Changeling Theory

Darkness. Darkness, and nothing but.

It was all Ocellus understood. The dimly-lit tunnels of the hive were something she adapted to at a very young age. Everything outside, in the Bad Lands, and beyond she didn’t understand.

Ocellus heard stories. After the raid on Canterlot nearly three and a half years ago, all any of the soldiers could talk about was how much better the ponies had it. The atmosphere was friendlier, the smells were nicer, and the food was good.

Food was banned from the hive. None of the drones her age knew why. Ocellus especially struggled to comprehend the answer when Tibia, one of her dozens of siblings, brought her some chocolate one day.

Sometimes, she could still feel the tablet pressing against her tongue and melting in her mouth. It did wonders for her taste buds and heightened her receptors.

Why did the queen ban this? She had always wondered. By eating a simple tab of chocolate, she was more well-fed than she had been as a larva. It didn’t make any sense.

She thought she’d forget about the experience after that day. She had hoped she’d forget after someone that Tibia had given the chocolate to went missing. They were a breeding drone from one of the higher levels that Ocellus had few encounters with. She had only heard about what happened—that they had died a slow and painful death.

After that day, a minor yet irksome pain in her chest would come and go, like it was constricting around her beating heart. It would occur when she thought about the chocolate, when the guards snapped at her, when there was a sudden call for her attention, and when another one of her friends or siblings went missing. Sometimes, she would wake up to the subtlest of noises and be relieved that it wasn’t a guard coming to take her away.

Three and a half years passed, and she still thought about it constantly. The thoughts followed her like a creep waiting to make its move, and they only persisted as she worked.

“Pick up the pace!”

Pickaxe between teeth, Ocellus brought it down against the rock. The hilt slipped out from her mouth, bouncing off the rock by the tip and ricocheting upward. Ocellus knew she was in trouble when a metallic clang echoed beside her.

She didn’t want to look up. She refused to look up. The subtle pain in her chest increased a fold, but that was nothing compared to what happened next.

Her world exploded. A metallic hoof clapped against the side of her head, and she forgot about her chest. She kneeled to the ground, tears dripping down her face.

“I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t mean to do it, I was just thinking and—”

“Shut up!” The guard yelled.

Ocellus did as told, mostly out of fear that he would strike her again.

“At attention!”

She straightened.

“Open your eyes!

She didn’t realize that they were clenched shut until he mentioned them. She lifted her eyelids, staring at the guard through bleary ocelli. “I’m sorry…” she whispered through a blubbery spray of saliva. “I won’t do it again.”

“I said, shut up!” He raised his hoof, ready to strike her.

Ocellus swallowed and flinched back a little, but she remained quiet. Her chest burned.

“What were you thinking about?” he asked.

“N-nothing!”

The world revolved a million times around as his metallic hoof once more clapped her upside the head. “What were you thinking about!?”

By now Ocellus was crying so hard that she couldn’t keep her eyes open. “I was thinking about what it’d be like to go outside!”

“That’s it?” The guard asked in a stern voice, clearly pressing her for more.

“And I’m… and I’m tired and… I just can’t focus so… p-please don’t put me back in Detention. I’ll work, I promise!”

Although he had told her to stand at attention, Ocellus sat on her haunches and threw both forehooves over her chest. By now, the pain had become excruciating.

“I just didn’t get a lot of sleep last night, and I’m a little worried that Tibia might be sick, and I wanna work—I want to; I really, really want to—but I just can’t think straight, and—”

“Shut up!”

He raised his hoof to strike her once more but halted. All Ocellus could make out through her teary eyes was his silhouette readying to swipe down at her but then slowly lowering its hoof. He spoke softly, “You say you’re having trouble sleeping?”

Ocellus nodded, surprised by the sentiment in his voice. “Y-yeah. Sometimes there's a pain in my chest whenever I wake up. And I think Tibia might have some kind of fungi latching onto her. She’s been sick. Very sick. I’m worried she won’t be able to work, and…” She shuttered.

“Who is Tibia?”

“She’s my sister. We share the same nest together. She’s been having to isolate herself from the rest of the hive, though.”

The guard nodded. “Right,” he said. “Tell you what… do you know how to read?”

Ocellus blinked, wiping the tears away with her fetlock. “What?”

~•~

“I swear, it’s amazing this kingdom is still in one piece!” The guard—Edifice, he said his name was—sort of whispered-shouted.

After Ocellus told him that she could only interpret basic sentences, his anger increased tenfold. His face scrunched up in fury, and for a moment, Ocellus thought he would strike her again. Instead, he went on a tangent about Queen Chrysalis.

Ocellus was shocked. She’d heard drones talk bad about the queen before, but to hear a guard outright say, “She should be put to death for the state of the hive!” It got her to freeze up completely.

Then, he brought her to his nest. Ocellus was worried at first that she was going to Detention, but he reassured her, and she followed him at a hesitant pace.

Most nests weren’t so lovely to look at. When a drone came to be a certain age, they would be tasked with tunneling out their rooms alongside their future bunkmates. This is to fix the overpopulation issue (that, and mining for more tunnels beneath the castle, which she was tasked with doing), and most of the time the work was so amateurish that the room would be uncomfortable to simply stand in.

This nest, however… was an actual room. An old jail cell, more like, judging from the rusted cell doors. It was made of concrete. Smooth, cold concrete. There were no decorations. Most possessions aside from tools were forbidden. All most rooms had were a pair of beds and a bucket for… obvious reasons.

“Whenever my bunkmate goes out on scouting missions, he likes to smuggle in a few books,” Edifice said. He reached under his mattress and pulled out a ratty paperback. “Our education system is getting worse. You should have a complex understanding of things by now, but the queen wants to keep us all dumb. Makes us easier to brainwash that way.”

He held the book out toward her. The cover was torn-up with white wrinkles spider-webbing across, but the title was still easy to read: Changeling Theory: An Analysis on the Origin and Influence on the…, and the rest faded out.

Ocellus lowered to her haunches and took it into her own hooves. It was missing its back cover; many of the pages were stiff from water damage and yellowed. But for some reason, merely holding it was enough for the constricted feeling in her chest to recede.

“Why are you giving this to me?” she whispered. By now her eyes had dried, throat parched.

“You need something to get your mind off things, don’t you?” Edifice said. “It’s bad enough that the youth of today has to suffer because of someone’s idiocy, but that doesn’t mean I will sit by and watch. That’s for you. Keep it. Read it. Study it. Learn what a complex sentence is. Understand what it all means. Then, come back to me. I’ll have another book for you.”

Ocellus slid the paperback beneath her elytra and looked back at the changeling guard. Something about his face made him look… pissed off all the time.

Her face loosened. “So… if you care so much… why did you…” she rubbed the side of her head that still hurt.

Edifice’s expression didn’t change. “I do my job. I do what I have to to survive. Same goes for you. That’s why I’m giving you this book. Read it. It’ll distract you from your sister. And maybe you’ll wake up a little more well-rested tomorrow.”

“Well, uh, thanks,” Ocellus said, staring down at her hooves. “I’ll… I’ll check it out, yeah. And… you say you have more?”

The guard nodded. “I don’t have a whole lot. Thorax can only hide so many when he brings them in. I’m sure he’ll find a few interesting ones at the Crystal Empire, though.”

She’d hug him if he wasn’t so scary-looking. But, she still gave him a smile of appreciation. “Thank you!”

“Just read it and come to me. Tell no one you have it.” He walked up to her and shot her with a heinous glare. “Tell no one. If you are caught, you don’t know me. You don’t say where the books came from no matter what. Are we clear?”

Ocellus shook. Edifice was much bigger than her, but right now he was practically towering over her. She nodded. “Yes!”

“Good,” he said. “Now, go get back to work. I’ve used up my break talking to you.”

Ocellus left, and that night she read the book. It was full of complex sentences and words that she didn’t understand, but she liked it for that. After she finished reading the book (it only took a week but would have taken longer if half of the pages weren’t missing), she started reading it again. Eventually, she went back to Edifice for a second book, then a third book, then a fourth book. They never got well-acquainted—the guard always preferred to keep to himself—but he was always happy to oblige.

Eventually, Edifice would disappear as well. Barley three days before Thorax became their new leader.

~•~

The breeze hummed, a cold chill caressing Charcoal Glow’s face. The wind had picked up in the last hour, and while it could still be considered “gentle,” she didn’t want to risk wandering around in a snowstorm. Again. That meant they had no time to lose.

The kirin drank the rest of her broccoli cheese soup, then went back into the train station. Inside much younger and smaller-framed kirin sat at a bench on the right side of the room, slowly sipping from a paper bowl.

“Are you about done?” Charcoal asked.

Spring Heat sniffed, rubbed her stubby red nose, and nasally said, “I can’t even taste it, so yeah.”

“Nonsense, chug! You’ll need it if you want to get better soon. When you’re finished, we need to find an inn for tonight.”

Spring Heat mumbled under her breath and then reluctantly slurped the bowl’s contents down her gullet. She pulled back with a loud belch, then sat the half-empty paper bowl on the bench beside her. “Can we just wait in here for a few minutes, mom? I don’t wanna go outside yet.”

Charcoal sighed. “Five more minutes, but finish your soup fast.” She walked up to her daughter and placed a hoof on her forehead. “Yikes. You’re burning up. We’ll need to start you a bath when we get to the inn.”

“I feel fine,” Spring Heat said, scrunching up her nose in an attempt to hold back a sneeze. “My body is just trying to get acclimated to the room.”

“Yeah—no. You’re taking a bath. Besides, you’re filthy. Hey, just look at your mother in case you need a mirror. It’s been at least a week since we’ve both bathed.”

Indeed, both Charcoal and Spring’s bodies were tattered with charcoal dust and oil. They had just finished yet another roundabout trip and were finally about to make their final stop in Canterlot. However, the weather station said that a severe snowstorm was heading their way. It wasn’t much of an issue; they could just trek slowly. But honestly? Charcoal Glow was ready for a break.

She wasn’t the kirin she use to be, not like Spring Heat, who was bordering on maturity. She had minor RA of the neck that sometimes made it feel as if her head was screwed on too tight. Her grey coat was still smooth, but sometimes whenever she caught herself in the mirror, she would stop and examine her face for wrinkles.

If anything, it was a miracle that eighteen years on the job had only aged her to the state she was in now. At forty-five, Charcoal Glow was slim (if a little on the chubby side), still had some energy in reserve, and still not bedridden. Also, almost always tired.

She yawned. “Okay, let’s head out. We have to depart in six hours.”

Spring Heat groaned in her teenage you’re-such-a-buzzkill-mom sort of way and followed Charcoal, makings sure to throw her paper bowl into the trashcan by the door.

Snow crunched beneath their hooves as they made their way around the building, biting them like cold fangs. Kirins weren’t particular to snow, and in fact, made a habit to avoid it at all costs. However, they had to get to the inn somehow, and sleeping on the bench back in the train station would only hurt her back more.

They must have traveled at least ten feet when a silhouette surrounded by the amber glow of a lantern appeared in the distance. Charcoal thought nothing of it, especially when she saw one silhouette become two, three, five, and… nine?

As they stepped into the town’s boundary, it hit her: they were approaching the station. She frowned and picked up the pace.

“Hey, slow down!” Spring Heat yelled.

“Sorry, sweety,” Charcoal called back and continued onward.

Eventually, they were close enough that she realized how diverse the group was. It was a melting pot of creatures—two hippogriffs, three ponies, a griffon, a yak, a dragon, and a changeling. And some of them had luggage.

“The station is closed for the night!” she called toward them. By now she could make out the whites of their eyes. “Come back tomorrow morning!”

A pony with a lilac coat pranced ahead of the group, kicking up dust clouds of snow that were carried off by the wind. “This is an emergency! We need to use the train.”

Charcoal heard a groan behind her, and she kind of wanted to do the same thing. She halted, and her frown turned into a scowl. “Well, this better be good! I haven’t had a good night’s rest in almost a month! What is it?”

They halted in front of the group and the lilac unicorn continued, gesturing a hoof toward her entourage. “We need to transfer these six students to Canterlot this instant. It’s a life or death emergency!”

Her eyes narrowed, and she looked the group of young ones up and down, all of which looked perfectly healthy. “Life or death, huh?”

The lilac unicorn winced. “It’s… complicated.”

“Listen, I’ve been doing this job for nearly two decades. I’ve seen so much that the unusual tends to be usual for me. Go on. Tell.”

The unicorn opened her mouth to speak, but one of the hippogriffs—a talk black one with tufts of white feathers sprouting from his chest making it look as if he was wearing a tuxedo—interrupted. “That doesn’t matter.” His voice was smooth yet had just enough force behind it to sound commanding. This unsettled Charcoal a little, and she couldn’t explain why.

“What matters…” he continued.” Is that you will allow us to commandeer this train.”

Charcoal blinked, the implications of what he just said taking a moment to set in. When it hit, her scowl shifted into horrendous fury. “Now, hold it! This is my train you’re talking about!”

“It’s not your train, mom,” Spring Heat commented. “It belongs to Steel & Ironworks Industry.”

“Sweety…” Charcoal hissed through clenched teeth. “Let. Mommy. Handle this.”

Spring glanced at her mother, shuffled a little, then shifted her eyes onto her hooves. Charcoal turned back to the group. “Either tell me what’s going on or leave. I’m very tired, and if you’re attempting to steal two hundred tons of industrious steel, then I have no qualms with going nirik this instant.”

The tall hippogriff lowered to his haunches and lifted his wing, revealing a black leather satchel. Lifting its flap, he took out a folded-up paper. “By order of the monarchy, you are to allow us to commandeer this locomotive.”

Charcoal took the paper into her magic and unfolded it. With each sentence that she read, the more her contorted face unraveled into surprise. It was a royal document, signed and stamped by Princess Twilight herself. One particular sentence jumped out.

By royal decree, this document allows the assigned royal officer to commandeer any public vehicle within their reasons…

Within their reasons…

Within their reasons…

Charcoal Glow was flabbergasted. “W-what is this?”

“That,” he said calmly, pointing at the document hovering before her, “clearly states that to refuse from us from boarding the train is an obstruction of the law, and on a normal day I might be keen to let said refusal slide away. But we have time against us, and if you refuse to let us board then I will rein down as much fury on Steel & Ironworks that the Equestrian government has to offer.”

Charcoal stared up at the hippogriff in horror. The way he spoke, the way he towered over her, and the fact that he never tilted his head down when speaking to her yet it always felt like he was looking at her… every fiber of this creature was stitched together to intimidate.

“We’ll be out of your mane shortly,” he continued. “We just need to secure the cars for the students, and I’m sure I can get the hang of operating the engine fairly quickly.”

“Hold it!” Charcoal shouted. “Ain’t no one is gonna conduct my train but met! You want to board? Fine. But only I get to operate it. Got it?”

The hippogriff smirked. “Sounds like a deal.”

~•~

“Why did you bring so many sweaters?” Gallus asked, pulling a tangerine sweater from Silverstream’s backpack that read ORANGE YOU GLAD WE’RE FRIENDS?

“It’s my emotional support sweater!” Silverstream chirped, picking up the sleeve and caressing it against her face.

Gallus scowled. “But you’re already wearing your emotional support sweater.”

Actually, she was wearing two emotional support sweaters. Her I’M EGGCELLANT sweater and her MONDAYS ARE BADA$$ sweater over that one.

“Correction,” Silverstream stated poignantly. “I’m wearing three emotional support sweaters.”

She took the one that Gallus was holding and slipped it over her head, struggling to get her forelimbs to fit through the sleeves and wings through the holes. When it was on, Gallus shot her an odd look.

“Aren’t hot?”

Silverstream smirked, raising her eyebrows in mock surprise, and gasped. “Gallus! Do you really think so?”

He sighed. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

“I know! And nah, I’m actually cozy.” Sitting, she hugged herself, brushing her talons through the soft faux fleece. She looked at Gallus’s ragged green sweater and frowned. “Does that itch?”

“Kinda, yeah,” he said, scratching his shoulder.

“Ooo, I got an idea!”

Silverstream reached into her backpack and pulled out a sweater that read I LIKE MY MARE THE WAY I LIKE MY COFFEE - dark.

“We can be emotional support sweater buddies!”

Gallus sat there, staring at the sweater while scratching his neck. “Yeah, uh… cool.”

Silverstream’s smile faded into a pout. “You don’t wanna be emotional support sweater buddies?”

“No, no! It’s just, uh… will that fit me? You are kinda tall.”

“Pff, yeah it will fit you! It barely fits me!”

She plopped it over her head, and Gallus wrestled to get the sweater on. Once it was fully around his frame, he tugged at the collar. “I’m kinda hot.”

“Yeah,” Silverstream said. Adding sensuously, “You are.”

“Again, you know that’s not what I meant. But thanks.”

Silverstream zipped up her backpack and lifted it toward the luggage compartment above her seat. She halted, feeling something… wet.

She turned the backpack upside down and felt the bottom. It was damp. “Oh no!” Silverstream said. “My backpack got wet from the snow!”

Gallus leaned in to look at it. “Doesn’t look wet.”

“Well here, feel it!” She held it out toward Gallus.

He placed his talon on the bottom and felt. “Yeah, seems mostly dry. What’s the big deal?”

“What’s the big deal!?” She unzipped the backpack and removed the sweaters by the bundle. “Most of these were sent by my parents. They can’t be replaced!”

After sorting through each one and finding that they were all dry, she breathed a relaxed sigh.

“So what?” Gallus said. “They’re just sweaters.”

Silverstream clutched one to her chest and turned to the griffon. “No, Gallus, it’s the sentimental value. I can’t let anything happen to these, they’re my prized possessions!”

“So uh,” Gallus tugged at his sweater collar, giving her an awkward look. “If it’s sentimental to you, does that mean I can take this one off?”

Silverstream scoffed. “You mean you don’t like wearing it?”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s not that I don’t like wearing it… I just prefer not to.”

Silverstream blinked, staring at him with concerned eyes. “You… don’t wanna be emotional support sweater buddies?”

Gallus stared at her momentarily, then nodded. “Don’t get me wrong. It’s soft but kinda tight. It definitely wasn’t made for a guy.”

He removed the sweater and handed it back to Silverstream, who took it solemnly. “Oh… okay.”

She couldn’t explain why, but that irked her. Perhaps it was his string of behavior from the last couple of days, or perhaps it was because she was still emotional over what about Ocellus. Part of her wanted to slap the griffon outright, but she pushed that urge deep down and wondered why she ever thought it. After all, it wasn’t a very Silverstream-thing to do.

She dropped the sweater into the bundle and shoved it all into the compartment above their seat. She set her talon against the floor and heard a soft splat. Looking down, she saw that her talon was stuck in a thin puddle of water leaking from her backpack.

Picking it up, she peered inside and wondered how none of her sweaters had gotten wet. The entire thing was soaked.

~•~

Smolder inhaled more cigarette smoke, the tip of the white stick glowing. She breathed, allowing the chemical cloud to seep through the ajar window above her seat.

Gallus and Silverstream were having a conversation about something to do with sweaters in the back of the car, although she wasn’t paying attention to that. Neither was she paying attention to Sandbar and Yona’s yammering. The earth pony was throwing a barrage of words at the yak, probably because he was still a little high and in a paranoid state, but everything outside of Smolder’s world was filtered out.

There was only the coldness of the window pane her head leaned against and Ocellus in the next car ahead.

She was worried. It wasn’t a very Smolder-thing to do—being worried for somecreature’s wellbeing. Hey, most of the time she was the one trying to put her friends in danger for enthrallment’s sake! But this was different. This was life or death, and it was life or death over a very close friend.

Ocellus was in danger. Her friends were in danger. She was in danger, but that was nothing new. Her head hurt.

Smolder finished the cigarette in a single drag, then ate the butt. She chewed on it solemnly, staring out the window. The trees outside dance to the erratic behavior of the wind, throwing around gales of snow. From here, Ponyville looked like it was buried, and she worried that the tracks would be too covered for them to leave the station. She tried to press this thought down, but it lingered over her like a demented angel.

She groaned and blurted, “What’s taking so long!?”

As if on cue, the door leading to the next car burst open, and Headmare Starlight walked in. “Okay!” she said. “Sorry, everyone. We will depart shortly. Ocellus put up a fight getting on the train.”

“Where’s the tall dude?” Sandbar asked.

“He’s watching Ocellus right now. He says since none of you show signs at the moment, there’s no need to watch over you—so long as you don’t sleep. So… please don’t sleep.”

Smolder swallowed the cigarette butt. “So, can we see her or something?”

Starlight shifted her gaze toward the dragon and winced. “Hrm, well, no. Sorry. Mr. Black says that it’s best to keep you guys separated from her just to be safe. Don’t worry, though. You’ll get to see her before the operation.”

“Yeah, and what if we don’t?”

“You will,” Starlight reassured her.

Smolder procured the pack of Cherry Delights from the tattered backpack with a broken zipper beside her. She opened the pack, taking out the last cigarette inside. “How long will it be?” she said, gently blowing on the tip of the dragon-inhaler with heated breath.

“Canterlot is usually an hour and a half by train, but with the snow, I’d have to guess… four hours?”

Smolder nearly choked on the freshly-lit cigarette as she sucked it into her mouth, sputtering. She didn’t want it to go to waste, so she swallowed it. Standing, she slammed her fists against the head of the seat in front of her. “How the fuck are we supposed to save her if every minute matters? Do you even know what you’re doing?”

Starlight flinched back, her face wrinkling in concern. “No, Smolder. I don’t. I’m just doing everything I can.”

Smolder jabbed a claw in the unicorn’s direction. “You knew about this way before any of us, didn’t you? The school was on lockdown after Lemongrass’s murder. You knew there was something wrong and didn’t do anything to stop it!”

“Smolder, I—”

“Did you think there was something wrong with Ocellus before all of this shit went down?”

“Hey Smolder,” Sandbar said. “Chill…”

She turned to the pony and said, “Fuck off sea green!”

Starlight scoffed, “Smolder!”

“You could have prevented all this, huh?”

Starlight froze for a moment but then nodded slowly. “I… well, I was hanging out in one of the classrooms because I wanted to escape my office. So many officers and Royal Guards were coming in and out, and… I wanted to get out of there for a bit. And, well, she came into the classroom… touched my hoof, and in an instant, she knew that Lemongrass was dead.

“I’m sorry,” she whimpered. “I’m sorry. We would probably be in Canterlot by now if I had done something the moment I suspected her. I’m sorry, Smolder. I can only hope everything turns out okay.”

Smolder groaned and rolled her eyes. She fold her arms and plopped back down against her seat. “Whatever… sorry I snapped.”

Starlight shifted her attention back to the room, all eyes on her. “Is everyone settled in? There’s no turning back now.”

No response.

“Okay,” she continued. “Just remember to not sleep, and everything will be okay.”

“Uh,” Gallus waved at her. “What are we supposed to do in the meantime? Four hours and no sleep is a whole lot of nothing.”

Starlight nodded. “Right, uh… I’ll check with Charcoal to see if she has anything for you guys. If not, I’m sure you can make up a few games to pass the time.”

The headmare left, slamming the door to the next car behind her. Smolder felt a little bad for lashing out like that, but at the same time, she was just so antsy. She had been feeling antsy since they left the school, and that only made her crave the soothing effects of tobacco even more.

She reached into her backpack and rummaged around for another pack of Cherry Delights. Her claw brushed against something hard.

Weird, Smolder thought. I thought I packed light.

She pulled out a strange-looking rock. It was green and could almost be considered see-through if the inside of it wasn’t so cloudy.

“The fuck is this?” Smolder whispered. She nibbled on it and nearly barfed.

Blegh, why did I bring that?

~•~

Starlight had regrets. As a headmare, she regretted failing Lemongrass. As a witness, she regretted not being able to save Skeedaddle. As a mare, she regretted everything she ever did before moving to Ponyville; and, in a few cases, some things that happened between the time she moved here and the moment she became in charge of a school.

It was all in the past, but it lingered over her like a knife ready to come down at any moment and stab her with every bad memory she had of herself. She felt like she was in a state where time, the broken puzzle that it is, fixated into a pattern where the worst of her worst was immediate. And there was no changing that.

Sometimes, she felt as if she could turn back time. There was a spell that could do that, yes—she expanded upon such spell—but she felt as if it could be done on a mere whim, conveniently when the worst possible thing to happen has happened. Then, the trauma of the moment would fade away, and she’d be strung back into reality; where time had control of her.

She could not control time. She could not fix her past mistakes. She could not control this current predicament. Perhaps, however, she could fix it.

She transferred to the next train car, where Mr. Black, Ocellus, and Trixie were waiting. Ocellus looked peaceful with how she was curled up into a little ball in the passenger’s seat up front and sleeping. Mr. Black sat on the other side of the car across from her, seeming to mind his own business by reading a book, although Starlight was sure that he was keeping a close eye on the changeling.

Starlight walked up beside him, making sure to at least get into the corner of his vision so to at least not to startle him, although she didn’t think that would happen either way. “Has she put up any more of a fuss?”

“She called me a few hippogriff slurs, but that’s about it,” he said. “After that, she passed out. My guess is to recharge.” Turning his head to Starlight, “That means Ocellus, your student, will be back shortly. Don’t get too excited, though. Considering her mental state, that means the spirit residing in her can take over even while she’s conscious.”

Starlight looked over at the changeling peacefully curled up into a little ball. “This is my fault. I should have done something the moment I suspected her.”

“You should have,” Mr. Black stated.

Okay, ouch. Starlight thought.

“But the last few days have rendered you somewhat hysterical, and the spirit resides within you. If anything, I’m surprised it hasn’t initiated a full takeover yet.” Supposedly seeing the hurt look on her face, he added, “I know you feel like you’re at fault here. You’re not. This is something outside your realm of comprehension. I’m guessing you feel like you’re inherently responsible for the death of Lemongrass since you are the headmare?”

Starlight nodded slowly.

“And I’m guessing that since you came in such proximity to the killer you feel that you are responsible for Skeedaddle?”

Again, she nodded slowly?”

“And the same for the five students sitting in the car behind this one?”

Frustrated with the twenty-question game, Starlight asked, “Where are you going with all of this?”

“It’s as I said, this is something outside your realm of comprehension, so don’t feel as if you could have done something to stop it. You couldn’t have. Simply knowing that still probably doesn't help. If anything, it’s good because it shows that you’re empathetic. But empathy, in this case, will drag you down. Bury those emotions. Refuse them. If you don’t, you’re only putting yourself in danger by allowing the spirit to take advantage of your mental state.”

Finished, he turned his head back down toward his book. Starlight stood there in silence, trying to think up a response. Nothing came.

She lifted a hoof, ready to make her way to the engine when she heard a stirring behind her. It was Ocellus, rousing from her sleep. The changeling let out a soft groan and stretched, then sat up with a yawn.

For a moment, Starlight thought that she was going to let loose another barrage of insults. But when she blinked her groggy eyes open and stared up at her, she said, “W-what’s going on? Where am I?”

She sounded calm, but Starlight was sure that if she hadn’t just woken up she’d have had a much stronger reaction. The unicorn swallowed, unsure of how to explain everything.

“Oh good,” Mr. Black said. The sound of a book slamming shut banged behind her. He got out of his seat, arrived to the changeling, and removed his sunglasses so that his blue iris were exposed. He placed the pair down on the headrest and knelt at eye level with Ocellus. “I need you to tell me what you remember.”

Ocellus’s forehead wrinkled in thought. “Who are you?”

“I’m the one that stopped you from killing all of your friends. You would have succeeded if I hadn’t come in. Now tell me, what do you remember?”

“I remember watching a movie and… excuse me, I tried to kill all of my friends?”

He nodded. “Ocellus, my name is Mr. Black. All you need to know about me is that I’m an agent of the law. I have been investigating the murder of two ponies right here in Ponyville. I want you to look me in the eyes.”

Ocellus did as told, her ocelli wide with concern.

“Ocellus,” he continued. “You were the creature who killed those two ponies.”

Concern shifted into confused terror. “W-what!?” she shouted. “I would never—how—” It seemed to hit her that something was blocking her magic as she threw a hoof up to her horn and felt the magic inhibitor. The changeling’s breathing quickened.

“How… what… what’s going on? I didn’t kill anyone, I promise!” Tears streamed down her face, every exhale followed by an airy whistle. “I swear! Please don’t send me back to Detention, I—”

“Calm down,” Mr. Black said, placing a talon on the changeling's shoulder in an attempt to soothe her. It was the most amount of care Starlight had witnessed from the hippogriff since they first met. “It’s not you; not exactly. You’re in trouble, but not with the law. Be aware that you’re in good hands. That said, it’s important that you know there’s a spirit possessing you. We are going to extract it.”

The airy whistling of Ocellus’s breathing died down, and she stared at Mr. Black no longer with confused terror, but just confusion. “Possessed?”

“It might be hard to believe, I know, but tell me this: have you been tired the last few days?”

She nodded slowly.

“Have you experienced any sudden flashbacks to events you don’t recall or lucid dreams in the last few days?”

Again, she nodded slowly. “Yeah…” The realization of what he was saying seeped in, as her entire body shook violently. “There’s a… there’s a… Starlight!” She stared up at the headmare with glazed eyes, voice shaky. “What’s going on?”

“We’re getting you somewhere safe,” Starlight said, trying her best to sound comforting. “I’m possessed too.” She was going to say something along the lines of “But not as bad as you are” but thought better of it. “Our conditions are just about the same, and I’ve been pulling through for this long. I’m sure you will be okay as well, so long as you don’t sleep.”

I hope, Starlight thought. How long had Ocellus been possessed? She understood that the changeling’s mental health tended to fluctuate—that she understood from their countless sessions when she was still the school counselor. And, if what Trixie said was true, it hadn’t changed by much. The death of Lemongrass had probably only worsened her mental state.

“Where are my friends?” Ocellus asked. “I want to see them!”

“We have to keep you isolated,” Mr. Black said. “If we don’t, they too may be corrupted. There’s a good chance one of them may already be, but their condition isn’t as bad as yours and won’t need careful eyes watching their every move. Now tell me…”

He leaned in, staring into the changeling’s ocelli with pure focus. “These dreams you’ve been having. Have you encountered anyone in them?”

Ocellus pulled her head back, clearly taken aback by how close the hippogriff’s face was to hers. “I… don’t know… I don’t know what you want.”

“We need an idea of who this spirit is. If you haven’t met them directly in any dreams, they could still be plunging your mind with night terrors. If you can describe everything you imagined, that may help us figure out their way of thinking.”

“Does… does Queen Tiran mean anything?”

The train car crackled from the sheer force of the wind, and Starlight could have sworn that a cold draft had seeped into the room.

Mr. Black frowned. “Queen Tiran?”

“I think, I think it was in the dream I just woke up from. I don’t remember any of the details, but I remember Queen Tiran. I don’t know how.”

He glanced up at Starlight, who only stared back in befuddlement.

“Queen Tiran…” he mumbled. “Thank you, Ocellus. If you can recall anything else, let me know immediately. For now, I’ll give you a bit to collect your thoughts. I can imagine that this is a lot for you to take in.”

He stood up, put his sunglasses back on, and moved to the other side of the car.

The changeling never looked up at Starlight. Instead, she stared down at the floor, clearly lost in the chamber of her thoughts. She considered saying something, anything, but realized there was nothing else to be said. All she could do was wait for Ocellus to come out of her anguish coma.

She had begun making her way towards the engine car when a harsh whisper called for her. “Headmare Starlight…”

Starlight swiveled back to Ocellus, tears pouring down the changeling’s face. “Did I—” she choked. “Did I kill Lemongrass?”

Starlight regarded her for a moment. Didn’t nod, she didn’t speak. She simply let her silence provide the answer. It was enough to make Ocellus whimper.