Outer Canterlot was as beautiful as ever, as was Inner Canterlot, and the castle that towered over the entire city. The skies were starting to cloud over, and an announcement had been made earlier in the day about some needed rainfall later. Nearly a week of celebration had come to a close, capped off with a parade dedicated to four brave heroes. Though only two of them had managed to attend the event, the citizens had still celebrated with abandon.
Hazelnut, meanwhile, stood in the middle of the road, front of a café still proudly covered in streams and banners on its fence. The currently rich brown earth pony kicked at a small pile of confetti that had collected in between some of the stones of the cobbled street.
“Come on, you have to do this,” Hazelnut muttered to herself, lifting that hoof again. She willed it forward, but it did not budge. Her big, brown eyes shut tight, and her jaw started to ache as tensed up.
“Hazelnut?”
The voice came from Hazelnut’s right, attached to a set of hooves lightly striking the ground. She opened her eyes, and looked at the speaker. Emerald eyes set into deep, dark features made Hazelnut loosen up, and she opened her mouth enough to sigh.
“I’m not sure,” Hazelnut replied. “The others are inside, I just needed some air.”
“Whatever you called us for really must be important if you’re this worked up.” The black furred pegasus stepped closer to Hazelnut, pressing up shoulder to shoulder and hip to hip. Their cheeks met, with a firm, but gentle little shove from the green maned mare. It felt like it wasn’t that long ago that Hazelnut thought of her as someone else.
“That’s… Understating it, Dawn,” Hazelnut sighed again, and gave her friend a nudge back, though with an elbow, putting a little space between them.
“Feel like telling me?” Dawn asked, her voice softening and turning a little husky. “You know, telling you my big thing first helped me tell the others.”
Hazelnut shut her eyes and sighed again. “Thanks, but I think it would be better if I told them all at once.”
Dawn extended a wing over Hazelnut, and pressed up again, with the wing draped over Hazelnut’s back. Hazelnut half opened her eyes, and gave the pegasus a small smile, while her legs obeyed the small nudge forward.
A bell tinkled above the pair as they walked in through the front of Nuts and Cream Bakery, despite the sign on the door telling the outside world it was closed. Most of the goods had been cleared out or stored away by Hazelnut earlier that morning as she cleaned, and without many ingredients, it wasn’t like she or her boss could keep the café open for long that day. Most of the stools and chairs had been upturned on top of the tables to make space for cleaning, aside from a handful that sat around the table closest to the middle of the room.
There sat a handful of other ponies. Two pegasi, a unicorn, and another earth pony, all sat on cushioned chairs. Hazelnut’s friends. One of the brown coated pegasi was nose deep into an open book, with a pencil between her teeth, but every other head had turned toward Hazelnut and Dawn as they came in. The writer only lifted her head when her twin elbowed her in the side, and the pencil clattered to the table top.
“Ow-” Her hoof rubbed where she was struck. “What was that for, Cardinal?”
Cardinal gestured to the newcomers with a jerk of her head. As the writer looked, she sat up straight and attentive.
Hazelnut tensed up again, and her fur bristled along her back. Her breathing became long and deep, almost wheezing as she drew them in. As she stared at her friends, her eyes frantically darting between them, she felt another brief head bump from Dawn, and Hazelnut’s breaths to come a little easier. Both mares shared a look for a moment, and Dawn nodded, letting her wing linger on Hazelnut’s back for a moment more before taking her place beside the others.
Hazelnut took in a deep breath, holding it for a few moments. She then exhaled and turned, using her teeth to tug on a string tucked into a hook beside the door way. She pulled it carefully, and the blinds of the big, broad front window dropped most of the way down. Though plenty of sunlight shone beneath them, and through the door, the room was darker, and mostly cut off from any glances from passers by.
The earth pony spoke up, his voice deep, but soft. “Hazelnut, is that really necessary?”
Once she tucked the string away again, Hazelnut nodded, and turned back toward the table. “Before I start, I want to say something first.” She bit her tongue, her eyes looking to the side for a moment, then nodded again, more to herself. “You’ve all been very good friends to me over the past while. I’m glad to have you as friends.” Hazelnut turned to the earth pony, and a little, creaky laugh escaped her. “And a great boss. Thank you, Kiln, for giving me a chance.”
The earth pony in the apron shrugged, leaning back in his chair. “You’ve got baker’s hooves, and you’re good with customers. It’s a pleasure having you work here.”
Hazelnut’s smile widened a touch. “Believe me when I say, I love you all. You’ve given me a place and made me feel like I belong.” The smile fell with her head, and she looked down. “But… I’m not who you think I am.”
The others remained silent, but a few glances were shared, chiefly at Dawn. She just stared at Hazelnut, and leant forward in her chair.
“We’ve dealt with that before,” spoke up the unicorn, black mane falling in front of her lavender face. “You know we don’t care what-”
“It’s not the same thing, Nebula” Hazelnut interrupted. “Dawn is- I’m-” With a grunt, Hazelnut stamped on the floor. She turned to the pegasus with the pencil and book. “What is it you say, Hare? Show, don’t tell, right?”
Before she could get a response, the dim room lit up bright green. A ring of veridian fire enveloped Hazelnut, rising up around her. Most of the other ponies gasped and pushed themselves back, but Dawn sat still as her eyebrows lifted up.
The fire disappeared as quickly as it appeared, and something else stood in Hazelnut’s place. Their legs were deep purple, rising to an almost black body and head, with a lilac shell on its back. Staring back at every pony were a pair of dark, smooth amethysts.
Cardinal was up on her hooves, standing on the table, and she yelled out. “You’re a-a-” She lowered herself down, muscles tensed and wings flared while her voice dripped with hatred. “A changeling!”
The thing slowly nodded, and spoke. Their voice was deeper, but had elements of the brown earth mare’s contralto. “I’m sorry. I just- After the parade, after what Thorax did for you and us, it didn’t feel right to-”
“Don’t you dare tell us you’re sorry,” Kiln said, his voice now edged. He was halfway out of his chair, hoof jabbing at the former earth pony. “You lied to us for so long! I can’t believe you.”
Hare lifted a hoof over her mouth. “But everything we did together…”
The changeling looked between each of those eyes, framed beneath low, judging brows and pinned back ears, with sharp snarls on each of their faces. The changeling’s breathing became laboured once more. “I’m sorry,” was all that they said before they bolted out the door, ringing the bell again.
Everypony else remained, and slowly shared looks with each other, their faces still contorted. That was, until they looked to Dawn. Her stern glare pushed back against the group, and all their faces dropped.
The clouds above Canterlot had finally built to their limit, and soon everypony in the streets was inside or under shelter as rain fell. Except for the deep amethyst shape, sat atop a roof overlooking one of the canals that ran through the royal city.
The changeling remained still, letting the falling water collect and dribble down their carapace.
Eventually the wind and drop in pressure made the changeling shiver.
By the time Dawn landed down on the roof beside them, they were sobbing, little rasps and gasps that were barely audible over the musical cacophony of the rain hitting the colourful roof tiles around them. Dawn raised a hoof.
“You don’t need to chase me away,” said the changeling, between deep breaths. Dawn’s hoof stopped midair, and her ears pinned back underneath the hood of her sweater. “I lied to you, I don’t belong here.”
The hoof came down on the changeling’s shoulder. They flinched, their breath hitching for just a moment, before another pattering of sobs escaped their mouth.
“Hazel,” Dawn said, her voice coming out as gently as the breeze. “You did lie to us, and we can’t change that.”
The changeling stiffened, just barely lifting their head. Those deep, indecipherable gems rested in a contorted face, and a word began to form on those lips.
“But I’m also sure you were wrong,” Dawn continued, cutting off the barely started protest. “About this not being the same as with me, I mean.”
Dawn slowly stepped forward, and then sat down to the left of the changeling. She placed both her hooves in front of her, though her right leg pulled one of the changeling’s purple-black limbs with it.
“But you’re angry,” said the changeling. Dawn raised an eyebrow, and water dripped off it, onto her cheek. “I can feel it.”
Dawn rolled her emerald eyes, settling them back toward the general direction of the bakery. “I’m not angry at you.” She turned her eyes back to the changeling, and bumped her head against their neck.
The changeling pulled away, though as Dawn looked up, she saw her previously raised eyebrow mirrored on that hard face.
“The others?”
Dawn nodded. “I’m not sure how they’ll feel in the long run, but…” Dawn stood back up, and pulled on the changeling’s hoof. “You are my friend. If you were some evil bug-thing, you would’ve done something worse than be honest with us.” She pulled on the hoof, and the changeling stood up.
“You enjoy your job, and spending time with us. I don’t need some fancy changeling sense to feel that. You do belong, here, with me.” Dawn’s head rubbed up against and then laid over the back of the changeling’s neck. The changeling hesitated, but then started to relax, leaning their weight into Dawn. “Maybe the others, too.”
“Hare?” the changeling asked, their voice just above a whisper.
Dawn giggled, and nodded, rubbing her chin. “She’s not up front about it, but I thought she was like me. Like us, Hazel.”
The changeling sighed, lifting a leg, and wrapping it over Dawn’s shoulder.
“Haze,” said the changeling. “My name is Haze.”
Dawn giggled, and with one hoof, she gently bumped Haze’s chest. “You could’ve also picked a better secret identity.”
The two remained there, as the rain fell around them, pattering on their backs and matting Dawn’s fur. Slowly, the shower let up, and while the clouds still blocked the sun, a little bit of blue began to poke through the cracks.
