The Immortal Dream

The filly's vision returned in a beige haze. Had she been sleeping? No, she was fairly sure she was fleeing something. Her legs were still struggling to move, which was how she realized she was strapped to a table.

"Panic response," said a pony with something very wrong with their appearance, a bright light glowing on their forehead. "This is a very consistent pattern..."

"Well?" another pony asked, this one sporting a funny nose and far too many teeth. "Satisfied this time?"

A third pony walked up, a stallion with eyes that were too wide. "Hmm..."

"I would encourage you not to be picky, Your Highness," said a fourth pony, this one also wrong in ways the filly couldn't place. "Her body is running out of stamina. It's already a miracle you've found someone willing and able to heal her as much as we can, and if you press your luck we can't guarantee that you won't be left with nothing."

Actually, most of these ponies' eyes were too wide, with the exception of the one with too many teeth. "Nngh..." the filly groaned, words forming unbidden in a language she wasn't sure why she remembered. "Where am I...?"

The third pony scrutinized her, rubbing his chin with an appendage that went where a wing should have gone, but was covered in a weird, fluffy material made of dozens of soft, straight blades. "You keep getting her wrong, though at least this time she has a nice voice... Suppose I hold your end of the deal fulfilled on a provisional basis, take her now and give you your promised payment. You'd be willing to continue working on her later out of a debt of gratitude, wouldn't you? Once she's no longer 'running out of stamina' for your treatments?"

Several weird ponies looked to the one with too many teeth. Despite that one's monstrous appearance, the filly felt drawn to her, somehow. Maybe it was because she was the only one whose eyes weren't wrong.

She sniffed disdainfully. "Career royalty like you can't ever be satisfied when you've had your share, can you? Fine. Take your 'debt of gratitude'."

"You make it sound like the opportunity I provide for you isn't the most generous in the Empire," the third pony replied, a tone to his voice that made the filly want to flee. Everything about this made her want to flee. She had been fleeing before she even woke up, she was sure of it. What she didn't know was where she was going... or what would happen to her if she couldn't get there.

"Where am I?" she pleaded again. "Who are you?"

"You are in Everlaste Palace, the new seat of power of the Griffon Empire," explained one of the weird ponies, the one with the glowing thing on his forehead. "The year is nine hundred eighty-five, and we are doctors researching a cure for a calamitous plague that swept the land several months ago. You are one of our first trial patients."

"A plague?" the filly asked. Her brain felt oiled, like her thoughts were sliding around and hard to work with. And she was hungry. So terribly, terribly hungry.

The weird doctor nodded. "The details would only disturb you. For now, why not be feel glad to be alive and leave it at that, hmm?"

The filly's legs were still trying to flee. "I'm tied up..."

"Sounds like we're calling it good enough!" said the third pony, the stallion with the strange wings. "Now, might I get better acquainted with the particulars of what I've settled for? In private. You all will have your reward."

"...No," said the pony with too many teeth, her voice like sticky tar. "She's conscious, not healed. We will look after her. Until she is well enough to understand what you want with her."

The third pony looked skeptical, though it was hard for the filly to read expressions right with his strange, wide eyes. "These weren't our terms. I trust you'll make it worthwhile for me to accept this modification to the deal? I've been... missing her."

"Were you satisfied with her appearance, or weren't you?" The mare with too many teeth stared him down. "Be more patient."

"Mmm..." The third pony contemplated this. "More time, and you get her all the way perfect? Shake on it?" He proffered a hoof.

The mare with too many teeth looked disgusted by the gesture. "One of you, accept in my stead," she commanded, nodding stiffly at the weird doctors. "I don't have biohazard boots on."

The one who had been talking to the filly obliged.

"Heh," the third pony chuckled. "For a provincial nobody, you sure have the high-and-mighty attitude down pat. That would serve you well in court... if you were someone like me. Too bad your job will be making babies and little else."

As he strolled out the door, the others exchanged looks behind his back.

That urge to flee was still there. "Please let me go," the filly asked again. "I need to get out of here."

The mare with too many teeth stepped forward, motioning with a wing for the weird doctors to step back - the same kind of strange, soft wing the stallion who just left had possessed. She loomed over the filly, something magnetic about her that made it impossible to look anywhere else.

And then she leaned in and started undoing the straps that bound her to the table.

As soon as the last one broke, the filly half-slid, half-fell to the floor. Her legs felt gangly and unwieldy, her body didn't move the way she expected it to, and something about her barrel was wrong, but she managed to get upright... and then collapsed again after three steps, brought down by a combination of loose, frantic coordination, tripping on her mane and another sudden pang of hunger.

The mare with too many teeth was there again, standing over her as she curled up on the floor. Too hungry... Desperation born of hunger was flooding her thoughts. She was no longer restrained, and yet still couldn't move.

The mare's cold green eyes bored into the filly, and the filly looked up, nothing left to do but trust in fate for her salvation.

"Until a moment ago, you were dead," said the mare. "I changed that, to an extent. You might not thank me. Life despises you. Your lot in it is a cruel joke. You aren't even yourself anymore. All you have to look forward to is being used as a toy by the powers that be. There is no room to hope for anything else. But if you still want to survive, I am your only chance. Come."

The pull of her aura was almost strong enough to lift the filly back onto her hooves. "Can I have some food?"

"Go get her some food," the mare commanded one of the doctors with a nod. Then she lifted the filly back to her hooves by the scruff of her neck, biting gently with her many, many teeth.

Lyantra.

That, they told the filly, was her name.

It didn't resonate with her in the way that a name probably should. But after carrying her one room over, they gave her food, and so she ate until her stomach hurt and then ate some more, too hungry to wait for the nutrients to hit her blood stream.

"Who are you?" she asked when she was certain she couldn't take another bite, her body fitting just as weirdly as ever as all the ponies looked around her. Not one of the ones she had seen felt normal.

"Garnet," grunted the mare with too many teeth. This new room had a window, pouring in light that was harsh and bright - unnaturally so, almost. Garnet was sitting with her back to it, flicking a strange tail that was long and thin and only had hair on the very end. In the background, several doctors were making scratching noises against strange thin tablets with short black spikes.

Garnet didn't seem to enjoy talking. Lyantra could understand that. It didn't feel safe to talk. But it didn't feel safe here in general. Nothing made sense, all of her expectations were wrong, and she was starting to feel like it was impossible to measure how much more everyone else knew than she did, let alone why. The only way she could learn was to ask. So she did.

"What's wrong with the light?" Lyantra asked, her body feeling vaguely like it was swimming.

"What?" Garnet grunted, clearly not understanding her question. More scribbling from the doctors.

"The light from the window," Lyantra elaborated. "What's wrong with it?"

Garnet looked at her, confused and passingly concerned. "Nothing. It's the same as it always is. Is your vision not connected right?"

Lyantra struggled to her hooves, walking slowly and deliberately up to the window - it was possible, with time and focus, but she felt like she was walking on stilts that weren't properly strapped on. Maybe if she saw it up close, she could point it out...

The sky was blue. A ceilingless void so big and empty that she almost lost her balance looking at it. And in the middle was a light so bright and piercing that it physically stabbed her when she looked at it, and she did fall over, her vision swimming. She couldn't find anything to say to an experience like that.

"...Hmm," Garnet said, looking down at her. "Once you're less emaciated, I'll put you to work lifting something. Your muscle tone is atrocious."

Was it? Maybe that was why her body felt so bad. Lyantra looked at her legs, thin and lanky compared to Garnet's. "I'd like to be stronger," she said, especially if it meant feeling comfortable again in her own fur.

Garnet's gaze shifted to the abandoned table. "Are you done eating?"

"I don't know," Lyantra said. "My stomach can't hold any more. But I'm still hungry."

"You're emaciated," Garnet corrected. "It could take weeks before you stop feeling hungry."

"Weeks?" Lyantra asked.

"Weeks."

Scratch scratch scratch.

Lyantra knew what time was. It was instinctive; she could feel it passing as events in the past gave way to events in the present. She was no longer strapped to the table, where she had been. She wouldn't be in this new room forever. But she had no way to contextualize how long weeks would be, or how to get there from here. What she wanted was for her stomach to stop hurting and her body to feel less hollow and more connected.

"What are you?" Lyantra asked, another pressing question taking advantage of her confusion to bubble to the surface. "Why do you look different from me?"

"I'm a sphinx," Garnet curtly explained. "You're a sarosian."

Lyantra tilted her head. "What does that mean?"

Garnet snapped her tail. A doctor left, and soon returned with a silvery hoof mirror, offering it to her. For the first time, Lyantra got a good look at herself.

Wine red coat, with a too-long pale pink mane. Her eyes looked the way they were supposed to, and so did her wings, bare and leathery with several spokes under the membrane that could spread out to extend them. Her teeth were normal. So were her ears, which she realized had been one of the wrong parts about all the other ponies. Garnet's, for example, were round.

She looked... kind of bad. Her coat was unwashed, and now that she was cognizant of it, her mane and tail were triple the length she would normally consider unwieldy. Her legs seemed too long for the rest of her body, though without them, she'd be much smaller than Garnet... and she had eaten so much that her stomach visibly protruded on the bottom of her barrel. Maybe that was part of why she felt so weird.

Despite all the things that were slightly off or unusual, though, at her core this felt familiar. She was pretty sure that this reflection was what ponies were supposed to look like.

The doctor watched for an indication that she had seen enough.

"So," Lyantra asked, turning back to look at Garnet. "Your teeth are different because you're a sphinx?"

"And my wings," Garnet grunted. "Ears. Tail."

"Size?" Lyantra guessed.

"No." Garnet shook her head. "That's because I'm thrice your age."

Lyantra frowned. How did you measure a pony's age, again...? And was it different for normal ponies and sphinxes?

"You're a child," Garnet clarified. "I'm an adult."

That didn't help.

Scratch scratch scratch.

"You don't sound like you enjoy answering my questions," Lyantra observed, testing the ground. She felt a sense of inevitability around the sphinx, like she was stuck with her whether she liked it or not, even if this didn't feel as safe as... Well, she wasn't sure. At this point, this probably was the safest place for her after all.

"I don't," Garnet said, ambivalent and curt. "But for some reason, you keep asking me instead of anyone else."

Lyantra blinked. There were the doctors, sure, but... something about this 'sphinx' drew her to her. Probably because they at least had proper eyes in common.

"Why are you here?" Lyantra asked. "Where are we, anyway?"

Garnet sighed. "Right now, we're here to heal you from being worse than dead. Is that enough, or do you need every detail of my personal life explaining how I found myself in this situation...?"

"N-No." Lyantra felt a growing sensation that she was crossing an invisible line. So she stopped talking and waited for someone else to start something, instead.

Lyantra discovered what days were.

She learned that the light in the sky that attacked her eyes was called the 'sun', and there was an opposite version called the 'moon' that was much easier and more natural to look at. The sun was so bright that it was responsible for the wrong way the window had looked. When it traded places with the moon, there was still an unsettling void in the sky, but she could look out the window without needing to remember not to look up.

The time when the sun was in the sky was called 'day', and when the moon was there, it was 'night'. This was how time was tracked. She felt like it wasn't supposed to work this way, but for the life of her, she couldn't think of an alternative.

Garnet and the weird doctors cared for her, at least one watching her at all times and Garnet showing up whenever something slightly more interesting was happening. Lyantra was able to eat again several times a day, and as she kept doing it, the weakness and wrongness plaguing her body gradually began to subside. The biggest difference came when they cut her mane and tail, snipping them shorter without asking her how short she wanted. She could lift her head so much easier, it almost made her want to see if her body would work well enough to use her wings for flying.

As her strength and coordination returned, though, Garnet started asking her to do things in return, taking her through a long series of corridors and putting her to work. Move these boxes. Straighten this rug. Take these things out and put them on this shelf. They all felt like weird, meaningless tasks - the room she slept in was nice and sparse, just natural beige stone that felt cool and familiar against her hooves. But the collection of rooms where Garnet had her work felt like they were filled with stuff for the sake of being filled with stuff.

Still, she liked having more to do than sit in her room and look out the window, trying not to get blinded by the sun. She liked the feeling of being able to do more as she got stronger, and to feel her strength returning. The doctors had told her that using her strength would help it grow, and so she put everything into her work, testing and measuring herself.

The doctors were measuring her, too.

One evening, when she was resting after work, the door swung open. Nobody here bothered to knock. She wasn't sure if the doctors knew how. But she really wished they would, especially when bringing in ponies she wasn't as familiar with.

This time, their guest was the unsettling stallion who was there when she woke up.

"There she is!" he proclaimed, zeroing in on the bed where she was resting. "How's my precious little gremlin healing up? I've been dreaming about you all week long, you know."

"I'm... getting better," Lyantra said, not sure whether she should be talking to him or not. But a pair of doctors had escorted him in...

"Hmm." The stallion scratched his chin with one of his weird wings. "They keep saying your memory hasn't come back. So it's true, eh? Pity. I really miss that cute flinch you used to do, the one where only one ear goes back, you know?"

No, Lyantra didn't know. And she didn't know how to respond to that, either.

"Still gotta work on that appearance, too," the stallion told her. "Your body's not bad, though even with a dye job you really need to lose some chub. And you're a bit too tall for my tastes. And the facial structure, mmm... It's just not quite there yet. Something about the jaw, I think. But keep it up! I brought you a little present to help jog your memory!"

Lyantra really didn't like him. "Who are you?" she asked, burrowing backwards into her thin blanket.

The stallion flashed a crass grin and winked. "The name's Makalov. Prince Makalov. I'm the one footing the bill for putting you back together, and the one who kept your body from running off while you were afflicted so there was anything to fix at all. Yes, that means you owe me. Keep healing up so you'll be perfect when it's time to collect my gratitude, alright?"

Lyantra shrank further into her bed. "I'm trying to rest right now, actually."

"Good, good. Good! Perfect." Makalov dropped a small package by the door, then retreated with a bow. "See you again soon, gremlin!"

He didn't close the door on his way out, but one of the doctors got it as they accompanied him. Lyantra didn't come out from her bedding.

She preferred Garnet. The doctors were strange and didn't really act like ponies. Makalov was scary. Of the three, Garnet was probably the best. But, maybe she just felt that way because Garnet wasn't there right now.

Lyantra closed her eyes and tried to pretend the world didn't exist as she fell asleep.

Makalov's gift turned out to be a collar and a leash.

The collar was embroidered with an alternating pattern of pink and blue hearts, and looked well-worn. Lyantra didn't want to wear it, and thankfully, the doctors respected her wishes.

The next day, she went to work for Garnet again, rebuilding her strength by hauling things around and continuing to set up the suite of chambers she had been working in. After this many days, her work was building up on itself; even though she preferred the plain stone, she had to admit that everything she had done felt pretty nice when taken all together.

This time, Garnet had her unpacking dresses from a box, carefully straightening them and hanging them in a large, walk-in closet. Lyantra paid just as much attention to the sphinx as her work: Garnet was crabby and mean, but she still felt like the most approachable pony she had met so far. And her old urge to flee hadn't disappeared, especially since meeting Makalov again.

She needed someone who would help her. And she didn't know any other way than to ask.

"Hey," she said, Garnet standing nearby and supervising. "I'm sort of feeling better, in places."

"Good," Garnet grunted. "Because we're starting the next round of treatments tonight."

"You mean to fix my memories?" Lyantra asked. "Or my appearance? Makalov told me about that yesterday. He said he wanted to fix me, and that should be good, but he doesn't seem like he's good."

"He isn't," Garnet told her. "Most people aren't. I'm not, and you won't be either if you ever get to make a meaningful choice with your life."

"Then why does he want to heal me?" Lyantra asked.

Garnet took a deep breath and sighed. "You're Makalov's toy. He owns you. What he wants is neither here nor there, because he can do anything. And there's nothing you can do about it."

Lyantra blinked. "Anything? Why? What does he want me for? Is this why I can't run away?"

"Anything," Garnet said. "Why? Because that's how power works. Don't like it? Tough. Should have been born with a better lot in life..."

"So why don't you do something about it?" Lyantra asked. "The doctors told me sphinxes are important, right?"

Garnet shook her head. "We're not doing this for his payment. You presented an ideal candidate for a series of experiments I need to run. He's part of the experiments too, not that he realizes it. And the integrity of the results is a lot more important than one filly's comfort."

Lyantra's heart sank. "But... what's going to happen to me?"

"For now," Garnet told her, "you're going to keep unpacking dresses. And tonight, we try to make progress on your appearance."

"What's wrong with my appearance?" Lyantra asked. "Makalov said I was too tall, and my legs do feel a little strange..."

"That's normal," Garnet said. "It's a growth spurt. Your body continued growing while you were afflicted, and there's a disconnect in your brain between how it should be and how it is. It'll feel that way until you grow into your adult proportions."

"Okay..." Lyantra folded her ears, a little disappointed that the one point she and Makalov agreed on was apparently not getting addressed. "I think he also called me fat, but aren't I supposed to be eating a lot because I was starved?"

"You're not fat," Garnet sighed. "You're pregnant."

"Pregnant?" Lyantra tilted her head.

"Having a foal?" Garnet raised an eyebrow. "You don't know how that works either, do you...?"

A strange chill went down Lyantra's spine. "No. What do you mean?"

"That's not fat," Garnet sighed, radiating tiredness. "It's called your womb, and a foal is growing inside. Yours is still small, but once it gets big enough it'll come out and become a new pony. That's how ponies are made."

That didn't sound like how things were supposed to work. But, again, Lyantra had no idea how they were supposed to. Only that she'd know it if she saw it.

"Why?" she asked. "Is it supposed to work like this?"

"Why?" Garnet snorted. "Because you're Makalov's toy. That's what happens fillies like you get used by colts like him. And it's not supposed to work like this. Only adults are supposed to have children. Your body isn't ready to support it yet, to say nothing of your mind. Didn't I tell you your lot in life is a joke?"

Lyantra's ears pressed back. "So what will happen to me?"

"You probably won't die," Garnet replied. "My scientists are good enough to see to that. But you're not going to have an enjoyable time. Although..."

She turned to Lyantra and gave her a pitying look. "You've been like this since before you were afflicted. Your foal has been sitting there, waiting to have a normal mother again so it can resume growing. And your state is part of what made you an interesting candidate for the experiments. So it's because of it that you're having any sort of time at all."

"What experiments?" Lyantra begged. "I don't understand what you're talking about! If this is so bad, why can't you just help me?"

"Ones on which a lot more rests than one filly's comfort," Garnet apologized. "I don't enjoy causing you distress. But there's a question I must answer, and everything relies on it."

Lyantra walked a hallway of Everlaste Castle en route between her worksite and sleeping quarters, part of Garnet's guarded retinue.

Bizarre beaked creatures escorted them through the halls, most of their bodies covered in what she now knew to be feathers. Their hind feet looked like sphinx paws, but their front ones were even weirder; Lyantra had absolutely nothing to compare them to. Apparently, these were called 'griffons'.

She didn't like the way they were looking at her, that mix of fear and pity and distaste. But she was aware enough by now to notice at least some of their attention was directed towards her stomach. To what Garnet said was a new pony.

This time, they stopped in the table room, where she had been strapped down when she first woke up. Several doctors were already there, making some sort of preparations.

"Well, someone's up on their hooves," said one of the doctors, bowing to Garnet. "I see she's improving with care after all."

Garnet ignored him.

Lyantra sized up the doctors. Over time, as she had recovered and been shown more about the different types of ponies, she had come to understand why these doctors had confused her so much before: they were unicorns, but they wore costumes designed to make them look like sarosians. It still felt weird and uncanny, seeing non-normal ponies disguised as normal ponies, even though she understood what she was seeing by now.

"So you're trying to change my appearance?" she asked as the doctors milled around, setting up some sort of equipment.

One of them - a mare this time - knelt down beside her. "I can explain that easiest if you'd come and look at some pictures with me. Can you do that, honey?"

Lyantra nodded. The doctor led her over to a cabinet and pulled out a page with several pictures rendered in careful detail: one of a fairly ordinary sarosian like her, and the other of a nightmare.

Seeing it drew out something visceral from her missing memories, a powerful urge to flee reminiscent of the one she had felt when first waking up. It was shaped like a pony, but was black and had hollow eyes, and see-through, gossamer wings. Its underside was textured weirdly, and it had grotesque holes in its legs, its mane and tail made of that same odd transparent material. It looked armored or chalky instead of furry, and it was going to eat her.

Before she knew it, Lyantra was hiding under a desk, curled into as tight of a ball as she could manage.

"It's just a picture," the doctor chuckled uncertainly. "It can't hurt you. Is it unsettling?"

"It's bad," Lyantra explained. "I don't want to look at it."

The doctor's face creased with sympathy, though the effect was distorted by the fake sarosian fangs they were wearing. "Then maybe you do remember something after all. Those things are what ponies turn into when afflicted with your condition."

Lyantra's heart slowed.

"These are pictures of you," the doctor explained. "Both before and after you were afflicted. Do you think you can look at them again?"

No, they weren't. The first picture hadn't been her, even if it was a sarosian. But the doctor gave her time, and curiosity slowly won out. This time, steeling herself, she looked again and was able not to flee.

The thing in the second picture was still terrifying. That was something to run from, she absolutely knew it. But the first picture looked like a completely different pony.

"I don't think that's me," she said uncertainly. Though, she couldn't help but notice that both of them were wearing Makalov's collar.

"It was," the doctor told her. "And you can see it looks nothing like the second. This condition doesn't just take your mind, you see. It transforms your body as well. And since our cure is still in the early stages of experimentation, we were able to get you a normal appearance... but not your normal appearance. Tonight, we're going to start trying to fix that."

Lyantra frowned, curiosity pushing out a little more of her fear. The sarosian in the first picture was pretty, with a light blue coat and purple mane and tail. Her legs weren't so lanky, probably because she was younger, and her stomach wasn't hanging down, probably because she wasn't pregnant. But when she looked in a mirror, she knew somehow that she was looking at herself. And this sarosian in the picture didn't give her that same feeling. She wasn't her.

"I don't think that's me," she said again, a little more certain.

The doctor smiled and shook her head. "Once we manage to put you back, you'll feel it, I'm certain. And if you don't, we'll keep tinkering until it's just right. Now, do you think you could get up on the table again? This time we won't need to tie you down."

Lyantra looked to Garnet for help, but Garnet was busy discussing something with several other doctors, and appeared to be concentrating. She didn't really want this. But what choice did she have? There were half a dozen of them and one of her, and if she made a fuss now, they probably would just strap her down again after all. Reluctantly, Lyantra climbed back onto the table, and awaited her fate.

Hours passed, and nothing happened save for a couple weird and passing sensations.

Lyantra kept her room mostly unfurnished, not that she had been offered much to put in it. A small bookshelf held a smaller number of picture books illustrating the different kinds of ponies and other basic things. Her bed sat on top of things she didn't want to look at, like the collar from Makalov. A stool provided a place for the doctor supervising her to sit. Aside from that, it was just her, the door and the window.

Today, she was allowed to have that window open, because outside it, something was going on.

Below was a big plaza used for events and ceremonies and stuff. It was in use today, a big crowd of creatures gathered around a stage. Garnet was on that stage, along with some others who also had wings and tufted tails. That made them sphinxes too?

"Lost daughter... born to a provincial... never brought forth... Lord Izvaldi..."

She leaned on the open windowsill, the speaker's words partially lost over the breeze. Wind felt weird. The air wasn't supposed to move of its own accord, was it? It smelled sharp and dusty.

"Came forward of her own... salvation of our..."

Garnet was wearing an elaborate dress, with rich, dark colors. Lyantra hadn't seen that dress while hanging the others. Maybe it was too big to fit in Garnet's closet, or maybe it was too important, and she had borrowed it from someone else? Probably the latter, because her closet was pretty big.

"Lawfully wedded... son and... glory of the Empire..."

Lyantra couldn't really tell what was going on, and she didn't know how to read the crowd. They were polite, she guessed? Serious? But they also applauded sometimes. It felt like they could read what was going on a lot better than she could.

Maybe she'd ask Garnet about it later.

Later came soon.

Scarcely thirty minutes after the ceremony concluded, the door to Lyantra's quarters swung open. This time, Garnet herself was the escort, and the visitor was another sphinx.

This new one was male, dressed up just like she was - he had probably been with her at the ceremony. Lyantra was on her bed when they arrived, since there wasn't much else to do. She felt more of an urge than usual to sit at attention. If Garnet alone could do whatever she wanted, two sphinxes could... She really didn't know.

"Well, well," the new sphinx said in a smooth voice, his mane impeccably groomed, some quality to his facial structure that Lyantra hadn't seen before serving to make him look almost silly. "This is my little bro's miracle filly, is it? How do you like that?"

"Who are you?" Lyantra asked, unsure if she should really be speaking.

He padded closer and looked her up and down, somewhere between impassive and dismissive and sympathetic. "Honestly, as impressive as it is, I fail to see the point."

Lyantra's ears twitched.

"Why invest effort into saving this poor creature?" He turned to Garnet, posing his question. "You don't need 'savior of sarosians' on your resume for the general public to accept you. This might come as a shock to an Izvalden, but in Everlaste, that's actually a negative. And you certainly don't need it for me to accept you, hah! Any route towards repopulating our species that doesn't involve sharing a bed with my sister is more than welcome, regardless of your accomplishments. Why, you're practically a peasant as far as I'm concerned, and I still married you with open arms!"

Garnet looked dryly at him. "Thanks. It's a hobby."

"A hobby," the new sphinx said. "To dig up the grave of a species that's been finally put to rest and restart the cycle of hatred. Well, our family has no strangers to eccentric hobbies, so you'll find no judgement here. But, consider that you could have just joined the rest of us in telling Makalov to grow up."

"I could have," Garnet agreed.

"Her child isn't even of particular value," the new sphinx added, scratching his head. "If she were carrying a sphinx, I'd understand, but Makalov's inclusion in the royal family is nothing more than an odd policy artifact combined with a flaw in Mother's character. Bringing back a filly for the sole purpose of having a deluded half-noble's children... The more I think about this, the more it's like you actually hate them more than Father does. Hah! Hoho. Imagine that..."

He turned to Garnet, baffled. "Just what did my brother offer you for this?"

"Nothing as valuable as he thinks it is," Garnet replied. "And some things of value beyond what he realizes. So far, she's my maid, not Makalov's."

The new sphinx looked slightly put out. "I suppose I'll make this clear: you don't need to put any sarosians through living nightmares to win my heart. I actually find this ancestral hatred of ours to be rather gauche. There's nothing wrong with a world where they simply die out and we move on."

Lyantra really didn't like him. Hopefully Garnet would take him away soon...

"Well!" the new sphinx chuckled. "Let it never be said that I don't take an interest in my lovely bride's pet projects. But, if we've seen all there is to see here, it's been far too long since I've gotten to feel good about the main event."

"Fine," Garnet said, more apprehensive than Lyantra usually saw her as she led the way out the door. "Let's see if this is worth the hype..."

When they were gone, Lyantra glanced at the doctor who was keeping vigil in the corner. "Who was that?"

"High Prince Gordovic," he explained. "Emperor Geltrich's heir. But now that he's found a proper wife, he probably won't be just the High Prince for much longer. The Emperor's getting on in age, and was already looking to pass the torch before he became Emperor due to the calamity."

Lyantra suspected that she didn't have a mind for politics, because all this talk of wives and princes and high empires blended together in her ears. But, that sounded important? Maybe?

"Huh," she said, and went back to thinking about what made the wind blow.

Garnet and the doctors didn't give up on changing Lyantra's form. They assembled in the table room night after night, and after several sessions of no results, boredom soon came to dominate Lyantra's feelings on the topic. She couldn't brace herself for the prospect of having an unfamiliar body forever, and that left her with nothing to do but study the doctors' methods and try to figure them out. Not that there was much she could figure. It clearly revolved around Garnet doing something, but that something looked an awful lot like doing nothing.

One morning, as she was getting started cleaning Garnet's bedroom, she asked her about it. "How is this change supposed to work?"

Garnet sighed. "Your affliction was caused by a monster unleashing its powers across a large swath of the world. Sarosians are uniquely vulnerable to those powers, and almost all of your race ended up like the pictures you've seen. Formless. Mindless. Dumb savage animals, controlled by another. But it turns out those powers are similar to ones possessed by sphinxes... ones we don't know as much as I want about how to use."

"So you think you can use the same power that changed me to change me back," Lyantra said, head low.

"It's more than just a hunch," Garnet told her. "I can do it to myself, and the afflicted, mindless sarosians. But now that I've given you a mind again, and a random form along with it..."

She shook her head. "No mind lets me control your form. Having a mind gives you a random form. One or the other isn't good enough. There must be a way to do both at the same time."

"Why?" Lyantra asked. "I'd be happy to stay as I am now."

"I told you." Garnet gave her a pointed stare. "Because what you want doesn't matter, and my client likes the way you used to look more."

Lyantra stared in confusion. "But what does that have to do with you? I know he wants me to look like that other filly, but why do you want this?"

Garnet hesitated. "He has power. You don't. It's not your choice. That's the way the system works... But what if it didn't have to be? What if you could change who you were and become someone who doesn't get trampled as a hobby? What if I could make you that way?"

Lyantra tilted her head. "But I like being me."

"You shouldn't," Garnet told her, a snap of resentment in her voice. "You're a toy. A lab experiment. A pregnant child worker with no peers or role models, and it's going to get worse the more you understand what that means. You should be willing to do anything to escape your own fur... That's what I assumed would be the key, the desire not to be yourself anymore."

She looked up. "But you don't feel that? You can think about where you are, who you are, what you are and not recoil against the walls of your mind, frantic for an escape?"

"I-I want to escape," Lyantra admitted, willing to spill her heart to this mare if it could possibly get her on her side. "I don't really like it here. I don't like Makalov, or that other sphinx you were with. And I'm really bored, especially when you put me on that table and have me sit still for hours. And I'm lonely, even though I never get to be alone even for a minute. Why can't you just help me?"

Garnet shook her head. "There's only one thing I can do to help you: changing your form. If I can figure this out, learn how to do this to a conscious sarosian, I won't have to make you Makalov's plaything. I'll make you anything you want to be. You could be Makalov himself, with access to all his power. You could be a new person, without any history or baggage at all. This is my experiment, Lyantra: changing your form is useless if the new form suffers the same fate as the old. I need thinking, breathing shape-shifters I can observe to see what they do, the choices they make and the consequences of those choices. To see what works."

She lifted Lyantra's chin with a wing. "I don't want Makalov to hurt you, Lyantra. I want to know what to fix so that you and everyone like you will never hurt again."

Lyantra's heart pounded. "But why am I not fine the way I am? Why do you need to change me? Why not just make Makalov leave me alone?"

Garnet sighed and let her go. "Right. You're a new pony. You don't understand what's at stake. I thought that by doing this with a body that had baggage from her old life..." She grimaced. "But you really don't have the kinds of stains on your psyche I'm looking for. Why did all the original souls have to be..." She drifted into muttering under her breath, and Lyantra couldn't catch any more.

Lyantra tilted her head.

"Sorry if this doesn't feel pleasant," Garnet grunted. "I'll try not to leave any lasting damage, but I can't leave this untested."

Lyantra had a mental image of herself, a little picture of her in the back of her mind that had been sitting there ever since she first saw herself in a mirror. It changed as she changed, and was doing better than it once had been, stronger and cleaner, if still cowering and scared. But suddenly, there was a protective bubble around that image, as if the rest of her mindscape had been replaced with hostile, inky space.

There were tentacles in that space. Thick, tapering and wormlike, encroaching from the darkness, made of black, sticky tar that roiled just beneath the surface with hatred and envy. The tentacles encircled her bubble like thorny sharks, gaps parting in their coating of ooze to reveal eyeballs and mouths that stared at her far, far too eagerly.

They didn't pierce the shield, though she was sure they could have. Instead, they spectated, a gibber of comments flowing in about all the things that felt manageable in the privacy of her own mind, now torn out into public. Her legs, what were they doing being so long? Double, triple the length they should be, what was with that? And her stomach, what a balloon! Was it supposed to be the same size as the rest of her put together? She should see a doctor. One who didn't think she was an experiment.

Oh, and had Makalov said there was something wrong with her face? She twisted around to try to see herself, but her jaw wasn't working, like the bottom half was the wrong size for the top half. And her mane and tail clearly weren't cut by a professional, sure, but was this really the best an amateur could do? Someone wanted her to look this way. Speaking of wants, that was a very pretty collar, ooo...

The pressure around Lyantra's mind was too cloying to even scream. And then, all at once, it withdrew, the tentacles vanishing into the darkness, leaving her body twisted and collared and disfigured beyond recognition.

Lyantra started to cry. And that was how she realized that the grotesque ruin was only in her mind: in real life, she was a pretty yet foreign shade of blue, with a purple mane and all her anatomy in the right place.

"W-What...?" Lyantra lost her footing and slumped, the boundary between mind and reality utterly disintegrated.

"Hmm," Garnet said, studying her. "That didn't look pleasant. I tried to do it without direct force... But results are results. Look at yourself."

That's what she was doing. Just like the sarosian in the picture, she was blue.

Her legs were still a little longer, and her stomach still a little bigger, but... but...

"Are you alright?" Garnet asked. "Any lingering side effects? Weird feelings, self-loathing? I tried to make the suppression temporary, to scare instead of scar, but I'm not very skilled at being gentle."

She wasn't herself anymore. And she didn't know what she had to go back to.

Lyantra didn't get to work. Instead, she sat in the middle of Garnet's floor, her thoughts completely paralyzed. And today of all days, Garnet hadn't brought any doctors along to watch her.

"Are you sure you're not suffering side effects?" Garnet asked, after coaxing her into eating lunch. "I turned you back. Did I break something along the way?"

It was true. Lyantra was back in her old form... not that it changed much. There hadn't been any tentacles or eyes the second time around. Whatever had been done, well... it was done. This body didn't feel like it fit her either. She was drifting, and couldn't see what she had been holding onto.

"Nngh..." Garnet leaned back and massaged her temple. "I make for a terrible scientist... What? What do you need? I can't give you anything if you don't talk to me."

Lyantra didn't know.

"I'm not a mind reader," Garnet reminded her. "This is why you shouldn't have kept asking me for help. I break things, not fix them. But now I'm actually offering to help you. What do you want? This success is useless if it comes at the cost of your mind again. I can tell you're still in there, but what will I do with all these scientists if they decide otherwise?"

Lyantra didn't know that, either.

"Worst comes to worst, we have to tear out your mind again and start all over," Garnet told her. "Just like what afflicted you in the first place. I'm not eager to do that. You shouldn't be either. As far as you're concerned, you'll be dead."

Lyantra wanted to say something. She really did. Whatever Garnet was offering, she wanted to accept - she needed a friend. But something broke down in her mind between that thought and taking action. Something around that flimsy bubble in her head protecting whatever it was she was supposed to be.

"Ugh," Garnet said, getting to her paws. "Why do I get the feeling nothing here is going to be the answer I need...? Do nothing, for all I care. Who needs you, anyway?"

And then, Garnet started doing Lyantra's chores.

It made sense, sort of. She was the only other one there. They needed doing, or else Lyantra wouldn't be here herself. And Lyantra didn't know what other kinds of duties Garnet had, but evidently there were none today... or at least none important enough to take her back to the doctors first, or else leave her unsupervised.

That was kind of nice. She didn't really want to be around a bunch of doctors who were constantly watching her right now.

But even if the chores needed to get done, watching Garnet fixing coffee table placements and sweeping felt really odd. This was Lyantra's work. It was something she took pride in being the one responsible for. Pride didn't really fit in her right now, but she was reminded of it anyway, and had nowhere for it to go.

It was also odd because she couldn't imagine Makalov doing menial housework like this. Or that other sphinx. In fact, she couldn't even imagine them knowing how to do it. But Garnet did it with a practiced ease.

That made sense, since she was the one who taught Lyantra to do it. But wasn't it odd that she could do that in the first place?

This was something the two of them had in common. Lyantra felt like she was still floating without a boat, but had suddenly found a single log from a broken raft to cling onto.

So she clung to it, got up, and started working.

Lyantra worked until nightfall. At some point, a doctor poked their head in, and Garnet shooed them away - no testing or experiments tonight. Garnet didn't do much more once Lyantra started, falling back to giving orders and telling her what to do, but it was enough. It was... It was something.

"You're slouching," Garnet told her after she tripped on the corner of a rug. "You're clearly exhausted. That's enough."

Lyantra looked up. She didn't want to stop. This was what she had.

"I'll take you back to your room," Garnet told her. "Come."

She opened the door to leave... but Lyantra didn't want to go.

"Please," she managed, causing Garnet's ears to swivel. "Stay here."

"What?" Garnet spun around. "You're feeling up to talking now? Are you feeling better? Can you tell me what you need?"

"I don't want my room," Lyantra told her. "I don't..."

Garnet frowned.

Then she lowered her voice. "Kid. I despise those scientists. I am using them because I need them because they are the only ones left alive on this continent who know a thing about sarosian anatomy, and I don't need to feel any extra sources of tension towards them to keep in check. If you're alright, what will it take to go back to your room and tell them you are fine and I did not break our most promising lead while their backs were turned?"

Lyantra shook her head. This was what she had. "Can I stay here?"

"...Fine," Garnet sighed. "Sleep on the couch. Don't wander off unsupervised; I will know instantly if you leave. And if anyone comes looking for you, point them to me..."

Then she slouched her way into her bedroom, leaving the door just slightly ajar.

It was probably meant as a warning, that she was watching and listening. But Lyantra already felt watched and listened to, like the eyes could come back at any time. She needed something familiar. And she really didn't know whether it was a good idea - whether anything was a good idea anymore. But her hooves told her where to find it. So, after what felt like an eternity of sitting in the middle of the floor going back and forth, she listened.

She could practically feel Garnet sigh as she edged the door open. But the sphinx said nothing... right up until she lifted the covers and crawled inside.

"What are you doing...?" Garnet groaned, as if she had lost all ability to predict the world.

Lyantra said nothing.

"If you're looking for company, you'd have better luck snuggling with a scorpion," Garnet threatened. "I'm using you. I hurt you badly enough that you spent a whole day without talking, and feel worse about it for my sake than for yours. I keep you under lock and key and work you to the bone. You cannot possibly think this is a good idea."

Still no response. She didn't have an argument she could put into words. All she wanted was something she could hold onto. To side with, so that she could be more than a filly floating lost at sea. And Garnet was the only thing she had. Either she would accept her, or... There was no alternative. Lyantra had to get her acceptance.

"So many times where this could have made sense," Garnet whispered, giving up. "All of those, and nothing. So why now...?"

She still didn't get an answer, and stopped prodding for one. Eventually, Lyantra realized she was letting her stay.

Minutes ticked by, and eventually, the tentacles in her mind returned.

They hid their eyes and mouths, calmer this time. Still roiling beneath the surface. Instead of spectating, one poked her shield, and it popped like a bubble of soap.

Lyantra could do nothing to resist, even if she wanted to. But one of them reached into her image and snipped off the collar around her neck, and another brushed her mane out, removing its hideous style and bringing it back to something resembling normal.

They did a rough job, especially on the rest of her body - it was like she was made of unfired clay, and every time they tried to squish something into place, it squished something out of place elsewhere. But as Lyantra watched, they slowly kneaded away the gross proportions, pressing her mental image of herself back into something roughly resembling what it had once been. A crude work, still vaguely lopsided and marred with flaws. But no longer an ogled monstrosity.

Then the tentacles withdrew, the last one patting her on the head on its way out.

Lyantra didn't know how much of it was real. She didn't know how a sphinx could do something like that in her mind, even if it was real. But if this was supposed to be an apology... It still hollowed her out, left her dizzy and feeling vaguely sticky on the inside. But it was better than anything she could get from anyone else she knew. She knew that for a fact.

This was where she would place her trust, then, come what may.

In the morning, Lyantra discovered that Garnet could still very much change her form. This time, no eyeballs were required.

"Well?" Garnet asked, sitting behind Lyantra in front of a mirror as she transformed once again, a fleeting curtain of green fire engulfing her body to obscure the exact moment of change. "Have you decided this isn't so bad after all? Not regretting your choice to still be there when I woke up? I do need to figure this out, you know."

Lyantra was still here, wasn't she? She figured that spoke for itself.

"Speak up," Garnet commanded. "Was that time better or worse? I'm trying to make this easier, but if you don't tell me, there's only so much I can do."

It was exactly the same. She needed no further preparation for Garnet to simply think about it and her body to obey. The image in her mind was fixed up a little, but she still didn't feel the attachment to it she remembered having lost. She felt... sort of indifferent about the whole affair.

"What's wrong with you?" Garnet asked, shifting her back to her original form. "What did I break? You were talking last night. Did I screw something up again?"

"I'm fine," Lyantra murmured. She just didn't have much to say.

Garnet growled softly to herself. "Why are there no references on what a sarosian body is supposed to work like? Do I have to go to Mistvale to find the right literature? Why is the only resource squirreled away in the heads of those stupid scientists who could all be dead right now if only I didn't need them to figure out-"

Suddenly, a loud knock sounded at the door to the suite.

"What!?" Garnet snapped, raising her voice.

"Just your friendly, patient client, wondering if his little gremlin is finally fixed yet," called an unpleasant voice Lyantra immediately recognized.

Garnet sighed. "Not much of a point in locking it when I'd get visitors knocking either way. Decide for yourself whether you're welcome, and prepare to be wrong."

"I'm so glad you understand how things work around here," Makalov proclaimed, kicking the door open and strutting in.

Lyantra tried not to make eye contact.

He had no such compulsions, and his eyes settle on her, searching. "No progress at all, I see. You know, I really-"

Garnet cricked her neck, as if to signify an absolute minimum of effort. Instantly, Lyantra transformed.

"Oho!" Makalov kicked the door shut and strode forward, his eagerly-widening eyes reflecting a blue and purple filly that felt about as right as all the other forms. "Now that's what I call presentation! Well played, well played!"

He stopped just in front of her, craning his neck and circling like she was a window display, sticking just barely to look-don't-touch. "Mhmm, mhmm... Colors are on point, and you even got her facial structure? Incredible! Manestyle needs some work, but I always did that bit myself anyway. Still no memories, I take it?"

Lyantra wanted to leave, instantly. But Makalov's gaze pinned her in place, so her eyes shot to Garnet, begging to be rescued.

"She's not the Lyantra you know," Garnet grunted. "That's how our cure works. It's a new pony with new memories in the same body. You're not getting that back."

"What are you, a quack?" Makalov scoffed. "I thought you said you could make it perfect! Fine, fine, then what about this?" He gestured to her forelegs. "I did include her measurements in the reference material, yes? Because these are just the wee slightest bit too long..."

"It's called growing up," Garnet said tiredly, sitting in the corner like a sentinel. "Her body continued to age in your storage closet. This is a process, by the way, that even people you consider savages wait for the completion of before having children."

Makalov gave her an exasperated look. "That defeats the point. I like her this way. Come on, the face is perfect, you can do that but you can't shave a measly inch off her height? This isn't good for the appeal."

Garnet shook her head. "This is what the original Lyantra would look like right now if nothing had happened to her in the first place."

Makalov gave her a sour look. "Listen, I can accept less than perfection, but that's two strikes in a row of things you say you simply can't do and I'm starting not to buy it. You're not willfully breaking contract, are you?"

"Did you really think she would remain forever young?" Garnet's face flickered like a fuse, calm and indifferent yet on a timer before it would become something so much more. "I'm so sorry you're wrong about that."

"Fine," Makalov growled, swiping a hoof. "Make me settle for less. What about this, then? You can fix this, right?" He turned his hoof towards her stomach. "A little gut paunch, should be nothing for your overpriced talents? The barrel is supposed to be lithe and thin. Timeless beauty standard. Surely you understand."

Lyantra didn't know why he wasn't actually grabbing her. It felt like there was some sort of invisible contract at play, like once he did, he'd be declaring her good enough and getting nothing more out of Garnet. She didn't know what he would do if he did grab her, other than probably put that collar back on. But what it reminded her of was that flimsy bubble of space the mouths and eyes and tentacles had observed her through, keeping their distance while criticizing - and he was doing nothing but observing and criticizing.

She hated it. And unlike him, she wasn't tied by any such contract. So she drew back a hoof and punched him for all she was worth.

It didn't even knock him over, and yet Makalov gaped in shock, barely comprehending what had just happened. Before he could, Lyantra rushed to Garnet's side and hid between her legs.

Garnet watched this, seemed to make up her mind about something, and sighed a long, defeated sigh.

"She's pregnant," she told Makalov dispassionately. "Has been since before losing her original self. That's something that endures through any of the changes this power can make. I assume you know how this happened. If you didn't want that, you should have thought twice before getting her that way."

Makalov sniffed disdainfully, wiping his eyes with a hoof. "That defeats the point, mare. Look, she's already growing up, if I have to wait a full year-"

"Do you know how much I hate rodents like you?" Garnet muttered, squeezing her eyes shut and rubbing the bridge of her nose. "I've been trying to forget how much I hate rodents like you. I need to, for this experiment to succeed. And you don't seem to realize what's at stake for you if I give up on that... which, for you, I just have."

"Well, you don't seem to realize how much is at stake for you if I call our deal off," Makalov retorted, pompously puffing up. "Now kindly hand over my gremlin. She has some lessons to re-learn before it gets too late."

"At stake for me?" Garnet shook her head. "All I wanted was this filly's body as a test subject. Your payments are irrelevant. You can give me nothing I can't take by force."

Makalov's courage wavered. "Bluff bluff bluff bluff bluff..."

Garnet stared him down.

"You know what, screw you," Makalov said, turning for the exit to leave. "I bet all your Izvaldi scientist buddies will drop you like a hot rock if they get wind of you gambling with our contract. And if you really can't fix her issues, I've got far more important things to do than wasting time on you. Things like searching for a replacement-"

He tried to throw open the door, but it was locked, throwing him off balance instead.

Makalov scowled, fiddling with the lock. It didn't budge.

"I told you," Garnet said calmly, "that you can give me nothing I can't take by force. And I still have things from you that I require."

Makalov whipped around and glared at her, though there was fear in his posture, too. "Are you stupid, or just dim? Locking yourself alone in a room with me? You're not my type, hag."

"Not." Garnet's eyes hardened. "That."

Makalov took a threatening step forward. Lyantra clung to Garnet's side, and she didn't attempt to dislodge her.

"What do you think happened to your Lyantra after she died?" Garnet asked, her tone carrying a quality that could turn day to night.

"Died?" Makalov raised an eyebrow. "She's literally right there."

"Her soul died," Garnet said. "This Lyantra has a new one. What do you think happened to the old one? Did she move on to paradise? Cease to exist? Or perhaps become trapped in an echo chamber, an eternal wail of her last moments and greatest unmet desires?"

Makalov's aggression couldn't last forever. "W-What are you, some kind of philosopher?"

"No." Garnet shook her head. "I'm an observer."

Makalov bristled threateningly one more time.

"I can hear their voices," Garnet told him. "The unending song of the condemned. Voices echoing in purgatory. Words and feelings left behind by souls who met fates neither fair nor just. Nothing can quiet them, not love nor death nor vengeance no matter how great the scale. Most of those wails were caused by creatures like you."

"Uhh..." Makalov took a step back, staring at her like she was utterly insane.

"I know this symphony well," Garnet said, her voice cold and smooth. "Well enough to pick apart its individual strains. Would you like to know what your Lyantra thought when she died? To hear her last words?" She smiled a sickly-sweet smile.

By now, Makalov was paralyzed by her voice, by the realization he couldn't intimidate or control her and didn't know what was coming next. Lyantra felt like she was standing on the edge of a chasm, an eternal void, and yet her own footing felt sure. She was just watching someone else tumble in.

"She had nothing to say," Garnet whispered, "about you."

Makalov's face twisted in confusion.

"She wanted to know the alternatives," Garnet told him, her voice like a whirlpool. "To know what her life could have been if fate hadn't dealt her such a cruel hand. She wanted to know what it was all for. The meaning to her suffering, what was accomplished by it. What her life could ever amount to, after the end."

Makalov was starting to feel the pull. He took a step back, and yet it didn't look like he went anywhere.

"Quite a few of them ask that," Garnet continued, speaking like a history professor and a reaper at the same time. "Tell us, why must we suffer? What did we accomplish with our pain, with our lives? Will anyone hear us? What was it all for? Their cries cannot rest without an answer. They will never allow themselves to be forgotten until someone, somewhere, has learned a satisfactory answer. And now, I am here to claim yours."

Makalov's eyes were wide with panic. Lyantra didn't know what was going to happen, and she couldn't tell if he didn't know either... or if he really, really did.

"What have you found to balance out the pain you have caused?" Garnet asked, the room revolving around her like a jury. "You, born with the privilege of taking whatever pleasure you desire, no matter the cost. Is this what you've chosen? Carelessly inflicting this on a child... Is this the ultimate form of happiness?"

"Well, why shouldn't I take what I deserve?" Makalov burst out. "It's not like anyone would give it to me if I asked nicely!"

Garnet's eyes glowed green. "I didn't ask that. I asked if it was worth it. This system will die without me. It might die with me. Perhaps it will even die because of me, though the gears creating those wails were turning long before I was foaled. Before it does, I want to understand what makes you think this is all worth it. What all of this was for. I came here to see if there's some mythical sea of bliss hidden at the top of the top of this society that can balance the scales and make it worth it. Is your pleasure a satisfactory answer? Will the song agree? Does it outweigh the pain?"

"A-A sea of bliss, eh?" Makalov chuckled weakly. "That's... a good way to describe it... So you want her for yourself, huh? Is that how it is? You're trying to... to steal my little gremlin? Go ahead and take her. I know when I'm out of my league."

"So you do have an answer." Garnet nodded. "That's all we've ever wanted. Now... will it be good enough?"

Makalov tilted his head.

"Conjure in your mind your happiest moments," Garnet instructed, detaching Lyantra from her side and somehow doubling in height. "The bounty that came of your choices and deeds. Lyantra, cover your eyes. Makalov. Prepare to be judged."

Lyantra tried to follow her instructions, but a flash of black and green lit up the insides of her eyelids so brightly that they might as well not have been there. When she finally managed to see again, there was nothing but a tiny pile of dust where Makalov had once been standing.

"Blegh." Garnet made a nasty face, spitting out something small and shimmery before grinding it to dust with her paw against the floor. "Not worth anything at all. I can't even call that a positive, let alone enough. The search continues..."

Something turned in Lyantra's chest, and she found that she could speak freely again.

"What did you do?" she asked.

Garnet gave her a curious look. "The better question is, what did you do?"

Lyantra tilted her head.

"How did you know?" Garnet asked. "I needed him alive for my plans. All the royals... I need to experience what they've built here, at the pinnacle of civilization. I need to see if it's somehow good enough for it all to make sense. The only thing that matters is finding an answer. But I judged him early. I killed him before giving this place a proper chance. And I did it for you."

She turned to Lyantra, intense. "How did you know? I am not trustworthy. Trusting me is foolish, stupid, idiotic, imbecilic and downright suicidal. I blundered around in your mind and broke you without the first idea of what I was doing. And then you crawled into my bed... and you were right. Against all precedent, you trusted me and it worked. I broke with my plans and protected you. You understand something about me that even I don't know, and I need to know how."

"I don't know," Lyantra answered truthfully. "You're the only person who's been nice to me since I woke up. Though, I don't know a lot of people to compare you to."

Garnet sighed and straightened up. "Well, you'd better figure it out, because this anomaly is my new best hope for finding an answer. Don't worry about Makalov or people like him. From now on, I'll protect you. I need to... preserve this status quo long enough to see for sure whether there's anything here."

Lyantra's heart lifted. But the truth was, she was really tired. "Can I not have to transform anymore for a while, then?"

Garnet looked at her sideways. "Do you want your original form back, first?"

Lyantra thought about it. Every time her form shifted... "Maybe tomorrow," she said. "I'm tired of switching. Once I'm not tired anymore."

She felt like she should have said yes, but her attachment to the way she looked was beaten out of her by this point. Hopefully it would come back. She felt weird without it, untethered and set adrift. Like she didn't have a true form at all.

"Well, you can be whatever you want," Garnet told her, sweeping up the dust pile where Makalov had been. "My priorities have shifted. I don't need you constantly transforming anymore. You might as well get some use out of the power I used you to learn. And think about your name, too. If you don't want to inherit the old Lyantra's looks, you don't have to keep her name, either."

"My name...?" Lyantra's eyes widened just a little. True, her name never had seemed to resonate when they told it to her, but she had never considered that it might actually be wrong, just like these other forms.

But unlike her body, she didn't know her real name. "What should I be called?" she asked.

"Up to you," Garnet grunted. "Pick something that's yours, I guess."

That was something Lyantra would have to think about. Something she could actually get excited to think about, as opposed to the still-dented picture of herself in her mind, or the uncomfortable sensation of her stomach being too big, or Makalov...

"Will anyone be mad?" she asked, pointing as Garnet swept Makalov's remains into a trash can.

"No one needs to know," Garnet told her. "If anyone asks, he was never here." She sighed. "Ironic how the one thing he was good for was sticking mares with unwanted children, and he does it again on his way out the door."