A Balance of Deceit

Prism dived out the way of the creature very ungracefully, attempting a roll and likely injuring his shoulder against the rough cement of the pavement. Maybe not the brightest idea. The creature wrenched its teeth out of the pole and turned back to face him, staring at him through the green haze around its eyes. Or where its eyes would be, anyways.

Not looking back, he bolted towards the furniture store, the creature chasing after him soundlessly, and at any moment Prism could swear it was going to bite him by the leg and drag him away. Slowing down, it made one harsh noise before he flung open the doors.

"Revelatur."

As he burst into the store in panic, Rosequill and Amethyst both turned to look at him. He was about to tell them all that there was a shadow pony outside and that they all needed to hide, but as soon as he turned around, he could see nothing outside but the dented streetlamp and the autumn leaves being blown across the pavement.

Rosequill was simply staring at Prism, masking her emotions perfectly, while Amethyst looked on with a mixture of confusion and surprise.

"Oh, it was just, uh, getting a bit cold outside." he bluffed. Rosequill seemed to relax and went back to printing Amethyst a reciept.

Prism leaned against a table in the store, trying to calm himself down. What in the world was that thing? If it hadn't been for the damaged streetlamp, he'd have sworn it was a hallucination.

"Well, are you going to go outside?" Amethyst was looking at him.

She probably hadn't caught his bluff, but didn't say anything about it. Prism looked outside. It was night now, but the shadow creature wasn't anywhere to be seen.

"...Yeah, sure." He said, trying to keep the hesitation out of his voice. What if was waiting for him? Would it attack Amethyst? Why was Rosequill staring at him like that? That last question confused him, because Rosequill wasn't staring at him, at least not when he looked in her direction.

Amethyst trotted out of the furniture store, Prism following behind. Instead of heading to the left, where the alleyway was, she started by going down the road to the right. Prism got to have another good look at the lamp. He was glad he managed to get out of the way, judging by the huge gashes in the steel. Unlike the other lamps, it wasn't even turning on anymore. Not wanting to dwell on it, he tried ignored it and tried to start a conversation.

"So... I see you have a compass and a quill for your cutie mark. How did you get it?" he asked. Maybe he'd get to know a bit more about the mare.

"I got it when I was stuck underground. I managed to draw a map and find a way out. It took weeks to get out." she replied. Stuck underground? Sheesh. It didn't seem like she wanted to keep talking about it, but she certainly peaked his interest.

"I see you have a... glass triangle. What does it mean?"

Prism realised she was talking about his cutie mark. "Oh, it's called a prism. It can seperate white light into a spectrum of colours." He comtemplated the second question. "I'm actually not really sure what it means. I always figured it meant I was good at optics, because I got it when I built a telescope as a colt, but I'm not really sure why it's a prism."

He wasn't sure if she even understood half of what he was saying, but she just shrugged and said, "Cool."

"Thanks for showing me the way home, by the way. I did a bit of an oops when I planned a route to the post office."

"Oh, it's no problem, but..." She stopped. "Ugh, I'm not usually out this late. It's so dark now." she said. She trotted down the left road, and as the sky got darker, Prism found it ever harder to locate his surroundings. They just kept walking through rows of dense, towering apartments and officebuildings that blotted out the moonlight. Eventually it became so dark that Prism was forced to cast a light spell.

An orb of light emerged from his horn, illuminating the sidewalk and the trees. As soon as he did this, Amethyst groaned.

"We've gone the wrong way."

"What? I thought you said you knew the way!"

"I do, but it's so hard to see anything tonight. We were supposed to go right back at the intersection."

"Well, I have a map of Manehattan, if that's any consolation," he said.

"What? Why didn't you tell me that? We could have saved so much trouble!" She glared at him.

"I didn't think we needed it!" Prism put his hooves up in surrender. She grabbed the map out of his bag and stared at it, scrutinizing it.

"You're not very good at using maps, are you?" she declared, staring at the red marker he'd draw on it. He shrugged. "Anyways, let's get out of this street and back on track." She kept the map in front of her and turned to retrace their steps. Looking around at the apartment buildings and the sidewalk, he could tell that while the buildings might have once been occupied, the area obviously hadn't been lived in for a while. He didn't see any lights, apart from his own.

"You usually come around this area?" he asked.

"Sometimes, usually to get quills from the furniture store."

"Bit wierd how a furniture store sells, well, quills, right?"

"Not really. You'd be surprised how common it is. What were you doing, anyways? I don't usually see many other ponies out here."

"Picking up a package. Spellbook. Actually, the guy at the post office was a bit nuts. Kept trying to tell me about some mythical creature called a Changeling," he explained. Amethyst had the same look as she did when he explained a prism. He presumed she had no idea what it was, either.

They were at the intersection again. Amethyst took the right road, this time. Unlike the other street, this one was very different. It was lined with two-storey houses made of wooden walls and tiled roofs. Some of the lights were on, but the curtains were closed. Some automobiles were parked by the sidewalks. They ended up wandering through neighbourhoods like this for quite some time. Amethyst kept scribbling on his map, although he couldn't see what she was drawing. At some point she face-hooved as she unfolded the second compass-bearing.

Despite the inconviences that came with some of the most poorly-planned roads he'd ever navigated, Amethyst managed to get them to Heartstrings station in little more than an hour. Prism could see his apartment building already.

"Well, here we are. Heartstrings station," she stated.

"I guess this is when you go home?"

"Yep, I suppose."

"Well... can we meet again sometime?" he asked. It'd be good if he could make a new friend, and she seemed a nice mare.

Amethyst blinked.

"Oh... sure, wednesday, here?" she said. "Here's your map back, anyways." He looked down at the map. If his drawing in red marker was bad, the black lines going from street to street, backtracking and looping was an abomination. He winced. How a mapmaker managed to get lost, he'd probably never know.

"Yeah, sure... bye."

"Later."

As soon she left, Prism immediately recounted the day's events, from meeting Cirrus to the post office worker, to the strange creature that tried to attack him, and the odd furniture store. It was quite the interesting evening. He needed to find out more. What was the shadow creature, why did it attack him, and why had nopony seen it before? First thing in the morning; to the city library.

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The dawn sun streamed into Prism's apartment bedroom. He got up groggily to turn off the alarm and get ready. It was Sunday, 14th of  June, the year 503 AN (After Nightmare; After Nightmare Moon's return). It was an almost-typical Sunday morning, in which Prism would turn off the alarm, go back to sleep for half an hour, brush his teeth, shower, get dressed, and go to the city library.

The Third Lunar Library was a positively gargantuous dark marble building close to the center of the city. Its walls and columns were intricately decorated, with over five floors of both ancient and contemporary literature. It wasn't the first time Prism had been here; when he first moved to Manehattan this was one of the first things he saw, though only briefly browsing through the first floor. Despite its large dimensions and ancient history, the library was very well kept inside and outside.

Unlike most libraries, the Third Lunar started with the newest books on the lower levels and as you went up, the books started dating further back in time. Ignoring the below-ground and ground level, which dated 350-and-up AN, he started with level two, around the time the six bearers of the Elements of Harmony began to retire, except Twilight Sparkle, who of course remained a Princess.

First up, mythology. The moment Prism approached this section he knew he was in for a treat. Or rather, a nightmare filled with books thicker than his hoof. The titles didn't seem to help a lot either. Almost all of them went along with specific names like 'On the Everfree Forest's Manticores' or 'A Short Introduction to Discord's Powers' all of which were far longer than what the descriptions seemed to suggest. Seeing as he really didn't know what he was looking for, trying to find the book that described the creature he'd seen the other night was a long and boring task.

After looking through stacks of mythology books, one seemed to catch his eye. 'The Changeling Conundrum' was a somewhat short book. It described the shapeshifting abilities, infilitration tactics, anatomy, and even the social hierarchy of the pony-like race known as 'changelings'. The tome was hidden pretty far into the mythology section, mainly because of the author's name, Zymosis Zodiac. A strange name, he concluded, and rather unfortunate for an author.

The author aside, upon skimming the book through, he noticed several sketches of a common changeling in various magical forms. The first was the typical changeling; black carparace, insectoid wings, holes in limbs. A charged changeling, empowered by the Queen; big, tough, no holes, sharp fangs and a horn. An abdivus Changeling; a changeling seperated from its physical form. Apparently not a lot was known about that variation, but the sketch depicted a creature incredibly similar to the one that he found on 144th street. Green eyes, large jaws, a body made of fine mist, and cast a shadow wherever it went(as no light were to make it through the mist), giving itself the appearance of being made of darkness.

He scanned the rest of the section for books describing changelings and their magical variants, but had little luck on level two or three. Level four and five had some of the oldest books in the library, and had to be preserved in a magical room, but to get in there he'd need a special library card.

Taking a few other books that looked interesting, he sat down and began to read through them.

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It was almost noon when Prism found himself back at the post office. After failing to obtain the information he was looking for, he followed the greylead path Amethyst had drawn on the map to get back to the place he first saw that creature. He hoped the stallion at the post office - who might not have been so crazy after all - would have answers.

The pony working there was different today, unfortunately.

"Is there a package you would like to pick up?"

"Well, actually, I'd like to see your coworker, if he's around. He was here yesterday."

"Coworker? Sir, I don't think there's anypony else operating this office. You must be confused."

"No, he was here yesterday, I swear!"

"If you're not here to pick up a package, sir, you're going to have to leave." the worker told him sternly.

Prism glared at him. "Fine." It didn't add up, though. Something was going on in that postal office, and he was going to find out what it was.

After walking around the building a few times, he eventually noticed a carefully hidden back door, next to the garage door. After tugging it, unfortunately, he found it was locked. He was about to smash it open with his magic, but he paused. Did he really want to break into a building? What if he was caught? Or if there was nothing there?

No. He almost got eaten by a mythical creature the other night, and now the postal worker dissapeared. There was definitely something going on. He smashed the lock and opened the door. While the lock had made a noise when he broke it, he didn't seem to trigger any of the alarms, and the stallion was still at his post. Prism hid behind a shelf. Where could he look? The place was massive. If there was a changeling nest in the building, he'd have tough luck finding the entrance.

Perhaps the hive wasn't in the building, but somewhere outside? Of course. But if the stallion was a changeling, or if the other worker was taken, there'd have to be an entrance in the building.

Prism carefully moved from shelf to shelf silently, trying not to alert the worker/changeling. The only exits from the building seemed to be the garage, the back door he used, and the door at the front. There were a lot of boxes in the post office. Strangely enough, some of them didn't even have names written on them, and others felt empty. After about a minute of Prism's search, the stallion at the front closed the shutters and began to walk down the isles.

Prism tried to drop low, crouching. Hopefully the stallion wouldn't notice him, and he could see wether or not there was, in fact, a way to get to the rest of the changelings. As the worker trotted down through the office, Prism noticed something strange happening to him. His form was... cracking, Like, pieces of his body were beginning to break off. Watching the process was a strange experience. As more and more began to break away, Prism could see the dark material seeping out.

Eventually the changeling made its way to a shelf, stacked with fake boxes. Prism crawled his way behind a shelf opposite to the abdivus changeling and watched from over a wrapped kettle. It took off a box, revealing a hole in the wall. The hole was too small though, it didn't look like the changeling was going to fit, he noticed.

His questions were answered when the changeling just flowed into the wall, like an octupus, and disappeared. That wasn't fair! How was he supposed to fit in there? Looking around, he got up and walked to inspect the wall. The hole was almost the size of his torso, but he didn't see he was going to be able to fit his head and legs in, while still being able to move.

If only he could just flow in like the changeling had...

He looked into the hole. It was pretty deep, and was on a slight downwards slope. He could squeeze into the hole, but move? His limbs would be stuck to him, and he'd end up clogged in the tunnel for the rest of the day, at least until the changeling came back.

An idea came to Prism. What if he didn't need to move his limbs, if he could just slide down? If he oiled the tunnel, it would be easy to slip down to the other side. He looked around the warehouse. This wasn't just a post office, it was a warehouse for shipped goods. It was full of almost every kind of product shipped from all over the world. He didn't like the idea, but he could find the right brand in one of those boxes.

It was lucky every box was labelled, as every single one was nearly identical. He didn't know how long the changeling was going to be down there, because lunch-break would be over soon, and he didn't have a coworker, apparently. He wasn't sure if many ponies got oil-products directly from Zebrica anymore, but one did, because he found a small bottle of what appeared to be lubricant mixed in with various bike parts. He couldn't tell what the brand was, but it would likely do the job.

He then proceeded to tip the box over by accident, spilling metal parts all over the concrete floor. It made a very, very loud crash. He froze. Did the changeling hear that? He ducked, looking at the wall where the entrance was. After hearing nothing for a few minutes, he grabbed the lubricant and began to use it on the tunnel. After the oil had all been used up, he tested the tunnel by putting a pillow in it. No problem, the pillow dropped through like there was nothing there.

He entered hind-legs first, followed by his torso, head, and front hooves. Nothing happened. He was stuck. It was all going wrong! He was going to get eaten! He struggled and kicked to get out, but he couldn't move. He calmed down. So this-

Prism was falling. Very rapidly. He'd quickly exited the entrance and was now on the other side of the wall, but there wasn't any ground to catch him afterwards. He was in a giant cavern that tunneled straight down, and he was falling down it. He was going to die. Flattened at the bottom of a giant pit underneath a post office, never to be found or heard from again. As the wind whistled through his hair, he became surer and surer of his imminent death.

Ker-poof.

After he hit the ground, everything stopped. There was something fluffy. Was this the afterlife? The celestial realm?

He was lying on his stomach. He got up.

He wasn't in heaven, it was still incredibly dark down in the pit, and he was standing on a gigantic pillow. There was a pony-shaped concave in the pillow, which was slowly rising back up from the impact. He'd made it. He lit a light-spell and got off the pillow.

The cavern-ground was slimy, and with the added lubrication from the oil, he almost slipped and knocked himself out against the cavern wall. There was a tunnel that broke off from the pit and led presumably towards the changeling nest.

He trotted towards the tunnel, careful to not lose his balance. What was this stuff? It was green and slimy, and there was more and more of it on the ground and on the walls as he went deeper. He could see light ahead.

He entered another cavern, almost as big as the one he fell down, but on the walls there were giant, slimy, cocoons. Some of them had ponies. There was the post office stallion, in the corner. The old one. He didn't look so good. Prism could see his bones showing from under his fur, like he'd had his lifeforce sucked away. At the center of the cavern was a floating light that illuminated the cavern. Something about the lighting in the room seemed off, though. Unnatural.

"Well, well, well. What do we have here?" It was the voice of the stallion from up above. Prism spun around. The changeling revealed its true form, baring its teeth.

All of a sudden, Prism noticed what was wrong. There were only two lights in the room, yet he had three distinctive shadows.