---Protean---

Twilight, Spike and I sit in silence around the table, our choice of breakfast in front of each of us. While Twi looks as energetic as always, both myself and Spike look positively exhausted after yesterday.

I unenthusiastically gulp down another spoonful from my bowl of ‘Frosted Celestia-o-s’. They’re Celest-tastic! Since discovering this world’s divine selection of cereals, I’ve been taking a break from toast.

“So, how did the party go?” Twilight prompts.

Spike and I share a glance. One look around the kitchen might begin to give you an idea, but the party had gotten rather… out of hoof, after nopony had thought to stop it from running late into the night.

Streamers are stuck to most surfaces, somehow including the ceiling, and what few of the half-deflated balloons remain bob sadly up and down, the helium inside barely able to support their weight. The sink appears to be filled with a strange green slime, and I daredn’t say how, since there wasn’t any green food or drink served at the party. The floor and kitchen counter are a mess of sticky pink pools from where punch had splashed onto things, and smears of what I am wilfully choosing to believe is icing are visible on a few cupboard doors. Thankfully, the windows seem to have avoided the party hurricane that evidently swept through hear last night, but the curtain rail from the kitchen’s window was not so lucky- it’s currently bent at a near-perfect ninety degree angle. But more importantly it now lies, curtains and all, in the sink.

Neither me nor Spike seem to want to speak, but Twilight clears her throat, making it very clear that she isn’t going to take our silence as an answer.

“Well, y’know…” I start, stalling for time.

“Do I?” Twilight asks, with a smile. I know that smile. That’s the smile of a pony who definitely knows what happened, but wants to see if you’ll try to lie to her first.

“It was her idea!” Spike blurts out. “Ponies started to get tired, and Bookish asked Pinkie if she knew about ‘energy drinks’. Then everything got really out of control!”

“Nice one,” I mutter under my breath.

Last night I’d managed to cook up a theory, after a little experimenting- I think Pinkie Pie knows a lot of things that she just plain shouldn’t be able to know. My first proper test doubled as a fix for the diminishing energy of the party: I asked her if she had any cans of Monster. My suspicions about her were proven right when she managed to produce several bottles from inside her mane, and my memory of the rest of the night is a complete blur from then on.

Twilight’s stare fixates on me, and I swear to Celestia it nearly kills me where I sit.

“I’m really sorry Twilight… And, u-um, in my defense, I didn’t think this would happen?” I offer. “Please don’t be mad!”

At that, Twilight sighs a defeated sigh, and relaxes her glare. “It’s alright… Please don’t feel like you need to take responsibility for this, Bookish. Pinkie Pie, like most of the ponies at that party, are adults.”

I open my mouth to retort that I am an adult, but I’m silenced by Twilight raising her hoof and continuing. “I know you feel like an adult, but you’re not. You have at least fifteen full years before that, so it’s okay to take a step back, and let older ponies take charge.”

I nod, unable to help myself from feeling guilty all the same. “Okay…” I say, in a small voice.

“Honestly, I can’t believe that mare!” Twilight says angrily, before launching into a rant about how this was just like Pinkie, so instead of listening to that, I turned to Spike.

“Sorry again Spike, I didn’t think things through properly.” I say, hoping he isn’t too mad that I trashed one of his favourite rooms through my decisions last night.

He merely shrugs. “It’s no biggie. Like Twi says, you’ve gotta take it easy Bookish- as far as I’m concerned, this is Pinkie’s mess to clean up.”

You too, huh?

I give him a weak smile. “I’ll try my best. I guess I am still getting used to this, right?” I say, gesturing to my body. Spike simply nods by way of a reply, a smile on his lips.

Twilight stops her muttering about Pinkie, a lightbulb all but visible over her head.

She turns to face me. “That reminds me of something important. Come on Bookish, let’s go upstairs.”

We walk up and into my room, and we both sit down on one of the pillows I have on the floor for just this purpose. She fidgets a little on her cushion, smoothing it out with a hoof before laying herself down on it.

Once we’re both comfortable, she speaks up. “Spike told me about what happened in the library yesterday. The headaches are getting worse?”

“I-I…” I stammer. “Yes…”

Here it comes. Damn it Spike, I haven’t told her about this for a reason! Even though she’s told me what to do, I can’t manage to get my magic under control… Twilight’s just going to be disappointed in me, like she always seems to be. I lower my head in shame, and brace myself for the verbal onslaught I’m sure is to come.

But it doesn’t come.

Twilight gently raises my head with a hoof, and the expression I see on her face is one I least expected- guilt.

“I’m so, so sorry Bookish…” she says. “How long has it been- and without me even knowing, I--”

She lowers her hoof, and I take a tentative step towards her. She doesn’t finish whatever she was about to say, and the room momentarily quiets.

“Maybe the problem isn’t just that you can’t focus, but you don’t know what to focus on. Have you been able to draw on your magic at all, yet?” Twilight asks.

I shake my head. “I haven’t really even tried… I’ve been a little afraid to, honestly.”

Twilight looks a little taken aback by that, but hardly misses a beat. “Really? Then I think we should start there. Having a feel for your magic must be the key!”

I smile at that. Twilight’s problem-solving tendencies remind me an awful lot of myself, and I’m glad she wants to help.

“Alright then, let’s do this.” I say, as much to myself as to Twi. “How do we start?”

“Start by getting as comfortable as you can, and closing your eyes.” She says, and after adjusting my sitting position a little, I do so. “Good. Now, can you feel your horn? Focus on it, and tell me what you feel.”

What do I feel? There’s a gentle air current in the room, and I think I can hear the sounds of the town outside-- No, hold on, focus. I take a calming breath, and try again, ignoring my other senses and focusing only on my horn. Once I do, I start to feel a warmth spread throughout my body. It’s subtle, and not unpleasant, but I still feel a noticeable heat. I wonder if that means I’m doing it right?

I let out a gasp. “I can feel… Something! Lots of little things, all around us. I don’t know how to explain it, but I can just tell they’re here. This is… just, wow...”

“You’ve got it!” Twilight says, with a little giggle. “What you’re feeling is the ambient magic of Ponyville. For now, don’t try and do anything, but can you feel any of the magic wanting to come towards you?”

I can. I don’t know how I can tell what the magic ‘wants’, but some of it wants to come towards me. It’s inviting, somehow- beckoning, almost. As if its purpose is to gather to me, and my purpose is to gather it.

I absentmindedly give an affirmative hum, totally absorbed by this new task. Probing my new senses I can feel some sort of tether between my horn and the magic- or to be more precise, hundreds and thousands of tiny little tethers. This must be it! I do the only thing I can think to do: pull.

Heat. My face flushes, the warmth from earlier building abruptly from a pleasant tingle into a powerful heat, and I can feel beads of sweat start to form on my forehead, damping my fur as they fall.

“Bookish,” says Twilight. “You need to let go of that magic. I know it’s tempting, but it’s not yours, and you can’t have it, so you need to push it away.” Her tone is calm, but insistent.

The heat starts to get to me, and my single minded focus breaks. I open my eyes, and see exactly what Twilight means. My vision is filled with a powerful pulsing blue light, centered just above my eyes- on my horn, most likely. It definitely didn’t feel like this much magic when I was pulling it in. God damn it, I got carried away with myself!

I can’t focus anymore, and any sensation of connection I had to the magic around me starts to fray. I try to find the tethers I pulled upon to get myself into this mess, desperately wanting to push them away. I can’t feel them anymore.

I try to whip my head around to where Twilight’s sitting, but my body barely responds. It feels like I’m moving through molasses. If even such a simple movement is nigh impossible, then what about my breathing?

“Twilight?” I say, trying my absolute best to not slip into panic “I don’t think I can? What do I do?”

“Try to stay calm.” she replies.

Easy for you to say. I flit my eyes over to where she is, but I still can’t see her, damn it! My breaths become shallow, and the heat in my horn is starting to burn.

“That’s not working!” I yell, as the blue light starts to pulse and fizzle. My heart’s nearly beating out of my chest, and I feel like I’m gonna pass out from lack of oxygen. “Twilight, help!”

“Bookish! I need you to turn to face me.” she says. I try my best, but my head refuses to turn at anything faster than an agonisingly slow speed. “Put all of your focus on me! Concentrate!”

I finally manage to face her, tears in my eyes from the exertion and stress of it all. She’s standing there with a wide stance, a look of concern and focus on her face. Our eyes meet for a split second, and I see a faint smile of relief on her lips.

Then her horn ignites, and my world is consumed by blinding light.

---Protean---

Pods lined the walls and ceilings of the distribution chamber. The contents of each pod wasn’t visible through the opaque substance that made up their outside, but every changeling knew what they contained- livestock, suspended in a perpetual sleep by the magics and fluids within. The love produced while the animals slept was the main source of food for the hive, and so this room and its contents were of great importance.

All in all, about a third of the hive’s changelings were in some way responsible for maintaining this room, everything from making sure it was optimally lit to protecting the chamber itself from the wildlife of the badlands’ more insistent predators. Among those who worked here was Jet.

Jet’s job was to diligently maintain these pods by cleaning their hard shells and harvesting any filled love crystals, replacing them with empty ones. But all of that was about to change!

He’d been practicing magic when he wasn’t working, and finally it seemed that it had paid off. Mother knew of his devotion, and had finally promoted him to the position of podtender. Fulfilling this elite role in the hive had been Jet’s dream since he was a nymph- and not just for the extra food and love rations. No, Jet’s main motivation for joining the ranks of the spellweaving podtenders was the favour it would earn him from his Queen.

If he could make it to that position, if he was skilled at it, if he could find the right moment to ask… It wasn’t unheard of for the podtenders to take leave from the hive, should they ask for it, as guards to one of the many trade caravans they ran to equestria. He could see the world beyond the badlands, the one that returning infiltrators spoke of so fondly.

But in order to be able to do that, he had to do this. He psyched himself up, and then hovered over to his new supervisor. The larger changeling buzzed his wings in greeting as he approached.

“Jet. Congratulations on becoming a podtender.” he said, making no attempt to hide his lack of enthusiasm. “You are ready to learn?”

Jet nodded, and after a short delay, his supervisor’s jagged horn lit green.

There was a sensation of an invasive presence in his mind, and a dizzying sense of being in two places at once, but after a moment, the knowledge was his. Learning through such a spell wasn’t pleasant, but Jet shook his head clear, his balance holding steady.

“Not bad.” came his supervisor’s gruff voice. “Most of the chaff I get sent don’t stay standing for that. Maybe there’s some hope for you at least.”

Jet didn’t reply, and allowed himself to be led over to one of the room’s many pods. They stopped there, waiting for further instruction. It wasn’t too hard to guess what he’d be told to do though, given the spell he had just been taught. It was the very same spell that had just been used on him, in fact- one that allowed the caster to enter a target’s mind.

His supervisor grunted, and pointed a holed hoof towards the pod. “Go on then. Go inside the livestock’s weak mind, and make it dream of love.”

Jet didn’t need to be told twice. He cast the spell, and suddenly--

His eyes shot wide open, and he staggered back from the pod, bile rising in his throat even as he frantically tried to cut the flow of his magic. He caught a hoof on a rock and fell to the floor, where he lay there, quivering. That wasn’t the mind of a simple creature like a cow, or a dog. That was a pony. A living, breathing adult pony. A pony with a family, and friends, and...

Tears formed in the corner of his eyes as he threw up the contents of his stomach in front of him. His supervisor groaned, walking slowly over to Jet’s side.

“A misfire?” he said, sighing. “We’ve all done that at some point, I guess. Can you stand, Jet?”

‘It wasn’t a misfire,’ Jet almost corrected him, but thought better of it. He’d been given an out, and he knew to take it.

“Yesh..” he slurred, before wiping his muzzle off with one of his forelegs. “My bad.”

After helping Jet to his hooves, the larger changeling chirped in amusement. “Bad? It takes most drones days to be able to connect to a pod properly. Even though you stumbled at the last step, you exceeded my expectations. Mother was right to send you here.”

Jet’s stomach churned at that. This had been his dream, hadn’t it? He looked around the room, taking in for the first time the sheer size and scale of the distribution chamber, with what must be hundreds of pods lining its walls. Hundreds of ponies lining its walls.

This wasn’t right. What Mother was doing in here was wrong. Those ponies were alive, just like he and the others in the hive were. How could she not see that, how could the others not see that?

Jet’s oblivious supervisor gave him a little smile. “I didn’t mean it last time, so let me just say: congratulations on becoming a podtender, Jet!”

Author's Note

Here we are again! So many things happening, and all so fast... Do let me know what y’all think about what we have going on, but do know that just reading on is enough for me

Have a wonderful week, and don’t forget to hydrate! (or you will instead diedrate)