White Lies

The pale moonlight seeping through the curtains flickered. My eyes shot open: somepony or, more likely, somebody was at the balcony to my hotel. Not the sneakiest, I'd say; my bedroom was on the sixth floor.

A shadow hoof knocked against the window. Three times. I slid the sleek sheets off and opened the nearby drawer.

"It's me, Sveet Tooth. Wake up!" a muffled voice called.

That's literally what a Changeling would say. But then again she did knock. As far as I know Changelings don't know common courtesy. I released my grip on the pistol.

"What is she doing up this late at night?"

Rubbing the crust out my eyes, I begrudgingly pulled myself out of the warm pit and closed the drawer. The bright moonlight turned off like a lamp as Sweet Tooth's shadow engulfed the room. Hopping over some discarded shirts, my magic beat me to the curtain as it separated the two drapes.

Sweet Tooth's face and stomach were completely black, unrecognizable, but I could see the light resting on her back; I still had to shield my eyes with a hoof as my magic gripped the glass door to the balcony. Her wings mimicked tree limbs in my room, the flickering was awful in the corner. Sweet Tooth knocked one final time, and cool winds seeped into my room. A shiver ran down my spine.

"Vhat a mess," she began, "You should spend some time liberating your room, zen you can start sinking about liberating zhe whole city!"

Well, that stung. The room was incredibly messy, but I had been focused on more pressing matters. Such as liberating the whole city.

"Perhaps you would like to help me clean up?"

"Nein, I brought bad news." Her head lowered, then raised again with her asking, "May I come in? It's chilly out here."

Bad news? At this hour, at this time of night? It must have been the Changelings. More than likely their retaliation against Shattered Shield's—wait! How can I be so rude to a guest? Especially if something is on her mind; what has this war done to me?

"Please, mon amie, come in! I am so sorry."

Her hooves touched down against the carpet wherever any holes between the shirts were. She was wearing a black eyepatch over her scarred eye. Why? Bright moonlight attacked my eyes, forcing me to shut them tight as I quickly slammed the windows close and covered it with drapes. Gone was the evil. The chilling wind, the bright moonlight; it was all gone, and there was nothing for me to fear now.

"Come, Sweet Tooth, let us go somewhere cleaner, then I'll be asking you about that eye of yours."

Sweet Tooth sighed, saying, "In due time, after ve sit down."

I nodded, trotting past her and pushing the door open. She complimented the many landscape painting in my hallway as we turned right into the living room. Bracing my eyes, I flicked those lights on and trotted toward the center of the room to my green couch. I hate those lights, I couldn't trust them. No need to get the remote off the coffee table, most of the shows were blacklisted or Changling propaganda or news, anyway.

Sweet Tooth hopped onto the other end of the couch. She was looking around the room, analyzing it.

"So, Sweet Tooth, what 'appened to your eye?"

Her head snapped to me. Sweet Tooth's hoof raised and rubbed the back of her neck, she looked away.

"A result from vhat I came here to tell you, unfortunately," she began. Sweet Tooth's face was weighed down, her expression depressed. "Gold and I vere at a Vatcher's Nest about an hour ago. I'll be zhe first to admit: ve vere secretly planning a raid on zhe eastern radio station vith zhe communists."

Planning a raid solely with the communist ponies, who's side were Gold and Sweet Tooth on? It's one thing we can't trust those impulsive communist ponies, but now we can't trust our leaders to stay on the right side? The communists want to liberate Canterlot for Stalliongrad, but they had to join us to strengthen the resistance and to prevent any inward fighting amongst ponies. Both nations were in the same faction, but their end goals were completely different. Who knows what type of "gang wars" would occur after we succeed?

"Zen, bullets shot srou zhe single vindow in seh room. Glass vent everyvhere, and I, for zhe embarrassing reason of being lazy, happened to be lying on my back under zhat very vindow. Glass shards vent right into my bad eye. Zhe pain vas excruciating. A few ponies flipped over and hid behind zhe vooden table—zose who vere too slow vere killed on zhe spot. A few tried firing back, but only zhe ones who fled zhe room survived. I fled, but Gold," she paused to sigh, then said, "He chose to fire back."

An encrypted sentence.

"Don't tell me 'e is dead? Is 'e?"

She gave one, slow nod.

My head drooped. Gold was a good pony who fought for a cause greater than his wealth. Many ponies adored him even though he was a noble, something not common in today's time. He was an expert mediator between the communists and harmony fighters, but I suppose that's because he was a communist sympathizer. That's neither here nor there, the matter on hoof is the fact I have another commie sympathizer right in front of me. One that has infiltrated the resistance high-command pretending to be a harmony fighter; like a Changeling would.

Still, though, she was to an extent my friend, and she clearly was in distress. I would relieve that distress before trying to bring her back to the light.

"Would you like something to drink, mon amie, it'll 'elp ease the pain."

Her head shot up, an eerie smile crept onto her face. "Please, if it vouldn't be too much of an inconvenience."

"Nonsense! I am here to help."

I hopped off the couch and entered the kitchen across the hallway. At least this place was spotless; I enjoyed cooking. It is too late for red wine, but I did have a final box of that terrible tea. I'm not going to drink it, so I suppose Sweet Tooth can help me with that. Now I have to flick on another light; the kitchen one. Bright lights hurt my covered eyes even after I braced them. I seriously could not trust the light.

It was incredibly quiet; splashing tea echoed throughout the silent apartment, combating the faint shots that could be heard in the distance.

My magic pulled the single cup of tea near my head. A slender strand of smoke protruded out the cup, leaving a trail to my kitchen as I re-entered the living room.

Sweet Tooth's head nor back was there, perhaps she was lying down. I trotted around my side of the couch and set the cup of tea beside her eyepatch—her eyepatch? She was not on the couch.

"Sweet Tooth? Where 'ave you gone?"

I turned around and a pink blur headbutted my muzzle. The pain had to of been excruciating for my body, but it was already numb. I fell backward onto my flank, grasping my muzzle as it bled. The pink blur bashed into me, slamming us against the ground and knocking the wind out of my lungs.

It had the look of Sweet Tooth, except without her scar.

"Death to the resistance!" the Changeling said, its pink hooves raising a knife high in the sky. Bits of artificial light reflected off the blade and into my eyes. Who is my enemy? The Changelings or the light? The pain in my muzzle no longer rendered in my mind as adrenaline rushed into my brain. My hooves shot up and stopped the knife from coming down on me.

A lavender glow mixed with the golden surroundings. I would have to end him quickly; I needed to get to a Watcher Nest immediately! A lavender trail snaked its way swiftly to the coffee table and grabbed the still-hot tea. The Changeling noticed, but its body had no horn. A loud buzz flickered my ears as the Changeling slowly switched to its chitin form. Unlucky for it, it had started from the legs to the head. Plentiful time to splash him with steaming tea.

I love tea.

It screamed, dropping the knife dangerously close to my face as it fell onto its back, clawing at its face desperately trying to wipe the tea off. I pushed myself up as my magic grabbed the knife. It was squirming in place, just like larva. Its body glowed lavender and its squirming ceased.

Orange blood went everywhere as another hole was added to its body.

I would clean this mess up later. Dropping the knife and sliding into the hallway, I bolted down the steps to the first floor. Out onto the street, I pretended to be a Changeling as I took longer routes around every streetlight I came across. I could not trust the light. I did not live far from the Watcher Nest, but who knows how much time I had left before another raid occurs.

Was that Changeling's story entirely fabricated? Where is the real Sweet Tooth? Perhaps the raid did occur and Sweet Tooth had died alongside Gold. If everypony had died as the Changeling had said, then how did they find out I was a resistance leader? How did they know where a Watcher Nest was and how did they find out it existed? Maybe a resistance member was captured and tortured for information and that's how they discovered the nest and my secret job.

Maybe a Changeling had already infiltrated the resistance leaders long ago. Perhaps the communists, or perhaps Gold. He had no scars and barely contributed to the planning sessions, he was only there because we needed all the money we could get. No wonder he was such a bizarre and friendly noble: he was listening, and if the Changeling said he had died, then that means his job is done and he rejoined with his filthy kind.

I will kill that Changeling. I will find him and kill him in the most gruesome way possible.