Changeling Theory

Knock Knock

“Come in!” Trixie called without looking up from her paperwork.

The door to the counselor's office swung open and in walked Smolder. The door slammed shut behind her. “What did you need me for?” she said with her arms crossed and face deadpanned.

With barely a glance over, Trixie flicked the quill that hovered in the air toward the couch. “Sit.”

Smolder remained idle. “Why?”

“Just sit. This will be quick.”

Smolder did as told. She walked around the couch and plopped down on it.

Trixie set the quill down next to the paper she was working on. She took her glasses off with her magic, folded them up, and sat them down too.

“You wear glasses now?” the dragon commented.

“Trixie would like to talk about what happened in the locker room the other day,” Trixie interjected.

Smolder crossed her arms again and leaned back into the cushions with eyebrows raised inquisitively. “What about it?”

Trixie waved a hoof in Smolder’s direction. “Do you want to tell me first?”

“What’s there to tell ya?”

“What happened in the locker room after cheer practice?”

Smolder shrugged. “Beats me.” The dragon’s eyes began to scan the room, perhaps for a possible escape route or an idea to switch the subject on.

“You don’t remember?”

The dragon shook her head quickly. “Nah. I would if it was something important.”

Trixie glared at her and held that stare for what felt like a very long minute to Smolder. “That’s strange,” Trixie finally said. “Trixie was under the impression that dragons have excellent memories. Better than a pony’s, in fact.”

Smolder found a sudden interest in her claws and began examining them closely. She extended her arm out and splayed all of her fingers out, searching for any sign of flaws. “Yeah, well you thought wrong. My memory is shit.”

“I’ll excuse the language considering the circumstances that I brought you in here for. Bad memory or not, several witnesses came to Trixie and said that you —”

“They lied,” Smolder interrupted, suddenly sitting up. “I’m not exactly a ‘team player.’ Of course, they’ll lie about something so ridiculous just to get me in trouble!”

Trixie nodded. “Of course. And how are things going outside of school?”

Smolder cleared her throat. “Fine.”

“Yona tells Trixie that you have difficulty getting out of bed in the morning?”

For the first time since Smolder arrived in the counselor’s office, she made eye contact with Trixie at the mention of Yona. It was only for a second, but it was enough for Trixie to know that she had the dragon reeled in.

Smolder smirked and forced out a chuckle. “Who doesn’t have trouble waking up?”

Trixie nodded again. “This is true. Trixie finds that she can’t start her day without her morning cup of coffee. However, there’s also the matter of how you conduct yourself in general. Your teachers’ reports clarify that you never participate in group activities — that you like to hang back and let the others do all of the work.”

“So?”

“Also that you have trouble turning in solo assignments. This is unusual because last semester you turned in every single assignment given to you. They also say that during free periods when everycreature is talking, you prefer to remain silent.”

Smolder scowled at the counselor and gritted her teeth. “What’s all this leading to?”

“We’re concerned for your mental health. Have you harmed yourself in any way recently?”

“I’m going to stop you right there!” Smolder blurted, her claw pointing accusingly toward Trixie. “Whoever told you that is full of crap.”

“Your behavior in this room says otherwise,” the counselor said.

Smolder opened her mouth, about to make a retort, when some recognition of what she was doing dawned in her eyes. The dragon closed her maw and leaned back against the couch with a huff, crossing her arms for the third time since she arrived in the room.

“Whatja looking for?” Smolder said, shooting a stern glare toward the mare across from her, smoke filtering from her nostrils.

“I want you to know, if you ever need anycreature to talk to, I’m here.”

“Yeah, and?”

“There’s no shame in admitting there’s something wrong with you. If you have something to say, come out and say it.”

Smolder leaned forward, placing an elbow on her knee and picking at her teeth with a claw. “What’s there to say?” she said. “I’ve got nothing to add.”

“Trixie thinks you’re deflecting.”

“Oh?” Smolder snapped. “What makes you think that?”

“Your mannerisms. How your voice fluctuates. The simple fact that you’re uncomfortable right now.”

Smolder placed her claws on both of her knees this time and shuffled forward. She shook her head. “I’m not uncomfortable right now.”

Trixie gave the dragon a stern gaze. “Right. So, do you have anything you want to say to me?”

“Nope.”

Trixie nodded. “Okay,” she said. The piece of paper in front of her floated off the desk and glided toward Smolder, who swiped it from the air.

She uncrumpled it in her talons and looked down at what was written. “What’s this?”

“That’s the address of a support group in town. If you feel like you need to talk to someone, then —”

“Can I go now?”

Trixie nodded and gestured with her hoof toward the door. “Be off. And remember, if you ever need something I’ll be—”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Smolder interrupted, already giving Trixie her tail. “See ya.”

She made sure to slam the door extra hard.

~•~

Smolder crumbled up the paper and set it aflame with a simple puff from her snout. After opening the door to the courtyard, she threw the blackening memento out into the snow and shut the door. Just the sight of it made her want to contort her face in rage.

Whatever… she thought. I don’t even need it. I have the address memorized.

She wandered down the corridor. Her thoughts were everywhere, not a single one finding a foothold for linear progression. One would come up, and it would be clouded by the next. There she was in the room with Counselor Trixie, there she was in the locker room after cheer practice, and now here she was trying to figure out a way to not go to the meetings without Counselor Trixie finding out. Perhaps she could bribe the organizer?

“Excuse me!” came a voice from down the hall.

Smolder looked up to see the tallest hippogriff she had ever seen prancing her way. She knew that hippogriffs could grow to be pretty big, but to see one of that size and stature in person was enough for her to stop and gawk out of sheer curiosity.

The hippogriff stopped in front of her, panting. “Winded myself a little there,” he chuckled. He had a smooth voice with an almost musical undertone. The hippogriff had obsidian black feathers with tufts of white sprouting down his chest like a tuxedo. The most notable feature, however, was his sunglasses. It was how he didn’t tilt his head down to communicate with her. To any other creature, it would have been intimidating. To Smolder, it made him look like a punk. If this stranger was a punk, then woah boy, would she love to shove her claws right up his—

“Sorry to bother you, but I’m lost.”

Smolder looked up at his face. He only stood a head taller, which is perfect punching height if someone asked her. An upswing would set him adaze, and then she could use some of her fire breath to chase him off… although she knew that she was just on edge from her meeting with Counselor Trixie.

Smolder crossed her arms and snorted, a cloud of smoke puffing through her nostrils and wafting into his face. He stood there, waiting for a response, unflinching.

“Yeah, and?” she said rudely.

Nothing on the hippogriff's face shifted, but he did place a talon against his chest in defense. “I would just like to know where the headmare’s office is. I’m supposed to have a meeting with her.”

Smolder nudged her head toward the hallway behind her. “Down the hall, turn the corner. It’s smackdab at the end. Later.”

Smolder had just walked past him when he cleared his throat. “Are you the only dragon at this school?”

She stopped, turned around with an eyebrow raised. “What’s it to you?”

“Nothing,” the hippogriff said. “I’ve just never seen a dragon before.”

Smolder gave him a single nod. “I’ve never seen a hippogriff your size before.”

“So that makes that makes something we've both never seen.”

“Hm,” Smolder hummed. Figuring that the conversation was over, she turned back around and began walking down the hallway again. “Later.”

"Goodbye."

The two parted, and Smolder headed over toward the cafeteria, the delicious scent of pizza tickling her nostrils.

~•~

Starlight gently blew and watched the neatly rolled-up scroll wheel across the surface of the desk before falling over the edge. She huffed a contemptuous sigh and closed her eyes. It felt good, but it could do more. Starlight was tired, but her mind was so occupied with all of time at once that she couldn’t even get a wink of sleep.

She stayed up the entirety of the other night talking to guards, writing letters to Twilight — just trying to sort through the whole mess. When the mess was taken care of (if that could be said), there was still the matter of grading the semester’s finals. Trixie said she would do the rest, then Starlight had that nightmare, and at most, she got an estimate of twenty minutes sleep out of the thirty-four hours she had been awake.

Starlight glanced over toward the sundial clock at the edge of her desk and wanted to shake and scream at it. It was nearing noon, and she still hadn’t had any shuteye. She rolled her forehead along the desk’s surface and tried to stop light from shining through her eyelids by blocking it with an arm, but that just felt uncomfortable. Then, as she slowly began to drift away again, there came a knock at the door.

It was so sudden that she was startled, and for only a second, she forgot how tired she was. Then the wave came back, and her head felt heavy. She groaned inwardly.

Sighing, she yelled, “Come in!”

The door on the other side of the room swung open, and in walked a hippogriff. Starlight had seen hippogriffs before, but something about this one was… different. It could have been the way the feathers on his head were slicked back or the shades on his face. Perhaps it was the broad smile he wore. It could also be that she was tired.

“Hi!” he said, stopping directly in front of her desk. “Are you the headmare?”

Starlight nodded. “Yes. You can call me —”

“Headmare Starlight. I’m familiar with you.”

Starlight shut her mouth immediately and squinted at the mysterious hippogriff. “Have we met?”

The hippogriff sat on his haunches and leaned against the desk, right arm placed along the edge and a single claw twirling around the rim of a mug. His face remained set onto hers. “I spoke to the blue one. The counselor, is she?”

He waited for a response, and Starlight gave him one in the form of a very small nod.

“She said you came into the teacher’s lounge acting a little berserk. That you blew up the coffee maker, and —”

“Okay, who are you?” Starlight interrupted. If she wasn’t so tired she would have the restraint to hold back any rude comments, but almost two nights without any sleep is enough to make anyone short-tempered.

“Who am I?” The hippogriff straightened up, picked his arm up from the edge of the desk, and pointed at himself. “Well, yes, I suppose I haven’t introduced myself yet…” He lifted his wing, revealing a black leather satchel at his side. He pulled out something shiny and held it in front of Starlight’s face. “I’m with Canterlot’s detective branch. I was sent to investigate the happenings here in Ponyville.”

He was slipping the badge back into the satchel when Starlight asked, “Is there a name I can call you, detective?”

The hippogriff snorted. “Besides asshole, douchebag, or loon? You can call me Mr. Black.”

“Hmm,” Starlight hummed. “That sounds like an alias.”

“My real name will not be disclosed during this conversation. All information about myself is to remain strictly confidential. You don’t know me, and I know more about you than you should care for me to know about you.”

Starlight gave Mr. Black an uneasy stare. “Right,” she muttered. “So, Lemongrass…”

“I suspect there’s a killer about. Although, I suspect it was obvious to you as well.”

Starlight raised her brows but nodded for him to continue.

“The coroner says it was an animal from the Everfree, and the Ponyville Police Department agrees. The question is, what kind of animal would walk through town in the middle of the night to attack a student in an enclosed era?”

“So what do you think?”

“I think the murderer is someone at this school.”

Starlight reared her head back in wide-eyed shock. As much as it didn’t surprise her to hear that it could have been one of the students, the simple vocalization homed in the fact for her.

“This is just a hunch,” Mr. Black continued, “but it’s a good hunch. A mountain stands behind the school, so there is no escaping from out the back. Meaning that if it was a creature from the Everfree, it would have to enter through the other side of town without spooking anyone. Not just that, but another body was found earlier this morning.”

Starlight grew pale. I knew it, she thought. I knew that dream was real. The feeling was surreal. She had simultaneously felt in and out of her body when it happened, and the confirmation that it actually happened was enough to make her want to hurl.

She took a deep gulp. Maybe it was a different body? Maybe, in some bizarre twist, the trauma evoked her brain to process some nightmare where she would bear witness to another murder. Maybe Skeedaddle was still alive and she could breathe a sigh of relief… or maybe not in this case, when the subject of another murder was being discussed.

She inhaled air through her nostrils. “Was it a student?”

“No. But, it was a colt.”

He said it as simply as one would say, “It’s going to rain.” Immediately, Starlight’s face grew paler.

“Is there a name to it?” she forced out.

“As of now? The body still has yet to be identified. His head had been completely crushed, rendering him unrecognizable. He hadn’t even gotten his cutie mark yet.”

It was both real and unreal. Starlight felt like she was in a dream state where reality flowed like water. She saw it. Starlight saw Skeedaddle get murdered and was completely helpless to stop it. The sheer memory of it—the exact crackling sounds his skull made; the contours of his face caving; the way his brain matter drizzled down his—

Starlight didn’t realize that she hadn’t eaten in the last two days until she hunched over, lurched into the trashcan next to her desk, and all that came out was stomach acid. She was almost glad she hadn’t eaten too, because if she could have, she would have sat in her office all day cuddled up next to the canister.

Mr. Black stood up and came around the desk, for the first time actually tilting his head down to look at Starlight. “Listen,” he said, patting the mare’s back as her head hung over the hole. “I know it’s difficult, but I need information. The colt’s body was found on the outskirts nearest to the school. If Lemongrass was found in the courtyard, and the unidentified colt was found nearby, that must mean that the murderer is here at the school.”

Starlight didn’t want to hear it. She couldn’t hear it. Mr. Black’s voice was white noise. Starlight sat up and leaned her back against the wall with bile-infused saliva drooling down her chin. All she could hear was ticking.

Then, the whole world came back as Mr. Black snapped his claws in front of her face. “I need you here with me. I asked a question.”

The hippogriff moved the trashcan aside and laid down on his stomach in front of Starlight, coming face-to-face with her. He reached an arm toward his face and removed his sunglasses, revealing pure blue irises that shined beneath the lights of the room. The expression on his face was one of concern.

“Are there any carnivores in this school?”

“W-why?” Starlight uttered.

Mr. Black glanced back toward the trashcan and nodded his head toward it. “Are you going to need that again?”

Starlight shook her head lightly. “I think that’s all my body will allow.”

“Okay,” the hippogriff bobbed his head up and down. “Pieces of Lemongrass’s brain were found with bite marks.”

She clenched her eyes shut, feeling more of that queasy urge to vomit.

“It was different with the colt. We found pieces mushed up, but they were pieces nonetheless. While his head was crushed, Lemongrass’s was gnawed off. This gives me the impression that the culprit is not only a fang-toothed creature but has the power to crack a skull without repeated force. I need to know: do you have any such students?”

“N-nah—” Starlight was trying to find a way to say no. Was there a student like that? The only fang-toothed creature in the school was Smolder, but Starlight knew it wasn’t her. She knew without a doubt that the only creature capable of doing that was—

“Do you have any creatures at this school with shapeshifting abilities?”

It was like he read her mind, and when Starlight glanced into his eyes, it looked as if he was boring into her very soul.

“Ye-yes,” she answered. “We have a changeling. But why—”

“I was just curious.” The hippogriff put his sunglasses on and stood back up, then looked down at her. “Where is your library? I need to do a bit of research.”

Starlight stared up at him. “It’s… in the east wing. Down the hall from the cafeteria.”

“Right, thank you. And might I procure the student catalog whenever you are feeling up to it?”

Starlight nodded, feeling dizzy as she did.

“Great,” he said, turning around and heading toward the door. “I’ll come to you when I have more questions.”

The door to the room slammed shut, and Starlight was left alone with her thoughts. She sat there for exactly half an hour long. She would know: she kept count of the minutes.

~•~

Ocellus woke up and thought it was night. Then, she felt the cold, hard floor against her back and realized that she wasn’t even in her room. She wasn’t sure where she was, except that it was a place with no windows, was very dark, and had a weird fermenting smell.

A peculiar howl sang beyond the darkness. It was like a dozen low-pitched whistles had been taken and distorted to make a sound that closely resembled something of an otherworldly creature. She sat up, trying to peer through the darkness.

When nothing resonated with her vision, Ocellus lit her horn so that it emitted a dim glow. And she shrieked.

All over, the floor was blood, dried to the point of crust. The changeling looked down and saw that she too was covered in blood. Lots of it. She might as well have bathed in it. The sheer sight of it was enough to make her shriek louder and tears blur her vision.

She stood up, forcing the ball of light at the end of her horn to brighten — then she saw it. It, per se, stepped back into the darkness, and through her tear-blind ocelli, she saw the long limb of a creature’s leg. It made a noise that sounded like a million screams, albeit brief.

Ocellus stepped back, breathing heavily. It’s just a dream, it’s just a dream… she thought. She continued to back up, hoping that her rear-end would brush up against a wall, which she could use to guide herself out. A head appeared from the darkness.

Ocellus jolted in shock, thinking for a moment that the creature was coming out of the black to snatch her, but she breathed a sigh of relief when she realized that it was a colt.

He had a bi-colored mane and blue coat, and although she had never met him, Ocellus had seen him around town occasionally, especially around the CMC.

“What are you doing here?” she asked him in a gentle whisper. “Are your parents around?”

The colt blinked and continued to stare at her. Ocellus blinked back and took a step forward, and that was when it happened. The colt’s right eyeball popped out of its socket and dangled over his cheek. Ocellus screamed and stumbled backward.

“Where are you going?” it said. Blood dribbled from its mouth as it spoke.

Ocellus didn’t stop to inquire. She turned and ran in the other direction. She wouldn’t even say it was like navigating a maze because, in a maze, she would have an indication of where to go. So, the changeling continued to run, run, and run, in an endless direction. Until she tripped.

Strange liquid splashed everywhere as she fell into a pool of sorts. Her mouth filled with the taste of copper, and Ocellus had a good idea of what she fell into. But she didn’t want to admit it. Denial was the best suppressant to get her away from all this trauma.

The changeling resurfaced and opened her eyes, leering beyond the lake of red. As nauseous as it made her feel, she had to cross it. It was either that or take her chances with that thing behind her.

The sudden reminder of that thing supposedly still creeping up on her was enough to make Ocellus start running, picking up waves of crimson as she did. At some point, one of her legs brushed against something soft, and she almost tripped a few times. Her motivation to get across was what saved her. Ocellus wanted to stop and hurl right there, but she had to do this first! She would stave off the vomiting when she reached the end.

Just when the changeling thought she would never reach the other side, a ledge that stood only a tad taller than herself came into view. Ocellus’s splashing halted as relief flooded her body. Then, she heard it: something in the distance splashed behind her.

Fueled by panic once again, Ocellus fluttered her wings and tried taking to the air. She got about a foot above the surface of the rich red ichor before something grabbed her hind leg and tried to pull her back beneath the surface.

She managed to get her hooves over the ledge, although that wasn’t enough. The thing trying to pull her in responded by tugging harder. Ocellus, forelegs covered and lubricated with the dark liquid, screamed as her hooves nearly slipped from the ledge. She was sure that the thing had her, but as she was about to fall in, another hoof came out of the darkness and hooked over her foreleg.

Ocellus looked up at the figure that was holding onto her and wanted to scream again. She wanted to scream as loud as she could on the off-chance that it could somehow pierce the creature’s ears so that it’d let go of her and she could try her luck out with the thing already trying to drag her into the pool of red ichor.

The creature in front of her was a pony. And that pony was Lemongrass. Only, she was missing the top of her head, and her eyes were bloodshot to the point that it made her look demonic.

“It’s in Canterlot,” the creature whispered. “Go to Canterlot.”

“What?” Ocellus yelled back at it. “What are you talking about?”

“Go to Canterlot,” Lemongrass said again.

She let go of Ocellus. The changeling screamed, and the scream was replaced by gurgling as she got quickly dragged beneath the surface of the blood.