paused a moment, studying his guest before proceeding. “I have many assets spread about that reel in the green for me, yes,” he confirmed. “Brothels are not illegal in this city. There is a demand, so a good opportunist provides a supply," he answered with a shrug.

"Ah Yes. Legalized at that unfortunate time when cases of rape were at an all time high. I remember,” Dizzy said with a nod. “One must take advantage of such a… lucrative opportunity... assuming those under your employ are participating of their own free will, surely?"

"But of course. They take pride in taking good care of our guests," Biggie replied confidently. Any hint that he was lying through his teeth was skillfully hidden.

"Of course, of course," Dizzy muttered through a fake smile. "Well at any rate, I came because I wondered if perhaps you were interested in becoming a venture capitalist for somepony else's business venture?"

Biggie leaned forward, resting his chin on his folded paws. "I'm listening," he said. "What is it that you're thinking of doing?"

"Delicacy candies and treats, made using exotic fruits and flowers from around the world," the stallion replied.

Biggie raised a curious brow. "Interesting. You make candy from flowers?"

"Oh, yes. Take your plumerias for example," Dizzy said as he gestured to the flowers. "Plumerias come in such a wonderful variety of colors and inviting scents, such as honeysuckle, citrus, grapes, ginger, coconut, peach, and many more. Actually, speaking of plumerias, did you know that there is a very rare flower that looks very similar to them but smells deliciously of vanilla and mint... much like yours actually?" Dizzy asked pointedly.

For just a brief moment, Biggie's eye twitched. "You don't say?"

"Indeed. It's called Temptress' Quagmire, because it smells so inviting but it actually harbours optical, auditory, and neuromuscular blocking drugs, which render you paralysed and unable to see or hear clearly. Quite a frightening trap, indeed."

Biggie shifted uncomfortably, but forced his practiced smile.

Dizzy continued with a fake laugh. "Actually, if you think about it, it's quite bold of someone that happens to be running a brothel to decorate the same building with flowers that look and smell so similar to such a dangerous plant… not that you’re using drugs on your... employees, of course."

Biggie's smile was fading.

"But of course, there are precious few that are aware that such a flower even exists, so if they really were Quagmires, displaying them in plain sight to be mistaken for plumerias would be the perfect way to keep one's unsavory practices concealed, now wouldn't it?" Dizzy finished with a knowing smirk.

The diamond dog glared at him through narrow eyes. "Who are you?" he seethed.

Just then, the door at the other side of the lounge creaked open and a white stallion walked in. Biggie Deal was on his feet immediately.

"Mister Zerga, Sir! I'm just with another guest at the moment, is there something that isn't to your liking?" he asked, a nervous bead of sweat forming on his forehead.

"Many things, Mr. Deal, but don't trouble yourself on my account," the stallion replied. "I got everything I needed."

Biggie's eyes widened. The stallion's foreign accent was completely gone. He watched in stunned silence as the pony he believed to be his best guest of the night, walked over to the other stallion and passed him what looked like a set of vials. Biggie's eyes narrowed as his teeth clenched in anger. A sting op! He'd been had!

"Ah, and here we find saliva samples from the 12 mares you claim are willingly under your employment," Dizzy said as he received the vials and tucked them away in his cloak. "I'm sure the forensics department of the Royal Guard won't find anything in here that would be at odds with that claim, correct?"

The Diamond dog was surprisingly calm as he adjusted his suit, sat down, and leaned back in his chair. "It’s true that a forensics test would show that my mares are on a medication, but that leans quite heavily on whether you manage to actually deliver such samples to the authorities,” he said darkly as he opened his chair’s armrest, pulled out a small bell, and rang it.

Dizzy simply smiled. “Biggardi Deal, in accordance with Equestrian law, I am hereby placing you under citizen’s arrest for the foal-napping and trafficking of ponies--”

“And a Zebra,” Fletcher coughed out beside him.

“...and ask that you cooperate until the proper authorities arrive. If you resist…” he continued, as he shot Fletcher a wink, “...the Equestrian Crown permits us the use of force.”

“Force.” The diamond dog snorted out a laugh. “That’s cute,” he muttered, as six diamond dogs took their places at his sides. Then the floor shook as a burly minotaur bounded in and stood behind Biggie’s chair. He folded his arms with a menacing glare as steam puffed out of his nostrils.

“Well, I would say it’s been fun...” Biggie said with a scowl as he stood up and buttoned his suit, “but it hasn’t. I’ll be taking my leave now, Gentlecolts. Enjoy your stay at the hospital.”

The diamond dogs cracked their knuckles as Biggie retrieved the case of money from his office and left out the back.

Dizzy ignored them and calmly stood up from his chair. “Looks like you’re up, Wildcard. Be sure not to over do it. The Royal Guard will take issue with us if they feel we were too excessive,” he said as he headed for the door.

Fletcher sighed in disappointment, causing the bodyguards to raise their brows.

“I’m going to take these samples over to the station and fetch the authorities,” Dizzy continued, “though I’ll be sure to… take my time,” he said as he headed for the door to the casino floor.

One of the dogs attempted to pursue the pony, but the small glass vase that had been on the coffee table moments before, whipped past his muzzle and crashed into the wall behind him. He glared at Fletcher with a growl.

Just before Dizzy left the room, he poked his head back in. “Oh, and Wildcard?… restrictions released to level three.”

Fletcher’s eyes widened. Then his expression melted into a wolfish grin. “You spoil me, Master.”

…

Time crawled to a halt as Fletcher visualised his opponents in the darkness of his mind.

Minotaur: bipedal bovine with a muscular upper body, opposable digits, and sharp horns. Primary weakness: lower body.

Diamond dogs: bipedal canine with claws, fangs, and a similarly top heavy frame. Typically follows pack mentality.
Primary weakness: sensitive hearing.

Injuries must appear to remain within the bounds of acceptable use of force. Mask attacks to internal tissues and organs with standard brawl strikes.

In his mind’s eye, Fletcher saw the minotaur flip the table at him.

First: Vanishing act.

Fletcher leaps off the floor and allows the table's broad surface to obscure him from view. Before it makes contact with him, he void walks behind the Minotaur.

Surprise party.

He gives the bull a jab to the left tarsal joint*, but uses his essence to redirect the blow to every muscle from hoof to buttock.

Smash the Pinata...

Then he strikes the right stifle joint*, redirecting the impact to the intestines and genitals.

...and bring it to the ground.

As the Minotaur doubles over, clutching his nether regions, Fletcher sweeps his legs out from under him, and the bull falls hard on his belly. Recovering from their confusion, the diamond dogs begin to charge him.

The mutts will attempt to rush and pin their target down. Subdue with dog whistle.

Fletcher releases an ultrasonic screech, stopping the dogs in their tracks, wincing and holding their ears.

Prepare ammunition.

Fletcher grabs the closest dog and punches it in the stomach, rebounding the impact within, from the liver to the lungs, and back to the diaphragm.

Carnival games.

He throws the diamond dog over his shoulder at two others.

Sleight of hoof.

Before the dog flies into them, Fletcher void walks behind them and touches their backs. Using the impact of their comrade colliding with them, and the inevitable crash with the wall they’d be having to mask his attack, Fletcher strikes them in various ligaments and organs to ensure they don’t get back up for a while. Then he returns to the position he threw the dog from, creating the illusion that he never moved.

Infuriated, the three remaining dogs charge him.

Merry-go-round.

As the first dog comes within range, Fletcher punches it in the stomach and flips it to the ground over his shoulder. Then he grabs it by the leg and releases an ultrasonic screech again. As the two remaining dogs stop to cover their ears, Fletcher swings his ‘weapon’ around like an olympic hammer thrower, knocking them all out with a bash to the skull.

The festivities are now over, please discard all trash in the proper receptacles on your way out.

…

Time resumed as Fletcher looked up at the group with a smirk. “You boys like carnivals, no?” he asked with his thick Lemon Zerga voice.

The guards growled and the minotaur kicked the table up at him. They watched the table fly to the end of the room and smash against the wall. The dogs moved to chase after it and drag the pony out of the wreckage, when they heard the minotaur beside them grunt in pain. The pony was behind him!

“How ‘bout megic shows?” he teased as he kicked the minotaur’s legs out from under him, bringing him to the ground with a heavy slam. Shaking away their astonishment, the diamond dogs attempted to surround and seize the pony, but they were stopped cold by a paralyzingly ear splitting screech. They winced and covered their ears as hard they could, trying to escape that horrible sound.

Fletcher ran up to the closest one, punched him in the stomach, and threw him at two other dogs, smashing the lot of them up against the wall.

With the sound no longer blaring in their ears, the final three charged him from the corners of the room. Fletcher received the first one with a shot to the stomach and flipped him over his shoulder to the ground. Then, as the other two closed in, he grabbed their companion by the leg and swung him around like a ball and chain, bashing his head into their skulls.

As the last of the guards fell in an unconscious heap, Fletcher dusted off his hooves. “And now to find something to bind you up with-- hurk!” Fletcher slapped a hoof to his muzzle. Eyes darting about, he located a trash bin and frantically ran for it.

Huuuuugh! Uuuuuugh!

Panting, he can’t help but feel a small pang of regret as he regarded the voided contents of his stomach. Much of it hadn’t even finished converting to plasma, but it still felt like an unfortunate waste.

Current tolerance to the Void realm is more limited than previously estimated. Consult with Master Spell about having conditioning sessions with released restrictions more often.

He wiped his muzzle and bound the guards’ wrists with their belts, or a chain in the minotaur’s case, and then ran after Biggie Deal.

The diamond dog had gotten a few blocks away in that time, but not far enough that Fletcher couldn’t track him.

Biggie slowed to a more casual pace as he tried to blend in with the crowds in the street. He looked around, and seeing no one pursuing him, he ducked into one of the alley ways.

“So you like screwing around with drugs do you?”

Biggie yelped and wheeled around to face the voice behind him, only to get a cloud of white powder blown in his face. He backed away coughing, and glared through his tears at the white pony that sabotaged his operation.

“What did you just-- Cough Cough*.” He straightened up as best he could, trying to keep his cool, and his distance. “So… you got away and left your buddy behind in order to chase me down, huh? Ha! Go ahead and arrest me if you can, Pal. Even if you manage to pull it off, I’ve got more than enough to post my own bail,” he gloated, dangling the case of money in front of him.

“You haven’t got enough money in that case to buy an apple,” Fletcher scoffed with a smirk.

Biggie’s eyes widened. He cracked open the case and his face paled. The illusion spell Dizzy helped Fletcher to cast had faded, revealing the bills’ true form as ‘buy-one-get-one-free’ coupons for flea and tick shampoo. The diamond dog bellowed in rage and threw the case at the pony before running down the alley.

Fletcher dodged the projectile and watched him run away with a sly grin. “Try not to wet those dapper looking slacks of yours…”

Panting, Biggie looked back as he ran. Either he’d lost his pursuer, or blondy thought he was being clever and was trying to circle around to cut him off. Whatever the case, Biggie hung a left, making his way deeper into the dark network of back alleys. He growled through clenched teeth. He still couldn’t believe this was happening. He had nothing left! Those infernal ponies would rue the day they thought they could mess with Biggie Deal!

Biggie stopped suddenly as a cold chill ran up his spine. He thought he heard someone whisper something in the shadows.

“Foooooalnapperrrrrr…”

There is was again. An eerie whisper on the wind, but this time it came from somewhere else.

“Thieeeeeeef…”

“Slaaaaaverrrrrrr…”

“Defilerrrrrrr…”

More and more voices, coming from every direction. They sounded female. Biggie looked around frantically. They seemed to be getting closer.

“Mooooooonsterrrrrr…”

As Biggie turned back the way he came, he yelped in horror as he met face to face with a mare. He instantly recognised her as one of his products, but the terrifying difference was that her eyes were completely blackened out. Her mouth was oozing a sickening dark sludge, and she was burning! Ghostly green flames licked and tore through her mane and fur. Paralyzed with fear, all Biggie could do was quiver……... until it screamed.

“RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

To say that unholy sound could curdle blood was a horrible understatement. It was as if hundreds of tortured demons were trying to escape through her mouth! Biggie fell back screaming and covered his face…

...then there was silence.

After a long moment’s hesitation, Biggie finally peeked through his paws, only to find nothing there. The burning mare was gone.

Panting, he clutched his chest. It wasn’t a bluff. That blasted pony really drugged me! He shakily rose to his feet and took off with an unsteady run. Up ahead was another turn off. He winced as he approached, his imagination and fear running wild. Sure enough, he was met by the burning face of another mare he had foalnapped, and another hell wrenching scream. He covered his ears and ran as hard as he could.

Scream after scream, he was continually haunted by apparitions of the mares he enslaved.

“It’s not real. It’s not real!”Biggie told himself. “They’re just hallucinations! None of this is real!”

That’s when he slammed into something solid and fell back on his tail. He clutched his face till the pain subsided. He growled his annoyance at the wall he’d run into… until he heard it growl back. Shaking, he looked up to find that the wall he’d run into was in fact a massive manticore.

As out of place as a manticore in Los Pegasus would be, this one looked like it crawled out of the deepest depths of Tartarus! It looked like it was wearing its skeleton on the outside, and just like the mares, it was bathed in green flames. Its eyes were alight with furious green fire as well.

A deep, guttural voice thrummed from the beast’s throat. “Real or Not as we may be… the reality of your sins shall haunt you long after your body recovers from this, Biggardi Deal,” it threatened as it leaned a massive paw on the diamond dog’s legs and pressed its weight on them. Biggie screamed as his bones began to splinter and snap, until the pain racked his body to the point of fainting.

Dizzy and Fletcher bumped hooves together as they watched the city guards drag Biggie and all his cronies away, the traumatized diamond dog rambling nonsense as the stretcher he was strapped and cuffed to was rolled into the carriage.

“...When I finally found him his legs were crushed under a large wine barrel. I think he must have caused it to drop on top of him when he ran into the delivery cart behind Green Dragon Pub,” Fletcher finished telling the Sergeant his story.

A satisfied grin appeared on the guard’s lips as he finished scribbling on his clipboard. “A well deserved dose of Karma, huh? Not even close to filling the scoundrel’s prescription in my opinion, but thankfully that’s what the court system is for.” He looked up at them with a pleased smile. “Very well done, Boys. Biggie’s been on our radar a long time for all sorts of shady stuff, but he was so meticulous with his tracks we couldn’t get anything on him. Never even realized he was trafficking. With the drug evidence you got us, the cornerstone of his whole conspiracy fortress has been plucked, and he’ll be going away for several lifetimes. The Crown thanks you both,” he said with a firm salute.

Dizzy gave a nod. “Thank you for your hard work, Sergeant Nimbus.”

As the guard trotted away, he turned and called back, “And thank you for seeing that those poor things get back home where they oughtta be. You’re goin’ above the call of duty, and it’s appreciated.”

Fletcher and Dizzy smiled and waved, when Dizzy noticed a white powder on his hoof. He looked to the hoof he’d just bumped it with and found it there too.

“Wildcard, what is this?” he asked curiously.

Fletcher snickered. “It’s corn starch. Biggie’s going to rant, rave, and insist that I drugged him with something, but they’re not going to find a thing in his system.”

Dizzy laughed. “Brilliant. I hope you gave him a good scare.”

“Oh, he’ll be having night terrors for years to come. I spent more than a month’s worth of limress to make sure of that,” Fletcher assured him.

“I see,” Dizzy said with a satisfied grin. “You must be exhausted then.”

Fletcher nodded, so Dizzy turned and led him into the hotel. Arriving at the penthouse suite, they found the mares lined up along the wall of glass that overlooked the city. They sat quietly with blankets around their shoulders, watching the activity below. They had come off the effects of the drug somewhat, after they had a chance to rest peacefully, and were given medicine to help flush out their systems.

Dizzy placed a hoof on Fletcher's shoulder as he addressed them, "Ladies, this is my apprentice, Fletcher. You have him to thank for tonight’s rescue. Without him we never would have known you were here, and Biggie Deal could have kept you hidden for years to come."

The mares shuddered at the thought.

"You see, Fletcher is not your typical pony," Dizzy continued. "In fact he's not actually a pony at all."

Ears perked up as his audience listened with new intent.

"He belongs to a race of beings that have empathic abilities. That is how he was able to find you. From the moment we entered the city, Fletcher knew how much you girls were hurting."
He laughed suddenly. "You have no idea how difficult it was to keep him from immediately storming the casino in a bloody rage to come and save you."

The mares looked at Fletcher with awe and a renewed sense of gratitude, while Fletcher blushed under the attention.

"The reason I'm telling you this, is because many ponies, in their ignorance, are associating Fletcher's kind solely with a terrible event that involved only a specific group of them. Fletcher and I are trying to show ponies that not all of them are the same. I ask you ladies to remember Fletcher and the tenderness with which he has treated you, as well as the fact that if it weren't for him being what he is, you would all still be trapped in the basement of that casino.

"However, if there are any among you who do not wish to remember the things you’ve gone through, we wouldn’t blame you. It just so happens, that Fletcher has a spell that can erase those memories for you, if you wish," he added.

Fletcher balked at the stallion as the mares turned to him with eager, almost desperate looks.

"It all depends on what you use it for, Mate," Dizzy whispered as he nodded towards the girls.

The changeling looked back and regarded the mares. Of course. He never would have imagined in a million years that anyone would want to have their mind altered. He never considered that it could be a blessing to someone.

Fletcher took a few steps toward the mares, but then he hesitated. He knelt down on the ground and said, "Before I begin, I... I need to revert to my true form... Ponies tend, especially these days, to have adverse reactions to my natural appearance... I... I promise it's still me--"

To Fletcher’s relief, Dizzy stepped up beside him and laid a foreleg around his withers.
"Ladies, after what's been said and what Fletcher has done for you, can we safely agree that there's nothing my apprentice here could turn into that would change your opinion, or take away your appreciation for him?" Dizzy asked.

The mares shared a few looks and nodded happily. Fletcher smiled, even though he could sense a little apprehension underneath the surface.

"Fletcher is called a changeling," Dizzy continued. "There was a hive led by a very zealous and foolish Queen that attempted to take over Canterlot. There are many hives and even different breeds of changelings, and right now they're all experiencing the consequences of one Queen's foolish actions. You Ladies have seen first hoof that Fletcher is not like those changelings."

With that, Dizzy nodded at his apprentice, and Fletcher dispelled his disguise. A few of the more squeamish mares let out a scream despite themselves, before they managed to clamp their muzzles shut. With sheepish expressions, they nodded to the changeling, promising to keep it together for his sake.

Fletcher returned a weak smile, electing to fold in his fangs for this group. He stood up and approached the mare at the left end of the line.

"Do you wish to forget all this?"

The mare nodded. Fletcher lit his horn and leaned in to touch her forehead, but she suddenly pushed a hoof against his chest.

"Wait... I owe it to you two to remember what you did for me. Don't take everything, just... the night they took me, and all those horrible moments in those rooms...I...I don't want to relive those," she whimpered as she almost broke down into sobbing. "I have to remember that this happened though. I'll never forgive those monsters for what they did to us, and I need to help ensure it never happens to anypony else."

Fletcher saw the other mares nodding. That seemed to be the consensus. He gave the mare a compassionate smile as he wrapped his hoof around and cradled the back of her head. "Of course."

"One more thing?" the mare continued. "Please don't take this moment either. I'm not sure what it will be like to have holes in my memory..... but it will be reassuring to know they're gone because you got rid of them for me."

Fletcher gave her a nod, and touched her forehead with his horn. He combed through her memories, wincing at some of the horrible things he witnessed, and destroying the plagues in question. His task complete, he pulled away. The other mares watched with eager anticipation as the mare experimentally tried to remember something she'd asked to have taken away. Her expression flooded with excitement and relief.

"Oh, thankyou!" she breathed as she threw her forelegs around his neck, much to the excitement of the other mares. "Thankyou so much."

Fletcher's dark cheeks brightened just a little. "It was my pleasure. I only wish we had been here sooner."

They broke their embrace and Fletcher made his way down the line. Even the mares that had screamed, and were still feeling somewhat skittish around him, had decided their desires to have their memories wiped outweighed the fear they had.

He finally made his way to the mare on the end, and was surprised to find that her presence lacked any sort of trepidation or apprehension whatsoever.

As he stepped up to her she gave him a big smile and started making strange gestures with her hooves. She pointed at him, drew a circle around her face, then rested a hoof on her crest and shook her head. She touched his chest plate and tapped on it with the timing of a heart beat and gestured to her smile. Next she pointed to his forehooves and then brought her own up to her face and rubbed her cheek on the back of her fetlock.

Fletcher blinked and raised a brow. At his confusion, the mare's expression turned doleful.

Perhaps she's handicapped in some way.

Fletcher sat down on his haunches and used his forelegs for a few sign language gestures.
"Are you by chance, deaf, or mute?" he asked.

The mare gasped, her face beaming with excitement. "Yes! Yes! " she responded with proper gestures this time. "I was born with underdeveloped vocal chords, so I'm mute... sadly."

"So you can hear me then?" Fletcher asked out loud.

She nodded happily. "I'm sorry about all that," she signed, referring to her behavior earlier. "I never thought you would understand me if I used sign language.” She paused and tilted her head. “I'm surprised you know it, actually. It's so rare to find anypony that's fluent these days."

Fletcher nodded. "Equestrian Sign Language is quite different from changeling hoof signals, but I'm fluent in the majority of languages on this side of the world," he explained.

The mare nodded with understanding. "I see. I was trying to tell you earlier that it doesn't matter to me what you look like, I know you have a kind heart and gentle hooves," she signed with another bright smile.

Dizzy stepped up to Fletcher's side. "What's she saying, Wildcard?"

Fletcher looked back to him and blushed a little as he translated her words.

The stallion smiled at her. "I'm glad to hear it," he said. "What's your name, Luv?"

She made a few gestures to Fletcher, who cringed in response.

"Really? I'm not much of an expert in pony names, but isn't that kind of mean of your parents to call you that?" he asked.

The mare shook her head vigorously. "This is who I am. I love my name," she signed, her smile ever present.

Dizzy bumped Fletcher with an elbow.

"Oh, right! Sorry! She says her name is Silent Night," he translated.

Dizzy smiled."How pretty. Where's home for you, Silent Night?" he asked.

"She says she's from Canterlot. She... " Fletcher choked on the words she told them. "She says... she believes the dogs targeted her because she wouldn't be able to scream... She says thank you for waking her up from that awful nightmare," he finished. Then he turned to her. "Here, let me take care of that for you."

He approached her and cradled the back of her head like he did with the others, but before he touched her head with his horn, he leaned in and whispered in her ear, "I apologise. Now that I’ve heard your name out loud, I think it's rather beautiful."

He touched her head and combed through her memories for her. When he pulled away, she lept up, threw her forelegs around his neck, and gave him a tight squeeze. Fletcher chuckled as his blush returned. "You're welcome."

Dizzy turned and addressed the mares again. "Right. Now that that's taken care of, Ladies, I've taken the liberty of booking the Golden Lion's penthouse suite for the week. We'll have you all rested up and pampered, then arrange your trips home, courtesy of Biggie Deal's roulette table!"

--------------------**:**---------------------

Fletcher woke in the early morning, just as the morning mist started to glow with the sunrise. With a big yawn, he stretched the stiffness out of his muscles, letting his blanket slide down his back. Suddenly his ears perked up.

Wait a second…

Master Spell wasn’t anywhere within sensing range. Fletcher’s eyes shot open and he frantically looked around. To his horror, not only was his Master not close by, but their camp was half cleared. Searching for an answer, his eyes eventually landed behind him.

There on his hind quarters, was Dizzy’s lavish tapestry blanket. Fletcher’s own blanket was gone, which meant Dizzy had evidently left the better one for him.

“Master… why?…” he could only whisper.

A breeze picked up and Fletcher could hear paper rustling. He looked over to see a note fluttering underneath a rock, as if it were calling for him. Fletcher grimaced. He had a feeling he wasn’t going to like what was on that paper. After a deep breath, he clasped the note in his magic and brought it over. His ears drooped as he read the first few lines.

Fletcher, my Dear Friend,
I can’t apologize enough for having to tell you this way, but I’m afraid we must part ways at this time. Something has come to my attention that urgently needs to be addressed. Unfortunately, I have to do so without your help. If you think ponies are taking unkindly to changelings these days, you really don’t want to meet the folks that live where I’m headed. I know you would be more than willing to follow me despite them, but your disguises won't fool them, and I’m not willing to give them the slightest opportunity to harm my Apprentice.

I have no doubt that it would take very little for you to track me down, Wildcard, which is why I must ask you to promise me that you will not make any attempt to follow me. This is important. In fact, since I won’t be there to hear it, I want you to promise yourself instead.

I know things will be difficult for you without me, but I have faith in you. You have the power and potential to change the world, for your kind and ours. I really mean that. Keep practicing the things I’ve taught you. You know what the conditions are for releasing your restrictions. You have the foundations sufficient to be able to advance on your own somewhat. But as always, don’t share these things with anyone. And never stop learning new talents, Mate. I don’t want to come back to find a stagnant Apprentice.

I’m afraid I must ask one more thing of you. I’m sure you will meet lots of new people on your adventures, but I want you to also promise me/yourself that you won’t tell anyone my name. It takes away the thrill of meeting new people when they’ve already heard of you. I know I can count on you, my friend.

I shall return to Equestria one day, and I’m certain we will meet again. Until then, may Faust keep a constant vigil over you in my stead.

Your loving Master and Friend,
Discerning Spell

Fletcher looked up from the letter to the sunrise, tears streaming down his good cheek.

“I shall do as you ask, Master... I promise,” he whispered. “Please… come back soon.”

---------------------**:**--------------------
Canterlot Castle, Present Time

Back in the throne room, Fletcher was drawn from the dark recesses of his mind by a gentle hoof raising his chin. He slowly opened his eyes, and was met by the soft expression of the Princess of the Night herself. He felt something coming from her. It felt like... sympathy?

Why?

He mentally shook it off. It didn’t matter. Once you’ve resigned yourself to execution, allowing anything to get your hopes up is just a bad idea.

“Princess? What are you doing, your Highness?” he asked wearily.

Luna cast her own lie detection spell over the changeling.

“Is it true what Captain Feather said about you?” she asked.

Fletcher blinked.

…

“F-forgive me, your Highness, but I wasn’t listening...”

Author's Note

(author’s note: to save you from looking it up, the tarsal is like the heel if you were to compare bow-legged creatures to a human standing on the ball of the foot)
(stifle is like the knee)

Yes, I put Epona in the list of names that Galaxia goes by. No, I did not take it from Zelda, despite my love for the series. Epona is the mythological goddess of horses. Where do you think Nintendo got it from?

Yay! Nopony died this time!

...Geeze, you make me sound so horrible...

So you're gonna take us back to the throne room next time right? With the filly?

Yes. It's finally time.

YAY!!!

Ahem.

Oh yeah! Don't forget to like, fav, and comment!

Atta girl.

Chapter 8: Verdict

......
Did...did you just...

Yep.

But it's just barely been a week!

I know.

H-how?

Shorter chapter. It's exactly as long as it needed to be. Plus I had much of it written already. Don't get used to it or anythi--GLOMP*

IloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveyou.............

A few moments earlier:

“That was beautiful. Quite stunning, even.”

Everypony in the room, save for Fletcher, looked up to find the Princess of the Night standing in the royal entranceway next to the throne.

“Luna. You’ve awakened early, Dear Sister,” Celestia said with surprise as her sister joined her on the dais.

Luna gestured out the windows. “The evening is getting on, Sister,” she pointed out with a dainty yawn. I was already awake in my chambers when I heard several curious noises, including the cry of a foal. Then, I heard him,” she said with a gesture toward the changeling. “That was quite possibly the most beautiful sound to come from a single creature that I’ve ever heard. Praytell, Sister, what is going on?”

Princess Celestia had a sad expression on her face. She turned and looked toward the changeling.

“This changeling, by the name of Fletcher, came to the castle today disguised as a pony. He came to report that this little filly’s parents had been killed by gryphon bandits. The gryphons were all killed as well, and according to his original statement, he had found them that way, but a lie detection spell confirmed that it was in fact he, himself who had killed the gryphons in the defence of the ponies,” she reiterated.

Luna raised a brow. “The changeling defended ponies? Then… given the circumstances, perhaps you could overlook his crimes?” she asked.

“I’ve already pardoned him for the murders, Sister,” Celestia replied.

Luna glanced at the changeling and the circle of guards. “Then why is he in custody?” she queried.

“It was after I had pardoned him that he let slip that I was not his Princess. I wondered if perhaps the scar on his eye was the result of being ostracized from a neighbouring country, or the mark of a rebel group. When I brought it up, however, he surrendered and revealed himself to be a changeling, which brings us to where we are now. We’ve yet to determine if other action is required,” she answered.

“He revealed himself willingly?” Luna asked, her brow unable to rise any higher. “How curious--”

She was interrupted when the doors burst open and a pegasus guard flew in.

“Forgive me your Highnesses for the interruption, but this is very urgent,” the guard said as he hovered beside the Solar Princess and saluted. “Captain Swift Feather reporting, your Highness.”

Celestia nodded. “Continue, Captain Feather.”

“Forensics just finished analyzing the scene of a crime that was reported about an hour ago. Two dead ponies, and five dead gryphons. While evidence proved that the pony couple had been killed by the gryphons at the scene, unique hoof prints prove that a single changeling killed the gryphons, and based on the condition of the bodies, that changeling is extremely dangerous. It is of the utmost importance that this individual be tracked down immediately!” the guard said frantically.

Celestia calmly pointed to Fletcher. “Be at peace, Captain. We have already found him.”

The guard looked to the center of his brethren for the first time, and his eyes widened with horror.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” he yelled at them.

They all stared back at him, perplexed.

“That’s not enough to restrain him! He needs to be completely tied up in chains at the very least!”

Cadence raised her brow. “They have him shackled and restrained, Captain, not to mention surrounded. Surely you’re over reacting?”

The guard frantically shook his head. “You don’t understand, Princess! Four of the gryphons showed absolutely no signs of struggle, or even movement, before all their spines were broken! They were all facing each other, which means they were either blind, or none of them saw him kill the first one before they themselves were killed!”

“Would that not simply suggest that there were more attackers?” Celestia asked. “It sounds as if they were killed at the same time by four different assailants.”

Again the guard shook his head. “No your Highness. One of the few things we learned about the changelings after the invasion was that all changelings have a different constellation of holes in their legs, which in turn means they have unique hoof prints. Each gryphon had the same hoofprint shaped bruise on their backs, which means not only was it done by one changeling, he used the same hoof every time.

“But I haven’t even gotten to the most frightening part: the last gryphon had his pelvis crushed by a single hoof strike! And that was only one of his countless injuries! I’m telling you, that changeling is abnormal!”

The guards holding Fletcher had skeptical looks, but a few of the surrounding guards gave the changeling an anxious glance and brought chains forward to bind him with.

“Stop!” the Lunar Princess yelled. “If he had any intention of escaping, and is as capable of doing so as you say, I’m certain he would have done so long before this point.”

The guards paused and looked to Celestia. As Solar guards, their final orders came from her. Celestia hesitated. His behavior was very odd for a changeling. She would have suspected that he was simply trying to gain their trust so he could betray them later, had the lie detector not confirmed that he attacked the gryphons to defend the ponies, and that he brought the filly here to bring her to safety.

She finally nodded. “Do as she says,” she ordered.

Luna nodded her thanks to her sister before she stepped down from the dais and walked toward the changeling. The guards tensed, but she waved them off. She sat before the changeling and regarded him closely. Taking off one of her shoes, she raised his chin.

Fletcher was drawn from the dark recesses of his mind by a gentle hoof raising his chin. He slowly opened his eyes and was met by the soft expression of the Princess of the Night. He felt something coming from her. It felt like... sympathy? Why?

He mentally shook his head. It didn’t matter. Once you’ve resigned yourself to execution, allowing anything to get your hopes up is just a bad idea.

“Princess? What are you doing, your Highness?” he asked wearily.

Luna cast a lie detection spell over the changeling herself.

“Is it true what Captain Feather said about you?” she asked.

“... F-forgive me, your Highness, but I wasn’t listening,” he apologised.

Luna gave an understanding look. She explained, “He said that you struck so quickly, that four gryphons which had a clear view of each other didn’t even see what happened to any of them. Is that true?”

Fletcher closed his eyes. “It’s true your Highness,” he said softly.

Luna noted the sphere’s blue color before moving on. “Could you free yourself now, if you wanted to?”

Fletcher hesitated.

“...yes.”

Upon seeing the sphere turn blue, the guards holding him growled.

“I’d like to see to try, you little-”

“Silence!” Luna spat.

The guard shut up, and even recoiled when Celestia gave him a hard look.

Luna regarded Fletcher again.

“Are you quite sure?” she asked with amusement. “Assuming the three alicorns in the room didn’t intervene, there are at least 20 armed guards in this throne room alone, and you can’t use magic. Do you really believe you could make it all the way out of the castle if you tried?”

Fletcher meekly looked the Princess in the eyes and nodded.

“Yes.”

Once again the sphere turned blue. The guards growled and murmured to each other, while the Princesses raised their eyebrows.

Luna held up a hoof for quiet. “While I would very much like to know how, the more important question would be: If you can free yourself, then why haven’t you?” she asked.

Fletcher looked away. “For the same reason I surrendered, your Highness. My Master taught me the things he did, because I promised I would never use them unless I was protecting someone. Protecting myself from arrest doesn’t count. These are good ponies that are simply doing their jobs. I don’t wish to hurt them.”

That’s when the guard lost it. The changeling was pitying them? Was he really trying to cover up the fact that he didn’t have a prayer of escaping, by pretending to show them mercy?! Private Honor didn’t care what the detector spell said, the bug was full of it! For all they knew, changelings were impervious to lie detection.

“Like Tartarus, you cocky little Roach!” he yelled as he punched the changeling in the stomach, one of the only spots where the chitin was soft.

“PRIVATE!” The Royal Sisters screamed.

Once again, the guard recoiled under the hard glares of the Princesses and instantly regretted his lack of self control, but it was too late. The commotion already woke the poor filly, and her echoing cries filled the room. Cadance tried to sooth her by rocking her back and forth.

“Private Honor,” Princess Celestia said sternly, “I’ll see you in my office after this is through.”

The guard gulped, trying to make himself as small as possible while still holding the changeling. Luna finally tore her glare away from the guard and looked at Fletcher.

“Are you alright?” she asked.

Fletcher didn’t answer. He was too busy staring at the filly with concern. Luna followed his gaze and observed the crying filly. She turned back to Fletcher, the sight of all the guards, and she clenched her teeth.

“Enough of this!” She grabbed Fletcher’s chin and turned his head to face her. “Answer me once and for all, Fletcher. Do you have any intention of doing harm or wrong to anypony in Equestria?”

Fletcher looked at her with surprise. “N-no your Majesty… n-not unless they should harm an ally, or anyone else for that matter that didn’t deserve it,” he replied.

Luna watched the sphere turn blue. “And who exactly do your allies include?” she asked.

Fletcher looked down at his hooves. “I… I haven’t very many anymore… save for my Master, really, but I don’t know where he is. I haven’t seen him in several months” he answered. The sphere turned blue.

“Who is your Master?”

Fletcher’s expression brightened as he thought of him. “The kindest stallion I’ve ever met, and the first pony to give me his trust despite knowing that I am a changeling. Aside from that, I can’t say much. He asked me not to tell anyone who he was, and I promised him I wouldn’t,” Fletcher said resolutely.

Luna raised an eyebrow. “Really? Even if it could mean your freedom?” she asked with amusement.

Fletcher looked her in the eyes and asked, “Would you have one of your trusted guards betray you in exchange for his life?”

Luna was taken aback. She wasn’t being completely serious, so she hadn’t expected such an answer. It... was an admirable display of dedication… or a very dangerous one, depending on the character of his so called ‘Master’.

“This Master of yours, does he have any ill will towards Equestria, or any plans to use you in any schemes to inflict harm or wrong on Equestria?” she asked with narrow eyes.

“No. It’s quite possible that he loves this country even more than you, yourself, Princess,” he replied confidently. “We’ve travelled to many places around the world, and I could always tell that he was the happiest whenever we returned to Equestria.”

“Then why would he ask you to promise not to tell anypony about him?” she asked.

Fletcher sighed. “I doubt it’s the real reason, but what he told me was that his favorite part about traveling the world was meeting ponies and other creatures. He didn’t like it when someone had already heard of him before he met them. Again, I don’t know if that’s all there is to it, but I had enough love and respect for him to promise him anyway.”

Luna watched the sphere turn blue and felt satisfied. “And what of your hive? Were you present, or did you otherwise have any part in the invasion of Canterlot?”

Cadence and Celestia both perked up.

Fletcher shook his head. “It wasn’t my hive that invaded Canterlot. Those were Chickery changelings. Even if it had been my hive, which are Emepera, my hive banished me almost six years ago. This mark on my eye means I can no longer consider them to my allies.”

The sphere turned blue and Cadence felt a tension that she’d been holding ever since Fletcher revealed himself, finally release.

“Emepera? There are different kinds of changelings?” Luna asked.

Fletcher nodded. “If ‘changeling’ is my species, ‘Emepera’ is my breed. Like a dog, or a penguin,” he answered.

“I suppose that explains why you are so much bigger than the other changelings we’ve come across,” she said.

Fletcher nodded. He stood at eye level with Princess Luna. Or at least he would if he weren’t dangling by his forelegs in the Solar Guards’ grasp.

“Why were you exiled from your hive?” Luna continued.

“...I was part of the Queen’s Elite Guard... and I defied her orders,” Fletcher said quietly.

Cadence tensed up again, and Luna gave the changeling a cautious glance.

“... And why did you defy her?”

Fletcher looked down. “She wanted to invade Atalanter... I openly refused,” he answered.

The sphere confirmed his answer, and Cadence released a sigh of relief. She liked this changeling. Something she never expected to be able to say.

Luna gave a mischievous smile. “And should you find yourself as an ally of Equestria, would you ever betray it in favor of your former hive, should they attempt to reclaim you?”

Fletcher looked up at the Princess with shock. “Y-you can’t be serious, Princess. You would see me released?” he asked incredulously.

The Princess just smiled. “Answer the question please.”

Fletcher couldn’t believe this was happening. Everytime I think I’m about to die… You truly do have an angel or two looking out for me, don’t you, Faust?

He swallowed. “... s-should Equestria truly consider me to be her ally, and for as long as she should show as much, I would happily give my last breath to defend her, even….. should her attackers be from my former hive.”

He prayed it would never happen, but even if he had to fight an old hivemate, he was confident he could capture and subdue just about any creature now. And if by some circumstance he couldn’t… he would simply have to remember that those changelings didn’t belong to him anymore. If the Equestrian Princesses were willing to welcome him into their world, he would have to show his loyalty in kind.

The sphere was as blue as ever, and all three of the Princesses smiled.

“Very well,” Luna said happily. “Release him!”

The guards hesitated.

“Princess, you don’t really believe this sally sob story, do you?” Private Honor asked incredulously. Like he was going to believe a changeling refused to hurt anypony to the point of being exiled.

The Lunar Princess fired him an infuriated glance. “You saw the lie detector spell, did you not?! Do you doubt my magic?!”

“N-not your ability to cast, your Highness,” he answered nervously, “b-but how do we know changelings aren’t impervious to such a spell? How do we know they can’t manipulate them just like they manipulate voices?”

Luna didn’t take her eyes off the guard as she spoke, “Fletcher. Why did your hive put an ‘X’ over your eye when you were exiled?”

Fletcher looked to Luna, but she was still glaring daggers at the guard. “When a changeling is exiled, they receive the customary ‘X’ somewhere in their chitin, to mark them to other changelings, and also to compromise any attempt to replace someone’s loved one convincingly. Normally, changeling injuries heal very quickly, but a special blade is used that makes the mark permanent. It’s… basically a death sentence.”

Luna continued, “Now let’s suppose that a changeling could somehow manipulate my spell, with an anti-magic clasp on his horn, then considering how important it is to a changeling’s survival to be able to pull off a foolproof disguise, Private Honor, do you really believe a changeling would do something like that to himself, and bring an orphaned filly to our doorstep to boot, just to pull the wool over our eyes and steal a bit of love? That seems a bit overkill, don’t you think? I’m certain there are simpler, less elaborate methods that could accomplish the task--”

“The last changelings to show up at our door were hardly here to steal a bit of love, Princess!” the guard blurted out. “And that filly is obviously just another one of them! It’s probably another powerful Queen that he’s trying to smuggle into our hooves!”

Fletcher’s eyes widened in alarm. “No, your Highness! I swear! She is exactly as she appears. She needs your help, I beg of you!...” he pleaded.

Luna gave the guard a look as she gestured to the blue sphere while Fletcher spoke.

“...I’m the only changeling within a 25 meter radius of here, I swear to you!” he declared.

Luna blinked. That was oddly specific. She turned to the changeling. “What do you mean? How could you know that?” she asked.

Relieved that the Princess didn’t seem to be heeding the guard’s words, Fletcher took a breath. “We’re empathic,” he explained. “I can sense every sentient presence within 25 meters of here, none of which are changelings, I promise.” The sphere continued to shine blue.

Luna was surprised. Like most ponies, she didn’t know much about the way changelings sensed the world. “Really? How... interesting,” She muttered as she shared a glance with her sister. Then she turned her attention back to the guard. “At any rate, Private, there is no evident reason to convict him, and--”

“You’re giving him your trust too easily, Princess--”

“And why should I not give him my trust, Private?! After all, he satisfied all my queries while under lie detection. What reason do you see to convict him?” she asked angrily. She was well past annoyed, and was starting to lose her patience.

“He… because…” the guard stammered. He really didn’t have a solid reason to convict Fletcher specifically, but so many reasons to convict a scuzzy shapeshifter. “He’s a changeling!”

“AND WE USED TO BE NIGHTMARE MOON!!!” Luna bellowed, her frustration causing her to fall back on old habits. “If anypony understandeth how precious ‘tis to be trusted, and how difficult ‘tis to regain that trust once it hath been tainted, ‘tis Us, Private! Release him! NOW!”

As the filly cried louder, the guards hastily released the changeling, unlocking his shackle and clasp. Fletcher dropped to his hooves and rubbed his neck.

Luna pointed at Private Honor. “Thou shalt report at once to Mine Royal Sister’s office! The rest of thee, return to thine posts before ye maketh Us frighten yonder foal any further!” She barked, before she returned to the throne pedestal and began to rub her temples.

Princess Celestia wrapped a wing around her and stroked her back. “Luna, dearest, your Modern Equestrian is slipping,” she said softly.

The Lunar Princess moaned. “We art aware, Sister Mine….. We art too exceedingly wroth to put forth the required effort at this time.”

After the guards rushed to their respective posts, Fletcher lowered himself into as deep a bow as he could manage.

“I cannot thank you enough, Princess Luna,” he said humbly.

The Princess continued to rub the sides of her head. “Comfort yonder filly and We shall call it equally just, Master Fletcher,” she muttered off the cuff.

Fletcher scrambled to his hooves. “Yes, of course, your Highness!” he said as he rushed towards Cadence and the foal. He’d been dying to quell the poor filly’s fears since she started crying again. He stopped short of the Princess of Love and meekly asked for permission with his hooves. She smiled and gently hoofed him the foal. Fletcher pressed the filly to his chest, and gently swayed back and forth as he began to chirp again. The Princesses all marveled at how the filly seemed to instantly calm down under the changeling’s care, and settled into a soft mewling.

Celestia leaned over to her sister and whispered, “I could guarantee, that every mother in Equestria wishes they had one of him.” The Royal Sisters shared a giggle.

Luna nodded. She closed her eyes and listened to the song. “‘Tis easy to see why the filly enjoys the sound, so,” she remarked. “It’s... very soothing…” she added eventually, her Old Equestrian fading away again. “...I would think that such a high frequency sound would make my headache worse, but it’s actually making me feel very relaxed...”

Without tearing his gaze from the filly, Fletcher explained, “I’m tuning the sound to counter your emotions. I can sense your frustration, and I’m doing my best to alleviate it,” he finished before continuing to chirp for the filly.

The Royal Sisters blinked, and looked at each other. “Oh. He’s a keeper!” they said in unison and giggled. Fletcher had to look away to hide his rising blush.

Cadence smiled at the exchange and turned to him. “So you’ll take the foal now, then?” she asked.

The sisters looked up. Fletcher’s song died in his throat as a remorseful expression washed over him. He subconsciously took a few steps back.

“I… I can’t,” he whispered.

“But why not?” She tilted her head in confusion. “You’re so good with her. Even I couldn’t calm her down, and that’s saying quite a lot. That, and I can totally see the little gleam in your eye when you look at her. The one that says you want to keep her,” she finished with a teasing smile.

Fletcher shook his head. “No, no, you don’t understand, your Highness. I would if I could, but that would kill her,” he said, stroking the filly’s mane.

The Princesses gave a puzzled look.

“How so?” Luna asked.

Fletcher explained, “Changelings don’t actually steal love, we receive it. Or rather, we put ourselves in a position to receive it by disguising ourselves as someone’s loved one. We can’t control the flow, just stand in the way with our mouths open, so to speak. The problem is, if a changeling is ‘receiving’ your love, you start to feel side effects. Princess Celestia, when I first walked in as a unicorn, at any point did you feel a slight draft?” he asked.

The Solar Princess frowned. “I did, actually.”

Fletcher nodded. “Exactly. By the way, your Majesty, that was the most love I’ve ever felt anyone give to a complete stranger before. It was a humbling experience to feel just how much you really do love your subjects,” he told her.

Princess Celestia’s face lit up with a genuinely thankful smile... which puzzled Fletcher a bit. I don’t think she gets told nice things like that often enough.

He continued. “First, a changeling’s victim will start to feel colder and colder, until they get sick. At that point, if the changeling doesn’t do something to put someone else in the way of the stream, like return the one they’re replacing, the victim will eventually die. The problem with children is that they love their parents and caregivers unconditionally,” he said.

“How come we don’t feel cold or anything now?” Cadence asked, eliciting the curious nods of the Royal Sisters. “You’re not hurting the foal right now are you?!”

“No! No! Don’t worry. It’s because you are aware that I’m a changeling, and you’re conscious of it. I learned this when I met my Master. When you express emotions for the changeling itself, and not for its disguise, you won’t feel the side effects at all. She’s ok now because I’m not in disguise, but if I changed, she wouldn’t know it’s still me, and that’s where we’d have an issue,” he answered.

“So, why don’t you just stay out of disguise around her?” Cadence suggested.

“Are you kidding? I couldn’t raise a pony foal in this form, I’d terrify her. I have fangs, and creepy eyes that glow in the dark! Ponies all over the country, adults and children alike, are currently having nightmares about us!”

Cadence smiled. “She’s been watching your eyes for a while now, and she doesn’t seem all that frightened to me.”

Fletcher looked down at the foal and was surprised to see her eyes for the very first time. They were beautifully serene pools of blue, and she was in fact, silently watching him. He couldn’t feel any fear coming from her at all. In fact, what was coming off her seemed like… curiosity? More so than that, she seemed content. He could sense that she felt safe, and that baffled him. He gave her a soft smile and she returned it, causing his heart to practically melt. He stared at her for a moment... before he shook his head. No, there are still problems!

“No, I couldn’t find a place to raise her and stay in my real form without frightening other ponies! And even if that was a non-issue, I have no way to feed her!” he exclaimed.

Celestia gave him a coy smile. “Couldn’t you just turn yourself into a mare and nurse her yourself?”

Fletcher deadpanned. “Not only would that be incredibly weird, as a stallion, but I believe I’ve already explained why I can’t do something like that. There are very few bonding rituals between parent and child that are more potent than mammals nursing, and she certainly wouldn’t know it was me.”

The Princess of the Sun suppressed a laugh. “Yes, of course. I just couldn’t help it. You’re quite adorable when you blush like that.”

Pointing it out made the poor changeling blush even more. He cleared his throat and looked away. The Royal Sisters looked at each other for a while, having a silent conversation with their eyes. Until they both nodded, and Luna turned to the changeling.

“I believe we have a solution, Fletcher. Since we would like to keep you close at hoof anyway, and we have the resources, we would like you to take up residence in one of the castle’s guest rooms, and become the filly’s main care giver. We will have supplies brought in from Canterlot hospital, as well as have the Royal Doctor and Nurses check up on her periodically. Anything you need to ensure the foal and yourself are well looked after will be at your disposal.”

Cadence cut in, “And I’ll be here for a few months on Royal Business, so I’ll be able to help you too~” she said sweetly.

Fletcher’s good eye was tearing up. He couldn’t believe his luck. One minute he was in shackles, the next, they were rolling out the red carpet for him. Ponies really were among the kindest in the world…

...he wouldn’t take advantage of that kindness.

“You really are too kind, your Majesties,” he sniffed, “I couldn’t possibly live off the castle’s generosity like that--”

Luna held up a hoof to stop him. “We would be benefiting from this arrangement as well, Fletcher. We hope to make use of your talents for the benefit and security of Canterlot while you care for the foal. While you are here, you are to consider yourself an employee of the castle, and must follow orders to the letter. Do you accept these conditions?” she asked with an official tone.

Fletcher gazed from one Princess to another. He was overwhelmed. He could feel their love flooding into him. Acceptance. They were embracing him like a new family member. Rather than even try to fight back the tears, he just relaxed and let them silently flow down his cheek.

“Thankyou,” he tried to say, but it come out as a whisper. He cleared his throat and began again.

“It is hardly a price to pay, to be in the service of the gracious Princesses who have saved my life...” He bowed as low as he could while holding a foal. “... I humbly and gratefully accept your terms, my most beloved Princesses,” he said reverently.

After earning more smiles from the Royalty, he heard Cadence giggle a bit.

“Fletcher, you’re so well spoken and respectful for a changeling. The drones that imprisoned me weren’t nearly so… eloquent,” she mused.

Fletcher blushed and looked away. It had been so long since he was part of the hive, he didn’t even realize how much his mannerisms had changed. He chuckled sheepishly.

“I lived with my Master for five years. I suppose he’s rubbed off on me quite a bit,” he answered. “Though, unsired Chickary drones aren’t very eloquent to begin with.”

“I wish you could tell us more about your Master,” Cadence said sadly.

“I wish you could meet him,” Fletcher responded. “I’m certain you would all come to love him as much as I do. He’s the type of pony you would willingly cross Tartarus and back for, because he would have already done it for you, without even knowing your name,” he mused, thinking back to some cherished memories.

“He sounds like a wonderful pony. I’m sure he’s very proud of you right now,” Cadence told him, earning an appreciative smile from the changeling.

Celestia frowned, “I have one last question for you, Fletcher.”

The sudden change in her expression made Fletcher feel uneasy. It didn’t feel like she was upset, nevertheless he gulped. “What is it, your Highness?” he asked anxiously.

The Princess let the smile return to her face and pointed to the filly. “What is her name?”

It finally hit him. Fletcher was a father now. He gazed down at the filly in his forelegs, who was still quietly watching him. She was beautiful... and she was all his. His gaze washed over her sandy colored coat, and her cascading blue mane, and finally rested on her stunning blue eyes. He felt them draw him into paradise.

“I’m going to take care of you. I promise.

I promise to be there for you when you need me.

I promise to comfort you when you’re scared, and chase away the shadows.

I promise to protect you. I will never let anyone hurt you.

I promise to be your friend when you need one, and I promise to be your father, even when you think you don’t want one.

I promise to love you, forever and always.

I will be your Daddy… Calypso.”

Author's Note

Eeeeeeee, that was sooo sweet! I'm so happy! Fletcher's gonna be such a great Daddy!

He'll have his moments, yes.

I'm jealous! Fletcher's so lucky that he gets to live in the castle with the Princesses!

Oh, he has no idea what he's up against, my Dear.

Why did you make that sound so scary?

You'll have to wait and see.

There's the Doctor I know so well. Okay everyone, if you haven't yet, give a thumbs up and a favourite, and even if you've commented already I'm sure Doc would like to hear from you. (You should see the smile he gets on his face when he reads your comments, it's super cute--

Ahem

Hehehe, bye!

Chapter 9: Bathtime

Ready for a slice of diabeetus-- er, I mean life?

You did it again?!

Mind the face this time please.

Glomp* You're the best!

Mhff hff mh hfff

“Wow,” Cadance whispered, “what a pretty name.”

Celestia nodded in agreement. “Indeed,” she said with a smile. “Well then, if you have no objections, Cadance, I’ll place you in charge of helping them get settled in?”

Cadance nodded with a smile.

“Wonderful. You can set them up in the Lavidian suite, and have it prepped for permanent stay. Before that however, would you mind taking Fletcher and Calypso to the bathing hall and help them get cleaned up first? You can bring them to the Grand with you if you wish to freshen up as well,” she directed.

“Of course, Auntie,” Cadance beamed. They both looked to Fletcher and saw that he had a horrified look on his face. He was holding his new daughter like he thought they were about to strip him of her.

“Oh please, your Highnesses. You have been so very kind to me, and I dare not exceed the bounds of your good graces, but surely we could wait to bathe her until tomorrow? I just got her out of the cold,” he pleaded.

All three princesses blinked in confusion. They shared a few looks before Cadance turned back to him.

“Riiiight... which is why we’d like to get her out of the cold, and into a hot bath,” she explained slowly.

Fletcher’s eyes widened and his jaw slowly dropped.

…

“Wha… what did you say?” he breathed.

< ------------------------------------- >

The ‘Grand’ was a bath hall set aside for only the Royalty, or in some cases, specially welcomed guests, such as a certain group of six. It was a fair sized room, embellished with white, polished marble, and beautiful light fixtures that gave the room a warm, creamy orange glow. In the center was a marble pool that made a large ring around a beautifully carved fountain, adorned with a large blue crystal. The water trickled down the sides of the crystal and pooled in the various levels of the fountain before it trickled down somewhere behind it, entering the pool. The pool had a gentle current to it, as the water made its way around the ring and back behind the fountain again.

Fletcher took in the sight with awe as Cadance lead him in. She gathered a couple of towels from some bins on the shelves, as well as various shampoos, conditioners, oils, and perfumes, and set them up near the bath. She smiled as she watched Fletcher look around the room.

“It’s beautiful isn’t it? I love coming here,” she said reverently.

Fletcher could only nod, since his breath had been taken away. His eyes fixated on the water’s edge. He didn’t believe her when she said ‘hot’ bath, but there was steam rising up from the water’s surface. He slowly stepped up to the water and held a dirt caked hoof over it. Sure enough, he could feel the heat rising off it.

“It really is hot…” he muttered. How is this done? Fletcher looked up at the crystal at the top of the fountain and noted several rune arrays faintly glowing within the crystal’s structure. Of course, it’s so simple. He had studied the use of crystals and their natural ability to absorb, store, and supply mana for long term and/or highly demanding magical applications. Their molecular structure and durability made them perfect for etching magic arrays into, making them indispensable materials for enchantments. He dialed in further with a squint, and noticed a simple array that, sure enough, would cause the whole crystal to heat up. He also noticed a few other arrays that appeared to be responsible for drawing the water up through the hole in the crystal’s core, and for purifying the water. He looked back down at the pool. I can’t believe I never thought of this.

Cadance looked over his shoulder. “You’ve really never had a hot bath before? I thought you said you and your Master lived in Equestria?” she asked.

“We did. We were nomadic though. We bathed in rivers and streams. Wait...” He turned to her. “You mean to say that bathing in hot water is not a castle luxury?”

The Princess gave a patient smile. “Mmm-no, I’m pretty sure it’s a standard in every home and building in Equestria nowadays.”

Fletcher’s brows furrowed. Then my hive definitely should have known about it. If we knew it could be done, then why didn’t we implement it for ourselves?! He thought bitterly. “Hang on, I stayed at the Golden Lion Hotel in Los Pegasus for a week. How come their showers were cold?” he asked pointedly.

Cadance thought for a moment. “Well… did you turn the tap all the way?”

Fletcher gave a blank stare, then smacked his forehead. “There’s an ‘all-the-way’?” he moaned. “I just turned it until water came out.”

Cadance held a hoof over her mouth as she giggled. “That’s usually where the water is the coldest. The more you turn the tap, the warmer it will get until it’s hot. That’s how you control the temperature so it’s the most comfortable.”

The changeling dragged his hoof down his face with another moan. All those times… I feel so cheated.

Cadance lifted the filly off his back with her magic. “Go ahead and give it a try. I’ll take care of Calypso until you’re ready for her.”

Fletcher’s eyes widened. “Oh no, your Highness! I couldn’t possibly trouble you with such a thing!” he said with a hasty bow. After being shown so much kindness, the last thing he wanted, was to have someone as important as a Princess troubling themselves over him.

The Princess giggled at him. He was just as bad as some ponies with their over exuberant Royalty worshipping. It was important that citizens showed proper respect for the crown, but most ponies took it way too far, even to the point of being completely unreasonable. It bothered her that they thought of her as too good for them. Even for little things that most folks would just call being neighbourly. She once had to watch a stallion nearly break his back carrying a crate of watermelons because he wouldn’t let her help him. He insisted that she shouldn’t dirty her Royal hooves on something so menial.

“You need to clean yourself off first, Silly,” she said, pointing to his muddy legs and belly. “Then you can give her a bath while I take mine.”

“But--”

“Besides,” she continued before he could voice any more silly objections, “foals love me.” She flashed him a goofy grin before lowering Calypso to her eye level, gently taking her cheeks in her hooves and nuzzling her muzzle. “Isn’t that right, Cutie?” The affectionate contact elicited gleeful laughter from the little filly, as she latched her hooves around the Princess’ cheeks.

Fletcher’s heart skipped a beat after witnessing such a scene, but he shook his head. “Are you sure, your High--”

“I insist, Fletcher. Go try it,” she encouraged as she nodded towards the bath. “You’ve been missing out.”

Fletcher swallowed and bowed his head. “As you wish, your Highness.” He turned back and approached the water as the Princess began to play with his foal. He held a hoof over the water, hesitating for a moment before taking the plunge. The moment his hoof was submerged, a wave of ecstasy washed over his whole body, and he found himself crawling into the water with gusto. “Haa-haa-haa-haa-haa-haaaaa,” he sighed blissfully. He heard the Princess giggle at him again, but he was too far gone to feel embarrassed.

Some of the dirt had already been whisked away by the gentle current. He would have to scrub the rest away, but at the moment it was too hard to resist basking in the delicious warmth as it completely enveloped his body. Pleasant shivers rolled down his spine as the water flooded over his shell. Taking in a breath, he lowered his face in, submerging himself completely. He rolled over on his back and sprawled out on the floor of the pool.

I love baths…

His mind was swaddled in euphoria as the heat soaked into his muscles and joints, relieving years of tension he didn’t even know he had.

Can’t believe…we didn’t...have...this…

As Fletcher laid there, his mind began to grow more and more hazy. He felt... sleepy.

Hey……

.....Something’s…....wrong…….

….isn’t it?

He blearily opened his eyes. A drunken smile cracked his muzzle as he watched the watery ceiling dance above him.

That’s….pretty…...

He was vaguely aware of a burning sensation that was rising in his chest.

Ow….why?.................

Hey look…...bubbles…...come back bubbles…………...

His eyelids got heavier and heavier.

Come…………..back…………………………..

< -------------------------------------- >

“So? How is it, Fletcher?”

...

"Fletcher?"

When no reply came, Cadance glanced in his direction. Upon seeing him lying under the water on the pool floor, she giggled and nodded in understanding. She loved doing that. But, looking closer, she noticed something was off...

Eyes closed. Mouth open. No bubbles coming out.

"Oh my goodness!" she cried. "Fletcher!" She seized him in her magic and lifted him to the surface as she set the filly down. She pulled Fletcher over to them and laid him on the tile in front of her, anxiously shaking her head. "Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh..."

She tried to use her magic to grasp the water in his lungs, but she... she couldn't find them! They weren't in the same place as they would be in a pony, and there were more organs, all of which were full of fluid. She couldn't use magic to pull the water out; what if she seriously hurt him by accident?

Trying the next best thing, she lifted him up again, dangling him upside down, and positioning his head so his airway would be straight. After jostling him like a ketchup bottle, the water was finally released of its vacuum and came gushing out, causing the changeling to finally start coughing and showing signs of life.

"Oh thank goodness," Cadance breathed as she laid him down again. "What happened? I didn't even hear you splash or struggle."

Coughing up the last of the moisture, Fletcher groaned. “Hi…..Pink…” he muttered with a smile.

Cadance’s eyes widened, her brows creasing with concern. She grabbed whatever she could and started fanning him off. The changeling’s own brows furrowed in confusion, as if he was just now hearing what he just said. He shook his head and took several long, deep breaths. As the air was pumped past his palate he could feel it sinking the heat away from his head, and his mind grew clearer. I’ve had many run ins with death in my life, but that has to be the most embarrassing.

"I figured out why we never heated our water, even though we knew it could be done..." he said as he glanced down at his body. "I... can't move."

The Princess snorted, giggles threatening to burst past her smile. "Really? That's... snort*, that's kind of hilarious."

Fletcher snickered. "Nuh uh!" he bantered playfully. "I experienced both heaven and hell in the same minute!" He chuckled along with her, until a glance reminded him who he was talking to. He instantly straightened up, or at least as much as his limp body would allow. "I mean... no, it wasn't so much humorous as it was frightening, your Highness," he said with a more dignified tone of voice.

The Princess' smile faded to a frown. "Right... I'm sure it would have been," she said with a little dejection. Was he afraid of her or something?

Just then, Fletcher’s newly adopted daughter managed to crawl up to him. She leaned her little hooves on his foreleg resting by his side as she looked into his eyes. “Ba?” she asked with concern.

Fletcher couldn’t help but smile as his heart melted. “I’m alright, Sweety.”

She turned to his shoulder and gave it a few shoves, trying to convince his body to move.

Fletcher chuckled. “I’m okay, Sweetheart, really. I just need a moment to cool down, that’s all,” he reassured her. Whether she understood or not he couldn’t really tell, but she crawled up to the crook between his neck and shoulder and curled up into a ball, resting her chin on his neck.

Squee!

The sudden sound made Fletcher look up to Cadance. There was a massive grin on her face, and she was squishing her cheeks like she was trying to push the fur back in.

“Princess? Are you alright?”

“That’s so cuuuuute!” she nearly squealed.

Fletcher couldn’t help but chuckle. He looked down at his little filly and smiled. I’m a lucky stallion, aren’t I?

The Princess cleared her throat. “Well, um, I suppose we’d better run the water colder for you, then. You’re still pretty muddy,” she pointed out as she turned to adjust the bath.

Fletcher shook his head. “I don’t think that’s necessary,” he said as he tentatively flexed his fetlock. “I should be fine if I change to a pony.”

She turned to him in surprise. “It makes that much of a difference?”

Fletcher managed to roll over on his side, to his daughter’s excitement, and shakily began getting up to his hooves. “We’re pretty sensitive to extreme temperatures, although I’ve never seen this happen before, even in hot climates. My theory is that by fully submerging my head, I let it get too hot, with no way of transferring the heat elsewhere. My brainstem got too warm, and that all but shut down my motor functions. The heat dimmed my mind so much I didn’t even notice, though, and it barely even registered with me that I was in trouble. It was very similar to what happens when we get too cold, except the muscles were relaxed rather than tense. You ponies aren’t nearly so sensitive, though,” he finished with a smile.

The Princess smiled in kind. “Well, alright then. I’ll keep Calypso occupied while you do your thing. Just, sing or something so I’ll know right away if there’s another problem,” she teased.

Fletcher blushed. “Yes, of course. Thank you,” he said as he turned back to the pool. Approaching the water he turned into his black unicorn disguise and stepped in. Mmmm. It still feels amazing. This time he got straight to work cleaning himself off with the shampoos and such as he hummed an old tune his Master used to sing the odd times they were at sea. As he finished his legs, belly, mane, and tail, he decided to test out his hypothesis so he could clean out his holes. It was sure to feel fantastic with the hot water. Sitting up, and resting his forelegs over the edge for safety, he reverted back to his original form. For a few moments he just sat like that, and seeing that the submerged portion of his body was still fully responsive, he cautiously started scrubbing out his holes. He was right, it did feel great, and his holes weren’t nearly as ticklish as they normally were. Finishing off with his cleansing, he happily noted that while relaxed, he still had complete control and his mind was clear.

“I’m all finished, Princess,” he happily reported. “I can take Calypso now.”

Cadance smiled and brought over her happy little playmate, her diaper removed and ready to bathe. Cadance’s eyes widened. “Fletcher, you’re--”

“Yes.” He nodded. “I confirmed my theory. I’m fine as long as I don’t submerge my head and let it get too hot.”

“That was risky,” she teased as she stepped into the water and waded towards him.

“I was cautious with my approach,” he assured her as he received his little filly. “Hi, Sweetie,” he greeted.

Calypso smiled and reached her hooves out for him. She giggled as he nuzzled her affectionately. Cadance went off to bathe herself while he carried his precious charge to a shallower portion of the pool. He sat down and set her between his hind legs. She laughed as she took in the water and the pool with wonder and excitement. She happily splashed the water with her hooves, giggling all the while, as Fletcher poured water down the back of her head to wet her down. Then he lathered in some shampoo from head to tail. He reached around, showing her the foam, and blew some of the bubbles into the air. The filly squealed with giddy laughter and started tossing the foam in the air above her, watching with delight as the bubbles floated down around her.

“Bubbas!” she sang. Then continued to splash and laugh.

Fletcher chuckled as he rinsed her off and repeated the process with conditioner. After he had her all cleaned up, he leaned against the pool's edge and just watched her have the time of her life. Eventually she noticed that he stopped fussing over her and her attention turned to him. She watched him with big curious eyes and crawled up on his belly. She started touching and feeling his chitin, exploring his form with wonder. Ah yes. Introductions are in order, aren't they. Fletcher lifted his hooves and stroked her back a few times before her attention turned to his limbs. He let her play with his fetlocks, fighting back the ticklish cringes as she stuck her hooves into his holes. Fletcher smiled as he felt her marvelling at them. She couldn’t seem to believe they really went all the way through. Fletcher held a leg up to his face and looked through one of the holes at her.

“Peek-a-boo.”

He won some delighted laughter from the filly. She responded by picking up, or rather leading, his other leg in her hooves and peeking through a hole back at him.

“Bah,” she gurgled, and she won some laughter of her own.

Then she seemed to want to investigate him more, crawling up on his chest and reaching up to his face. Fletcher supported her bottom and let her feel it. Her hooves slid back and forth on his smooth, hard cheeks, but she found that his eyelids were soft and leathery. Fletcher patiently let her pull them down one after the other. She seemed to get hung up on his scar and gave him a concerned look.

Fletcher nodded. "Owie," he explained.

The little filly kissed her hoof and touched it to his scar. "Mwah," she sounded, and gave him a smile.

Fletcher chuckled as his heart melted once again. "Thank you."

Next she moved on to his muzzle. It was hard for the most part, but his lips were soft around mouth. The tip of his nose was a little springier too. With awe, she almost reverently ran her hoof down one of his fangs. Suddenly, he opened his mouth wide, folded his fangs in, and snapped his jaw around her hoof.

“Um num num!” he sounded, gently nipping her little foot.

“Ah haha!” she squealed with glee. She hugged his muzzle and gave him a giddy smile.

Fletcher’s own smile almost never left. He raised her up higher knowing she would want to check out the rest. She happily wrapped her fetlocks around his horn and even gummed a thinner portion of it. Fletcher giggled at the ticklish sensation and flicked his ears about, desperate to divert her attention. It seemed to work, because she released her grip on his horn and reached toward his ears. He happily brought her around to check them out. Taking one in her hooves, she stroked his ear down the length of it. It was also soft and leathery.

There was a pause, and Fletcher smiled knowingly as he sensed the gears turning in her head. Calypso gave it a yank, and almost jumped at the loud, dog-like, yelping noise the changeling made.

Fletcher chuckled internally. Of course it hadn’t hurt, but for little ones her age the best way to discourage a behaviour, was to communicate in an intuitive way. It worked quite well with foalings at least.

Rather than tug again, Calypso pet his ear almost apologetically. Fletcher smiled and brought her around to his face again, giving her another nuzzle. She laughed and hugged his face. Fletcher revelled in the love she was giving him, and hummed in satisfaction.

Looking over Calypso’s head, he noticed Princess Cadance was standing outside the pool watching them. She had already dried herself off and was holding a set of towels for them in her magic.

“That was adorable!”

< ------------------------------------- >

Private Honor stood at attention, waiting nervously in the Solar office. He messed up. Bad. He could still hear Princess Luna’s angry shouting running through his head, making him shudder. He still didn’t think the changeling could be trusted, but by striking a button as hot and sensitive as the Lunar Princess’ past, he was definitely getting a few demerits for this.

Private Honor tensed as he heard the door open. He gave a stiff salute as his commanding Princess entered the office.

“Have a seat,” she ordered. She didn’t give him a single glance as she walked around her desk and took her seat. With a heavy sigh, she finally looked up at him with a stern expression.

“I’m not impressed, Private. Your behaviour today was unacceptable from a soldier of the Royal Guard. You reacted violently, without provocation, and without orders-”

“I wouldn’t say it was without provocation…” the soldier muttered.

“What was that?”

The Private winced. He steeled himself and pressed on. “He was making a mockery of your Royal Guard, your Highness! That bug was dreaming if he honestly thought-”

“Not only were his words confirmed by lie detection, Private,” the Princess interrupted, “but I just saw the bodies from the event that started all this. The pelvis that Captain Feather mentioned was crushed. Not fractured. Not simply broken. Crushed, Private. That single bone was in 86 pieces, and the bruising on the gryphon’s hide confirms that that particular injury was from a single hoof strike to the flank. I’m not sure how he did it, but Fletcher wouldn’t be exaggerating if he said he could turn your bones to paste! But even if he couldn’t back up what he said in the throne room today, they were just words. You struck him because of words, Private. They weren’t even a direct threat! He was simply being honest! I expect my guards to show more discipline than that.

“What’s more, is that even after a warning, you proceeded to defy Princess Luna’s orders to release him, and then questioned her judgement. I ordered the Solar Guard earlier, to do as my Sister said. Since I did not object to her order to release Fletcher, I was basically giving that order myself.”

Private Honor’s ears fell. It made what he did seem even worse when she put it that way.

“It is one thing to act without orders. It’s another story entirely to disobey one, and question our judgement,” the Princess said.

“I was only looking out for the safety of Equestria, your Highness,” he defended.

Celestia raised her eyebrow. “Do you suppose that Princess Luna and I are not, Private?”

Before he could answer, the Princess continued.

“We are well aware that there are many reasons to be wary of changelings, and their countless tactics for deception, but your theory of a changeling being impervious to a lie detection spell does not hold water. The spell does not affect the subject in any way, but rather reacts to the subject. It does not force the subject to tell the truth. It simply indicates if what they have said is true, therefore one can not be impervious to it. To control the spell’s results, one would have to manipulate it to show positive answers, which is impossible. Even if Fletcher could somehow do this, without the use of magic no less, Luna and myself would have been able to sense even the slightest effect on our spells,” she said.

Private Honor shook his head. “I don’t know how he could have done it, your Highness, but changelings are schemers. He easily could have pretended to slip up, exposed himself, let himself be captured without resistance, and everything else, just to gain your trust. If he is plotting something, it would be the perfect plan. Especially since he’s gotten you both to fall for it, hook, line, and sinker. The foal is most likely one of them as well. Bringing a foal that would cry, and then supposedly calm down instantly to his little lullaby would make him appear harmless, or even endearing. I still think it’s a mistake to trust him, your Majesty.”

Celestia looked down and shook her head with a sigh. He just wasn’t listening. She knew the foal calmed down quickly because Fletcher sang exactly what she needed to hear, guiding her emotions to a different state. She had experienced it for herself. Not only that, but she saw the foal’s parents in the morgue. They were positively identified as a young couple that lived in Trottingham, and the foal was documented in the records as their daughter.

“The simple fact that he is a changeling...” she began as she took up a quill and parchment in her aura and started writing a letter, “...is not enough grounds to convict him, as you tried to do today. There is far more evidence to support his innocence, than there are hints supporting espionage. I believe you are allowing your paranoia for an entire race to affect your ability to see the possibility, that not all of them are the same.

“At any rate, we will determine how to deal with Fletcher, and we will continue to monitor him. It is not your place to question our judgement or our methods, Private. It is because of your actions today, and because you continue to question your Princesses’ rule, that I am left with no choice.” She finished the letter, and placed it in an envelope. Then she picked up a needle and pricked her fetlock, allowing a single drop of blood to fall on the envelope before pouring a spot of gold colored wax over top of it and pressing her stamp into the wax. With the envelope sufficiently sealed, she healed the wound on her fetlock and held the letter over the flame of a particular dragon wick candle. The flame consumed the letter instantly in a wisp of smoke.

The Princess cleared her throat. “Private Scout’s Honor, you are hereby discharged from the Royal Guard: Solar Division, and are as of this moment, reassigned to the Tower Watch: Briar Rock Division. I’ve just informed Commander Grey Stone, who will be your new CO,” she said formally.

Honor’s heart stopped. The Tower Watch was a series of watchtowers dotted along Equestria’s borders. The Briar Rock outpost was built upon a sad, tiny, island just barely detached from the mainland, that looked like a bunch of sea battered boulders. There wasn’t enough population in the area to justify a weather crew, so the air was always wet, and it was so cold there that it was always threatening to snow. Briar Rock was like one of the wing pits of Equestria, and in terms of seeing any action, it was where aspirations of military glory went to die. The biggest threat that was ever likely to come from that direction was a flock of seagulls dropping fecal bombs! What was worse, was being assigned to Grey Stone. A grumpy veteran commander, notorious for hoofing out punishments and demerits left and right! He was known along the grapevine as Commander Cactus Butt, because everypony that’s had him as a CO is convinced that he’s got something seriously uncomfortable rammed up there.

“D-discharged?! You can’t be serious, your Highness!” Private Honor stammered.

Princess Celestia closed her eyes and simply replied, “Please remove your armor and return your medallion. You leave immediately. You will be issued different equipment when you arrive. Your belongings will be transferred after you within the week.”

After a long pause, Honor shakily stood up and began to remove his armor. He finally removed the neck piece and the enchanted medallion emblazoned within it, causing his uniform white coat to fade to his natural, dull, rusty brown color, and the bright blue mane and tail, to his natural dark grey.

“You’re making a terrible mistake, your Highness,” he said as he laid the neckpiece on her desk. “You’ve let them deceive you yet again. Mark my words, that changeling will be our downfall.”

Celestia’s ear twitched despite herself, and she had to take a long breath to maintain her practiced composure. “I’ll thank you to keep accusations like that to yourself, Scout’s Honor,” she said firmly. She looked up at him with a stern glare that made the stallion quiver. “You don’t appear to be receiving the message. After the way you’ve conducted yourself today you should be considering yourself lucky to simply be getting reassigned, rather than court-martialed and discharged from the military outright,” she said with a cold intensity as she charged her horn. “In fact, the only reasons you are not, are because I’ve been looking for an opportunity to reassign a very hardworking and deserving soldier currently stationed on Briar Rock, and because Commander Grey Stone excels at rectifying discipline issues such as yours. Consider this a second chance, Private. You’d best not waste it. Dismissed,” she said as she cast her spell with a flash and teleported the stallion to the coast.

The Princess let out a heavy sigh and leaned back in her chair. That, and I can’t trust a hothead who can’t control his tongue not to rabble rouse the public if he were discharged. She rubbed her temples. Things were going to need to be handled extremely delicately with the public, now that a changeling had found favor with the Diarchy.

Celestia regarded her fetlock where she had pricked it. Thankfully though, there was light at the end of this dark tunnel of uncertainty which she and her people had been fumbling through since the invasion attempt. Hopefully we can finally get some answers now regarding how to discern, and prove our identities to one another.

< -------------------------------------- >

“Set the cradle at the foot of the bed, please.” Cadance was directing the castle staff and the nurses that came from Canterlot hospital. “Where would you like the changing table, Fletcher?”

The poor changeling was huddled in the corner of the suite’s Master Bedroom, desperately trying to stay out of the way. He was trying hard not to make any sudden movements, or otherwise frighten the mares moving about the room. They were moving around him in deliberately wide arcs, and watching him as if he’d lunge forward and bite them at any moment. They were terrified of him, and it didn’t take a changeling to know it.

“Um… w-whereever you think is best, your Majesty. I-I’ll trust your judgement on this,” Fletcher answered distractedly.

Cadance gave a sad look to the changeling before giving a direction to the staff. Once they set to work, she trotted over to him.

“What’s the matter?” she asked. “You seem so anxious.”

Fletcher looked up at her, her question surprising him. “N-nothing you need to concern yourself with, your Highness. Please don’t fret it,” he tried to assure her.

She gave him a smirk. “For starters, I don’t believe you,” she teased, “and for another, you don’t have to be so formal with me, Fletcher. After hearing about the kind of changeling you are, and also watching you dedicate your loyalty to our Kingdom, I consider you a friend. Or at least, somepony I’d like to be friends with, anyway. From now on, I’d like you to just call me Cadance when we’re in non-formal situations,” she told him as she put her hoof on his shoulder.

Fletcher stared at her in disbelief. “You… you wish for me to be your friend, your High--”

“Ah ah,” she interrupted with a raised hoof. “Cadance,” she corrected with a smile.

Fletcher rubbed his leg. “P-Princess Cadance, I don’t think-”

The changeling found himself met with a smooth pink hoof pressed against his muzzle. She giggled before correcting him.

“Cadance,” she corrected again. “I will train this into you, Fletcher. Even if it takes all night,” she said jovially.

GoodNIGHT she’s cute!

…

and Royalty!

Fletcher shook his head. Thoughts like that were the exact reason he couldn’t let himself get close to her.

“I don’t feel that I’m worthy of such an honor as to have a close relationship with you, your High-”

“Cadance,” she corrected him again, her tone as sweet as ever. “Then tell me, Fletcher, if you don’t consider yourself worthy, then who is?”

He didn’t answer.

“You are exceedingly kind, polite to a fault,” she pointed out with a smirk, “and you’re selfless. You refused to attack Atalanter even though it meant exile, you refused to free yourself from imprisonment today for the sake of not hurting trained guards, you even risked your freedom to save an innocent filly’s life! So tell me Fletcher, why do you believe you aren’t good enough to be my friend?” she asked expectantly, tapping him on the chest.

“I...I just-”

“Is it cuz you don’t wanna be fwends wif me?” she whimpered, and hit him with the most heart wrenching puppy-dog look known to pony or changeling kind. Fletcher’s face went red as a black cherry... which for a changeling, was pretty freaking red! The only thing that stopped him from throwing himself to the ground and frantically apologizing to her, was the small buzz he could feel from her. She was enjoying this.

Then he felt something else. Anxiety and frustration.

That’s not Cadance…

or the baby...

Who is that?

Cadance was confused when Fletcher’s head suddenly perked up and he stared at the wall.

“What’s the matter?” she asked.

Fletcher held up a hoof and remained silent for a moment, never taking his eyes off the wall. He finally spoke, “I think… I think Princess Celestia is coming this way,” he said. “She seems upset by something.”

“How can you tell?” she asked.

Instead of answering, Fletcher began to chirp as he walked over to the kettle on the dresser and poured some hot water into a tea cup.

After her discussion with Scout’s Honor, and after finally finishing all the paperwork for his reassignment, Celestia made her way to the guest suite she assigned Cadance to put Fletcher and the filly in, to make sure they were settling in alright. When she opened the door to the suite she heard Fletcher’s familiar chirping. He must be singing the foal to sleep. Luna was right about it being so soothing. She felt her body take in a deep breath all on its own, and felt a weight roll off her shoulders as she exhaled. What a sweet and beautiful sound. She envied Fletcher’s ability to sense the emotions of others. With such an ability, she knew he would make a fantastic parent.

Ooooh, I wonder if he’d make a good massage therapist? she thought to herself with a giggle, thinking of the tightness in her shoulders.

A few of the staff and nurses that were running around bowed to her as she followed the sound to the bedroom. When she stepped in the doorway and knocked on the open door, she was surprised to find that both Fletcher and Cadance were already looking directly at her. What was more surprising was that Fletcher wasn’t holding, or even looking at, his newly adopted foal, who was being bottle-fed in the corner by a nurse in a rocking chair.

“She doesn’t look very upset,” Cadance said to Fletcher.

Celestia raised an eyebrow as she entered the room completely. “I came to see how things were going. What’s going on?” she asked.

Cadance gestured to the changeling. “Fletcher said he could sense you coming before you even came in, Auntie,” she said with admiration.

Celestia turned to Fletcher with a puzzled look. “How did you know it was me?”

“I’ve only met you today, so I wasn’t completely certain it was you, but I could tell that you’re troubled by something,” he said as he levitated a cup of tea towards her. Celestia blinked. She took the tea in her aura and stared at it in astonishment. Nopony else in the room was drinking any, which meant he knew she was coming and prepared it just for her. She looked up in disbelief.

“You mean to say, that your singing just now, was for me?” she asked incredulously.

Fletcher bowed his head slightly. “Of course, your Majesty. I would happily do anything I could to make you feel better. If you would, please tell us what has you feeling anxious, your Highness.”

The Princess felt overwhelmed. All this, because she was upset about her meeting with her guard and his behavior. She shook her head and smiled.

“It is nothing to be concerned about Fletcher, I just had a meeting with the guard that struck you today and I had to reassign him. Even at the very end, he struggled to know his place, despite having been shown multiple times. Having to take disciplinary action, or to even rebuke my guards or staff is not something I enjoy, and that is probably the reason you sensed what you did,” she answered him.

Fletcher’s ears fell and he gave her a sad look. “Forgive me, your Highness. If it hadn’t been for me--”

“Stop right there, Fletcher,” Celestia commanded with a raised hoof. “I’m quite pleased to have you here and have already begun to reap the benefits, so please, don’t ever apologize for that. That guard’s disobedience today stemmed from an underlying lack of faith in his Diarchey’s leadership. If it hadn’t been the situation with you today, it just would have been something else another day,” she said. “How are you feeling by the way? Did he leave any bruising?”

Fletcher shook his head. “No, Princess, I’m fine now. We usually heal from internal bleeding before a bruise even has time to show, but thank you very much for your concern.”

Celestia smiled. “I’m happy to hear it,” she said. She took a long sip of her tea and savored it with closed eyes. It was quite nice. Then a thought came back to her.

“Perhaps I could ask a favor of you, Fletcher,” she began as she levitated her cup and saucer to the dresser. Then she levitated a large nesting pillow from the corner of the room and brought it towards her. “Would you be so kind as to massage my shoulders for me? They’ve gotten rather tight over the last few days, and I think you would be rather good at it,” she said as she lay across the pillow.

Fletcher’s eyes widened and his pupils shrunk to pinpricks. His poor heart couldn’t take much more of this. First the Princess of Love wanted him to drop formal titles and almost killed him with that puppy-dog pout, and now the Demi-Goddess of the Sun herself was not only giving him permission to touch her Royal person, she wanted a back massage!

He stammered, “A-are you s-sure that’s appropriate, y-your Highness?”

Cadance had to hold her stomach from laughing so hard. “Auntie, I couldn’t even make him say my name without formalities before you got here. I highly doubt you’ll get the poor thing to give you a back rub,” she chuckled.

“Awww, really?” Celestia looked up at him from her pillow with pouty eyes.

Fletcher squeezed his eyes shut and looked away. He was certain that if he made direct eye contact, his heart would stop.

“I could make it your first order,” she giggled jokingly.

Fletcher’s eyes snapped open as his changeling hardwiring kicked in. Orders I can do.

To Cadance’ and Celestia’s surprise, the changeling suddenly snapped to attention.

“Yes, Princess, as you wish,” he said with a salute.

Fletcher’s whole demeanor seemed to change. His voice had more strength behind it, and every movement was precise. He took off with a low buzz, and hovered over Celestia.

“Please spread your wings and lay them flat, then extend your legs forward and rest your head between them,” he instructed.

Though she did as she was asked, Celestia was a little concerned about his sudden seriousness. “Fletcher, you don’t really have to-- Oooooooh,” she moaned as she melted into the pillow. “A little to the-- Yes, right there!...Mmmm.”

Fletcher worked her shoulders as he hovered perfectly in place above her. He had a lot of experience with massage. They would do it for each other back in the Hive all the time whenever they sensed tension or fatigue, in exchange for love. He was currently getting no shortage of love from the Princess in the form of appreciation.

“Ohhh, Cadance,” she moaned blissfully, “it's just as I suspected. He knows exactly where the knots are, and applies the perfect amount of- Mmmm… pressure,” she said whimsically. She was in heaven.

Cadance held a hoof to her mouth trying to suppress a giggle. The only time she saw this much pleasure in her Aunt was when she was savoring her favorite cheesecake from Prance.

“Sounds magical, Auntie. I’ll have to try it,” she replied.

Finishing her shoulders, Fletcher moved on to where he sensed more tension, and started on the joints where her wings met her body.

“Ohhhhhh, Luna and I are going to love having you,” Celestia muttered. “If it wasn’t official before, Fletcher, we’re definitely keeping you now. You’re quite marvelous.”

Fletcher blushed at the compliment. “You’re too kind, your Highness,” he said humbly.

The Princess shook her head. “No, I’m not. You don’t understand, Fletcher. You have relieved more built up tension in 5 minutes than my most visited massage therapist could in an hour’s time. You can’t imagine how beneficial your services would be to my sister and I. Done right, regular massage therapy would have significant positive effects, such as less fatigue and better alertness while we perform our duties.”

Celestia slowly raised herself to a sitting position, the changeling seamlessly floating backward with her. She nodded her thanks and he hovered back to his position beside Cadance.

“It has gotten late, and you have other things to attend to, so I’ll leave soon, but I’d like to discuss a future arrangement. At the dawn and twilight of each day and night, Princess Luna and I enjoy our respective first and last meals of the day together before switching out. Every day, before and after our twilight meal, I would like for you to administer massage therapy to the respective off-duty Princess. Luna before she begins her vigil, and myself after I’ve finished mine. Dear Calypso should be asleep by then and I will assign a capable pony to watch over her while you carry out this task for us. Do you have any objections?” she asked.

Fletcher saluted. “None, your Majesty. Give the order and it shall be so,” he answered resolutely.

Celestia frowned for a moment. “Must it be an order, Fletcher? I usually prefer to make requests of my staff and save orders for military purposes,” she said.

Fletcher bowed his head. “I thrive on orders, your Highness. They give me a sense of purpose and structure. I feel a great sense of pride, knowing that I am carrying out my leader’s whims reliably, and with precision. The… the last time I was given an order I refused it, and though I still stand behind that course of action, I have missed following orders ever since. Please, your Highness, it would make me very happy to be following orders again. Especially from rulers that do not abuse their powers or faculty, such as yourselves.”

Celestia blinked. There was the smallest hint of pink in her cheeks. She shared a glance with Cadance for a second, then looked back at the changeling.

“Are all changelings like you, Fletcher? Do they thrive on orders, I mean?” she asked.

Fletcher bashfully looked away and started rubbing his leg. “It’s sort of a comfort thing, believe it or not,” he answered. “One’s other concerns don’t seem to matter as much when one has orders to follow.”

The Princess gave a knowing smile. “Very well then. Consider my request an order,” she said. “While we’re discussing orders, I’d like to issue a standing order for while you are here with us.”

Fletcher saluted. “Yes, your Majesty!”

“If you sense the presence of another changeling at any time, I’d like- *ahem* I want you to alert the current presiding Princess immediately,” she said.

Fletcher’s ears fell. “Y-yes, your Majesty. U-understood,” he responded, though the fire in his voice had diminished.

Celestia raised a brow. “Is there something wrong?”

Fletcher hastily shook his head. “No, your Highness. Equestria’s safety is the number one priority. I agree that if there’s another changeling nearby, you two need to know about it. It’s just that... I’m a little concerned about what would happen next,” he said. “If I catch them hurting anyone, I’ll throw them in the dungeons myself,” he told her with a determined look, but then it softened as he continued. “But, most changelings just go about gathering limress-- erm, love energy, without harming anyone. We’ve been doing it for centuries. I really hope I’ve helped you understand, at least somewhat, that we’re not all the same.” He looked away. “You’re first exposure to changelings was really quite unfortunate... for both sides. I’m truly sorry for what happened to you two.” He looked up and met his Princess’ gaze. “I will happily report any changeling presence to you. I simply pray that you’ll be willing to grant them a chance, as you did for me,” he finished with a humble bow.

The Princess looked solemn. “You’ve had a difficult time since the invasion on your side as well.” Seeing him nod, she continued, “Of course, Fletcher. It will depend on the case, but as always I will do everything in my power to be fair.”

“Thank you, your Highness,” he said with another bow. “I am privileged to be in your service.”

Seeing their exchange had finished, Cadance tapped Fletcher on the shoulder, and he promptly turned to her.

“Yes, your Majesty?” he asked expectantly.

The Princess of Love gave a devious smirk. “From now on, I want you to call me Cadance when we are in non-formal situations, as previously described,” she said. Before he could object she continued. “That’s an order~,” she sang, indulging in a triumphant giggle. “Oh, and when we are in formal situations, I won’t accept titles any more formal than ‘Princess’ or ‘My Lady’. Is that understood?”

“You may do the same in your dealings with me as well, Fletcher,” Celestia announced.

Fletcher’s ears fell again. He nervously stared back and forth between the Princesses while his jaw chittered.

The chittering almost made Cadance squeal in adoration. He’s so cute. He’s like a whimpering dog trying to decide between obeying his master, or just going for the treat balanced on his nose.

Celestia chuckled. He’s quite fun to tease, this one, she mused. Then she turned and excused herself, “Good night, everypony.”

Cadance gave her a wave and a smile. “Good night, Auntie,” she said sweetly. Then she turned expectantly to Fletcher. “Well?”

The changeling finally straightened up and gave a shaky salute.

“Y-yes, My Lady,” he answered.

“Ah ah!” She held up her hoof. “Cadance.”

< -------------------------------------- >

Fletcher laid awake staring at the ceiling, sprawled out on the massive bed. It still hadn’t truly sunk in for him yet. Never in his wildest dreams did he believe he would find himself in such fortunate circumstances. Heck, he was basically given a death sentence back when he was banished. Now look where he was. His hoof made its way to his scar, and he sighed. Faust has favored me indeed, Master.

His thoughts were interrupted by some stirrings in Calypso’s emotional presence. Confusion and fear. Aaaaaand, que crying.

Sure enough, he heard a long moan before his little filly started to cry. “Baabaa...

He chuckled and got up. As he approached, he could see her following his eyes as he moved in the darkness. Her signature flashed with recognition and relief. I still find it amazing that you’re not terrified by this, he thought. Glancing around the room, he noted that he was casting a faint blue glow on their surroundings. Perhaps she found the color soothing. He leaned over the edge of Calypso’s crib and chirped a soft tune as he gazed at her.

“Baba,” she called, reaching her little hooves up for him.

Fletcher laughed. Is that my name now? He gingerly lifted her up in his aura and lowered her into his forelegs.

“Hello, Sweetheart. Did you have a bad dream?” he asked as he ruffled her crest fur. “Everything’s alright now, I’m right here,” he assured her.

She caught his hoof, brought it in, and snuggled it with her cheek. She let out a soft moan of contentment, before dozing off again in his forelegs. Fletcher smiled as his heart melted yet again. It had been far too long since he’d held something this precious in his hooves. Raising her up, he craned his neck down and touched his forehead to hers.

“Lo Men Vai,” he whispered.

Had his eyes been open, he might have seen the pale blue light that briefly flashed at their point of contact.

Author's Note

O.O
Doctor! Doctor what was that flashy thing?!

Dunno.

Oh come ooooon, tell me! That's never happened before.

It's never been done with a pony before.

.............Gaaaaaaaasp*

Hahaha, go ahead and leave a comment guys, and be sure to double check your insulin levels.

Chapter 1: Rain

There was a downpour that day; the day he found her. Fletcher hung his head and sighed. Ignoring the rain water streaming down his smooth chitin, he simply stared at his reflection in a puddle. He had been aimlessly wandering down a muddy road for the last several hours, with no particular destination in mind. Having long since been exiled from the hive, he didn’t have anywhere he had to be, no missions to complete, or duties to fulfill.

He closed his right eye for a moment, to see a full view of the scar in his reflection. When he was exiled, he was given the customary scar in the shape of an X. The enchanted blade prevented changelings' natural healing abilities from taking effect, and since a changeling's wounds show through their disguises, an unhealable scar made it quite impossible to fool any creature into believing you were their loved one.

Without the hive to exchange emotions with, and no easy way to get love from another creature, exiled changelings could only survive by disguising themselves as a stranger, and living off of smiles and/or feelings of fondness, which was much like living off bread crusts and potato skins.

Fletcher didn’t really care though, seeing as how he would never take the route of replacing a loved one, anyway. He was a little different that way, because he only believed in one thing: protecting his allies. He didn’t believe in hurting others, or feeding on their love. The only way he would harm another being is if they threatened his comrades. Then they were shown the jaws of Tartarus.

It was because of his strong beliefs, however, that he wound up in exile. He was among the Queen’s elite guard and he protected his Queen and his comrades with precision and a silent fury. He was a legend in the hive, but that changed very quickly when the Queen launched a plan to invade the deer nation of Atalanter. Fletcher believed in protecting his nation, not in conquering others, and he refused the take part in the invasion. Which promptly landed him with an X on his eye, and no place to call home.

For the first few months of his exile, Fletcher wandered from town to town in the land of Equestria, since taking pony-form required the least amount of love energy. He would kindly greet anypony he saw, to earn their smiles. He would even perform small gestures, like picking up a bundle of roses, and walking around hoofing them out to the mares to get a taste of their hearts fluttering, but that’s all he would do. He was happy to eat ‘bread crusts’ and ‘potato skins’ because he knew they didn’t cost the ponies anything.

When changelings feed on the love somepony feels for a family member, that pony will begin to feel colder and colder the longer the changeling feeds on them, until they get sick. Then, if the changeling doesn’t withdraw at that stage, the victim can easily die in as little as a week. That was why Fletcher also refused to take the route of forming a brand new relationship with a pony. Emotional pain was just as real as physical pain, (plus the whole ‘sucking the life out of them till they’re dead’ thing) and he wouldn’t do that to somepony. Especially not a pony.

Every pony was different, and not all of them were nice, but as a species in general, ponies were among the kindest in the world. The kindest of which was his teacher, a broken horned unicorn by the name of Discerning Spell, or Dizzy Spell as he’d asked to be called. He was the first non-changeling ever, to give Fletcher his trust despite knowing what he really was. It was then that Fletcher discovered that if a creature was aware of a changeling, any feelings they gave them did not cause the creature to have any of the usual side effects. This was what allowed Fletcher to stay with, and learn from Dizzy for the past 5 years.

And what amazing things he did learn from that unicorn. Dizzy Spell wasn’t even middle aged, yet his knowledge seemed infinitely beyond his years. In fact, after his horn was broken, denying him anything beyond basic spells and levitation, Dizzy managed to master many ancient, and forgotten techniques that used Pegasus and Earth pony magics. Fletcher had no idea where he learned them, but because he deemed Fletcher to be a creature of good character, Dizzy Spell taught him these techniques, with the pretense that he would use them to continue to protect others from harm. It also helped, that the changeling could physically become a Pegasus or Earth pony, making learning much easier.

Dizzy was a kind and patient teacher, and a wonderful friend to Fletcher. He missed him.

Fletcher’s ear twitched when a sudden sound brought him out of his memories. It seemed to come from further up the road and around the bend. It sounded like breaking glass and splintering wood. Now he could hear some kind of skirmish and various voices yelling and screaming.

Keeping close to the treeline beside the road, the changeling quietly stalked toward the sounds. Peering from behind a few trees, Fletcher caught a glimpse of a pony carriage. Its rear axle had been broken and its windows and door had been smashed open. The couple that must have owned the carriage had been thrown into the mud. The stallion was shaking and holding something to his chest, while the mare didn’t seem to be moving at all. They were surrounded by five bulky gryphons wearing masks. Most of them were wielding clubs wrapped in chicken wire, but one of them was armed with a small crossbow.

Fletcher’s eyes narrowed. He didn’t like gryphons very much. So far, every gryphon he ever met was either threatening his allies, or in this case, threatening innocent ponies.

Fletcher hadn’t taken his first step forward, when he heard the crossbow fire... then the sound of a crying foal.

These gryphons were about to have a Very. Bad. Day.

Author's Note

And it begins...

Hey Folks, Doctor Dizzy here. Very excited to get this story started up and running. I sincerely hope you enjoy it.

If you like it be sure to show it with a thumbs up or a fav. Ooooh and comment! Doc likes his comments.

Chapter 2: Punishment

5 seconds.

Just 5 seconds.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5. That's it!

It wasn’t more than 5 seconds after his crossbow was fired, that the gryphon found himself amidst the scene of a massacre, and staring down the shaft of his own weapon. The clubs of all his compatriots were broken, as were their spines. Most of their beaks were crushed as well. Of the five of them, the shooter was the only bandit who knew what hit them: A single changeling, seething with anger, and pointing a loaded crossbow at him.

“H-how…” the gryphon choked, “how did you move so fast?!”

Fletcher grit his teeth. Then he vanished.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” he whispered in the gryphon’s ear, right before slamming his foreleg down on his wing. There came a snapping sound from the bones therein, as well as an agonized howl from the shooter. The gryphon tried to take a swing at the changeling, but he had already vanished again and was dealing a punch to the flank on the opposite side. The beast’s pelvis sounded a loud crunch, and he screamed even louder.

“You’ve broken a family!” Fletcher yelled as he moved on to the gryphon’s legs. “I’m not letting you join your little pals until I’ve broken every bone in your body!”

The pace continued, a series of quick, hard strikes at random locations on the gryphon’s body, until the tom was lying on his belly, every leg having been broken in several places. Fletcher was now working on the other wing, and was making sure to be reeeeeal slow about it.

“AHHHHHHH! P-PLEASE! HAVE MERCY!” the gryphon screamed.

Fletcher stopped. “Mercy…” He grabbed the gryphons ear and pulled it upwards. “Do you hear that?!”

Over by the carriage, the foal was still crying.

“You took lives without so much as a second thought, over something as stupid as money! That child’s family is gone forever now, because of you! You dare to speak of mercy?!”

The gryphon didn’t say anything, his only response a pathetic whimper.

“That’s what I thought,” Fletcher hissed.

“Please... just end it quickly,” the gryphon whined.

Fletcher’s eyes narrowed. He stared daggers at the mongrel as he walked around to face him. He was silent for a long time, considering his words. A quick death is far too good for you, but in the interest of getting a now orphaned foal out of the rain, I shall show you your precious ‘mercy’. He slowly brought the crossbow up.

“Very well.”

Click.

Shoom!

Fletcher slowly approached the crying foal and the pony couple laying in the mud. He reached ahead with his magic and levitated the carriage door overhead to shield the child from the rain. Would it be kinder to just send the poor thing where its parents are?

Suddenly, something caught his eye. A feeble hoof was trying to rock the bundle back and forth. The stallion was still alive! Fletcher cursed himself as he bolted toward them. If he hadn’t spent those precious seconds punishing the last gryphon, he could have been getting them help by now. He just assumed the parents were already gone. Fletcher slid to a stop, frantically turned the stallion over, and brought him upright.

“Thank goodness! You’re ali--”

The word died in his throat when he saw the wound. The stallion looked up at him with hazy eyes.

“Thankyou,” he croaked.

Without looking away from the stallion, Fletcher picked up the bundled child with his magic and wicked away the moisture. Then he began to rock it back and forth in his aura.

“D-don’t speak, I’m taking you to get he--”

“I’m not going to make it," the pony interrupted him. "Please, take care of my daugh--”

“Don’t say that! Come on, we’ve got to get you to a hospital.” Fletcher started to envelope the stallion in his aura so he could lift him onto his back, but the stallion made him pause, pressing a shaky hoof against his chest-plate.

“The body knows when it’s a goner, my Friend,” he whispered.

“But your daughter needs you! A child needs to have a father!” Fletcher cried.

The pony coughed. Then he smiled despite the pain, or the blood trickling from his lips. “She’ll have one,” he rasped, “one that’s even better than the one she was given.”

Fletcher blinked. “Me?! You can’t be serious! I’m a changeling! As far as you lot are concerned, I’m a monster. You honestly intend to leave your daughter with someone like me?!”

“No Sir...” The pony's eyes began to close. “Monsters don’t defend the helpless. You Sir, are a hero, which is exactly what a father is supposed to be for his daughter.” Tears streamed from the stallion’s eyes as he spoke those last words. He coughed again. “I don’t have much time. Please, promise me you’ll take care of her.”

“She must have extended family, an Aunt or Uncle that would take her in?”

The pony shook his head. “She has nopony. Please, I beg you.”

Fletcher’s good eye was watering. After a long pause, he finally answered. “I promise I will make sure she’s taken care of. What...what is her name?”

Another smile graced the stallion’s face as a peaceful expression washed over him.

“That’s up to you. She’s yours now,” he muttered. The stallion released a final, peaceful sigh, and ventured off to see his wife.

Fletcher’s eyes squeezed shut, releasing the stream down the good side of his face. The pony misunderstood him. If he took care of the filly himself, she would die. Children give love to their parents unconditionally. While it was possible that he could remain in changeling form so he wouldn’t harm her, doing so would likely get him caught very quickly. Not to mention he'd probably terrify the poor thing.

Fletcher shook his head. She was better off with a family of ponies anyway.

The closest city to them was Canterlot. He would take her there and find an orphanage. That way, at the very least, he could come in disguise to check up on her, to make sure she was well taken care of until a family adopted her.

He turned his attention to the filly he was rocking in the air. She was dry now, but she was still crying... He didn’t blame her one bit. He gently lowered her into his hooves and rocked her back and forth.

Since he wouldn’t be with her very long, he changed into his favorite unicorn disguise: black coat with blue eyes, and a mane ‘n’ tail to match. He’d need it if he was going to take her to town, but this also let him comfort her with the sensation of warm fur.

He caught a glimpse of her face for the first time, and she was absolutely beautiful. Her coat was a warm, creamy, butterscotch color, and her mane was a soft blend of blues. She looked like the shores of a sandy beach. The sight of her tears, and the knowledge that there will surely be many more to come in her life, were enough to break his heart.

“Shhhhh, it’s alright little one,” he cooed. “Everything’s alright.”

The filly settled somewhat at the warm touch, but still continued to moan. Fletcher wondered, as he wiped away her tears, if a pony’s foal would respond to a changeling’s lullaby the same way. In the hive, changelings didn’t have family units. They were like a village. Every changeling was raised by the entire hive, their needs met by the nearest adult. So naturally, Fletcher knew how to take care of children, just… not pony children. Deciding it wouldn’t hurt, Fletcher began to chirp a lullaby.

Changeling lullabies, or even their songs for that matter, weren’t like normal songs. There were no spoken words, just harmonious vibrations and frequencies that sounded like chimes, or string instruments, or the sound of running a wet hoof over the rim of a crystal glass. The unique thing about changelings was that, because of their unique tongues and throats, they were able to chirp multiple different melodies at once, which was pretty much impossible for any other creature. This ability was what allowed them to mimic any voice. Fletcher chuckled mentally. If they really wanted to mess with someone, a changeling could speak with multiple voices at once, make echoes, or throw their voices. He screwed with Dizzy a couple times doing that, and they’d laughed for hours.

To his pleasant surprise, he noticed the same change in emotions as a changeling foal would in response to his lullaby. He tuned it based on that feedback, and it wasn’t long before she settled down. She then snuggled into him as close as she could, and fell asleep. Fletcher sighed. If I were a pony, I’d keep you in a heartbeat little one. I’m so sorry this happened to you.

Having a desire to rid her of this horrendous scene, the changeling took a dry blanket from the carriage, snugly bound her to his back with it, and with a floating door overhead, began the long walk to the capital. Changing to a pegasus and flying would have been much faster, but after using those techniques on the gryphons he didn’t have the energy to fight against the wind. That, and he wouldn’t be able to hold up the door and keep them dry so she could sleep. No. This was fine. She was warm, dry, and sleeping soundly, which was all that mattered.

Author's Note

Wow hey? Fletcher wasn't kidding about that whole 'unleash Tartarus' thing!

Ok, so a note about everybody vs everypony so you guys know I'm not just slipping up every time I switch. As a creature that can turn into any of the multitude of beings in the MLP universe, changelings use the term everybody, unless they are in disguise. Then they use whatever term is appropriate for that culture.

Anyway, if you like it, be sure to show it! Fav and like, but also leave comments. I love hearing reader's favourite parts, what they liked, and so forth.
Cheers.