Wild came to consciousness slowly as if emerging from murky water into thick fog. The sensations were slow to register in his addled brain - first, came the feeling of softness and cleanliness, the latter both inside and out. Then there was the air - fresh, yet with a quality one could describe as sterile. His eyes weren't assaulted by light - if anything, it was pleasantly dim in the blurriness that surrounded him. He closed his eyes again, content with sinking back into the pleasantness of oblivion. His head was cloudy, his thoughts barely half-formed, but he didn't believe he would be able to get back to slumber - there was an undercurrent of a dull omnipresent ache and a faint taste of metal in his mind.

He didn't know if a minute, two, or an entire hour passed before something tugged at his mind. It still refused to become fully aware, merely floating in nothingness, the thoughts slipping through without registering. He thought he had heard some voices at one point, but they didn't make sense at all. The light might have become even dimmer too, but he didn't think about it.

Despite the confusion and ache and tiredness, he eventually fell back to slumber, softly falling like a feather through still air. He dreamed of nothing and yet something, none of it registering in his mind, none of it leaving a single memory behind aside from the vague sense of seeing without seeing, hearing without hearing, and smelling without smelling.

It was nice.

Next time he was aware of himself, the fog wasn't nearly as thick, and he could finally think. He had a headache, thoughts were still jumbled, but his brain still worked, and he knew what came before. The memories were there, though they seemed dulled and unimportant except one, though it wasn't much of a memory, being more of an impression of one.

He didn't want to open his eyes. He didn't want to be back in that false dream in a cocoon - it was green, he remembered - or in the awful reality where he... messed up. He simply didn't want anything at all.

He drifted again like dust in an old room. He might have blinked but he didn't know if he ever opened his eyes. He didn't want to.

Wherever he was, it was quiet. Not silent - there was some unidentifiable noise somewhere, which seemed natural in origin. But whatever it was, it was too quiet to make out.

His mind grew in focus, pushing the fog away. He was Wild. His name was Wild, in any case. Something happened - he knew he already died once and this didn't feel like it. Faces were swimming before his mind's eye, blurry yet familiar. There was Princess Celestia, her fur so white and bright, her mane floating and full of colors. He remembered her. There was Princess Luna, he remembered he wanted to tell her something, something important that had made him anxious before. A few more faces passed by, still familiar but less so - Swift Strike, his... mentor, teacher? No, trainer. The sword trainer. Martial arts, that club, he remembered. Then... there was a filly. She was talented with swords too. Precision, he remembered. There was someone called Swingblade, and he - she? - no, definitely a he - was loud and not likeable. The last face he could barely make out, though he did think of 'babble' when he saw it. Why 'babble'? He didn't remember well. Something in the library, books?

His mind lurched, he felt dizzy for a moment, and then it all suddenly came to a stop. He could now feel the headache properly, and it was a deep one.

Wild opened his eyes. The ceiling was white - or maybe dark gray. It was dim in the room. He was lying on a bed - not his new one, not his old one. He breathed clean, fresh, sterile air. There was a fuzz in his mind, it wasn't solid in a way he couldn't properly describe. It was painful as well, even thinking intensified it to a degree. There was something he had done, something bad, something he couldn't take back. What was it? It was a blurry mess he couldn't get a hang of. The memories of - was it the previous day? The current day? The previous week? He had completely lost the track of time. Not like he cared about time much in the first place, but it was still concerning.

He focused on how he felt. There was weakness, and there certainly was pain too. Not quite a physical pain. There was also fog, and yet he also felt comfortable and clean. He could simply sink back into the void of sleep if not for the annoying dryness in his throat.

Wild opened his eyes again, finding them a bit crusty. He blinked it all away, then stretched his limbs. He was still a pony, which relieved him. It was no false dream with fake and impossible promises and absolutions.

The room was neither his new one nor his old one. He was on a bed - the only bed in the room. Next to it was a nightstand, and on it was a pitcher of water along with a full glass. His magical hand was reaching out for it before he could even think, and he gulped the water greedily from the glass first and then straight from the pitcher. It was cool yet not too cold, refreshing, a bit tingly too. Once he was done, he carefully placed both the glass and the pitcher back, noting a button above the nightstand, close enough to easily reach. It was white in color with a red cross in the center. His eyes traveled to a single window, which was currently hidden behind thick curtains. Further along the wall was a sink with a mirror that didn't face him. On the other wall next to it were two doors: one was marked as a bathroom. Near the next wall after that was a small table with two low and cushy chairs, and then he was back to his bed.

His mind supplied the answer - he was in a hospital. It looked a lot more pleasant than any hospital he had been to, and it was nice and quiet. The atmosphere was calm and peaceful, not anxious. Overall, it was surprisingly nice. But he had to get up, he longed for a walk, he needed to stretch his legs and just be.

He rolled off the bed and stood up on his four hooves. He took a few tentative steps, and he was fine. Perhaps a bit weak, and the headache didn't help, but at least he could move, and that was good. His hooves clicked soundly against the tiled floor, which confused him for a moment - the clicks happened too often. Then he realized - he had four legs, of course it would happen more often.

He walked up to the mirror and looked into it. His own familiar face stared back at him, but there were dark circles around his eyes, and the gray irises looked dull in some way. His mane was a bit of a mess as well. Otherwise, he looked good, and he was fine with that. The scar on his ear made him look a bit asymmetrical, but it also added some character to his appearance. He had plenty of other scars, too, he noted. He must be full of character.

He went to the bathroom to relieve himself as well as take a shower. He adjusted the water to be just the right temperature, then spent his time just soaking there, not thinking about anything, simply accepting the warmth of the water as a part of him. When he emerged from the shower and dried himself off, he felt quite a bit better even though he wasn't really any more clean than before. . On one side, it was quite pleasant, and he found he liked how he didn't have to think about anything. But on the other, a part of him was alarmed at it. He knew there was something he was supposed to remember in detail, but it slipped from his mind before he could firmly grasp it. He only knew something bad had happened, that he messed up somehow... but what it was all about, he wasn't certain.

He returned to the main room and sat on his bed, his mind still mostly empty and drifting. He blinked slowly, not really focused on anything at all. It wasn't bad, but the ache inside him was annoying, and it appeared to be increasing ever so slightly minute by minute.

It was then when a knock came on the door. His reaction was delayed, and he merely turned to the noise after a long blink. The door opened, and Princess Luna peeked in. There was a certain tired look in her eyes just like in his, and he could sympathize with her.

"Hello, Wild," she said gently, "May I come in?"

He knew there was something important about it, but what? It had something to do with her, something that he had said or done or both. Maybe his head would clear if he spoke with her. So, he nodded. He watched her as she entered, closed the door behind her - without locking it, a part of his mind noted - grabbed a chair and sat down not too far from him.

"Alright, Wild, there is something that needs to be clear - you have suffered through an extremely traumatic event, and a part of it was magical and mental in nature. Do you understand so far?"

He thought for a moment, going over her words, then nodded. He knew her words were true even if he couldn't quite process it at this moment. He, however, knew he was no stranger to psychological trauma. How would mental trauma be different?

"That's good. So, what you've gone through resulted in your mind fraying and slowly unraveling because of severe external pressure as well as internal instability. We had to stop it before it set in, and I'm sorry to say we didn't have time to even attempt to wake you up to get your consent for it."

He nodded once again, thinking they did the right thing. It was simply logical to do whatever they could to help him from suffering extremely bad things right away instead of waiting for him to tell them if he wanted it, especially if he wasn't really in the state of mind to do just that.

It was all perfectly sound and logical, he found. And now he was alive. He felt quite good if he was being honest. He would feel even better if that annoying ache stopped growing along with the worry somewhere deep inside him.

"Alright, so I'm going to ask you a couple of questions and tell you to do some small tasks to find out if everything is alright in your head, is it okay with you?"

Sounded fine to him. He nodded.

"What is your name?"

"Wild."

He didn't even notice when he said it. It felt so wrong... yet also so right. He knew he spoke before. He knew he hadn't spoken for a long time as well. And now... he felt like he could speak. Like he wanted to speak. Like there was nothing and no one that could prevent him from speaking.

His breath caught in his throat. He remembered what he said before. He remembered what he said to Luna. He heard whimpers, a knife was in his hands, and he was ready to kill. Ready and willing.

"I did it before," he had said, "I killed before."

And now, he was right in front of Luna, speaking as if nothing had happened, as if he hadn't wanted to take a life, as if he hadn't confessed that he had done it before.

He. Was. Awful.

His heart beat painfully and loudly in his chest. A sheen of sweat appeared on his forehead. He saw Luna's lips move but didn't hear what came out of them. His voice was taken away, his throat tight and clamped down.

What would be done to him now? He confessed. He told her he killed. She was a princess, a ruler. It was her duty to lock people like him up, wasn't it?

His chest was painfully constricted, he couldn't breathe. He couldn't breathe - at the bottom of that lake, his heart mangled and destroyed by a bullet - and he would die. He took his own life, he knew. There was no choice.

"Wild? Please listen to me," he heard, and the voice was muffled as if coming from above water.

He was going to die. He deserved it. No one was waiting for him anyway. Friends? Never had any. Family? All dead and gone.

A part of his mind reminded him that his grandparents could still be alive, but they had never called his parents or him, now had they?

"You are having a panic attack," the voice said. A panic attack? He heard of the term, "You are not dying. You are not having a heart attack," but he couldn't breathe, "You will be fine. Now, be with me. Focus on me."

Luna's face was in front of him but rotated ninety degrees. Then it straightened, now properly in line. Her eyes were a deep aqua color, he could feel like he would drown in them.

"Good, look at me," she said, her lips moving, her words registering in his mind, "Now, through your nose, slowly breathe in. Slowly, okay? No need to rush. You are not in danger."

He felt himself nod and follow her advice. It was a strain, he needed to breathe faster, but he followed it.

"Good, now hold and count with me. One. Two. Three. Four. Now exhale, just as slowly, on my count. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Empty your lungs entirely, alright?"

But then he would have no air. And yet he held.

"Okay, good. Now let's do it again."

For the next eternity, he simply breathed, looking into her eyes. He didn't see disappointment in them. He didn't see anger. He didn't see anything but empathy and compassion. How could he deserve it?

"Focus, Wild," she said, bringing his mind back before it could retreat, "Now, point at five things that you can see."

She was right in front of him. He pointed at her with his magical hand.

"Good. One more thing."

The bed. It was at his side. Did he fall from it?

"Good. Another thing, please."

The floor. The tiles on the floor. They were so clean.

"Good. One more."

The bedside table. The pitcher and the glass were both empty.

"Good. And one more, last one."

The... the door. Right behind Luna, he could see it. It was made of wood and painted a stark white. It reminded him of fresh snow. He hadn't seen it in a while.

"Alright, very good. Now, name something you can feel. Just four things this time, okay?"

He could feel the warm but not stifling air of the room. He could feel the cold tile under him. He could feel his own fur. He could feel the pleasant buzz of magic inside him.

There was a fifth thing - he felt his own mind. Something was wrong with it.

"What can you hear? Focus on it. Three things, please name them."

Something from outside the room, a noise. His own breath, it was deep and rhythmic in just the right way. His heartbeat - it was calmer now.

"Two things you can smell?"

Something from her, some kind of perfume? The sheets of the bed smelled of something too. Something fresh.

"Name one thing you can taste."

He could taste metal.

He breathed in, breathed out. He blinked once, twice, thrice. The room came back into focus. Luna's face - her eyes - weren't the only thing he could see. He could feel the tension in his body, and he made it relax, and then he finally stood up from where he fell.

He felt absolutely tired. But he was him. He was Wild. He was there. Whatever it was that he was going to face, he would face it with his eyes open and with his head held high. That was a promise.

He remembered that day, the day before - or was it still that day but later? He remembered freeing himself, remembered freeing others, remembered trying to escape only to be caught. Were others okay?

He didn't speak, signing his question instead.

"Wild, can you please ask me this question in speech?" Luna prompted him gently.

His voice was ugly. His accent was weird and disturbing and wrong. He shook his head.

"Can you do it for me, please? Your voice isn't bad at all," she said, "Your accent will improve, but there is nothing bad with having one."

How... how did she know what he was thinking?

The headache was apparent now.

"You are projecting your thoughts right now, and they are very loud for people who can perceive them," she said, "I have that talent. Usually, I can't perceive much from you. However, your mind is hurt, your control has slipped, and so we are where we are."

It struck him, and his eyes widened. Was she... like him? Did she had to deal with it as well? Could she... help him?

His thoughts were loud, she said.

His thoughts. Were loud.

His head hurt, it was becoming worse. Something was tingling inside him.

She could hear them. She could know everything.

The headache was pounding now.

If she didn't already know everything.

"Wild, please focus on me," Luna said, her voice steady and calm, "As loud as you are, I can't understand half of what you think. Most of it is simply guesswork on what I can understand."

Wild groaned, closing his eyes shut, hoping the pain would just go away.

"Oh dear," Luna said, her voice sending a painful shock to his head, making him shudder. A moment - which seemed to last forever - passed, and then she spoke again, her voice much softer, nowhere near as unpleasant, "Here, this will help with the pain."

He opened his eyes, and it was too bright despite how dim it was, as if he was looking out the window on a sunny day after a full night's sleep. Luna was handing him a small vial of something pleasantly blue. He eyed it without taking it, trying to ignore the pain and everything else.

"This is a potion, which is medicine created with the help of magic," Luna explained, her voice surprisingly soothing, "Without magic, they would be unpleasant and ineffective at best, toxic and poisonous at worst. This one is made to relieve mental pain, especially in migraines, and it strengthens the mind enough so that it can do its own repair. There are two side effects: your mind will feel less focused for some time, and you will become sleepy within an hour at most."

Wild nodded, then finally took it and drank it. Immediately, the pain stopped growing, and then a wave of relief came, and a fuzz settled in his mind, slowing his thoughts. He knew he should've been concerned - and he was - but he was mostly glad that the pain was going away. It wasn't long before it dulled enough to not be much of a bother, and he sighed in content.

"Feel better?" Luna asked, and he nodded, awkwardly handing back the vial. She took it and put it in a small pouch strapped to her side, which he failed to notice before. He noted that his attention had certainly suffered, "Good. Some people are naturally resistant to its effects, and you shouldn't take it for longer than a week unless you want to develop a temporary resistance."

Wild nodded once again. He could tolerate pain, and it would probably be a lot better in a week.

"Alright," Luna nodded in turn, paused, and then sighed, "Well, you'll be glad to know that everyone in your group managed to escape long enough for the changelings to be banished."

Princess Luna then proceeded to explain what happened, starting with how a princess got kidnapped by a queen of sapient beings who can shapeshift, and was thus replaced by the queen in question. She told him of the wedding and how the impostor was uncovered, of what happened in Canterlot afterwards. The wedding still happened on the same day despite everything and, thankfully, no one was seriously hurt, although Equestria was now on high alert just in case.

"The one who tried to take over the Royal Orphanage doesn't have a name," Luna continued, "However, she had gained a gender identity - and changeling gender is another topic entirely - as well as some power within Queen Chrysalis' rigid hierarchy. The self-titled princess believed my capture would elevate her to an official position alongside the Queen, massively improving her social status among the changelings, and other things that you may want to look into later.

"Now, Queen Chrysalis was blasted away and is currently searched for, but the self-titled princess is in custody, and she will face justice for her crimes to the fullest extent of the law."

Wild found himself believing her. Previously, he wouldn't have taken a step forward to a law enforcement officer, let alone expect crimes to be punished, but now... perhaps his decent familiarity with Princess Luna helped. She seemed to care about him - as hard as he found it to believe - and there was little doubt that she would do what she promised.

After all the explanations, his head grew weary, and he realized it was harder to open his eyes after closing them for just a moment to blink.

"Alright, I think this should be enough excitement for you," Luna stated firmly, "You are recovering after a trying ordeal. Get some more sleep, then I'll come back and we'll deal with whatever comes next, alright? Don't worry, I'll be with you every step of the way as long as you'll have me."

Wild nodded, then climbed back into the bed, not having the energy to even think about going back to his dorm. There were still questions he wanted to ask, worries he wanted to sate, and other things that were slipping from his mind, dancing at the edges.

But he could do it all later when he wasn't sleepy.

***

For Princess Luna, Wild wasn't the only one she had to take care of that day. He was hurt the most during the Changeling Invasion, there were many others that were traumatized as well. Thankfully, for most of them it was nothing more than the loss of less than a day as they slept in cocoons. At worst, they thought of it as 'gross', especially the younger ones, and that was relatively easy to deal with. The best way to help them was to talk to them and to let them be together with their friends, to let them accept their experience and put it behind them.

It helped a lot that no one except Wild was seriously injured. Out of everyone in the Royal Orphanage at the time, less than a dozen ponies were hurt in the first place. Some attempted to fight the changelings and received bruises for their troubles, but that was about it.

Luna was already tired as is, and she was grateful she didn't have to deal with more. Canterlot was hit far harder - there was chaos in the streets, and amount of injuries was much higher. She pitied her sister for having to deal with the fallout of that.

Luna's office for meeting with kids who needed mental help was colored with gentle hues of blue and purple and contained a variety of furniture from which the visitors could pick whichever was the most comfortable for them. Judging by how Swingblade was shifting in his, either he was too agitated or he didn't pick the right seat but didn't want to say anything about it.

"It's like I was frozen," he blurted out, "I've been training for years now, but when trouble came knocking, I just froze. I did nothing when they - when they struck Precision. And she tried to dodge, you know. But I just stood there and did nothing. I could do something, but..." he sagged, "I didn't."

"Swingblade," Luna said gently, "No one will blame you for freezing up. It's one of the three reactions people have when faced with danger. The other two is flight and fight. It's not something you can control without extensive training, and it's the kind of training Civil Patrol and Royal Guard offer, not a Martial Arts club."

"But... I could've still done something," he protested weakly.

"Maybe, maybe not. In the end, you're not to blame," Luna insisted, "I didn't manage to react, and I have been in similar situations before. I am a princess, a leader, and yet I was also taken by surprise. Anyone who wants to blame you would have to start with me first. So, you are not to blame in any way whatsoever, alright?"

He still looked uncertain, his mind looking for one thing or another that he could say to convince her - and himself - that he could've done something. He even had a talent mark, and his stood for being good with a sword, so surely he should've been able to do something?

"Swingblade, repeat after me, if you please - 'I am not to blame'."

"I... am not to blame," he said slowly.

"I am not to blame for an event out of my control," Luna prompted.

"I am not to blame for an event out of my control."

"Alright, that's good," she nodded, "And please repeat it to yourself as often as necessary. Keep it in mind that this kind of attack had never happened before to the Royal Orphanage, and it had been centuries since it had happened anywhere in Equestria. So, this event is not even once in a lifetime one, it's once in multiple generations," she emphasized, "No one sane would blame you for not being prepared for it. Please repeat this after me - 'Anyone who blames me for not being ready to a very rare event is thoughtless and stupid'."

Swingblade snorted and smiled, then repeated that.

"Good," Luna smiled at him too, "Feel better?"

"...Yeah. Yeah, I think I do," he nodded, "I... I think I can go. Right?"

"Unless you want to tell me something more, of course."

"Alright. Yeah, I think I'll be fine now," Swingblade stood up, "Thank you, um, princess."

"Any time, Swingblade. Have a good day."

Generally, ponies bounced back from hardships pretty well, especially if allowed to voice their concerns and deal with them together with someone else. Swingblade, to Luna's knowledge, was quite social - if a bit too boastful and, dare she say, arrogant - so he would do fine in time, especially since no one around here could blame him or make fun of him for freezing up without also displaying their own hypocrisy. After all, the only ponies who managed to escape the situation did so with the help of Wild, and only after they have already been temporarily imprisoned.

It was no surprise that, shortly after the invasion was over and the immediate consequences were dealt with, Luna was approached by many who wished to bring one gift or the other to Wild as their thanks. Rumors were absolutely out of control despite Luna's official story - some still spread it around that Wild single-handedly defeated every changeling with a tree branch as his only weapon. When he would finally be able to come out of the Hospital Wing and return to normal life, many admirers would await him, and a pile of various gifts - from chocolates and cards to wood carvings and a wooden sword someone made - would wait for him in his dorm. Perhaps he would finally have something to decorate his entrance door with as well, seeing as it had been empty since before he moved in. Luna suspected it would do him some good to receive some praise for what he did. He had been far too lonely for his own good for the longest time.

However, there was a darker part to this all - his confession and his actions when it came to the self-titled changeling princess. Fortunately for him, the only witness to it was Princess Luna and the self-titled changeling princess, and the latter would not talk about it. Luna didn't intend to talk about it to anyone else either, not unless Wild gave her explicit permission for it. If she could help him avoid scrutiny and suspicion over actions taken under extreme stress, she would do it, especially since he didn't go through what she feared he would. In the end, he didn't kill, and that was a good sign as far as Luna was concerned. And, if she were honest with herself, she would've likely done that and maybe even worse were she in his position, especially a thousand years ago.

In the end, Wild was in a vulnerable state at the time, and she didn't have the entire story. The circumstances under which he had killed before were yet unknown, and she wasn't sure she could entirely trust Wild on it in the first place. After all, there was a difference between what happened in reality and what someone might think of what happened. For all she knew, Wild was exaggerating without consciously acknowledging it. She would still need to talk to him about it, of course, but it could wait.

She pressed a button on her desk, which allowed those outside the room know the next person in line may come in. As tired as she was, the foals were her priority. She could lose a bit of sleep if it meant they didn't lose any.

The door opened just enough for a foal to come in and then close the door behind them. Luna recognized them - they were one of a couple of non-binary ponies in the orphanage, and their name was Jade. From what Luna knew of them, they were quite social but didn't appear to have any close friends. Jade had no talent mark yet either, which wasn't uncommon for the wards of the Royal Orphanage - nearly all of them turned out to be late bloomers.

"Hello, Jade," Luna greeted them, "Please, take a seat."

When Jade looked at Luna, she saw their eyes were bloodshot from crying, their lower lip wobbling, and tear tracks were apparent on their fur. Before Luna could ask anything, they burst into sobs. She hurriedly stood up and approached the foal.

"My dear, everything is going to be alright," she attempted to sooth them.

"NO!" they shouted, and Luna was glad the room was soundproof for exactly this kind of scenario, "It w-won't be!" a few harsh sobs escaped them before they could speak again, "It's all my fault!"

Luna knew not to deny such things outright without listening to them first.

"Why do you think so?" she asked gently.

"I, I, I knew!" they shouted, "I knew it was gonna happen!" they cried again, not looking at Luna, "I s-should've told!"

To Luna's great surprise, the changeling shape-shifting fire rolled over them and now, before her, stood a changeling. However, unlike those Luna had seen so far, they had no holes in their legs, and their body had a nice green hue to it. She took a mental note of it with a promise to look into it later.

At first, she didn't know what to say, racking her brain for a solution, remembering what she knew of Jade's history. They came to the orphanage at around the age of four, maybe five. They weren't verbal for a while - somewhat like Wild but even less social, seemingly afraid of everyone. Celestia didn't manage to find any information on them whatsoever no matter how deep she looked, and Jade never confided their origins to anyone as far as either princess was aware. They let it be - if Jade was unwilling to tell of their past then that was it. They didn't go out of their way to cause trouble, and their past hadn't come up in quite a while. Perhaps Celestia knew about them being a changeling, but if that was true, she never told her sister.

"W-will you kick me out?" Jade whispered, hiccuping, "Now that y-you know."

"No, of course not," Luna said, and they blinked, not expecting it. Luna summoned a cup and filled it with water, "Now, Jade, please drink."

Still hiccuping, Jade drank the water, still trembling as an after-effect of crying. Some time passed afterwards as Luna patiently waited for them to speak up, sensing they had more to say.

"I... You don't blame me?" Jade asked cautiously.

"No, I would never," Luna said, "Everything Queen Chrysalis and her followers did, it is on them. Did you help them during the invasion?"

"No!" they denied, "I... I hid."

"Then why would anyone blame you?"

"Because... I am a changeling?" they were uncertain now. Finally, they opened their eyes, and they were a brilliant emerald color.

"And does anyone know you are one?"

"...No."

"Do you want them to know?"

"...I don't know."

"It is entirely your choice to tell anyone or not," Luna said, "You can live your entire life as a pony if you wish to."

"But I... I knew the Q-queen was preparing, and I didn't tell anyone" they said shamefully, "I could've warned..."

"You could," Luna nodded, "But you never had to. It is clear you wanted to leave Queen Chrysalis and everything she stands for behind."

"Y-yeah, I just... I just wanted to forget," they squeezed their eyes shut for a moment, "I just... wanted to live my life. To, um, to be more than just her s-slave."

"Was she cruel?" Luna asked slowly and carefully.

"...Very."

"Would you mind if I gave you a hug?"

Jade hesitated for a moment, but then threw themselves into Luna's welcoming embrace.

"There," she said gently, "Everything will be alright. You're not to blame for anything. You wanted to forget, to have a new life, and that is not something you can ever be blamed for. There are and were many here with the same goal. They wanted to leave their past behind, just like you."

"I know," Jade whispered, "But I could've warned, and none of this would've happened..."

"Or it would've happened differently," Luna countered, "No one died, not many people were hurt during the invasion. We will recover. You can't know if your words would've made a difference. Besides, it is still Queen Chrysalis' responsibility, not yours. She is to blame for what happened, not you."

Jade swallowed, nodded, and then the two separated from the embrace. Jade wiped their eyes.

"But... what will be done to me?" they asked.

"Absolutely nothing," Luna stated firmly, "You will continue on with your life how you wish to, changeling or not. I am very grateful that you trusted me enough to reveal your secret. Please, come to me anytime. I will do everything in my power to help you."

"Thank you, princess," Jade said, "Um, may I go?"

"Of course," Luna nodded, "Don't forget to reapply your persona."

Jade nodded, the green fire momentarily engulfed them, and they were back to their pony form. They exited the room, gently closing the door behind them.

Luna sighed deeply and returned to her seat. She was very thankful she was not bigoted against the changelings, something she couldn't say about a large chunk of pony population around Equestria. She wondered how many changelings assumed a pony form and lived around Equestria as regular people, and she now knew she had to reject one of the anti-changelings proposals - to make their presence illegal in Equestria, as well as investing into spells that would reveal them.

Despite that, there still needed to be a way to find possible abduction victims who were replaced by changelings. Balancing this need and the right of changelings to live their lives peacefully would be difficult in the wake of the invasion, but it needed to be done so that no one suffered unnecessarily. For a moment, she thought of a changeling registry - she swiftly discarded that idea. If they didn't want to be known as changelings, then it was their right. Forcing them to out themselves, especially now, would possibly put a target on them at best or see their lives ruined at worst.

Luna hadn't encountered such a legal challenge in a while and, after she was done talking with various foals who wanted to see her because of the invasion, she would tackle it.

She yawned. Perhaps after a good few hours of deep sleep, then.

Author's Note

Luna believes Wild is a herbivore because ponies are herbivores and he had not displayed anything hunter-like. It may or may not come up in the story explicitly, but Wild is a vegan. For those not in the know, he is ethically against exploitation of animals, including using them for food. He has been a vegan for a number of years at this point in the story.

Right now, Wild is suffering from magically-induced mental trauma, so he will be thinking and acting oddly until he recovers. What his mind suffered was violent assault, and his own already-established mental health issues compounded with it, leading to a breakdown and his mind beginning to unravel. Thankfully, it was stopped before it could become a much bigger problem (which would include things like psychosis, persistent disassociation, manic and depressive episodes to the extreme, etc), but he would still need some time to recover.

Jade, because they are not stealing love by replacing someone's loved one, is a much healthier example of a changeling, that's why their body isn't just gray and why there are no holes in their legs.