Would use of the word "sorry" have really mattered? Does it ever? It's just a word. One word against the deeds you have done. Regret is part of being alive, but keep it a small part. - Rafa Dusk, Heir of House Dusk

City of Canterlot, Valiant Manor, Chambers of Ryler Valiant

The words echoed around in Ryler’s half-awake brain as if they were being muttered in tone. Words might be the wrong way to describe them. They were gibberish in Equestrian, and they didn’t seem to match the insect-like clicks that Rasp had made in his natural form. They were too few and too repeated to be words as he thought of them. Instructions was more what they felt like. Commands, directives, embedding themselves in his consciousness. Although he had no words to describe the sensation, the young pegasus would later come to understand it was the low-level thrumming beat of the changeling hive mind. Even in the quiet state that the queen had ordered he was receiving Rasp’s thoughts due to his proximity. Any foal in a school would have appreciated it; Ryler was learning in his sleep. There was very little actual knowledge so far, it was more the rudiments of communication being imprinted on him.

Ryler mulled these thoughts over the next morning during those half-asleep moments when one hasn’t yet attained sufficient wakefulness to regret what they did the night before.

The realization that Rasp had probably implanted something in his mind caused the young pegasus to bolt upright in his bed. He surged awake in a wild mix of guilt-tinged regret at his shameful satisfaction and crushing embarrassment. The latter caused him to slap a hoof against his face and grunt. The fact that he somehow was able to receive changeling telepathy quick took a back seat to self-indignation.

“Ugh… did I -really- call you my master last night? Ugh. I’m just going to go impale myself on a spike now.” He looked around for a bit, failing to see his companion from the night before. “Rasp?”

“I’m down here, you nitwit,” the antagonistic creature muttered, coming into view as he pulled himself from the floor onto the opposite side of the bed. “You pushed me off the bed when you woke up. Very feminine of you.” The insectoid creature gave him a sharp glare, and dragged himself back onto the mattress.

Ryler looked back at Rasp a moment, and rolled his eyes. “I think we’ve firmly established I don’t make a very good female, Rasp. Ugh, I called you master….” Once again hoof met face in a self-punishing expression of Ryler’s regret.

Rasp chittered and moved behind the pegasus, wrapping his forelegs possessively around the pony and making a bit of a sneer. “You make a decent enough female when you are in the moment, Ryler. Like most stallions, you embrace many of the classic stereotypes of mares, but those stereotypes exist because they are true in some part. You play to your own expectations of what a female is and your great mistake is not in how you play them, but that you regret it at all. You enjoyed calling me master at the time, now you regret it because you think I will take that seriously all of the time. Also because you sounded like something out of some bodice-ripping romance novel. Again, that you care about such things is the problem. You enjoyed it, many times, all night long. Like a voracious underfed animal. You regret because you think you should. Stop being so ridiculously ashamed. Shame is for ponies. I’m liberating you from that.”

With a grumping snort, Ryler leaned back into Rasp, sighing at the comfort of a controlling and owning set of limbs around him. “Get out of my mind, Rasp…” He made another frowning face, annoyed at the accuracy of Rasp’s statements. Ryler felt like a foregone conclusion around Rasp, unable to surprise or evade the creature’s perceptiveness. “Hmm… tell me something. What are you… what precisely are you. And what was that gobbledygook I was hearing in my mind?”

The changeling laughed with a rye amusement. “Last night was more than your base sexual gratification, Ryler. Let us suffice it to say you received in my venom, among other fluids, something akin to a magical potion that has begun a slow change in your body. We use this in our transformative processes. Sidebar, we can use stallions for breeding just as well as mares.”

After a bit of thought, Ryler looked down and murmured out, “Broodmares and drones… I think I can imagine what you do for ponies to make them breeders….”

“And that thought arouses you….” Rasp noted with amusement.

The pegasus elbowed him with a foreleg to his side. “Shut up, Rasp.” He snorted out, and then continued. “I’m going to assume you’re true to your word, and want to make me one of you, so… what next? Do I start losing my coat? Grow a horn like yours? Get…. leg holes? What?”

“Nothing of the sort,” Rasp replied. “Right now you are marked before all our kind as a pony not to be harmed. Broodmares do not share in the Commonality. Your connection, however slight, indicates that not only are you not to be harmed, but that you are groomed for a purpose. By the end of the day, that’s going to be important. In the chaos to come I do not want another of my kind attacking you. Once the takeover of Equestria is complete, you’ll become one of us. You’ll choose a new name for yourself at that time. Your Princess Celestia too, if she’s not killed in the battle.”

Ryler sighed softly and looked down at the floor. “I should run and tell my father of this…. I should stop this.” He turned and looked at Rasp, giving the changeling a hateful glare as he pushed Rasp on his back in the center of the bed. “I hate you, you know that. I utterly despise you, Rasp.” Ryler moved between the center of Rasp’s legs, lowering his head down to pleasure the changeling again. It was a scene that any noblepony would have understood. Hate-fueled sex was part and parcel of the life of a pony who moved in the conniving, scheming, competitive social circle of the upper crust. The irony that Ryler was still following the patterns of his noble upbringing was not lost on him, but at the moment he did not care. Sex was and ever would be a great momentary escape from one’s problems.

“You… you…. FIXED me!” Ryler gaped as she turned from side to side to look at herself in the mirror. “I mean… alright, my mane is black, and my coat is a different shade, but… you… you…” Ryler sputtered, unable to finish a coherent sentence as she gazed at the form of the mare in the mirror. There was a kind of a floating dissociative feeling that made her light-headed. It was her and it was not. Euphoria warred with confusion and Ryler was suffused with a giddy feeling that left her gobsmacked.

“No, I did not,” Rasp flatly replied. “One good look between your legs would give you away, and this is only temporary. I used some of my magic to imprint a shape upon you. I believe in learning by doing, Ryler. The day is just begun, and we have some things to take care of. Since we have to leave the estate anyway, now is as good a time as any to practice assuming another form. And I have a feeling that as a changeling your alternate forms are going to be dominated by a list of female personas. I’m psychic that way,” he deadpanned.

Ryler was too pleased to care about the little jibes Rasp made. Everything about her body shape was right in a way she had never felt before. The curves were more defined, the shape of her body more lithe. But it was especially notable in the face. There had been low points in his life where Ryler was so frustrated by the masculine appearance of her face that she had wanted to tear the skin off. There was a dimorphism in faces between masculine and feminine. A good number of ponies fell in the middle of a bell curve between the two, but Ryler had always felt herself stuck on the “definitely a stallion” end of the curve. Now, though, now she….

“If you’re done admiring yourself, could you please get dressed,” Rasp snapped.

With a nervous nod, the pegasus did as she was told, looking around and gathering up the clothing she had purloined the night before. “Do you really think I can pull this off?” She asked as he gathered up the garments.

“There’s a reason I didn’t leave you with your original mane and coat coloring.” Rasp stretched out on the bed, and in a now-familiar whoosh of green flame, he transformed himself into a duplicate of Ryler in his normal body. “The worst that will happen is that you will appear to be sneaking out a stallion dressed as a mare. While I, as you, will take the fall appropriately and smooth it all over. At best… you will appear to be escorting out a female visitor for the night. Once they get over the shock of you with a mare, there will probably be a collective sigh of relief that you actually fancy females, and they will let down their guard. I know better than to risk all on a walk down a hallway.”

“Actually,” Ryler purred out, “I rather think I can pull this… Uh, Rasp, why are you getting back under the cov…” KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

“Ryler, you awake in there! Sweet Celestia, what were you....” The voice from behind the door was muffled by the heavy oak, but became a clear masculine baritone as the door opened and Ryler’s brother Camber came barging in. Camber was tall, his coat a lighter shadow of brown, with his mane a sleek golden yellow. Ready smile, big grin, and tons of charm that was instantly aimed at the mare before him. “Oh my…. so that’s what he was doing last night. My my my… well good on him… on the both of you! I’m Camber, brother to your, uh… companion of last night.”

Ryler blinked in shock and then grinned in a wide delighted smile as Camber failed to recognize who he was speaking to. She took a moment to clear her throat and then spoke out in her most feminine voice. Much to her shock, it came out perfectly. “Delighted to meet you, Camber.” She held out a hoof to him and thought quickly about how to introduce herself. Rasp had mentioned she would need a new name and Ryler’s mind raced to find something appropriate for the kind of changeling she was going to become. “My name is Mali.”

“Mali, it is most delightful to meet you. I hope my brother has been a good host to you.” Camber flashed her a scheming grin and took the hoof she offered, raising it to his lips for a light kiss and then lowering it back down. Camber made no secret that he found Mali’s appearance quite fetching, looking at her with intentions that seemed less than brotherly.

In theory, she supposed, she should have been galled at this. Ryler’s first mare that anypony knew about and there was her brother giving her the once-over twice. She looked over at Ryler on the bed and found the false pegasus snoring away in his feigned sleep. Finding herself with a lecherous cad in front of her and a disguised changeling snoring his way out of helping her, Mali frowned a moment in indignation. Both of them needed to be gotten back for his. She could do this. She could absolutely do this. In for a nibble, in for a bit.

Mali looked back up at Camber and flashed him a wide smile and a furtive movement of her tongue across her lower lip. “Well…. for the most part.” She gave him a seductive and sultry look, her eyes roaming up and down his body. She did have to admit, Camber was quite the attractive stallion. “He did seem to tire rather quickly. Poor dear, I think Ryler will be asleep for some while longer. Perhaps you can keep me… entertained while he gets his beauty rest?”

Camber raised an eyebrow in a manner very reminiscent of his younger brother, looking skeptically at the mare in front him. A devious grin replaced the look soon enough, and Camber chuckled. “Oh… I think we can. My room is just one door over, do follow me…”

“It’s going to be a distinct pleasure,” Mali replied with sultry purr as she moved after Camber, closing the door behind her. As she did, she caught sight of the changeling in Ryler’s body lurching up in the bed and giving an indignant glare to Mali. The expression on Rasp’s face was pure shock, and it was priceless. She’d finally managed to do something to defy that damn changeling’s expectations.

The Commonality that Rasp spoke of was doubly weak for Mali. It consisted of just two minds, and she was barely able to perceive it at all. That being stated, Rasp managed to send something into Mali’s mind that even her extremely limited abilities could parse.

There really wasn’t any direct translation from changeling directive into Equestrian language that Mali could make out, but her best guess was that Rasp had just told her to go screw herself.

It was just as hard to translate Equestrian language back into the Commonality’s strange set of commands, but last night’s injection of commands and directives seemed to have given her a grasp of the basics. Her reply was something to the effect of, “Yes, but him first.”

An hour later, a very smirkingly satisfied mare strode back into Ryler’s chambers and closed the door, casting a triumphant glance over to where the false Ryler was sitting on the bed. “That was… liberating,” she purred out.

“Not to mention dangerous. And with your own brother. I’m not sure if I should be thrilled with you, or slap you across the muzzle. You may be taking to your new future with a bit too much gusto. You could easily have been caught.” The changeling that looked like Ryler shot Mali an appraising, calculating, look. “You’re either a prodigy or a reckless menace, and I am not sure which. And…. Mali? What inspired that.”

“You did, Rasp…. you did. You said I was going to need a new name. If Rasp really is your name, it either refers to that grating sound of your voice or a tool to reshape wood. Either’s really applicable to you, as you’re reshaping me. Then you said that I might be exactly like you… a changeling who could feed off negative emotions instead of the positive ones the rest of your kind feed off of. Then, when Camber came in, it just hit me….” She beamed a smile at him, and bowed with an exaggerated flourish. “Mali… Malignance.”

The changeling stared unblinking at him for a while, impassive and calculating. Finally he announced, “You’ve gone from a complete wreck of a pony to an overconfident egotistical villain in less than a day’s time. So you think. But it’s not that simple, Malignance… Ryler. You’re going to bounce between elation and depression several more times as you deal with the consequences of what you are and what you’re going to do in the future. Oh, I have every confidence you will eventually embrace what you are, but don’t pretend it’s all power trips and sex from here on in.”

Rasp’s words were like a cold splash of water across Mali’s face. In many ways, it was like the previous night and the feeling of looking into the mirror and realizing that the femininity she had sought for was nothing but a pipe dream. Rasp’s magic let her hold onto the ideal of her gender, but a new illusion was being shattered by the harsh commentary.

“You know… I look forward to the day all this is done, so I have one name, and one gender…” Mali sighed out.

Rasp chuckled. “You’re going to become a changeling… your name and your gender are never truly going to be fixed, young Malignance. Ponies are locked into one body, true, but identity is in the mind, and not the body. You are the name you give yourself and the gender you give yourself. Your culture binds your spirit to your flesh, as if one determined the other. It’s pathetic. It’s made you into the miserable mess that you are.”

Malignance sighed out. “Fine… all points taken, including your warning. I get it… I’m running around in a borrowed illusion and I played a very dangerous game. But I won, didn’t I? I got the drop on you who seem to know me better than I know myself, and I got revenge on my brother, even if he doesn’t know it. Can’t I be happy about that for just a little while?”

The changeling gave Malignance a reproachful look. “I gain nothing from your happiness, Malignance. I am not your friend. I am your conqueror. I’m not your lover, I’m the creature that defiled you.” He paused as he read the mare’s emotional energies, and scowled. “And why you love me for it is beyond my capacity to understand.”

Malignance shrugged lightly. “It’s not you… not really. It’s not you I love, Rasp. I hate you. I love the things you do to me. I love what happened last night. I love the body you gave to me, even if it’s only for a while. I love that I am important to someone. I love the promises you made to me… and I love it so much that I’m willing to let a kingdom full of ponies become your victims rather than give it up. I’m pathetic.”

Rasp made his illusion of Ryler’s face twist into a sardonic grin. “Of course you are, you’re a pony.”

Malignance looked over to Rasp and shot him a foul look. “I am NOT a pony.”

“Now you’re learning. Come, Malignance… we still have to run that errand.” The changeling stood, and walked to the door. “This way, m’lady… we need to be back here quickly. The whole family will be expected to attend the wedding this afternoon, and preparations must be made.”

Malignance nodded her head, and joined the impersonation of Ryler at the door. The two made their way out of the House Valiant estate without incident. If anything, it was far too easy. Rasp in Ryler’s form said and did all the right things. Malignance said and did all the right things. Even Camber was a perfect gentlecolt in front of them. It made a kind of sense, though.

Ryler was with a mare he’d taken for an evening’s pleasure. She was a pretty pegasus who spoke well and charmed well. Nopony questions success. To Ryler’s family and the house staff, he had done just that, succeeded. A young noblepony making his first conquest with a beautiful young mare that had the right breeding to be worthy and who was unknown enough to be disposable when it came time to pick a real pairing for him that would be politically advantageous.

City of Canterlot, Mane Street and Vicinity

So off they went through the house and out into the streets of Canterlot. Rasp lead, and Malignance followed. Always “Mali” to the ponies, of course. She was charming and sweet while Rasp played Ryler as the young lord about town doing last minute business before the big wedding. Love was in bloom, let the young lords and ladies have their fun.

They moved through the crowded cobblestone roads, weaving in out of the throngs of ponies that were filling the city. Anypony who was not able to make it into the castle proper for the wedding was making due with the celebratory impromptu block parties that had filled half the city’s byways.

At the appointed place, at the appointed hour, Malignance who was Ryler and Ryler who was Rasp found themselves in a secluded back alley. A third pony (or changeling, Malignance had no idea which) was waiting there in the shadows.

A cold, female voice spoke out from the shadows, tinged with anticipation and irritation. “Which one of you is in charge?”

“I am,” Rasp said with a countering calm.

“Ryler?” The mare said, surprise in her voice.

Malignance blinked in the realization that whomever this conspirator was, she knew her… him. She knew Ryler. Damn genders. A noblemare, then, but who, which house? How many ponies knew these changelings existed? She did her best to keep a neutral expression, letting Rasp speak for them.

“Don’t be obtuse, Lady. I’m no more Ryler than you are a patriot. Dahhh…..” Rasp held up a Ryler-looking hoof. “Don’t even let the protest out of your mouth. This isn’t the time or place for either of us to trade barbs. Consider an apology tendered, m’lady. My queen has everything in position and we proceed as planned. Unless you say differently.”

Malignance watched with a dawning realization that Rasp’s barb had been deliberate. Enough to get an emotional reaction from the mare. Maybe to feed, maybe to read her in some way. The acquaintance may have been brief, but she was sure that Rasp never did anything without a deliberate reason for it. As if reading her mind, and he probably was, Rasp turned his head and nodded to Malignance slightly.

The mare huffed some, and finally responded. “Very well. Your apology is… acceptable. But I expect to not hear such again. I will trade wit with a queen, but not a common soldier. Everything is as it should be, no change in plans.”

And that was it. The mare turned abruptly and left one way while the two of them went went back the way they came.

They made their way to another empty alley where Rasp ordered Malignance out of her clothing. One she had complied, Rasp ended the magic transforming her, and Malignance was once again Ryler. He was so disappointed.

“You need to go back to your estate, and I have a thing which needs doing. I’m going to spare you the intimidating lecture about second thoughts. Know you’re being watched, Ryler.”

Ryler nodded his head. It was far too late to back out now anyway. He looked at Rasp, and asked softly. “Just how long have you been planning this?”

Rasp paused to look at Ryler, assessing him before he answered. “The invasion of Canterlot has been planned for some time. This day is going to be perfect.”

After they parted company, Rasp spared a look over to Canterlot castle, and muttered. “And that’s what worries me…”

Author's Note

Getting this out took a lot longer than I had anticipated! It had been my plan to get the chapter finished before I went on vacation for a week, but that didn't pan out. Then my visions of relaxing on a patio as I wrote were dashed by the fact that the company of my friends proved far more engaging than sitting around typing in isolation. Then video games. Being sucked into SMITE and Killing Floor 2 are totally valid reasons for not writing more. Plus my Spitfires in War Thunder needed me! Those are all legit reasons, right? Right? No? Alright, well... I got distracted, I suppose. Budgeting time for all my projects evenly has always been my downfall.

The next chapter should deal with the wedding, and its consequences. I'm still debating in my mind just how much writing to devote to the wedding itself. I'm very tempted to write some side-stories during the event to cover the actions of Luna and those in her employ.