Hunter

Trance thought it felt strange sitting on the cushioned seat of the empty train. He’d gotten used to stowing away in the train’s luggage cart, so the sudden change in luxury was a bit much.

The Changelings turned out to have a good path out of Canterlot. They had a train conductor who ran the late rails. Surprise, surprise, the train’s conductor turned out to be an undercover Changeling, one who’d been hidden undercover in Canterlot for quite some time. He provided a perfect escape into the night.

Trance learned that the Changelings had an interesting system set up here. He learned that Changelings feed off of love. With Equestria apparently having more love than anywhere, they’d used the place as their main feeding ground. Changelings called harvesters would travel from a place called the Badlands to the nearest rail station, where they would proceed to populated cities. Harvesters in disguise absorbed massive amounts of love, which they brought back to their hive for their companions to feast upon.

The whole thing seemed silly, but Trance accepted it in stride under the basis that this world function much differently than his own. He’d quickly learned that this world had different machinations and foundations that created the reality here. The main difference he’d come to see is the science and magic relationship. While his own world was based off the foundation of physics and chemistry, this world was built almost completely on ‘magic’ where science should be.

An example would be if you asked the question “Why does it rain?” You’d be told the reason is the water cycle from where Trance is from, but you’d get the answer magic in this world.

When Trance asked why their queen was really interested in him, they responded with that they really didn’t know. Besides the occasional question, things remained fairly quiet between the Changelings and human. He could not deny though that their species greatly interested himself. A species of full of master camouflaging creatures like themselves were incredibly gifted in ways that he envied.

About an hour into their departure or so, things went silent, aside from the sound of wheels on rail. The three Changelings sitting in the cart appeared to be staring out in space, their ear antennas twitching vibrantly. Trance assumed it was some sort of communication between them. They did share great resemblances to bugs, so he assumed their ears acted as beacons of some sort between them.

Not wanting to sit around and waste time doing nothing, Trance pulled out a dark cloth from his bag. It smelled heavily of oil and grease. He pulled out a smaller bag from his pouch, laying several different tools and machined parts. Even the most naive from his world would recognize them as partially dismantled firearms.

He begun to dismantle the parts further, cleaning and greasing them as he went.

Guns were no stranger to the bowman. He had stole them, hunted with them, fired them, and had them fired at him. He didn’t particularly like them, but he’d grown custom to them. Being the criminal he was, he had to be familiar with them. As much as he didn’t like to admit it, his bow couldn’t completely match up to superior fire power when certain situations deemed fit. Despite being his primary weapon, he knew very well reliance solely on it would kill him quick. That is why he always carried around a few guns and a lot of ammo just in case.

Before he knew it, there were three Changelings on all sides of him, each one watching his dexterous hands just as curiously as the last.

“What is all dat metal stuff?” one of them asked him.

“They are puzzles,” Trance answered seriously. “Puzzles that when completed are dangerous.” A Changeling reached out and picked up one of the objects. It was short and had two barrels.

“Mk. But what are dem?” it asked again. He closed an eye and peered into one of the barrels. Trance quickly took the gun from the oblivious creature.

“I wouldn’t ever do that again if I were you,” he answered calmly. He held up the weapon in his hands. “Allow me to educate you. This weapon is a Lupara, also known as the sawed off shotgun.” He expertly twirled the double trigger gun. “It’s a devastating close range weapon capable of stopping a bear. I won’t lie when I say its buck is as bad as its bite.” The Changelings looked even more confused.

“Dat bites and bucks your enemy?” One of them asked aloud. That actually got a chuckle out of the human.

Trance continued twirling the weapon in his hand like an expert. “Not exactly,” he said with a grin.

For the next two hours, Trance engaged in a lecture of different types of weapons and projectiles. He showed the Changelings the other weapons he had on hand: one a laser sighted H&K pistol, the other a dismantled custom Ruger rifle. They weren’t all he had, but it was what he had with him. While they didn’t understand half his lecture, they were still in awe at the feats capable of the weapons. It created a lingering question in the back of the Changelings’ minds.

“You saying you can kill something from 400 yards away with dat?” they asked in awe after hearing about his rifle. He nodded.

“Yes. Almost three times that distance if I swapped out the mechanisms in it.” They looked at the human in confusion.

“If dats true, why do you got dat?” one of them said gesturing to the bow on his back. “Dat fancy thing couldn’t do dat, could it?” Trance hummed. He wiped the oil from his hands and brought his compound bow in front of himself.

“I will not lie. I probably could barely hit and kill something past 200 yards, with the target, wind, and trajectory playing great parts. It is in fact a very difficult weapon to use, even more difficult to master.” He traced his hands over the string of the bow.

“Dat being said, why use it?” another Changeling asked. “It kinda dims in comparison to the things you said the other weapons could do.” Trance stared at the bow, plucking the string lightly.

“Let me tell you a little something about myself.” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “There are some from my world who were like me. We called ourselves the Jacks. We were are known as the Jacks of all Trades. We were renegades who were above others in the way of strength and intellect; outcasts that outclassed society. They had...talents much like my own. They had talents in all trades mind you, though they normally had a specialty, and with that specialty, they had an item, normally a weapon, that they were famous for.” He pulled out a silver lined lighter from his pocket. He flicked the flint, igniting the bright flame.

“This is the item of the person who came before me. They called her Lucy Lighters. She was a pyromaniac, one that was famous for setting rivers of fire.” He flicked the cap over the lighter, extinguishing the flame. “The bottom line is that it is custom for those of my descent to have an item that makes them special, one that makes them unique and one that they can pass down to their successor. My bow is the item that gave me the title Trance the Hunter. It is the item that I will pass down as well.” He returned the lighter to his pocket.

“However, understand that my bow is not merely some trinket that I will pass down. No, that’s not the sole reason I have it. That is not its purpose. I have my bow because I love the sound it makes when I fire.” He made to pull back the string, only to retract it before dry firing it.

“When I fire, I can hear the strings sing to me. The sounds are always there, vibrating within the air and within my head. There are no lyrics involved, but I can always hear a thousand lullabies gently whisper at once. It calms me. It relaxes me completely, more than anything else ever could. And once the strings cease echoing, when the strings stop singing, there is nothing more but peace and quiet that follows, like a shadow following a shepherd. Having feelings like that...That is the reason my people have a custom to find out special item. It is to understand clearly what made us special. For ourselves and for our world to know what we had done, and for our descents to know and learn what made us Jacks.” He looked back up to the Changelings to see them each teary eyed.

“Dat was beautiful,” one of them said, sniveling and wiping away a tear. The other two agreed. Trance blinked and set the bow on the ground, slightly surprised at what he said. It had been forever since he had told something on such a personal level about him and his people. He was even more surprised at what he was considering to do next. He opened one of his bags and grabbed a case from the bottom of it.

“You know,” he started opening the case, “I have watched professionals play instruments. I self taught myself how to play some of them, hoping that I’d be able to nonviolently recreate the feeling my bow gave me.” He pulled a viola out, as well as a thin string bow for it, a different bow that was meant to be played, not plucked. “I’d never managed to recreate that feeling, but I did learn to play quite a few songs. Any of you few care to hear one?”

There were simultaneous nods. Trance stood up, a small smile on his face as he rested his chin under the base of the instrument.

With quick flicks of his wrists and quicker flicks of his fingers, music started pouring into the air at such an intense speed that it surprised the Changelings. After his little story, they’d expected some kind of dark lulling tune. They were met with the opposite force; a quick, fast paced tune fit for a jig. Though the song was mostly repetition, the sounds and vibrations from the instrument made their antennas tickle in a funny way that felt pleasant. The Changelings secretly had a history of loving the feeling of hums and vibrations, their current generation no exception.

The sounds were hypnotic and infectious. It made them want to get up and start dancing, or go on some kind of life threatening adventure, battle cries roaring. They felt like you could rally an army with just the sound of that instrument alone. The sounds were just that invigorating, triggering several different feelings within the emotion bugs.

However, the song ended as quick as it began. The Changelings didn’t notice until he had already put up the instrument. The small sigh of the human was what brought them back down to Earth.

“Dat was amazing!” they chanted.

“I can’t believe how fast dem...uh what you call dem...claws moved?”

Trance flexed his wrists. “They are called fingers. Together, they are called hands.” He looked up, suddenly realizing something that he couldn’t believe he went so long without knowing.

“Hmm,” he started, “ You know that I’m called Trance, but I don’t know what you three are called.”

“Changelings,” they repeated in sync.

Trance almost facepalmed. “I got that. I mean what are your names?” They looked at him with blank looks.

“We don’t have names,” one of them answered. “Changeling don’t need dem.”

“You don’t have-…”Trance pinched the bridge of his nose. “How old are you three?” They blinked and looked at one another. They looked back at the human and shrugged.

“Dunno,” they repeated one after the other.

Trance pinched the bridge of his nose again and sighed. He realized now they were merely drones. They had no need for inequality between them, nor did they think differently to have such differentiation. They did as they were told. They had no purpose beyond such. They were just like bees working in a hive. They worked under a queen, doing as told, never having the capability to think any differently. They lived for their queen, worked for their queen, and died for their queen, helping the hive and her in the process. They might jump off a bridge without a second thought if ordered to. Names were not needed between them. It was sad in a way.

“Does...Does your queen have a name?” he asked them. They nodded their heads vigorously.

“Course she does! She is the beloved Queen Chrysalis, queen and ruler of the Changelings!”

After they said that, Trance couldn’t help but picture a bunch of these Changeling creatures bowing before a giant glass jar with a chrysalis cocoon inside it. What would that hatch into? A monarch butterfly? Get it? Monarch? See, its funny cause a monarch is a ruler and they’re bugs so-

‘Holy shit I'm an idiot...’

He almost slapped himself for thinking that horrible pun.

He shook off the ludicrous thoughts, almost certain that was definitely not what their leader was.

Probably.

“Alright then...”

He pulled out a red Sharpie and proceeded to draw a large 1 on both sides of the first Changeling’s cheeks, right under his big eyes. He drew two 2’s on the second, two 3’s on the third.

“What’s dis?” one of them asked, buzzing his wings and rubbing a hoof on his face. Trance capped the marker.

“I like you three, but I’m also a human. Humans are social creatures, and while you three may not do it the same way, we communicate to one another by given names. You three, with no racism included, look exactly alike to me. So, I’m giving you three names.” He pointed at the first one.

“Your name is Uno.” He pointed at the second. “Your Dos.” He looked at the last one. “Your Tres.” They blinked at the human before exchanging glances between one another.

“What’s racisim?” Tres asked.

Trance put a hand on what he believed to be the bug’s shoulder. “You know what it means.”

They blinked and looked at each other. “You human is weird,” Dos said.

Trance stretched his arms and yawned. “I prefer eccentric.” The human put the rest of his supply up before leaning back on a caboose chair, using a bag of gear as a pillow. He pulled his hood far over his face.

“I’ve been through a lot today. Wake me up when something happens...” he mumbled before drifting asleep.
...
...
...

“Hello Trance.”

‘Well...Shit.’

His eyes snapped open. He was standing in a gray void. His eyes quickly found the source of the voice; the ebony princess of the night. She almost blended in with the void around them, though her flowing mane made her easy to spot.

“You.”

Her cyan eyes met his blue ones. His eye patch was not with him.

The princess gazed intently at the human, her features as unmoving as his. She noted that he did not blink once.

“You escaped.”

“I have.”

They traded blank looks.

“Why?”

“I don’t like cages.”

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

They both fell silent.

“How did you escape Canterlot?”

He half closed his eyes, not quite blinking. “How do you know I’m not still in Canterlot?”

Luna bit her tongue, immediately realizing she’d fallen into one of his many mental traps. The human folded his arms and gazed at the void around them.

“So me sleeping is the equivalent to phone tapping for you...” he mumbled to himself. “You enter my dreams and slowly get a feel for my location. Ain’t that right?” Luna said nothing, instead slowly nodding her head.

“You can not run from us under the night,” she said quietly. “Why do you persist? Why must you continue this sick and pointless endeavour? And why do you still wish to eliminate me over something so trivial as seeing your dreams?”

His eyes narrowed upon her face. “Don’t be narcissistic, Zany,” he said seriously. It was the first time she’d heard him speak with this level of seriousness. “Do you really think it’s all about killing you? Do you really think that’s all I’m doing? Do you really think I find this all a big game?”

She looked at the human, “What do you mean?” She paused. “And what does Zany mean and why do you persist in calling me it?” The human walked right up to Luna, invading her personal space just as she invaded his sleep.

“Zany means a whimsical and silly person, as well as a slavish attendant or follower. That is how I see you. And, just so you know, I persist in calling all those I meet by nicknames unless you earn my respect.” He shrugged as it was just something he had always done.

“But enough of that. To answer your question what I meant is that if I wanted you dead, I’d have already killed you.” He circled her, walking very slow. “You may not be able to see it, and Sunny Sides may not be able to see it, but I can. I can see just everything that is wrong with your world. Your world is all too...innocent. That’s all it’s been for a very long time and that's just scratching the surface. I plan on fixing what I deem broken.” If it was possible, he stepped even closer. He looked down on the goddess of night.

“I will not lie when I say I have never killed the weak. I have never killed the ignorant. I have only killed the arrogant.” He seemed to step back into oblivion, but it was merely a single step away.

“I realize that despite your ages, both you and Celestia are not arrogant. You are only ignorant. So are the rest of you citizens.” He paused, taking a small breath as if he couldn’t breath.

“I realize now why I didn’t kill you with my first arrow on the first night. It was because at the time, I had an internal debate with myself that I didn’t even realize. I had a feeling that you were ignorant and didn't fully know at the time. It is why you are still alive. I’m not saying this as an insult; I say this as a fact. And as long as things stay that way, and your horns don’t clash mine, metaphorically of course, then I have no reason to target you, your citizens, or your sister. Likewise, so long as I keep my head down, you should have no qualms with me.”

The human closed both of his eyes for the first time since falling asleep, his dream world fading away. As the reality around both Luna and Trance faded, he opened his blind eye slightly.

“I pity you, you know? If you didn’t know my background, I’d want to be your friend. Fire burns brighter in the night after all.”

Luna was left with more questions than she came with as the human woke up.
...
...
…

The sound of low rumbling and rocking woke Trance up. He jolted up in the chair, as if he was shocked with lightning. Uno, Dos, and Tres were both sitting across from him, all staring into space, their antennas vibrating. They snapped out of their stoic states to see Trance standing, digging through one of his bags.

“What are you doing?” Tres asked, rubbing his eyes.

“Princess Luna entered my dreams,” he stated plainly. “I’m certain she knows where we are. We need to move.”

“Dat’s gonna be a problem,” a fourth Changeling said as he entered the cart. He was wearing a blue conductor's hat. “We need to go through Ponyville to get to Appleloosa. From there we go on hoof to Badlands. It a long trip, an even longer trip if walk only on hoof. Maybe a week to get to Badlands dat way.”

Trance ran a hand over his face, getting really irritated at this Ponyville. Somehow he kept ending back up there.

“Is there any way to cut down on the trip?” Trance asked after a moment. “Preferably a detour away from cities?” The four Changelings exchanged glances.

“There is,” Uno started, “but it would involve going through Everfree Forest.” Each one shivered at the name, as if it were a sin to say. “Dat place gives us the willies.”

Trance leaned on his bow. “How much time would it save to go through this forest?”

The conductor paused and stared into space for a moment. “Probably half the time.”

Trance stood. “Then that’s the way we’re going.” He looked at the conductor. “Could you change into your pony form?” He raised an eyebrow, but he said nothing about it. Green fire engulfed the Changeling before leaving an old sky blue Earth Pony in a blue over coat that matched his hat. He had a golden pocket watch on his flank and a pair of glasses on his face.

“Now what?” the Changeling in disguise questioned.

Trance pulled out a white cloth and bottle from his bag. He doused it with liquid before holding out the soaked cloth.

“Does this smell like a Chloroform mix to you?” The oblivious bug took a big sniff of the cloth.

“U-uhh. I-I dunno. Wh-what’s Floral-foam shmell liiiek...” The conductor face planted the floor, effectively knocked out. The other three Changelings stared wide eyed.

“What’d you go and do dat for?” Dos loudly said. Trance began to bind all four legs of the conductor’s legs with paracord.

“Luna or others could be here at any time,” Trance stated. “I need to make it look like I forced the conductor to take me this far.” Reaching into a bag, he pulled out a short metal bat, which he bashed out a glass window with. “That way, no one would expect him to be an accomplice or a Changeling.” He turned to Dos. “By doing this, I won’t compromise this love harvesting system you got set up. It is your main source of food right? I wouldn’t want my actions to hurt any of you or your family.”

The three conscious Changelings stared at the human in disbelief as he grabbed his bags before hopping on the caboose seats and crouching by the shattered window. No other creature had ever cared for their well being. Nopony would care if they were to starve. This single creature though was different. He genuinely cared. They weren’t in disguise, yet he willingly showed them an emotion nopony has ever willingly showed them.

Compassion.

“Come. I’d like to get outta here as soon as possible,” he said before jumping off the moving train in such a clean and effective move that he had to have done many times before. He disappeared like a shadow into the night. They had to move quickly to catch up with him.