AGC

Fluttershy’s conscience nipped at her.

She knew what was happening, though she couldn’t stop it. Not that she wanted to, no. That would make far too many ponies unhappy. She looked despondently out of the window. Against the backdrop of night, Ponyville’s various lights glowed like the moon.

Something had upset the balance.  Every few weeks, somepony from town would come by her house in the middle of the night, and wander off into the forest, never to be seen again. The townsfoalk suspected her, of course: the strange, reclusive mare living alone on the edge of the forest was the last pony to have seen any of the disappearances. But they knew her: Fluttershy was the kind one, always looking out for everypony. She wouldn’t dream of hurting anypony. Unless they asked her to, and they were really nice, and—

Hoofsteps outside caught her attention. She was used to late-night visitors by now, but nonetheless apprehensive as she approached the door.

Outside stood a chalk-colored pony with light pink hair.

“Can… Can I help you?”

Redheart jumped.

“No... No thank, I’m just out for a walk.” she stammered.

Fluttershy didn’t want it to happen again. Assertive.

“No, I insist. Come inside.” She opened the door.

Redheart entered as Fluttershy began preparing tea.

“You must be tired after walking all the way out here.”

“Not really. It’s very relaxing, actually.”

“What are you running away from?”

This caught the mare off guard.

“Wh-What do you mean?”

Fluttershy smiled. “Nopony comes this far without a secret. So tell me, what are you running away from?”

“I’m not entirely sure what happened...” she said after a pause, shaking her head. “…they asked me to— and I— and it didn’t work, and then they screamed. I didn’t mean to, they just wouldn’t stop squirming!”

Fluttershy kept a straight face. Though not entirely a façade, her kind demeanor had grown callous under the stress of the disappearances.

“You killed somepony?” she asked calmly.

The nurse recoiled. “I... well, no, but—”

“Don’t worry about it,” said Fluttershy. “I’m sure you did all that you could. So why did you run away?”

She stared blankly. “I... I had to get away from there. I’m not wanted there anymore.”

“But why here? Why not run off to somepony’s farm or catch a ride to Canterlot? Don’t worry, you can tell me.”

The last words slipped effortlessly through the nurse’s will, yielding to Fluttershy the answers she wanted.

“I... felt drawn. I knew I had to leave, and this seemed like the only viable choice: somewhere nopony would find me, where I could just think all of my troubles aw—”

“You know that’s not true. It’s too dangerous out there for just a leisurely stroll; haven’t you heard of all the ponies disappearing there recently?”

“I didn’t think about that... I just wanted to be gone.”

“Gone. Exactly. A sad pony whom nopony else will miss goes into the forest one night, and never comes back out: what are they supposed to think?”

Redheart’s eyes widened.

“No. Why would— no, you’re a mad pony! What have you done to all those poor—”

Fluttershy shushed her.  “I know as much what’s going on as you do.” she lied. “But that forest is definitely not safe.”

“But... where should I go, then?”

“You can stay here if you need to. I won’t make you go back to the village, but I can’t let you go into that forest.”

Fluttershy was more relieved than the nurse. She’d stopped it. Saved one.

Fluttershy was unable to sleep. Her morals had forced her to stop it, but… could she be saved? Had she intervened in time?

After the sun came up, an eternity later, she checked on her guest.

While Fluttershy had been fretting through the night, Redheart had snuck out. A note had been left on the counter:

    “I’m sorry, but it calls to me. I have to answer it. It needs me.” — RH

Fluttershy sighed in defeat. Every mare that had gone missing in the past months felt like a personal loss to her. She’d been given a job, and she had failed, again and again.

Tired and depressed, she retreated back to bed.

Fluttershy was once again submerged in the white.

She stood dauntlessly: she knew that her previous transgression would not go unnoticed.

And then the halcyon serpent was upon her.

And why are you here, I wonder?

“I... I couldn’t stand to let another pony go missing like that. I know what you’re doing.”

Have you learned nothing? With their end, something else - something much greater must come to be, no?

“But of course... but, these are my friends, and they—”

No. You were given a second chance, but with that there are rules you must follow. Friends are a luxury for mortals. You are beyond such banalities.

Fluttershy sighed. He was right, but...

Don’t fail us again.

The forest wept.

The quite one had once again been lost. She helped it, nurtured it, when everybody else shunned it as nature’s only accident: a hostile environment in which all of the creatures upon one another prey, slaying each other that they may further survive.

Unnatural, it was called: barbaric, cruel. It was viewed as a blight of savagery amongst the more cultured peoples: a place where society and manner were forgotten, leaving only the better-off-forgotten instinctual aspect of nature to fend for itself.

The forest was not entirely alone, though. Over the years, many ponies had devoted their lives to nurturing the wood, shunning their society to live among the ‘savage’ wild.

But, alas, ponies, are not suited for such lives. These caretakers always meet their fate within the forest’s dense bushes and permeating fog, often unbeknownst to the world outside.

And every time, the forest weeps: weeps for its loss, for the very nature of mortality.

All which comes to an end is begot anew, and all which comes to be must one day fall.

Fluttershy stood again in the white void, now looking at the three gods which governed her life and everypony else’s.

The infidel...

Infidel?

Traitor.

She knew all three spoke, but could not tell which was which: as a collective, their imperfections cancelled out, and they spoke in identical tones and registers. The only identifying features of each were the ideas held in their comments.

To punish her?

    Punishment.

        Reprimand.

    Punishment.

Punishment seems wise.

        Compromise. A valuable asset: not worth losing.

Indeed. Compromise.

    Compromise is not advised: she has betrayed in the past.

Past betrayal does not imply future transgressions.

        The infidel must be given another chance.

PEGASUS.

One of the voices shouted, getting her attention. “Y-yes, my liege?”

Thou shalt be once more given flesh.

    Another body with which to serve.

        A second chance.

“Th… thank you! I won’t fail this time!”

Patience;

We are not yet done with thee.

There is more to be done.

“And… wh-what would that be?”

Thou art no longer the same pony.

Thou canst not be a dead horse.

Another thee must be born.

“Wh… why?”

The pony ‘Fluttershy’ is no more.

    Thine old self is expired.

        Another pony thou must become.

“But… I don’t want—”

Before she could voice protest, Fluttershy felt something draining from her. She looked down and saw her own pale yellows and pinks seeping off into the void. At the same time, her mind was opened to who she really was: she saw herself, her past selves, future selves, alternate selves, and anti-selves, all in her mind’s eye watching her die.

Her view focused on one iteration in particular: pale white coat, dark black mane, and obviously mentally scarred. Laconia, she knew.

As she gazed upon the horde of Doppelgängern within her own mind, and allowed them to gaze back, fear overtook her. She was to be no more. Was to die.

Thou art at thine end.

    Submit to thy fate, Pegasus.

        Allow another form to come into being.

“I… I can’t!” she screamed.

Resistest thou us?

    She resists.

        She has doubts.

“I... I can’t be somepony else. I can’t allow myself to be violat—”

Before she could argue any further, a horrible surge passed through her mind. Just like that, the myriad look-alike ponies were gone, and she was alone in her mind with this ‘Laconia’.

Thou willst conform.

    Thou hast no choice.

In Fluttershy’s mind, Laconia stared at her with fear.

“Hello.” she managed, shy even to a figment of her own imagination.

“H-hello…” the apparition responded. “Do you know what this is about?”

“Yes, I’m afraid. I’m so very sorry, Laconia.” Fluttershy said. “I don’t want to do this.”

“Do what?” she asked, now terrified.

Become one with the next form.

    Consume her.

        Embrace her being.

Fluttershy shook her head, shattering the noumenon.

“Why do I have to do this?!” she screamed, confronting the gods.

She challenges us.

    She is threatening us.

        She is confused.

“You’re buckin’ right I’m confused. Why do I have to kill an innocent pony - myself, at that - just to continue your twisted little glue factory?!”

She questions the cause.

    She is clouded by morality.

        She does not understand our cause.

    Her morality clouds her judgement.

Morality blinds her the truth of the cause.

        Her morality overpowers our truth.

    The morality is the danger.

The pegasus’ confusion endangers the cause.

    Alter her.

        Educate her.

Alteration provides higher chance of success.

        She may be damaged in the process.

Either way, there is risk.

    She will be altered, then.

“Oh, thank you. I promise I—”

She heard a squeak from within her head, and stopped mid-praise.

“But… what of Laconia? She can’t just stay in my mind forever.”

An acceptable loss.

    She can, in fact, stay in thy mind forever.

        Thou canst become her mentor, and she serve in place of thee.

Living arbiters cannot be replaced.

They can take one another’s place, and work as apprentice and master incumbent.

    This has never been done before.

        It cannot fail.

They are effectively one and the same.

No risk would be taken in doing so, only a more experienced arbiter.

Very well. She is also spared.

    She is to replace thee.

        Thou art to serve as her mentor.

Fluttershy frowned. “So… we don’t get to go home?” Within her mind, Laconia mirrored the frown.

Your roles are to be reversed: thy world now hers, and her mind to be thy new world. Thou willst take her as an apprentice, and teach her the way of Order.

“No… I don’t want this.” Fluttershy said. “I can change, I can work better, I can—”

Silence. Thou art to be her mentor, and she thy student.

    Rejoice that we have chosen to spare thee.

        Thou canst now more influential than ever before be.

“But… that’s not true. I hold no power without a name.”

        Thou hast a name. Thou art ‘Lac’—

“No. I am not. Take my accomplishments, my life, my friends, but leave me my name.”

    Enough.

Suddenly, her mind was overcome with an inside-out sensation. She watched herself pull back into the recesses of her own psyche, and watched the other pony come forth and inhabit her body. For a brief but all-too-long instant, the two consciousnesses overlapped, and their thoughts, fears, and memories overflowed into each other’s minds.. And then they were once again seperate

Laconia came to in a familiar house, though this one was… different. As she gained control of the body, grief overwhelmed her. Not only had she just murdered that ‘Flutterfly’ pony, but she had lost her own life as well, now resident—

I’m right here. said a voice within her head.

“Who... who’s there?”

My name’s Fluttershy— used to be Fluttershy. She sounded forlorn. I believe we’ve met.

“So… this is your…?”

Yes, you’re now living in my body. And I’m now living in my own mind. Fair trade, no?

“Look, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to, I couldn’t help it, it ju—”

I don’t really care anymore. You just need to know that this was part of an arrangement, and you’re going to be made to do things you don’t like. I’m here to help you.

“Okay… what do I need to do?”

The forest wept, now. Wept for its most recently fallen curator, the shy pegasus.

She had not died, per se, but once again shed herself the mortal coil. She had abandoned what was once her, endorsing completely new philosophies.

And so the forest wept. Not in mourning, but as a farewell to an old friend. The watchmare which they had stolen from it.

There was yet another, however. The foreign one was closer to the forest than any before her had been.

Zecora felt the forest’s weeping.

An undeniable sense of dread and loss was present

in the forest’s seeping.

It was no mystery as to why:

the death of the pegasus Fluttershy.

She had grown through her own self-doubt corrupt,

and thus saw fit the workings of higher powers to interrupt.

Merciless though the gods may be,

she did not expect them to smite one so kind as she.

And so it came as no surprise,

when, before her very eyes,

somepony who, though her mane was blacker,

coat was white, and eyes were lacquered,

could be nopony else but Fluttershy:

because gods do not know how to die.