“Remember: don’t stay in bed all morning,” a voice says from the other side of my bedroom door, jarring me awake. I’ve known the voice for months now, and I’m still coming to terms with the fact that it belongs to my adoptive mother. I still can’t believe she’d want to adopt me... “Just because you only have class in the afternoon today doesn’t mean that you can be lazy.”

With a groan, I rise from my desk and peel a sheet of parchment off of my face. I’ve gotta stop falling asleep while working on my enchanting project, or I’m never gonna get it done. Looking down at the diagram of a minotaur’s arm-structure I peeled off of my face, I find myself hoping none of the drool-stained pages were important. At least I managed to fall asleep on them after the ink dried this time.

“I won’t, Cadance,” I reply with a yawn. I glance at the clock. “I wanna talk to Dad before he leaves for work anyway.”

From the other side of the door, I hear a sigh. “Your father had to go in early,” she apologises. “There was an incident with some guards and he was called in.”

Damn.

I know I should be a bit more respectful of her. She did legally adopt me when she married Dad, even though I’m not her foal. She doesn’t necessarily treat me like royalty—Come to think of it, does this make me a princess too?—but she tries to show she cares for my well-being while not being saccharinely condescending.

As the door eases open, I glance over at the intruder. Is it weird that I’m a bit jealous how long and pointy her horn looks compared to mine? Like, I get why Dad likes her; she’s a total babe by all standards. Sure, I’m still growing, but each time I see how pretty Cadance is, I’m reminded of somepony from school who also has a horn like that... and here I am with a smooth, short one.

A flush creeps across my cheeks as she sees I’m at my desk. “You’re just like your aunt when she was your age,” she says. When she laughs, her tri-tone mane falls across her face. “You can’t keep sleeping at your desk, though. You’ll have back problems when you’re older.”

I bob my head in silent agreement and then rise from the cushion by the desk. Arching my back like a cat’s, I sigh in contentment at the popping of my vertebrae. The queasy look on Cadance’s face just makes it extra sweet.

“Have you already had a shower, or should I wait?” I ask, rubbing some crust from the corner of my eye. I stagger tiredly in the direction of the door. “I... um... I wanna look nice today.”

Her eyebrow perks gently at my comment, but she says nothing. Instead, she shakes her head. “Go ahead,” she responds. “I know that to the outside, I’m a princess and need to look my best, but here, in this apartment... we’re equals as far as personal needs go, okay?”

I freeze mid-step and take a bit of a tumble. Is it any surprise that she would catch me with her magic before I eat marble flooring? Maybe not, but it’s still kinda unreal.

“T-thanks,” I murmur, darting off to the bathroom.

I don’t even wait for the water to heat up before diving under the stream of water that I turn on. Anything to destroy any evidence of the tears that were threatening to stain my eyes red. Besides, nothing wakes a pony up like ice-cold water seeping into their coat.

Once I’m thoroughly soaked, I glance around the bathroom, from the open shower to the large bath taking up one side of the room. There’s no toilet in this room because in the castle, all apartments have water-closets off of the bedrooms. I live in the castle...

I still can’t believe that Dad and Cadance took me in when my mother—who gave birth to me and raised me without Father ever knowing—died. It’s just too much to believe that they don’t have ulterior motives... that they don’t want something from me... but Cadance seems like a really sincere pony. Like she means what she says... and that I’m not just a piece of property to her.

Mother never deserved me... I think as I shampoo my mane and coat. But maybe I should be nice to Cady...

My eyes widen at my own thought. I’d just willingly thought of her as something other than the princess or, when I’m feeling unnecessarily catty, Cadance. Maybe it’s okay to let her in...

When I exit the bathroom twenty minutes later, almost as pristine as a princess can get, I find her in the kitchen making breakfast. Why, when we’re living in the castle and can have food brought to us on a whim, I’ll never know. Still, there’s a bowl of oats, bran flakes, and berries at my spot, and she seems to be making something on the stove for herself.

Making my way to the fridge, I levitate a small glass from the cupboard. There’s so much more stuff to choose from here than when I was with my mother... But living hoof-to-mouth will do that to you. Is it any wonder that I’ve developed a taste for healthy, albeit expensive things like the pomegranate juice I end up pouring for myself?

I quietly sit myself down at my spot, but I don’t begin eating until Cadance joins me. I wait until she sets down her plate of Prench toast, as I was raised to. She doesn’t seem to mind that I don’t dig in until she’s already cut and eaten some of her meal.

Yeah, I think it’s time I open up a bit. She’s not my mother. She’s not going to get mad if I ask questions... she’s better than that.

"Mum, how do you tell a pony you like them?" I ask between mouthfuls of berries and oats. There’s no sarcasm in my voice when I say Mum, nor do I cringe at the thought. Surprisingly, it feels right. “Like, how do you tell them you wanna be more than just a friend.”

The question catches Cadance off guard, not just because I've never shown any interest in her love stuff before, but because this is the first time since she adopted me that I've referred to her as my mom. Regardless, her shock is quickly reigned in behind a radiant smile . "Oh? Who's the lucky colt, Penny?" she teases, leaning across the table to watch me squirm. "Is it that cute Strongwind from the hoofball team?"

"Ew, mom! No!" I nearly gag at the thought of dating a colt. "Sure, he's a good guy, but he and Evie have been dating since fourth grade!"

She raises her eyebrow. "If it's not Strong, then who?" She rubs her chin with one hoof. "Your year has the lowest colt to filly ratio in ages, so there's not too man—"

"She's a filly from my class, okay!?" I blurt out, unable to take any more boy talk. Besides, this’ll tell me for sure how tolerant she is. Last time I implied I was abnormal to my mother, she slapped me. With a paddle.

Cadance, on the other hoof, doesn’t seem fazed by it at all. A gentle smile overtakes her face and her eyes soften. “Tell me about her.”

"She's kinda mean, always picking on me or the foreign exchange fillies from Neighpon, but she's cool, she's smart, she's popular... really pretty...” I sigh, which makes Cadance’s smile widen. “But she never seems happy, despite all the ponies who suck up to her."

With a thoughtful expression, she rises from her seat and comes around the table, placing a wing around me. “It sounds like you have a firm grasp of the feelings you have for this filly,” she says, pulling me close. I don’t know why wing-y ponies like pegasi and alicorns are like this, but these warm, fluffy hugs are pretty amazing. “Is this what you wanted to ask your father about? Hoping to find out how to work up the courage to ask her?”

I look away and make a weak attempt to remove myself from her hug; I don’t want her to feel the shivers that threaten to turn me into a trembling mess. “Nuh-uh,” I murmur. “It’s weird... Whenever she’s around me I get this really bad feeling... Like I’m in a nightmare I can’t wake from...”

For a moment, the world around me changes. I’m in a small room instead of the apartment, and there’s a big red stallion looming over me. My body hurts all over and in awful places where nopony’s ever supposed to touch me.

The filly I like isn’t like that, though.

We’re not the only ponies there, though. One of the foreign exchange fillies... a pale, almost porcelain pony... She’s tied up and she looks so scared; my heart aches when I look at her, but I don’t know why.

The filly... fillies can’t do that to other fillies... right?

With the blink of an eye, I’m on my side in the middle of the floor. The oats and juice I’d eaten so far were spilled all over the marble tile. I’m just lying there, clutching my stomach and sobbing.

As Cadance appears in my field of vision, so too do many others. They look like EMTs. She looks visibly disturbed, but for some reason, I can’t hear her as she speaks to the medical ponies. All I hear is my heartbeat in my ears.

Why do I taste blood though?

I look down at the puddle of sick in front of me. There, among the oats and juice... is a good chunk of my tongue. I open my mouth to scream, only to choke on a mouthful of blood.

Is this how I die? Choking on my own blood? I ponder as the edges of my vision begin to fade away. Why did I bite off my tongue? What was that... Why...

“Be at ease, young Penny.” It’s Princess Luna’s voice! “You aren’t dying. Your mind is attempting to stitch itself together in lack of many of your memories and has constructed a nightmare.”

The world around me fades away, and I find myself lying in the void. That’s right... I did something. Something Book didn’t approve of... but what?

“I get the whole thing with Mum,” I say aloud once I realize I have my tongue again. I blink and then cringe once it hits me that I just called Cadance my mother. “Princess Cadance. I get the whole thing with her, but... where the fuck did that imagery come from? It almost felt real...”

Princess Luna doesn’t answer. The look on her face tells it all. She’s just as dumbfounded as I am. After all, I barely know who the red pony was, and so far as I know, I’ve never met a porcelain white pony like that.. yet the face felt somehow familiar. Why do I feel like I know them both, and what is this gut-wrenching pain I feel because of it?

I want to wake up now...

~ 10 ~

With a yawn some might consider too big for my tiny form, I crack open eyes and look around. Pale green walls, life support equipment hooked up to me... antiseptic smell. I’m in a hospital again... This is like some big cosmic joke.

Even though the rational part of me instinctively knows I’m in a hospital and why, there’s something new in me... somepony new. That pony is me, but not the me I remember. She... I’m scared because I’m in an unfamiliar place, alone, on life support, and only the vaguest idea of how I got here. Like a foal.

Think, Penny, think, I ponder to myself. What did the princess say?

While I wrack my brain for the answer, I hear somepony at the door. In a way, I suppose the question answers itself. As the door swings open, I see the very familiar looking white mare wearing a nurse’s cap over her light pink mane. I... the new me doesn’t recognize the mare, but a name floats to the forefront of my mind. Redheart.

With that name, comes a place and a sense of dread. Ponyville.

The nurse comes in, but she doesn’t seem to notice the narrow slits of my open eyes. She just looks over my IV lines, presses a hoof against my forehead—is she taking my temperature or trying to wake me?—and then I feel a pressure against the base of my horn.

Unable to resist the sudden need to look, I open my eyes and cross them upward. It’s mostly outside my field of vision because of the curvature of the pony skull, but there’s just barely a visible band of blackness at the base. The feeling of being cut off from all of my magic and dropping like a sack of rocks rushes to the forefront of my mind.

Twilight’s magic suppressor. That’s right; I started to surge back in Canterlot and was doing real damage to my mana pathways. Surprised they weren’t torn to shit by how much I’ve been abusing them lately.

“It’s good to see that you’re finally awake,” she says upon noticing my open eyes. Her smile puts me at ease. “We were almost ready to start an office pool on how long it would take for you to wake up.”

I cock my head slightly and grin. “How long was I out?” Although I’m a hoarse little horse, something about my voice seems off. It’s... softer—higher, even.

Redheart moves to the foot of the bed and lifts out the chart. “Two weeks, five days,” she answers, reading from it. “You were admitted on the First of October.” Her smile falters, but she perks back up almost immediately. “I’m Nurse Redheart, by the way.”

Mentally, I run the numbers. Two weeks, five days... That’s nineteen. That makes today... I flinch. The 20th.

She must’ve seen me flinch. Before I can respond or even say something, she’s right in my face again. “Are you in pain?” she asks in concern. “Be honest. Your aetheric system has been under a lot of stress for months, and you’ve developed a reservoir of magic most adult unicorns would be jealous of. We have no idea what it means for your body, so we need to know immediately if you are in pain.”

I blink at her. My reservoir? But when Twilight ran a check-up just a few months ago, I was merely above foal average... Is my near-burnout methodology really having that much of an effect? Or is it the way I’ve been absorbing ambient magic and converting it?

Then again, the princesses are in Canterlot; if I was unknowningly absorbing residual energy from their spells, I’ve probably been pumping some high-density stuff through my system. Celestia only knows what that all means for me, but it sounds like I need some sort of limiter for my own safety... and to stop burning myself out like an idiot.

“No ma’am,” I answer in a small voice when I realize I ignored her question in favor of introspection. “I was just alarmed at how long I’ve been out. Is today really the twentieth?”

She nods. “Your birthday is tomorrow, is it not?” Inwardly, I curse. Sure, there’s some excitement, but I think that’s just the other me I seem to be sharing my mind with. “Most... ponies who fall into your size category would be excited, but you look apathetic at best, and perturbed at worst.”

I return her nod and look away. “I’m pretty sure nopony knows, and... I’d rather keep it that way for now.” I decide not to mention my birthday plans involved going into the Everfree for the entirety of the day, just to be alone. Sighing, I attempt to sit upright, but my muscles don’t want to work.

Gotta give Redheart credit. Now that she knows I’m awake, she’s a lot more observant of my actions. As soon as she catches me try and fail to sit up, she eases me upright. “Easy, Silver Penny.” She reaches over to the bedside table for a glass of water and brings it to my lips. “You’ll probably be weak for a few days. You shouldn’t have any loss of muscle mass, but even with stimulation of the muscles, there’s to be the expectation of some weakness.”

Flicking my eye down to one of my hooves, just hanging limply at my side, I frown. If I try hard enough, I can bring it to twitch, but it’s tiring. At best, it makes my stomach rumble something fierce.

“Now that you’re awake, we can start you on solid food,” she says with a smile once more. “I’ll bring you some food later.”

“Okay,” I say tiredly. Without my magic, I feel way too worn out. “Weird question, but where’s my hammer? I’d feel safer with it nearby.”

Redheart frowns, but makes no movement. “Your belongings have been left in the care of your guardian. For now, certain concerned parties must be notified that you’ve regained consciousness.”

I raise an eyebrow at the word party. Would I have to worry about a certain pink menace, or does she hate me like the rest of the town probably does? Bleh. Knowing her, she’ll know about my birthday and throw me a party regardless of what I did.

Easing me back into a resting posture, she gently pats the top of my head. “Just rest up for now,” she instructs. “Once you’re cleared by the doctor, we can remove the suppressor and get you fitted for a limiter instead. I imagine you’ll feel much better then.”

~ 10 ~

Evidently, despite how peaceful it is, Ponyville makes heavy use of its hospital. In addition to having a sizable mental health ward—I blame the pink menace—ponies come and go with surprising frequency. Maybe there’s a flu epidemic or something; it is October, after all.

“How would you know about the mental health ward?” one might ask. The thing is that when you’re sitting there for hours, too weak to move because the suppressor on your horn makes it difficult to get magic anywhere but your core, you use whatever reading material you have on hoof to keep yourself entertained.

In this case, there’s a detailed map of the building by the door. It’s there to tell you both where you are and inform you of your escape route in the event of an emergency. Fascinating stuff, but it’s really difficult to read from afar. I’m ashamed to admit I might have given myself a headache from eye strain.

Once I’d had enough of the map, I moved on to window gazing. Knowing that I was in the front part of the building, I managed to turn my head enough to watch the comings and goings of guests. There was a lot of them, to say the least.

The doctor, the very same unicorn I bit when I was Lyra—I still say I’m not a tumor—doesn’t show up until feeding time at the zoo Redheart arrives with food in the evening. Redheart must’ve done her homework—or asked Twilight what would make me behave—because I’m too enamored with the offering of a tuna sandwich to be ornery with the stallion.

To be honest, I don’t think he’s made the link between me and the hitchhiker in Lyra’s brain that bit him. As Redheart helps me eat my sandwich, he keeps a polite running dialogue going that, while clearly geared for somepony closer to Sweetie Belle’s age, puts me at ease while he works. He just checks me over from the bedside while Redheart feeds me.

In spite of the things I did, I’m here being treated like a normal filly.

It’s... nice.

“Alright, Penny, so far you’ve recovered quite nicely,” the amber stallion says. “Let’s get that suppressor band off your horn.”

He’s gentle when he touches the obsidian band around my horn. With just a nudge, a paresthesic prickle spreads across my body. A few centimeters more, and it’s like a tide of energy rushing back in to fill an enormous gap. It takes my breath away, and for a moment, I choke on the food.

The coughing fit that follows is enough for me to jerk my horn the rest of the way out of black ring, launching it across the room. Thankfully, Redheart’s there to smack me on the back a couple of times before I get the idea in my head to try and clear my airway with telekinesis.

“Feels better, doesn’t it?” he says with a soft smile. “Never met a filly who likes being banded like that.”

Even as he levitates—seemingly from the void—another magical instrument that seems to have some kind of horn receptacle, I glare at him. “Does the sentence, ‘I am not a fucking tumor,’ ring a bell, Doc?” I ask in a venomously sweet tone. I can’t imagine it sounds too menacing given the strange highness in my voice, but then again, I don’t exactly know why I feel the need to say it in the first place. ”‘cause I remember you.”

The doctor goes rigid at my words, and he edges away from the bed so that his body is just out of biting range. Even Nurse Redheart looks alarmed at my statement. Did... did they really not know who I am?

“Relax, I’m not going to bite you again,” I say in a far less aggressive tone. For some reason the sudden change in my tone doesn’t seem to put them at ease. On the contrary, they seem to be even more on guard.

I feel much more energetic without the suppressor. Warmth rushes through my body as my aetheric furnace once again begins cycling external magic through my core and converting it to magic. I feel right.

With my own two hooves, I seize the sandwich from the nurse and begin to feast. All the while, the two just continue to stare at me.

“You do know I’m not the same pony I was when I occupied Lyra’s body, right?” I ask, lying back onto the bed as I stuff the rest of the sandwich into my mouth. “Ask Au—” Damn it, brain; not now! “Ask Twilight. We’re cool.”

A gentle crack, like the snap of fingers, echoes in my ears, and a bright flash fills my vision.

When the brightness fades, several things hit me all at once. First, I’m not in the hospital bed; I’m somewhere outside on the side of Ponyville nearest the Everfree. As if that’s not strange enough, I’m being held roughly by the scruff of my neck.

The next thing I notice is that whoever is holding me has me in front of Twilight, Fluttershy, and the rest of their friends. If it weren’t for how disoriented I feel, I’d even be concerned with the mixed looks of fear, alarm and rage on their faces, because some of those aren’t from who you might expect.

Lastly, there’s this ungodly powerful feeling of... eldritch power surrounding me. If the changeling magic felt wrong, this is wrong to the power of infinity divided by zero plus infinity squared. My entire body screams in silent pain out at the touch, as though it’s the antithesis to everything my body thinks it represents. Of course, it might have something to do with the fact that my body’s trying to restock my magic reserves with whatever it can get its hooves on, and doesn’t know how to cope with this... aberration.

“You know what else is adorable?” comes the silky smooth voice my mind has associated with John de Lancie. “You ponies truly believe you can reform me when you haven’t even fully reigned in this wonderful little abomination.”

Oh Celestia, no! The memory of Twilight and her friends, corrupted and defeated floats unbidden to forefront of my mind. A shiver wracks my body at the thought of what could happen to me.

To my surprise—or is it relief?—Twilight comes to my defense. “Penny may be a lot of things, but she’s no abomination!”

Off to the side, from a certain rainbow-maned loyalty horse, there’s a soft laugh, followed by a muttered, “She kinda is.” This of course is followed by a yelp of pain as somepony smacks her with their tail. “Ow!”

There’s a snort of laughter. “And you’re putting your faith in this one here—” The yellow pegasus flinches at this. “—to make it happen.”

I begin to tremble. This isn’t happening. “No touch... bad touch...” I whisper. My breathing picks up in pace, but becomes shallow. This isn’t real. Just let me go and pretend I don’t exist. “No touch... bad touch...”

“Makes me want to pinch your little horsey cheeks,” says the being that could only be Discord. The grip at the nape of my neck isn’t released, but I’m turned to face him, in all his mismatched, asymmetrical glory. With both his lion paw and his eagle claw, he grabs my cheeks and squeezes gently. How in the fuck...? “Aren’t you an adorable human? Who’s a good human? Is it you?”

“No touch!” I scream. I won’t let him fuck with my mind or my personal space. I won’t allow it. “BAD TOUCH!”

At the same moment that I chomp down on the lion paw, Twilight yells out, “Penny, no!”

Author's Note

Thanks go out to Shachza for being finding the time to go over this.