Nix: Identity

CHAPTER NINE: QUESTIONS OF IDENTITY

This creature that had saved the Changeling was certainly an odd one. Standing on two legs only and managing to tower above the others was the largest oddity. Though the Changeling couldn’t exactly be one to judge; they were all oddities after all.

He looked at his savior as he stared out the window, lost in his thoughts. A dreamlike gleam came over his eyes as he stared outside, and the Changeling somehow knew that a million thoughts were going off in his head. He didn’t try to interrupt him, allowing him to remain in his thoughts.

The Changeling had many questions, but he figured they could wait when they returned. Right now he had to figure out a name for himself.

He glanced at the black hedgehog that was sitting on the seat in front of him, arms crossed. Red streaks went down his quills and white fur stood out of his chest. His eyes were closed and he seemed to be meditating. He seemed rather distant from the group, almost like a shadow of something else, a darker past, perhaps. The Changeling then cast his gaze upon the other creature that sat next to him rigidly. She stared straight ahead, not even bothering to attempt conversation, nor appearing to recognize his presence. She was a lavender mare with a horn on her head; a pink-red star was on her flank. He guessed that it was some sort of mark of sorts, perhaps a sign of power. She was the coldest one in the group towards him, he realized, though he understood why, to some extent. After all, he was apparently some sort of creature from her past that had done something irrevocable. Perhaps her coldness was simply her memories resurfacing.

Was his kind really this bad? Did they really perform some sort of evil?

He looked down at his hoof. It was ash-grey, and had several holes on it. They didn’t seem like puncture marks; rather, they might have been there from the start of his life. A pair of lightly-transparent blue wings were on his back. They seemed quite fragile, and he was afraid that any amount of stress might break them. They reminded him of insect wings in this way, and he reflected on their delicateness. A dark-grey horn was on his head, curved and oddly shaped. It wasn’t a cone, like the one on the lavender mare. It was distorted, ugly even, and he found himself uneased by it.

I guess I would be hesitant to let me follow them home, he thought. Given my appearance, I would find myself quite unnerving as well.

He looked out the window, still in a pensive mood. He watched the landscape rush on by, hills and fields a blur of green and brown. Daisies and petunias stuck out here and there, adding some variety to the blurring world around the train. As the train moved, their colors gradually blended into a mix of white and purple. He found this mix quite pretty.

As time passed, he found himself reflecting on his supposed past. If what his savior said was true, that he was of an evil race, then what did that mean for him? Did that mean that he was a bad person? Should his past define his amnesiac present?

Who am I? What am I? Can I change?

Still pondering, I see, a voice suddenly said.

The Changeling yelped and jumped. “Gah!” he exclaimed. “Who said that?”

I did, the bipedal creature mentally said, waving a hand. Psychically, of course.

The black hedgehog chuckled at the bipedal creature’s forwardness. You never seem to be able to break that easily to people, he said.

The Changeling gave them a questioning look. How are you hearing this? he asked the shadow.

I allowed him, answered the bipedal creature. Or rather, I opened a psychic link that will allow us to communicate telepathically.

Oh...that makes sense, said the Changeling.

They were silent for a moment, then:

Um, if you don’t mind me asking...who are you guys? the Changeling asked.

Jared Berberabe, the tall one said. Guardian of the Omniverse, at your service.

Guardian, huh? Is that some sort of royal title?

The lavender mare actually laughed, causing the other three to give her a confused look. She blushed and waved them off.

Er, no, it’s my ‘occupation,’ if you will, Jared answered.

I thought you were a writer? the black hedgehog retorted. My name’s Shadow the Hedgehog. Ultimate Life Form.

Jared snorted. Please, I’mthe Ultimate Life Form.

That’s not your title—

Girls, please, later, another voice interrupted. A green hedgehog spirit suddenly appeared next to Jared, floating in midair.

The Changeling gasped. Who’s that?

The other half of the Guardian, the green hedgehog answered with a grin. Nix the Hedgehog. At your service.

Nix turned to the lavender mare. “Aren’t you going to introduce yourself?”

She sighed, annoyed, but conceded to mentally introducing herself. Twilight Sparkle. And I guess my title would be Princess of Friendship.

Royalty?! The Changeling suddenly got up and kneeled before Twilight.

Whoa, fast learner, Jared commented. Where’d you learn how to treat royalty?

The Changeling looked up with confused eyes. I don’t know. I just did this instinctually. He gave Twilight a meek look. Sorry, Princess. I didn’t mean—

She managed a small smile, despite still being a bit cold to him. It’s alright; you don’t have to treat me like royalty.

He nodded, and sat back in his seat, resuming his thoughtful mood.

Still questioning who you are, I see, Nix said, chuckling softly.

The Changeling sighed. Yeah. I have so many questions that nopony can answer.

In time, you may have all the answers you need. But, it’s not the answers themselves that matter; it’s how you go about getting them.

He took a moment to think over Nix’s words, as the Guardians looked over at him quietly. Could that be true? Not all answers were easy to find; it was the determination and the drive to find them out was what mattered. The journey, in many cases, was more important than the destination.

In that case, what should concern him more? His past; or his now unknown present and future? What was more important?

Twilight, Jared asked. What did the Changelings do that warrants hostility?

The Princess of Friendship sighed. It’s a long story.

We’ve got time.

Maybe, but don’t you think that the others should know? Especially since we’re bringing one of them along?

She glanced at the Changeling. He was perturbed, that already he was being identified as a “them,” as if he was an anomaly. Anger didn’t rise up in him, however; only angst and a desire to redeem himself. His race’s crimes were unknown to him, but somehow he felt he owed a debt.

Twilight, he said as calmly as he could, I don’t know what my race has done. But I promise you, I am not like them.

She had an unsure look on her face but, after Jared cast her a knowing look, sighed and nodded. Alright. I’ll...give you a chance. Please don’t mess up.

A part of him lit up like fireworks, and joy entered his heart. Thank you; it means so much. He furrowed his brow. Then again, everything means so much, since I have nothing to compare them to…

Nobody responded, and the conversation ended there. At the request of the Changeling, Jared terminated the mental connection.

Now he was left with his thoughts and a window viewing the outside. Can I really change who I am, or who I was, without knowing what I did? Would I be changing my identity for the better?

He had to trust these people who had saved him; and he most likely had to trust the people they were bringing him to. No doubt that they would react similarly, if they had history with the Changelings. Yet somehow he had latched onto them, and didn’t want to disappoint them. For what reason, he could not understand; perhaps it was a psychological need born out of amnesia.

He shook himself. These were tough issues, and he needed time to think on them.

What do I call myself? I have nothing to mark me; I am an enigma to all. What should define who I am? A name; I need a name.

The sun was starting to set, and he found himself staring up at the sky. It was still bright enough to see the landscape, though now the sun was starting to wane below the hills. A few stars peeked out from behind the now turning orange clouds. The back of the sky was phasing into a dark blue, with orange highlights in the middle.

The sky was unknown to him; it was foreign to his mind. Evidently he had never observed the sky in such a way for it to truly touch upon him. It was unknown, yet strangely familiar; comforting, despite being so far away.

He shook himself. Why was he thinking like this? Getting so philosophical over a skyline was unheard of; at least to him.

Then again, perhaps it was a sign. Free of an unknown past, he somehow had more time to treasure the unknown aspects of life. He could look at the sky and form new meaning behind it; and when he got his memories back, he would have double the amount.

So why did the sky speak to him in such a way, as to encourage questioning and ruminating? He did not know; yet found himself liking it very much.

It’s the end of twilight, and the beginning of night, he reflected. An end to a different past, and the start of a different present.

He smiled as he watched the sun go down and the trees go by and the land fly by him. For now he had a name. It was short and cliche, but it seemed to define him. And that was all that mattered.

With this in mind, Dusk was born from the remnants of the unknown.