Changelingby TheOnlyChaptersPrologueNew PlacesFoodHorizontal and Vertical ContraptionsPrologueDesolate wasteland for miles. This is what the changelings called home. Every day was the same routine: go out, feed on some love, and bring it back for the queen. After the failed attempt at taking over Canterlot, the changelings had a harder time entering any city in Equestria. Everypony was always looking out for changelings. They expected the queen to come back with a new plan, and were on high alert for any changelings that might enter the cities. In the hive, far away from Equestria, the thousands of changelings buzzed around the area, bringing food to the queen or resting. Life under the queen was mundane, and repetitive. It was a normal day, the sun was beating down on the wasteland. All the changelings were accustomed to the harsh conditions of their home. There was almost never any rain, and no plants grew. Should the changelings had needed anything besides love to feed on, they would've had to find a new home. The changelings had claimed the land for themselves, and faced no opposition. Without any need for water or plants, the changelings saw no other forms of life within miles of their home. Every changeling minion was loyal to the queen, all except for one. Whether he had been immune to the mind-control spells the queen was capable of, or was just born differently, he felt the oppression of the queen. Whenever he tried to talk to his fellow changelings about the queen's oppressive nature, they pushed the thoughts away and called him a traitor. Although he knew that Queen Chrysalis was evil, none of the other changelings seemed to mind. Every day, this changeling would dream of leaving the colony, finding a new life beyond the hive. His ability to change into other ponies would cloak him in the cities, and protect him from being recaptured by the Queen Chrysalis. But escaping the colony was a difficult task. He wasn't a collector, so he didn't fly out into Equestria to harvest love and bring it back to the nest. Instead, he stood guard around the nest, tending to the queen's needs when she called upon her minions. Most of the time the changelings spent the day fighting each other for practice, or sleeping on the dusty ground. While the queen plotted, the changelings worked to become stronger and faster. None of the changelings had names, and their similarity in physical appearance made them discerning between them nearly impossible. Leaving the nest would be no problem at all, and nobody would be able to tell if he had left. The changeling knew that escaping the nest would be easy, but he was scared. Scared to leave the life he knew so well and try to fit in somewhere he was hated. Although he hated his current life, the life he would be moving into would be dangerous. This day, with the sun shining brightly and not a gust of wind in the sky, was the perfect opportunity to escape. The changeling found his way through the nest, his blue eyes showing no emotion. Like every other day, the other changelings buzzed through the air, finding different things to do. He flew unnoticed, looking the same as every other changeling in the area. With ease, he slipped out of the nest. He would not be missed. The nest was an unpleasant place, but flying away from it scared the changeling. He had rarely left it, and when he did he hadn't gone farther than a few miles. He wasn't sure where he was going, but as long as it was away from the long, boring days of life in the nest, he was fine with it. Flying through the air was no problem with his trained wings. Hours passed, and the land rolled along underneath the changeling. He could see buildings, which meant that pony civilization was near. Knowing that his true form would not be accepted among the residents, he had to find a pony to take the form of. He landed a good distance away from the town. There was a windmill, a large tree, and plenty of buildings. It was the perfect place to try and start a new life, but he'd need a new identity. A pony that he could take the form of whom the other wouldn't know. That way he wouldn't have to know anything about whoever he took the form of. This wasn't an easy task, as changelings could only morph into what they saw, but that didn't mean that imagination couldn't play a part. All the changeling needed was a template. He was different from the rest, smarter. He needed a form that he could call his own so that there wouldn't be two identical ponies in the same area. He trotted toward the town, looking for any stray pony that may be taking a walk around it. There was no sign of life around him. As he trotted forward, the grass became greener and there were more flowers. He was approaching the town. Still in his menacing form, he needed to find a pony to copy. As he approached the outskirts of the town, he saw ponies trotting around the streets. He hid behind a bush, observing the different forms he could take. There were five ponies trotting through the area together. One of them particularly intrigued him. With a flash of light he took the form of the pony and waited for them to leave the area. All he had to do was not be caught in the same place as the pony he looked like, and he would be able have enough time to combine the different elements of multiple ponies to create his own look. Then his new life would truly begin. He trotted into the town with his new form. All he had to do was ask around and he'd know exactly where he lived, what he was like, and how to act. A sign outside the town made it clear that this was "Ponyville". With his new form, he could live among the townsfolk without ever being discovered. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ There was a knock at the door. "It's open!" yelled Twilight. In walked Rarity, Fluttershy, Rainbow Dash, Applejack, and Pinkie Pie. "Where have you all been?" asked Twilight. They all responded together. "The outskirts of town." New PlacesNew forms were always a new experience. When a changeling copies the physical appearance of another pony, they also gain their physical prowess. Changeling wings are thin and light, built for quick, agile movement and turns rather than efficient flying. Pegasus wings, however, gave the changeling a new asset. There wasn't any need to transition between pegasus and changeling wings, as the changeling would already be accustomed to flying. However, the changeling's horn would be gone. Changelings also couldn't take the form of something that is larger than themselves. The queen was the only changeling that could take the form of a larger pony, or an alicorn. Any other changeling would have to stick with something their own size, although it did not have to be a pony. When taking on the form of a unicorn, the changeling would lose their wings but gain a different venue of magic. Their short, black horns were only capable of casting a small amount of spells. Most of them involved green magic, the most offensive kind, usually used for explosions on impact. Unicorn horns were capable of a much larger range of spells, and the longer a changeling could stay in the form of a unicorn the more magic they would be able to use. Although it may seem like earth pony forms would be avoided, they were preferred just as much as the other types of ponies. Changelings, when in a new form, could only fight with physical combat as they would lose their familiar magic. Their fangs, hard exoskeleton, and spiked head would be gone, leaving them with little to fight with. Earth ponies were stronger than the rest, making their form more useful for combat. Each new form was a learning experience. Although the mind of the changeling did not change, having a different physical appearance meant adapting to it, and it was no different for this changeling. No names were given to the changelings at birth, so they were always referred to as "you" or "it". The same is true for the lone changeling, finding his way through Ponyville. Everything was so brightly colored in Ponyville, and his new eyes showed the colors fully. Unlike his normal, solid blue eyes, the eyes of a pony could interpret color much better, and his lack of exposure to such color lead to a painful headache. Even though his physical form was that of a pony, his mind still interpreted what his new eyes saw in the same way it would if he was still a changeling. Becoming accustomed to the new eyes would take some time. Each building and pony had their own unique color, and each color struck his mind like a hammer. Each vibrant shade gave off a different feeling that caused the changelings mind to be stimulated in ways that weren't familiar. It wasn't pleasant. The more vibrant the colors were, the more painful it was for his mind. And as the amount of colors his eyes took in increased, he could feel his mind trying to fight them off harder. Each color caused another throb in his small brain. The ground felt different to the changeling. Unlike the hard, outer shell of his former self, the hooves of a pony were softer. Not by too much, but enough to cause a difference in his gait. Usually he would never feel the ground through his exoskeleton, but the hoof felt every step, making each one awkward and hesitant. Each step had to be taken gingerly, or he'd feel as though he was pressing too hard. Although it felt awkward for him, to everypony else his trot looked normal. Within the town of Ponyville, the residents trotted carelessly through the streets. He felt as though all eyes were fixated him, picking him out as "different". Usually ponies would scream at the sighting of a changeling, being cloaked felt relieving. It felt as though a burden had been lifted, that he no longer had to hide from the ponies. He was one of them. Each and every eye was not focused on him, even though each pony he passed he felt the need to look at. Every time somepony would look at him, his heart would skip a beat. His mind would race as he looked for a way to escape, afraid that the pony had seen through his tricks and saw the changeling within. But that never happened. As he trotted through the town, observing all the brightly colored ponies that were so different from the black color of changelings he knew so well, he felt his head being weighed down. Although it was no hefty burden, a mane hung from his head. Unlike the spikes that stuck rigidly out of his skull as a changeling, the mane was flimsy. It added a small amount of tug downwards, causing his head to tilt sideways if he wasn't careful in maintaining balance. The extra weight was just enough to disorientate him, forcing him to readjust the way he held up his head. A mane was something he had never experienced before. Changelings that left the nest often had experience with new forms, but for him the transition added plenty of small changes that created problems. Slowly, his steps became harder, and a clear clopping sound could be heard whenever his hoof hit the ground. Keeping his head tilted for a short while helped him adjust his internal balance, allowing him to cope with the mane. He got a couple odd stares while he trotted through the streets of Ponyvile, his head slightly tilted. In their true form, changelings had short, stiff tails, but the new tail of a pony didn't pose any problem to the changeling. It was simply extra weight that had to be dragged along. Each step became more mechanical, and keeping his head straight required little to no effort. He felt vulnerable without his hard outer skin, but there was nothing he could do to fix that. Anything that brushed up against him felt different. He sensed when something touched him. There was nothing to protect him from outside forces, everything he felt, he felt wholly. The sun was hot. His fleshy skin absorbed every ray and the heat seeped into his body, creating warmth. It was uncomfortable, but bearable. The town was all foreign to the changeling. It wasn't desolate and empty, but busy and populated. Crowds of ponies trotted up and down the streets, and he trotted among them. There was no duty to the queen, or days spent wallowing in the emptiness of the nest. Here, there was plenty to do and see, even if it hurt his eyes. Although, he still felt as though he was in the nest. He was just another pony among many others, but he was separated. His new form had color and uniqueness, something that made him different from the other ponies. All changelings looked the same, but as a pony he was an individual. He could have a name, and nopony would confuse him with another one. There was a sense of power that he gained, that he was himself finally. He wasn't just another "minion". He was- "Hello there!" He stopped. His thought process completely froze and so did his legs. He felt something on his forehead but he didn't know what it was. The colors that surrounded him were ignored, and his eyes focused only on the stallion that stood before him. He didn't know what to do. A voice in his head was screaming at him to run, that the stallion knew who he really was. "I haven't seen you in a while! How've you been?" asked the stallion. The changeling's eyes were wide open. There was no escaping now. He swallowed the saliva that had collected in his mouth and looked to find his voice. With a new body came a new set of chords to pluck when it came time to speak, and learning how to use them was difficult. Within his body he searched for the vocal chords and with great delicacy, spoke. Changelings didn't have voices, but were educated enough to know the language. It was the only way they could understand their queen. With his new set of vocal chords, he let out a coarse noise. Voices were a tricky thing. The stallion looked at him quizzically. "Something wrong?" The changeling shook his head, and continued to search for the voice that his new form gave him. Changelings never needed to use their voices to speak, and finding out how to form words was difficult enough. Time spent around the queen had given him enough time to see what speaking looked like, and how to do it. He opened his mouth. "I'm fine." He did it, the words had come out. His throat felt every breath leave and form familiar sounds. He had found the vocal chords, and manipulating them was as simple as controlling how the sounds exited the mouth. "Well that's great to hear. Do you remember who I am?" The stallion smiled, expecting an affirmative reply. "No." The stallion's smile fell, and he stared into the eyes of the pony. "Really? You don't remember me. I thought you'd know me." The stallion turned his head, giving another view of himself for the pony to see. He was sure that this pony knew him. "No." "Well... You must be the wrong pony, I'm terribly sorry. What's your name?" The changeling felt as though an arrow had been shot into his heart. A name? Changelings didn't have names, and they had no idea what a proper name was. He could feel something wet and warm rolling down his forehead. Although he didn't know what it was, he couldn't bring himself to wipe it off. This small bead of water rolled off his face and onto the ground as the changeling stared into the eyes of the stallion, speechless. "Is it really that hot out?" The stallion looked up towards the sun and back at the sweating pony. The changeling thought of all the names he knew. Chrysalis was the only finding. That was the single name that he had heard, but it was a name unique to the queen. Calling himself Chrysalis would be suicide. There were no other options. He looked around, houses and market stands surrounding him. There was nothing to help him. A voice from behind called out a word unknown to the changeling, and then again. A pony approached the changeling from behind, continuing to say the odd word. "We have to go," said the pony. Without saying goodbye to the stallion, the changeling was whisked away by the pony that had called out the odd word. It sounded like a name. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Twilight waited patiently in the central square. Ponies trotted by, on some sort of arbitrary errand, or sat around to watch the blue sky, or bought things from the multiple markets. From the street nearby trotted in Applejack, who was holding a basket in her mouth, and Rainbow Dash. Twilight smiled at them and waved, her hoof sticking up over the crowd of ponies. Applejack nudged Rainbow, who was eyeing some fresh apples on a nearby stand, and the two made their way towards Twilight. Within a few minutes, Rarity and Pinkie Pie stood outside the sea of ponies, looking for their friends. A purple hoof stuck out over the crowd, and they trotted over. They made idle chatter with their companions as they waited for Fluttershy. Through the groups of ponies, Fluttershy found her way to her friends, and the six of them shared a greeting. The weather was perfect for a picnic, and with Twilight being ahead of her schedule and everypony else being free that day, there was no way the opportunity would be passed up. "Applejack, did you bring the apples?" asked Twilight. "You betcha!" "And Rarity, did you bring the blanket?" Rarity stared blankly at Twilight. "What blanket?" "The blanket, the one I asked you to bring! We can't have a picnic without a blanket, it says so in my book!" Her yelling elicited no more than a blank stare from Rarity. "It must have slipped my mind." Twilight sighed. "I guess I'll just go grab a blanket from the library, then." Twilight turned to trot off, and as she did she noticed Pinkie Pie. "Is everything alright, Pinkie?" Pinkie rubbed her forehead with a hoof. "I'm fine." FoodAfter waiting with the other ponies for the purple unicorn to get her blanket, the changeling followed them through the crowds of Ponyville central and towards the fields beyond the town. He didn't know where they were taking him, or what exactly his role was in the group, but he knew that he had taken the place of somepony in the group. There was no way for him to figure out what the pony he had taken the form of acted like, so he decided it would be best to not say anything. It was a risk, of course. Should the pony he was be talkative he would be found out. The option of changing into a different pony was still viable, but that would require him to be able to provide an explanation for the disappearance of the pony he currently was. As he followed the ponies out of the town, the buildings gave way to an open field. There was grass covering the ground and trees stuck like pillars from the ground. It was nothing like the desolate landscape of the nest. Everything was bright and colorful, but the changeling's eyes were still adjusting and the colors hurt. In front of the group was a unicorn, leading the group out into the field. The changeling and the four other ponies followed close behind. Inside the field wasn't empty, there were other ponies that had the same idea. Baskets and blankets covered the area and around them sat ponies that were eating or chatting or just enjoying the weather. Some younger ponies ran around in the open field, enjoying the warmth of the sun. The picnics generally were held under the shade of a tree. The changeling continued to follow the ponies, contemplating running off. Surely the pony he copied would find her friends. The consequences would have to be dealt with later, but engaging in a picnic was asking to be found out. All around him ponies were eating daisy sandwiches or oats or grass, and it didn't take long to figure out that a picnic meant eating food. The changeling didn't know exactly what was going on, but if eating regular food was involved there was no way he'd be able to stay undercover. Changelings fed on love, and love alone. Any other forms of food were inedible to changelings. Love wasn't attained like normal food. It wasn't a tangible source of nourishment, and its abstractness made it possible to feed without being noticed. Although love couldn't be measured, and didn't have a taste, whenever a changeling felt love they would absorb it. It would be silently absorbed, digested by the changeling through a series of odd-looking organs, and transformed into an actual food source. Changelings fed on magic, and love was their fuel. The products of digested love accounted for the changelings ability to perform magic. Their green magic was fueled by the love they obtained. The digested love also made a greenish goo as a waste product. Changelings had learned how to use it more effectively by using it as an adhesive. The queen didn't just make the adhesive, but also had the ability to create a chrysalis, earning the name 'Queen Chrysalis'. Inside the field now, the ponies looked for a spot to settle down in. Within moments the picnic would begin, and finding a way out of eating food would be near impossible for the changeling. Lying would easy, simply saying that he wasn't hungry would do the trick, but he had no idea what personality he was supposed to use. Although he had adopted the vocal chords of the pony he copied, personality was something that had to be replicated on its own. Anything that deviated from the original pony's personality, and there would have to be an explanation. Any holes in the explanation, and there would be suspicion. Any suspicion, and the changeling would be figured out. There was no middle option, it was either stay for the picnic and speak one word sentences the entire time, or run off and transform into another pony before they could catch him. Both options were beyond risky, but there was no compromise. Small beads of sweat formed on the changelings brow, a concept foreign to him. As a changeling, the outer shell would prevent anything like sweat to be excreted from the body. Being nervous or anxious as a changeling led to little or no physical changes. Without pupils to dilate and shift around his formerly blue eye, the changeling was unaware of the clear signs he was showing. Sweat and pupils were new concepts to him. When anxiety got the better of him before, he simply locked his knees into place to avoid shaking and there would be no signs. A slight breeze that swept over the field cooled off the changeling, but he continued to sweat. It wasn't the sun that was causing it at all. The other ponies seemed relieved by the wind, but the changeling found nothing in it. Trotting through the field the group of ponies stopped abruptly. The changeling had been too busy worrying about whether he should run or stay to realize they had stopped, and almost bumped into the pony in front of him. One of the ponies lai out a blanket, and with a unanimous decree that all of them were 'starving', they sat down on it and opened the basket. The changeling's eyes widened at the word 'starving'. He had been starved once or twice before, and it was awful. Without any love for days he had to work, and just before he felt like collapsing he received some nourishment. The pain was unbelievable back then, so he could only imagine what the group of ponies were feeling even though they were all smiling. As the other ponies took a seat, he was faced with the decision. He had to make it now or he would just be standing there, and that would be considered peculiar behavior. Neither choice was better than the other, and each one had its own risks, but the decision had to be made. Inside his head he imagined the two decisions on a wheel, and he spun it. One half was running away, and the other sitting down and staying. As the imaginary wheel spun in his head, he could feel little beads of sweat dripping off of his face. The sun was hot, and nervousness only added to it. All the ponies were looking at him now, and all at once the wheel stopped in his head. The decision was made. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ After Twilight had retrieved a blanket from her house, the ponies made their way to the field outside of Ponyville. It was a perfect day for a picnic, and obviously everypony else agreed. Blankets and picnic baskets littered the field and ponies sat around eating their lunches. Twilight and Applejack looked around for a spot to place the blanket while the others followed. Someplace that wasn't too far from the shade just in case it got too hot. "It is so hot out." Fluttershy wiped a bead of sweat from her brow. "It's hot out but just wait, the breeze will cool us down," replied Twilight, who wiped her own forehead to remove any sweat. Sure enough, a cool breeze brushed over the field, counteracting the warmth of the sun. Within a minute they had found the perfect spot. Should it become too hot, the picnic could be easily moved to the shade. Twilight stopped trotting and the others followed suit. She spread the blanket out on the ground and Applejack placed the basket on it. "I'm starved!" exclaimed Twilight. The others agreed with Twilight and found a place on the blanket. Applejack took food out of the basket and placed it in the center as the ponies found their spots. Twilight looked behind her and saw Pinkie Pie standing still by the edge of the blanket. "Pinkie, are you okay?" Pinkie didn't respond, it was if she didn't even hear Twilight. She stood still and let sweat drip off of her face. "Is it really that hot out?" asked Twilight. Pinkie's eyes stared straight ahead. Twilight waved a hoof in front of her face, and as if that was the trigger, Pinkie sprung into action. She turned quickly and galloped away from the picnic blanket. "Pinkie!" Twilight broke into a gallop and chased after her. As her friend, Twilight was set on figuring out what was wrong with Pinkie. The other ponies saw Twilight and Pinkie run off, and within a few seconds they realized what had just happened. Rainbow Dash spread her wings and with a powerful flap was already speeding towards Twilight and Pinkie. Applejack did the same, picking herself off the blanked and galloping after them. She managed to knock over the basket while getting up, spilling the remaining contents onto the blanket. Fluttershy sat on the blanket, too shocked from what was going on to go with the others, and Rarity just didn't want to gallop and get sweaty. Pinkie Pie galloped through the field, her flimsy mane caught in the wind. Twilight was close behind her, and Rainbow Dash was gaining through the air. Her ability to fly gave her an advantage over the grounded ponies. She was able to fly faster than they could gallop, and was gaining on Twilight. Pinkie looked over her shoulder and saw that Rainbow Dash was about to pass over Twilight. Soon she would be upon her. Applejack was also gaining on Twilight, her strong legs allowing her to gallop faster. Pinkie tried to move faster but she was already galloping as fast as she could and Rainbow Dash wasn't slowing down. Being able to fly gave her too much of an advantage in speed. "Pinkie, where are you going?" yelled Twilight. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ All at once, the changeling tore into a gallop. He turned away from the group of ponies and pushed hard on the grass. He wasn't sure where he was going, but anywhere away from the picnic was fine. There was some yelling behind him and he turned to see that three of the ponies were in hot pursuit, one of them closer than the others. With a snort, he pulled himself into overdrive and galloped a little faster, attempting to get far away from the ponies so he could transform into somepony else. What had once been a light breeze was now a strong gust blowing by his face. He was galloping at max speed, but when he turned to look behind himself a pegasus was gaining quickly. Flying was faster than galloping, the changeling knew this, but his pony form didn't have any wings. He looked behind him once more and saw that the pegasus was about to reach him. With another snort he tried to push himself even faster, but his legs had reached the limit. Within moments the pegasus would catch him... unless... Although it was risky and had 'bad idea' written all over it, the changeling knew there was no other choice. There was no possible excuse he could make at this point as to why he was running away, and there was no chance of going any faster. Unless he could fly. His mind was made up. A small flash of green magic surrounded the changeling, and when it finished it revealed his true form. He felt relieved. After being a pony his horn and wings felt so natural. His thin wings flapped and soon they were making the familiar buzzing noise. Within a moment he was flying in the air, faster than his legs could ever go. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Twilight received no answer to her call. She breathed in quick spurts, and sweat glistened on her face. Galloping in the warmth of the sun was tiring. Applejack was beside Twilight and already passing, and Rainbow Dash had nearly caught up with Pinkie. Soon they would find out what the matter with Pinkie was. Twilight almost gasped, but her heavy breathing didn't allow for one. In an instant, what had once been Pinkie Pie galloping away was now a black figure with thin wings. A changeling! Twilight almost tripped over her own hooves in shock, and she looked over at Applejack who was just as confused. Rainbow Dash's eyes widened and she almost forgot to keep flapping her wings. At first she didn't want to believe it, but her eyes did not deceive her. She was chasing a changeling. Twilight and Applejack stared helplessly as the changing flapped its wings and flew. It was moving too fast for both of the ponies, and they were already tired. Twilight dug her hooves into the ground, bringing her to a halt. Applejack did the same and watched as Rainbow Dash zipped by, still chasing the changeling. The two fliers were almost evenly matched, but Rainbow Dash had a small advantage. The thin wings of the changeling flapped much faster than Rainbow Dash's, but did not provide enough power to move faster. Rainbow Dash and the changeling flew out of the field and straight towards Ponyville. Suddenly the changeling dipped down and flew close to the ground. Without hesitation Rainbow Dash followed, and behind her a streak of rainbow followed. Both of them were going fast, but the Ponyville buildings were coming closer, adding a new element to the chase. The changeling smiled, knowing that this was his specialty. With wings that flapped fast enough to make a faint buzzing noise, the changeling could change directions extremely fast. Rainbow Dash, on the other hand, did not have this ability. The changeling sped up slightly as he entered an alleyway. Rainbow Dash was quick to follow. The tall walls of the buildings confined the flying space, but that was exactly what the changeling wanted. Without warning, he cut into a different alleyway with an almost ninety degree turn. Rainbow Dash tried to make the turn with the same speed, but couldn't flap hard enough to turn her body as fast as the changeling could. By the time she entered the new alleyway, the changeling was already half way down it. She snorted and sped toward him, leaving traces of a rainbow in her wake. Alleyways cut left and right, and each time the changeling would cut into one Rainbow Dash would lose a little ground. But the alleyways were running out. Soon they'd be on a populated street where everypony could see the changeling, and then Rainbow Dash would have him. Windows and trash cans zipped by Rainbow Dash as she pursued the changeling. He was flying directly for the central square. Rainbow Dash smiled and slowed down a little bit. There was no point in going her max speed if he was just going to be caught anyway, but the changeling had other plans. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ With his new wings, the changeling was able to fly again. His wings buzzed and brought him of the ground. Two of the ponies stopped chasing, realizing that it was useless. He smiled, but there was still one left. He would need to throw her off, and the only way to do that was to out-maneuver her, because out-flying her wasn't going to happen. He flew closer to the ground and into an alleyway, knowing that his wings would allow quicker turns. He was right. The pegasus couldn't keep up with his quick turns. He made sure to change alleyways randomly so that she couldn't anticipate it. After a couple turns, the pegasus was losing ground and starting to slow down. But the changeling knew better than to think that he had won. He remembered the populated area that he had been before going to the field, and looking ahead of him the alleyway opened up into the central square. Groups of ponies stood there, and the changeling would be caught immediately. If he changed forms now then the pegasus would know who he was, and if he changed forms later all the other ponies would know who he was. His mind raced as he tried to figure out a solution, but nothing was coming up. There was only one option, and that was to try something crazy. Without thinking about it, he took a hard left, but there was no alleyway there. Instead, there was a window. The changeling smashed through the window, shards of glass flying onto the floor of the room. Luckily, the changeling's hard shell protected from any cuts that the sharp glass would give him. However, the crash did have its repercussions. The changelings head ached from smashing into the glass head-first. His horn had cracked the glass, but his head had smashed it. There was no time to worry about that though. The room was small and cozy, with a table and some chairs in the nearby room. There was a pony in the room, but she was busy working on something. The crash through the window had startled her, but before she could turn around and confront the changeling he had already kicked down the wooden door. Looking out at the crowds of ponies he picked one out at random. There was no time to decide which form would be the best, only time for changing. A flash of green magic consumed the changeling and he took on his new form. As the pony in the house came galloping to see what happened, the changeling darted through the open doorway and into the central square. After getting a safe distance away from the house, he resumed a normal trot and blended in with the crowds. His heart was still racing and he shot a glance back at the house. It had all happened so quickly. The pony in the house stared in disbelief at the window and the door, and as she did so the pegasus that had been chasing the changeling flew through the broken window. The two ponies had a quick conversation, in which the changeling could only assume that the pegasus blamed the damages on him. Of course, the owner of the house didn't believe it and scolded the pegasus. With a smile, the changeling walked further into the crowds. The damages to the window and the door had been taken care of, and the pegasus was diverted. Now all he had to do was lay low and the whole thing would blow over, then he could resume his quest for a normal life. He just hoped he wouldn't meet his duplicate. Looking down at his hooves he saw what color his new form was. It was an interesting color. Horizontal and Vertical ContraptionsBefore going undercover, becoming somepony else didn't require that the changeling stay keep away from that which they had taken the form of, but staying incognito meant the changeling had to keep a watch out for himself, or at least the pony whose identity he had stolen. Since there were no mirrors lying around, the changeling could only base his look off of the color. Luckily, it seemed unique: a very light aquamarine. As a changeling colors were one of the most important things to discern between, considering that a slight change in the tint of a mane or coat could ruin the whole disguise. Changing from one form to the next not only meant copying physical features, but knowing exactly which colors to use, which meant having an eye for colors. Scanning the area, the changeling confirmed that light aquamarine wasn't a common color among the ponies, being the only one who seemed to have the color. While it made it easier for him to spot his duplicate, he stuck out like a sore hoof in the center of the town, and attention was the last thing he wanted. Ponies bustled to and fro around him, moving along with whatever business they had at whatever speed it took them to get there punctually. Some of them were cantering, and some of them were trotting slowly. More times than not, the cantering ones bumped into the others. Every once in a while a pony or two would bump into the changeling, to which they'd mutter a short apology and move on while the changeling stood trotted on silently. He didn't know who was familiar with his pony form, and speaking with the wrong voice could ruin his disguise. The chatter of ponies flowed through the air, being jumbled up into an incoherent mix on the way and becoming nothing but noise. Sometimes a pony would yelp or call out from across the square, and their words would be audible and clear, but those were the only instances. From the side, the changeling heard a pony calling out to his friend across the center square, his voice elevating over the noise of the others for three short yells, before uniting with his friend and moving along. From behind, the changeling heard one word being repeated over and over again. It didn't sound like any word he was familiar with. Without thinking, the changeling quickened his pace. He didn't have any doubts that the word was a name, and whether it was his name or not didn't matter, it was better to be safe. The shouting came closer, and the voice became louder. It felt as though the voice was following the changeling, and there was no room to take risks. He shifted out of a trot and into a slow canter, avoiding unnecessary attention from moving too fast, but the voice continued to follow. "Lyra!" An open road was only a couple meters away. Within a few seconds the changeling could break into a gallop and find a hiding place. Although he was anxious to reach the road away from the crowds of ponies, he disciplined himself to maintain his slow canter. There was a chance that the shouting pony wasn't looking for the pony he copied, but it was certain that galloping would draw attention. With a few more steps, the changeling exited the arc where the crowd of ponies met the open road. Finally free from the stray eyes of strangers, the changeling took a long step forward, transitioning into a gallop. A hoof fell on his back. His heart skipped a beat, convinced that he had been found out. He secretly reprimanded himself for doing something wrong with the copying, whether it be the cutie mark or the eye color. Those were the two most commonly missed qualities of copied ponies, and as a changeling that was trying to stay incognito wouldn't get very far if he couldn't even get the details right. Realizing that all hope was lost anyway, as running away would only instigate a chase and more attention, he turned to face the owner of the hoof. A cream colored pony stood behind him, panting as she looked up into the eyes of the changeling. Her mouth hung open, ready to speak words but unable to between the gasps of breath. Many of the ponies were staring at her, and rightly so, as she had just galloped through the crowds to catch up to the changeling. Taking a deep breath, the pony finally spoke. "Lyra, I've been looking for you all over! Funny story really. I was cleaning up the living room and I found your little bag of extra strings, so you don't have to go get new ones." Her face broke out into a wide smile, her eyes pleading for gratitude. The changeling stared back at the pony. Her mane was of two different colors, one strand was a dark blue that fell next to her face, beginning and ending in a curl, while the other strand was pink that ended before it could come down. Her tail was almost the same, with a pink strand sandwiched in between two dark blue strands, creating a flowing tail that ended in curls, making it look like a waterfall. The changeling blinked, unsure of what response he was supposed to give, whether it be a nod or a shake of the head. Speaking was off limits, as any change in voice would need an explanation, and any explanation could lead to more explanations. "Well, I found your spare strings so you can come back to the house now. Isn't that great?" This was a question the changeling could answer. Even in the changeling colonies, asking a question that started with "isn't that" usually sought out agreement. Although he had no idea to what strings the pony was referring to, the changeling nodded his head, hoping that this was one of the times that agreement was being sought. "Well, I guess that means we can go back home now. It's almost time for lunch anyway. Anything specific you have in mind?" asked the pony. The changeling shook his head, even though his stomach growled at the word "lunch". It had been a while since he had had any love to feed on. "Well then I guess we should just head home then. I'll make us some lunch, apples and some freshly squeezed orange juice." The pony stared at the changeling, waiting for some definite, expected response. All she received was a blank stare. "Lyra, you hate orange juice. Is something wrong with you?" The changeling looked away for a second, small beads of sweat forming on his forehead. It was clear to him that he was this "Lyra" that the pony kept speaking of. He considered galloping away, unable to answer the question. She obviously expected a verbal answer, and a shake of the head wouldn't do anymore. Before he could decide whether to gallop away or stand still with a nervous look in his eyes, the cream-colored pony spoke. "Are you sick? Is that why you aren't saying anything?" Had he lacked any more self-discipline, the changeling would have let out a sigh of relief. He promptly nodded his head, knowing that she would explain the rest for herself. "Oh, I see. You've come down with a bad case of maryngitis, haven't you? That's alright, I know just the drink that will help cure you. Come on, let's go home." Without another word, the pony turned and trotted back into the crowds of ponies, the changeling following her. They trotted for a short while, coming out on the other side of the central square and going down a road. After traveling down the road for a minute or so, the pony stopped in front of a house and turned toward it. It looked like every other house on the street: a pale, yellow, timber frame with a thatched roof and an overhanging top floor. The changeling, or his new form "Lyra", trotted into the home behind the pony. Inside was something that the changeling had never seen before, a living room. A long, flat, colorful blanket covered the floor, small bristles protruding from it to make it soft. Patterns were drawn on the blanket, and it took up nearly the all of the room's floor. Nearby was a structure with two flat pieces of carved wood attached to each other in ninety-degree angles so that one went vertically upward and one came horizontally outward. The whole structure was supported by four straight legs. There were multiple contraptions that mirrored that one throughout the entire room, and as the changeling looked around he saw paintings hanging from the wall and vases placed on structures that were like the other ones, but lacked the vertical board. They were simply a board placed on top of four wooden legs. Most of it was new to the changeling, having lived his entire life within the confines of the desolate wasteland he used to call home, rarely getting away from it. Before he had a chance to observe everything, the pony led him into another room, with a horizontal board contraption in the center and multiple vertical board contraptions surrounding it. There was a small plant resting in the middle of the horizontal board contraption, which seemed to be made exclusively for setting things on. "Have a seat in one of the chairs, I'll prepare you something special to help clear your throat up." The changeling looked at one of the vertically backed wooden constructions, labeling them as a "chair". He trotted over to one, setting himself comfortably on the chair and looking around at the room. There were a couple boxes that were connected to the roof, all of them with a small board attached to their outsides and a small handle attached to that. Looking behind himself, the changeling spotted a picture. It was of the pony whose identity he had stolen, and the pony that moved around the room finding different ingredients and wooden tools, occasionally pulling a box out of the wooden structure that lined the wall of the room. Underneath the photo were the words "Lyra and Bon Bon". From what he had collected, the changeling assumed that he was playing the role of "Lyra", and that the pony who had swept him off the streets was "Bon Bon". Looking at his pony form in the picture, he noticed his mane cut and color, marking them off as things to look for when avoiding his duplicate. However, the picture was taken behind the ponies as they stared into the sunset, leaving the front of his form a mystery. "Can you take the plant off of the table and put it by the window? It hasn't seen sunlight for a long time." One word stood out among the others to the changeling. "Table" was new, and since the plant was on the horizontal board with legs, it seemed obvious that it was called a "table". The changeling removed the plant from the table and trotted over to a nearby window. Placing the plant on the window sill, he heard Bon Bon's voice again. "And could you grab a vase from the living room and put it on the table as a centerpiece, and pick one of the prettier ones, the table needs to look nice." With each sentence spoken, the changeling's vocabulary grew. He trotted into the room he had come from, mentally labeling it as the "living room". Looking at all the vases, he could not decide what a "pretty one" was. There was nothing aesthetically pleasing to him about any of them. He picked the most colorful one, grabbing it in his mouth and retreating back into the room where Bon Bon was. He placed the vase on the table, pushing it into the center with his nose while Bon Bon giggled. "Decided that you're too good for magic now, have we?" The changeling lifted a hoof and felt the top of his head, and sure enough there was a horn protruding from it. Wondering how he hadn't figured it out earlier, the changeling tested his unicorn horn, lifting up stray objects from his seat at the table while Bon Bon slaved away with her concoction. A horn was not as noticeable as he thought, and having previously been an earth pony he wasn't readily using magic. The picture had been of no help either, and there were no indicators that would specifically point out the horn to him. However, a unicorn horn was a valuable asset, allowing him to perform spells that he couldn't do as a changeling. As he was levitating the objects, he noticed a small device that sat on a table, but not a normal table, one that connected with the wall and ran along the wall for a short distance. Ingredients covered the long table more and more as Bon Bon continued her work. The device was small and a light brown, with a delicately carved wooden shape that was curved at the bottom and slowly indented until it reached the top, where it curled into a small ball. Connecting the two sides of the device was a small bar, creating an empty space inside the wooden structure. Thin, silver strings attached to the small bar and to the other end of the device. However, there seemed to be more space carved than was needed for the strings, as a slice of space to the side of the device was completely empty, as if there was supposed to be another string there. Levitating the small instrument into the air, the changeling turned it around and around, observing it from all sides. What it was supposed to do was a complete mystery to him. "Alright, it's finished!" Bon Bon turned to the table and set a glass cup in front of the changeling, causing him to quickly drop the device out of the air. He looked at the drink that had been placed in front of him. It was an opaque, greenish color. The changeling stared at the cup for a few seconds, observing small beads of water forming on the cold glass. "It's a family recipe, gets rid of maryngitis faster than you can imagine. Go on, try it, don't let the color discourage you," said Bon Bon, pushing the glass cup closer to the changeling. Staring at the drink, the changeling felt his heart rate speed up and his forehead mimic the glass of the cup, slowly forming beads of water. Realizing that he had no other choice but to drink it or get rid of it, the changeling took a chance. Dramatically pointing behind Bon Bon with his mouth wide open, the changeling widened his eyes. Bon Bon turned around, looking for whatever had caused the changeling to act as he did. Without thinking, the changeling lifted the cup into the air, poured all of the liquid into the vase on the table, and brought the cup to his lips, pretending to finish the drink. As Bon Bon turned back around, realizing that nothing had happened and nothing was behind her, she looked at the changeling skeptically, the empty cup levitating close to his lips "Did you just drink all that?" she asked, only to be answered by another nod of the head. She sighed and took the cup from the changeling. Knowing that she'd eventually find the drink in the vase, the changeling waited for her to turn completely around before levitating the vase over to the flowers, dumping the drink into the soil of the plant, and placing the vase back onto the table. He watched as Bon Bon went to prepare more food. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Bon Bon wasn't the best chef, but she wasn't the worst either. Most of her recipes were "family recipes", and usually that meant something her grandma had scribbled down on a piece of paper many years ago. Her grandma had been a terrific chef, especially of pastries and sweets, but her writing was just about illegible. Following the recipes meant risking misreading an ingredient and creating an awful dish. Bon Bon usually stuck to the more common, easier foods to make, unless it was a candy. Her cutie mark didn't lie, and anything sweet was her specialty, but sweets were not lunch food. Taking two slices of bread, she pressed some fresh daises onto one slice and put the other slice on top of it, creating the simplest, yet most delicious, lunchtime meal of all time. She made four sandwiches, placing them onto a plate and carrying them over to the table where Lyra sat quietly, her voice still suffering from maryngitis. Bon Bon assumed that her drink had no effect, and was made incorrectly. She set the plate on the table, taking one sandwich off of it and pushing the rest toward Lyra, who eyed them skeptically. Bon Bon took a bite out of her sandwich, staring at Lyra while she levitated a sandwich into the air and brought it near her face. Although Bon Bon knew Lyra could be odd at times, she was reaching new heights as she carefully examined the sandwich. Going in for another bite, Bon Bon closed her eyes and savored the delicious flavors of fresh daisies. Upon opening them, she looked at Lyra. The sandwich was gone. "Did you just eat that entire sandwich that fast?" asked Bon Bon. Lyra nodded, like she had been doing the entire time. Although Bon Bon knew she couldn't help it, the silent answers were slowly getting on her nerves. "You must be hungry," said Bon Bon, taking another bite out of her own sandwich. For the rest of the lunch, Lyra sat quietly in her seat, refusing to eat any more sandwiches. After a few minutes, Bon Bon had eaten the other two sandwiches while Lyra watched, neither of them saying a word. Her eyes occasionally drifting off and looking somewhere else before positioning themselves back where they had been before. At the end of the meal, when the plate was clean, Lyra's horn glowed, and she levitated her lyre into the air. Bon Bon watched as she played around with it in the air, probably checking to see how she was going to fix the broken string. Earlier that day one of the strings had snapped, and the replacements that Lyra kept in a small bag were nowhere to be found. They were extremely hard to find and purchase, but Bon Bon found them just as Lyra left in search of some new ones, saving her from a long trip around the area and maybe even other parts of Equestria to find spare lyre strings. "So, are you going to fix it?" asked Bon Bon after watching Lyra play around with the lyre for a minute. Lyra didn't respond, but put the lyre back onto the counter. "Here, I'll go get your little bag of strings," said Bon Bon, getting out of her chair and trotting into the living room. As she entered the room, there was a knock at the door. Bon Bon opened the door and had a brief chat with the pony that had knocked. Lyra strained her neck to see who Bon Bon was talking to, but couldn't see anything past Bon Bon's tail. After a couple seconds of chatter, the door shut and Bon Bon trotted back into the kitchen, grabbing a bag full of extra lyre strings as she went. She saw Lyra in the kitchen, staring at the inside of the vase on the table. Bon Bon entered the kitchen, placing the bag of lyre strings on the kitchen table. She looked at Lyra, who returned the stare. "You'd never guess, but Rainbow Dash just told me there's a changeling on the loose!"
PrologueDesolate wasteland for miles. This is what the changelings called home. Every day was the same routine: go out, feed on some love, and bring it back for the queen. After the failed attempt at taking over Canterlot, the changelings had a harder time entering any city in Equestria. Everypony was always looking out for changelings. They expected the queen to come back with a new plan, and were on high alert for any changelings that might enter the cities. In the hive, far away from Equestria, the thousands of changelings buzzed around the area, bringing food to the queen or resting. Life under the queen was mundane, and repetitive. It was a normal day, the sun was beating down on the wasteland. All the changelings were accustomed to the harsh conditions of their home. There was almost never any rain, and no plants grew. Should the changelings had needed anything besides love to feed on, they would've had to find a new home. The changelings had claimed the land for themselves, and faced no opposition. Without any need for water or plants, the changelings saw no other forms of life within miles of their home. Every changeling minion was loyal to the queen, all except for one. Whether he had been immune to the mind-control spells the queen was capable of, or was just born differently, he felt the oppression of the queen. Whenever he tried to talk to his fellow changelings about the queen's oppressive nature, they pushed the thoughts away and called him a traitor. Although he knew that Queen Chrysalis was evil, none of the other changelings seemed to mind. Every day, this changeling would dream of leaving the colony, finding a new life beyond the hive. His ability to change into other ponies would cloak him in the cities, and protect him from being recaptured by the Queen Chrysalis. But escaping the colony was a difficult task. He wasn't a collector, so he didn't fly out into Equestria to harvest love and bring it back to the nest. Instead, he stood guard around the nest, tending to the queen's needs when she called upon her minions. Most of the time the changelings spent the day fighting each other for practice, or sleeping on the dusty ground. While the queen plotted, the changelings worked to become stronger and faster. None of the changelings had names, and their similarity in physical appearance made them discerning between them nearly impossible. Leaving the nest would be no problem at all, and nobody would be able to tell if he had left. The changeling knew that escaping the nest would be easy, but he was scared. Scared to leave the life he knew so well and try to fit in somewhere he was hated. Although he hated his current life, the life he would be moving into would be dangerous. This day, with the sun shining brightly and not a gust of wind in the sky, was the perfect opportunity to escape. The changeling found his way through the nest, his blue eyes showing no emotion. Like every other day, the other changelings buzzed through the air, finding different things to do. He flew unnoticed, looking the same as every other changeling in the area. With ease, he slipped out of the nest. He would not be missed. The nest was an unpleasant place, but flying away from it scared the changeling. He had rarely left it, and when he did he hadn't gone farther than a few miles. He wasn't sure where he was going, but as long as it was away from the long, boring days of life in the nest, he was fine with it. Flying through the air was no problem with his trained wings. Hours passed, and the land rolled along underneath the changeling. He could see buildings, which meant that pony civilization was near. Knowing that his true form would not be accepted among the residents, he had to find a pony to take the form of. He landed a good distance away from the town. There was a windmill, a large tree, and plenty of buildings. It was the perfect place to try and start a new life, but he'd need a new identity. A pony that he could take the form of whom the other wouldn't know. That way he wouldn't have to know anything about whoever he took the form of. This wasn't an easy task, as changelings could only morph into what they saw, but that didn't mean that imagination couldn't play a part. All the changeling needed was a template. He was different from the rest, smarter. He needed a form that he could call his own so that there wouldn't be two identical ponies in the same area. He trotted toward the town, looking for any stray pony that may be taking a walk around it. There was no sign of life around him. As he trotted forward, the grass became greener and there were more flowers. He was approaching the town. Still in his menacing form, he needed to find a pony to copy. As he approached the outskirts of the town, he saw ponies trotting around the streets. He hid behind a bush, observing the different forms he could take. There were five ponies trotting through the area together. One of them particularly intrigued him. With a flash of light he took the form of the pony and waited for them to leave the area. All he had to do was not be caught in the same place as the pony he looked like, and he would be able have enough time to combine the different elements of multiple ponies to create his own look. Then his new life would truly begin. He trotted into the town with his new form. All he had to do was ask around and he'd know exactly where he lived, what he was like, and how to act. A sign outside the town made it clear that this was "Ponyville". With his new form, he could live among the townsfolk without ever being discovered. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ There was a knock at the door. "It's open!" yelled Twilight. In walked Rarity, Fluttershy, Rainbow Dash, Applejack, and Pinkie Pie. "Where have you all been?" asked Twilight. They all responded together. "The outskirts of town."
New PlacesNew forms were always a new experience. When a changeling copies the physical appearance of another pony, they also gain their physical prowess. Changeling wings are thin and light, built for quick, agile movement and turns rather than efficient flying. Pegasus wings, however, gave the changeling a new asset. There wasn't any need to transition between pegasus and changeling wings, as the changeling would already be accustomed to flying. However, the changeling's horn would be gone. Changelings also couldn't take the form of something that is larger than themselves. The queen was the only changeling that could take the form of a larger pony, or an alicorn. Any other changeling would have to stick with something their own size, although it did not have to be a pony. When taking on the form of a unicorn, the changeling would lose their wings but gain a different venue of magic. Their short, black horns were only capable of casting a small amount of spells. Most of them involved green magic, the most offensive kind, usually used for explosions on impact. Unicorn horns were capable of a much larger range of spells, and the longer a changeling could stay in the form of a unicorn the more magic they would be able to use. Although it may seem like earth pony forms would be avoided, they were preferred just as much as the other types of ponies. Changelings, when in a new form, could only fight with physical combat as they would lose their familiar magic. Their fangs, hard exoskeleton, and spiked head would be gone, leaving them with little to fight with. Earth ponies were stronger than the rest, making their form more useful for combat. Each new form was a learning experience. Although the mind of the changeling did not change, having a different physical appearance meant adapting to it, and it was no different for this changeling. No names were given to the changelings at birth, so they were always referred to as "you" or "it". The same is true for the lone changeling, finding his way through Ponyville. Everything was so brightly colored in Ponyville, and his new eyes showed the colors fully. Unlike his normal, solid blue eyes, the eyes of a pony could interpret color much better, and his lack of exposure to such color lead to a painful headache. Even though his physical form was that of a pony, his mind still interpreted what his new eyes saw in the same way it would if he was still a changeling. Becoming accustomed to the new eyes would take some time. Each building and pony had their own unique color, and each color struck his mind like a hammer. Each vibrant shade gave off a different feeling that caused the changelings mind to be stimulated in ways that weren't familiar. It wasn't pleasant. The more vibrant the colors were, the more painful it was for his mind. And as the amount of colors his eyes took in increased, he could feel his mind trying to fight them off harder. Each color caused another throb in his small brain. The ground felt different to the changeling. Unlike the hard, outer shell of his former self, the hooves of a pony were softer. Not by too much, but enough to cause a difference in his gait. Usually he would never feel the ground through his exoskeleton, but the hoof felt every step, making each one awkward and hesitant. Each step had to be taken gingerly, or he'd feel as though he was pressing too hard. Although it felt awkward for him, to everypony else his trot looked normal. Within the town of Ponyville, the residents trotted carelessly through the streets. He felt as though all eyes were fixated him, picking him out as "different". Usually ponies would scream at the sighting of a changeling, being cloaked felt relieving. It felt as though a burden had been lifted, that he no longer had to hide from the ponies. He was one of them. Each and every eye was not focused on him, even though each pony he passed he felt the need to look at. Every time somepony would look at him, his heart would skip a beat. His mind would race as he looked for a way to escape, afraid that the pony had seen through his tricks and saw the changeling within. But that never happened. As he trotted through the town, observing all the brightly colored ponies that were so different from the black color of changelings he knew so well, he felt his head being weighed down. Although it was no hefty burden, a mane hung from his head. Unlike the spikes that stuck rigidly out of his skull as a changeling, the mane was flimsy. It added a small amount of tug downwards, causing his head to tilt sideways if he wasn't careful in maintaining balance. The extra weight was just enough to disorientate him, forcing him to readjust the way he held up his head. A mane was something he had never experienced before. Changelings that left the nest often had experience with new forms, but for him the transition added plenty of small changes that created problems. Slowly, his steps became harder, and a clear clopping sound could be heard whenever his hoof hit the ground. Keeping his head tilted for a short while helped him adjust his internal balance, allowing him to cope with the mane. He got a couple odd stares while he trotted through the streets of Ponyvile, his head slightly tilted. In their true form, changelings had short, stiff tails, but the new tail of a pony didn't pose any problem to the changeling. It was simply extra weight that had to be dragged along. Each step became more mechanical, and keeping his head straight required little to no effort. He felt vulnerable without his hard outer skin, but there was nothing he could do to fix that. Anything that brushed up against him felt different. He sensed when something touched him. There was nothing to protect him from outside forces, everything he felt, he felt wholly. The sun was hot. His fleshy skin absorbed every ray and the heat seeped into his body, creating warmth. It was uncomfortable, but bearable. The town was all foreign to the changeling. It wasn't desolate and empty, but busy and populated. Crowds of ponies trotted up and down the streets, and he trotted among them. There was no duty to the queen, or days spent wallowing in the emptiness of the nest. Here, there was plenty to do and see, even if it hurt his eyes. Although, he still felt as though he was in the nest. He was just another pony among many others, but he was separated. His new form had color and uniqueness, something that made him different from the other ponies. All changelings looked the same, but as a pony he was an individual. He could have a name, and nopony would confuse him with another one. There was a sense of power that he gained, that he was himself finally. He wasn't just another "minion". He was- "Hello there!" He stopped. His thought process completely froze and so did his legs. He felt something on his forehead but he didn't know what it was. The colors that surrounded him were ignored, and his eyes focused only on the stallion that stood before him. He didn't know what to do. A voice in his head was screaming at him to run, that the stallion knew who he really was. "I haven't seen you in a while! How've you been?" asked the stallion. The changeling's eyes were wide open. There was no escaping now. He swallowed the saliva that had collected in his mouth and looked to find his voice. With a new body came a new set of chords to pluck when it came time to speak, and learning how to use them was difficult. Within his body he searched for the vocal chords and with great delicacy, spoke. Changelings didn't have voices, but were educated enough to know the language. It was the only way they could understand their queen. With his new set of vocal chords, he let out a coarse noise. Voices were a tricky thing. The stallion looked at him quizzically. "Something wrong?" The changeling shook his head, and continued to search for the voice that his new form gave him. Changelings never needed to use their voices to speak, and finding out how to form words was difficult enough. Time spent around the queen had given him enough time to see what speaking looked like, and how to do it. He opened his mouth. "I'm fine." He did it, the words had come out. His throat felt every breath leave and form familiar sounds. He had found the vocal chords, and manipulating them was as simple as controlling how the sounds exited the mouth. "Well that's great to hear. Do you remember who I am?" The stallion smiled, expecting an affirmative reply. "No." The stallion's smile fell, and he stared into the eyes of the pony. "Really? You don't remember me. I thought you'd know me." The stallion turned his head, giving another view of himself for the pony to see. He was sure that this pony knew him. "No." "Well... You must be the wrong pony, I'm terribly sorry. What's your name?" The changeling felt as though an arrow had been shot into his heart. A name? Changelings didn't have names, and they had no idea what a proper name was. He could feel something wet and warm rolling down his forehead. Although he didn't know what it was, he couldn't bring himself to wipe it off. This small bead of water rolled off his face and onto the ground as the changeling stared into the eyes of the stallion, speechless. "Is it really that hot out?" The stallion looked up towards the sun and back at the sweating pony. The changeling thought of all the names he knew. Chrysalis was the only finding. That was the single name that he had heard, but it was a name unique to the queen. Calling himself Chrysalis would be suicide. There were no other options. He looked around, houses and market stands surrounding him. There was nothing to help him. A voice from behind called out a word unknown to the changeling, and then again. A pony approached the changeling from behind, continuing to say the odd word. "We have to go," said the pony. Without saying goodbye to the stallion, the changeling was whisked away by the pony that had called out the odd word. It sounded like a name. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Twilight waited patiently in the central square. Ponies trotted by, on some sort of arbitrary errand, or sat around to watch the blue sky, or bought things from the multiple markets. From the street nearby trotted in Applejack, who was holding a basket in her mouth, and Rainbow Dash. Twilight smiled at them and waved, her hoof sticking up over the crowd of ponies. Applejack nudged Rainbow, who was eyeing some fresh apples on a nearby stand, and the two made their way towards Twilight. Within a few minutes, Rarity and Pinkie Pie stood outside the sea of ponies, looking for their friends. A purple hoof stuck out over the crowd, and they trotted over. They made idle chatter with their companions as they waited for Fluttershy. Through the groups of ponies, Fluttershy found her way to her friends, and the six of them shared a greeting. The weather was perfect for a picnic, and with Twilight being ahead of her schedule and everypony else being free that day, there was no way the opportunity would be passed up. "Applejack, did you bring the apples?" asked Twilight. "You betcha!" "And Rarity, did you bring the blanket?" Rarity stared blankly at Twilight. "What blanket?" "The blanket, the one I asked you to bring! We can't have a picnic without a blanket, it says so in my book!" Her yelling elicited no more than a blank stare from Rarity. "It must have slipped my mind." Twilight sighed. "I guess I'll just go grab a blanket from the library, then." Twilight turned to trot off, and as she did she noticed Pinkie Pie. "Is everything alright, Pinkie?" Pinkie rubbed her forehead with a hoof. "I'm fine."
FoodAfter waiting with the other ponies for the purple unicorn to get her blanket, the changeling followed them through the crowds of Ponyville central and towards the fields beyond the town. He didn't know where they were taking him, or what exactly his role was in the group, but he knew that he had taken the place of somepony in the group. There was no way for him to figure out what the pony he had taken the form of acted like, so he decided it would be best to not say anything. It was a risk, of course. Should the pony he was be talkative he would be found out. The option of changing into a different pony was still viable, but that would require him to be able to provide an explanation for the disappearance of the pony he currently was. As he followed the ponies out of the town, the buildings gave way to an open field. There was grass covering the ground and trees stuck like pillars from the ground. It was nothing like the desolate landscape of the nest. Everything was bright and colorful, but the changeling's eyes were still adjusting and the colors hurt. In front of the group was a unicorn, leading the group out into the field. The changeling and the four other ponies followed close behind. Inside the field wasn't empty, there were other ponies that had the same idea. Baskets and blankets covered the area and around them sat ponies that were eating or chatting or just enjoying the weather. Some younger ponies ran around in the open field, enjoying the warmth of the sun. The picnics generally were held under the shade of a tree. The changeling continued to follow the ponies, contemplating running off. Surely the pony he copied would find her friends. The consequences would have to be dealt with later, but engaging in a picnic was asking to be found out. All around him ponies were eating daisy sandwiches or oats or grass, and it didn't take long to figure out that a picnic meant eating food. The changeling didn't know exactly what was going on, but if eating regular food was involved there was no way he'd be able to stay undercover. Changelings fed on love, and love alone. Any other forms of food were inedible to changelings. Love wasn't attained like normal food. It wasn't a tangible source of nourishment, and its abstractness made it possible to feed without being noticed. Although love couldn't be measured, and didn't have a taste, whenever a changeling felt love they would absorb it. It would be silently absorbed, digested by the changeling through a series of odd-looking organs, and transformed into an actual food source. Changelings fed on magic, and love was their fuel. The products of digested love accounted for the changelings ability to perform magic. Their green magic was fueled by the love they obtained. The digested love also made a greenish goo as a waste product. Changelings had learned how to use it more effectively by using it as an adhesive. The queen didn't just make the adhesive, but also had the ability to create a chrysalis, earning the name 'Queen Chrysalis'. Inside the field now, the ponies looked for a spot to settle down in. Within moments the picnic would begin, and finding a way out of eating food would be near impossible for the changeling. Lying would easy, simply saying that he wasn't hungry would do the trick, but he had no idea what personality he was supposed to use. Although he had adopted the vocal chords of the pony he copied, personality was something that had to be replicated on its own. Anything that deviated from the original pony's personality, and there would have to be an explanation. Any holes in the explanation, and there would be suspicion. Any suspicion, and the changeling would be figured out. There was no middle option, it was either stay for the picnic and speak one word sentences the entire time, or run off and transform into another pony before they could catch him. Both options were beyond risky, but there was no compromise. Small beads of sweat formed on the changelings brow, a concept foreign to him. As a changeling, the outer shell would prevent anything like sweat to be excreted from the body. Being nervous or anxious as a changeling led to little or no physical changes. Without pupils to dilate and shift around his formerly blue eye, the changeling was unaware of the clear signs he was showing. Sweat and pupils were new concepts to him. When anxiety got the better of him before, he simply locked his knees into place to avoid shaking and there would be no signs. A slight breeze that swept over the field cooled off the changeling, but he continued to sweat. It wasn't the sun that was causing it at all. The other ponies seemed relieved by the wind, but the changeling found nothing in it. Trotting through the field the group of ponies stopped abruptly. The changeling had been too busy worrying about whether he should run or stay to realize they had stopped, and almost bumped into the pony in front of him. One of the ponies lai out a blanket, and with a unanimous decree that all of them were 'starving', they sat down on it and opened the basket. The changeling's eyes widened at the word 'starving'. He had been starved once or twice before, and it was awful. Without any love for days he had to work, and just before he felt like collapsing he received some nourishment. The pain was unbelievable back then, so he could only imagine what the group of ponies were feeling even though they were all smiling. As the other ponies took a seat, he was faced with the decision. He had to make it now or he would just be standing there, and that would be considered peculiar behavior. Neither choice was better than the other, and each one had its own risks, but the decision had to be made. Inside his head he imagined the two decisions on a wheel, and he spun it. One half was running away, and the other sitting down and staying. As the imaginary wheel spun in his head, he could feel little beads of sweat dripping off of his face. The sun was hot, and nervousness only added to it. All the ponies were looking at him now, and all at once the wheel stopped in his head. The decision was made. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ After Twilight had retrieved a blanket from her house, the ponies made their way to the field outside of Ponyville. It was a perfect day for a picnic, and obviously everypony else agreed. Blankets and picnic baskets littered the field and ponies sat around eating their lunches. Twilight and Applejack looked around for a spot to place the blanket while the others followed. Someplace that wasn't too far from the shade just in case it got too hot. "It is so hot out." Fluttershy wiped a bead of sweat from her brow. "It's hot out but just wait, the breeze will cool us down," replied Twilight, who wiped her own forehead to remove any sweat. Sure enough, a cool breeze brushed over the field, counteracting the warmth of the sun. Within a minute they had found the perfect spot. Should it become too hot, the picnic could be easily moved to the shade. Twilight stopped trotting and the others followed suit. She spread the blanket out on the ground and Applejack placed the basket on it. "I'm starved!" exclaimed Twilight. The others agreed with Twilight and found a place on the blanket. Applejack took food out of the basket and placed it in the center as the ponies found their spots. Twilight looked behind her and saw Pinkie Pie standing still by the edge of the blanket. "Pinkie, are you okay?" Pinkie didn't respond, it was if she didn't even hear Twilight. She stood still and let sweat drip off of her face. "Is it really that hot out?" asked Twilight. Pinkie's eyes stared straight ahead. Twilight waved a hoof in front of her face, and as if that was the trigger, Pinkie sprung into action. She turned quickly and galloped away from the picnic blanket. "Pinkie!" Twilight broke into a gallop and chased after her. As her friend, Twilight was set on figuring out what was wrong with Pinkie. The other ponies saw Twilight and Pinkie run off, and within a few seconds they realized what had just happened. Rainbow Dash spread her wings and with a powerful flap was already speeding towards Twilight and Pinkie. Applejack did the same, picking herself off the blanked and galloping after them. She managed to knock over the basket while getting up, spilling the remaining contents onto the blanket. Fluttershy sat on the blanket, too shocked from what was going on to go with the others, and Rarity just didn't want to gallop and get sweaty. Pinkie Pie galloped through the field, her flimsy mane caught in the wind. Twilight was close behind her, and Rainbow Dash was gaining through the air. Her ability to fly gave her an advantage over the grounded ponies. She was able to fly faster than they could gallop, and was gaining on Twilight. Pinkie looked over her shoulder and saw that Rainbow Dash was about to pass over Twilight. Soon she would be upon her. Applejack was also gaining on Twilight, her strong legs allowing her to gallop faster. Pinkie tried to move faster but she was already galloping as fast as she could and Rainbow Dash wasn't slowing down. Being able to fly gave her too much of an advantage in speed. "Pinkie, where are you going?" yelled Twilight. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ All at once, the changeling tore into a gallop. He turned away from the group of ponies and pushed hard on the grass. He wasn't sure where he was going, but anywhere away from the picnic was fine. There was some yelling behind him and he turned to see that three of the ponies were in hot pursuit, one of them closer than the others. With a snort, he pulled himself into overdrive and galloped a little faster, attempting to get far away from the ponies so he could transform into somepony else. What had once been a light breeze was now a strong gust blowing by his face. He was galloping at max speed, but when he turned to look behind himself a pegasus was gaining quickly. Flying was faster than galloping, the changeling knew this, but his pony form didn't have any wings. He looked behind him once more and saw that the pegasus was about to reach him. With another snort he tried to push himself even faster, but his legs had reached the limit. Within moments the pegasus would catch him... unless... Although it was risky and had 'bad idea' written all over it, the changeling knew there was no other choice. There was no possible excuse he could make at this point as to why he was running away, and there was no chance of going any faster. Unless he could fly. His mind was made up. A small flash of green magic surrounded the changeling, and when it finished it revealed his true form. He felt relieved. After being a pony his horn and wings felt so natural. His thin wings flapped and soon they were making the familiar buzzing noise. Within a moment he was flying in the air, faster than his legs could ever go. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Twilight received no answer to her call. She breathed in quick spurts, and sweat glistened on her face. Galloping in the warmth of the sun was tiring. Applejack was beside Twilight and already passing, and Rainbow Dash had nearly caught up with Pinkie. Soon they would find out what the matter with Pinkie was. Twilight almost gasped, but her heavy breathing didn't allow for one. In an instant, what had once been Pinkie Pie galloping away was now a black figure with thin wings. A changeling! Twilight almost tripped over her own hooves in shock, and she looked over at Applejack who was just as confused. Rainbow Dash's eyes widened and she almost forgot to keep flapping her wings. At first she didn't want to believe it, but her eyes did not deceive her. She was chasing a changeling. Twilight and Applejack stared helplessly as the changing flapped its wings and flew. It was moving too fast for both of the ponies, and they were already tired. Twilight dug her hooves into the ground, bringing her to a halt. Applejack did the same and watched as Rainbow Dash zipped by, still chasing the changeling. The two fliers were almost evenly matched, but Rainbow Dash had a small advantage. The thin wings of the changeling flapped much faster than Rainbow Dash's, but did not provide enough power to move faster. Rainbow Dash and the changeling flew out of the field and straight towards Ponyville. Suddenly the changeling dipped down and flew close to the ground. Without hesitation Rainbow Dash followed, and behind her a streak of rainbow followed. Both of them were going fast, but the Ponyville buildings were coming closer, adding a new element to the chase. The changeling smiled, knowing that this was his specialty. With wings that flapped fast enough to make a faint buzzing noise, the changeling could change directions extremely fast. Rainbow Dash, on the other hand, did not have this ability. The changeling sped up slightly as he entered an alleyway. Rainbow Dash was quick to follow. The tall walls of the buildings confined the flying space, but that was exactly what the changeling wanted. Without warning, he cut into a different alleyway with an almost ninety degree turn. Rainbow Dash tried to make the turn with the same speed, but couldn't flap hard enough to turn her body as fast as the changeling could. By the time she entered the new alleyway, the changeling was already half way down it. She snorted and sped toward him, leaving traces of a rainbow in her wake. Alleyways cut left and right, and each time the changeling would cut into one Rainbow Dash would lose a little ground. But the alleyways were running out. Soon they'd be on a populated street where everypony could see the changeling, and then Rainbow Dash would have him. Windows and trash cans zipped by Rainbow Dash as she pursued the changeling. He was flying directly for the central square. Rainbow Dash smiled and slowed down a little bit. There was no point in going her max speed if he was just going to be caught anyway, but the changeling had other plans. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ With his new wings, the changeling was able to fly again. His wings buzzed and brought him of the ground. Two of the ponies stopped chasing, realizing that it was useless. He smiled, but there was still one left. He would need to throw her off, and the only way to do that was to out-maneuver her, because out-flying her wasn't going to happen. He flew closer to the ground and into an alleyway, knowing that his wings would allow quicker turns. He was right. The pegasus couldn't keep up with his quick turns. He made sure to change alleyways randomly so that she couldn't anticipate it. After a couple turns, the pegasus was losing ground and starting to slow down. But the changeling knew better than to think that he had won. He remembered the populated area that he had been before going to the field, and looking ahead of him the alleyway opened up into the central square. Groups of ponies stood there, and the changeling would be caught immediately. If he changed forms now then the pegasus would know who he was, and if he changed forms later all the other ponies would know who he was. His mind raced as he tried to figure out a solution, but nothing was coming up. There was only one option, and that was to try something crazy. Without thinking about it, he took a hard left, but there was no alleyway there. Instead, there was a window. The changeling smashed through the window, shards of glass flying onto the floor of the room. Luckily, the changeling's hard shell protected from any cuts that the sharp glass would give him. However, the crash did have its repercussions. The changelings head ached from smashing into the glass head-first. His horn had cracked the glass, but his head had smashed it. There was no time to worry about that though. The room was small and cozy, with a table and some chairs in the nearby room. There was a pony in the room, but she was busy working on something. The crash through the window had startled her, but before she could turn around and confront the changeling he had already kicked down the wooden door. Looking out at the crowds of ponies he picked one out at random. There was no time to decide which form would be the best, only time for changing. A flash of green magic consumed the changeling and he took on his new form. As the pony in the house came galloping to see what happened, the changeling darted through the open doorway and into the central square. After getting a safe distance away from the house, he resumed a normal trot and blended in with the crowds. His heart was still racing and he shot a glance back at the house. It had all happened so quickly. The pony in the house stared in disbelief at the window and the door, and as she did so the pegasus that had been chasing the changeling flew through the broken window. The two ponies had a quick conversation, in which the changeling could only assume that the pegasus blamed the damages on him. Of course, the owner of the house didn't believe it and scolded the pegasus. With a smile, the changeling walked further into the crowds. The damages to the window and the door had been taken care of, and the pegasus was diverted. Now all he had to do was lay low and the whole thing would blow over, then he could resume his quest for a normal life. He just hoped he wouldn't meet his duplicate. Looking down at his hooves he saw what color his new form was. It was an interesting color.
Horizontal and Vertical ContraptionsBefore going undercover, becoming somepony else didn't require that the changeling stay keep away from that which they had taken the form of, but staying incognito meant the changeling had to keep a watch out for himself, or at least the pony whose identity he had stolen. Since there were no mirrors lying around, the changeling could only base his look off of the color. Luckily, it seemed unique: a very light aquamarine. As a changeling colors were one of the most important things to discern between, considering that a slight change in the tint of a mane or coat could ruin the whole disguise. Changing from one form to the next not only meant copying physical features, but knowing exactly which colors to use, which meant having an eye for colors. Scanning the area, the changeling confirmed that light aquamarine wasn't a common color among the ponies, being the only one who seemed to have the color. While it made it easier for him to spot his duplicate, he stuck out like a sore hoof in the center of the town, and attention was the last thing he wanted. Ponies bustled to and fro around him, moving along with whatever business they had at whatever speed it took them to get there punctually. Some of them were cantering, and some of them were trotting slowly. More times than not, the cantering ones bumped into the others. Every once in a while a pony or two would bump into the changeling, to which they'd mutter a short apology and move on while the changeling stood trotted on silently. He didn't know who was familiar with his pony form, and speaking with the wrong voice could ruin his disguise. The chatter of ponies flowed through the air, being jumbled up into an incoherent mix on the way and becoming nothing but noise. Sometimes a pony would yelp or call out from across the square, and their words would be audible and clear, but those were the only instances. From the side, the changeling heard a pony calling out to his friend across the center square, his voice elevating over the noise of the others for three short yells, before uniting with his friend and moving along. From behind, the changeling heard one word being repeated over and over again. It didn't sound like any word he was familiar with. Without thinking, the changeling quickened his pace. He didn't have any doubts that the word was a name, and whether it was his name or not didn't matter, it was better to be safe. The shouting came closer, and the voice became louder. It felt as though the voice was following the changeling, and there was no room to take risks. He shifted out of a trot and into a slow canter, avoiding unnecessary attention from moving too fast, but the voice continued to follow. "Lyra!" An open road was only a couple meters away. Within a few seconds the changeling could break into a gallop and find a hiding place. Although he was anxious to reach the road away from the crowds of ponies, he disciplined himself to maintain his slow canter. There was a chance that the shouting pony wasn't looking for the pony he copied, but it was certain that galloping would draw attention. With a few more steps, the changeling exited the arc where the crowd of ponies met the open road. Finally free from the stray eyes of strangers, the changeling took a long step forward, transitioning into a gallop. A hoof fell on his back. His heart skipped a beat, convinced that he had been found out. He secretly reprimanded himself for doing something wrong with the copying, whether it be the cutie mark or the eye color. Those were the two most commonly missed qualities of copied ponies, and as a changeling that was trying to stay incognito wouldn't get very far if he couldn't even get the details right. Realizing that all hope was lost anyway, as running away would only instigate a chase and more attention, he turned to face the owner of the hoof. A cream colored pony stood behind him, panting as she looked up into the eyes of the changeling. Her mouth hung open, ready to speak words but unable to between the gasps of breath. Many of the ponies were staring at her, and rightly so, as she had just galloped through the crowds to catch up to the changeling. Taking a deep breath, the pony finally spoke. "Lyra, I've been looking for you all over! Funny story really. I was cleaning up the living room and I found your little bag of extra strings, so you don't have to go get new ones." Her face broke out into a wide smile, her eyes pleading for gratitude. The changeling stared back at the pony. Her mane was of two different colors, one strand was a dark blue that fell next to her face, beginning and ending in a curl, while the other strand was pink that ended before it could come down. Her tail was almost the same, with a pink strand sandwiched in between two dark blue strands, creating a flowing tail that ended in curls, making it look like a waterfall. The changeling blinked, unsure of what response he was supposed to give, whether it be a nod or a shake of the head. Speaking was off limits, as any change in voice would need an explanation, and any explanation could lead to more explanations. "Well, I found your spare strings so you can come back to the house now. Isn't that great?" This was a question the changeling could answer. Even in the changeling colonies, asking a question that started with "isn't that" usually sought out agreement. Although he had no idea to what strings the pony was referring to, the changeling nodded his head, hoping that this was one of the times that agreement was being sought. "Well, I guess that means we can go back home now. It's almost time for lunch anyway. Anything specific you have in mind?" asked the pony. The changeling shook his head, even though his stomach growled at the word "lunch". It had been a while since he had had any love to feed on. "Well then I guess we should just head home then. I'll make us some lunch, apples and some freshly squeezed orange juice." The pony stared at the changeling, waiting for some definite, expected response. All she received was a blank stare. "Lyra, you hate orange juice. Is something wrong with you?" The changeling looked away for a second, small beads of sweat forming on his forehead. It was clear to him that he was this "Lyra" that the pony kept speaking of. He considered galloping away, unable to answer the question. She obviously expected a verbal answer, and a shake of the head wouldn't do anymore. Before he could decide whether to gallop away or stand still with a nervous look in his eyes, the cream-colored pony spoke. "Are you sick? Is that why you aren't saying anything?" Had he lacked any more self-discipline, the changeling would have let out a sigh of relief. He promptly nodded his head, knowing that she would explain the rest for herself. "Oh, I see. You've come down with a bad case of maryngitis, haven't you? That's alright, I know just the drink that will help cure you. Come on, let's go home." Without another word, the pony turned and trotted back into the crowds of ponies, the changeling following her. They trotted for a short while, coming out on the other side of the central square and going down a road. After traveling down the road for a minute or so, the pony stopped in front of a house and turned toward it. It looked like every other house on the street: a pale, yellow, timber frame with a thatched roof and an overhanging top floor. The changeling, or his new form "Lyra", trotted into the home behind the pony. Inside was something that the changeling had never seen before, a living room. A long, flat, colorful blanket covered the floor, small bristles protruding from it to make it soft. Patterns were drawn on the blanket, and it took up nearly the all of the room's floor. Nearby was a structure with two flat pieces of carved wood attached to each other in ninety-degree angles so that one went vertically upward and one came horizontally outward. The whole structure was supported by four straight legs. There were multiple contraptions that mirrored that one throughout the entire room, and as the changeling looked around he saw paintings hanging from the wall and vases placed on structures that were like the other ones, but lacked the vertical board. They were simply a board placed on top of four wooden legs. Most of it was new to the changeling, having lived his entire life within the confines of the desolate wasteland he used to call home, rarely getting away from it. Before he had a chance to observe everything, the pony led him into another room, with a horizontal board contraption in the center and multiple vertical board contraptions surrounding it. There was a small plant resting in the middle of the horizontal board contraption, which seemed to be made exclusively for setting things on. "Have a seat in one of the chairs, I'll prepare you something special to help clear your throat up." The changeling looked at one of the vertically backed wooden constructions, labeling them as a "chair". He trotted over to one, setting himself comfortably on the chair and looking around at the room. There were a couple boxes that were connected to the roof, all of them with a small board attached to their outsides and a small handle attached to that. Looking behind himself, the changeling spotted a picture. It was of the pony whose identity he had stolen, and the pony that moved around the room finding different ingredients and wooden tools, occasionally pulling a box out of the wooden structure that lined the wall of the room. Underneath the photo were the words "Lyra and Bon Bon". From what he had collected, the changeling assumed that he was playing the role of "Lyra", and that the pony who had swept him off the streets was "Bon Bon". Looking at his pony form in the picture, he noticed his mane cut and color, marking them off as things to look for when avoiding his duplicate. However, the picture was taken behind the ponies as they stared into the sunset, leaving the front of his form a mystery. "Can you take the plant off of the table and put it by the window? It hasn't seen sunlight for a long time." One word stood out among the others to the changeling. "Table" was new, and since the plant was on the horizontal board with legs, it seemed obvious that it was called a "table". The changeling removed the plant from the table and trotted over to a nearby window. Placing the plant on the window sill, he heard Bon Bon's voice again. "And could you grab a vase from the living room and put it on the table as a centerpiece, and pick one of the prettier ones, the table needs to look nice." With each sentence spoken, the changeling's vocabulary grew. He trotted into the room he had come from, mentally labeling it as the "living room". Looking at all the vases, he could not decide what a "pretty one" was. There was nothing aesthetically pleasing to him about any of them. He picked the most colorful one, grabbing it in his mouth and retreating back into the room where Bon Bon was. He placed the vase on the table, pushing it into the center with his nose while Bon Bon giggled. "Decided that you're too good for magic now, have we?" The changeling lifted a hoof and felt the top of his head, and sure enough there was a horn protruding from it. Wondering how he hadn't figured it out earlier, the changeling tested his unicorn horn, lifting up stray objects from his seat at the table while Bon Bon slaved away with her concoction. A horn was not as noticeable as he thought, and having previously been an earth pony he wasn't readily using magic. The picture had been of no help either, and there were no indicators that would specifically point out the horn to him. However, a unicorn horn was a valuable asset, allowing him to perform spells that he couldn't do as a changeling. As he was levitating the objects, he noticed a small device that sat on a table, but not a normal table, one that connected with the wall and ran along the wall for a short distance. Ingredients covered the long table more and more as Bon Bon continued her work. The device was small and a light brown, with a delicately carved wooden shape that was curved at the bottom and slowly indented until it reached the top, where it curled into a small ball. Connecting the two sides of the device was a small bar, creating an empty space inside the wooden structure. Thin, silver strings attached to the small bar and to the other end of the device. However, there seemed to be more space carved than was needed for the strings, as a slice of space to the side of the device was completely empty, as if there was supposed to be another string there. Levitating the small instrument into the air, the changeling turned it around and around, observing it from all sides. What it was supposed to do was a complete mystery to him. "Alright, it's finished!" Bon Bon turned to the table and set a glass cup in front of the changeling, causing him to quickly drop the device out of the air. He looked at the drink that had been placed in front of him. It was an opaque, greenish color. The changeling stared at the cup for a few seconds, observing small beads of water forming on the cold glass. "It's a family recipe, gets rid of maryngitis faster than you can imagine. Go on, try it, don't let the color discourage you," said Bon Bon, pushing the glass cup closer to the changeling. Staring at the drink, the changeling felt his heart rate speed up and his forehead mimic the glass of the cup, slowly forming beads of water. Realizing that he had no other choice but to drink it or get rid of it, the changeling took a chance. Dramatically pointing behind Bon Bon with his mouth wide open, the changeling widened his eyes. Bon Bon turned around, looking for whatever had caused the changeling to act as he did. Without thinking, the changeling lifted the cup into the air, poured all of the liquid into the vase on the table, and brought the cup to his lips, pretending to finish the drink. As Bon Bon turned back around, realizing that nothing had happened and nothing was behind her, she looked at the changeling skeptically, the empty cup levitating close to his lips "Did you just drink all that?" she asked, only to be answered by another nod of the head. She sighed and took the cup from the changeling. Knowing that she'd eventually find the drink in the vase, the changeling waited for her to turn completely around before levitating the vase over to the flowers, dumping the drink into the soil of the plant, and placing the vase back onto the table. He watched as Bon Bon went to prepare more food. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Bon Bon wasn't the best chef, but she wasn't the worst either. Most of her recipes were "family recipes", and usually that meant something her grandma had scribbled down on a piece of paper many years ago. Her grandma had been a terrific chef, especially of pastries and sweets, but her writing was just about illegible. Following the recipes meant risking misreading an ingredient and creating an awful dish. Bon Bon usually stuck to the more common, easier foods to make, unless it was a candy. Her cutie mark didn't lie, and anything sweet was her specialty, but sweets were not lunch food. Taking two slices of bread, she pressed some fresh daises onto one slice and put the other slice on top of it, creating the simplest, yet most delicious, lunchtime meal of all time. She made four sandwiches, placing them onto a plate and carrying them over to the table where Lyra sat quietly, her voice still suffering from maryngitis. Bon Bon assumed that her drink had no effect, and was made incorrectly. She set the plate on the table, taking one sandwich off of it and pushing the rest toward Lyra, who eyed them skeptically. Bon Bon took a bite out of her sandwich, staring at Lyra while she levitated a sandwich into the air and brought it near her face. Although Bon Bon knew Lyra could be odd at times, she was reaching new heights as she carefully examined the sandwich. Going in for another bite, Bon Bon closed her eyes and savored the delicious flavors of fresh daisies. Upon opening them, she looked at Lyra. The sandwich was gone. "Did you just eat that entire sandwich that fast?" asked Bon Bon. Lyra nodded, like she had been doing the entire time. Although Bon Bon knew she couldn't help it, the silent answers were slowly getting on her nerves. "You must be hungry," said Bon Bon, taking another bite out of her own sandwich. For the rest of the lunch, Lyra sat quietly in her seat, refusing to eat any more sandwiches. After a few minutes, Bon Bon had eaten the other two sandwiches while Lyra watched, neither of them saying a word. Her eyes occasionally drifting off and looking somewhere else before positioning themselves back where they had been before. At the end of the meal, when the plate was clean, Lyra's horn glowed, and she levitated her lyre into the air. Bon Bon watched as she played around with it in the air, probably checking to see how she was going to fix the broken string. Earlier that day one of the strings had snapped, and the replacements that Lyra kept in a small bag were nowhere to be found. They were extremely hard to find and purchase, but Bon Bon found them just as Lyra left in search of some new ones, saving her from a long trip around the area and maybe even other parts of Equestria to find spare lyre strings. "So, are you going to fix it?" asked Bon Bon after watching Lyra play around with the lyre for a minute. Lyra didn't respond, but put the lyre back onto the counter. "Here, I'll go get your little bag of strings," said Bon Bon, getting out of her chair and trotting into the living room. As she entered the room, there was a knock at the door. Bon Bon opened the door and had a brief chat with the pony that had knocked. Lyra strained her neck to see who Bon Bon was talking to, but couldn't see anything past Bon Bon's tail. After a couple seconds of chatter, the door shut and Bon Bon trotted back into the kitchen, grabbing a bag full of extra lyre strings as she went. She saw Lyra in the kitchen, staring at the inside of the vase on the table. Bon Bon entered the kitchen, placing the bag of lyre strings on the kitchen table. She looked at Lyra, who returned the stare. "You'd never guess, but Rainbow Dash just told me there's a changeling on the loose!"
