Outcast

by The Snazzy Hat

Rating: teen
Tags: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Original Character, Tragedy, Queen Chrysalis, Adventure, Princess Celestia
Length: 2600

Running for my life, all my life.

I am an outcast. Ever since the attack on Canterlot, things have gone from bad, to worse. For our tribe, food has become even more scarce, families are fighting and to top it all off, I am being hunted by both Pony and Changeling alike. I can't stop. I can't live. I can't fight. All I can do is run, and never look back.

I am an Outcast.
I am a Changeling.
This is my story.

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Hey guys! Snazzy Hat here! Hopefully this newest fan fic won't cause me to run out of steam and just let it disintergrate like my last one. I also apologise for the admittedly rubbish title art. However, if you would like to offer your fantastic artistic or Photoshop skills, please give me a PM.

Published 2012-07-10 21:34:02 UTC
Last updated 2012-07-10 21:34:02 UTC

Chapter 1

I was there when the attack started. Queen Chrysalis ordered me to be one of the many Changelings to infiltrate Canterlot before the attack started. Only a few were ever discovered, because only a few were revealed. I realised that we would be defeated. The power of the Elements of Harmony would be too strong for anyone. I had managed to leave Canterlot minutes before the attack started. I saw the entire thing unfold from my hidden campground. When I saw that we were victorious, my heart sank. I knew that my queen would not stop until every last betrayer had their heads on her wall, starting with mine. When I saw her defeated, I rejoiced, thinking my worries were over! I could re-intergrate myself into Canterlot society! I could have a life not under the servitude of some megalomaniacal queen, even if it was all an act! How wrong I was.

I had been smart. I had waited for everything to blow over. Security finally started to relax. Cantelot resumed its normal activities. I became a traveller, going under the name of Carteus Ographer. I had grown up in Manehattan and decided to explore the world! I even made up a story of how I got my cutie mark. That’s what I was known best for back home. My long tales of imaginary places, with strange and mysterious creatures and lands.
Anyway, I got as far as the gate before I was surrounded by elite guardsponies. I was held down by spearpoint.
“What is the meaning of this?” I tried to scream
“Silence Changeling” the guard spat “We know what you are, and we know where you’re going!”

I had been stripped of my disguise by their magic. I tried to tell them my story, but no-one would listen to me. They thought I was just another beast to them. Primal. Unfeeling. A monster. Who can blame them? I eat their love. For all intents and purposes, I am a monster.
But what defines a monster?

I was thrust into my cell. The harsh steel grate was slammed shut, sealing me away from freedom.

“May you rot in this dungeon you worm.”

Those words hurt. They spun around in my brain and buzzed and stung like hornets. It almost drove me to tears. I felt like just giving myself up then and there. Letting myself dissolve into nothingness. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.
Then I think. The guards forgot one vital thing. My magic! I still had my magic! I looked around, poking my eyes through the bars. The guard was distracted, beating in the snout of an unfortunate diamond dog.
I wasted no time. I concentrated on turning myself to a liquid. I felt myself shimmer and ripple, and fell to the ground with a splash. Before the guard knew what had happened, I had slipped through the drain. I was free again!

I fell through the sewerage pipes into a lake. I reformed myself, taking the form of a simple woodland creature. Nobody would look twice at a squirrel. I ran from tree to tree, hoping that nothing would impede my progress. I winced as a once solid tree limb suddenly whipped around and grabbed me. A face loomed out of the bark.
A Changeling!

“Well well, running away you little rat?” he sneered, gripping me tighter “Well not anymore! You’re coming with us!”

I heard hoofsteps. Guards! I looked around desperately for an escape route as they crashed through the undergrowth.

“I thought I heard something over here! It’s the prisoner! Get him!”
The changeling dropped me as I fled into the undergrowth. I was just glad that all of our kind looked almost exactly the same. These careless ponies wouldn’t be able or willing to tell the difference.
I ran further and faster into the undergrowth, hoping my escape would go unnoticed, until I found a small, dank crack in the rock. Celestia’s mighty sun was dipping low in the sky, and while changelings are strictly nocturnal beings, I was never much for tradition. I concentrated again, trying to envision myself as a small insect, just wide enough to fit in the crack.
The moon shone high in the night sky as I crawled into safety, the cold embrace of the rock, shielding me from my hunters. I knew I could not stay, but I had to rest.

That night I dreamed. My home was destroyed. My possessions ransacked. The building in which I lived, loved and grew up in burned to the ground. They were torturing me. The hivemind of the changelings was strong, and while I was able to break free like some other infamous changelings, I still shared in the pictures and sounds. No one was hunting me. They thought they could break me, force me to come back.
They were sadly mistaken.
I cared nothing for that anymore. I discarded my feelings of home the minute I broke free from the reign of Queen Chrysalis, since I knew very well that I may not be alive to come back home.
That day, I became an Outcast. One of the few stupid, brave or mad enough to break free from the reign of a changeling overlord.
That day, my life became much, much shorter.

I left the crack in the rock. I could not stay anywhere for more than a day. I shed my insect form and became a simple wood thrush. Fast, agile, and hardly noticeable.

I blended in with the simple woodland creatures. I made sure to avoid anything that looked remotely suspicious. Animals that shouldn’t normally be in some places, trees that moved just a little bit too much, any abnormality suggested that I was being watched by my former Queens best trackers. I had no choice but to head for the roads.

I waited for a moment. I heard a group guards approaching, likely escorting one of the Royal trackers. They were all hunting me. Like I was some kind of animal.
I waited too long. A changeling snuck up behind me and narrowly missed me. I was glad I had taken such a small form. He tried to capture me again, but I flew out into the open road, causing him to leap out of the scrub and collide with the patrol. His allies leapt out to his defence, and a brawl soon ensued.
I wish I could not have used my brethren like that, but it was necessary.

The sky was clear of anything that could capture me. I looked around warily, with my sharply tuned bird’s eyes scanning for my pursuers. It looked all clear. I breathed a sigh of relief as I resumed my original form. Changelings can hold a form however long they want, but it takes a heavy toll on their bodies if they do.

“There it is!” a voice rang out clear as crystal. To this day I regret being so stupid and foolish. I never suspected that anypony would be hiding behind the clouds.
The group of Pegasai bucked their cloud cover into me, knocking the wind from my gut. I hurtled to the ground at incredible speed. Before I blacked out I hear one of them say.

“Good as dead anyway. Serves him right.”

Why was I dead to them? Is it because they feared me? Why did I deserve it? I only feed on emotions because that’s what I need to do in order to survive? Would they exterminate my entire race because we inconvenience them?
Why do they want to kill me?
Why do they want me dead?

There was a saying I had read in a book somewhere once. It was a very old one, with much of the archaic Changeling script completely unintelligible. But I managed to cross reference and translate it to the best of my abilities. The book was interesting, and raised many points on prejudice and arrogance. But in the time I spent unconscious, one phrase stood out to me.
“What makes a monster? And what makes a man?”
I do not know what it means by this creature called ‘man’. Probably some ancient civilization that descended into some primitive creatures of today. But it raises a good question. How do you define what is a monster?
These questions were forced to the back of my mind when I regained consciousness. I shook my head, wondering how in Equestria I was still alive. Then I noticed something on the ground. I picked it up. A scroll? I opened it, but to my disappointment, I could not read it. The scroll, whatever it might say, however important it may be, was in Equestrian. I shook my head and discarded it. It was probably just a message some careless courier dropped.

My troubles had not ended. While my supposed death had bought me some time, Chrysalis’ minions would not stop hunting for me until they had brought her my head on a plate. I had to move. Possibly avoid towns and cities at all if I could. But I was hungry. Even if I could not feed on emotions, I had to eat something else.
I decided on taking the form of a traveling pony yet again. Chestnut fur, a pitch black mane and tail and an ivory quill for a cutie mark. I had not bothered to think up a plausible story yet, but I was too hungry to think straight. I wandered onto a path and looked up at a sign. Where should I go? I needed somewhere where I would not go unnoticed upon entering, but small enough to minimise the guard risk. As I was thinking about this a small cart rolled up to the crossroads where I was standing.

“Hey buddy, do you mind?” said the gruff pony. I apologised quickly and moved out of his way. “Hey, just out of curiosity, where are you heading?”
“Uh… Well I haven’t really thought about it yet. I was hoping to travel to a small town. Somewhere quiet.” I replied
“Well, your best bet is heading out west to Appleoosa. It’s fairly quiet now, even though they had that big dustup with the buffalo a few months back. But I suppose it’s really none of my business. So long kid!”
“Yeah. Thanks!” I called back. This is what I wanted to be. Not feared, not oppressed, despised or distrusted, but happy, knowing that somewhere, everypony had a little kindness they were willing to share.

“Has thou done what is wished upon thee?”
“Y-Yes Princesses, but I don’t understand! Why would you have me help that… that Changeling?!”
“All in due time. For now, you must carry out your other orders, and make sure that Queen Chrysalis does not capture him. We need him in our hooves if we want her removed from power and a new Changeling Overlord established.”
“As… As you wish.”

Appleoosa. A small dusty western town with more cowboys and girls than any town in Equestria. It was so nice to see the diversity of the world close up instead of looking at it through cramped telescopes and books and wondering. Dreaming. Hoping that one day I could shatter the glass and become one with this happy, unworried world. I wanted some of that happiness.
Shaking myself out of my deep thought I decided upon making up who I was. After my walk through the town I decided who I was.
My name was Gilded Scroll. I was an aspiring writer from Horseton and had decided to create a novel about Western Pony life. Seeing as there was only one natural choice I came to Appleoosa.

I strolled into town in my new disguise. I looked around for any suspicious activities. Finding none, I sighed as I walked over to a rickety old building which looked like a good place to kick up my hooves. As soon as I was about to push through the swivel doors, I collided with a delirious old pony being shoved out of the doorway.

“That’s enough salt for you Festus! It’s been the third time this week! Go home and cool off!” barked a rusty looking pony with a cowpony hat
“Can’ I at leash’ have a glash of water?” he asked, his speech slurred.
“Now excuse me sir, but would ya kindly git offa me?” I asked in an accent that would at least allow me to blend in a lot easier
“Ah, shorry kid.” He said, dusting himself off before stumbling into the sunset.

I trotted into the dinky little place and looked around. It looked just like many of the western plays I had seen as a changeling child, while I was still part of the Hivemind. You know, the ones that look like an old fashioned bar brawl could break out at any slight provocation. Anyways, I walked up to the counter and sat down on one of the barstools.

“What’ll it be sonny?” asked the rusty looking pony who threw the old pony out of the bar earlier.
“Uh, I think I’ll just have some water.” I replied. The barpony just laughed
“G’wan son, be a little adventurous! We’ve just got a new shipment of hard cider from our orchards! Lemme tell ya son, you ain’t ever gonna ferget Appleoosa after ya get a drop of this stuff inta yer system! Celestia knows I could use the business!” he chuckled
“Y’know what, I guess I just might. I always write best when ahm a little tipsy anyway!” I say, casually tossing a few bits onto the counter.
“Oh, so yer an author then? I guess you’ve made a few good yarns huh?”
“Well, ah like to think so.”
“Ha ha! Tell ya what kid, you tell us a good story, and that drink’s on the house!”

Now how could I say no to that? Appleoosa just seemed so warm, so inviting. I could afford to lower my guard for only a few hours right?

“Well, ah suppose I’ve got a few good ‘uns…”

That night plum tuckered me out. Ah had told great yarns about faraway places, quick-drawin’ cowponies, ferocious dragons and fantastical spells. As well as having more drinks than is possible by ponykind, I was offered a free room for the night. In my drunken stupor, I accepted.
The following morning, I woke up with the mother of all headaches. Oh, and surrounded by angry looking ponies.

“Ugh… W-who are you fellers?” I asked, rubbing my head with a hoof.
“Drop the act traitor. We’re here to take you back to the hive.” They spoke as one.

My snapped my eyes open as they dropped their disguises and tried to trap me with magic, but I managed to run away in time. I broke down the door and out into the already crowded bar. The barpony from earlier looked up at me in shock.

“Those dagum changelings are after me! Somepony help me!” I shouted. Mass hysteria took over. After I made it down the stairs, a table was flipped as a group of ponies rushed my hunters. Eventually, complete pandemonium broke out as ponies began suspecting eachother and soon the bar was packed with the sound of hooves colliding, swearing and broken bottles.
I dashed out of the building and looked around for the train station. I bought a ticket and hopped onto the first departing train. I looked at the ticket. Manehattan? Perfect. Like hiding a tree in a forest.