The Elements of Surprise (Morpheus) Part 4

Ve walked through the market listening to the rumors.

“Right in the middle of the marketplace…” The shopkeeper’s tone was subdued.

A subdued voice could mean he was calm or concerned or even frightened.

“Can’t believe they used that language with foals around…” A mother’s voice carried from across the street.

More amplitude meant more energy. She could be angry. Ve could see her being angry.

“I thought they were the Elements of Harmony – not the Elements of Disharmony.” Snickers accompanied the stallion’s compliment.

Ve paused a second, trying to parse the meaning behind the words. On some level ve knew it was a simple joke – perhaps an insult – but ve couldn’t understand why it was one of those things.

Ve wanted to snort in frustration.

I liked to snort in frustration.

The hive forsaken filter was making it difficult, and every attempt to lower it brought on waves of panic over what had happened.

Ve knew emotional suppression wasn’t fun. Fun is defined as something that provides mirth or amusement – both of which are emotions. In the same vein, emotional suppression shouldn’t be infuriating.

It may as well have been as far as ve were concerned.

The Archives provided most of the context ve needed to identify other ponies emotions. Ve had access to potentially eons worth of changeling lives and memories. Ve had seen every smile. Ve had heard every tone. Ve had smelled every smell – whether ponies knew they made them or not.

There was little to no physical mannerism ve hadn’t experience over the years, and ve could see all the signs without our emotions clogging us down.

But without being able to taste the emotions in the air ve couldn’t be sure. There was a larger chance for error, and ve couldn’t afford errors if ve had done what ve think ve might have done.

Ve knew I would have found that snare in progress infuriating – if I could feel anything for more than an instant.

That’s why ve wanted to snort, and stamp, and scream, and yell. All of those are perfectly sensible reactions to expect from a mad pony.

Ve weren’t angry though. Ve only knew I would feel angry, and the disguise known as Snow Flurry wouldn’t.

Thus ve continued along with a slightly downcast head. A small sigh would periodically escape our lips, and ve faked the smallest of limps. Every so often ve stopped at one of the stands to pick up the groceries Twilight wanted. Illusory wings opened equally illusory saddle bags, and ve would place our purchase within one of our corbiculae. It was a simple chore, but ve were finally getting a chance to just walk and wander.

Ve didn’t know the market layout. The admittedly outdated scout reports claimed it was first come first serve, so there was a chance it was different every day.

Unfortunately, ve couldn’t enjoy it like ve had wanted to earlier.

Ve stopped at another vendor and purchased another item.

And ve risked lowering the filter again.

The flood of sensations defies accurate description. Walking from deepest darkness into the light of day feels blinding. Emerging from the purest silence into an average crowd will leave ears ringing. Capturing the simple smell of baking bread after living without scent will burn the nose.

Shedding a pure emotional filter brings all of these sensations and more.

The thousands of subtler variances in emotions ve had grown used to ignoring over the years suddenly stand out as bright as day. Everypony felt many of the same emotions with the slightest of differences.

And all those differences screamed, shined, burned, and eroded at me in different ways – struggling to be understood.

Then there was the delayed reaction of our own emotions.

Spicy anger, icy dread, curdling fear, and sharp insecurity – like eating glass or the shattered remains of a mirror – rose within me. It saturated the air around me, and I felt the beginning of a feedback loop.

Thus I raised the filter again.

Ve left it impure this time. The tiniest bit of emotion leaked through, and ve found our sigh was of true relief rather than a simple façade.

It was too much to handle all at once, but small increments could be taken to adjust to the flood of sensation.

Ve lowered the filter a little more with every stop.

And I raised it when I was overwhelmed again.

It was near sunset when I felt well enough to head back to castle. I hadn’t made it to Carousel Boutique, but I needed to get ready for when Twilight got back.

As ve left the market place, ve passed Applejack’s now empty stand. I could feel something was off, but it wasn’t until I lowered the filter one last time that I understood what it was.

The ambient joy from Pinkie was still so thick it could be cut like cake, and her tag – which had been spun with a rare variant of joy ve had once heard as the tinkling of tiny bells – trailed off into the distance.

But there was a jagged hole near the now faint scorch marks on the ground. Not even the fabric-like taste of complacency – the most persistent if dull ambient emotion – was present. Whatever emotion had been there had been ripped out in my hasty attempt to gather that love for the energy I needed to escape without revealing myself.

That was not a good sign.

Sometimes there is no choice but to forcibly take a nibble of love that is not being willingly given, but – like a mosquito drinking blood – damage can be mitigated by forcing the wound to clot. A bite taken in desperation might agitate a relationship. It might make it itch or scratch, and there might be a brief fight, but it should mend over relatively quickly with few side effects.

There may be some backwash from a previous meal, but at most that temporarily expands a pony’s standards of attraction. It would do nothing more harmful than make a pony ogle somepony they hadn’t considered attractive before – and maybe make them feel more experimental than usual.

This was not one of those cases.

This was a worst case scenario.

In my rush to escape and regain control of myself, I hadn’t closed the wound. I couldn’t trace it, but I could taste it. I could finally get the context I needed. There was a small waft of apple pancakes smothered in honey and syrup. It was a comforting homey taste, yet I could taste more to it. In the background was the scent of sweat and leather.

They had definitely moved beyond platonic friendship. Leather was the most primal and energetic form of lust for ponies. It is passion of the highest caliber – although ve had a feeling most ponies would misinterpret such a feeling far more morbidly than they rightfully should.

Just because I tasted leather did not mean leather was used, and I did not need nor want that kind of information.

The honey soaked pancakes were far more important, however. Love is too unique an emotion to naturally remain in an ambient state for long. It quickly decays into its various components – components that are sometimes different from even second to second.

Tasting honey this pure in the air was unnatural.

I hadn’t closed the wound, and every second that passed by that love would continue to bleed out until there was nothing left.

I stomped the ground. “Idiot.”

I finally found the strength to snort.

Relishing in finally being able to vent, I did it again.

“Idiot.”

I found twice wasn’t enough.

“Idiot.”

And then I repeated three more times for good measure.

“Idiot! Idiot! Idiot!”

My chest was heaving, and I was drawing stares from the few remaining ponies in market. I’m pretty sure my voice had dropped a few octaves to its normal pitch. I didn’t care. When Twilight got back negotiations were as good as dead – and so was I – if this wasn’t fixed.

And I couldn’t fix it unless I told Rainbow and Applejack what went wrong.

And I couldn’t do that because Twilight had ordered me not to reveal myself until she was back.

Ve knew there was more than a ninety percent chance the princess would want us to drop the act and fix things if ve could – and there was still at least a fifty percent possibility ve could fix it. It was impossible to act on that knowledge, however, when the princess hadn’t provided us anyway to override her order on the almost nonexistent likelihood ve would need to.

Ve slumped to the ground and stared at the hole. There was always an answer no matter how unlikely. Ve mentally repeated that mantra over and over as ve analyzed our options.

There had to be some loophole to explaining what was wrong without revealing ourself.

Ve were so wrapped up in our thoughts ve didn’t notice the tinkling of bells until our vision turned pink.

“Aww… Here I was about to yell at you for the pinchy knee from earlier, and now my frogs are hopping. I think somepony needs a hug!”

I wasn’t sure what I mumbled in reply. It was muffled by the fluffy pink fog that had swallowed me when the Anomaly had hugged me without warning. Cotton candy clouds swam like molasses over my chitin – seeking to fill me with joy. Every intake of breath condensed the mist into the sweetest of fruit punches that trickled down my throat like ambrosia. A tingling numbness hit my outer extremities, and I panicked.

I almost threw the filter up all the way again, but the moment I thought about doing that her leg twitched and she let go. My vision returned to find her tilting her head while looking at her knee.

“Another pinchy knee? That doesn’t make any sense…” The Pink Menace pouted. “Hugs make everything better…”

I shook my head, and wondered if there had always been two Pinkies. I hiccupped – then giggled. “Oh, I’m feeling much better. Can’t exactly think straight now though… Need to think straight if I’m gonna fix things. Need to fix Rainbow… Or is it Applejack?”
I staggered to the side.

Pinkie caught me, and I barely raised the filter to a manageable level in time – although a full on block wasn’t necessary when I wasn’t being hugged to death.

“Are you all right? Maybe I should get you to a doctor.” Even her voice sent waves of emotion through the air. I had no idea how mother managed to stand close to this mare for an occasion as happy as a wedding.

Nodding my head almost caused me to wobble off my support. “I’m so much better than alright. Your hugs give love poison a run for its money, and that stuff kills. It’s Applejack and Rainbow Dash we need to worry about.”

Her head tilted again, and a slight shudder ran down her spine.

I tripped at the disturbance.

When I was back to shambling on I grimaced and sighed – except it came out as more of another hiccup and a lopsided grin. “Twilight’s gonna kill me if I don’t fix this.”

“Fix what?” Orange creamcicle was a lovely flavor for curiosity.

“I can’t tell you. It’s a secret. Shhhhh-” My rather loud stage whisper was cut off as I threatened to tip over again.

Pinkie caught me again. Her smile seemed a bit more forced, but Pinkie Pie would never force a smile.

The cotton candy clouds were laced with chocolate lightning.

I realized the filter was slipping – which was silly.

Filters don’t normally slip.

I realized that meant I was drunk on joy – which was silly.

Lords couldn’t get drunk on joy.

Our metabolism was too fast for that.

“You are an Enigma, Pinkie Pie.” My latest hiccup produced a shockingly pink bubble. I fumbled the filter back into place again. “You can get me drunk on sheer happiness, and your distrust tastes like chocolate of all things.”

Pinkie froze for a second.

I snorted. “There! You feel that? Milk chocolate turned to dark chocolate. It’s bitter and sweet at the same time. How do you do that?”

Her head slowly twisted to look at me. “So that’s what shivery spine means.”

“What does what mean?” I asked – wondering if the giant gingerbread house we were entering was actually real or if I needed to raise the filter more.

Pinkie looked around conspiratorially before whispering in my ear. “If you can tell what I’m feeling, you must be a changeling.”

I toppled over, gasping to get through the laughter. “Oh, Pinkie. I can’t be a changeling. If I were a changeling, I’d be dead right now.”

“Umm…”

I ignored her lack of response. “I mean, if I was a changeling, and you knew I was a changeling, then you would know the secret Twilight ordered me not to reveal. And if that happened I would be violating an order. And if that happened I would be violating the Contract. Thus I would die. Quod erat demonstrandum.”

I could see what appeared to be half the town jumping out of hiding places. Their faces were frozen in a rictus of horror.

“Surprise…” A single voice ventured.

“Huh…” I had a lovely view of Pinkie’s hooves tapping nervously while I was on the floor.

Her words were as chipper as ever. “I forgot this was why I was bringing you here in the first place.” She shook her head. “Don’t freak everypony. She’s-“

“He.” I interrupted.

She looked at me funny. “Alright, he’s just really drunk right now – drunk enough to want to be called a he. Don’t take anything he says too seriously, and have fun. We’ll have to throw her-“

“His.”

“We’ll have to throw his welcome party later because I’m suddenly thinking she-“

“He.”

“I’m pretty sure he needs medical attention.”

There were a couple of awws and various sighs as Pinkie threw me on her back and trotted out the door, but I could hear the party continuing on even as we left.

“So how drunk did my hug make you? You weren’t acting anything like this before.” Her emotions were a delicious orange chocolate.

I laughed as I watched the upside down world go by – my head dangled over her side. “I told you I can’t be a changeling if you know the secret. And since you know the secret, I must not be a changeling. And if I’m not a changeling, I can’t be drunk on joy. Ergo your hug didn’t make me drunk in the least.”

I paused for a second – tilting my head to the side. “And if I’m not drunk on joy then I am clearly incredibly stupid while sober. I mean, I haven’t had any alcohol today after all.”

Pinkie sighed. “You’re that drunk then? This is why I have a two drink maximum at parties. I guess I’ll just get the full story from Twilight.”

The gentle rocking of Pinkie’s trotting had me sleeping in five minutes.

Honestly, I’m not sure if meeting Twilight’s friends or meeting the diarchs was worse. The diarchs had been terrifying, but we weren’t going to be seeing each other on an almost daily basis.

The Elements were – for all intents and purposes – my wardens. I would need to interact with them on a daily basis.

I hadn’t even met them all yet, and I wasn’t sure I could survive that.

Their emotions were powerful – dangerously so.

Mother had claimed Equestria could provide enough food for everyling, but the sheer level of emotion behind Pinkie and Rainbow Dash had been outright staggering.

Ve had to wonder if she had even been in her right mind during the invasion.