Without a Hive

Chapters

Chapter 1: Leaving Home
Chapter 2: Lessons and Losses
Chapter 3: Alone
Chapter 4: Welcome to the Herd
Chapter 5: Monsters
Chapter 6: Back and Forth
Chapter 7: Perspectives
Chapter 8: Shadows of the City
Chapter 9: Journey
Chapter 10: Renewal
Chapter 11: Correspondence
Chapter 12: Another Life
Chapter 13: Holidays
Chapter 14: The City of The Sun
Chapter 15: In Darkness
Chapter 16: A New Day
Chapter 17: Taking Flight
Chapter 18: Impossible Things
Chapter 19: Sympathy for Prey
Chapter 20: Connections
Chapter 21: Another Way
Epilogue
An Old Life

Chapter 1: Leaving Home

Chapter 1: Leaving Home

The hive cut deep into the earth, twisting and curving upon itself in a network of tunnels and chambers. Inside it was dark and humid, lit only by small patches of bioluminescent goo. It was the only light to be had so far beneath the surface, but it was more than enough for the changelings that lived here. They moved about with a purpose, carrying out the constant maintenance the hive needed to survive. The air was hot and stifling from the presence of so many beings in those tight confines, carrying a musty scent that grew particularly strong in the deepest chambers, where the workers had to constantly battle the water that seeped in through the walls. That struggle had left many surfaces covered in a dark, waxy substance, the workers' glue-like spit, long since dried up. In these lower chambers, it was so prevalent that it was rare to see bare stone.

Nictis darted down the tunnel, the waxy surface giving just slightly under his hooves. He was still just a nymph, several molts from being fully grown, and still noticeably smaller than the adult changelings moving about the hive. He used his small size to his advantage, weaving his way quickly through the crowded tunnel until he finally emerged into a gigantic chamber. As soon as he made it clear of the crowd, he leaped into the air, his tiny wings buzzing frantically. They had grown in only a couple of molts ago, and while he was still rather inexperienced with using them, he’d learned enough to fly.

This was by far the largest open space inside the hive, a huge, open chamber, with dozens of chasms and crevices disappearing into the darkness. It was also the busiest area, with hundreds of changelings flying about, carrying out their work. Nictis weaved through them, making his way to the center of the chamber. There rose the great, jagged spire, home to their queen. It was an impressive creation, marked with many ledges, with one large, terraced ledge dominating the structure. There sat the Queen's throne, and the Queen herself. From there she oversaw the hive, giving the drones direction. There was something glorious about her, a changeling unlike any other, and even such distant glimpses never failed to stir something inside Nictis. There was a sense of pride, not in his own accomplishments, but in what the hive could accomplish.

He turned slightly and began to descend. It wasn't the spire that he was flying to, but a chamber nearby, the entrance laying at the tower's base. Excitement was starting to build inside him as he landed and quickly made his way inside.

Today was a special day.

"You're early."

Nictis drew to a halt at the familiar voice, the speaker laying on the far side of the small chamber. Ceymi. Princess Ceymi, actually, one of the very few princesses of the hive. She looked much like the queen, with the same piercing green eyes and the same color mane, though she was rather smaller in size, roughly at the midpoint between the drones and the queen herself. Laying by a glowing pool, with a scroll and quill clutched in her magic, she was currently staring straight at him.

"I was eager to get started on today's lesson," he said cheerfully.

He liked her. The princesses were born directly of the Queen herself, and alongside her, were the mothers of the hive. They were few in number and set to only to the most important tasks. The thought stirred up his pride again; he was important enough to warrant the attention of a princess.

Well, okay, not him alone. Despite them being alone at the moment, he knew several more nymphs would be joining them soon. Still, for the moment he could entertain himself with the illusion that he warranted the attention himself.

She remained eying him for a few moments, her emotions closed to him. "A transparent lie, particularly when combined with the change in behavior. Nevertheless, a good use of a misdirecting and misleading truth, and I have to admit that your enthusiasm is somewhat pleasing." He fought the urge to grin. "Assuming it doesn't lead to overconfidence, that is. In any case, being early will not bring your lessons any sooner."

She turned back to her writing, leaving him to quietly take a seat and wait. The minor praise might be steeped in criticism, but the fact that it was there at all was enough to make him happy. She was difficult to please, which made any compliment all the greater.

Silently he waited, watching her. The minutes passed by, but despite his anticipation, he kept his silence. He knew what was coming, and it was far too important to ruin with his over-eagerness. Today was the chance to prove himself, to pursue his greatest hope and dream. The chance to gain one of the most important roles a changeling could aspire to, a chance to aid the entire hive.

It was not long before the next nymph arrived. It was Cobalt, who Nictis had always found somewhat annoying, though that was mainly because Cobalt seemed just a little bit too good at what he did. Ceymi didn't even glance over at the newcomer, who, upon seeing Nictis already quietly seated, did the same himself. Over the next few minutes, several more nymphs arrived, some individually, some in chatty groups, but all were respectfully quiet and patient, waiting for Ceymi.

Eventually, she rolled up the scroll she was writing on, tucked it and her pen into a small wooden box, and rose. Her eyes scanned over them as she approached to stand before the small group. "Well. I see you all decided to show up on time, today. I suppose that's for the best."

She said it in a tone that hinted at disappointment. Ceymi had made it clear many months ago that if any of them were to show the disrespect of being late, then they would be dismissed from the lessons planned for the day. None of them wanted to risk such a setback, and Nictis knew that today was far more important than just any normal lesson.

Ceymi continued. "So far, you have been primarily studying and practicing theory. Some of you have grasped this theory. Others, who are no longer with us, could not even manage that much." Several nymphs grinned a bit at that. "But knowing the theory, the elements of a good deception, will do nothing if you can not apply those skills in a practical manner. Which brings us to today."

She paced slowly in front of them, casting a hard, challenging glare across them. Grins vanished, every nymph looking to her with cautious respect. "Today, I intend to begin teaching and testing you in a more applied setting. You will all be given opportunities to show me that you can actually make use of what I have been trying to force into your heads."

She stopped abruptly, staring at them for a few silent moments. "And we will start now with a simple test." Without warning, she pointed a hoof at one of the nymphs, Shift. He rocked back, blinking. "Tell a lie."

There was only an instant of hesitation before he smiled. "You're looking particularly beautiful today."

A few snickers rose from the gather students, and even more when Ceymi rapped her hoof sharply on the nymph's chitinous head. "I said to lie," Ceymi said coldly, while Shift tried to look as small as he could. "And I would expect better judgment when addressing one who holds your future in her hooves."

The hoof swung to the next nymph, Rock, who immediately blurted out, "The sky is brown!"

Ceymi scowled. "Horrible. Unnatural delivery is bad enough, even without attempting to lie about something so blatantly false and so easily disproved."

Rock tucked his head down, murmuring. "I'm sorry, I didn't have any time to think."

At this, Ceymi bristled, causing a few of the nymphs to draw back reflexively. "You had more time than Shift, and he at least used some wit, which is more than can be said for you! You'll have even less time when you're confronted by a suspicious prey. If you can't come up with a convincing lie, at least have the common sense to evade the subject until you can. I expect better of you."

Her hoof swung to Skib, who shrugged. "I thought his lie was fairly decent."

Ceymi glared at him expressionlessly. Nictis could only imagine what thoughts were going through her head. Was she furious at such a bad lie, or would the underhanded criticism of Rock's attempt win out? Skib tried to look absolutely convinced of what he said, but after several seconds he was already starting to shrink back.

Without a word, she swung her hoof to Nictis.

He did his best to grumble and look displeased. "I haven't got a clue what we're going to be doing tonight."

There was a moment of silence before a single snort of amusement came from Ceymi; Nictis felt elated at the sign of approval.

The hint of amusement was quickly wiped away, her voice again dry and critical. "Cute, but you already used that one. Still, points for consistency. Even a mediocre lie can be bolstered by consistency." Her eyes narrowed a bit. "But considering that I saw you spying on me last night, I'd rank that as a rather bad lie." Crap. "The initiative is commendable, but when you attempt such a thing in the future I hope you'll have the common sense to disguise yourself first."

Nictis sunk down as the hoof swung away to the next nymph, Cobalt.

"Nictis told me what you have planned for today."

Nictis sat up indignantly, glaring at the other nymph, but not daring to speak out of turn. Fortunately, Ceymi snorted disdainfully. "I saw you too, Cobalt, and I doubt Nictis would tell you if you were on fire."

She moved on to the next, while Nictis gave a grim grin. I probably would, he thought. ...eventually.

When she was finally done with her impromptu test, she sighed, taking a few steps away. "That was not particularly encouraging. Still, most of those were not too horrible--"

A few nymphs cringed, feeling certain she was speaking of them, specifically.

"--so it shall suffice for the moment. Now go and prepare. Lockbar has been instructed to let you all take your fill. Meet back in the upper chamber. In thirty minutes we will leave the hive, and any who have not joined us will be left behind." She struck her hoof against the floor, producing a sharp sound against the resinous surface of the chamber. "Go!"

The nymphs all lept to their hooves in excitement and scrambled out. A few shoves were given, a few legs tripped up. Rock swerved to the side, slamming into Nictis's shoulder and knocking him over, a few other nymphs treading on him, though his carapace protected him from any injury. Ceymi watched without expression. They had long ago learned that she encouraged a degree of rivalry and underhandedness as a good way of honing their budding skills. They had also long ago learned to not take things too far. A few months earlier, another student had seen Shift as a rival and had broken his leg. Ceymi had nearly throttled the other nymph before magically throwing him from the chamber, never to return. She then made it very clear that it was one thing to practice the skills she taught them, but it was something completely different to deprive the hive of something of value.

Picking himself up, Nictis scrambled after the others.

It took less than twenty minutes. The nymphs poured into the feeding chambers, only settling down when the keeper, Lockbar, confronted them. None of them wanted to cause trouble for him, not when they had something so urgent ahead of them. They were relatively peaceful as they quietly approached the feeding pool that dominated the chamber. The pool glowed with the energies poured into it, casting the chamber in a deep green hue. Between this and the cocoon chamber beyond, Lockbar's little domain was possibly the most vital location in the hive. It was here that the love and other positive emotions various changelings stole could be pooled so that the entire hive could feed on its power.

The nymphs lowered their horns, casting the first spell that any changeling learns. Thin tendrils of green energy wisped their way from the surface of the pool, reaching to the many horns, and seeping in. It was always such a wonderful experience. Nictis could feel he strengthening energy flowing into him, the vestiges of fatigue and soreness he hadn't even noticed before washing away, a feeling of power building inside him. It was a rare treat to be allowed to draw in so much energy. There was always plenty of physical food, mainly a mush of fungus harvested from the dark caves of the hive, but he was usually only permitted to draw just enough emotional food to remain healthy, a little bit every few days. It was enough to sustain, but not enough to satisfy. The energy was normally too precious to waste through overindulgence. Holding more energy than needed consumed it even faster, but even with that inefficiency, the amount he now held could sustain him for weeks if he were careful with his magic.

Soon many of the nymphs were scurrying off toward the upper chamber, though several of them--Nictis included--were content with a more relaxed pace. They were still well ahead of schedule.

Ceymi waited for them, standing regally in the upper chamber, the last common chamber before the surface. She spoke as soon as the last student entered. "I'm glad you decided to finally join us," she said, while Nictis smiled slightly to himself. Even at his relaxed pace, he knew better than to be the last one to arrive. "Since we're all here, we shall start now, and we shall start with a warning."

Every nymph was paying rapt attention as she continued. "Until now, I have been quite lenient with you, but that ends now. From this moment on, your failings will hurt not just yourself, but the entire hive. Such is the importance of the Infiltrators."

Several nymphs murmured and shifted about in excitement, but she silenced them with a glare. "Beside the Queen, there is no more important role than the Infiltrator. They gather the love that feeds our hive. They bring us knowledge. They misdirect our foes. They are our survival... and our vulnerability." With the last comment, she swept her glare across her students, but none made even the tiniest of sounds. "Let me leave no illusion, little ones. Our prey is dangerous. Deception is our armor, but an incompetent Infiltrator can tear that armor away in an instant. We survive on the simple fact that our foes do not even know that we exist. If we were to be exposed, if our prey were to even know that they were being hunted, the retribution would be beyond your comprehension. They would come in numbers and with power that you can not yet imagine."

"As such, an Infiltrator must protect our secret with his very life. For that reason, most of you will not become Infiltrators. Most of you will be able to better serve the hive as soldiers, or workers, or whatever vital role you will fit best in." The corner of her mouth quirked up in a faint smirk, hinting at what she thought of such roles. "I will still teach you, to give you every opportunity to master this task, but if I am not completely convinced that you will excel in this role, if I think there is even the slightest chance that you will fail to preserve our secret, then you will be dismissed from my service."

She stood back, regarding them a moment. "If any of you think you are incapable or unwilling to lay down your life to protect the hive, leave now."

Nictis kept himself rigidly still, every other nymph doing the same. Lay down his life for the hive? He supposed he could... if there were no other choice. Probably. He was sure he could avoid that, of course. This all seemed a little over the top, to him. He had often heard that their prey outnumbered them, but they lived in a nearly impregnable hive, with tough, skilled warriors, and a queen of incredible power. Surely they couldn't be that dangerous?

Ceymi almost seemed irritated when nobody left. "No matter. If it becomes necessary in order to keep our secret, I will kill you myself. Now then, I expect you to heed every word I say. We are going into dangerous territory, and you will follow my commands without question. Today we will be entering the most dangerous phase of your training and evaluation, as you start putting what I've taught you to practical use against our prey. You will learn their form. You will move among them. You will convince them of your lies. Do this well, and a few of you may someday become Infiltrators."

She turned, stalking toward the exit that led toward the surface. "Come. We fly for Equestria."

Daylight was almost blinding after the dimness of the hive. The sun cast bright rays past the great upper spires of the hive, the soldiers weaving among them casting long shadows. Nictis blinked against the light, following the miniature swarm as they rose up into the air, Ceymi in the lead, flanked by a pair of soldiers, and the nymphs following along behind.

Flying past the spires that housed the soldiers, ready to defend the hive, the broad wasteland beyond came into view. The air was no cooler than in the hive, but it was fresher, despite the rugged desolation of the landscape. It was an almost alien sight. Only once had he seen the outside world, from one of those spires, and then only at night. To see such a vast space, the unending sky, all of it lit up by a brilliant light, it seemed unnatural to one used to the dim chambers of the hive. It was one thing to hear the descriptions of the world, the kingdoms beyond the hive, all the strange sights and smells, but it hadn't prepared him for actually experiencing it all himself.

The hive itself was nestled in a deep crag of barren rock, cliffs and jagged monoliths surrounding and hiding the spires, which a casual observer might easily mistake for just another feature of the terrain. Even if it was found, the soldiers he had heard discussing the matter had spoken highly of the hive's security. Any attacker would have to travel through the seemingly endless wasteland of parched earth and jagged rock, find the hive itself among the many hundreds of canyons and crags, fight their way into a fortified entrance, and then down through dark, narrow tunnels. That memory made him think again of what Ceymi had said. Of course it would be best to preserve their secret, but it seemed that it couldn't be as apocalyptic as she had said. Perhaps she was just trying to keep them cautious. That would be good enough of a reason all on its own.

"We have a long flight ahead," Ceymi called back, interrupting his thoughts. "We will travel by dark. Do not get separated. Water is nigh impossible to find if you do not know where to look, and the forest beyond hides many monsters that would love to feast on a foolish nymph wandering aimlessly on his own. In three nights, we should reach the fringes of Equestria."

With that, she dove, flying swiftly over the barren wastes, her entourage following in her wake.

Three nights of flying were paired with two days of rest and lecturing. Where before Ceymi had been teaching them the methodology of deceit, now she spent her time teaching them of their prospective prey.

"The ponies of Equestria are our greatest source of sustenance," she had said. "They are very social creatures, full of love and compassion for one another. They seem remarkably predisposed toward friendship, happily helping complete strangers, or becoming good friends for the slimmest of reasons. They are ripe for infiltration, and their abundance of love returns a veritable feast. On top of that, they are weak as individuals. Most lack either the ability to fly or to use magic, with many lacking both. Only the most vanishingly rare of ponies can do both. And none of them have our... versatility."

Her tone had grown dark, eyes narrowing to a warning glare. "But, these ponies are also the most dangerous enemy we have ever encountered. They have turned those same weaknesses into something mighty. Their easy friendship and social tendencies have brought about a society that can accomplish things far beyond what such weak creatures could ever manage on their own. Their numbers are beyond measure. They craft machines that let those without wings fly, let those without horns manipulate forces well beyond their normal ability. They control the world around them. The plants, the animals, even the weather itself bends to their will. Do not be lulled into a sense of complacency due to the ease they accept you. They have faced all the challenges of this world, and have emerged as possibly the greatest nation in history, unified in purpose. These ponies may be quick to trust, but they are not blind or stupid, and they will utterly crush anything they see as a threat to their safety."

The first lesson was in the different breeds of ponies. At first impression, it made their task sound so easy. Such disparity in ability left glaring holes that a changeling could easily exploit. Unicorns could not fly. Pegasi lacked magic. Earth ponies lacked either, although they supposedly had some nebulous magic of their own--not that any of them considered an attachment to plants to be all that significant. It sounded as if it would allow them a great advantage until Ceymi pointed out that they would be restricted by the abilities of the form they took.

Skib ventured a question. "What about that fourth breed? Couldn't we take that form and still have both flight and magic?"

"Don't be a fool!" Ceymi shot back with a glare. "Do you remember nothing of what I taught you about a good disguise?"

Skib stuttered for a moment, and Cobalt cut in before he could answer. "Don't be conspicuous."

"Good," Ceymi said, nodding to him. "That breed is far too rare to ever blend in without drawing much more attention than you want. In fact, we've only ever confirmed the existence of a single pony possessing both wings and horns, and even the broadest of rumors suggest less than half a dozen others of that breed. Not only would I suggest never taking such a form yourself, I would suggest you be incredibly wary were you ever to encounter one."

The lessons continued, describing more of the three primary breeds, as well as covering matters of appearance. The most unusual aspect of that were the strange emblems the ponies acquired upon maturity. The idea of a “cutie mark” was a strange concept. Somehow, a graphic would appear on their flank when they found out what they were good at, and every pony was good at something.

"A pony's cutie mark is, therefore, something that they strongly identify with, and it carries great importance for them. They are used as identifiers almost as much as names are. Remember the importance I put on backgrounds for making a convincing disguise. The cutie mark may be alien to us, but it is something you will need to consider instinctively if you are to be convincing as a pony."

Such lessons were the only distractions of significance during the journey, which was largely uneventful despite the strangeness of the world they found themselves in. Every place turned up new scents, strange plants, unusual terrain, a million different things he had never seen before. A cloudless night revealed a vast expanse of stars, with the glowing moon dominating the dark sky, while by day the sun covered the land in a nearly oppressive light, worming its way into the deep cleft they hid in, to disrupt their sleep. The sheer openness of the world was boggling after a life where every inch of space existed for a purpose.

That openness was challenged on the second night, as they entered the forest. Nictis had never seen anything like it. After the dead expanse of the wastelands, the forest was like an alien world. Huge plants, trees, grew everywhere, their canopy blotting out the sky as they flew on beneath the huge branches above. Bushes, shrubs, ferns, and many other plants grew beneath these behemoths, cutting visibility so sharply, even in flight, that the nymphs at the end of their procession could not even see Ceymi at its head. The ground was practically hidden by plants, and in the clearings between trees, grass grew tall. Not the scraggly brown grass that clung to life among the rocks of the badlands, but lush, green grass.

Every now and then, they passed a stream. Water, flowing openly on the surface. It was so strange to see. The only water he had seen, other than that which seeped into the lower sections of the hive from deep underground, was a murky pool Ceymi had led them to in a deep crevice, and that had been foul, tasting bitterly of sulfur. The water here was clear and fresh, even better than that in the hive.

Despite the amazing world he found himself in, the little journey soon became rather boring, just flying along steadily for hours at a time. The second night had teased at excitement shortly after they entered the forest, when they had woken a hydra. The terrifyingly huge beast had reared up out of the murky bog it was resting in, but they had followed Ceymi up into the sky before the drowsy creature had fully reacted to their intrusion. The third night teased again when several flashes of green flame lit up the underbrush near the lead of their little swarm. Nictis hurried forward, disappointed to find the little conflict already resolved. The remains of two timberwolves smoldered with green flame, the two grim-faced soldiers silently keeping guard. They were facing off against the remains of the pack, who were still lurking, back in the bushes, eying the creatures that had just slain two of them. Ceymi led the nymphs away. They had blindly crossed the creatures in the gloom, and the soldiers had reacted swiftly to disperse the potentially dangerous creatures. No threat would be permitted against the valuable nymphs in their care.

The sky was starting to lighten in the east at the end of the third night when Ceymi slowed to a halt and landed in a small clearing. "We are here," she said, as the nymphs and pair of soldiers landed. "The edge of the Everfree Forest is only half a mile away. Ponies avoid the forest, knowing what deadly dangers lurk in these uncontrolled places. Ironically, their proximity keeps the worst of the monstrosities away as well. We should be safe here, between the two."

"In that direction lies the pony settlement of Colton." She pointed a hoof straight ahead, then swept it to the side. "And in that direction, several miles further, is Hoofington. These will be our practice grounds."

She turned back to them. "Before you rest, you have a task to complete. Approach Colton under the cover of the forest. The ponies are primarily diurnal creatures and will be waking soon. You are to observe a pony and disguise yourself as them, then return to me."

Abruptly she leaned forward, voice harsh. "Do not be seen! Stay under the cover of the forest if you can. If you must leave it, be sure you do so in disguise. If anyone should see you, even disguised, evade them and return to the forest." She bared her teeth as she continued. "I am putting trust in your discretion, little ones. Do not disappoint me."

There was a long silence as she looked slowly over each one of them, and every one of them stared back. Adrenaline was burning in Nictis's veins. He was going to act like an Infiltrator. It was a small part, but he was finally out here, about to put his skills to practice. He could prove himself! ...Or he could fail in the most horrible method imaginable.

Ceymi broke the silence with a single word. "Go." The nymphs immediately turned, bounding off in the direction of the pony settlement.

Nictis lost track of the last of his fellow students shortly before reaching the edge of the forest. He slowed as more and more light filtered through the branches ahead of him, eventually slowing to barely a crawl as he approached a bush. He could hear little behind him, only the sound of the soft breeze blowing through the leaves, but ahead he could make out the faint sounds of movement and voices carrying over the distance.

Reaching the bush, he peered out between its leaves. He could see very little through the narrow gaps, but it concealed his presence perfectly, with only the narrowest strip of his blue eyes visible in the sea of green. There was a field beyond the bush, and on the other side were a few structures of some sort. He moved his head slowly from side to side, sweeping the tiny cone of vision over the space beyond.

Seeing nothing of interest, he carefully crept forward, slipping in under the edge of the bush and crawling forward. A careful press with a foreleg moved a branch aside, opening up a narrow window to overlook the small town beyond.

He was on the outskirts of a field, with plants growing in unnaturally organized rows. In fact, it seemed to all be one particular kind of plant, the ground around them torn up, without even grass growing among them. Ceymi had described the odd practice during one of their daytime lectures, as well as a variety of other unusual pony habits. That must be a farm, then. The closest comparison Nictis could think of was the fungal growths encouraged in some of the spaces of the hive, which they then harvested, a needed physical supplement to the magical energies they fed on. It was hardly an important task, certainly not deserving of such a degree of coordination and effort. Physical food was easy. Even here they could simply eat some grass or leaves.

To his surprise, Ceymi had actually laughed when one of the others had asked if ponies couldn't do the same. They would only eat grass or leaves if it was eaten between two layers of other ground up grasses that had been properly heated and then cooled, she had informed them. Or if they were mixed with just the right proportions and preparations with a dozen or so other plants, all cut or crushed or ground to exactly the right size and consistency. Or maybe if the leaves were simply arranged very nicely on a plate, perhaps decorated with the proper inedible adornments. She then said that ponies liked to think of themselves as having a very refined palate, and disappointed further curiosity by saying that culinary habits were a lesson for a later date.

All of this left Nictis eying the ponies' plants, wondering if the strange fixation on physical food, and the extensive and almost ritualistic preparations involved, meant that these plants were particularly tasty or particularly disgusting.

A faint motion distracted him from those thoughts. A short stone wall ran alongside the path bordering the field, and now a small pony was creeping along it. A blue unicorn, and a young one. Foal, that was the term. Right now it was stealthily moving away from Nictis, toward a large structure of some sort. Sneaking toward the town.

Nictis frowned. That must be one of the other students, already grown impatient. Or maybe he just wanted to finish the given task as swiftly as possible, hoping to make a good impression on Ceymi by being faster than the others. Perhaps encouraging rivalry was a bad thing here, if it led some of them to being incautious. Hmm. Or perhaps Ceymi was testing them on their patience as well. Accomplishing two tasks for the effort of one seemed like something she would do. Something she, in fact, encouraged them to do when possible.

More movement caught his attention. Another pony was walking near the large structure, a brown earth pony hauling a strange, wheeled device. The foal at the wall quickly shrank back into a slight recess, using a curve of the wall and a small bush for cover. If Nictis hadn't been watching, he wouldn't have even known there was anything there, until a momentary glow of green emanated from behind the bush. A second later he heard the sound of a loud clattering come from the building. The pony hurried over toward the source of the sound, and after another flicker of green, an exact duplicate emerged from behind the bush, making a hasty but still somewhat stealthy retreat.

Nictis could imagine Ceymi's evaluation of what he had seen. "Good use of distraction to evade without contact, and a good choice to evade then rather than pushing your luck. Too bad it was your idiotic impatience that got you into the situation to begin with."

Okay, she would probably word it a bit more... better, but he imagined that's roughly how the critique would go.

He scanned over the scene again, then withdrew. He needed to get closer to the town if he was going to observe any pony closely enough to copy them accurately, and he had spied a perfect approach. A shallow gully ran near the town, almost completely obscured under thick brush. It would take only a few minutes to reposition, and he could close in on the town itself without being exposed at all.

Tracking back through the woods, he soon found the small stream where it entered the woods, the top of the gully reaching just over his head. It was perfect. He trotted quietly along the hidden, muddy path, able to move easily now, safely out of sight. As the sound of the town grew clearer, he slowed, occasionally peeking out between the lip of the gully and the brush above it. He was close, now, close enough to see just how strange pony settlements were.

The structures, he could see now, were very unusual. They were all blocky and sharp-cornered, with hardly any rounded parts at all. So many different materials appeared to go into their construction: wood, metal, plaster, glass. The variety of colors gave each element a sharp contrast. The combined effect gave the town a strange, inorganic look, and with so much wasted space. Then again, they had so much space to use, he supposed a degree of inefficiency made sense when they had no encouragement to do better. Ceymi had even said they don't even make regular use of underground spaces; the most they did was to dig out a small space right under their surface structures, and even that was used just for storing things.

He was nearing a small wooden bridge when the sound of nearby voices brought him to a halt.

"Wait up, Gale!"

Taking another peek out from his hidden path, he saw a trio of foals traveling along the path above. Female foals, he noted. Fillies, then, if he was remembering correctly. One had taken the lead, a dark-blue pegasus, its hooves clopping noisily on the bridge before it drew to a stop and called back to the others. It was close enough that he could catch its scent, taking a few moments to remember it.

"Oh come on, Dawn Star. I wasn't even going that fast." Nictis frowned. These ponies had such strange voices, so... plain and simple, he supposed. Certainly nothing compared to the more melodic and resonant tones of Ceymi or the Queen.

The others were approaching. One, an off-white unicorn, was levitating a strange bundle of fabric, sticks, and string. "Oh, what's the hurry anyway? I didn't think you were that excited to fly kites."

The pegasus rolled its eyes. "The hurry is, I'm only here for a couple days, and I want to make sure I get to have all the fun with you two as I can before I have to go home again." Then it stuck out its tongue. "And I don't need a kite, anyway, that's what I've got these for," it said proudly, flapping its wings a couple times.

"Sure," replied the third member of their party, a purple earth pony. "You probably don't even know how to fly one, do you?"

"Of course I do, Willow." The pegasus--that must be Gale, then--turned away, sticking its nose up. "I just watch you and copy what you're doing."

A few seconds later the three of them were giggling as they casually trotted off into the field.

Nictis watched them intently, his heart beating hard, the cold twinge of adrenaline flowing over him. It was the first time he'd seen a pony so close. Well, the first time he'd seen one that was up and moving, anyway. There were some ponies cocooned back at the hive, but that hardly counted. Seeing one suspended and motionless was far different from seeing them moving freely. It looked, frankly, unnatural. The way the hide moved and flexed was so different from the hard carapace of the changelings. The more he watched, the more unnatural it looked. A body just shouldn't move that way.

He cleared his head, focusing on the unicorn, Dawn Star. If he was going to take the form of a pony, he wanted to keep his magic. Wings would make for a quick escape, but magic might prevent such a need from arising. It was rather simple to take in all the details he needed, and a moment later a flicker of green flame flashed across his form.

It was not the first time he had shapeshifted, but it was the first time he shapeshifted into a pony. It felt weird. Wrong. He was all soft and squishy in places that really should not be soft and squishy. All his teeth were flat and blocky. His horn was straight, blunt, and stubby. His wings were gone. And fur, fur everywhere. Even as he backed into the cover of the gully he could already feel a few bits of leaves and dirt clinging to the fur.

Although "he" wasn't really accurate, was it? The foal he had observed was a female, and he had copied its form perfectly, so he supposed that made him a “her,” now. Ceymi had always stressed the importance that a disguise was much more than skin deep. Every detail had to be ingrained into an Infiltrator's thoughts until it became reflexive. To a proper changeling, details like name and gender were things to change as freely as the form they were attached to. He--no, she--would have to keep that in mind.

Quietly, the counterfeit Dawn Star crept along the gully, picking up the pace as she got further from the town. It took only a minute, and then she was back under the protective cover of the forest, safe from prying eyes. Success.

Stepping out of the gully, she shook her hooves, then frowned at the mud that clung stubbornly to the fur. Dumb fur. The mud would have shaken right off of a smooth carapace, even if some might have stuck in the holes of the leg, but here all the gesture managed was to spatter a bit across her chest. It even felt worse, matting the fur in awkward clumps. Disgusting creatures. She snorted derisively at the thought. Oh well. There were many inconveniences an Infiltrator must deal with, and for now she would simply have to ignore it.

She turned and cantered off into the forest.

A few minutes later, a glimpse of white brought her to a halt. She was sure that was the clearing ahead, just past those trees and brush, but what could she have seen? Carefully she crept forward, a few more momentary flashes of white showing through the gently swaying leaves. There was something there in the clearing that shouldn't be, something big and white, far too large to be a nymph in disguise. Ceymi wouldn't have allowed anything dangerous to be waiting for them, but caution seemed the best course for the moment.

She edged up to the bushes, moving as slowly and silently as she could. The gentle breeze did not reach under the canopy; no risk of her scent betraying her position. A few moments later, she slipped into a small depression, flanked by brush, a single eye peeking out past the leaves. What she saw sent a terrified chill through her.

The glimpses of white had been a pony, but one unlike anything she had been prepared for. Laying in the center of the clearing was a huge mare, easily the size of the Queen herself, bearing both a long and elegant horn and broad, feathered wings. Golden adornments decorated her radiant white form, while her prismatic mane and tail flowed slowly, looking as if they were not entirely of this world.

And there, under the monstrous pony's serene gaze, lay two changeling nymphs.

Chapter 2: Lessons and Losses

Chapter 2: Lessons and Losses

Nictis--no, Dawn Star!--was frozen in place. Her brain refused to process for a moment, heart pounding hard in her ears. She could sense only a vague calmness from the pony, mirroring that calm expression. It just sat there. Waiting.

One of the nymphs fidgeted a little, drawing a momentary glance from the great white pony, and immediately went still again. The two nymphs looked uninjured but were clearly radiating their unhappiness at the situation.

Dawn Star almost didn't notice the two unicorns behind the pony; also white, and adorned in golden armor, they stood every bit as still as the one laying in the clearing.

She didn't dare move; motion draws attention. The situation didn't make sense. Why was that pony here? Where was Ceymi? Or was that Ceymi, having taken a different form? It didn't matter. She would do best to wait here, perfectly still, and wait for a distraction to draw attention away. Then she could withdraw. Of course, that distraction would likely be the arrival of another nymph, but that hardly mattered.

Or at least, it wouldn't have, if not for the fact that all of them had left in the same direction, and therefore were arriving from the same direction. When her distraction arrived, in the form of a familiar pegasus filly, it was less than a dozen feet from where she was hidden.

The large white pony barely responded to the arrival, simply cocking its head to the side, looking on with a faint smirk.

There was a moment of silence before the pegasus murmured a quiet "Wow."

"Hmm?"

Nictis--Dawn Star nearly jumped when the large pony made a sound. The pegasus, meanwhile, just cleared its throat and trotted up. "Oh, just... that's an impressive form, but I thought you said we shouldn't have both wings and a horn?"

The white pony's smirk grew faintly, a hint of amusement rising from it. "I'm sorry. Have we spoken before?"

A sudden feeling of fear radiated from the pegasus as it froze in place. Its mouth moved silently for a moment.

"Lose the disguise, changeling." Past the serene expression, Dawn Star could see a certain coldness, one that lent the quiet words a deadly edge. The changeling fixed in its gaze must have sensed it as well, hesitating only a moment before reverting to his natural form.

The cold gaze remained fixed for a long moment before the pony sighed. "I'm disappointed in you, Shift. You should know better than this."

With a deep sigh of relief, Dawn Star rose up from her hiding spot--as did another pony just ten feet away; another student, surveying the scene before making their entrance.

Ceymi, or whoever Ceymi was disguised as, was addressing them almost before they had even left their hiding spots. "As for you two, well done. You need more practice concealing your emotions, but that hardly matters when dealing with ponies."

"Now then. Shift, join the others while we wait. As for you two," Ceymi nodded to Dawn Star and the other new pony, "You may retain your disguises and sit with me."

Dawn Star grinned happily, suddenly elated after the fear of the previous minutes. Both complimented and given a place of honor beside her teacher, it was enough to make any day perfect.

Half an hour later had seen the return of all the nymphs. Several had stumbled into view before realizing the trap. A couple of them had attempted to flee, only to be lifted from the ground and brought in by Ceymi's magic. The rest realized something was wrong and snuck up. Most managed this well enough, though one was obvious enough to be called out, and when he didn't respond, was dragged out from the bushes by magic. A few observed until the deception became obvious. Two, coming too late to observe this, remained hidden until Ceymi sighed, stood, and dropped her disguise. The two soldiers, posing appropriately enough as their pony counterparts, followed suit.

"I suppose I should count it as a success that you didn't manage to get yourselves either caught by the ponies or lost in the woods. Still, I am disappointed in some of you. An Infiltrator can never let their guard down, particularly when things seem to be going well. Overconfidence and complacency will doom you quicker than anything the ponies might do."

She stomped a hoof against the ground. "Resume your disguises."

Those who had been made to remove their disguised forms, fully half of the students, quickly shifted forms again.

Ceymi nodded. "Good. At least none of you forgot that." She raised a hoof, pointing it at a brown earth pony stallion. "Who are you, Skib?"

So that's who that was, Dawn Star thought, while the disguised Skib blinked, caught by surprise. "I'm... an earth pony... farmer."

Ceymi let out a quiet groan, more than enough to show her displeasure, before moving her hoof to her next student. Most managed little better. It wasn't long before the hoof reached Dawn Star.

"Nictis?"

She grinned, having looked forward to this from the moment Skib had failed at his own answer. "Oh, I'm Dawn Star," she said, in her best imitation of the real Dawn Star's voice. "I live down in Colton, with my friend Willow. Oh, and my friend Gale is visiting from out of town. She's only here for a few days, so we're trying to make the most of the time we have." She turned to regard the dark-blue pegasus form of the disguised Shift. "Although I thought she was off flying kites near town, so I'm not sure how she got here, too."

Fake-Gale's ear's drooped in embarrassment, having known less about her own form than Nictis-turned-Dawn-Star did. Ceymi, however, was quite pleased.

"Good," she said. "A disguise is more than just a shape and some colors."

Her hoof quickly swung to the next student, while Dawn Star suppressed the urge to squee happily at the compliment. Only Rock and Cobalt had caught any details of their targets other than their names, and even that was limited to only a single family member.

"Now then, my turn." Ceymi flashed, again taking the form of that great white pony. Her voice abruptly changed, reverting to the same smooth, soft tones of her copied form. "This is a pony you should be well aware of in order to blend in, but should hopefully never meet. This is Celestia, Princess of Equestria. She is quite possibly the most powerful individual being in existence. Do you know how great her power is?"

None of them answered, quite certain the question was rhetorical.

The fake Celestia rose a hoof, gesturing up. "She does that."

They squinted up against the glare of the sun, uncertain of what she was pointing to.

"The ponies under her control the plants, and the animals, and the weather. Celestia's power outstrips all of them. Her might is so grand that she controls the sun itself. The moon. The stars. Day and night, the seasons, all of it bend to her will." Her hoof lowered back to the ground as she fixed them with a look, the glare surprisingly effective coming from that alien form. "Hope that you never see her, little ones. If she sees you, then you are already dead."

Dawn Star blinked groggily, trying to clear her obnoxiously large eyes against the afternoon sun. She, and the other students, had gotten only a short nap, made rather less restful by the combination of the brilliant light of the day and the uncomfortable form these ponies possessed. The squishy hide and thin fur turned every little root or rock into an annoyance.

With ponies being diurnal, Ceymi had wanted them to switch over to a daytime schedule, and she was not going to waste any time with it. They would be starting lessons immediately, although she had something special planned for the moment.

"As of now, I will begin giving individual lessons to students who have progressed far enough in their studies to be allowed direct contact with ponies. Group lessons will continue for part of the day, and for the rest you will practice with Dusk and Shade while I am gone." She gestured to the soldiers. "They may not be Infiltrators, but they specialize in stealth and deception, and will be quite able to see if you've retained anything I've taught you."

She glanced up at the sky. "It's already getting late in the day, so we will start now. 'Dawn Star,' you are with me. Dusk, you are in charge here."

Ceymi turned and walked off, with Dawn Star scrambling to follow, all thoughts of fatigue banished from her mind. She had been picked for the first individual lesson! She would be infiltrating a pony settlement at Ceymi's side! It was difficult to keep her enthusiasm in check, and she knew she couldn't possibly hide the emotions pouring off her, but she tried her best to follow along in obedient silence.

They had walked for about a minute before Ceymi broke the silence. "I am pleased with your performance." Dawn Star couldn't help but smile at the compliment. "I had hoped that one of my better students would do well at the previous task, in order to present the private lessons as a reward and encouragement, and you did not disappoint."

"Thank you," she said. She couldn't help but ask, "I'm one of the better students?"

She saw the corner of Ceymi's mouth quirk upward. "Indeed. You show a lot of promise, so long as you can avoid letting your pride go to your head and spoil your focus. It's still too early to decide if you will be an Infiltrator, but if you continue to please me with your performance, you stand a good chance. Cobalt does, too." Ceymi's expression fell a little, taking on a faint grimace. "Maybe Shift, if he would learn to take things a little more seriously. My hopes for the others are considerably less, though I will give them the opportunity." She paused for a moment, the conversation replaced by the soft sound of hooves on dirt. "...Just don't think that things will be any easier, simply because you are doing well. Your challenges will only grow greater from here on, and I will not permit any weakness."

"I look forward to it!" Dawn Star replied, sincerely. Finally, the chance to prove herself, even if the faint edge of nervousness was creeping into her again. Going among the ponies meant being another step closer to the prized role of an Infiltrator, but it also meant being surrounded by hundreds of foes, where a momentary lapse of judgment could ruin everything.

Ceymi finally drew to a stop a couple minutes later, the edge of the forest only a short distance away. "The very first thing we will need to address is the matter of the disguise, the persona you take when among our prey. There are two ways of accomplishing a thorough disguise: you can steal an existing pony's life, or you can create one yourself. Both have their own advantages and disadvantages."

With a flash of green flame, Ceymi changed into an earth pony mare. She was light gray, with a mane and tail of blue, both short and tidy, and her flank was adorned with the image of a strange device he didn't recognize, something circular with various marks inside it. She smiled, looking down at him with her now-blue eyes. "This is an example of the former. Her name was Starry Eyes, and she was probably the most fortuitous find I've ever had. I came across her corpse in the Everfree Forest, only a day or two after her and her little expedition had died, and before the wildlife could completely destroy everything of value. By fortune, she kept a meticulous journal of her life, an entire ripe background, ready for the taking."

"I found out about her parents, Misty Dawn and Gray Oak, living in Hoofington. I learned of her fascination with the unknown, how she became a wanderer and explorer, and how she had finally arranged for her first expedition, into the rarely-explored Everfree. I learned of her likes and dislikes, her past, everything an Infiltrator needs to craft a perfect duplicate." She lifted a hoof, looking it over. "She's become something of a favorite of mine. A loving family, yet one that's quite accepting of their daughter's wanderlust. It's a perfect role, one where she can be absent for months or years at a time, yet is always welcomed home with such delicious love."

She set the hoof down again. "Taking the role of an existing pony requires a large amount of research, perfect attention to detail, and the ability to manipulate conversations to cover up any gaps in your knowledge. There is a constant danger of stumbling into some detail you could not have known, but if mastered, you will have a role already surrounded by loving friends and family, all ripe and ready for you to feed on."

"But of course, you not only have to make sure that the original will not resurface and spoil your deception, you also have to stay strictly in-character. It is inflexible. Any slip-up can threaten your deception, and any alteration, even one made slowly over time, can raise suspicion or doubt. For those reasons, a fabricated disguise is usually preferred."

She shifted again, taking on the form of a midnight-blue unicorn, with a cutie mark of a ruler, and vibrant green eyes. With the exception of the pony-like round pupils, they looked very much like her natural eyes. "A newly fabricated disguise lacks any existing ties, requiring you to build relationships yourself, but it also lacks any hidden surprises that might catch you unaware. While it takes more work to establish sources of food, it also gives you complete freedom in deciding your behavior, history, and more. It's generally safer. While you will need a good history, it is much easier to create one that has few details and can not be casually contradicted. Simply saying you come from a major city makes your background obscure enough to avoid any suspicion, so long as you are at least vaguely aware of the place."

"For your first few fictional disguises, you'll want to spend a great deal of effort planning out your history. Family names, relationships, past events, everything that might come up in casual conversation. When you have had enough experience, it becomes easy to use elements you've created before to assemble an all-new persona."

She gestured to herself. "For example, this will be Midnight Sky. A slight variation on Starry's interests in exploration and discovery becomes an interest in history and archeology. I can borrow the vague family history from a previous disguise to have come from Manehattan, with my parents Cloudy Sky and Bright Sun, who I very much do not want to talk about." She smirked a little, drawing a chuckle from Dawn Star. An uncomfortable reluctance to discuss an aspect of one's past is a great way to veil elements that might show flaws if examined too closely while suggesting a significantly more thorough background than might actually exist. "And I'm too focused on my work to have much in the way of friends, just a few casual acquaintances, vaguely described. More detailed information can be improvised from the dozens of ponies I've met or fabricated, even some of my own previous personas."

There was just one thing that bothered Dawn Star. "Why so much emphasis on this 'family' thing?"

Ceymi frowned. For a moment Dawn Star was alarmed that her question had disappointed her teacher, but the faint emotions she could sense hadn't changed, Ceymi's gaze fixed on the bushes ahead. She wasn't upset, just thinking. It was several seconds before she spoke. "You do remember when I stated that the other species have ways of looking at things that might seem completely alien to us, yes?"

Dawn Star nodded, and Ceymi continued. "Family is one of those things. Unlike our hive, ponies are not all closely related. One pony might be dozens of steps removed from another. The charts mapping those relations are complex enough that some ponies have made a profession of the subject. As a result of that, they have made a sharp distinction between those who are closely related and those who are not. An individual family is usually only those ponies directly related, or with only one step between them."

"Huh," Dawn Star said, boggling at the idea. "That's weird. That sounds like it would make our entire hive one family. I guess that would make each pony family like its own tiny hive, and then they have dozens of hives all together?"

"More like thousands," Ceymi said. "But that's a good way of picturing it. In any case, it's a strange way of thinking. We don't need any concept of family. Who one is born to doesn't matter, and there isn't anything to be gained from dividing our population along such lines. We all work together for the hive. Ponies insist on segregating their society into so many tiny factions, building ties and relationships based off the uncontrollable circumstances of who one is born to, and yet are still able to function together despite that."

"Weird," was all Dawn Star could manage to say. It was such a strange concept. "So, to a pony, we'd have a special 'connection' just because you laid my egg?"

"Indeed," Ceymi said, with a hint of amusement.

"I... well, I... I like you. I look up to you. But that's because of who you are and what you do. You're important to the hive and, er, to me. Laying my egg seems like such a meaningless reason next to that."

Ceymi grinned now, pleased at the flattery. "Oh, I agree. Those are much more substantial reasons to build a bond between individuals. To a pony, however, both would be just as valid."

"Weird," Dawn Star said again.

"Oh, it gets weirder," Ceymi said, with a faint chuckle. "Just wait until we get into types of relationships. They break that down into all manner of categories, and there are many that are only appropriate if one is sufficiently unrelated."

Dawn Star shook her head, making an effort to clear her thoughts. Ponies were weird... "Wait. If ponies draw these strange connections between relatives, I could just say that I'm your daughter, and that gives all the reason we'd need for why we're together?"

Ceymi nodded. "Very good. On that note, we need to establish a disguise for you."

Looking down at herself, Dawn Star nodded. "I suppose it wouldn't be very smart to wander into town wearing the form of a pony living there." A moment of concentration and a flicker of green had changed her color to brown and slightly altered her proportions, a bit leaner in the legs and belly. Ponies seemed a little too plump, in her opinion, and this felt more natural. "Better?"

Ceymi nodded. "Yes, but you've overlooked one detail. Unicorn magic usually matches the color of their eyes, or occasionally their cutie mark. It's a small detail that even most ponies overlook, but you should not give any reason for doubt that you can easily avoid."

"Right," the not-quite-Dawn-Star replied. She had the form of a foal, lacking a cutie mark--not that she minded, it seemed a thoroughly ridiculous thing--so it would have to be eye color. What color were her eyes, again? Blue? It was embarrassing to think that she had not paid attention to that detail, but it hardly mattered; another flicker of flame washed over her, replacing them with bright green.

"Good," Ceymi said. "That covers the physical aspects of the disguise..."

The younger changeling nodded, then raised a hoof to her chin, thinking. A name was the most important part. Other aspects could be evaded or described vaguely, but a name was something another pony would expect. Think, think...

Ponies seemed to all have names made of two words, and usually such silly ones at that. Stuff like flowers and bunnies and other soft, cutesy stuff like that. She didn't know enough about flowers to do much with that--seriously, who cares that much about flowers?--but maybe something nature-related might work. Plant... forest... field... meadow. Meadow! Meadow seemed like a good pony name. Or, that is, part of one. Meadow what? She considered a moment more. Song? That could work. "I could be Meadow Song, Midnight Sky's daughter, out traveling around, learning from her and seeing the world?"

"Perfect, little Meadow," came the counterfeit pony's reply. Midnight Sky reached a hoof up, lightly rustling the newly dubbed Meadow Song's mane. "The best lies are the ones that are true."

Half an hour later, a pair of ponies walked into the quiet town of Colton. The elder walked along with a calm grace, a hint of amusement about her, while her daughter followed close at her side, eyes wide and wandering.

The town was a lot to take in. Even as they were still approaching, Meadow Song could see dozens of ponies out working the fields or traveling about. The few they passed nearby offered a nod or call of greeting, which Midnight Sky always replied to in kind, her voice cheerful and friendly. Most seemed fairly uninterested beyond the friendly greeting; Meadow Song expected at any moment to have to give an entire life story to a suspicious pony, but none even asked their names. Perhaps they had important things to do and had no time to question suspicious new ponies.

Not that she was terribly clear on what they were doing. A few were moving among the fields of plants doing... whatever ponies do with plants when they weren't just pulling them out of the ground to eat, she supposed. A few more were traveling along the dirt roads, hauling carts or carrying those packs they called saddlebags. As they entered the town itself, they saw more ponies, some wandering about, others chatting or relaxing in groups. An open space just inside the town had many ponies, each standing behind a small structure with a variety of items displayed on and around them, usually plants of some sort. Other ponies would wander around, visiting and trading small pieces of metal for the items the other ponies had. There was a surprising lack of wings or horns; almost every pony was an earth pony, with only a few exceptions.

All around, the unnatural forms of the settlement's structures loomed above them, sharp colors and angular edges contrasting against each other.

It only now occurred to Meadow that she had no idea what they were doing here. She glanced up to Midnight but didn't dare ask now, not with so many ponies around to overhear. If Midnight noticed--and she surely had--she didn't say a word.

Meadow sighed slightly. She couldn't help it. It was just so weird seeing the Princess as a pony.

"So, what do you think?"

Meadow's head snapped back up to see Midnight smirking down at her. Meadow's ears folded back in embarrassment and confusion, until Midnight shrugged her head to the side, gesturing to the open square and the many ponies. "...about the town?"

Oh! Meadow's mind immediately drew several comments that she could make, none of which seemed likely to go over well if overheard by a pony. "It's... nice," she finally managed.

The smirk grew, Midnight no doubt recognizing the momentary internal struggle. "You seem a little lost," she said, almost teasingly. This drew a timid nod. "Well, that is why we're here. We do need to get you out more often." There was a light humor to her tone that didn't carry through into the emotions Meadow could sense. It was so strange, hearing such a soft and humorous tone coming from her.

Soon Midnight began gesturing to buildings. "That is a bakery, where the bakers work to turn grains into bread--"

Meaningless words turn meaningless things into a different meaningless thing.

"--and there are some homes, of course, each one housing a family. That looks like a blacksmith, where iron is turned into useful tools, particularly handy for anypony without magic. And a bookseller. I imagine you can guess what they sell."

Meadow was trying, poorly, to hide the growing feeling of terror. It was irrational. She knew that the Princess wouldn't casually say something that would blow their cover, surely she must be experienced enough to know better. That still didn't mitigate the fact that she was openly describing things that it seemed any pony should know. Wouldn't ponies get suspicious?

Midnight was leaning in now, head moving in close over Meadow's, and... and kissed her, right atop the head. Meadow's mind stopped for a moment. Her ears flattened, a strange warm sensation rising in her cheeks. There was a soft chuckle from Midnight, followed by a quiet whisper into the youngster's ear. "I do like foals. All these ponies will see is a loving mother, teaching her daughter about the world."

Blinking, Meadow glanced around. Sure enough, most of the ponies seemed to make no note of their conversation. There was only one exception, who quickly looked away, a sensation of charmed amusement rising from her. Meadow looked away as well, the warm sensation in her cheeks rising. A quick glimpse in the nearby shop window made the sensation clear; her cheeks had flushed red. Urgh, dumb ponies! I hate this dumb, fleshy body. Why would a body display embarrassment so plainly for every other pony to see? How does that help?

"Aww, you're blushing," Midnight said lovingly, while the sensation coming from her was far too amused for Meadow's tastes.

Mentally, Meadow grumbled. I want my carapace back. Chitin doesn't blush. Urgh. Endure. Surely this can't be the worst hardship an Infiltrator must deal with.

Giving Meadow a quick pat on the head, Midnight Sky continued on, describing more of the town. "That there is a seamstress shop. They make the fancy dresses and other clothes for the pretty fillies and mares to wear on the rare occasion going naked just wouldn't be appropriate." Meadow mentally grumbled even more at that. Clothing was such a weird concept. Why would anyone want to wear strangely-colored pieces of cloth? Ponies are so weird. "Oh, and a candy shop. If you're really good today, we can stop by there on the way back and get you a treat."

Meadow had no idea what candy was, but the idea of being deemed "really good" was pleasant enough, reward or not.

She only became aware of the momentary silence when she noticed the amusement from Midnight. She looked up to see her teacher gazing off with a smile. Following her gaze, Meadow turned to see a group of foals, including a few familiar ones, running around and kicking a ball. Quickly looking back, she found Midnight looking straight at her with a broad grin. "You know, I think it's about time you tried making some friends."

Meadow's eyes went wide, anxiety rising. Friends? With ponies? She stammered a few meaningless syllables, her mind racing for some worthy objection. But that's too soon! She knew hardly anything about ponies, much less how to interact with them!

"You're such a shy child," Midnight said softly. "Don't worry, I'm sure they're nice. Just be friendly and you'll do fine."

It was so strange to hear the disguised Ceymi speaking in such gentle and encouraging tones. Disconcerting, even. Only the firm, almost grim emotion coming from her, concealed under that cheerful and charming persona, gave any semblance of normality. Meadow could practically hear the words her teacher would otherwise use, had there not been ponies listening in: don't do anything stupid.

"I'll be right over there at the cafe," Midnight Sky said with a gesture, then nudged her gently. "Go on, have fun." Stop wasting time.

Reluctantly, Meadow nodded and began to walk toward the playing foals.

This is it, she thought. My first real test as an Infiltrator. My first task among ponies, without the Princess guiding things or... or being there to save me if things go wrong. She shook her head, taking another deep breath. No, I don't need to think that. She won't need to save me. I can do this. I can... how do I even approach them?

She came to a halt, right at the edge of the small clearing the foals were running around in. What are these strange little ponies doing, anyway? As far as she could tell, they were just kicking a ball around the field. They seemed to be making a game of it. Sure, she knew the concept of a game, but this made no sense. For changelings, games would consist of some contest of practical skills, such as accurate throwing, or tests of strength, or sparring. Something that could be done to keep skills honed, as well as entertain. She couldn't make out any useful purpose at all for kicking around a ball. It made even less sense when one kicked the ball off an edge of the field between a pair of trash cans; suddenly half the foals cheered, and the other half groaned. Obviously, some of them had succeeded at some sort of objective, but she couldn't imagine what had actually been accomplished.

As they retrieved the ball, one of the familiar foals noticed her standing beside the field. It was that blue pegasus filly from earlier, Gale. It--that is, she, Meadow supposed--beamed at the new face, waving toward Meadow. "Hey, you want to join in?"

"Err..." She didn't have a clue what they were doing. Part of her mind suggested panic, but she pushed it down. Better to try the truth for the moment. "I don't know how to play."

Oh great, now it... she is coming over here. It must be strange to not know a foal's game! Panic was beginning to seem like a more and more appropriate answer, but Gale was smiling when she landed. "Not much to know. Just kick the ball and try to get it into the other team's goal." She gestured to one of the pairs of cans, set on opposite ends of the playing area. "That's pretty much all there is to it!"

"Oh," Meadow replied, lamely. "Well, I guess that's simple enough."

"Yep," Gale replied. "You can join the other team, they could use another player."

Oh, joy, not only am I recruited into a pointless activity, I get put on the losing team. I suppose it'd be rude to decline. "Okay."

"Oh! And we're playing earth-pony rules. No wings or magic."

Well that's just not fair, Meadow thought, but she nodded. That's a stupid rule. Just because they're less capable doesn't mean the rest of us should be crippled, too. It's bad enough that I don't have my wings, but now I can't use my magic?

She caught herself frowning, quickly wiping the expression away to give a weak smile. Better play along, anyway. Complaining would just draw attention.

The ponies on her team greeted her, and she did her best to respond in kind, though she realized even as she did so that it was coming out awkwardly. Fortunately, they didn't seem to mind, and in moments the game was started.

For the first few moments, Meadow hung back, appraising the situation, watching the other foals maneuver. The movements were slow and somewhat awkward, their kicks imprecise. Even without practice, she was certain she could do better. These foals were soft. Even a worker nymph would be able to outperform them, much less a prospective Infiltrator!

Eventually, a few ponies broke out of the confused melee, chasing after the ball. That purple earth pony, Willow, got to it first and began to kick it up the field. Meadow grinned as she moved in to intercept. Now she'd show them how to really play.

She dashed in toward the other filly, eyes fixed on the ball. A quick sweep of her hooves would block the ball and sweep it away, leaving her a clear run up to the opposing goal. If she were lucky, it would even trip up her opponent. That plan died the moment Meadow's hoof struck the ball.

Meadow met Willow's kick with a grin of satisfaction, which immediately turned to one of surprise as the other filly's leg swept right through her own. The whole world lurched sideways as Meadow's legs tangled, sending her face-first into the grass. She lay there a moment, trying to process what had just happened. A curious sensation of sympathy tickled at her senses.

Rolling onto her back, she saw Willow had stopped, looking down with a concerned expression, and offering a hoof. "Are you okay?"

Meadow stared for a moment, not quite comprehending what had just happened. Willow was no bigger than any of the nymphs, and they were always tripping each other up. She should have managed that just fine. On top of that, they wouldn't have stopped and offered help, particularly for someone who was legitimately their opponent. What is with these ponies?

A moment later, she snapped back to reality. She still had a role to play, and Willow must expect an answer. "Er... yeah, I'm fine," Meadow managed to say, awkwardly, and accepted the hoof up. Willow just smiled, then turned back to the game, the feeling of sympathy already fading into a more general sense of happiness. Meadow mentally cursed herself at the missed opportunity for a snack, as tiny as it would have been.

The game was underway again, leaving Meadow reconsidering her course. A competition of physical might seemed, surprisingly, to be a losing prospect. Either these ponies were stronger than they looked under that stupid soft hide, or the form she had taken was particularly weak. Still, she was a changeling, regardless of what form she had; they had much greater strengths than physical might.

Soon she was circling around the cluster of foals circling the ball, eyes sharp for her opportunity. It came soon, as the ball popped free, a couple colts chasing after it, but she was ready. Darting in, she swept the ball out of the nearest colt's path, but this time made sure to avoid his legs. The ball bounced ahead, forcing the pursuing colts to change direction to catch up with her.

Fools. The foals had all been clustering around the ball, surrounding it while trying to get useless kicks in. Now that it was free, the tangle slowed them down. Only one pony stood between her and the goal, and probably the biggest filly there. Good. Big usually meant slow.

Meadow charged straight at her, then suddenly changed course. The other filly tried to follow the move but was a moment behind her. It was just enough room; Meadow kicked the ball to the side, hooking it around the side of the other filly just before their shoulders collided. Again Meadow found herself on the ground, but this time it was with the cheers of her team. She grinned happily as the goalkeeper helped her up, drawing in the feelings of appreciation that now filled the air. It was a small snack, and the unattached appreciation wasn't the tastiest of emotions, but it was still so much better than drawing from the feeding pools. It was cleaner, purer, the individual sensations each distinct, not muddled into a vague cacophony of energy. She could only imagine what a stronger emotion would taste like.

It faded quickly, only an ephemeral impression, soon lost in the excitement of the game. Again Meadow circled, looking for her opportunity to strike, a hunter eying the ball that could tease out those tasty emotions. Her prey, however, was adapting. They had wised up to her play, and the next attempt found the goalkeeper much more aware, spoiling her shot. The other foals began spreading out a bit more, reducing her opportunities to strike, and leaving them more ready to impede her when she did. On top of that, the fatigue was catching up with her far quicker than she had expected. Even with the glut of energy already stored within her, and the refreshing sip from her goal, her body was tiring quickly. With frustration, she noted that she was now being outperformed by several of the foals around her. By ponies.

She was genuinely relieved when the game was over. Pony legs felt soft enough already, but now hers felt like they had more in common with jelly than a proper limb. Despite the competition, everypony seemed quite happy now, with many compliments being passed to those who were moments ago their opponent. She got several compliments, though between the fatigue and nervousness, she gave only weak responses.

A hoof suddenly thumped down on her shoulder. Her head snapped around, and it was only with the greatest control that she managed to keep the feelings of disgust and indignation from touching her expression. One of the flabby-skinned, fur-covered cretins was touching her.

It was Gale, smiling happily. "See, I knew you'd do well," she said, patting Meadow's shoulder again.

A happy sensation of appreciation and faint affection were just enough to keep Meadow from pulling away. Drawing it in made her feel just that little bit more stable. "Oh. Thanks," she replied, trying not to sound too sharp. You did this. You're the reason I'm tired and my legs feel like sludge.

"No problem," Gale said, letting her hoof return to the ground. Somewhat more seriously, she asked, "You were pretty good. You really haven't played before?"

"No." And I hope I never have to do something so useless again. At Gale's curious reaction, she suspected her reply was a bit too short. "I... I don't get out much."

"I kinda guessed that," Gale said, grinning a bit. "You seem kinda shy."

"I'm not shy!" Meadow said quickly. Shyness meant poor social skills. Poor social skills meant less popular. Less popular meant a very unhappy changeling. Unfortunately, the swift denial had come without any better idea of how to explain her behavior. "I... I'm just..."

"Uh-huh," Gale replied, grin growing a bit more. "Not even a little. Hey, we've got to go. See you later?"

"Uh..." She glanced back to the cafe, catching a glimpse of Midnight Sky. "I don't think so. My mother and I are leaving soon, I think."

A faint waft of sympathy arose from Gale. "Oh. Yeah, I know the feeling." Her voice had a faintly sad tone to it, Meadow noted, which was curious when combined with the sympathy. That was one she would like to provoke more of. Sympathy was rather tasty, and somewhat energizing, but it was such a brief taste. "Maybe I'll see you around," Gale said with a shrug, before trotting off with her friends.

Finally, Meadow turned to the cafe. Midnight was lounging at a small table, looking very amused, a couple glass cylinders resting in front of her. Cups, she recognized after a moment, though she had no idea what the bright red substance inside them was. "So," Midnight asked, voice almost mischievous, "How did it go?"

"So tired," Meadow grumbled, flopping down onto a seat. A moment later she looked alarmed, worried that she might have done something inappropriate by pony standards, but no, not a single pony had made note of it. Ponies were just that relaxed, it seemed. "It went pretty good, I guess. They seemed to like me."

Midnight beamed, though the emotion coming from her seemed a more simple satisfaction. "I had a feeling you'd do well." With that, she pushed one of the cups over. "Here. This should make you feel better."

Meadow looked at the glass for several seconds, trying to figure out what it was. A sniff revealed that it was sweet, like a strong flower, but quite different. Seeing Midnight taking a sip from her own glass, it was clear it must not be something bad. Lifting the cup in her magic, she brought it to her lips and took a sip.

Her eyes went wide. It was delicious, beyond anything she had ever imagined. The sweet was almost overpowering, the taste richer than anything she had ever tasted before. Normally, physical food and drink were just something she had, nothing special. Some fungus, maybe the occasional grass or leaves, all washed down with water. This was something completely different.

"...Wow," was all she managed to stammer out before greedily taking several more gulps. "Ohhh... This is great!" Then she realized how loudly she had blurted that out, ears drooping, her stupid, fleshy cheeks again flushing with embarrassment... and yet, not a single pony took notice. Sure, a few glanced over, a few even chuckled faintly, but moments later she was forgotten. It's like I'm almost invisible!

Recovering from her momentary embarrassment, she asked, "What is this?"

"It's a raspberry smoothie," Midnight replied. "I thought you might want something nice to drink."

"Thank you!" Meadow replied earnestly, taking another long sip, savoring the taste.

The rest of their stay was surprisingly calming. The ponies didn't seem to be a very suspicious people at all. Friendly and curious, sure, but not suspicious. Meadow was quite happy to take the rest of the visit easy. She still felt worn out from the game.

"You just had to be skinny," Midnight had quietly murmured to her. "It's not surprising that you'd be weak in such a form. Remember, we can shapeshift more than just the surface. Someday I'll have to teach you about muscle tone."

Of course, there was plenty more strangeness to be seen from the ponies, something Meadow was suspecting would be true for a long time. The strangest that day was seeing pegasi pushing clouds around through the sky, adjusting the weather to be just right. Meadow was just starting to get bored when a distant rumble sounded, as if from a thunderstorm, and a rainbow rippled across the sky. Suddenly the pegasi were up again, frantically catching wayward clouds and corralling them into place, while Meadow just stared, hardly believing what she had seen. These ponies are ridiculous.

Dusk saw the two counterfeit ponies walking down the road out of town, the younger eagerly popping another lemon drop into her mouth with a happy hum. Another delicious treat, so sharp and tart, yet so tasty. "Mmm. Can we get some more of these next time, too?"

Midnight looked flatly at her. "I do hope that your eagerness for this task is not now driven by the expectation of reward, little one."

Meadow's head jerked back, surprised. Without any ponies around, the cheery persona of Midnight Sky had been dropped for Ceymi's more forward and critical mannerisms. "Of course not! I want to help the hive!" she said, quite honestly, but she did have to admit, "It is a nice bonus, though."

This seemed to satisfy the elder. "Indeed, it can be. The life of an Infiltrator can be incredibly hard at times. I would not begrudge one an opportunity to enjoy what comforts they can find... so long as it does not impair their work."

They drew to a halt atop a small rise. Midnight was looking back, and Meadow followed her gaze. Colton lay behind them, points of light illuminating it in the growing darkness.

"I envy them sometimes," Midnight said. She sounded--and felt--faintly sad, and Meadow looked up to her in surprise. This was unlike anything she had ever seen from Ceymi.

Midnight shook her head slightly, apparently sensing that surprise. "Oh, I don't envy how soft they are, or how weak they are. I don't envy their pathetic naivety. While our lives are hard, a constant struggle against starvation, they relax with their luxuries, leading easy lives. They have so much more than us." She paused for a long moment, eyes wandering over the lights of the town. "...So yes, I envy them." Her expression hardened, a feeling of disgust welling up. "...and I despise them."

She turned away suddenly, resuming the walk. "The time I've spent as Starry Eyes has been some of the best times of my life. I loved every moment I spent with Misty Dawn and Gray Oak. Their love is so pure and delicious, and so, so abundant. They are always so generous to Starry, treating her so wonderfully--and not that stiff and impersonal kind of courtesy the ‘upper crust’ deals in, but the true, personal kind. It's left me looking forward to every moment I can spend there."

Casting a harsh glance to Meadow, she continued. "That is our test, child. Life among them can be a wonderful luxury, one that takes every opportunity to tempt us. It would seem so easy to forget, to slide into complacency, to fall into their way of life, but as tempting as it may be you must resist. In the end, it is our lives that make us what we are. Their easy lives make them soft and gullible, easy to prey upon. Our harder lives make us strong, keep us sharp. It is what leaves us able to survive in a world arrayed against us. If a hard life is what it takes for us to be strong, then so be it. To do otherwise is to leave yourself as weak and vulnerable as they are. For an Infiltrator, that means death.

"Never forget what you are, Nictis. Never forget what they are."

Meadow just nodded, silent as they continued on.

Silence reigned for a few minutes as they turned to enter the woods, to be broken by a distant rumble.

Both ponies' heads snapped up, catching the last flickering glow of green through the treetops.

Alarm shot through Midnight's emotions for a single instant, then winked out, her emotions hidden. Her voice came sharply. "Revert. Now!"

A flash dispelled the disguise, insectoid wings spreading as Ceymi took off. A moment later, with another flicker of magic, Nictis flew after her.

He beat his wings as hard as he could, struggling to keep up with the more experienced flier as she darted through the trees ahead of him. In moments she was nothing more than a black blur, barely seen between the trees.

Finally, they reached the clearing. Ceymi was just drawing to a halt above a bulky form, far greater than any changeling, smoldering with green flames. The faint light cast its glow over two smaller forms, gleaming off their wet carapace. It was two of the other nymphs... or what was left of them.

A movement across the clearing drew the two changeling's attention. Rising from another fallen, broken form, a manticore turned to face them, something thick dripping from its jaws. Nictis didn't get to see any more. With a furious cry, Ceymi's horn lit up with tremendous energy, more energy than he had ever seen loosed in a single spell. That energy tore out from her, lighting the scene for a blinding instant, like a massive green blast of lightning. He could see only a vague outline of the manticore as the spell struck, the silhouette disintegrating, like a puff of wind dispersing dust.

Nictis blinked, still hovering near the edge of the clearing, trying to clear his vision. It was just starting to return to him when a movement above drew his attention; another manticore was diving into the clearing.

"Ceymi, above!" He loosed a blast of green flame from his horn as he shouted. It took a fair portion of his energy, anemic as it was compared to the Princess's magic, but he would do what he could.

The manticore wavered slightly, avoiding the bolt, and dove at Ceymi, but she was too fast. She twisted to the side, its heavy paw slashing the ground where she had stood an instant before.

Nictis wanted to help, his horn aglow with magic, but there was little opportunity. He was poor with magical blasts, having spent what little magical training he had on more subtle pursuits, and a miss could easily hit Ceymi. Instead, he could only watch.

Ceymi was quite obviously no newcomer to a fight. The manticore kept at her, any of its blows easily strong enough to break the lithe Princess, but she slipped around each one, dancing away from the attacks. On the other hoof, its attacks kept her on the defensive, a few stray blasts of magic flying wide, narrowly missing the hulking brute. She needed range or a moment's respite to get off an accurate shot, and whether the beast knew it or not, it was denying her the opportunity.

Again the manticore lunged, trying to get in close with its evasive opponent, but this time, Ceymi did the unexpected. Rather than leaping back, she lowered her head and lunged in. The long, jagged horn plunged into the beast's chest, her body turning as she dodged past its bulk, and pulled back--only to have the horn catch in the creature's ribs. It was only an instant, but it was enough; the manticore's tail swung in, and with a sickening crunch, the barbed tip pierced the Princess's side.

With a flash of green, the horn tore free of the manticore, and Ceymi staggered back from the stricken beast. She managed only a few steps before crying out, her legs giving way as she dropped to her side.

Nictis cried out her name, rushing to her side. The Princess growled in pain, teeth clenched, a leg clutched to the wound in her side. Without even thinking he clutched his forelegs around her. Ceymi's eyes shot open, going silent despite the tremble going through her. Her emotional blockade was wavering, giving him glimpses of fear and despair. "Nictis," she gasped, then cringed again. Her breathing was growing faster.

"Ceymi," he said, mind reeling. "You... I don't..."

"Nictis," she hissed sharply, and reflex silenced him. "...Both the soldiers are dead. You... your disguise. Take your disguise."

"...Ceymi--"

"Be silent!" she hissed, before being overwhelmed by coughing. When she resumed, her voice was strained, a faint gurgle to her breathing. "I am... poisoned. The tail. You must look... find any who escaped."

Nictis was shaking his head, eyes watering. Ceymi reached up, clutching him in her hooves. "Listen to me! Do you remember? Do you remember what I told you... Starry Night. Her family. Do you?"

Shaking, Nictis nodded.

"They live in a house... just outside the forest, in Hoofington. You must go to them." As Nictis started to shake his head, Ceymi cried out, "You must! The forest... too dangerous for nymphs. Too far from home. Go to them. Hide. G-grow. Grow s-stronger, until you can make the journey h-home."

Nictis's voice caught in his throat. "C-Ceymi, please."

"Nictis!" She shook him, limbs already weak. "I am dead! You... you are too valuable to die now. A whole... generation..." She shook as coughing wracked her body. Her defiant countenance faltered, face scrunching up in pain.

Eventually, she reached up, clutching his head. "Oh, child..." Her horn lit up as she pulled her student in close, until their horns touched. A sudden surge flowed through him as she poured out the energies she held. It was amazing, exciting, a more powerful feeling than he had ever felt before. So much power, so many stolen emotions held by the Princess, all dominated by pure love. "For you... all my love..."

The flow petered out in an instant, leaving Nictis reeling. It was too much, far too much for him to hold. His head pounded, most of the energy burning off uselessly. He barely noticed the shuddering body held in his grip until it weakened and stopped.

He looked down at Ceymi. She had gone slack in his grip. Her head had rolled to the side, resting against her shoulder, her eyes only barely open. They stared, fixed ahead, unseeing. "Ceymi," he said weakly, knowing he would get no response. She had poured out all her life and love into him, and he couldn't even hold onto that.

Ceymi was dead. One of the Princesses. One of their greatest minds, likely the most experienced Infiltrator alive, one of the most important changelings in the entire hive. Even as he thought this, he couldn't help but think of the more personal losses: His mentor. His link to home. His future as an Infiltrator.

The one changeling he had looked up to and admired was dead, and his dreams died with her.

Broken and hopeless, he buried his face against her chest, crying into the night.

Chapter 3: Alone

Chapter 3: Alone

Late in the morning, a ragged and dirty unicorn filly staggered out of the forest.

It had been the worst morning of Nictis's life. He had woken only to again see Princess Ceymi, his mentor, lying still and lifeless. He lay where he had collapsed the previous night, after a half-hearted search for survivors; a few minutes of staggering around in the dark, finding nothing but remains. Most had been gathered in the middle of the clearing, the broken bodies of nymphs laying where they fell. Rather than flee, they had attempted to stand their ground, to protect each other. When the soldiers fell, they couldn't have lasted long.

Two were missing, giving Nictis just a glimmer of hope, only to have it shattered when he followed the torn up ground and brush to find what little remained of them.

Lying there, he simply stared, motionless for several minutes. Even with the slightly bloated feeling of all the loving energy he held, he could feel nothing but a hollow emptiness inside him. Everything was gone.

Eventually, he rose. Inside, he couldn't help but feel that everything was hopeless, that he might as well just stay there with Ceymi, wait to die with the rest of the changelings slain there, but he knew he could not. He was too important, Ceymi had said. He must live. She had given him an order, and he would follow it. He would have to go on. Even if he couldn't see how, he had to try.

He cast one last look over Ceymi, tears starting to well up again. There was one thing more important than his own survival: the secret. The shroud that hid the hive and their existence safely away from their foes. His horn lit up with green fire. He had more than enough energy within him for the task.

As he reached the edge of the forest, thick smoke billowed up from the distant trees behind him. Nothing remained of the ill-fated expedition but fine ash, the fires spreading to consume everything around that horrible scene. The whole damn forest could burn for all he cared.

Green flame flashed across his body as he retook his disguise, struggling to focus his grief-dulled mind. Meadow Song. I am Meadow Song. Just a normal unicorn filly...

Weakly, numbly, Meadow Song trudged on toward Hoofington.

The outskirts of the town of Hoofington stretched almost all the way to the Everfree Forest, yet one house sat slightly apart from the others, partly shrouded by the trees.

By the edge of the forest. Meadow looked around. If not that house, then one of the others nearby, and hopefully the ponies there could point her to the correct one. She approached it, mind dully cycling through the information she needed to remember. Starry Eyes. Misty Dawn. Gray Oak.

It's not enough, Meadow thought, anxiety beginning to creep past the cold numbness. She wasn't ready for this, not alone. She knew only the most basics of pony culture, and almost nothing of the pony she would claim to know. She had no practical experience beyond tricking a few foals too distracted by a stupid game to pay her any attention. She wasn't an Infiltrator. She was just an overeager nymph with some very basic training, and she was walking blind into the den of her foes.

It wasn't enough, yet she had no choice. She couldn't turn back. Even if she could evade all the monsters living in that giant forest, it had been two nights of hard flight under the nigh-impenetrable canopy, and another across the badlands beyond. They had likely traveled a few hundred miles, maybe more, and she had only the vaguest idea of the direction they had taken. It would take a miracle to find her way home before she starved, and she was certain there was no love to be found in those dark wilds and dead wastes. Here, at least, she could survive.

The house was drawing nearer. It was different than most of the other structures, the walls made entirely out of wood, rather than using wood as a frame for that strange white stuff that formed the majority of the walls. Meadow frowned. She didn't even know the name of what appeared to be one of the most common building materials. What kind of pony wouldn't know that? She had no clue what she was doing, and... She shook her head in a vain attempt to clear her thoughts. No. I can do this. I have to do this.

She gingerly opened the gate in the low, wall-like structure that ringed the house, an odd construction of perpendicular slats of wood spaced too widely to function as any kind of proper wall, and did her best to avoid dwelling on the fact that she didn't know the name for that, either. Walking carefully along the small stone path, she stepped up onto the small landing at the front of the house, before coming to face the first obstacle on her path to hiding among these ponies.

A door.

The hive didn't have doors. There were no cultural standards on how to deal with them, and there was no proper concept of private spaces, not when any of the thousands of drones might have wandered through any area at practically any time. Their studies had progressed enough that Meadow knew ponies had peculiar notions about privacy, but not to the point where they had learned any particulars. It had been just enough to know that ponies were extremely sensitive about the matter, that they could become extremely upset and even hostile about any perceived violation of those strange social rules, and that there were some things you never do in private that you could do in public. Or was it the other way around? Or both? She gave a trembling sigh, trying to focus her mind.

She would have to wing it and hope for the best.

It seemed fairly obvious to her that ponies would like to be treated with respect--who doesn't?--but she had no idea what a pony would consider respectful. The best comparison she had from life in the hive was the deference given to the Princesses, or better yet, the Queen. Even though she typically dwelt in a public space, it was considered respectful to announce one's presence when approaching her. Or perhaps more correctly, it was considered very unwise to not do so. In any case, barring any knowledge on how to properly deal with the current obstacle, it seemed the appropriate course of action.

"Hello?" she called out in a soft, wavering voice, one that could probably barely be heard at all from behind that door. A moment later she tried again, slightly louder.

No response came. Most likely, any ponies inside couldn't hear her. She could call out louder, but the thought of shouting to get a pony's attention didn't seem like the most polite and respectful method of gaining their attention. The thought of a changeling doing so in order to get the attention of the Queen was almost enough to make Meadow blanch. The ponies must have a better way of handling this situation.

She thought back. She had seen several ponies approach doors in Colton. The ones going up to the shops just opened the door and walked in, as had some of the ponies approaching homes, but many of the ponies going to homes had stopped and rapped a hoof against the door, then waited to be let in. That seemed like a possibility, but she was conflicted. Was knocking and waiting socially dominant or submissive? Were they a guest waiting for the host to decide if they could enter, or was it a master expecting their underlings to open the door for them? Though if they were expecting such, shouldn't they have an underling accompanying them so they didn't have to knock themselves? Yes, the former possibility seemed more likely.

Meadow timidly lifted a foreleg and tapped the edge of her hoof against the door. It was almost silent. A bit worried, she repeated the gesture, but slightly more firmly. This time it made a soft but clear sound.

For a few moments, nothing happened. She was about to try again when the sound of movement inside caught her attention. A moment later there was a soft click on the other side of the door, and it swung open.

An elderly earth pony mare stood there when the door opened. Despite the coloration, a light blue coat with a curly, golden-yellow mane, the similarity between her and Starry Eyes was certain. The build, the face, and most notably, those same clear-blue eyes which were now looking down with surprise at the bedraggled unicorn filly on her doorstep, fur disheveled and dirty, her cheeks wet. "Oh!" the mare said in surprise, taken aback by the unexpected sight. "Oh my. What happened?"

"I..." Meadow had started to automatically reply, to blurt out some quick lie, but she checked herself. This was not a time to go flailing about wildly. She had been trained in this. Deception, lies, manipulation. Ceymi had spent so long teaching them this, insisting that it was the most important aspect of an Infiltrator's training.

When you try to deceive your prey, a conversation becomes a battle of words and thoughts.

And in a battle, you have to take control, never letting the opponent have the initiative. Control where the conversation goes, fight on your own terms. Keep them off-balance, so that you weaken their ability to strike back. Weaken them enough, and it should be easy to get exactly what you want.

She drew in a breath, trying to calm her nerves. She did have one clear advantage: ponies were emotional creatures, and the sight of a distraught foal was obviously uncomfortable to this mare. Meadow's voice wavered, only mostly intentional. "A-are you M-Misty Dawn?"

Surprise and concern met the comment. The first strike delivered, the foe pushed off-balance, forced to react instead of lead. The mare nodded faintly. "Yes, I am. Who are you, dear?" Another pony was approaching to stand beside the mare, a gray unicorn with brown hair and silver eyes, a folded bundle of papers held beside him in his magic. He must be Gray Oak.

Words are like weapons; always use them correctly. Some are blunt instruments, used to batter down an opponent. Others, such as the subtle use of tenses, are a dagger hidden in one's hoof, sneaking in to slip past their defenses.

"I-I'm Meadow Song," she said weakly. "I... I knew Starry Eyes."

The mare's eyes widened just slightly, a momentary shock before her fear rose up. It was a bitter taste, yet one that Meadow was pleased to sense. The thrust had found its mark. Misty stammered slightly. "Y-you... she..."

As with any battle, strike where you are strong, and where your opponent is weak. Push any advantage you can get.

Emotion was on her side now.

Establish a connection. "W-we met a little while back." Build sympathy. "I was on my own for so long, but she took me in. She took care of me, let me come along on her expedition." Build an emotional investment. Emotions could be hard to fake convincingly, but there were ways to work around that; it took only a moment of thinking back to the sight of Ceymi's body lying unmoving in the field to bring back that terrible tightness in her throat, eyes watering anew. "She was the only friend I've ever had. She took care of me like I was her own child..."

Misty was now clutching the stallion, trying to deny the feeling of horror rising inside her.

"She was the only one who ever cared for me like that! A-and then... last night... we were camped in the Everfree, and... these monsters..." The image of the manticore's stinger sinking into Ceymi's side ran through her mind, followed by the sight of her shuddering on the ground, face scrunched up in pain. Meadow's legs nearly gave out as she heaved a deep sob, but she forced herself to remember, to not push the images away. One final, finishing blow. "She tried to fight them off... to protect us... but they got her... I didn't know where to go!"

Finally, she sunk down to the ground, while Misty clutched Gray Oak, sobbing, the stallion doing the best he could to comfort her despite the pain and sorrow radiating from him. Even through the pain of her own sorrow, Meadow couldn't help but feel a little proud of how well she handled her first real confrontation. Nothing builds sympathy quite so swiftly as shared suffering.

It was awkwardly quiet inside the home of Misty Dawn and Gray Oak. The crying had been fairly short-lived, but the sorrow ran far too deep to dissipate as swiftly, for any of them. The two older ponies sat on a couch, holding each other for comfort, while Meadow sat in a nearby chair, taking the occasional nibble out of... well, she knew it was a sandwich, thanks to Misty asking if she wanted one, but that didn't really tell her what it was. The flowers in the middle were easy enough, but the strange, spongy substance that they were, well, sandwiched inside of, was something entirely new. She had to force herself off of such distracting topics. She had to keep up appearances of being a sad, distraught little filly, instead of giving in to the numbness that threatened to overtake her. The thought of Ceymi made that all too easy, despite how happy Meadow was with her handling of the current situation. They had invited her into their home, and she could feel the strong sympathy they felt toward her.

Meadow had to remind herself at some point that ponies consider those flank-markings particularly important, and had surreptitiously snuck a glance of theirs; the mare's was a sun casting rays below it, while the stallion's was simply a tree. Even his own fate was uncreative, Meadow noted derisively, while idly wondering if ponies would make note of such a thing.

The quiet couldn't last forever, though. Meadow could see Misty wavering on the edge of a decision for a few minutes, indecisive, before she finally managed to ask one question. "What... what happened?"

Meadow had known they would ask eventually, but she had little to go with. Every detail she could present would be one more that could reveal a lie. She would need to say something, but something vague. She took a deep breath.

"It was just a small little trip," she said, slowly. "Just a few other ponies. We weren't even going to be out that long, just... just a little trip." She paused a moment, trying to appear uncomfortable with the fictitious tale. "They set up camp. Starry and I were getting ready for sleep, when... when the manticores..."

She paused again, but it was not an act this time. The manticores were all too real of a memory. She swallowed past the lump in her throat, trying to push the image of those beasts into the background; that memory helped conjure up the emotions she needed to present, but they also distracted her from working out the details of her tale. She had the opportunity to craft the event exactly how she wanted it, for the maximum effect. Perhaps...

An opportunity presented itself. "Everything was just so crazy, every--" She cut herself off. She had been about to say "everyling," then maybe "everyone," but ponies just had to make their own weird version of the word, just to confuse everyling. "...everypony started screaming and running around. I don't know exactly what happened, except... Starry told me to run. I... I didn't want to leave her, but she insisted, so I did... but she didn't run with me." She sniffed, wiping a foreleg against her nose. "S-she didn't run. She stayed and tried to distract the monsters. I... I don't think I would have made it if she hadn't..."

It was risky, Meadow knew. They could easily take it as her having cost them their daughter, but she was pleased to see a faint smile on the elder ponies' faces, a glimmer of pride at their daughter's fictitious sacrifice. Ponies are so easy.

Eventually, the decision came that she had been hoping for.

"I don't know what we can do," Gray Oak said, his voice soft and steady despite the sorrow she felt in him. "But we'll make sure you're taken care of. It's the least we could do for you, bein' a friend of our daughter."

"Thank you," Meadow croaked out weakly. Past the grief, she couldn't help the self-satisfied cry of triumph she let out in her mind, a bittersweet smile on her face.

Misty quickly wiped at her eyes and stood, grief abruptly pushed to the background. "I-I'm sorry, we should get you all cleaned up. The bathroom is back this way. Come on, I'm sure you'll feel better after a good bath."

Meadow was somewhat amused by the change in behavior. Ponies pushed far enough by emotion would often fall back to familiar, comfortable behaviors, Ceymi had said, and it seemed Misty's comfortable behavior was that of a mother caring for a foal. Meadow considered that as she followed the mare. If ponies drew such strong bonds simply by a matter of family, culturing such a familial connection would be the perfect way to build affection.

Soon Meadow was shown into the "bathroom," which she had supposed was a room containing a bath, but instead appeared to contain everything but. There were several fixtures, one of which she recognized as a toilet--Meadow still wasn't sure why Ceymi had thought that one particular pony invention deserved such special and early mention in their lessons--but the rest were a mystery. The most prominent was a giant, elongated metal bowl, large enough to fit a pony in, with some strange knobs and a curtain that could be closed around it. She looked at it strangely, a look that Misty missed while turning a couple of the knobs.

Things were made much more clear when water started pouring out from a spigot and began to fill the metal bowl. It was rather extravagant, something that increasingly seemed common for ponies, but it made sense. Back in the hive, they would just use a pool of water to bathe in, but ponies had made this complicated contraption so they could make a pool when they wanted, and drain it away when they didn't need it anymore. It seemed horribly impractical, which of course meant it fit in perfectly with her impression of ponies so far. "Uselessly extravagant" was going to be a common impression, she imagined.

Misty slipped off for a moment to get her a "towel," which turned out to be a large piece of thick cloth. Who knew what purpose it held, though hopefully she'd find out before she made too obvious of a gaffe. Considering how meticulously clean most of the ponies had seemed, except for a few of the foals playing games, bathing must be something they all knew from a young age. That could be a problem, seeing as how she hadn't even recognized a bathtub when she saw it.

Next, Misty was turning the knobs again, the flow of water ending. She looked over to Meadow, uncertain. "Would you like me to help you clean up?"

Meadow nodded, thankful for the opportunity to learn this apparently important aspect of pony life. Misty smiled the tiniest bit in response, then gestured. "Well, climb on in the tub and we'll get you scrubbed down."

Any complaints of "useless extravagance" running through her head died the moment she slipped into the water. They not only made a system to fill and empty this "tub" with water, they made it so it would heat the water! And it was amazing! All that Infiltrator training failed to suppress the faint moan that escaped her lips as the heat enveloped her, soaking into her tired muscles. Maybe this soft, fleshy body wasn't entirely bad; she couldn't imagine the heat seeping into her body and soothing her quite the same way with a solid carapace in the way. That hardly made up for the other deficiencies of this pathetic form, but it was nice to have found one potential advantage.

Fur, however, was showing itself again to be one of those deficiencies. Even with Misty helping, it took a surprising amount of work to get the dirt out of that fluffy, annoying stuff. Meadow would have thought that dirt wouldn't show that well on brown fur, yet somehow it managed. Together they scrubbed and scraped, working out all the traces of gray and brown and black that dirtied her coat--and the few specks of red that both of them did their best to not consciously notice.

"Goodness," Misty said softly as she scrubbed at a particularly muddy leg. "Did you roll through half the forest on your way here?" She cracked a very weak smile, though she felt only uneasy concern.

Meadow, in response, made a weak smile at the poor attempt at humor, coupled with a faint sound that could generously be interpreted as a chuckle. She was rewarded by a swelling of affection from Misty, such a delicious feeling. She drew in only the tiniest taste, far too tiny for anyone to notice, particularly not a pony with their limited senses. She didn't want to do anything to impede its growth.

"Just how long has it been since you've had a good bath, anyway?"

Meadow thought quickly. What would be a span of time that would be long, but not inappropriately long? Any actual answer would likely be too specific. She decided on something a little more vague. "A while. There aren't many tubs out in the woods."

Misty smiled with sincerity this time, giving an affectionate rub at the foal's mane.

Sadly, all the scrubbing and cleaning left her with little time to enjoy the warm, luxurious bath. The cleaning would have been done in moments if it had been a simple matter of washing off her familiar carapace, dirt and muck rubs right off the smooth surface, without all this excessive scrubbing. Even worse, she soon learned that it was not the worst disadvantage of fur, so far as bathing went. She learned this as she exited the tub, only to learn that fur had an amazing ability to retain water.

At least she learned what purpose a towel had: it was, generously speaking, a device for drying a pony off after a bath, though it could be more accurately described as one which, after several minutes of furious rubbing, might reduce a pony from "wet" to merely "damp." The fur clung close to her hide, while her--thankfully short!--mane and tail hung limp and heavy.

She was beginning to develop a deep loathing for fur.

When they returned, Gray Oak was sitting where they had left him, but he was now looking through a large book set on the table before him. Misty huffed out a sad breath, but she smiled when he looked up to her. With a faint tremble, she walked over and sat at his side, tenderly pulling Meadow in to sit beside her. Meadow followed along, leaning over slightly to get a better look at the book that had both their attention.

It was filled with pictures of Starry Eyes. Other ponies showed up on occasion, usually one or both of her parents, but Starry was the one feature common among them. The two older ponies leaned into each other, eyes tearing up as they looked over the memories.

They turned the page, and Misty let out a choked, bittersweet laugh, reaching out to fondly touch one of the pictures. It showed Starry Eyes, little older than Meadow Song looked, wearing a cut-up sack, a hat made of folded paper, and carrying a flag made of an old branch with a blue pillowcase tied to the end. "Her first adventure," Misty said, voice raw from sadness, but she smiled happily at the memory. "Almost got lost in Harvest Bounty's fields, trying to find the ruins of a lost civilization. Found the remains of an old wall from before Harvest extended her fields, and she decided it was the remains of an ancient castle of a lost princess." She smiled, giving the photo a tender stroke of her hoof.

More photos drew more tales, each new one drawing a weak but genuine smile from the two ponies, and Meadow listened intently, soaking in every detail. Rarely, she would slip in a word or two of her own, agreeing with some assessment of their daughter's adventurous or caring ways, which always made their faint smiles--and their budding affection--just a little stronger.

"And there she is, just back from her very first expedition," Misty said softly. "It... we knew what she was doing was dangerous. We worried so many times. We could have lost her then, or countless times since then, but... but how could we deny her what made her so h-happy?" Her voice cracked, a tear running down her cheek. Gray Oak's leg squeezed comfortingly around her, leaning in to give his silent support.

Meadow, however, was leaning in to see the picture more clearly. To her, it was not Starry Eyes in that photo. It was Ceymi. There wasn't a single physical sign to tell the difference between the real Starry Eyes and her replacement, but Meadow knew she had been replaced. She knew she was looking at Ceymi behind that disguise, entering this happy place in her life. Meadow blinked a few times, fighting back tears of her own.

The stories continued, the couple telling short, happy tales of their daughter Starry Eyes, completely oblivious to her true nature. Meadow watched and listened to the tales, halfway between fascination and sorrow. Every tale now was about her mentor.

At some point they had dinner. It was a simple affair of a bunch of different vegetables cut in different ways and scrambled together--a salad--and some water that had been heated, with other vegetables and spices mixed into it--soup, apparently. It was even pretty tasty. Meadow, however, was too lost in thought to really appreciate it, making only a passing note of it.

She was eventually roused by Gray Oak's question. "Do you have any family?"

Meadow looked up from her meal, blinking. So many possible answers ran through her head, but the one she settled on was the most truthful. "Somewhere. I don't know where, but... but someday I'll find them again."

She had never seen what "heartbroken" looked like, but she was pretty sure it was what Misty Dawn's expression was, just before the older pony left her chair and embraced Meadow in a firm hug. "You'll find them," she murmured, the powerful feeling of sympathy and affection swelling in Meadow's senses. "You'll find them."

It was evening when Misty Dawn showed Meadow to another room of the house: a bedroom.

Meadow looked around. The large fluffy-looking object must be the bed, it was the only thing large and uncluttered enough for a pony to sleep on. There was a desk with a variety of books, scrolls, and other, less identifiable objects. A dresser, a mirror, a chest, a broad assortment of various little statues, stones, carvings, and so forth. "...is this?..."

Misty nodded softly. "It's her room. We always kept it ready for her, for when she came h-home..." Her voice caught, and she went still for a moment, before flashing a faint smile.

Together, they entered the room. Meadow slowly walked around, looking at everything gathered in here. The tales they had told earlier had mentioned all the little keepsakes and souvenirs that Starry--that is to say, Ceymi--had brought back from her expeditions. Slowly she looked over each one, wondering where the Princess had found them.

Finally, she made her way by the desk, where Misty stood, one hoof gently touched to a small device resting atop it, a circular metal object with a glass face. Meadow peered at it for several seconds before recognition struck. "That looks just like Starry's cutie mark."

Misty gave the faintest tremble. "Her first compass," she said quietly, then let out a faint chuckle. "Thing barely even works, but she took it everywhere. Every little foalhood adventure. She even brought it along on a few of her expeditions. I... I think she left it here because she was worried she'd lose it." She let out another soft chuckle, despite the pain in her voice. She gave the compass a soft, loving pat. "...now then, you should get to sleep. Gray and I need to talk. We'll have a lot to do tomorrow."

Misty lifted the covers, and Meadow climbed into bed. Leaning in, Misty gave a soft kiss atop her head, whispering softly. "Sleep well, child. Everything will be fine now."

She turned off the light and left, giving one final glance before shutting the door.

Meadow sighed and stretched out, rolling around a bit in the bed. Oh, it was so wonderful. Sure, she was completely used to sleeping on bare rock and hardened wax, and could even endure the hard ground with this fragile, soft body she was imitating. This, however, was something entirely different. It was so soft, curving with her body. No hard ridges or lumps poking uncomfortably at her, no awkward and uneven terrain leaving her curled in uncomfortable poses while she slept. These ponies certainly knew how to make the most basic things in life so pleasant.

Curling up in the blankets, she drifted away into her thoughts. This was the same bed Ceymi had slept in, all those times. Normally, sharing a space another changeling had spent time in would mean nothing, but this... there was something different about it. The place itself was more important, much like how the Queen's throne was more important than some bare patch of rock where another changeling might sit. It wasn't just a bed Ceymi had slept in. It was Ceymi's bed. She had slept here during her visits, during the happier times of her life, enjoying the luxurious moments that came among the difficulties and hazards of being an Infiltrator.

And now... now those times were gone forever. Meadow shoved the thought away, curling up tighter in the blankets, trying to ignore it.

The tears came anyway.

It was shortly after breakfast--she didn't know what pancakes were, other than delicious--when Misty Dawn and Gray Oak sat her down, saying they needed to tell her something.

They were uneasy, particularly Misty, who seemed to be on the edge of some difficult dilemma. Meadow could sense conflicting emotions in Gray Oak, as well as regret and uncertainty, but they seemed muted under the feeling of sympathy and determination.

While she wouldn't allow any impression of it, Meadow was scared. Something important was coming up, something that she knew nothing about, and she was doubtful that she'd be able to influence their decision much. Misty, perhaps, but Gray seemed determined to see this through.

"Meadow Song," he said. "This might not be easy, but Misty and I have talked it over." Meadow tried not to show her anxiety. This was not starting off well. "We want to help you, but there isn't much we can do for you." Getting worse. "We can't raise and take care of a foal ourselves now, much less do anything to help you find your family." Yep, she was being cast out. "...I know it's probably not what you want, but there's only one place we know of that can take care of you, and help you." She was a failure. All the connections she thought she had been so masterfully crafting were unwinding before her eyes. "It's... well, it's an orphanage."

Of all the worst--wait, a what?

"What's an orphanage?" Meadow blurted out.

Gray considered the question a moment. "Well... see, it's a home, but a very large home. It's a place for little foals who have lost their families. You'll have other foals your age to play with, good food and care, and schooling. I know of the couple that runs the place, and they do wonderful work finding homes for the foals under their care. I..." He paused, taking a deep breath. The feeling of unease was rising steadily. "I don't want you to feel like we're kicking you out, or anything like that. I meant what I said earlier, but I think that if there's anypony that can help you find your family again, it's them."

Gray Oak was clearly concerned that she would be upset about this, but as Meadow thought, she couldn't imagine why. A place for orphaned foals? Foals were stupid and gullible, it would be easy to deceive them, and they seemed so quick to grow attached to new ponies. Better yet, these were foals who had lost their families. A strong emotional conflict already in-place, ready to be exploited. It was like a giant feast, just for her! And on top of that, having every need taken care of, and education! They would teach her all she needed to know about ponies, without her even having to put any effort into it. It was perfect. It was greater than anything she could have hoped for.

She had to temper her reply, as obviously they expected her to see it as less than ideal. Best not to shake expectations too severely. "That... that actually sounds pretty good," she offered, with a smile.

"Are you sure?" Misty asked, a little too quickly, and she just nodded again.

"Yeah," Meadow replied, smiling more.

The trip was planned for that afternoon. The older couple treated her to a light lunch before Misty brought out her old camera, to add one more picture to the collection. Once that was done, they gathered their lightly-loaded saddlebags and departed. Traveling through town, and passing among all the ponies in it, made Meadow feel slightly anxious, but that was nothing compared to what waited for her at a strange-looking structure called a "train station." Part of it was like the other structures, but it had a broad, covered platform where a few ponies had gathered. Beside that platform were "tracks," as Misty called them, just two long strips of metal, supported by wooden slats. Everypony stood expectantly near those tracks.

Soon they took their place on the platform as well. It took only a few moments for it to feel increasingly absurd. They were supposed to be traveling. Why, then, were they just standing in place?

"Oh, here comes the train," Misty said, and Meadow's heart nearly stopped.

A giant, smoke-belching metal monstrosity was tearing its way along the tracks. The volume of it grew greater and greater as it drew closer, punctuated by a sudden, piercing squeal as it began to slow. The thing was massive, so large it had to be segmented into individual parts, and each segment was the size of a small building. More than a dozen of them were strung together, hauled along by the giant machine at its head, which itself stood many times the height of a pony. It made its way past them, slowing, until it finally ground to a halt.

Meadow stared wide-eyed at it, hardly able to comprehend what she saw. Now some ponies inside the contraption were getting out, and the ponies on the platform were getting in, most of them hauling bags and bundles with them.

"Never seen a train before?" Gray Oak asked, and Meadow was too awestruck by the sight to do anything other than shake her head.

Eventually, it was their turn to board. They made their way in, with Meadow very gingerly crossing from the platform into the train itself. She was able to remain composed as they got to their seats, only to have it fail the moment the train rocked slightly under her. The ground is not supposed to move!

Where the slight rocking of the train was enough to unsettle her, the lurch and grind of it beginning to accelerate was terrifying. A faint rattle went through the train, growing in frequency as the vehicle gained speed, the deep, rhythmic sound of the front-most section growing faster by the moment. The buildings were sliding by, soon replaced by fields and trees as the train hurtled away from the city.

They were halfway to their destination before she was able to feel properly calm again, and even then, the lurching tilt she felt every time the train entered a turn got her heart pounding in her chest. Despite her misgivings, she could see the merit of this form of transportation. They were going easily faster than a gallop, possibly faster than she could fly in her natural form, and this beast of a machine showed no signs of tiring.

Only an hour after departing, the train pulled into the station in a town named Mareville. Meadow tried to act calm, legs quivering slightly as she quickly got off the train. It was nice to have made the trip in a fraction of the time, but it was something that would take some time to get used to.

As the more personal unease faded, a more detached, strategic thinking took over. Ponies had made this impressive machine, which had just transported many dozen ponies and many hundreds of pounds of cargo across a significant distance as swiftly as a fast changeling could fly. Changelings didn't have anything like it. Granted, they didn't typically need to move such large quantities of changelings and materials, much less over such a significant distance, but when they did it took many more changelings, and much more time and effort. And this was a machine for civil purposes. What manner of creations might they have if they were ever roused to fight?

She quickly pushed those thoughts away. It hardly mattered to her, right? She was an Infiltrator. Or at least, sort-of kind-of an Infiltrator. In any case, she was not a soldier, or a strategist, or anyone else who would have to worry about dealing with angry Equestrian armies and their theoretical multi-ton killing machines. No, she just had to focus on surviving. Surviving, and not doing anything that would give away the secret of her species' existence, which would surely lead to those theoretical multi-ton--

No. Focus. Again she pushed those thoughts away. She had more immediate concerns to think of, such as how to best establish herself in the upcoming buffet these ponies called an orphanage.

It was only a short trip from the train station before they reached a large gate, standing open, with an intricate sign made of curved metal bars arcing over it. The words announced the "Rising Sun Orphanage," and behind it rose one of the largest structures Meadow had seen among the ponies. It was as large as one of the hive's defensive spires, but laid horizontally rather than vertically and no more than two levels tall. It had the same blocky design as most of their buildings, but it was made primarily of stone, which somehow made it look more natural in Meadow's eyes. Several foals were playing in the field nearby, watched over by a content-looking stallion.

"Are you okay?"

Meadow blinked, not quite realizing how intently she had been watching. She glanced up to Misty, who again looked concerned. "Oh. Yes, of course," she assured, giving a genuine smile. "This place looks perfect."

Misty was obviously pleased by this. "Well, I guess we should head in, then."

After the short walk up the path, they passed through the large front doors, entering a grand lobby. Meadow was halfway torn between disgust at such a large space being wasted for such little purpose, and appreciation for how good they managed to make the useless space look. It was certainly pretty, with polished stone, hardwood banisters on the curving staircases and upper balcony, and the large chandelier hanging overhead, refracting the sunlight filtering in from the broad upper windows. Uselessly extravagant, naturally.

One of the ponies working there greeted them, then quickly fetched the mare who ran the place. That mare turned out to be a middle-aged pony, pale pink with rosy red mane and pale-blue eyes, and sporting a garish red heart emblazoned on her flanks. Surprisingly, she was already giving off a strong sense of sympathy the moment she had come into sight, even before introducing herself to them as Crimson Heart, owner and operator of the Rising Sun Orphanage. It grew even stronger when Misty Dawn and Gray Oak gave a shortened version of the previous day's events.

"Oh, that's just horrible," Crimson Heart said, eyes full of sadness when she heard the--thankfully abridged--tale of the fictional ill-fated expedition, while Meadow was quite thankful for all the training and practice that helped her hide the incredulity she felt. This mare was pouring out affection for ponies she had met only moments before. If even a few ponies here were so welcoming, this place was going to be the grandest feast she had ever experienced!

"I'm sure we'll be able to take good care of little Meadow," Crimson was assuring them while coordinating with a few members of the staff. "We have plenty of room available, always did have more room than we needed--and thank goodness for that, I should think. Please excuse me, I'll go make sure everything is taken care of, if you'd like a few moments alone."

With that, and a parting smile, she hurried off to catch a few more of the staff.

They stood there for many long seconds before Gray Oak broke the silence. "Well..."

Misty let out a deep sigh, then stepped in and gave Meadow a firm hug. "I'm sorry. I just feel like you've just come into our lives, and we're kicking you out. I... I hope that she can help you find your family, wherever they are, and that you don't feel like we're abandoning you."

"It's okay," Meadow said, comfortingly, while drawing steadily on the delicious emotions coursing from the older mare. "This should work out fine."

"We can write to you," Misty said quickly, glancing up to Gray Oak, who smiled and nodded. "And... and we have a few things to give you."

She unbuckled her saddlebags, lifting them over to set them lightly across Meadow's back. They were a bit large for her but lightly loaded. "A few brushes, and stuff like that," Misty said as she opened one of the flaps, and drew out the small compass Meadow had seen the night before, now strung on a loop of cord. "And this. Something to remember Starry by. I think she would have liked for you to have it." Misty's voice was wavering faintly, again, eyes glistening. "Who knows, maybe someday it'll help you find your way to your family."

Meadow took the small compass in her hoof, faking an appreciative smile. Such absurd sentimentality and romanticism. Despite that thought, as she held it she couldn't help but imagine Ceymi holding the same compass, however long ago. "Thank you," she replied, voice suddenly sounding very small.

More hugs were given, the three of them spending their remaining moments together in silence.

Chapter 4: Welcome to the Herd

Chapter 4: Welcome to the Herd

Meadow Song followed Crimson Heart into the large bedroom. Compared to the one she had been in previously, this one seemed rather sparse. Oh, it had plenty of furnishings: a pair of beds, with chests and end-tables, two dressers, a desk, a table with a pair of chairs, and a large closet. It just lacked anything at all apart from those. There were none of the decorations and keepsakes that had adorned her last bedroom so that, despite being quite well-furnished, it still seemed empty in comparison.

Normally, this wouldn't be a problem for Meadow. The hive had almost nothing in the way of furnishings or personal possessions. At the moment, however, it was slightly confusing and disconcerting. Her experiences of pony culture were sorely lacking, and her experiences of bedrooms, in particular, was even more so. That experience was now up to a grand total of two rooms, and they were different enough to be concerning. The only comfort was that both bedrooms did, indeed, contain a bed.

Or two, in this case. She hoped that didn't mean anything significant.

"I hope this will do for tonight," Crimson was saying as she straightened the covers on one of the beds. "I like to make sure everypony is as comfortable as they can be, so if you'd rather take a different room, just ask me, or any of the staff, and we'll help you out with it."

"This should be fine," she said, eying the other bed curiously.

Crimson evidently caught that glance. "Oh, don't worry about that. All the rooms have two beds. We'd been worried that there wouldn't be enough room for everypony when we were starting out. It was silly, of course, thankfully we've never been close to filling up all the rooms. A few of the foals pair up with a friend, but I think most of them like having their own room, all to themselves."

Uncertain how to reply to that, Meadow let out a simple "Ah," while continuing to look around the room.

Crimson stepped up to her, gently laying a foreleg around her shoulders and giving a gentle, comforting squeeze. The part of Meadow that balked at the touch of a pony's disgustingly fleshy body was completely buried under the part that was enjoying the wonderful taste of sympathy coming from the mare.

"I know this is a hard time for you," Crimson said, her voice soft and caring, but with something, a certain strength, that suggested that this was something she was quite thoroughly familiar with. "I want you to know, we're all here for you. If there's anything you ever need, anything that might help, in any way, just ask any of us. Okay?"

Meadow nodded.

"Don't worry, little Meadow. We'll take good care of you, as good as if you were our own child. We'll find your family."

Oh, I doubt that, Meadow thought, bitterly. It would certainly be an impressive display of talent to accomplish that, and while she would certainly love to have found her way home, having that knowledge come through a pony would be... bad.

"In the meantime," Crimson continued, "we should get you settled in and introduced. Hopefully, your stay won't be very long, but we should make you comfortable while you're with us, right?"

She gave another comforting squeeze as a prompt. Meadow gave a weak smile to humor the mare. Oh, I don't plan on going anywhere.

"Good!" Crimson said, letting her hoof fall back to the floor, and giving Meadow a comforting smile. "We'll need to talk over a few things, so we know where to begin on your schooling and such. I also think you should talk with my sister, Gentle Heart. She's our counselor, here. But that can all wait for tomorrow." She nudged Meadow gently. "Right now, I think we should get you some food, and introduce you to the other foals."

Meadow's smile grew at the thought of meeting the other foals. "Yeah, I could do with some food."

The dining hall was a huge room, featuring a pair of long tables that spanned most of its length. The columns, polished wood, and stonework were supposedly of the highest quality, even if Meadow wasn't sure what made them so. Crimson had been describing the place as they walked, and Meadow had apparently acted a little too interested in what the older mare was saying, which had prompted a lengthy explanation of how the place used to be one of a noble family's summer manors, and how it had eventually been offered up cheap, right when they were looking to set up their orphanage. Meadow just smiled and nodded at the appropriate moments, while mentally cursing the dedication to her training that insisted she pay attention to every word.

Yes, absorbing everything a pony said was the only way to be sure not to miss something important. That didn't make the conversation any less boring.

At least the commotion in the dining hall brought an end to the history lesson, and replaced it with that happy sight Meadow had been hoping for: foals, about thirty of them, calling out eagerly among themselves as they gathered for food. It was almost too good to be true.

The foals settled down as Crimson called out softly, drawing their attention. "Listen up, please. We have a new addition to our little home." Many curious eyes looked at Meadow as she continued the introduction. "This is Meadow Song. She's had a very rough couple of days, so I hope you'll all be generous in welcoming her."

Leaning over, Crimson gave her a gentle, encouraging nudge. "Go on, dear. They're a friendly bunch."

Finally, the chance to do what she had come here for. A bunch of orphans, each of them surely with their own tragic history, each of them ripe and ready for her to win over. Only one obstacle stood in her way.

I have no idea what I'm doing.

Okay, that wasn't quite true. She had trained extensively for this, after all. Training, however, was a far cry from actual experience. It was one thing to know the principles of how one could manipulate others, the theory behind using deception and their own emotions against them. How to actually do so was something very, very different. Anxiety built quickly as she approached.

She had always considered herself to be in the same vein as Ceymi. When she imagined going out on the hunt, she had pictured herself being cunning and clever, an expert at deceit, able to look down on these lesser creatures with a callous contempt while putting on a completely convincing face of friendship. In daydreams of life as an infiltrator, she was perfection. She certainly pictured something more clever than anxiously creeping up to a group of foals and offering a nervous "Hello?"

Good one. Real smooth. Expert Infiltrator tactics, there.

Fortunately, it seemed the fumbling introduction was sufficient. The nearest several returned the greeting rather more warmly than she had offered it, and a couple of them slid to the side, offering her a seat on the long bench beside the table. Most of the other foals were sitting at the table as well, so she assumed it was the proper thing to do. Hopefully, she'd find out why before her cluelessness became too obvious.

She sat, taking her place between a curious brown pegasus and an excited pink unicorn, the latter of which took the opportunity to greet her more personally. "Hi, I'm Cotton Candy, good to meet you!"

She extended a hoof to Meadow. Meadow blinked as she looked at it, while her mind backtracked to the short visit to the sweets shop a few days ago. Isn't cotton candy a food? Someone named her after a food? Amusement came quickly enough. Well, I guess she is, after all, Meadow thought, trying to mask the sudden urge to laugh with a friendly smile and a shake of the offered hoof. Thank goodness she had seen that strange greeting ritual on display over the past couple days, she didn't care to find out how awkward it would have been otherwise.

Cotton Candy shook her hoof energetically, grinning happily. "You had good timing, too. Just in time for dinner! Full Kettle said he was going to make something special. Something with a bunch of pasta and veggies and a fancy name, but I can't remember." Meadow just nodded, far less interested in the vague description of physical food while she was enjoying the delicious tingle of emotion coming from the happy filly. They had just met, and already affection was flowing, if faintly.

"As long as it's not that chili again," a grey pegasus colt on the other side of the table said. "I couldn't taste anything for half a week after that!"

Cotton scoffed. "Oh, you just can't handle anything with a little spice. It was tasty!"

Soon Cotton and the colt, Thunder Chaser--Meadow thought that was a rather pompous name for such a young colt--were debating over which foods were best, while Meadow was able to sit back and listen in. Eventually Cotton turned to her.

"So what do you think? Are roasted daffodil sandwiches better than leek-and-potato stew? Oh, wait, maybe you've got something even better?"

"Erm." Meadow glanced between the two of them. She knew more about food from their little conversation than any prior experience of her own. "I... I dunno. I spent a lot of time out in the woods, so I didn't get much in the way of fancy food. Usually, I'd just eat something simple, like... grass?"

Thunder Chaser's ears folded back, his expression--and feelings--suddenly very sympathetic. Cotton, however, seemed encouraged by this. "Oh boy, you're going to love this! Kettle's an amazing cook. Oh, and here it comes!"

Several large bowls and platters of food were set out, with everypony taking large servings and placing them on their own plates. Conversation was spotty after this, as most mouths were soon filled with food, and Meadow had to admit, it was very tasty. The "pasta" was a strange taste and texture, but after a few tentative bites, she had decided she liked it.

Overall, not a bad welcome. Maybe this was going to work out well after all.

After the main course was a dessert, vanilla ice cream with chocolate sauce. She took one curious taste. Her eyes went wide at the amazingly delicious taste, and she quickly dug into the treat.

About twenty seconds later, she was holding her head tightly in her hooves, as if the pressure could relieve the pounding she felt. Several of the foals around her were giggling, compounding her sudden headache with the fear that she had done something horribly wrong. Did I miss something normal ponies should know? Is this something that doesn't happen to ponies? Do they all think I'm some weird freak now?

Before her thoughts could go too far into panic, Cotton managed to break free of her giggling long enough to speak out. "Easy, there! You can't just gobble it all down like that. Guess you never got ice cream out in the woods?"

Meadow managed a weak smile, grasping at the offered excuse. "Oh, hehe. Yeah."

Once the headache receded, she once again engaged her dessert, although much more wary of the enticing yet secretly dangerous food.

Soon dinner was over, and the crowd of ponies began to leave. Meadow followed along, watching the other foals as they went. She had to figure out how to best fit in with them, and quick.

It seemed much of the lower level, particularly the main hall and the nearby rooms, was a common space. Right now the young ponies were mostly spreading out, separating into smaller groups. Meadow looked around. Almost all of the ponies were grouped up with others. Some were in large groups, others were in pairs. All were chatting, or playing games, or engaged in other activities.

Now it was a matter of working her way into one of those groups. But how? And, just as importantly, which one? Pony society was still a relative unknown, after all. She could always try hanging out with Cotton Candy. That filly had been so friendly and welcoming that Meadow was sure she could ingratiate herself with her, but at the same time, Cotton only had a couple other fillies with her. It might make do to befriend only a small group like that, but Meadow didn't want to limit her options just yet. A larger group would give her so much more to work with, and the loving energy she could draw from a larger number of foals...

It wasn't like she needed the emotional energy from that many sources just to survive. A changeling needed fairly little just for that. Even a single friendship might be enough, although it might not be very satisfying. Nothing quite compared to the sensation of being filled with love. It made one feel stronger, faster, more focused. Magic came easier and more powerfully, and so many had stated that nymphs that received an abundance of love would grow up healthier and stronger. Sure, she could probably make do just fine drawing from Crimson Heart's sympathy, and encouraging a friendship with Cotton Candy, but she wasn't going to settle for just "making do," not when such a grand opportunity was presenting itself.

Filing Cotton away as a fall-back, she stepped back and watched the crowd.

Not the individuals of the crowd, so much, but the crowd itself. Groups forming here and there, the flow of members moving about, the interactions between them. It was easy enough to remove any perception of conscious thought and individuality, to view them as little more than a herd of dumb animals. The cultures might be vastly different, but at such a basic level, everything seemed so familiar, the same social dynamics that any large group of social creatures share.

There.

Of all the groups, one particular group stood out as the top of the hierarchy. It was not a sizable group, but it drew the deference of the others, and inside the group was an equally clear hierarchy: A few peripheral hangers-on looking for popularity by association, two more who seemed to be more permanent members, and the one pony at the core of it all.

That's my target.

It was an earth pony colt, somewhat older than most of the other foals. He was a bit bigger than average, strongly-built and heavy-hooved, but he still looked fit, with a smooth, white coat, silver-gray mane, and blue eyes. Meadow supposed he might look quite attractive by pony standards. By changeling standards, he was far too thick and bulky in his proportions, and that wasn't even counting that fur-covered fleshy hide. In any case, not only did he seem visually distinctive, he directed the course of conversation and activity. If there was anyone to deal with in order to gain as much attention and popularity as possible, it was him.

Then again, the thought of having the attention of so many ponies was a bit daunting at the moment. Is this really a good idea? Should I start off slower, smaller? I don't know what I'm doing, what if I screw up? The more eyes on me, the worse a mistake will be, and... and...

She shook her head. No. I might be new, but I'm well-trained. I might not know what I'm doing, but I can improvise enough to fool a bunch of idiotic and naive foals. Even if I do screw up, it's unlikely these trusting ponies will assume the worst of me... and even if they do, I can always escape these foals.

With wavering determination and a faint hesitation to her steps, she approached the colt at the center of the group.

They were laughing about something as she approached, and she paused, letting the laughter die down most of the way before taking the final step in and offering a slightly hesitant greeting. "Hello. My name is Meadow Song."

The colt in question was still grinning from the laughter, though the expression faded as he looked at her. "Uh, yeah. I remember." A few of the others chuckled a bit at this.

She nearly winced at the dry, disapproving tone, and the faint sensation of disdain. The response was a familiar one, the same kind she would have expected for having addressed one of the princesses in such a clumsy and disrespectful manner... or the queen. She quickly changed gears, hoping to undo what damage she might have caused.

"I could see that you appear to be a very important... pony." She stumbled a bit over the word, fortunately remembering in time to substitute "changeling" with "pony." "I just wanted to come over and pay my respects." She bowed her head a bit.

This seemed to mollify the colt, the sensation of disdain vanishing, but he seemed no more approving. Actually, he almost seemed confused, or perhaps surprised. Was that too formal? Maybe I worded it wrong. Eventually, he spoke. "Uh-huh. Well, I guess you got the ‘important’ part right."

"I could tell. I hope you don't find me rude for approaching you to say so, but you seemed to be the most interesting pony here, and I thought it would be best to make introductions."

Amusement. Why did that bring out amusement? Okay, keep it cool... Surely enough, a couple of the other ponies were snickering quietly, and the white colt was smirking, barely holding back his own chuckles. "Wow. Did you get kicked out of a noble house or something?"

She frowned for a moment, then quickly wiped the expression away. "No. My mother simply taught me to always show respect to those of higher station."

"Uh-huh. So did she kick you out for being too formal, or did you just 'polite' her to death?"

"No, a manticore killed her two nights ago."

She had thought for a moment that, if they were going to treat death so casually, then it would be best to follow suit. The surprised reactions her matter-of-fact statement had drawn, however, made her suddenly question her logic.

"Right," the colt said, with a sarcastic tone. "A manticore. I'm sure."

She blinked, surprised at the response. "I saw it myself."

He fixed her with a suspicious glare, disbelief clear in his emotions. "You saw a manticore?" he asked flatly.

"Actually, I saw three of them."

"Three. You saw three manticores. So why didn't one of them chase you down while the others were chewing on your mom?"

She did wince at that, and she fought down the anger that threatened to rise up. "Because she killed them before they could. Well, the two... guardians we had with us killed one before the manticores got them. Then she blasted one apart before impaling the other on her horn." She hesitated a moment, ears drooping at the memory. "...but it caught her with its tail. Poison..."

He stared at her for several seconds, disbelief slowly fading away. "...huh. So what were you doing, then?"

Her ears shot up, cheeks flushing as the anger built. "I was trying to help. I tried to shoot it with my magic, but I missed, and then they were in too close--"

"Wait, you can shoot magic?"

"Of course I can," she said quickly, and instantly a panicked thought ran through her head. He was surprised by that! Why was he surprised by that? Can ponies not do that?

Her fears were only partially alleviated when he grinned thoughtfully. "Well, well. That could be useful..."

After a moment of contemplation, he looked back to her, his expression smiling and friendly, and a complete lie. Oh, he was interested, but there was no affection coming from him. Still, "interest" was a step forward. He extended a hoof. "My name's Big Shot, but everypony calls me Bigs."

"Glad to meet you," she said, raising her hoof to his and giving a gentle shake.

"C'mon, let's find a place to sit and talk."

Meadow smiled. One minute in, and I'm already a part of the group. She had to resist the urge to strut proudly as she followed him. Things were going so well already.

At the rear end of the great main hall were several couches and chairs, and Bigs, followed by Meadow and a few other ponies, approached a pair of couches that were empty, except for a small, charcoal-coated colt, younger than them, who was playing with several odd pieces of metal.

"Move it, geek," Bigs said gruffly. "This is our spot."

The colt glanced up, then looked back to his playthings, face practically hidden by his scruffy orange mane. "I was here first."

"And now I'm here, so beat it." He paused, then smirked. "Oh, are you still trying to build that stupid ‘robot’ of yours?"

The younger colt looked up again, golden eyes narrowed in a glare. "It's not stupid, and I am going to build it!"

The older colts were laughing now, with Bigs laughing the loudest, and most mockingly. "Oh yeah, you're going to make it out of junk you pulled out of the trash. I bet you don't even know what those are!"

Meadow resisted the urge to roll her eyes. This was so familiar. Nice to know that, even among such strange creatures as ponies, some things never changed. The stronger showed their dominance over the weaker, giving them a sense of power, and neatly dividing the population into tiers of importance--possibly more tiers than the fairly straightforward and sensible arrangement of a changeling hive, but still similar enough in concept. Everypony had their proper place, and everypony--

Her thoughts ground to a halt as she scanned over that "everypony" elsewhere in the room. Some had looked away when they caught her looking in their direction, but the expressions of disgust were plain to see... and feel. A chill went through her as the wisps of contempt crept out, most of it distant and foggy, aimed likely at Bigs, but some of it was focused distinctly on herself.

Oh, no.

No, no, no. Oh, I've made a mistake.

She tried to keep her expression neutral while her mind raced. Oh, of course these soft little ponies would see things differently. If they're normally all so nice and gentle, of course they'd see the simple act of showing dominance as unacceptably rude. Not just for themselves, even. They're feeling protective of this little colt because...because he's weaker? So they show Bigs respect because he's stronger, but they dislike him, and if I'm associated with him...

I have to fix this.

Even if that means doing something drastic.

Bigs was laughing after another comment, the younger colt on the verge of tears, when Meadow spoke out. "That's rather rude."

Bigs was still laughing softly. "Heh. What?"

She scowled. "I said, that's rather rude, don't you think?"

He hesitated a moment, then snorted out a chuckle. "No, I think it's funny. The dweeb thinks he's going to make some fancy machine out of a broken fan motor and a pair of metal rods."

Meadow pictured Ceymi, channeling every memory into a contemptuous glare, her words thick with disdain. "At least he is trying to do something constructive and creative, rather than prancing about and puffing himself up in an attempt to pretend he's important."

The shocked silence that greeted her was beautiful. Bigs simply stared for a moment, eyes wide. Bullseye. Even many of the foals who were simply nearby had gone silent, abruptly focused on the exchange. A moment later, Bigs's eyes narrowed. A fury kindled with alarming speed inside him. It was so easy. Obviously, he was not used to being spoken to in such a manner. He stepped in, voice lowering into a tight growl. "What was that?"

"Oh, I'm sure you heard correctly," Meadow said. "And to think, I thought you might be someone interesting and important. But no, you're nothing more than a common, simple-minded thug, so pathetic that you have to belittle somepony else just to distract everypony from the fact that you have no worth of your own."

The anger, already intense, was threatening to boil over. Bigs bared his teeth, raising a hoof to point right in Meadow's face. "You better watch it, little filly."

Meadow tilted her head to the side, her gaze lowering to the hoof with a bored look. She didn't back up an inch, however, and the contempt in her voice grew. "Are you planning on doing anything with that, or are you just going to stand there all day like an idiot?"

Bigs drew his hoof back, casting a quick glance back... then set it down with a resounding clop, apparently thinking better of doing something more violent with so many ponies around. "Enough of this. I'll be seeing you soon." He snorted as he turned and walked away, the other ponies of his little group following along behind him.

Meadow's lips curled back, baring her teeth in a savage grin. "I'm looking forward to it."

The pony said nothing else as he and his followers left. Meadow smiled triumphantly, head raised. A nearly regal pose, one she imagined as a copy of Ceymi's grace. She stood there silently, enjoying her little victory.

...And at least partially because her heart was pounding hard enough that it felt as if it might break her ribs at any moment. She had so much adrenaline going through her body that it took all her effort to keep from jittering about. She wasn't sure she could walk straight. Run like a raving hyperactive maniac, sure, but not walk.

She had nearly ruined her reputation within half an hour of being introduced, drawn everypony's focus upon herself in the most dramatic manner possible, taken a very risky position that could easily backfire on her and even if successful would earn her a dedicated enemy, and had nearly gotten herself beaten. Oh, she was sure she could take him in a full-on fight, and in her natural form, but her options were limited here.

"Wow!" came a sudden voice from right behind her, and it took every ounce of willpower to avoid either screaming and leaping away, or pummeling the source of the startling sound into dust. Instead, she managed to suppress the urge to a little twitch, and a quick glance back.

It was Cotton Candy, wearing an expression of gleeful awe and, to Meadow's surprise, holding a somewhat stronger feeling of affection for her. A quick glance around showed the mood rather improved, and while only a few caught her gaze, almost all of them had a faint tingle of respect and happiness.

"That was... wow," Cotton repeated. "I've never seen anyone stand up to Bigs like that. I've never seen Bigs so angry!" She leaped forward and embraced Meadow in a tight hug--a squishy, fleshy embrace that squeezed Meadow's stupidly-soft body in ways that no proper body should ever flex. She fought down the suddenly returning inclination toward pummeling. Why do these stupid ponies have to be so grabby?

She extracted herself from the hug as quickly as she could politely do so. "Er, yes, well... I just can't stand thugs like that."

Cotton flopped back on the couch, giggling. "Oh, man, everypony's going to be talking about that for days."

With a reluctant sigh, Meadow murmured, "I hope that's a good thing."

"Oh, he'll be pretty angry," Cotton said, happily. "But there isn't much he can do about it, now is there?"

Meadow shrugged a little and sat as well, trying to think through everything. She probably saved her reputation from being destroyed, and if she was lucky, the talk for the next few days might put her in higher standing. She had made an enemy in the process, one with a few followers, but a few foals out of so many was hardly of consequence. Considering their reputation, she might even be able to get some use out of such a rivalry.

A fidgeting movement drew her attention to the dark-gray colt sitting nearby, who had scooted in closer. "Um, hey," he said, quietly. "Thanks. For, you know..." He sniffed a little, quickly wiping at an eye, and then pretending he hadn't needed to.

She hesitated a moment, not quite sure what to do, but quickly settled on smiling sympathetically and nodding. "You're welcome."

He smiled a little, nervously, but it quickly faded. "I just hope you don't get in trouble for it."

"Don't worry about it," Meadow said. "I can handle some simple-minded thug like him, and I'm not going to just stand by and watch him picking on other ponies just because he's bigger than them."

The young colt smiled again, and Meadow smiled a bit more in return--though more from the pleasant taste of affection that was now coming from the colt.

"So, is he like that a lot?"

"Oh, usually," Cotton said. "He's always been a jerk. Him and his stupid crony friends all think they can run the place, and since they're all the biggest and strongest, they pretty much get away with it. Nopony wants to cause trouble, you know."

Meadow frowned. "So if he's such a problem, why do Crimson Heart and the others let him get away with it? They're all bigger and stronger than him."

Cotton grumbled. "Oh, because if anyone complains, he just lies, says they're making it up, or pretends like it wasn't as bad as the other pony says, and other stupid stuff like that. He's such a brown-noser that they buy it."

"...Brown-noser?"

The young colt broke in. "It means he's spent so much time with his snout wedged between somepony's flanks that his snout has gotten all brown."

Cotton busted out laughing, while Meadow recoiled, eyes wide. "That's disgusting!" she blurted. What is wrong with these ponies? Why would somepony do that?

After several moments, Cotton managed to get her laughter under control enough to speak again. "Ehehe! It's not really what he did. Hehe... It's a figure, uh... figurative... thing... heh. It just means he's a suck-up!"

"Oh," Meadow replied, ears pinning back in embarrassment. "So... he doesn't actually do that, right?"

Cotton let out a short laugh. "I don't think so. I mean, he might." She made a face, then shook her head, trembling faintly with barely-contained laughter. "Nah, probably not, but it'd be funny!"

"Yeah," the colt said. "He's just a suck-up. He plays all nice to Crimson and the rest, and then they think he's all great and stuff, so when somepony complains about him they don't think he could have done something so bad."

So he understands basic social manipulation. Eh, I've seen better. She smiled, considering that a moment, before her thoughts returned to the ponies beside her. "So, anyway. What's your name? And what's, erm...?" She gestured to the strange metal things he had been playing with. Nopony else had anything like them.

"Oh!" The colt grinned awkwardly, looking slightly shy, yet happy at the attention. "My name's Spark Wheel!" He clutched the metal pieces and lifted them up. "And I'm making a robot!"

She blinked. "Er... I'm sorry, what's a robot?"

The grin grew broader. "It's a machine, but it's got four legs like a pony, and it can walk around and do stuff!" He set most of the pieces down so he could hold up a single one, which looked like a cylinder trapped inside a few pieces of twisted metal. A rod stuck out of one end, and when he twisted it, the cylinder inside spun. "This is going to be its brain! It spins and tells all the rest of it what to do." He dropped it on the couch, then lifted up the pair of short metal rods. "And these are going to be its legs!" he said, waving them in a vaguely walking manner.

Meadow glanced over to Cotton, who smiled awkwardly and gave the tiniest nod. Play along.

"Well," she said, returning her attention to Spark. "I don't know anything about robots, but I hope you have luck."

"Thanks," he said happily. "Most of the other foals say it's stupid and it'll never work, but I'm sure it will."

Meadow chuckled. "I'm sure. And hey, even if it doesn't, at least you're doing something creative, and that's more than someone like Bigs will ever do."

Reaching out, she patted Sparks on the head, all the while enjoying the rapidly growing emotions radiating from the young colt.

Ah, ponies are so easy.

The start of Meadow's first full day at the Rising Sun Orphanage was perhaps not quite so pleasing as the previous evening.

It started out decently enough, at least. She had gone to bed at the same time as all the other foals, despite how strange she still found it to synchronize everypony's sleep at the same time. The difference between the activity of the day and the silence of night was almost unsettling, without the familiar background noise of the eternally busy hive. She slept soundly and woke feeling refreshed, several hours before everypony else had stirred. She passed part of the time just curled up, enjoying the comfortable bed and the warm covers at first. Eventually she got up, unable to stay still and inactive so long. There was little point in leaving her room, "wake up time" wasn't for well over an hour still, and a quick glance out into the hall showed that not a single pony had stirred. They must really like their sleep.

So instead she had passed the time contemplating her situation. At first she paced as she thought, then, in a desire to do something more useful, turned to exercise. If she was going to be here for an hour with nothing to do, she might as well make it a productive time, and exercise was a familiar habit, ingrained by training.

Eventually, the ponies decided it was properly morning, and time to rise. Soon all the foals were filing off to breakfast, many of them still looking groggy from sleep. Meadow couldn't help a smug grin of satisfaction as she trotted along, bright and energetic. She had taken less sleep and woken more energetic than almost any of these ponies. More proof of just how superior we are to these ponies.

Breakfast was enjoyable, if not quite as delicious as the previous day's. A very shy Spark Wheel had wandered over to her and nervously asked if he could sit next to her, and had been overjoyed when she smiled in a most convincing manner and scooted over to make room for him, though he remained silent throughout the meal. Strange that it should be such a big deal, but pony social dynamics were still a mystery. Fortunately, no sense of disapproval came to her senses, so it was clear she wasn't committing some social faux pas. Yet one more curiosity to file away for later.

After breakfast, however, was not quite as much fun.

First was the visit to Gentle Heart. Meadow wasn't sure what to expect from a "counselor," but it seemed to be mostly asking about her recent past, and in particular, the night of the attack. The mare was obviously concerned for her, her sympathy every bit as strong as Crimson's--one of many similarities the two shared. She hadn't seemed any less concerned when Meadow had talked about it as calmly as she could. Meadow's eyes watered when she came to that moment, but she stifled the painful emotion behind a mask of calm. The talk had ended with Gentle Heart giving her a long, firm hug, saying that if there were ever anything she ever wanted to talk about, anything at all, she would be there to listen.

It took all of her training to play calm and cool at that. Seriously, what is with these ponies and their hugs? Ugh!

After that was a quick visit to Dawn Glimmer, the orphanage's teacher. They had to figure out how much Meadow knew, so they knew where to start on teaching her. Meadow had entered the meeting with a confident grin.

She had emerged gritting her teeth, desperately resisting the urge to set something on fire with her magic.

While the meeting with Gentle Heart had seemed bad enough, at least it was only some personal discomfort. This, however, was an insult toward her professional ability! Walking down the hall, she brought up the paper Dawn had written up, eyes scanning across the text, and not even trying to hide her angry glare.

Said paper had a list of categories for education, seven in all if one included the optional "magic" for unicorns or "flight" for pegasi, with each given a "grade" that showed the level of knowledge she had acquired. For her age, the expected grading was a "6" in each category.

Most of hers were given a “1,” and she had a feeling this was only because the scale could not go any lower. At least that made sense for most categories, like history.

She had two sixes. Magic and math. Magic and math! At least she felt some satisfaction for being judged "competent" at magic, despite her limited practice. But math? So she could count, and add, and multiply, but so what?

And why is math higher than language?

That burned her. Language and its use had been the focus of her training for so long now. It was her weapon, her armor. It was everything she worked toward. Her glare focused on that "1," which simply sat there, taunting her.

It was an injustice. Dawn had even been impressed by her eloquence and vocabulary--partially because she could actually make use of words like "eloquence" and "vocabulary" in a normal sentence. Unfortunately, that initial good impression had diminished quickly. She had difficulty reading, was almost entirely incapable of writing, had atrocious spelling, and... and who even knew what the heck the difference was between a verb and an adverb, but apparently she was supposed to. She scoffed. I know how to use words just fine, so who cares if I don't know what they're called?

Though she supposed she could at least take some comfort in the knowledge that she was technically ahead of where she should be, as far as years go. Apparently, ponies develop slower than changelings. Dawn Glimmer had initially guessed her age at thirteen years, which had surprised Meadow. She wasn't sure exactly how long it had been since she had hatched, but it was somewhere around eight years ago. She'd be fully grown before she was thirteen.

Which meant almost all of these ponies were older than her. Not that she would have ever guessed it.

Her thoughts came to a crashing halt as she spotted Bigs sitting there, looking right at her. On either side were a pair of friends, two that were always by his side, according to Cotton Candy: Boulder, a brown earth pony colt who's stature didn't yet match his name, and yellow pegasus filly named Cloud Burst. Meadow quickly looked away from them, forcing her expression neutral, but he was already grinning in amusement. He seemed happy to see her unhappy. She grumbled and walked off, trying to avoid thinking of him too much.

Except now he was walking up to her. Ugh. I'll have to deal with him eventually, I suppose.

She sighed, turning to face him with a look of bored contempt. "And what do you--"

Bigs cut her off as he snatched the note from her magic. "So what do you got there?"

Just as he was turning it to read over the note, her horn flared, incinerating the paper in a flash of green. Bigs jerked back in surprise, the note reduced to fine ash in an instant. "H-hey!" he said, loudly. "You can't be setting fires in here!"

She grinned defiantly. "And you are in no position to tell me--"

"What was that about fire?" They both looked back to see the concerned face of Crimson Heart peering out from a doorway. She took a sniff, eyes widening as she stepped into the hall, quickly looking around. "Why do I smell smoke? What's on fire?!"

Bigs thumped a hoof against the floor, near the largest accumulation of ash. "Meadow was burning some paper," he said, a sensation of vengeful satisfaction emanating from him.

Meadow blinked, anger rising. "He was taking it from me, and I... was just trying to get it back, and I... I accidentally set it on fire, instead."

Crimson looked at the ashes, blinked, and sighed. "Meadow, you really need to be more careful with your magic. There are dozens of foals living here, and we can't have a fire going out of control here. Please, be more careful?"

It was a complete mockery of justice, but there wasn't anything she could do but play along. Her ears drooped, her head lowering, as she tried to play as repentant as possible. "I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

The mare nodded, then looked over to Bigs. "And why were you taking her paper, anyway?"

"I'm sorry," he said, his ears drooping as well. "I just wanted to see why she was so upset. I didn't mean to make it worse."

Meadow glared murderously at the colt. Oh, he thinks he's so clever, does he? He has no idea what he's getting himself into...

Meanwhile, Crimson Heart was sighing. "I'm sure you meant well, Big Shot, but you should really ask before doing something like that.

"I'm sorry," he said, while his emotions made a complete mockery of his words.

With a smile, Crimson gestured back toward the main hall. "Well, you children go back and play. And please, try not to burn anything down?" She offered a little chuckle, hoping to ease the mood, before turning to head back into her room.

A smug smile spread across Bigs's face as he turned and walked off with his friends, leaving Meadow behind to glare after him. Finally she snorted in annoyance and walked away, trying to calm down and ignore the faint pressure building in the back of her head.

The days were fairly carefree, in general. The foals spent much of the time doing whatever they liked, which generally meant milling about, talking about whatever inane topic came to mind, and playing pointless, if at least somewhat entertaining games. It was an easy time, letting Meadow mingle freely. Most of the foals were very free with their friendship, very happy to make a new friend, even though "acquaintance" might be a better term. Still, it was something for Meadow to work with. Friendly familiarity was a starting point, one she could build on in time.

When classes started, new opportunities arose. Most obviously, it was informative. They seemed to have no problem with her not understanding anything about Equestrian history, or government, or "social sciences," or any of the other topics, and were going to teach her everything. It was a treasure trove of information, all ready to be presented to her. As an Infiltrator, she couldn't have asked for anything better; her prey was going to tell her everything she needed to know about them.

Granted, the language class was annoying, due to simultaneously teaching new concepts--Who cares what nouns and verbs are? Not me!--while teaching vocabulary she would have found painfully simple at half her age. Math was boring, simply because they took it so slow with obvious concepts. But history? Anything social? Oh, she gobbled that up.

More interestingly, however, it posed a new opportunity to build up affection.

It had been simple enough. Several days into her new classes, she had come across Spark Wheel, his homework spread out before him. He had looked so helpless that the opportunity had been obvious. "Hey, you want any help there?"

He looked up with wide eyes, surprised at the offer for a moment before hope welled up. "You... you want to help?"

"Well sure," she said with a pleasant smile, taking a seat beside him. The next hour was spent looking through his books, helping him find the answers he needed. It galled her to see that he was on more advanced studies than she was in several classes, but finding the information in the books was simple enough. Within a few days they had made regular study partners.

It made it even more ironic when he started helping her with her own studies. She was tempted to be indignant, but he seemed so pleased every time he glanced over her work and found something he could help with, and the affection for her grew every time she thanked him. She even started leaving in one or two minor mistakes for him to catch, easy ones she could correct in the morning if he missed it.

Other ponies, however, seemed to make a very different use of their time.

She was enjoying a delicious breakfast of fruit-covered waffles, yet another new experience in Equestrian cuisine, when the rumor finally worked its way to her. It came from a light-blue unicorn filly that Meadow vaguely recognized as one of the peripheral hangers-on around Bigs, the most hopeless of social positions a pony could be in; distanced from the rest of the foals by their association, leaving them entirely reliant on "proving" themselves to the more exclusive group to have any hope of acceptance. That generally meant being unpleasant enough to those outside the group to amuse those inside it. She was the kind of pony that might resort to kissing Bigs's hooves if she thought it would earn anything but contempt. What was her name? Starshine? Yeah, I think that was it. In any case, she was giving off far too much vengeful amusement to be up to any good.

"So, is it true? Did Lucky Strike really have to change out your bed?"

Meadow blinked at the far-too-amused Starshine's question. "...No."

Starshine was chuckling. "Oh really? Because I heard of your little ‘accident’ last night. Really, Meadow, only little babies wet their bed."

Meadow stared in confusion for a few moments, her mind tracking through the words, looking to reason out a context for the unfamiliar phrase. It took all of five seconds to make the connection.

Most of the foals had apparently expected her to either deny any knowledge of what Starshine was speaking of, or to refute it outright.

It seemed none of them, Starshine included, had expected her to start laughing.

Starshine took a step back, obviously confused by the response. She looked at Meadow, who was enjoying the first good laugh she'd had in such a long time. The laughter quickly turned to a mocking tone as she leaned in toward Starshine. "He's really... he's really going to try that?"

Starshine frowned as the mocking laughter returned. "You're weird," she finally said, and left.

Meadow didn't even care about the words. She could feel too much shared amusement from the foals around her to worry if she was behaving strangely by pony standards. She leaned back against the table, still giggling.

There wasn't any event that could have been mistaken for what she had been accused of. No, someone had, most likely, intentionally started that rumor. And that meant...

Bigs.

Her eyes found him, sitting across the room, oblivious to her gaze. He's really going to try that? she thought, laughter threatening to rise again. He is going to try to wage a war of lies and deception against me. Against an Infiltrator. This wasn't some detached, impersonal conflict. Eager, excited anticipation welled up in her as she eyed him like the hungry predator she was.

I am going to destroy him.

Chapter 5: Monsters

Chapter 5: Monsters

Revenge started with an apple.

That part was easy enough. Meadow simply swiped it from the table at dinner, snuck it out, and stashed it in her room. Nopony seemed to notice.

She lay in bed that night, eyes closed, ears perked. Fifteen minutes after "bed time," her eyes opened, glancing quickly around the room, then to the door. There was no movement. She was alone.

Silently, she slipped off the covers, creeping over to the door, every movement careful to avoid making any sound. She locked it, and crept her way to the closet. Stepping inside, she quietly shut the door and retrieved the apple from where she had hidden it in her saddlebags. She set it down in the center of the tiny floor, sitting beside it.

Here, nopony could see her. They couldn't see any light she might create. Even if they came into her room, through the locked door, she would have time to hide anything she was doing.

She ducked her head, and her horn lit up with brilliant green magic.

It was complicated magic, of which she had only ever studied the basics; advanced spell-training would have come much later in their studies. She was starting almost blind, forced to piece together the elements of the spell herself from a few bits and pieces. Perfecting this would involve much effort and practice, and that meant that her plan was going to take time.

But then, many of the best things in life do.

Morning led Meadow Song to a new annoyance, one all the more frustrating for having no outside source beyond herself.

She was tired, and her head hurt.

It had only been a couple of hours that she had spent practicing her magic, but she felt as if she had stayed up all night. Her head had been aching after her magical study session, and it had apparently affected her sleep. Even her back felt sore, as if she'd been sleeping on bare rock again. She mentally cursed her current body again for the thought of bare rock as being particularly uncomfortable.

The discomfort and exhaustion made it somewhat more awkward to pretend to be a happy, friendly filly, or to pay attention to her studies, but she endured, if slightly more quiet than usual.

She kept the nighttime studying shorter, which seemed to help the symptoms. It also made her grumble even more at the thought that she might be getting soft. It's been, what, a month? These stupid ponies are going to ruin me.

After a week, she began to worry. Her headache wasn't going away. Neither was the backache. In fact, a faint discomfort had been spreading steadily through her body.

"Are you okay?" Spark asked over the pair of metal disks he was toying with--gears, he had called them--jarring her from her thoughts.

Was I making it that obvious? She stretched, trying to relieve the persistent stiffness in her back. "Eh... I'm just tired," she lied.

Spark looked, and felt, concerned. "Are you sure?"

She gave a little sigh and forced her most convincing smile. "Yeah, I'm sure. I think I just need to get to bed a little earlier tonight."

This seemed to satisfy the young colt, who returned to pretending the gears were giant flying machines, complete with little whooshing noises.

That night, Meadow stepped back into her bedroom with a flat, annoyed expression, leaving behind a closet finely coated in atomized apple. Well, it actually did something this time, she thought wryly, as she looked down at her damp, apple-scented fur. ...so I guess that's progress.

The extra time it had taken to sneak off and take a bath--as well as enjoying the opportunity to lounge there as long as she wanted, with nopony to interrupt--had cut into her planned sleep time, leaving her feeling a little more muddled than usual. What is wrong with me? she mentally grumbled to herself. I should feel more rested than this with half the sleep I've been getting.

Despite the exhaustion, she was pretty sure she would have been confused by the concept of a holiday celebration even if she had been well-rested.

"What is Nightmare Night?" she asked, head cocked slightly to the side. Her head hurt too much to even worry if this was a strange question for a pony to ask, but Dawn Glimmer never seemed to think any of her questions were strange. In fact, the teacher seemed to absolutely love them.

Dawn smiled. "That's right, I suppose not every place celebrates the traditional Equestrian holidays." The what now? "Nightmare Night started long ago, because of an ancient mare of darkness, Nightmare Moon. She was a creature of darkness who, angry at the ponies who shunned her night, tried to bring eternal darkness over the world. She held the moon high in the sky, and kept the sun from rising.

"Fortunately, despite the terrible power Nightmare Moon wielded, our Princess Celestia was able to defeat her and imprisoned her in the moon, where you can still see her." She lifted a hoof to point to one of the new posters on the wall, showing a diagram of the moon. Meadow supposed the dark patch did somewhat look like a unicorn's head, if a bit stylized. Something was strange, though. Dawn was grinning slyly, looking around the small class. "But once, every year, she is able to reach her power out beyond her prison, and she stalks through the night, looking for unwary foals to feast upon."

Meadow's ears perked up, and she stared in surprise at Dawn Glimmer. And ponies... celebrate this? She looked around the class. A few foals seemed bored, but most seemed happy, even excited. Maybe it was the headache or the lack of sleep, but... These ponies are starting to really creep me out.

Dawn continued on. "So on that night, all the little colts and fillies dress up in costumes, so that Nightmare Moon won't recognize them. But she's a hungry hunter, so all the children gather up candy and give some of it up in an offering, to sate her hunger for another year!"

Wait, what?

"So now it has become a great celebration, with lots of games, and the adults help by giving out candy to all the children. It's a wonderful, fun, spooky night!"

Meadow's ears dropped flat as the realization finally clicked. Right. Ponies. "How much of that is true?" she asked, dryly.

"Oh, Nightmare Moon is absolutely real," Dawn said, serious for a moment before her mischievous grin returned. "As for the rest? Oh, some ponies say it's just an old mare's tale, that Nightmare Moon doesn't really come down to hunt, but... well, let's just say I wouldn't want to be caught without a disguise on Nightmare Night if they're wrong..."

Before Meadow could come up with another question, Dawn segued into a new topic. "Which brings us to the matter of costumes. We'll want to make sure every one of you has one, so that's exactly what we're going to be doing the next couple weeks!"

That had effectively ended any real class-work for the day, as all the foals started making plans, each eager to make their costume the best. Meadow tried to display something approaching the enthusiasm the rest of the class showed, but the frustration of interrupting their real studies--something that could potentially save her life in the future--made that somewhat difficult. As a result, she ended up sitting quietly at the edge of the group.

Spark eventually approached her, apparently the only pony in the room that shared her lack of enthusiasm. "So," he offered, awkwardly. "Um... do you know what you're going as?"

Her ears folded back again. Now is when her mind should be racing through the other foals' discussions in order to guess what would make a good costume, but her headache derailed her train of thought. "Er... I'm not sure. Maybe... a giant bug?"

She felt the sudden urge to slap herself for saying something so stupid. Instead, she just imagined a disapproving scowl from Ceymi. Disguise as a bug. Is that supposed to be a joke, or is that really the best you can come up with?

Spark Wheel actually smiled a little at it, however. "Heh, yeah. Maybe you could go as a ladybug. Or maybe a bumblebee?"

Urgh. Of course a pony would pick the most colorful insects. "...Maybe a wasp?" she said, reluctantly. Judging by Spark's smile, it was an appropriate costume. "I guess that could work." About as uncreative as I could get, short of making a changeling disguise. There must be some sort of deranged irony to a changeling disguising as a pony disguising as a bug. "What about you?" she asked with a polite smile, trying to distract herself from the bitter self-recrimination.

"Oh," he said, frowning a bit. "I dunno."

Spark felt faintly of sadness and unease, while the silence drew out for several moments. Several long, awkward moments, while her headache seemed to grow worse. Meadow fought not to scowl. Drawing emotional energy could give relief to many ailments, and Spark was normally an excellent source, but it seemed he was too distracted by his own unhappiness to offer any feelings of affection at the moment.

"Well... maybe you could go as your robot?" She offered, hoping to stir his interest. "I'd kind of like to see what it's going to look like."

Spark's eyes widened a bit as he looked up to her, wisps of hope teasing at her senses. "Y-yeah? You think so?"

She smiled warmly. "Of course," she said, drawing in a relieving taste of happiness from the young colt. Her headache receded just a tiny bit, still very much there, but slightly gentler.

All the talk that day was about Nightmare Night and costumes, with most of the fillies being very excited. Cotton Candy was torn between going as a wolf-pony or as literal cotton candy, of which Meadow recommended the former. The latter threatened to make her head hurt even worse, despite the idea of her dressing up as food being amusingly ironic. Then a unicorn filly named Limelight declared that she wanting to dress up as Princess Celestia, which lead to Thunder Chaser deciding that he was going to go as her royal guard.

"Wait a minute," Meadow said, looking at them in confusion. "How is disguising as another pony supposed to keep Nightmare Moon from knowing that you're, well, a pony?"

Thunder Chaser just shrugged. "Oh, as long as we look like a different pony, we'll be safe."

It took physical effort to not roll her eyes. Right. Because it's not real, and even they know it.

She did at least sigh in near-silent protest, though that brought out a frown. Why does my chest feel... funny?

She didn't even bother staying up to practice her magic, and even with the extra hours to sleep, she was barely able to drag herself out of bed. Her whole body ached, every joint and every muscle, and it was getting worse.

The worst, however, was yet to come.

Her and Spark's study sessions were now mostly taken up by working on costumes. She was levitating a small bundle of wooden rods that would become the frame of her costume when she lurched, her magic blinked out, and the bundle clattered to the floor.

Spark leaped in, hooves blocking off the rods before they could scatter too wildly, and looked to her. Her eyes were wide in terror, her breathing short and fast.

Her disguise had almost failed.

A moment later she put on a mask of calm, though it was hardly convincing. "I'm... sorry. I think I might have overdone it with my magic," she lied.

She was gentler with the magic, but she could still feel it; every time she levitated something, every time her concentration wavered from her form, her disguise tried to fall. Her mind fearfully raced, confused. This shouldn't be happening! A disguise didn't take concentration to hold. It endured even through sleep. Now, though... now it was more like she was trying to hold back a transformation in progress.

And it was getting worse.

What's wrong with me?

By dinner, she felt almost delirious. Her transformation was trying to revert even while she wasn't using magic, requiring more and more concentration to hold at bay, and her head pounded so hard she could hardly follow the conversation around her. She struggled to hold herself steady as she ate half-heartedly, head down, eyes darting fearfully over the foals gathered around. Something was terribly wrong with her, and... and she had to get away from them. She had to hide. Trembling and weak, she slipped away from the table, walking unsteadily away. Exhaustion was starting to overtake her even before she left the room.

She quickened the pace; a trot, a canter, finally a full gallop, hurrying to her room, her horn occasionally flickering with green flame as she fought with all her strength to maintain her form just a few moments longer. She tripped, staggered, and forced herself on. She turned the corner and could see the door to her room. Fifty feet. Thirty. Ten.

She slammed the door behind her, fumbling to lock it, then staggered to the closet. Her head swam, her shallow panting coming quick and desperate after the gallop. The closet door shut, and she collapsed to the floor, letting her disguise fall.

Flames flickered, leaving Nictis laying there, undisguised and exposed; he was himself again, the natural form he hadn't taken since that terrible night.

And it felt like his body was tearing itself apart.

After a split instant of terrible pressure, a painful sensation ripped through him as the back of his carapace tore open.

Nictis gasped in shock--and suddenly, he could breathe. Frantically, he wriggled and squirmed, shifting back and forth, limbs scrambling, as inch by inch the pressure and aching receded.

A minute later, he lay sprawled out and panting beside his shed skin. He lifted a trembling limb, looking at the fresh, semi-translucent carapace. It was a molt. This whole time, it was a molt. He let the limb drop again, too worn out to do anything but lay there. The pain was gone, just a residual ache rumbling about in the back of his head. He'd never had a molting go like that, but of course, he'd never been shapeshifted when it had come time to molt. How long had I been needing to do that? Weeks? I'll... I'll need to keep better track of that...

For now, he just lay there, lost in a fog of exhaustion. He heard the soft knocking at the outer door, vaguely recognizing Spark's voice through the haze, before eventually falling into a deep and dreamless sleep.

"Sorry, I just... well, I think something I ate didn't agree with me." Meadow put on an embarrassed face, an act that she found so much easier now that the aching pain was gone.

Whether the faked embarrassment helped sell the story, or whether Spark was simply happy at seeing her improved condition, he accepted the excuse. "I'm glad you're feeling better, then," he said with a smile.

It was a relief to get back to normal. She had, of course, carefully incinerated the molted carapace, considering the risk of setting a fire indoors to be much less than the risk of somepony finding... that. Fortunately, it had gone off without a hitch, and the fine ash had been easy to dispose of.

Unfortunately, the return to normal also came with the realization that her social standing had suffered. Big Shot had not been sitting idle during the period, as she soon discovered. No, he took full advantage of her poor state, while she was too impaired to do much about it. She vaguely remembered him offering some simple insults, something about her being an idiot or something of that sort, and she only now realized that her distracted, grunted replies hadn't helped her situation. In fact, it seemed most of the foals had some degree of discomfort toward her; Bigs had established her nicely as an irritable freak.

Which I suppose is true, in a manner of speaking, but I should be better at hiding it.

With her mind sharp again, however, she was more than capable of fighting back.

Not all the ponies had entirely bought into Bigs's words. Spark was adamantly affectionate toward her, the only real friend that he had. Cotton Candy was just too friendly to not like anyone, Meadow thought. On top of that, both of them disliked Bigs enough to discount anything he claimed. She certainly wasn't in any risk of starving just yet.

There were a few others that were fairly neutral, which might be good opportunities. Yes, she could work with this. She was back in control. Her head was clear, her sleep better. Everything seemed a little more focused, and she felt so much more energetic. Not having your transformed innards crushed by a too-small exoskeleton was unsurprisingly invigorating. Now it was time to get to work, to find a way to ingratiate herself with all these ponies.

Fortunately, she already had the perfect opportunity presented to her, with all the foals working on their costumes. After all, both Spark's costume and her own were coming along swiftly, between her magic and his surprisingly deft ability to assemble the parts. She had time to spare.

A few words with Dawn Glimmer after class got her a small book for reference. She studied the image she was interested in for a few minutes before slipping off to join Spark. He was already pulling out the parts for his costume. It was looking impressive so far. He'd even gotten several pieces of sheet metal to make his costume even more authentic. In fact, he seemed to always have parts around...

"So, Spark. Any chance you could dig up some more of those metal pieces for something?"

"You want some help with that?"

Thunder Chaser looked up from the cardboard breastplate he was working on, to see Meadow Song standing there, with a big, friendly smile, and several pieces of shining metal levitating beside her.

"Um... you want to help me?"

She chuckled softly. "Well, yeah. We should make sure Celestia's guard has the all best gear, right? I even saw some gold paint so it'll be the right color!"

"Um... yeah, I guess so," he said, looking over as Meadow set the pieces down beside him. "Wow. There's enough for my whole costume! Where did you get all this?"

She shrugged modestly. "Oh, I'm sure you've noticed how many bits and pieces Spark always has around. He's remarkably good at finding stuff like this that other ponies just throw out."

Thunder Chaser grinned, even offering an appreciative wave to Spark, who nervously returned it.

Though a doubt was quickly rising in his thoughts. "But... I dunno. Wouldn't it be kind of bad to look fancier than Celestia? Limelight and I have been working together on this so we'd match..."

"Hmm, I guess that's a good point," Meadow said, in a sad tone that did not at all mirror her own feelings. "There must be something we could do." She hummed a moment, raising a hoof to her chin as she pretended to think of the plan she had already come up with. "Oh, I know! I can get more, and we can make her costume right, too!"

When Limelight arrived, she found the two sitting there, waiting for her with eager grins and a plan.

The delicious appreciation and happiness made the extra work so very much worth it all.

Let Bigs have his petty, fearful respect. He doesn't know what he's missing.

Feeling more well-rested, she could easily spare a couple hours for practicing her magic. The very first night, she finished with a heap of what more or less resembled applesauce. Very badly burnt applesauce. At least it all came out in one place, so... progress.

During the day, the costumes progressed quickly. Meadow's magic, rather stronger than Limelight's weak levitation, made much of the harder work easier, and Spark surprised all of them by how easily he handled the metal parts. The small and cobbled-together assortment of tools he had acquired--mostly broken junk that he had snatched up and crudely fixed--helped out nicely. It progressed so smoothly that soon Meadow had started helping a couple other foals work on their costumes as well. The trickle of affection was weak but growing. The general opinion of her was slowly rising again. It was working.

"Aren't you going to finish your own costume?" Spark had asked eventually, concerned at how her own costume was very much incomplete.

"Oh, of course," she replied with a weak chuckle and followed up by devoting a little more time to her own costume. Even if it was ridiculously silly, she was not going to present a poor image. Besides, what sort of changeling would I be if I let a pony out-disguise me?

Meanwhile, at night, her attempts at magic progressed as well. Each night, the test-subject apples remained in fewer and larger pieces, with less scorching.

Finally, one night she looked over after the completion of her spell to see an intact apple, completely unmarred by her magic.

She grinned triumphantly, lifting the apple in her magic to take a big, juicy bite out of it.

She was ready.

For all her training and experience in the techniques of disguise and deception, Meadow felt rather ridiculous in her costume.

That wasn't to say it was poorly made. She had poured much of the last day into perfecting it, and if she had to offer her humble opinion, it was the most finely crafted costume of the whole orphanage. She even managed to take advantage of her lean build, making sharp contrasts between the thicker thorax and abdomen, and the thinner waist and limbs. The abdomen and fake insectoid wings--nowhere near as nice as her own, but decent enough for such a basic costume--swayed slightly as she walked. Even the color, despite having a rather garish yellow, was somewhat pleasing; the contrast between black and yellow was striking, almost menacing, enough to temper a small bit of the potential embarrassment.

No, the sense of ridiculousness came from the simple fact that she was not only wearing a primitive disguise instead of her perfect shapeshifting, but that she was wearing it not for the purpose of blending in, but of standing out.

To make it worse, she was doing it for a foal's holiday. For ponies.

She sighed, head drooping a bit in embarrassment while ignoring the wobble of the costume's antennae that the motion produced.

"I think it looks great," Spark offered quietly. Of course, he'd probably say that even if it were hideous, she thought. Still, she could tell he was sincere. Oh, snap out of it already. Enough of this self-pity. I'm a changeling. We endure. She glanced over to him, offering an awkward smile. I'm sure I'll have to do more embarrassing things than this, in service to the hive. This? I can handle this.

She took a deep breath as she pushed her professional embarrassment to the background. Her head rose again, her steps growing sure. Mind calm and clear, free of poisoning emotions, focused on the task ahead of you.

A hint of happiness came from Spark at the apparent improvement in mood, and he followed along, shyly, though rather more loudly than usual. He was clad almost entirely in curved metal plates and a few decorative mechanical parts, and many of these squeaked and clanked with his movements, not to mention the sharp metal clunk that corresponded with each step. He'd spent almost an hour the previous day clomping around in the metal boots, as if fascinated and excited by the sound it made, though today he was back to being shy and quiet again. Oh well, at least he's easily to please. Toss him a couple mechanical parts and he's happy.

The stairs leading down into the main entry hall gave her an excellent view over the small crowd gathering there. Everypony was gathering for the night's activities, and every single one of them was in costume. The lingering echoes of her embarrassment were easily quashed under a professional pride; she was quite certain now that her costume was the most technically competent, aside from perhaps Spark's, although she helped enough to feel justified in claiming credit for that as well.

Of course, her costume probably wouldn't be the most popular, but that hardly mattered. These weird little ponies have such strange values, and most likely would judge the costumes on some bizarre mishmash of cultural mores and simple pony strangeness, which she was still far too inexperienced to fully understand. If she had to guess, though, Limelight's would be the most popular. Meadow was quite proud of that one, too. She was about as close to the image of Celestia as a normal unicorn filly could possibly be. The gold-painted metal might not be quite as good as the real royal regalia, but it was convincing enough, and the little bit of glow-in-the-dark powder they had dyed her fur with had looked quite striking when they had tested it, sure to give her that "radiant" look that ponies always used to describe their Princess.

It also had the potential to draw some popularity just because of who it portrayed. The Queen held a position of respect and admiration in the hive, and judging by the bit of history classes she'd had so far, their Princess was no different to the ponies. Perhaps more of a braggart, though. At least our Queen doesn't have all the nymphs taught all about centuries-old accomplishments.

...Although I really doubt our Queen would be as tolerant of someling disguising themselves as her...

The costumes on display varied greatly, in both quality and style. Some were silly and cheerful, such as whatever Crimson Heart was supposed to be costumed as with that dress. Others seemed much more fitting with the darker mood the description of the celebration's history had suggested, such as Crimson's partner, Lucky Strike, who had what seemed to be a rather convincing costume of a dead, dessicated pony. He kind of spoiled it by shambling around and groaning, while acting goofy for the foals running around him.

And some had barely even tried, Meadow thought. She was both satisfied and vaguely annoyed to see that Bigs and his friends were in that category. His costume was nothing more than a red shirt, with a big "1" emblazoned upon it, and a matching helmet. Cloud Burst was hovering overhead, proudly wearing a costume that was both full-body and incredibly basic at the same time; it was just a simple skin-tight blue outfit that covered everything but her snout, ears, and wings, with a few yellow highlights, and a pair of goggles. At least she put more effort into it than Boulder, who had a sheet with holes poked in it for his eyes. Cotton had said it was supposed to be a ghost, but Meadow thought of it as laziness personified in material form.

A few minutes later, Crimson Heart called out. "Okay, everypony! Now that we're all gathered, it's time to get going. There are going to be all manner of games and activities in the town square, and plenty of ponies giving away candy. Try not to wander off too far, and let's all have a wonderful Nightmare Night!"

The gathered foals cheered, and soon they were funneling out into the early dusk. It was the first time Meadow had been in the town of Mareville since her first arrival, although there wasn't anything stopping her. Several of the other foals would go into town during the day, often visiting and playing with the foals living there, but Meadow hadn't. She already had everything she needed there in the orphanage.

The group began to separate as they entered the town. Some eagerly ran on to join the games in the town square, others wandered off to visit houses in search of candy. The choice seemed pretty easy to Meadow. Most pony games were silly, pointless things, but candy? Candy was good.

"So all we have to do is knock on doors, repeat that little rhyme, and the ponies living there will give us candy?" she asked Spark, who nodded. What a weird custom. "Huh. Well, I think I'm going to go do that. More candy for me!"

Turning from the main street, she wasn't at all surprised to see Spark following along closely, seeming a bit more nervous than usual. All around were the Nightmare Night decorations, ranging from strings of lights, fake spider-webs, and the moon-like symbol of Nightmare Moon, all the way to what looked to be strangely stylized skulls.

They were passing through a small courtyard, lit dimly by a single large street-lamp, currently topped by a giant fake turquoise cat-eye, when a familiar voice called out.

"So that's your robot, huh?"

Meadow turned to glare back at Bigs, his friends walking--or in Cloud Burst's case, flying--beside him. He returned her glare, smirking as he continued on. "And I see you decided to go as an annoying pest. How creative."

Meadow couldn't help but smirk at that, despite the slight sting she felt to the criticism of her work. "You dress up in such simple-minded costumes, and then speak of creativity. It's funny watching you try to be clever, Bigs. Pathetic, but funny."

Spark huddled in closer to her side as Bigs walked closer, anger rising at the taunt, but he was still grinning. "And you think you're so smart, don't you? You think you're so clever? Even the geek there knows better than that. Don't you, Spark?" He shoved a hoof into Spark's side, the metal making a sharp ping as it dented, and Spark let out a squeak, shifting to keep Meadow between him and Bigs.

Meadow's eyes narrowed at Bigs, anger starting to stir in the back of her mind. Spark was not his to mess with. "If you're here for something, Bigs, then get on with it. I'd rather not waste my time with your imbecilic attempts at wit."

"That mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble someday," he said, keeping a thin mask of calm over the growing anger. "After all, it's a long, dark night. Who knows what could happen to a couple ponies out wandering on their own." He shouldered his way past her and continued on, his friends following.

Cloud Burst swooped up and called back at them, tauntingly. "Later, losers!" As she passed over the streetlamp, she lashed out with a hind hoof, knocking the light out and plunging the courtyard into darkness. Spark squeaked louder and huddled up against Meadow's side, while Cloud Burst rejoined Bigs and Boulder. The three of them laughed as they moved on.

Meadow stood there and watched them leave, entertaining herself for the moment with thoughts of vengeance. It would be so satisfying to beat him bloody... Dangerously unsubtle, but satisfying. It took a moment to calm herself, letting out a little sigh. "Come on, Spark. Let's get some candy."

Spark made a faint whimper, stumbling a little as he tried to stay close to her side. It took a moment for her notice that his eyes were wide, his steps hesitant and unsure. At first, she just thought he was having trouble seeing. These stupid pony eyes don't handle the dark well, she noted. Soon, however, she noted the hints of fear coming from him.

"Spark? Are you okay?"

The colt didn't answer right away, instead looking away, his embarrassment rising.

Meadow stopped, reaching up to gently wrap a foreleg around his shoulder, giving an encouraging squeeze. Ponies seemed to like such physical gestures, after all. "Don't worry about Bigs. I'm not going to let him do anything to you."

"It's not Bigs," he replied weakly.

"What is it, then?"

"I..." he fidgeted a little, ears drooping to the side. Meadow nudged him gently, finally prompting him to, very quietly, admit, "It's the dark."

Meadow blinked. "You're afraid of the dark?"

Spark seemed to shrink at the statement, pulling away from her and taking a half-step away, before his anxiety brought him to a halt again. His emotions were a turmoil of shame, fear, even anger. He thinks I'm making fun of him? I mean, I can see why, that's a silly thing to be afraid of, but still...

Silence stretched on for a few moments, until a soft glow caught Spark's attention. Turning back, he looked up to see Meadow's head raised, horn lit with magic that flowed out in a soft, green glow. She slowly looked around the courtyard, admiring the sight. In the dim light, her magic cast a beautiful glow, the area around her lit in colorful green, slowly fading into the shadows, with faint reflections coming from the more distant windows. It was like being back in the hive, in a way, bringing a nostalgic feel to the alien pony architecture. Finally, she lowered her head, giving Spark a soft, encouraging smile.

He hesitated a moment, but then slowly smiled, the affection starting to flow despite his embarrassment. "Thanks."

She nodded, and they started to slowly resume their walk. "I have to admit, I've always liked the night," Meadow said, smiling as she again looked around. "Darkness has always felt like a protective shroud, something that could keep me safe, hidden... but I can certainly see how it might not be as pleasant for others." After all, things like me hide in the dark.

"I must seem pathetic," Spark grumbled. "This is why I never liked Nightmare Night."

Meadow couldn't help but agree; being afraid of the dark did strike her as pretty pathetic. She kept that opinion to herself, however. "You're not pathetic. Everypony is scared of something. Even somepony like Bigs has something they fear."

"Bigs?" Spark asked skeptically. "I've never seen him afraid of anything."

He seemed surprised when Meadow laughed. "Him? Oh, please. He's always afraid."

Spark looked to her questioningly, and she smiled back. "Just look at his behavior. He is the kind to brag and boast about himself over the slightest of things, while putting down anypony who doesn't stroke his ego. He's desperate for attention and recognition, and he'll scheme and bully anyone he can to get it. And do you know why?"

"No?"

She grinned. "Because, deep down, he knows it's all he's got. He's terrified of being nothing, so he lashes out at those around him. He gathers sycophants around him to make himself feel more significant, and tries to tear down anypony that might challenge him. If he can put someone down enough to trod on, he can pretend he isn't so pathetic himself."

Spark grunted faintly, seeming to think on that. "Is there anything you're afraid of?"

Meadow frowned.

I'm afraid of failure. I'm afraid that I'm not good enough to be an Infiltrator. I'm afraid of being discovered. I'm afraid of destroying our secret.

I'm afraid I'll never see the hive again.

"...Yes," she replied, her voice quiet, but sharp.

Spark nodded a little, but didn't inquire further. In silence, they walked on, through the green-tinted shadows. Spark looked around as they went, eyes searching in the dim light.

"...You know, that green glow is kind of creepy."

Meadow couldn't help rolling her eyes. Ponies…

A couple hours later, Nightmare Night was winding down. Meadow followed along with the other foals, a full bag of candy floating alongside her, and surprised herself by being disappointed that the celebration was ending. Actually, she was a little embarrassed. She had reluctantly tried her hoof at that silly pumpkin-catapult game, and had enjoyed it. There was something satisfying about hurtling those melons through the air to splatter on the target. She managed to mollify her embarrassment a little with the thought that it was, possibly, less pointless than the other, less entertaining games. There was enough of a superficial similarity between that and some form of heavy siege weaponry that she could imagine it to be slightly practical. Still not as useful as changeling games, but she supposed that, for a pony game, it wasn't so bad.

Of course, the end of Nightmare Night meant more pony silliness; they still had to "offer up" their little candy sacrifice to Nightmare Moon. This seemed the most pointless and absurd part of the night. Even the most timid of the foals seemed to consider this all fake, and yet they still gave a fearful offering to a fake monster. At least they didn't have to give up all their candy. As she watched the foals ahead of her creep up to the large statue in the clearing ahead, they only dumped out about half their haul before scurrying away.

When it was her turn, she went through the motions, dumping some of her candy into the pile... but only a little. She had to give the appearance of going along with these silly social expectations, but that didn't mean she was going to give up any more candy than she needed to. A few pieces fell from her bag, her magic keeping the majority firmly in place.

Turning away, she paused to look up at the statue, lit by the soft glow of her horn. It was an armored figure, with what passed as a menacing expression for ponies. It was one of the rare breed, as well, with both a long horn and large wings. As far as ponies went, however, it wasn't bad.

One detail in particular caught her attention: the eyes. They were not normal pony eyes. Instead, they had a narrow, cat-like pupil. The sight made her immediately think of Ceymi.

Spark was stepping past her. "Come on, Meadow. Let's get out of here."

Her eyes slowly traced over the figure, admiring the glint of her green magic off its black surface. "So, this Nightmare Night thing happens every year?"

"Y-yeah," Spark said, anxiety rising every time he glanced at that statue.

Meadow smiled. "I think I know what I'm going as next year."

Returning to the orphanage, Meadow made a small detour on the way to her room. She slowed as she passed Bigs's room, glancing in. Her eyes took in the location, the layout, memorizing every little detail she could see. With a smug grin, she continued on to her own room.

She lay on her bed, in the dark, smiling faintly to herself. The orphanage grew quiet as the other foals went to sleep, the staff retiring for the night, while she waited patiently. The silence stretched on, punctuated by the occasional creaking and popping of the building itself, the sounds grown loud in the quiet of the night.

It was two hours after her return when she decided it was time. She crept out of bed, locked the door, and hid herself away in the closet. She grinned eagerly as the green flames of her magic washed over her form.

Big Shot was sleeping peacefully, his forelegs curled loosely around his blankets.

That peaceful sleep was broken as his blankets were torn away. He jerked back reflexively at the intrusion, starting to sit up, and looking to see what had just happened to his comfy blankets.

Two glowing blue eyes met his gaze. In the shadows, the faint moonlight filtering in through the windows glinted off a glossy carapace. Bigs's eyes went wide as the shadowed, nightmarish creature bared its sharp teeth.

As Nictis lunged, Bigs screamed.

Nictis's strike was aimed off-target, and he landed heavily beside Bigs, the bed groaning loudly in protest at the abuse. Bigs scrambled away, a knee catching Nictis in the side--the blow barely felt through his carapace--as Bigs lunged out of the bed and went sprawling on the floor. Nictis let out a low hiss, lunging again to land right behind the panicking colt. The move had the desired result; with a loud scream, Bigs bolted, tearing open the door and running down the hall, trying to escape the monster that had attacked him.

Nictis didn't follow. His eyes remained fixed on the doorway as his horn lit up, reaching out with his magic to grab the large cup he had set aside. It lifted, hovered over the bed, and upended, pouring out its contents. Nictis grinned coldly. A moment later, he refocused his magic. A ring of green, heatless flame encircled him. The fire rose, and the world slid away around him. When the flames receded, there was no sign of the changeling.

Moments later, a tired-looking Meadow Song opened the door of her room, joining the growing number of foals who were all peering out from their rooms, each of them curious as to what was going on. Bigs had fled down the hall, screaming about a monster, and already speculation and rumor had begun to circulate. Meadow didn't even bother hiding her smirk.

"I guess some ponies just can't handle Nightmare Night," she said, drawing a few quiet chuckles.

A couple minutes later, Crimson Heart and a few other staff members emerged from Bigs’s room. "It's okay, everypony. Everything is fine, just a false alarm. Go back to sleep."

Most of the foals closed their doors to return to bed, though several remained, watching. A few whispers passed back and forth, each asking the others if they knew what had happened. They had all decided he must have had a nightmare, when their attention was caught by Lucky Strike hauling out a bundle of bedding. Meadow smiled as several of the foals started chuckling at this. She didn't even need to say anything.

She stepped back, shutting her door, and walked happily to her bed. That was incredibly petty, she thought, too happy with the outcome to give even her own self-criticism much weight. And excessively complex. Also, temporary at best. And... well, Bigs couldn't have gotten a good look at me in the dark, not that he'd even know what he was looking at if he had. Besides, nopony is going to believe such a tale from a scared foal.

She flopped back onto her bed with a happy grin. I will eventually have to do something more substantial, of course, but this is such an entertaining start.

A very full bag of candy lifted up in the grip of her magic, and she selected a tasty-looking piece. Somepony was greedy, she thought as she dropped the bag beside her own. She unwrapped the candy and popped it into her mouth, her eyes closing as she lay back, relaxing.

Somehow, stolen candy just tastes better.

By the time Meadow arrived for breakfast, the tale of the previous night had already made it around the orphanage. Bigs was sitting conspicuously distant from the majority of the foals, with even his friends looking a little awkward at the situation. Nobody believed his story of some strange, black-armored thing attacking him in his room and simply vanishing without a trace. He had evidently given up on defending his story, now just trying to ignore the topic while denying everything. It wasn't working so well.

Meadow didn't even have to do anything, now. She could just let the whole event play out, and all the other ponies would do the work for her. Still, she couldn't resist giving a smug grin when Bigs looked at her. He just glared for a moment before looking away.

Such a great way to start the day, she thought as she sat down to a big bowl of cereal.

Spark, however, didn't seem to be having nearly as good of a day. He looked exhausted when he finally arrived for breakfast, eyes only half open. He set his own bowl on the table and sat, sagging in place.

When he had sat there almost half a minute, simply staring at his own bowl, Meadow finally had to ask, "Is something wrong?"

"Couldn't sleep," he mumbled, finally bringing up the energy to start eating.

"Why is that?"

Spark swallowed, then grumbled a little, ears drooping. "There was all that screaming in the middle of the night. It woke me up, and then... after it was gone, it was just so quiet, and dark, and I was all alone..."

Meadow just nodded. There wasn't anything she could think to say. Telling him to toughen up wouldn't work, and considering how soft he seemed to be, would probably just make things worse. She could express sympathy, but she was having a hard time thinking of how to do so.

While she continued thinking on this, Spark had grown quiet again, staring at his food.

"Meadow?"

She blinked, looking over to him again. Only now did she notice the nervousness building inside him. "Yes?"

He fidgeted, almost physically struggling against his anxiety. "I-I was wondering..." He halted, hesitating, and forced himself to speak again. "Do you... do you think I could stay with you?"

Meadow blinked again, surprised at the question. On the one hoof, it would be inconvenient. It'd be much harder to sneak off for magic practice, or to mess with Bigs. On the other hoof, it was an excellent opportunity to build up a stronger affection. Having him there would build up a stronger dependency on her presence, which would mean a stronger emotional connection, which in turn meant more food.

Seeing her pause in thought, Spark shrank back a little, embarrassed. "Er, nevermind. It was a stupid idea."

And if I turn him down, the rejection will hold him away. It will weigh down any affection he feels for me, keeping him just a bit more distant.

"Actually, I think that is a great idea," she said, giving a warm smile.

"Y-you do?" he said, breaking out into a broad smile. A moment later it faded, and he blushed, looking awkwardly away. "I-I mean, it doesn't have to be anything permanent. Maybe a night or two?"

She reached over, looping a foreleg around his shoulders and gently pulling him in beside her. Okay, this "hugging" thing can be useful. "You can stay as long as you like, Spark."

The tension in his body slowly faded, his smile returning as he leaned into the sideways hug. "Thanks, Meadow."

She just nodded, savoring his happiness.

A good portion of the next day was spent moving Spark's possessions. She had no idea where he got so many mechanical parts, but it made for a sizable collection. Most of them were in poor condition, being broken, damaged, or partially disassembled. Unfortunately, it didn't make the loads any lighter to haul between rooms, but she had insisted on helping out. She wanted to make sure he felt as welcome as she could.

She was leaving her room again, after hauling in a particularly heavy box, when Crimson Heart approached her. The older mare smiled. "Meadow, could I speak with you a moment?"

"Of course," Meadow replied, looking at her curiously. What a strange question. She's in charge here, she hardly needs to ask permission.

Crimson led her over to a small bench at the side of the hall, and they sat there. "Seems you've taken a liking to Spark Wheel."

"Yes," Meadow replied, suddenly cautious. Why is she bringing this up? Does she suspect that something is wrong? "He's very nice, and smart. He's just a little timid."

"Oh, that he is," Crimson said with a chuckle. "And I'd say he's more than just smart. He's brilliant. Perhaps a little too taken by his imagination at times, but that's not so bad. It's just nice to see him finally having made a friend. I wanted to thank you for that. I think it means more to him than you might know."

Oh, I think I know more than you would think. "I'm just glad that he's happy," Meadow replied.

Crimson nodded, looking off down the hallway. "Me too. I... well, I wish it could have come sooner. I am a little sad that his first friendship may not last for very long."

Meadow looked to her in alarm. What? Why? What's going on?

The older mare sighed slightly. "There's a couple that are coming next week, looking to adopt. They're both involved with the Royal Engineer Corps, and I have a feeling that Spark's interest in mechanics might be appealing to them." She gave a bittersweet smile. "I'm always happy to see foals finding a loving home, but it's still sad to see them separated from their friends. Especially ones like Spark, who have so few..."

Meadow stared down at the floor. Of course. Things were going well, so of course something would go wrong. I've invested a lot of effort into getting him into an ideal place, where I can get all the food I could want, and now it might be taken away from me.

"I'm sorry. It's not a sure thing, and there are several other foals they might adopt instead, but I wanted to give you a little warning, just in case..."

Meadow just nodded.

Crimson reached out, giving her a gentle squeeze around the shoulders, and for once, she was too distracted to feel offended at the gesture. She was too focused on the thought that she was, possibly, soon to lose her best source of food.

Unless, of course, she were to do something about it.

Meadow still lay awake an hour after going to bed, listening to Spark's snoring. He had worried that it would annoy her, or keep her up, but she had finally convinced him it was fine. To tell the truth, it was somewhat pleasant. The hive was busy at all hours, and you never knew when a group of drones might wander through the chamber you were sleeping in. Ponies, however, all seemed to synchronize their sleep, and she had found her bedroom unnaturally quiet. She had, of course, managed just fine despite the quiet, but it was comforting to have the background noise.

It also made it easier to sneak about.

She slipped off her blankets, hooves dropping softly to the floor. She paused, listening to the steady snoring. He seemed to be sleeping soundly, but she had no idea how soundly. A simple test would do; she hopped, her hooves clopping against the ground as she landed.

Spark made a faint snort, head rolling to the side, and the snoring resumed. A second hop didn't even draw that little of a response. Meadow smiled.

She paused at the window a moment. In the dark, she could only just see the edge of the small forest, nowhere near the size and thickness of the Everfree, but hopefully wild enough for what she needed. She continued on to the closet, quietly shutting the door behind her, before charging up her magic. The distance was much greater than her previous trip, and she could already feel it draining far more energy. Again, green flames leaped up around her, washing over the world, and everything lurched. It felt as if she were pulled into the ground, and for a moment, direction seemed meaningless. The sensation vanished, the world seeming to slide around her again, as if she were rising out of it, ground solidifying beneath her hooves. The fire flickered away in an instant, to reveal the darkened forest stretching out to the distance, the faint lights of Mareville sparkling in the distance.

A faint feeling of fatigue passed through her, but it faded quickly. The journey had taken a lot of her energy, but she could easily make such a trip multiple times before running dry, and the orphanage provided such a bounty of food for her that she didn't have to worry about recovering.

She paused a moment as she looked around the dark. Stupid pony eyes. She closed her eyes and concentrated. A moment later she opened them again, the pale-blue orbs shining faintly in the dark. The shadows had lost their depths, the moonlight filtering through the canopy more than enough illumination for the changeling eyes. Much better.

She trotted off into the woods, eager to begin. She only had a couple hours before she would have to return for the night, and only the vaguest idea of what she was looking for.

Most of the day was spent with Spark. For the most part, this wasn't any different from any other day. The only real difference had come that afternoon, when Meadow started inquiring about some of the mechanical parts Spark had been playing with. It had taken a bit of prodding to get him to open up, but once she had... well, he was enthusiastic about his interest. He had started pulling out parts, eagerly talking about extravagant plans for them, though half the time he spent simply playing with them. She humored him, even encouraged him. By the time evening had come around, Spark was assembling a few parts from a broken fan and a blender, eagerly wrapped up in his work, while Meadow did her best to help--which generally consisted of holding something while he did the real work.

"It must be about dinner time, now," she said, and stood, smiling down at him. "I'm going to go grab us some food. I'll be right back."

"Oh, you don't have to do that. I'll--"

"Nah, you keep at it," she said with a chuckle. "I want to see how this turns out! It'll just be a minute, anyway."

"Well... okay. Thanks!" He smiled happily at her, and Meadow returned the smile as she stepped out of the room.

The next few days proceeded much the same. The days went as usual: school, play, socializing. Bigs was starting to recover some of his standing, mainly by distracting attention onto another foal--though to be fair, Thunder Chaser's crash straight through the gallery windows off the main hall had been pretty spectacular, even without Bigs's teasing. Still, she held the advantage for the moment, and besides, she had more important things to consider. She'd take care of him eventually, but for now he could wait.

Evenings usually found them back in their room, toying with Spark's bits of machinery or having another study session, only interrupted when Meadow slipped out to bring back their dinner.

Night, meanwhile, held more trips into the forest, searching in the dark.

It was four nights before Meadow finally found what she was looking for. She almost missed it at first, just a little glimpse of purple nestled in the brush. She pushed the thin branches of the bush aside, revealing the flower, and looked it over carefully, trying to think back, to remember.

Gathering food for the hive was the main task of the Infiltrators, and the most important, but it was hardly the only one. They gathered information for the hive. Sometimes they planted misinformation, to keep their foes looking away.

And sometimes, when all other, more subtle methods had failed to drive away their foes, an Infiltrator would kill them.

Their training had only brushed across the subject. It had been nothing in-depth, just a few basic lessons. One of those lessons had included a quick and very simple tutoring on the subject of poisons; a short lecture, a few diagrams of toxic plants. It was this lesson that she tried to recall now, as she looked carefully over the purple, bell-shaped flower. If this was what she thought it was, it was an incredibly dangerous plant. Even handling the leaves was supposed to be dangerous, the toxins able to seep in even through a changeling's carapace.

Carefully, she cut away a stem with her magic.

Spark was so excited. He tried--poorly--to hide it, but it was obvious to her. The idea of being adopted, of having a family again, it meant so much to him. It was only when she mentioned that she would miss him that he considered the downside.

His ears drooped a bit. "I'll miss you too," he said, awkwardly.

"Oh, don't worry about it," she said with a chuckle. "We can still write to each other. Maybe I can even visit you when I get out of here, too."

He smiled and managed a weak chuckle of his own.

"Tell you what," she said, rising. "I'll go get us some food, and we can hang out here the rest of the evening. One more night together."

It was a short walk to the dining hall. Dinner was just being set out, Full Kettle giving her a friendly nod as she claimed two plates.

On the way back, she slipped out the little packet she had snuck along with her. She opened it, pausing as she looked inside at the fine powder she had ground from the plant.

It would be so much simpler if she could just drain the love from him, weakening him safely, but his affection simply wasn't strong enough to drain him thoroughly enough, quickly enough. It would have been much safer, as well. This? This was risky. She had very little idea how much of the plant would be needed. Too much would be fatal. Too little would not have a strong enough effect. Either way, Spark would be lost to her. In the end, she had decided it was best to be cautious with the dose. If he died, there would be awkward questions, ponies looking into why he died. Besides, she'd really rather not kill him. That would be... sloppy. Unprofessional.

She upended the tiny packet, carefully sprinkling the powder over one of the soup bowls, then giving it a quick stir. When she returned to the room, she was very careful to pass the correct bowl to Spark.

They chatted happily as they ate.

She kindly offered him the rest of her water half an hour later, when he began to complain of an upset stomach.

She faked concern when it grew worse, nausea rising.

She held a hoof comfortingly around his side as he heaved, having vomited his dinner into a hastily-grabbed bowl.

She tucked him gently into bed when he grew weak and exhausted, his thoughts growing muddled.

She listened to his rough, labored breathing as she sat vigil through the night, her eyes staring, unblinking in the dark.

Spark staggered into their room that afternoon. He looked horrible, exhausted, worn-down. The ‘food poisoning,’ as the mysterious ailment had been labeled, was mostly passed, but an even worse pain had taken its place. His eyes were wet with barely-restrained tears.

"Spark?" Meadow said, voice laced with concern. "What's wrong?"

He staggered to a stop, trembling faintly. It took a few moments before he spoke. "I-I'm useless..."

Meadow rose from where she sat, looking surprised. "W-what? No you're not!"

"I am," he said, louder, shuddering. "They m-must have thought I was an i-idiot. I... I just..."

Meadow quickly reached out to pull him in, squishing his soft body against her own in a tight hug. "You're not useless, and you're not an idiot. You're the most brilliant pony I've ever met, Spark, and the best friend I've ever had. You're not useless..."

He shuddered, leaning heavily into her as he sobbed. She could feel the tears starting to wet her fur. She held him tight, a hoof gently stroking at the back of his head as she murmured softly to him.

As she drew in the building, desperate affection at her show of sympathy, she couldn't help but smile.

Chapter 6: Back and Forth

Chapter 6: Back and Forth

Four years.

Meadow was tempted to feel proud of herself. Four years had seen every plan and plot slowly fall into place. She was a friend to every foal. The staff held her in respect, looking to her as an example of pony ideals: friendly, gentle, and selfless. She had an abundance of food, far more than she could ever need. Everything was perfect.

Yet despite this, a shadow of doubt and worry built, clinging to the background of her thoughts.

Four years had seen many changes. She had long since had her final molt, now a fully-grown changeling under the fleshy pony guise. That disguise had changed, as well. Over time she made small changes, gradually increasing size to mimic the growth of the foals around her, yet keeping the leanness that she--and thankfully, many other ponies--found appealing. She had even learned more subtle techniques in shapeshifting. When one was completely changing their body, it took only a small tweak to ensure that the new form had excellent muscle tone, a strong heart and lungs, and other such aspects. Her form was, in her opinion, as close as a pony could be to perfection.

Yet as she looked around, she was hardly the only thing that had changed. Most of the faces, while they looked to her with happiness and affection, were new. Most of the faces that she had known were now gone.

The first to go had caught Meadow completely by surprise.

It had been the evening after Spark's first "rejection" when Cotton Candy caught up with her. Meadow was returning from the dining hall, a pair of plates levitating along beside her, when the pink filly's voice caught her attention.

"Hey, Meadow. Could I talk with you a moment?"

Meadow looked at her curiously, surprised by the serious tone the normally cheery pony had. "Sure, I guess."

She followed Cotton to a bench, gently setting the plates down; Spark would have to wait a few minutes for dinner. He hadn't left the room since his that morning. The only ponies he had seen since then had been Crimson and Gentle Heart, both of whom had tried to comfort him, and reassure him that they'd find him a family. The rest of the day had been spent with him desolately curled up beside Meadow, taking comfort in her presence and the reassuring touch of her hoof.

"Is Spark okay?" Cotton asked, quietly. "He looked... I don't know, did he get any sleep at all last night? He looked exhausted, and so nervous. And then, afterward..." She let out a long sigh, frowning. "He looked so devastated."

"He's taking it a little hard," Meadow said, reluctantly.

"I noticed. I just..." Cotton slumped a little. "I feel like it's my fault."

Meadow blinked in surprise. "What? It's not your fault, why would you think that?"

"Because it kind of is," she grumbled. "The couple that came here, Slide and Skyline... I'm the one they're adopting."

"Oh," was all Meadow managed to say. Somehow, she had failed to consider the fact that, if Spark were not adopted, some other foal might be. It just had to have been one of the ones that were closer to her, too. Better her than Spark, but it was still a blow.

"I hope he doesn't blame me," Cotton said. "I like him and all, he's nice. I just... well, I was just friendly to them, and they liked me, and afterward Spark was so crushed. I just want to let him know I'm sorry for how it turned out..."

"I don't think he blames you," Meadow said, truthfully. Still, best to keep them slightly apart. The fewer ponies to offer sympathy to Spark, the more dependent he would be upon her. "And even if he does, it won't last. He's just really torn up over it. Give him time, I'm sure he won't hold it against you."

Cotton winced a little, but nodded. Twice she opened her mouth, struggling for words, only to shut it again. Finally, she sighed, slumping again. "Could you tell him that I'm really sorry about all this? I'm glad to have found a family that will take me in, but I never wanted it to hurt my friends."

She finally gets what she wants, and then is sad because someone else doesn't get it. Ponies are such absurd creatures. Despite that thought, she gave a little smile. "Of course, Cotton."

"Thanks," she replied, her eyes watering slightly. Abruptly, she gave Meadow a hug, squeezing tight. "I'm going to miss you. And Spark. I can write to you, so we can keep in touch. That way we can still be friends?"

I suppose that means I'll have to write back, Meadow thought. Although, it might be good to keep in touch. There certainly wouldn't be anything wrong in having a few “friends” out there.

"Yeah. I'd like that."

Cotton hadn't been the last to leave. Adoption visits soon became a task of triage, as Meadow tried to drain enough energy from those she favored, in order to make the less-desirable foals more appealing. Being only fairly casual friends, she couldn't drain them very fast, and even if she could, she had to keep it subtle. She wasn't able to skew the results much, but it helped a little.

Even as the old faces left, new ones arrived. Arriving in a mysterious new place, surrounded by strangers, and likely with some tragedy in their recent past, they were easy prey; a friendly smile, a helping hoof, an offering of sympathy, and they became quick friends. It took a great deal of work to keep up appearances. She had to give an unwavering effort toward presenting a warm, compassionate front, and spent many hours "selflessly" helping others, but even when she spent almost every waking hour on the task, the bounty of friendship it brought her was more than worth it.

One face did not change, however. Spark Wheel was the one constant, almost always at her side. If anything personified the perfection of her skills, it was him. He was practically isolated from the rest of the foals, almost entirely dependent on her for comfort and companionship, and as a result, he was devoted to her. It was a personal kind of friendship, build on desperation and desire, and wonderfully sweet to her senses, better than the much more casual respect and friendship of the other foals. Even without the energy she drew from the other ponies, she could have lived contently on Spark's affection; all the more reason she was not going to let it go.

She found it delightfully ironic that his feelings toward her were the very tools that she needed to grow those feelings stronger and stronger. The trip out into the forest was not needed again. Instead, she could simply draw on his emotions, devouring his affection until he grew weak, his mind dulled. It took only a couple seemingly-innocent words to plant the idea in his mind that it was nerves giving him the headache and ruining his sleep. Then, after another opportunity came and passed him by, he would descend into self-recrimination, while she would hold and comfort him, assuring him that it wasn't his fault.

For how many foals were adopted, it was somewhat frustrating that Bigs was still there. Granted, he was one of the few diversions she had, and it was hardly as if he was threatening, but it was disappointing to see so many foals that liked her leave, while he remained. She suspected he was intentionally making himself less appealing to the couples that came to visit, looking to adopt. It made sense, after all; here, he was in charge, at the top of the social order--or had been, anyway, before she had come around to spoil it for him.

Their little rivalry had grown over time. Overtly, they verbally sparred with each other, little quips and barbs that had little result in the end. For more covert matters, however, Meadow held an easy edge.

Everypony was convinced that Bigs's visions of some armored, glowing-eyed creature was something from his nightmares--perhaps his mind's version of the Nightmare--but he knew it wasn't something he had imagined. While there was no evidence to suggest what the creature really was, he must have had his suspicions. A monster showing up in the middle of the night, waking him up, attacking him, and then vanishing, never to be seen again? It was unusual, to say the least. It didn't help that she taunted him over it. Oh, it was nothing overt, she just grinned smugly at him whenever the subject came up. Yeah, I'm responsible. Good luck figuring out how.

Her fairly petty "first strike" was eventually followed up by more stunts to humiliate and discredit Bigs, and her newly-learned spell made many tricks trivially easy. With the fire portal to slip between places, she could easily sneak about, even entering areas that should have been impossible for anyone to get into without being seen. This ability let her arrange all manner of trouble for Bigs. Things would disappear from his room, other things would show up unexpectedly, and he would occasionally wake up to a warm, wet sensation soaking through his blankets. Somehow, that last one never got old.

She had even crafted a new persona just for the purposes of stealth: Coal, a black-furred unicorn filly with a cutie mark of a turquoise cat-eye, just like the Nightmare Night decoration. It was only a precaution, another layer of protection. Even if anypony saw Coal--and nobody had, she thought proudly--there would be nothing to connect her to Meadow. She could engage in all sorts of mischief, and never have to worry about the consequences of being found out.

With such advantages at her disposal, she could wage an unrelenting war of trickery on Bigs, and one particular "prank" stood out among the rest. It had taken place on the birthday of Blueberry, a blue earth-pony filly who had arrived less than a week prior. Meadow--that is, Coal--had snuck into the kitchen the night before and swiped the birthday cake that Full Kettle had prepared, and silently stashed it in Bigs's room, behind the second, unused bed. After all, how often would somepony check the unused back-corner of their room?

As it just so happens, the answer was "once a week," but not by Bigs. Friday was cleaning day, where the staff would dust, change bedding, sweep, and do whatever other cleaning needed to be done. Lucky Strike had been in Bigs's room less than a minute when he came back out, a tight, angry expression on his face. He had found the missing cake, minus a thick slice.

Meadow idly wished she had made it a bigger slice. It was a delicious cake.

That had certainly stirred things up. It was the only time any of the foals had seen Crimson Heart angry, though she did her best to hide it. Everything Bigs had done before, or had been accused of, had been downplayed or excused as children making mistakes. This, however, simply seemed too malicious for the gentle mare.

Blueberry was upset over her birthday being spoiled by what had happened, but Meadow had seen another opportunity; after whispering to Spark and Limelight, the three of them hurried off to meet Full Kettle in the kitchen, who happily joined in on their plan.

By the time dinner came, along with the birthday celebrations, they brought out a new--if hastily made--cake. Blueberry had wasted no time in grabbing them all in a tight hug, overcome with emotion.

Another small success.

Bigs's domination had been broken for good, that day. Nopony looked up to him, although he could still use threats to occasionally get what he wanted. Most held him in contempt, particularly when he maintained his innocence. Even his friends began abandoning him. Boulder had withdrawn in the aftermath of the birthday incident, avoiding Bigs, and pretty much everypony else. The small cluster of hangers-on dispersed. Cloud Burst had been the only one to stick around, though it seemed more from pure indifference instead of any sense of loyalty. That was made even more clear just a month later, when she was adopted. Her parting words, uttered when none of the staff was within earshot, had been "Later, losers," and Meadow found it amusing that she made no effort to exclude Bigs from the statement.

Years. Meadow huffed out a deep breath in the warm, comforting darkness. It seemed so recent. Has it really been so... simple, uneventful?

That seemed fair. Things had certainly become more simple, after that.

Cotton was true to her word, a letter arriving just a week after she had left, much to Spark's delight. There was little to say, mainly that she missed them and looked forward to hearing from them, and they had, of course, sent a reply the next day. It was a trend that was repeated, with somewhat less frequency, by some of the other foals that were adopted over time. Each one sparked a faint glimmer of pride in her, having built up enough affection in her prey for it to last even after they were separated.

She even got letters from Misty Dawn and Gray Oak, eventually; a mix-up in the postal service had resulted in the mail for her being directed to some stallion in Ponyville for a couple of months, before they had cleared the matter up. Their letters wished her well, inquiring how she was doing in everything from her studies to making friends, questions that she was proud to answer quite thoroughly. They seemed quite happy to receive stories of her life--stories she made sure to word as best she could, while omitting the more questionable elements--and returned many of their own. These stories ranged all over, from talk of their old friends Sapwood and Dandelion becoming a couple, to the story of an inexplicable stampede of bears that knocked down Red Ridge's barn; "Strange things are always coming out of the Everfree," Gray Oak had written before casually switching to an anecdote about the local weather team accidentally setting up the winter clouds wrong and covering the town in three inches of hail before they could get things fixed.

At least things are interesting there? Meadow thought, rather unsure if that was an improvement over her own situation.

At least when interesting things happened at the orphanage, they were less potentially destructive. If only they happened more frequently, it would be perfect. Sure, her hard work had been rewarded by a great feast of emotion, but a certain monotony had grown over time. It was the same routine, day in and day out. Taunting and pranking Bigs was becoming a highlight, as sad as that was.

The holidays were probably the most interesting break in routine. Both Hearts and Hooves day and Hearth's Warming Eve amused Meadow, being holidays devoted to love and friendship, each of which made for wonderful feasts for the disguised changeling. Despite that, there was just something about Nightmare Night that she preferred, particularly with her new costume. With the polished-metal armor, black-dyed fur, and fake pegasus wings, she looked about as close to Nightmare Moon as possible for a unicorn filly. Better yet, she could act the part. Limelight reprised her role as Celestia, letting them play off each other. She cackled and mocked the other ponies, and so long as she didn't go too far, they loved her for it. To them, she seemed to take on the perfect mimicry of Nightmare Moon--but in her own mind, she could only imagine Ceymi.

Meanwhile, her classes continued. It was difficult to both focus enough time on her studies as well as the work to build up and maintain the friendship of all the other foals, but she was determined to see it through. In class, she was focused, every ounce of attention set to learning everything she could. She had progressed quickly, absorbing information as quickly as she could, delighting in the thought that these ponies were giving her the exact weapon she needed. How better to learn the ways of her prey than directly from the prey themselves?

Unfortunately, she was not the only one to learn. Bigs had, ever so slowly, grown more clever. He couldn't defeat her directly; she had the admiration of most of the orphanage, while he had fallen out of grace. An exchange of insults or rumors was a lost cause for him. He had even tried more physical means of intimidation, but she had never given him the opportunity. She was popular, and he wasn't willing to start a fight with her where others would see it. There were, however, other ways for him to get at her. When an opponent is armored against the direct approach, a more indirect approach might slip past that armor, finding a weak-point to exploit.

It turned out that Spark Wheel was one large weak-point.

While Bigs couldn't do much by harassing her, Spark was much more vulnerable. Sure, he tried to play it off, but every insult and slight got to him, and in turn, to Meadow. Sparks was hers, and Bigs was messing with him. At first she had almost been thankful of Bigs's taunting, giving her more opportunity to comfort Spark, but it soon became apparent that it was too much; there had to be happiness to balance out the sadness, and Bigs's clumsy smacking at Spark's emotions were undermining her meticulous work. She shot off her own insults in return, which was frustrating when Bigs seemed pleased. He had irritated her again, and worst of all, all of her insults and stealthy pranks only seemed to drive him on, his barbs growing more cruel every day.

And then, one day, he went too far.

Spark had accompanied Meadow to lunch, which she considered quite the feat; normally he spent all day sulking after another opportunity at adoption had come and passed, but she was drawing him out of his depression much more quickly this time, the crushing sadness already fading away for those tasty feelings of need and affection.

"I see you're still a failure."

Both Meadow and Spark turned to glare at Bigs, who was casually walking by, wearing a smug grin. "Oh, what, were you crying? I thought you'd be used to nobody wanting you by now."

The sensation of Spark's shocked depression burned in Meadow's senses, kindling her own anger. As clumsy as the insults were, they worked all too well on Spark in his already-weakened state. He was in no state to defend himself from Bigs's attacks; she needed to protect him, herself. "Don't you have a bed to be wetting?" she shot back, barely keeping an angry growl from entering her voice.

"I wasn't talking to you, princess," he shot back, then looked back down to Spark. "What, can the oh-so-smart Spark not speak for himself? Or is he going to go crying to his fake-mommy to make it all better?"

Spark's eyes widened, ears pinning back. Meadow could feel the sudden horror emanating from him. Bigs had hit on something painful. "S-shut up," Spark whimpered back.

"Oh, yeah, really well-spoken," Bigs taunted. "I can see why you let her speak for you all the time. You don't seem nearly as stupid when you don't say anything."

"Shut up," Spark repeated, his voice weakening. She could see the tears building rapidly, the tremble going through his body.

Bigs just laughed and walked off, calling out a parting "Boo-hoo!" as he left.

Spark snuffled weakly, his head drooping as the tears ran slowly down his cheeks. Meadow scooted closer, reaching a foreleg around--

Spark cringed away from the gesture.

A chill rolled through Meadow's body, a cold fury gripping at her mind. Bigs had hurt him. Not only that, but he had planted that seed of doubt and fear in Spark's mind, one that could ruin all her hard work. As clumsy as his insults were, he threatened to drive a wedge between the two of them. He had managed to do real damage.

He'll pay for this.

She closed in again, gripping Spark in a firm hug, despite his weak and momentary protest. "I'm sorry," she said. He went still, tear-filled eyes turning to look at her, with a faint hint of confusion at the apology. "I'm going to go take care of this, for good." She reached up a hoof to gently stroke at his wet cheek, and when he still just stared in confusion, added, "Trust me, okay?"

They were still for a few moments before he nodded, and she gave a weak smile.

She released Spark, turned, and walked toward Bigs. Her legs trembled faintly before she regained her composure, her hooves striking the ground just a little harder than usual. By the time she reached Bigs, she wore a mask of calmness.

Her voice came soft and polite. "Bigs, can I speak with you in private?"

Bigs turned from his lunch, staring at her for a moment as if she'd grown a second head. "And why in Tartarus would I want to talk with you?" he shot back harshly.

She didn't even bat an eye at the response. "Because for weeks now, you've been trying to catch me where nopony else can see. I'm willing to give you that, if you'll listen to what I have to say."

His ears perked up. She could tell he was pleased at the thought. No doubt he was imagining beating her up, and likely claiming she started it. He'd still get in trouble--his credibility was pretty well shot--but he evidently thought it a worthwhile exchange to get some retribution. "...Okay. Yeah, let's talk."

"Your room?"

"Sure."

They walked in silence, his expression tight, but eager. There were hints of excitement there, wafting gently into Meadow's senses. Short-sighted fool. He's so eager to get me alone that he doesn't even hesitate to think why I would seek it out. He's really making this too easy.

Bigs even gave the feigned courtesy of opening the door for her. She walked in, head held high, completely unconcerned. Bigs stepped in behind her, closed the door, and with a click, engaged the lock.

He had just turned away from the door, a foreleg lifted to step further into the room, when Meadow lunged, her horn flaring in a brilliant plume of fiery magic.

In a simple contest of strength, there was no equaling Bigs. Meadow's body might be magical perfection of form, but it was still lean, clearly outweighed by Big Shot, and as a result, out-muscled. Her magic, fueled by the accumulated affection of a couple dozen foals, was powerful, but even that would have likely been insufficient to hold an earth pony of Bigs's size, particularly for any extended struggle.

Combined, however, they were more than enough.

Meadow rammed her shoulder into him with all her strength. It would have been enough to make him stagger back, if not for the magic that pulled on his legs. He twisted, toppling over to land with an angry grunt. "You little--urk!"

He went silent as Meadow's hoof pressed down firmly on his neck, cutting off his breath. The colt's mouth kept moving as he struggled to breathe, limbs pulling and twisting against the grip of her magic. It took every ounce of magical power she had to restrain him, and she was burning through her reserves quickly. It took a powerful effort, but she didn't let the effort show in her expression.

Instead, she simply cast a cold glare at him as he squirmed beneath her hoof.

At least he put up a struggle. He glared back angrily as he twisted and pulled, trying to break free, to grab at her foreleg or strike out at her. His rage was almost overwhelming in her senses. It did him little good. Soon his struggles were weakening, his eyes slowly widening as his anger was replaced by something new: fear.

Slowly, his limbs started to grow still, his eyes softened, slowly rolling back.

She let off the pressure, just a bit.

Bigs dragged in a ragged breath, abruptly pulled back from the verge of unconsciousness. The first sight he saw as his eyes focused again was her glare. The anger started to flare back, and he gasped out between his frantic breaths "Let me go you--"

She pushed down again, cutting him off. Again the struggles picked up, desperate to dislodge that hoof, but already weakened. The load on her magic was lighter; still a heavy drain, but she could sustain it for a short time. She would be nearly drained by the time this was done, but it should be enough.

Once his struggles weakened again, she relaxed the pressure, and he again gasped in deep breaths, despite still being nearly choked by the offending hoof. At least this time he got the point, and didn't try to speak, laying still.

Meadow glared at him for several seconds before speaking. "I trust I have your attention?"

Bigs bared his teeth and grunted something that Meadow decided to interpret as an affirmative. She raised her head again, casting a cold, disapproving look down at the prone colt--a look that could have come straight from Ceymi herself. "I am going to make this very simple, Bigs. The only reason you have lived this long is because it would be ever so slightly more inconvenient to kill you than to let you live."

His eyes didn't waver from the angry look, but she felt the sudden shock of fear go through him. Threatening death so sincerely was not something ponies did, not normally.

She twisted her hoof a little, teasing at his throat, and drawing a fearful grunt in response.

"...You are going to be on your best behavior from now on, Bigs. You will not do anything against me. You will not do anything against Spark. You will even find time to apologize to Spark for what you've said. Do you understand?"

He grunted.

Meadow pressed down again, sending Bigs into another fit of struggling against her as she lowered her face near his, a cruel grin spreading across her muzzle. "Sorry, I didn't catch that." As his panic grew greater, his mouth gaping as if trying to mouth a response, she coldly added, "Nod for yes."

Bigs nodded frantically, and he could abruptly breathe again. His eyes watered; fear was finally starting to win out over anger.

"Now then," Meadow said as she drew back, resuming her cold glare. "You're probably too simple-minded to think this through on your own, so I'm going to spell it out for you. You're not going to tell anypony about our little conversation. We both know I'm a far better liar than you are. Nopony will help you. I'll tell them a convincing and perfectly plausible story, and they will believe me. And then I will kill you."

He flinched at the cold bluntness of the statement, and whimpered, a tear rolling down his cheek.

"I've been in this room so many times, Bigs. You know I have. You don't know how I've done it, all these times, but you know it's happened. I can come and go any time I please, and no lock can stop me. If you tell anypony about this discussion, if you don't do as I've told you, if you become even a slight inconvenience to me, then you will have to sleep wondering if that is going to be the night that I come. I might come that night, or the next, or a week later, but I will come, and when I do, nopony will even find the ashes that used to be your carcass."

She released him, stepping back as her magic winked out. He gasped in a deep breath, unhindered by the press of her hoof, and curled up. Meadow watched, frowning as he quietly sobbed, his anger buried under shame and fear. "...So pathetic. You had to resort to lording over a bunch of orphans, just to try to feel like you had some worth. Strip that away, and everypony can see what you really are: just a sniveling, orphaned foal, terrified that everypony is going to see how meaningless your existence is." She walked over to the door, then paused. "Spare yourself the embarrassment, and don't bother to come out again until you can keep yourself from crying all over everything. Everypony thinks you're pathetic enough, already."

With that, she stepped out of the room, shutting the door loudly behind her.

Then she took a deep, stuttering breath, letting it out slowly. Raising a hoof, she watched it tremble under the assault of adrenaline, the same tremor that threatened to grip her whole body. Lowering the hoof, she gave a short, shuddering sigh. That had been... intense. Far more intense than she had expected. Yes, it had been entirely one-sided and clearly in her favor, and yet...

She shook her head, slowly walking back to the main hall.

That had been the end of it. Bigs eventually emerged from his room for dinner, looking rather drained, almost dazed. He seemed torn between glaring at her in anger, or avoiding her attention entirely, and his emotions were similarly mixed; anger and humiliation broiled under the grip of fear, the former growing every moment until he looked to her, and the fear surged anew. It was almost comical, watching him trying to avoid acknowledging her when he approached Spark, offering a weak and clumsy apology before retreating again.

Spark just looked surprised at this, and more than a little confused.

From that point on, Bigs avoided them. Meadow would catch the occasional angry glare from across the room, made when he thought she wasn't looking, but he made no attempt to interact with them. She made no attempt, either; so long as he stayed out of the way, she was fairly indifferent to what he did. That didn't stop her from reminding him of their agreement on occasion, although in a rather indirect manner. Sure, he probably had some interest in figuring out what strange monster had attacked him that one Nightmare Night, and that book about monsters could have been helpful--assuming it had what he was looking for, which naturally, it did not--but he didn't seem very happy that the very large book appeared on the end-table beside his bed, while he slept. He'd been particularly quiet, that morning.

Two months after their confrontation, he left. He didn't say anything to anypony, there were no goodbyes or parting words. He simply didn't show up one day, with Crimson passing on the news of his adoption that evening at dinner.

With that, she was left uncontested. Nothing had been left to stand in her way as she rose in the eyes of everypony. Her position was secure, her food abundant.

Pathetic.

She had won.

Meaningless.

The orphanage was hers.

…

Lording over a bunch of orphans…

...

Meadow sighed, sinking a bit against the railing of the balcony. She was leaning on it, eyes wandering across the dozen foals playing in the grassy lawn beyond. Even now, she put on the act, her face showing none of the unpleasant thoughts she was dwelling on.

Increasingly, her thoughts were turned inward. In four years, she had gone from a new, unknown filly, to practically ruling over all the foals in the orphanage, eagerly drawing in their abundant affection. But what had she really accomplished? She was fully grown, had learned pony culture first-hoof... and this was all that she had managed. She was well-fed, but she could hardly consider herself proud of that. These soft, naive ponies made it so incredibly easy on her.

She couldn't help but feel that her talents were being wasted here. Her accomplishments were decent for a nymph, but she had grown, even more than her pony guise let on. Even worse, she worried that these ponies were rubbing off on her, that she was becoming weak and soft like them. She was surrounded by luxury that she hadn't even realized she had come to accept as routine. Concerned, she pushed herself harder. She resumed exercising to keep herself fit and strong, particularly her natural form, which had grown weak after her reliance on shapeshifting as a shortcut to a healthier body. It was comforting, in a way. Distracting.

But her thoughts kept drifting back, no matter how she distracted herself.

When Spark arrived, he slumped down to the ground to sit beside her with a muted grunt, looking as downcast as her thoughts.

She frowned a little, looking to him. She didn't like seeing him so downcast. It had been a useful tool at first, something that let her show sympathy to grow his affection, but that need had long passed. She would much prefer to see him happy, fueling that delicious friendship, so much more satisfying that what she got from the other foals. "Are you okay?"

Spark grunted a little, then sighed. Whatever it was, it was worse than usual. His emotions were filled with self-pity, even a bit of self-loathing. The affection he held for her was muted, barely even detectable past the empty, nonconsumable emotions. Eventually he mumbled, "There's another adoption interview, tomorrow."

She quirked an eyebrow, looking at him curiously. "Well, that's a good thing, right?"

He let out a quiet snort. "What's the point? It's just going to end the same way as all the other times." He slouched a bit more against the railing, eyes fixed on the ground. He hadn't so much as looked at her, so caught up in his thoughts.

Meadow's frown deepened. Over time, with each rejection, each failure, his mood had grown more downcast. She could coax him out of the state long enough to feed, but lately it had started growing harder. Usually, however, the depression had come after a rejection. He had always held onto his hope, but now even that was fading. I'm going to break him, at this rate, she thought, sourly. A broken pony, hopeless and empty, would be of little use as food.

She could just let him go, she supposed. She had more than she needed from the other foals, after all, and it took much less effort. Of course, she found it more satisfying to see him happy. His emotions were more personal, stronger, tastier. If she were entirely honest with herself, she had to admit a degree of sentimentality. He was, after all, her first great success. She wanted to keep him, herself, but she also didn't want to break him. It was just a matter of figuring out how to get both.

For the moment, the best she could do was try to ease his mood, to make him happy again.

"It'll work out," she offered, her voice comforting. "You'll see. Someday, a couple will come and see the real you, and I know they'll like what they see. Don't give up, Spark. You'll find a family, someday."

"Easy for you to say," he grumbled. "At least you've got a family out there, somewhere..."

Meadow huffed out a breath into the oppressive darkness. That line lingered in her thoughts, weighing far heavier than it should, than it had before. Why? Her family--her hive--was out there, waiting for her to find her way home. The thought should be encouraging, but her thoughts mingled with the earlier doubts, her mind took a darker track.

Would they even want me, now?

I'm supposed to be an Infiltrator, and this... this is all I could manage. All I've got to show is the fleeting affection of a few foals that would likely be gone within a year. My greatest success is turning into an emotional wreck because I'm too inept to handle him better. The only challenge I've faced was a simple-minded bully, who was only an opponent because of my own mistake, and it took me a year to be rid of him. How pathetic!

What would the hive think of me now? What would Ceymi think of me? I've just been hiding here among the ponies for four years, enjoying the luxuries of their way of life, and all the while I've been neglecting my responsibilities. I should be doing everything I can to help the hive, but here I am... turning my back on them. Four years, and I'm not a single step closer to finding my way home. I haven't even tried.

I've failed them.

She shuddered at the thought, despair welling up again. What purpose do I have, now? I've failed my chance to be an Infiltrator. I'd be lucky to be a soldier after this. Surely they'd find something that I could do, even something as lowly as a menial worker. Something, anything would be better than being useless. Anything that could let me help.

Will they even take me back?

Why would they? Four years, and all I've proven is how weak I am.

Shakily, she drew her head back. The motion let in enough light to illuminate the dark gray fur before her eyes, damp to match her own cheeks. She stared numbly, feeling moisture running down her cheek. Spark's forelegs squeezed softly, and she let herself be drawn back in.

And now I'm being comforted by prey, she thought, trying not to sob again. It was bad enough to look so weak, so helpless; it would not have hurt her pride to act so--acting was what she did--but this was no act. It was no lie, no manipulation to build sympathy. I'm being comforted by prey... and I want it. I'm so desperate for approval that I'm actually happy to get some from a pony.

When did I become so selfish?

When she slipped away, she hadn't expected Spark to follow her back to the room, to find her curled up and sniffling on her bed. She certainly hadn't expected him to settle down beside her, or to close his forelegs comfortingly around her. Most of all, she hadn't expected herself to bury her face against his chest, clutching him as she began to sob. Despite how disgusting and distasteful these pony's grabby habits were, how disturbingly squishy their embrace was, how utterly depraved it was to give in to such selfish emotions, she had accepted it eagerly.

If the hive could see me now, they would think me the most pathetic changeling in history. We're supposed to be strong. We're supposed to endure. We take pride in serving the hive, of bettering all changelings, but here I am, crying over my own misfortune.

She squeezed Spark softly, a gesture he echoed, and she felt a burning shame at the comfort it brought. An Infiltrator might be gone from the hive for months, even years, but they endure. They serve selflessly, knowing they have an entire hive depending on them, waiting for them to return. Me though... I just gave up. I couldn't find my way home, so I'm seeking out companionship from my food, instead.

She shuddered again, pushing the thought away. No! I can't keep doing this. I can't keep wallowing in pity. I'm not some weak-willed, pampered pony. I'm a changeling! I'm an Infiltrator! I will not let down the hive!

As her thoughts focused and hardened, she grew more aware of the emotions brushing across her senses; affection, sympathy, concern, all of them so strong and focused. The despair that had filled Spark had vanished as he comforted her, filled now only with the desire to see her happy again. It was calming, but it was more than that. He not only cared for her, he was putting her own comfort ahead of his own--just as she should be doing for her hive. As she tasted the delicious touch of those emotions, she knew just how strong his friendship and devotion was.

She couldn't help a weak smile, the thought encouraging her, stirring her pride. Yes, it was a small accomplishment, but it was an accomplishment all the same. She had done that on her own, and she could do more. If she was a failure, then she would pick herself up and try again. If she were pathetic and worthless, then she would strive not to feel sorry for herself, but to improve herself.

After all, if a pony could do that for her, surely she could do so for her hive.

The surest way to fail the hive is to not try. As long as I'm alive, I will do everything in my power to not fail again. I will better myself. I will find a way home. I will prove that Ceymi was right about me. Things will have to change... but after all, changing is what we do best.

She did not feed that night.

Meadow sat back, smiling silently as Sparks rambled on, darting aimlessly around the sprawl of little parts and half-built projects. He was completely unfocused, almost lost in a daze, and yet, so amazingly happy. She'd stopped trying to make sense of the fragments of rambled topics. Instead, she just listened to the surprised happiness in his voice, her hoof idly pushing at the blade of the half-built toy flying machine he had been working on.

It's good it worked out this way, Meadow thought. He had shown up clear-headed for once, and once that realization had sunk into his head, he had opened up. It was such good luck that he had been picked, although from what she had heard, luck might have had some help. By the sound of it, Crimson Heart had seen the opportunity as well. She had seen Spark, for so long suffering the disappointment of rejection, with a real prospect of being adopted for once, and had talked him up to the couple. Good on her. Meadow silently offered a thought of grateful thanks to her; it was a meaningless gesture when given toward a pony, who could never sense it, much less absorb it, but it seemed like the right thing to do.

Suddenly, he had his forelegs wrapped around her in a tight hug, eyes watering even as he nearly laughed with happiness. "I'm going to miss you."

She hugged him back, leaning her head down next to his. "I'm going to miss you, too," she said. It was sad to see him go. She still thought of him as hers, but at the same time, it was nice to see him happy. Maybe it was a bit more of that pony sentimentality, as distasteful as it was, but she couldn't bring herself to mind it at the moment. It wasn't going to matter for long, after all.

"I hope I can see you again," he said, still holding the hug. "I'd write, but, well... I know you don't much care for writing letters." He chuckled weakly, as if nervous that she might take offense at it.

She chuckled along with him. "For you, I can make an exception."

Soon he was hurrying around the room again, throwing things into a few bags and small cases. He hardly made a dent in the collection of parts that had long since sprawled out from his half of the room to dominate most of the open space. Several years of collecting "useful parts" had turned up quite a bit of junk-turned-treasure, and he was quickly sorting through it to grab the choicest bits.

It wasn't much later that he was hugging her again, almost crying as he said goodbye, despite the happiness that still filled him.

Then he was gone, leaving her sitting alone in a room that suddenly felt so empty.

Creak. Pop.

The sound of the building settling in the night was the only sound that Meadow had heard over the past half-hour. She lay still on her bed, staring up at the shadows on the ceiling as the time passed.

That should be long enough.

Tossing aside the covers, she slipped out of bed, retrieving her saddlebags from the closet. She had already packed them, but one thing she had intentionally left for the last moment. She opened a flap, pulling out a small bundle. Setting the writing kit on the end table, she unrolled the small scroll of parchment, and a flicker of movement dropping from it caught her attention. Reflexively, her magic reached out, snagging the falling object.

It was that little compass, dangling from its cord. She watched it, turning slowly as it dangled there, a little smile catching on her lips. Gently, she set it aside, selected a quill, and started to write.

She didn't really feel the need to say goodbye, although she noted it would be the socially expected thing to do, and in a way, that was reason enough. More importantly, though, they would want to follow her, to find her. These ponies had such extreme amounts of sympathy and compassion, even towards strangers, that she didn't doubt for a moment that they would want to find her and "help" her. Thus, the letter; she didn't want to completely drive them away--having contacts was always useful--but she didn't want them trying to find her, trying to bring her back, actions with good intents that could only serve to hold her back.

When she finished, she sat discontentedly, eyes wandering over the page repeatedly. Eventually they wandered over to the compass again. She stared at it for several long moments, deep in thought, before the smile returned. She leaned forward, quickly writing more at the end of her letter, and signing it. Rolling it up, she placed it atop her pillow. There.

She walked over to her window, tucking the writing kit back into her bag, and setting the compass gently on top. Outside, everything was cloaked in shadow, the Nightmare looking down from her full moon to cast her cool light over the world. Meadow opened the window, the brisk summer night breeze meeting her. She didn't need to, she could just fire-portal her way off to the woods; it'd be easier, but somehow it just felt wrong. If she was setting out on her own, she wanted to start it off right. Besides, I should save my magic, she rationalized.

There was only one final thing to do. She turned her head to look back over herself. For a pony, she looked almost perfect: tall, lean, athletic, graceful, confident. Almost perfect. Only one detail was missing. Flame flickered across her form, and she blinked at the flash of light. When her eyes adjusted to the dark, she could see the compass rose emblazoned on her flank. As counterfeit as a changeling cutie-mark might be, there was something about it that simply felt right.

No more moping. No more lazing. I will find my own way.

Smiling, she slipped through the window and into the night.

Dear Crimson Heart, and all the ponies of the Rising Sun Orphanage,

It's probably obvious by now, but I have left. I had to go. As wonderful as it is here, and as much as I will miss all of you, it is time for me to leave, to make my own way in the world. There is no point in me looking for adoption, not when I know my family is out there, expecting me. While I doubt I can find them on my own, they wouldn't want me to simply sit idle, waiting to be found. I need to get out in the world, to take care of myself. You have all prepared me as well as I could be for this task, but now I need to do it myself.

I earned my cutie mark tonight. It appeared just as I prepared to leave. I know now why it never showed before. It represents the one thing I could not find here: I am meant to find my own way in the world.

Your friend,

Meadow Song

Chapter 7: Perspectives

Chapter 7: Perspectives

Meadow found herself terrified.

Oh, she had been scared before, but never anything like this. She'd been scared of being hurt, or killed, but those had been simple, transient fears of the moment. Even more persistent fears, such as the worry of being discovered, or of failing the hive, were things she had some degree of influence over. This, however, was a fear for more than just herself. It was an indomitable, existential terror.

It was the city of Manehattan.

Her legs felt weak beneath her, her chest tight, almost strangling her, while her wide eyes scanned over the terrible sight of the city sprawling out before her. It was almost beyond comprehension. Sure, she had heard all the numbers thrown about during their studies in geography, she had heard the rough size of the populations of the various Equestrian cities, but it hadn't prepared her for this. Somewhere around five or six digits, numbers just seem to lose their meaning.

Seeing the vast size of the city made her feel so incredibly tiny and insignificant.

At that moment, every single warning Ceymi had ever pounded into her head was validated. All her doubts were banished. As she looked over the sight, she felt the crushing weight of how horribly true every word had been. The scale of Equestria was beyond anything she had imagined.

The spires of the hive, the grandest structures she had known, were dwarfed by several of the buildings, each reaching up like a monument to Equestrian might. Some were so large that they likely could have housed most of the hive within their expanses. Above the city, something vaguely resembling an elongated egg slowly floated through the sky, easily the size of one of the hive's spires. Hundreds, thousands of other buildings covered the landscape, with countless ponies moving among them. The hive, once seeming so huge and bustling, now seemed insignificant by comparison.

And this was only one city, of many.

If Equestria were roused to fight, the hive would be crushed. It didn't matter that these ponies were soft. The hive's soldiers could kill a dozen ponies each and more for each of their own that fell, and it wouldn't be enough. Equestria would hardly even feel the sting.

Meadow wanted to just stop there. No, she wanted to run and hide, to never again see the visual manifestation of the doom that hung over her, threatening everything she knew.

But she couldn't. As tempting as it was to flee, as much as she could reason that it was a risk for a poorly-trained and isolated Infiltrator to enter such a dangerous situation, it had to be done. She had to go in there, establish herself, put her training to use. If she could not handle this, then she had no right to even think that she could be an Infiltrator.

At least, if things were to go bad, she could try to fire-portal away. If she couldn't... well, she understood now why Ceymi had asked if they were willing to give up their lives to protect the hive.

The thought calmed her, a resolve growing to displace the fear.

She would keep the hive safe.

On shaky hooves, she walked toward the city.

Just stay calm. I can do this.

Despite her own reassurances, repeated many times over, Meadow could not calm her nerves. There were so many ponies here. She was still on the outer edges of the city, and the streets were filled with colorful ponies trotting about on their daily business. She instinctively tried to keep her distance, but the sheer numbers made that all but impossible. Every time she moved aside for one pony, she nearly ran into two others, making the situation even worse. Already, she was finding it hard to act calm and collected. Her head was tucked down, ears pinned back, eyes roaming wildly around the crowd.

Any one of them could be the one to see through my disguise, she thought. There're so many of them, how can I hope to deceive them all? Tricking one pony could be challenging enough. Hundreds of ponies, though? Each with their own ways of thinking, each with their own knowledge, each requiring a slightly different manner of handling? These were no foals, like in the orphanage, and here she was, walking into a giant crowd of them. Thousands upon thousands of ponies, all around her, through every minute of the day. Thousands of pairs of eyes, each one looking for any flaw in her act...

Keep calm. Think. Plan.

That thought, as good as it was, was shattered as a stallion she hadn't noticed bumped into her. She jerked back, giving a reflexive hiss. At least, it would have been a hiss, but in her current state of barely-restrained panic, it came out as a loud whine. The pony looked at her, his expression curious... for about all of a second, before he had passed her completely, his attention turned back to his travels.

Meadow shuddered, quickly shuffling off to take refuge in the gap of an alleyway. Her legs quivered faintly from the adrenaline coursing through her, her heart pounding loudly in her ears. Slightly removed from the crowd in the street, she leaned wearily against the wall, taking deep, calming breaths.

As she did, she watched the ponies from a distance, not as individuals, but as a crowd, a herd. The purposeful shuffle, the stream of ponies flowing like water, it had a vaguely calming effect. Viewed from such a perspective, there was a strange sense of familiarity to it all. All those ponies, traveling back and forth, hundreds, thousands of them all flowing through Equestria, working together, there were certainly parallels that she could draw to the hive--even if the scale was vastly different. It was just enough familiarity to offer a hope of comfort for her nerves, which she clung to eagerly.

When she felt a little more clear-headed, she began to consider herself. How should she proceed?

Her training, as incomplete as it had been, readily offered up an answer. When acting away from the hive, particularly when infiltrating a community, there were priorities. The final goal was typically to be the focus of as much positive emotion as possible, particularly love, so as to bring that energy back to the hive, but one had to get there first. Some operations, particularly by more experienced Infiltrators, could move swiftly, but a more cautious approach--and Meadow was feeling cautious!--started much more simply.

Survival.

Everything else could work upward from there, but ensuring survival was crucial. Fortunately, it was also a fairly easy task. Basic survival consisted of only a few, simple needs. The most immediate need was simple: Sustenance. Water and food. The former was so commonly available as to be little concern. Physical food was also easy. If nothing else, she could go to that park she had seen on the way in, or one like it, and munch on some leaves.

That just left emotional food. That was the one thing she absolutely needed, and that made it the highest priority. Fortunately, she still had plenty of energy from the orphanage, and the half-day walk from Mareville to her current location in Manehattan hadn't taken much out of her. So long as she was light on the magic, she'd be good for a few weeks.

At least she wouldn't need very much. Assuming she could make a friend by then, she would be able to draw enough affection to sustain herself.

So, food is the number-one priority. What comes next?

After basic survival came elements that were not quite as necessary for life, but which would serve to help establish herself and aid in her hunting. Better food, shelter, some of the many luxuries these ponies took for granted. To get those, she needed money. To get money... she needed a job.

She huffed out an annoyed breath. It was still tempting to see "working for ponies" as a blow to her pride, but she at least recognized it as a means to an end. With all those little extras, she could bring up her social standing, increase her desirability, and if all went well, gain more friends and affection.

Then, after she had herself established, had developed and demonstrated her skills... then she could try to find her way home. She could return, proud of her accomplishments, having shown that she has the skill needed to serve the hive.

So. First step: make a friend. It was a simple plan. All she needed to do was socialize with some ponies, use her well-trained charm and manipulation to convince them to give her their friendship, and enjoy the well-earned meal.

There was only one problem with that plan.

How do I start?

At the orphanage, it had been easy; there were a good number of foals there, all condensed into one area, most of whom enjoyed simple games. It made it easy to engage them, having a common interest. For adults, however, she had no idea what interests they might have, or in what settings they tended to socialize.

Watching the crowd didn't help. Few of the ponies said much of anything, though some would occasionally stop and chat for a bit before continuing on, or call out greetings as they passed.

A bulky-looking stallion just down the street seemed to be one of the more commonly-greeted ponies. He stood at the front of a shop, currently offloading a large variety of boxes from a cart, amid frequent breaks to chat with some of the passing ponies. He certainly seemed to be fairly popular. Such a pony must have a good idea of where and how to meet new ponies. As loath as Meadow was to admit that she could use the help of a pony, she had to acknowledge that it was true.

Taking a few moments to plan her attack, and waiting for a small break in the crowd, she approached the pony.

"Excuse me," she said politely, and he, holding a box in his forelegs, looked back over his shoulder to see the young unicorn standing there. "I'm new to town, and I'm not really sure where everything is just yet. Do you know of any good places here to socialize?"

"Uhh," was his immediate reply, echoing the uncertainty she felt in his emotion. Setting down the box, he turned to face her more squarely. "Well, uh, I'm not sure about places for a young filly, to tell the truth."

Well, that's not helpful. "I'm not that young," she objected. "Surely you know some places? Don't you have any places you go to socialize?"

He gave an awkward shrug. "Well, most of the time I meet ponies here, where I work."

Curiously, there was something in his tone and emotion that hinted to Meadow of evasiveness. "Only most of the time?"

He hesitated a moment before replying. "Well, when I'm not handling the store, sometimes I'll hit the Sweetfire Pub." He gestured vaguely with a hoof, then quickly added, "But I doubt that's what you're looking for."

That's better than any other option I have right now, she thought. Even if it did prove as unsuitable as the stallion seemed to think it was, it might give her a better idea of what adult ponies did for social activities. Running blind could only lead to trouble.

It took a bit of effort, but she eventually coaxed directions out of the reluctant stallion and was on her way. Having had the chance to calm down and observe the crowd, the number of ponies wasn't quite as daunting as it had been. There were plenty of gaps for her to weave her way through the crowd without getting too close to anypony, although she did have the strange new experience of her fur standing on end, which seemed to be a physical response to nervousness. It was possibly more subtle than anxiously buzzing one's wings, as she might have been doing at that very moment had she been in her natural form, but this pony response felt much stranger.

Regardless, she was happy to step into the pub and leave the crowd behind. That happiness faded immediately, however, when she saw that inside was the polar opposite of outside; while the streets had dozens of ponies wandering about, the pub was almost empty, and certainly not what she would consider "social." Two stallions sat at tables on opposite ends of the small room, both looking very much not talkative, while a mare stood behind a long counter, cleaning some mugs. It was an almost depressing scene.

Maybe the other ponies were scared off by the flaming mug painted on the sign outside. As far as drinks went, she didn't think fire would be very refreshing.

Or maybe it's so empty because she was still in the outskirts of the city? Perhaps a pub in the heart of the city would have more ponies, and by extension, more opportunities for her?

Lacking any better ideas, she hoped that was the case.

An hour more of walking saw her in a much different part of the city. Unlike the outskirts, which had been at least somewhat like the towns she had been in before, the center of the city was growing increasingly dense and vertical. The structures were still all in that strange, blocky, pony style of architecture, but now many of them towered over the street. They weren't as tall as some of the massive towers further on, yet some were still comparable to the hive's spires, although much broader.

It didn't take long to find another pub, ‘Wheatstalk's Pub’ according to the sign, which was also decorated by a pair of (non-flaming) mugs. Unlike the previous pub, it even had windows, glowing softly in the slowly dimming light of the evening. So far, this one looks more promising.

As she stepped inside, the impression held. It was easily twice the size of the other pub, and while not completely filled with ponies, it was much further along the way to it, and the ponies seemed much more social and happy. That was good; unhappy ponies might be won over by sympathy, but jovial ponies tended to be friendly without any effort needed.

She carefully made her way into the room, aiming for one of the unoccupied chairs along the long counter, and seated herself with a slight groan. She hadn't quite realized how tired her hooves were, and she grumbled silently to herself about how soft she was getting to feel sore after little over half a day of walking. She was just making a mental note to change up her exercise routine when the light-tan earth pony stallion behind the counter approached her.

"Can I get you something to drink?" he asked, the sensation of his concern suddenly hitting her senses. He seemed suspicious of her, for some reason. Or perhaps suspicious was too strong, more like... worried?

She glanced over to the side, noting that several of the other ponies had drinks. Her eyes darted over the various signs behind the counter, including many hoof-written drink names. Immediately seeing one she recognized, she said, "Cider?"

"We got a couple. You want Big Apple or Hard Luck Cider?" he asked, concern growing a touch stronger.

She blinked. "Um... I... don't know? What's the difference?"

"Big Apple, then," he said, suddenly amused for some strange reason. As he grabbed a mug, he added, "That'll be three bits."

Ah, right. He wasn't some host entertaining ponies, this was like one of those "restaurant" things, where ponies bought prepared food. "Oh, um, I actually don't have any bits on me."

The stallion stopped midway through getting her drink. Setting the mug back down, he sighed and folded his forelegs on the counter. "Look, miss, you're cute and all, but I'm not running a charity. Can't you get a few bits from your parents or something?"

"My mom's dead."

She hardly realized what she had said before she felt the shock go through the stallion. She decided to attribute it to instinctive manipulation rather than simply being an unthinking reply, a little lie to herself made much easier by his startled reaction. "O-oh. I... What about your--" He cut himself off, evidently thinking better of what he was about to say. "I mean, do you have any kind of guardian taking care of you?"

She almost asked why she would need a guard until she recalled Crimson Heart having used the term before. "Oh. No, I can take care of myself."

"Of course you can," he said, eyes closed as he rubbed a hoof against the bridge of his nose, evidently finding some frustration with what she had said, though she couldn't imagine why. "Surely you have a job, then, so you can get money to buy food and drink with?"

"No," she answered, hesitantly. "I was actually planning on looking for a job."

She was answered with a deeper sigh, the stallion grinding his hoof a bit harder against his own face. "Please tell me you have a place to stay."

"Oh, of course," she lied, not wanting to upset the strangely-concerned pony.

He was silent now, apart from a few quiet murmurs of what sounded to be ‘stupid,’ paired with the light clopping sound of him gently thumping his hoof against his head. Ponies have such weird methods to express frustration, she thought. It must be hard, having to physically demonstrate your emotions to make up for being unable to sense them. Potentially painful even, it seems...

After a few moments of this, the stallion groaned a little, letting his hoof fall back to the counter as a resigned feeling faintly radiated from him, mirrored by the drooping of his ears. "Alright. I'm not running a charity, but... oh Celestia, I hope this isn't a mistake. Look." He fixed her with his eyes, expression and feelings a curious mix of both annoyance and sympathy. "I can't afford to hire a new employee, and I don't need one, but I might be able to find you a little work. Not much, an hour or so a night doing whatever I can find for you, paid with a meal and maybe a few bits extra. That sound good?"

She smiled. "That sounds perfect!" Half a day and I've already got a job. I'll be set in no time!

"Okay then. But I do expect you to actually work. Don't make me regret this, okay?"

"I won't!" she assured him. "I'm a very hard worker."

He considered her for a few moments before letting out a low sigh. Filling the mug, he set it down before her. "So what's your name, anyway?"

"Meadow Song," she replied, before clutching the mug in her hooves and taking a long drink of the delicious cider.

"Mine's Sunshine Wheatstalk," he replied, which made her look at him curiously. That's a strange name. I mean, I think it is. It sounds like two ponies collided and got their names stuck together.

Evidently noticing her curiosity, the stallion rolled his eyes. "It's a family thing," he said, to which she just gave a simple nod. "Anyway, enjoy the cider. I'll, um... I'll let you know when I figure out something for you to do."

He walked off, mumbling to himself, while Meadow just smiled happily. This was going well.

The evening was a unique mixture of opportunities and awkwardness. The pub quickly grew busier as the time grew later, and once the sky was dark, the place was rather packed with ponies, the air filled with a din of conversation. There were so many that she would have her pick of who to approach.

This led to the first point of awkwardness: how to approach them. Observation did little to help. With all the noise, she couldn't listen in on conversations without being obvious, and she couldn't tell if any pony greeting another was already an acquaintance, or if they were meeting for the first time. Still, she needed to try something, and lacking any better idea of how to proceed, she decided to start simply--by walking up to a seemingly-receptive pony and saying "hello."

She found it somewhat shocking how effective such a simple method proved to be. The ponies she had approached, a pair of young pegasi stallions, both greeted her happily. After making introductions, they soon started chatting, evidently happy to spend time talking with a stranger. She had little knowledge of what to talk about, but thankfully they solved that themselves when they started talking about sports. That made it almost too easy. She mentioned having played a little bit as a filly, and how she had always been interested in learning more, and the two launched into an enthusiastic description of the games they liked the most and the recent sporting events. All she had to do was ask a few general, easy questions, maybe offer a flattering comment or two, and they were happy to talk on and on.

When they had left, she found her way into the company of a well-groomed unicorn mare, who was evidently looking to relax after a long day of work. With just a small expression of sympathy, she got her talking about that work, dealing with various tasks at the city hall. It soon developed to a full grumbling rant about all the chaos there, the constant appeals for official action, often directly contradictory to other appeals, and all other manners of government. Meadow, with only a rudimentary knowledge of government beyond "do what the Queen says," could do little but offer sympathy. Despite the strength of the ranting, the mare's mood improved by the moment, a soft affection growing as Meadow listened to her problems.

After that, she tried mixing things up a bit. The next pony she talked with, a particularly strong-looking earth pony mare, Meadow echoed some of the earlier conversations, hoping to be more interesting as a result. It worked wonderfully for the discussion of sports, which seemed to be an interest the earth pony shared. That took a sharp dive when she repeated some of the matters of government she had heard earlier. The mare seemed outright offended, firing back several sharp questions that Meadow had no answer for. Meadow offered the excuse that it was "just something I had heard," but the earth pony replied just as Meadow would have to someone offering such a poor reason, saying that she shouldn't just repeat things she had no understanding of. She also followed up by bringing up several pieces of information that Meadow, ears drooping as she shuffled awkwardly, had to admit she had not known of.

Meadow ended up apologizing before walking away, somewhat ashamed of her failure. After seeing how readily friendly ponies could be, it was rather embarrassing to have so thoroughly upset one. Right, don't talk about politics, she thought as she slipped away to the back of the pub. At least not until I have some idea of what politics are...

Despite that one awkward moment, most of the night went well. She socialized with other ponies, most of whom were quite friendly. Still, she did feel a little out-of-place. Most of the ponies here were getting drinks, and some even had food and snacks. Her cider was long gone, and she did not yet have the bits to get more. One particularly friendly mare had gotten her another cider, but that hadn't lasted long. She eventually caught Wheatstalk and quietly asked him for a mug of water, just so she'd look like she fit in more. He had rolled his eyes in reply, but she caught the hint of amusement as he fetched the drink for her.

Armed with the prop, she felt a little more at ease. At the very least, she wouldn't have to repeat the explanation of how she didn't have any bits to pay for a drink. Judging from Wheatstalk's earlier reaction, being without money was a bad thing.

As the night went on, Wheatstalk did follow through on finding her some work to do. It wasn't much, cleaning a few dishes one time, carrying out a few drinks when he was too busy another time. It did get in the way of socializing, a bit, but only infrequently. In a way, it actually seemed to help a little. Carrying out the drinks let her introduce herself to a few more ponies, who were quite happy to chat with her, and for some strange reason, some of the ponies seemed to feel positively about seeing her helping Wheatstalk.

By the end of the night, many hours later, she was feeling quite a bit better about her prospects. The casual affection given to a friendly stranger was hardly filling, but it would sustain her. She even got a decent meal out of the night, and a couple bits. Things were going well.

"Closing time," Wheatstalk called out, starting to usher everypony out. When she tried to protest, he just shook his head. "Flash Fire and I can do all the cleaning up, have for quite a while now. You should go get some sleep." A sudden hint of concern flashed across her senses, and he again asked, "You do have a place to stay, don't you?"

"Of course," she said, with an encouraging smile. She didn't want to upset the pony that was giving her this opportunity, after all.

He continued to stare at her for a couple moments, as if doubting her, but he eventually sighed and nodded. "Well, okay then. Good night, Meadow."

"Good night, Sunshine!" she called back happily as she started to trot off, earning a faint chuckle in reply.

A place to stay...

In the most technical sense, she had not lied to him, which simply made it a particularly good lie. She had actually spotted a place that seemed a decent prospect to stay for the night, if nothing else had presented itself, so what she had said was not untrue. As nothing had, she at least had the satisfaction of knowing her backup planning had been useful.

As she stepped into the alley, however, she knew this was not at all what the pony would consider when asking somepony if they had a place to stay.

She looked around cautiously as she slowly walked deeper into the alley. Only when she was satisfied that she was alone did she look into settling herself there. A few minutes of rearranging boxes and crates left a makeshift shelter. It even had a couple flattened boxes as a sleeping pad. Even as she looked down at it, satisfied with her craft, she couldn't help but feel disappointed that she would be sleeping on the hard ground, out in the cold, instead of tucked into a nice, soft, warm bed. Hopefully, she'd be able to sleep well.

The thought was met with a sudden rising anger. Stupid ponies are rubbing off on me, she grumbled to herself as she laid down heavily in her tiny shelter. How soft have I gotten, to whine about this? I've got a private shelter to myself, no drones are going to come stumbling through and wake me up, and the ground isn't any harder than it was in the hive. I'm getting spoiled by these ponies' luxuries.

Maybe it's better that I'm staying here, instead of some cozy, comfy, frivolous pony place. She lay her head down, giving a faint sigh. I can't let myself get used to being a pony. I need to be strong, to endure. This... this is good. Yes. A reminder of what I am: a changeling, an Infiltrator, someling who can easily endure such petty little annoyances.

Then she shifted her position, trying to relieve the uncomfortable pressure on her shoulder. Though it would help if this stupid pony body wasn't so soft and squishy…

After a few days--and a few uncomfortable nights that made her question her own resolution--the elation of her easy early success was wearing off. As much as she reminded herself that her familiarity with pony luxury was leaving her soft, she couldn't help but feel a bit of embarrassment and failure when she snuck off to nibble a few leaves from a bush in the park or took a drink from the sink in the pub's restroom. The one free meal and drink each day seemed less like a nice treat, and more like a reminder of what “should be.” The thought irritated her.

It irritated her almost as much as her lack of progress. She was sustaining herself, but that was all she could claim, and as time went on, the thought grew more prominent in her mind. She didn't dare become complacent; she couldn't bear to let herself down like that, again. Worse than a lack of progress, however, were the signs that she might be regressing, instead. Sure, she hadn't been sleeping well, and sure, the quick cleanings she did in the restroom were well short of proper bathing, but it was still disconcerting. She needed to push herself, to make progress happen.

To that goal, she gathered the small number of bits she had earned and set off for the nearby spa.

As she went, she reminded her guilty conscience that she was doing it for practical reasons. She needed to look her best, in order to give the best impression. Nopony was going to be impressed by a stranger that looked like they had slept in an alley. Ponies have all sorts of strange standards about appearance and presentation, and altogether far too many social rules.

The wonderful feeling of slipping into the warm water of the bath did little to help her mental conflict. It did, however, do wonders for her sore muscles. She settled with comforting her conscience with the fact that she could have lounged there all day, reasoning that a mere half-hour of blissful soaking was showing admirable restraint.

After another half-hour of beautifying in the spa staff's skilled hooves, she felt much more prepared for an evening of winning over strangers. She was clean, perfectly cared for, and beautiful--by the standards of ponies, of course. It was as ideal a situation as she could hope for to impress new friends, and as Ceymi had taught them, even the most delicious love comes from two ponies who once were simply a couple of new friends.

With so much effort--and all her money--put into presenting a good appearance, it was rather disappointing how little of an effect it had. Sure, some ponies seemed a little more receptive of her, initial impressions slightly better than they had been, but it wasn't the great change she had hoped for. There was a compliment or two on her looks, but the conversations largely went as they had before. She did her best to hide her disappointment, reasoning that any improvement, however slight, was good. Despite that, she couldn't help but feel a hit to her pride. Such effort should have a much greater effect on her reception, she thought, so if she made that effort and still ended up lacking...

Her determination waned as the day went on, and by evening she spent most of the time sitting sullenly at the bar, sipping at the evening's cider and distractedly wondering why ponies called the long counter a bar when it resembled nothing of the sort. It kept her mind off more important matters, and while she reminded herself that this was a reason to put in even more effort, she felt the short break was more than deserved.

And that's how it begins, she thought to herself wryly as she took another sip, then grimaced faintly. Oh, stop that. I'm not so weak-willed as to wallow in self-pity all night. I'll just finish this cider, and then I'll get back to it. She took another sip, although a much smaller one, almost as if she had no desire to finish her drink just yet.

"You look like you're not having a very fun evening," a voice said from beside her, and she turned to see a red-coated stallion leaning against the bar. She imagined he must be rather attractive by pony standards, a fit and athletic earth pony, and he was smiling softly to her. "Sorry. It's just kind of surprising to see such a pretty mare looking so sad here."

At least the effort is getting some notice, if nothing more. Despite the slightly bitter thoughts toward the questionable expenditure of her limited funds, she gave a lopsided smile, enough to give the impression of mixed emotions; playing suddenly friendly would probably seem like a jarringly abrupt change in behavior, one that could only raise questions. "Just a little bored and lonely. The night hasn't quite been going as I'd hoped."

"How did you hope it would go?"

She shrugged. "I'd hoped to at least meet somepony to talk with. Socialize, that kind of thing."

He glanced down at himself. "Well, I happen to be somepony, last I checked," he said, giving a slightly goofy smile.

She played along, offering a faint chuckle and smile at the lame joke.

The stallion was holding out a hoof. "So I'm Cherry Runner. What's your name?"

She stifled a grimace, and instead politely shook his hoof. What a ridiculous name. What kind of special talent do you have with a name like that, running produce around town? Did your parents hate you or something? Rather than voicing any of this, she kept her smile even, replying, "I'm Meadow Song." And I've got a better name than you. Hah.

He sat back, oblivious to her thoughts. "So what brings you here?" he asked, his emotions curiously hopeful. It seemed she wasn't the only one hoping to find someone friendly here.

"Well, I was kind of hoping to find some ponies to spend time with," she said. "Maybe make some friends."

That hint of hopefulness grew, even as he looked a little suspicious. "Make some friends? Surely a pretty young mare like you must have plenty of friends already?"

She gave her best impression of faint embarrassment at the flattery, despite being rather annoyed that she did not. "Well, I'm rather new to town. I don't really know anypony here, so it's been kind of lonely." She trailed off, hoping to draw some sympathy. Curiously, he seemed more excited than sympathetic, but interest was interest.

Cherry Runner proved to be easy and entertaining to talk with. He even bought a pair of ciders for them, and they chatted away about all sorts of topics. Sports was the easiest, as he apparently played hoofball himself, and with only a little prompting from her was happy to talk all about it. He might be bragging a bit at how highly he appraised his own skills, but she didn't mind; it obviously made him happy, and happy ponies tended to make the best food.

Their talk was interrupted by some work, passing out a few drinks and cleaning a few dishes that had piled up during the busy evening. She was quite happy when she returned to find him still waiting for her. She must have made some impression on him.

"I didn't know you worked here, too," he said over his mug as she again sat beside him.

"Only a little," she admitted. "Wheatstalk's giving me a bit of work. It gets me a little money."

"Ah," he said, nodding. "And here I thought he was your dad or something."

"Oh, no. He's just..." He's what? she considered. She hadn't really thought too much on it, after all. Ponies were typically easy to figure out, after all. Soft-hearted, easily exploited, generous to a fault... "I think he just wanted to help me out."

"Well that's nice of him," Cherry replied. He seemed strangely happy by this.

Actually, all of his emotions seemed slightly strange, unlike that of the other ponies she had talked with. He had the same happiness at the conversation, but then things differed. He seemed curiously excited by it, while the sensation of affection, normally at least somewhat developed when a pony had this degree of happiness, was still rather weak. She might not be that widely versed in pony behavior just yet, but it still struck her as rather un-pony-like.

Kind of like her own feelings, actually.

The thought slammed home, her eyes widening a bit before she forced herself to act normal, despite her heart suddenly pounding away in her chest. What if...? She eyed him as subtly as she could. What if he seems so unlike the other ponies because he isn't one?

It was such an exciting thought. There were other changelings out there, hidden behind their pony guises. Even to another changeling, a skilled Infiltrator would be impossible to distinguish from a normal pony. It wasn't inconceivable that she could encounter another disguised changeling, one who was attracted to the open, social mingling of the pub for the same reason she had.

Unlike her, however, it wouldn't be a stranded nymph. A fully trained Infiltrator would be completely capable of operating on their own. He would know exactly how to enter Equestria, and of course, how to find his way back to the hive.

Home.

She was almost shuddering with excitement at the possibility. If he was a changeling, everything would be solved. She just needed to establish that he actually was, in fact, a changeling, and let him know that she was, too. Of course, it wasn't so simple as just asking, "So, are you a changeling, too?" While simple and to-the-point, it would make things... awkward, were he to end up being just a strange pony. Fortunately, there were somewhat more subtle ways, including a simple trick Ceymi had taught all of the nymphs, back when they had first practiced their shapeshifting.

Her horn lit up to levitate her mug to her lips again, and at the same time, she flashed her eyes. It was a subtle bit of shapeshifting, letting the magic falter for a moment and let her--his--natural eye color show through for a moment. To a pony, it would look as is her eyes had flickered blue in time with her magic, curious but not alarmingly so, but a changeling would recognize the trick. It was a silent way of signaling another Infiltrator, in case someling were to encounter them in a new, unknown disguise.

"Woah," was the immediate, hushed reaction from Cherry Runner, matched by a faint flash of surprise. She looked to him, eyes wide and ears perked in anticipation.

"...That was kind of creepy," he said. When her ears drooped in disappointment, he suddenly realized what he had just said. "I mean, it's kind of cool, too! Just... a little... different." He smiled awkwardly as he raised his forelegs, holding his hooves just barely apart. "Just a tiny bit."

She gave a weak smile at what seemed to be an attempted joke, in order to hide her disappointment. Of course he's not a changeling, she thought bitterly. That would have been too easy. We can't have that, now...

"Hey, I'm sorry," Cherry said, a little concern entering his feelings. "I didn't mean to... you know..."

She sighed a little, mumbling. "It's just something that happens sometimes when I'm not focusing on my magic."

"Ah, that makes sense," he said with a nod, happily accepting the lie in an attempt to smooth things over.

Meadow took another drink. Ugh, I'm so stupid, she mentally grumbled. There are what, a dozen or two Infiltrators in Equestria, if that? Yet here I am, thinking I just blindly ran into one, and get my hopes up over something so unlikely. I should have known better. Even if his emotions were a little strange, a changeling wouldn't have been feeling even a tiny bit of affection for a pony. I'm such an idiot.

She tried to keep up the conversation, though her heart wasn't in it anymore. Fortunately, Cherry seemed more than capable of keeping it going all on his own, leaving her to just nod and offer a faked smile every now and then, maybe slipping in a little comment of her own. She barely even registered what he was talking about, lost in her own thoughts. I should have known right away. If I hadn't been blinded by my own excitement, I would have seen it wasn't true. I've spent too much time around ponies, I'm used to thinking of everypony--everyone--as being just like them. Half-blind, unable to sense the emotions of the creature they're speaking to, only able to guess off crude mannerisms and expressions. She cast a glance at Cherry, feigning a smile. And here I was, thinking just like them, not even thinking that, if he were a changeling, he'd be able to sense my emotions as well. A changeling couldn't help but notice how excited I got, but him? There wasn't even a glimmer of curiosity, because he didn't even know it happened.

No, the odd emotions aren't because he's a changeling. He's just strange.

Stupid ponies.

She was interrupted from her thoughts by a sudden change in topics.

"Hey, it looks like the place is shutting down soon," Cherry said, moving closer to slip a foreleg around her shoulder. The gesture still drew a sense of displeasure, but the years had tempered it from utter rage and disgust to mere annoyance, particularly with the knowledge that it was a gesture of comfort and friendship. Friendship was, after all, what she was looking for. "You want to head out? We could go to my place, I think you'd like it."

She smiled, and this time it was genuine. "Really? Yes, that sounds perfect!"

Soon they were out in the street, walking toward his apartment. Her pride, so recently crushed by the day's events, was swelling again. She'd just met this stallion a few hours ago, and already made enough of an impression to be invited back to his home. His emotions might be a little strange for a pony--she could work on that, of course--but he must consider her a good friend already.

The thought of potentially spending the night indoors was, despite her concerns of growing soft, a rather pleasant one. I wonder if he has a second bed I could use? she pondered. Or a nice, comfy couch. I could make do nicely with that.

The apartment proved to be quite nice and located in one of the upper floors of a building quite close to the pub. It was a well-furnished place, decorated in warm colors that the ponies seemed to consider comforting--it still held nothing on the grey-and-green motif of the hive, Meadow thought--and she was quite happy to see that it did, in fact, have a good-sized couch.

Cherry gestured to the couch. "Grab a seat. I'll get us a couple of drinks."

She did, reclining back against the soft cushions. Yes, this would do nicely. She grinned happily as Cherry returned, carrying a pair of bottles held in the crook of a foreleg. He sat beside her, again slipping his foreleg around her shoulders. Inwardly, she sighed in annoyance, but she knew it was a sign of affection for ponies, and as such, she slid a foreleg around him, as well. In response, he turned to face her more directly, his other foreleg moving to hug her. It was a little surprising, she hadn't expected him to show so much affection, particularly when the feelings of such she could sense from him were still so weak. Plenty of excitement, but only a fairly weak affection.

The hug was a little strange, too. It wasn't just a simple hold and squeeze, as she had been familiar with. Instead, he was slowly moving his forelegs, his fleshy body rubbing against hers, squishing in ways that made her faintly nauseous to think of. Hugging could be weird enough without such a vivid reminder of just how squishy and disgusting this body could be. She hid a grimace as he leaned in, nuzzling at her cheek. Still, it was a sign of affection, and affection was what she needed. She could endure such strangeness, in order to get those tasty emotions.

Her determination lasted right up until he kissed her.

Cherry was abruptly dumped on the floor, while Meadow scrambled away, sputtering. What in Tartarus was that? she thought, spitting as she staggered away. Ugh, I can still taste it! His tongue! Why was his tongue in my mouth?! She cringed and shuddered at the thought, horror and disgust filling her. The hug, that she could deal with, despite the weirdness of it, but this? The freakishly bizarre sensation clung to her mind, so alien and wrong. It felt unclean, as if it clung to her, a completely unnatural violation of everything good and normal. Why would anypony do that? What is wrong with this pony?

Movement caught her attention as Cherry rose to hurry over to her. Horrified, she staggered a couple more steps away, her legs moving unsteadily under the confusion and near-panic coursing through her mind. "Get back!" she growled, starting to make her way to the door.

Instead, he moved forward again, raising a hoof to reach out to her. "Wait, I'm sorry, I didn't--"

As she saw the hoof reaching out, all the shock and horror and disgust coalesced into an absolute rage.

She spun around, horn flaring with green fire. Her eyes flashed blue as the magic of her shapeshifting wavered faintly under the sheer fury of her anger, and the tones of her--his!--natural voice resonated with Meadow's. "Get back!" she snarled, teeth bared, her glowing eyes narrowed. "If you so much as touch me, I will kill you! I'll set this entire building on fire if I have to, just so I can watch you die an agonizing, fiery death!"

By the time she had finished, Cherry had retreated back to the couch, completely shocked and horrified. She didn't wait for a response; instead, she turned, storming out of the apartment, and nearly breaking the door as she magically slammed it shut behind her. She walked rigidly down the hall, quaking with rage and adrenaline. Several ponies peeked out of their doors to see what the noise was all about, but she ignored them. She spat a couple more times as she passed them by, only to make a disgusted face when it didn't help. She swore she could still taste it in her mouth.

Fuming, she stormed her way out of the building. Her anger and disgust roamed about her mind, but one single thought forced its way to the front:
Ponies. Are. So. Weird.

Chapter 8: Shadows of the City

Chapter 8: Shadows of the City

Meadow Song was feeling rather better in the morning. The long sleep had given her time to relax, even if the makeshift bed in the back of an alley was far less comfortable than the couch she had been eying the previous night, and the pair of wooden crates she had furiously reduced to splinters had offered a wonderfully cathartic experience. Now she was calm again, and rested, and able to think clearly. She still didn't understand exactly why that strange pony had done what he had, but she was at least over the fact that he had done it. Mostly.

Her renewed good mood was threatened the moment she stepped into the pub, only to have Wheatstalk stop what he was doing, fold his forelegs over the bar, and stare hard at her. "What did you do last night?"

She flinched a little at the harsh look, even before noticing that his emotions behind the expression were generally concerned, not angry. That did not, however, make the question any easier. Oh, sure, she knew what happened last night, but she couldn't think of anything she had done to have provoked such an angry-sounding question.

Well, I did threaten to kill a pony. Possibly even a whole building full of ponies. Even if he deserved it, I guess that might look... bad.

Bad enough that she certainly wasn't going to admit to it. "I didn't really do anything," she said, trying to act both confused and concerned. "Why?"

He scowled a little, eyes searching her face. It seemed like he wanted to believe her, but couldn't quite do so. "The Guard came looking for you."

Meadow's eyes went wide, a cold surge rushing through her. They know! The rising panic was promptly quashed. No, they can't know. Nopony even knows what a changeling is, much less that I am one. Still, the fact that the Guard had come looking for her was alarming.

"What did they want?" she asked, voice wavering a little.

"Didn't say," Wheatstalk said, sounding slightly annoyed. "But I've known Shield for years, he's come here many times looking to find somepony I might know, and I've never seen him that serious." He pointed a hoof to the stool closest to him. "So you're going to sit your flank down and tell me everything that happened after you left while we wait for him to come back by."

She didn't want to, but she didn't see any way out of it. Reluctantly, she sat, trying to think of where to start. "Well... I left with that Cherry Runner guy I'd been talking with--"

Wheatstalk sighed in exasperation, raising a hoof to massage at the bridge of his nose. "When I came back to find the both of you gone and your saddlebags still in the back room, I had hoped it wasn't what it looked like. I really thought you'd have better sense than that."

Meadow's ears drooped. "I didn't know what was going to happen," she said quietly. Mentally, she was scolding herself. Cherry's emotions had seemed strange for a pony, she should have taken that as a warning. What would Ceymi have said of a prospective infiltrator neglecting such a significant sign?

In the momentary quiet, she realized that Wheatstalk now seemed slightly confused, and a little more concerned. "And what did happen?"

"We went to his place," she said, shifting uncomfortably; looking vulnerable was a good way of stirring up sympathy, and if things were as bad as they looked, she could use all the sympathy she could get. "I thought we'd just hang out, talk some more, but then he got all huggy."

Wheatstalk's concern began to grow with every word. "I thought it was a little weird at first, but I didn't want to be rude. Then he... he stuck his tongue in my mouth. I-I kind of freaked out and pushed him away, and I tried to get away, but he came after me, tried to grab me. I just... I yelled until he backed off, then I got out of there." She gave a weak shrug. "Then I went home. Slept. The end."

By the time she had finished, Wheatstalk seemed horrified, yet completely full of sympathy. When she glanced back up to him, she caught a momentary wide-eyed, shocked look, but it was quickly hidden. "I... I'm sorry," he offered, quietly. "I see why Shield took it so seriously."

She just nodded a little, feeding on the sympathy and pity he was offering, and quite content with how well that had turned out. Not a single thing she had said was not true, and yet she'd given the impression that the stallion had practically attacked her. She hadn't expected Wheatstalk's reaction to have been so strong to that, but she supposed ponies were so soft that anything even remotely violent might be considered extreme. Put that way, it made a little sense, even if it still seemed excessive.

Glancing down at herself, she ruefully noted that her appearance probably helped her seem even more pitiable. She hadn't had the chance to clean up yet, and so her fur was disheveled and dirty in spots from the untidy nature of her sleeping arrangements. The time spent smashing crates in a dirty alleyway probably didn't help, either.

All those bits spent at the spa, and now I have nothing to show for it.

Wheatstalk had Flash Fire cook her up some breakfast, free of charge, and tried to offer his sympathies in that clumsy pony fashion of words and expressions, which Meadow at least found a little amusing. "Are you going to be okay?"

She replied with a weak smile. "Yeah, I think so." Just enough reassurance to appear appropriate, yet not enough to alleviate the concern that she wasn't. All this sympathy made for the best meal she'd had since leaving the orphanage. Not nearly so well as her time spent with Spark, but... well, that was in the past, now.

An hour passed, with Meadow trying not to anticipate what was coming. Despite how unreasonable it was, she couldn't help but feel a little nervous at the idea that she might have been discovered. Even when she tried to dismiss it, she stopped, reprimanding herself. As unlikely as it is, I shouldn't ignore the possibility. I should be ready to escape, just in case. If I were to play it totally safe, I'd leave now, take a new disguise, but... well, the chance is low enough to risk it.

Eventually, a white unicorn stallion in silver armor entered, followed by a light-gray pegasus mare in similar attire. True enough, the stallion did look rather serious, made even more so by the Guard armor he wore. He looked to Wheatstalk, who silently inclined his head toward Meadow. She, in turn, avoided looking toward them, choosing instead to focus on her hooves, resting on the table before her, while trying to look downcast.

In truth, she had to fight the urge to do something, anything, other than just sitting there while they approached. Just sitting there while a pair of Guards walked up to her, it took a force of will, particularly with one of them being a unicorn. A unicorn meant magic, which could be a problem. Her number-one escape plan was to fire-portal away, but another magic-user could complicate that. What if he had some form of counter-magic? That seemed like a fitting spell for a pony in the Guard.

More prominent than that concern, however, was the simple fact that they were Guards. She recognized that, more than any other pony, they were the enemy. The personification of authority, tasked with maintaining order and security, and if necessary, fighting. Guards like these were the ones actively working to uncover wrongdoing and subterfuge, who would pursue her should she be discovered, and who would kill her should she be caught.

The fact that these two were obviously not professional soldiers made little difference. They would be the lower class of Guard, simple militia types, responsible for patrolling and keeping order, not the elite soldiers of the Royal Guard she had heard so much of. They didn't even carry weapons, and their armor was likely more for show than for protection. Despite that, they were still Guards. They were the guardians that kept the changelings hiding in the shadows, the blade that hung over the neck of her entire species.

She tried to calm herself as anger began to overtake nervousness. She needed to stay calm, to deal with this professionally, not to let herself get tripped up by her own emotions.

There was little time to worry about that before the two Guards had stepped up to her. "Meadow Song?"

She looked up, hoping she looked as pitiable to them as she had to Wheatstalk. "Yes?"

"My name is Swift Shield, and this is Vigilance. We need to speak with you, ask some questions." He gestured over to a booth at the side of the room, offering a little more privacy. She nodded and followed along.

As soon as they settled in, he spoke again. "We got a rather alarming complaint today. A pony by the name of Cherry Runner came in, saying that you had threatened him."

Oh, good. It was that. Despite the worst case being dispatched, that still left her with the problem of a pair of Guard members expecting answers. Her first inclination was to simply deny it, but "simple," for all its merits, wasn't always best. Instead, she took a slightly different route.

"Well, of course I did," she said, cocking her ears to look just slightly confused. "But why did that bring you two out here?"

The response was predictable enough, just as Meadow had hoped. The guard frowned a little, eyes narrowing just a bit. "We take threats of death very seriously."

Meadow pulled her head back, widening her eyes to look shocked at the statement. "Death? What are you talking about?"

Swift Shield's expression didn't change. I suppose I shouldn't expect a Guard to be swayed quite so easily, she thought, before his partner spoke. "He told us that you threatened to kill him by setting the entire apartment building on fire."

She widened her eyes more, stammering out a few fragments of words as if she were too shocked to speak. Finally raising a hoof over her mouth--such a strange gesture of shock these ponies use--she spoke a little more clearly. "...Oh, sweet Celestia, that's... that's just... no!" She let the hoof drop, looking between the two Guards. "I-I threatened to hit him when he tried to grab me, but not..." She shuddered, slumping a bit in her seat. "That's horrible!"

Disappointingly, the guards still remained suspicious. "Perhaps you'd better tell us your side of the story," Swift Shield offered.

Shakily, she nodded and told them the same tale she had given to Wheatstalk. They listened expressionlessly as she spoke, but just like Wheatstalk, their feelings of concern grew as she neared the end of the tale.

"--and when he reached out to grab me, I... I just panicked, yelled that I'd hurt him if he touched me. It got him to back off for a moment, and that gave me enough time to get away." She shook her head unsteadily, a couple tears starting to dampen the fur of her cheek; being able to cry practically on demand was a useful skill, she thought, even if it meant focusing on painful memories she would much rather never bring to mind. Blinking, she looked back up to the two guards. "But I never said anything so... so awful as that."

They were unsure. They did an excellent job of hiding it, or at least they would have, had she been a pony. Outwardly, they seemed to be considering her words, but she could sense their uncertainty, even the concern that what she had said was true.

"Well," Swift Shield said, leaning back. He considered the situation a moment longer before continuing on. "At this point you've both got differing stories about the night's events, and I have to say, neither possibility looks good. Unfortunately, we have only limited witnesses. We interviewed some of the residents, and they claim to have heard a female voice yelling indistinctly, then saw a mare matching your description leaving the scene, but nothing to corroborate your story. We'll have to speak to him again about some of the questions your account raises, but... just to be clear, are you accusing him of attacking you?"

Meadow hesitated. The thought of seeing that pony suffer for what he did brought a happy sense of satisfaction to mind, but still, she hesitated. It was all too tempting to give in to personal desires, but what would it gain her? Nothing, and yet it would likely require interacting regularly with the Guard, lots of questioning back and forth, and all sorts of attention that an Infiltrator is better off avoiding.

She let her gaze drift down to the table. "I... I don't know, I wasn't expecting what was going to happen, it just freaked me out so badly, and... and I guess he seemed a little confused, too. I don't know, maybe I was overreacting. At the time I thought he was, but now? I don't know." She let her head sink down, slumping over the table. "I just want this all to be over. I thought it was, even, but then I find out that he says I..."

She trailed off, leaving them in silence for a moment before Vigilance spoke up. "You sure?"

Weakly, she nodded. "Just... I don't know, if you could tell him to stay away from me or something, I'd appreciate it."

They hesitantly nodded, rising to their hooves. As they were about to leave, Swift Shield paused. "Are you going to be okay?"

She lifted her head up, giving a weak, lopsided, and thoroughly unconvincing smile. "Sure. I've been through worse before."

As they left, she sat there, quite happy under the weary, sad exterior. They had bought her story.

The next two days went smoothly enough, if a bit slow. Swift Shield returned, having discussed matters with Cherry Runner; evidently, he had clung to his story but had agreed to drop the matter after they had brought up her own accusations. Swift assured her that she wouldn't have to see him again. "He actually asked me to keep you away from him before I'd even mentioned your own request, so I don't think you'll be seeing him any time soon."

Otherwise, things were fairly normal, apart from Wheatstalk paying much more attention to her. It was almost overbearing, but she wasn't going to complain when she was getting such easy sympathy. Unfortunately, it also meant she had to keep up the "sad and awkward" act for a while, which rather hurt her efforts at gathering food from the evening patrons.

Curiously, Wheatstalk had a lot more busywork for her to do, little things he'd normally do himself, but which kept her occupied a fair portion of the night. On the plus side, that also meant more pay.

In the end, she considered the last couple days a success, if a somewhat trying one. Sure, there'd been some stumbling, but she'd handled herself well. Despite the... disgusting event with Cherry Runner, it had all worked out in the end. Most notably, she had encountered the Guard, possibly the most significant threat to her, and had fooled them perfectly.

But where the Guard failed to bring about disaster, a different department of the government was about to make things much less pleasant.

The night was cool and overcast when she left the pub, and Meadow was happy. With Wheatstalk giving her more work, she had a nice little sum of bits tucked away in her saddlebags, having already saved up more than she had before her trip to the spa. Idly, she made plans to go again. Hopefully, she'd be able to avoid ruining their beautification the very night she had it done.

With a subtle glance over her shoulder to ensure that nopony was watching, she slipped into the familiar alley. It was a little cluttered at the moment, several bags of trash and boxes having been added during the day. Somepony had moved things around, disrupting her little shelter, but it wasn't so bad. The extra material meant more obstruction to hide her from passing ponies, and it wasn't as if it took very long to rebuild.

She pulled out the flattened box that served as a sleeping pad, setting her saddlebags at one end as a makeshift pillow. The cardboard had just the slightest give to it as she lay down, a comforting feeling, just like the wax of the chambers she had slept in back at the hive. Another pair of flattened boxes were pulled over her, leaning against the wall to form a simple shelter. Safely hidden away, she closed her eyes, looking forward to a good, long sleep.

Tap.

Her eyes cracked open at the sound. Had she been asleep? How long had she laid there? And most importantly, what was that sound? More sounds started reaching her ears. Something rustled the trash bags near the front of the alley, soft pattering sounds rising from the street itself, and another "tap" sounded from the box over her, followed by a couple more.

Carefully, silently, she crept forward a few inches, until she could peer out under the end of her shelter, and finally recognized the rapidly-increasing sounds for what they were: rain.

Sighing, she scooted back and closed her eyes again, though her ears remained perked. It was inconvenient, all the extra sound would make it hard to notice somepony sneaking up on her, which made her a little wary. Sure, ponies were unlikely to do that, but it still felt like a risk, however small.

The sound continued to grow, the tapping rapidly turning into a single, long noise, but it made little difference. She had spent most of her life in the hive, and even after a few years of living as a pony, she was still accustomed to sleeping through simple noise.

The water seeping into her shelter, however, was something new.

At first, she tried to simply ignore it. She closed her eyes, not paying attention to the way the damp cardboard of her shelter began to sag or the trickle of water leaking onto her fur. Before long, everything was soaked; water trickled through the gaps in her shelter, or seeped through the material, or flowed in beneath it to soak the mat she lay on. Soon it had thoroughly soaked her fur--dumb, useless fur--and it was cold, so very cold. It was bizarre to think that rain should be so cold when it was still summer out, even in the middle of the night, and yet it was.

Beneath the sodden remains of her shelter, the disguised changeling curled up and shivered, trying to sleep despite the cold and wet.

She was determined to endure.

No amount of acting could have passed herself off as ‘well’ when she entered the pub that morning.

The rain was now just a light drizzle, but Meadow was completely soaked through, her movements slow and stiff, and despite the water dripping from her, her fur was filthy from the dirt of the alley. All she wanted to do was get to the restroom and clean up, with hot water, without anypony noticing her. Had she been thinking clearly, rather than having her thoughts muddled by lack of sleep and the horrible cold that had seeped through her entire body, she would have known that hope was doomed to fail.

In hindsight, simply walking in the front door and expecting not to be noticed was possibly not the best plan she could have come up with.

"What in the world happened to you?" Wheatstalk said with clear alarm, even stepping out from behind the bar to hurry over to her.

Her mind raced as fast as it could, with the result that, after about 5 seconds of thinking in an attempt to formulate the most iron-clad and convincing excuse, she stammered out, "I f-fell in a p-puddle."

"...A puddle?"

Meadow winced, recognizing how weak of an excuse that was. She tried to imagine Ceymi's critique. That was dumb. You're dumb. Dumb, dumb, dumb.

Perhaps the Ceymi-critique could wait until she could think straight. Even past the mind-numbing cold, she recognized how idiotic it had sounded. For a moment, she felt a terrible shame at having attributed such a simple-minded statement to her mentor.

She was abruptly aware that Wheatstalk was beside her, likely still expecting an answer as he guided her over to take a seat at the bar.

Well, time to keep digging. "...It m-might have been the r-river," she said. Well, that should work to explain why I'm so wet. Wait, there is a river around here, right?

"How in Equestria did you manage that?" Wheatstalk asked, a bit surprised, but it seemed to confirm that falling into a river wasn't too outrageous of a possibility. Just stupid.

However, she really didn't want to have to come up with an explanation for that right now, particularly not when she could barely focus enough to sit on the stool. "I was being stupid," she said. "I don't want to talk about it."

It seemed enough to satisfy his curiosity. Wheatstalk shouted back into the kitchen, then returned to place a warm towel over her shoulders. "I'll go set all this out to dry," he said before picking up her saddlebags. By the time he had laid out her scant personal belongings to dry, Flash Fire had finished his request, and he set a bowl of soup and a large cup of hot cocoa before her.

Her eyes widened slightly as she saw the cup. She recognized its contents and quickly reached out to clutch in in both hooves, lifting it to take a long drink. A moment later, the heat hit, and she sputtered, setting the cup down to clutch at her chest as the molten deliciousness worked its way down to her belly. She only barely managed to gasp out, "Hot!"

Wheatstalk winced. "Easy there. It's called 'hot cocoa' for a reason. Take it gently, you've got to warm up slowly."

She nodded weakly and did her best to follow his directions. The soup was nothing special, just some thin vegetable broth with noodles, but by the time she had finished it--as well as a second cup of hot cocoa that she'd managed to coax out of Wheatstalk--there was a pleasant, warm sensation in her belly. It was only a single point of warmth in her frigid body, but it was like a nice, warm beacon of hope to her.

Seeing that she had finished, Wheatstalk spoke up again. "We should get you all cleaned up and warm. I live upstairs. Go take a nice long shower, get yourself warmed up." He pointed to the door leading to the back. "Up the stairs. Bathroom is the first right in the hall."

"Thank you," she said, shakily rising to her hooves. She was no longer shivering uncontrollably, but she still found her progress slow, her limbs stiff. She climbed the stairs, passing through a door to enter a cluttered apartment. She barely even made note of the contents as she moved around the couch, making her way to the hall.

Entering the bathroom, she quickly turned on the shower, giving it just a moment for the water to heat up before stepping into the tub.

Oh, it was so wonderful, the heat coursing over her body, soaking into her. Slowly, she began to thaw, enjoying the blissful warmth. As her mind cleared from the fog the cold had shrouded it in, a few thoughts started to bubble up.

First, showers were almost as nice as baths. Not quite as good for relaxing as a bath, but for a freezing not-quite-pony, it was paradise.

Second, she really needed to start paying attention to the daily weather plan.

And third, she couldn't keep going on this way.

She frowned a bit at the last thought. As determined as she was to be strong, to endure hardships rather than give in to every frilly pony luxury, she simply couldn't continue on as she had. This downpour might have been a large one, but it was still late summer, and it had been only a single night. If it rained like this again tonight, she'd be in an even worse state by the morning. What would happen when it got to fall, or winter? She was tough and enduring, but she might not be able to survive that, and certainly wouldn't be in good shape.

However she looked at it, she needed shelter. Proper shelter, more than a few sodden boxes in an alley. Some place where she could sleep, indoors, safe from the weather.

That meant that she needed money, much more money than she was getting now. Once again, this meant a job.

She tried to push the thoughts back, to simply enjoy the warmth of the shower. Before long, she was warmed up enough to start cleaning, the water turning gray as she worked the dirt out of her fur. The filthy water of the alley had let the dirt seep deep into her coat, requiring a significant amount of scrubbing to work it back out. This would be so much easier in my natural form, she thought, though she wouldn't dare risk exposing herself. It'd be far too easy for Wheatstalk to come to check on her and ruin everything.

Eventually, reluctantly, she had to leave the wonderful warmth of the shower. After going through a couple of towels in a somewhat futile effort to dry herself off, she stepped out of the bathroom, her mind still thinking over the topic of finding a job.

With a clearer mind, she was able to take in the apartment she had numbly stumbled through many minutes earlier. There was a faintly musty, lived-in smell, and the small main room was cluttered with books, pictures, a few small statuettes, and a variety of miscellaneous personal belongings. Her mind momentarily brushed across the thought of how much random, unnecessary stuff ponies seemed to accumulate, but was immediately derailed as she looked over the coffee table in the middle of the room. Amidst all the clutter, a pair of bits lay on the table.

Meadow paused beside the table, reaching down to pick one up, turning it over. A job is just a way of getting bits from ponies, she thought, but there are much more direct methods of accomplishing that.

With a slowly-growing smile, she placed the bit back in its place and trotted out, a new plan forming in her mind.

A light drizzle filled the night sky when Meadow finally headed "home" again. The weather was not going to be quite so bad as the night before, but she had no intention of spending tonight out in the weather. She paused at the end of her alley, performing her usual check before heading in.

Somepony who was watching very closely might have seen the faint flicker of green firelight back in that alley, followed a few moments later by Coal slipping out through the shadows. In the darkness, the black-furred unicorn was nearly invisible, creeping down the poorly lit streets as she made her way back toward her objective.

It was possibly excessive caution. Nopony would even see her, and even if they did, they would never know to link Coal to Meadow Song. Despite that, she was not about to start taking chances, not when a few moments of precaution could eliminate that risk.

Several minutes later, she arrived at her destination, peering out from an alleyway beside Wheatstalk's Pub. The pub, however, was not her objective. Rather, she had her eyes on the music store across the street. It was always a popular place during the day, plenty of ponies going in and out, many bits exchanging hooves. Now, it lay silent and dark, abandoned in the night.

After a quick glance up and down the street, she darted out across the street and into the alley opposite where she started. Another glance showed that the street was still empty, and she cautiously ventured out from her hiding place to approach the store. Looking in the window, she took a long look around, noting the racks, the displays, the counter, and of course, the register. Holding that picture in her mind, she retreated back to the alley.

A dumpster and a few loose boxes would have to serve as cover. Crouching in the darkness, she focused on the memory of the store, and a moment later the flames engulfed her.

The world lurched, something striking her flank. She spun, blinking her eyes to clear them from the flash of her magic. She heard the sliding sounds just before she saw the stack of records toppling off the table that she had run into during her teleport. She lunged in, trying to arrest the cascade with her hooves and magic, but it was too late; the entire display rack toppled over, the sound of the records striking the ground echoing, shockingly loud in the silent store.

When it was done, she was left holding the half-empty case, eyes wide, ears perked and searching for any sound of somepony coming to investigate.

A minute later, she let out a near-silent sigh of relief. Carefully pushing the rack back into place, she stepped around the scattered records and made her way back to the counter.

The register was shut. She paused and closed her eyes. When they opened a moment later, Coal's large, green eyes were replaced with solid blue, and the darkness of the store no longer seemed so deep. A few moments of searching found the button she was looking for, and the drawer slid open. Empty.

She wasn't terribly surprised, even if she was a touch disappointed at her task not being quite so easy as she had hoped. Next she began searching through the cupboards and drawers behind the counter, taking her time to ensure that she made not a single sound in her search.

There was nothing there, beyond some cleaners, bags, and several record-player parts. Reluctantly, she turned to the back door. She didn't know what she would find in the back of the shop, if it'd lead to another living area like in Wheatstalk's pub, or if it'd hold what she was looking for, but she needed to find out.

Creeping the door open, she peeked through the crack to see a small hallway. A door at the end looked to exit into the alley, while another well-used door led further inside, and a staircase led up to the next floor.

Coal made her way to the nearby door, slowly opening it and slipping into what appeared to be an office. The room was nearly pitch-black, but her eyes picked out the details in the dark. A desk loaded with papers dominated the tiny room, while a very expensive-looking record player was set opposite it. What immediately caught Coal's eye, however, was the safe set behind the desk.

She frowned as she stepped up to it, eying it evilly, as if its very existence was an insult to her. Surely it held what she was looking for. She just had to convince it to give over its treasure. Given time, she might be able to blast it open with magic, but she had no doubt that would alert most of the neighborhood, not to mention draining a substantial amount of her dwindling magical reserves. No, this had to be done more subtly.

She looked closely at the dial, to see if there was any wear that might indicate the proper combination. Then she examined around the edges and inside the edges of the bookcase it was set in, to see if somepony had written down the combination anywhere they thought was sneaky and hidden. After that, she started to go through the drawers of the desk, to see if it might be found in one of the many papers there.

Halfway through the second drawer, a thought occurred to her that made her stop and turn around, glaring at the safe. After a moment of contemplation, she lifted her hoof and pressed down on the handle.

A faint clunk sounded from inside the mechanism, and the safe door swung open.

Stupid ponies, she thought, with a roll of her pupil-less eyes, before examining the contents.

A stack of papers and thin books were pushed aside, as well as several small records, until she came to a sizable and fairly heavy metal box, which jingled faintly as she lifted it out. There we go.

As she was about to leave, a glint of gold in the bottom of the safe caught her eye. She reached in, drawing out a finely-made, golden pocket watch. The face was purposefully made to reveal the intricate mesh of golden gears slowly spinning inside it. Compared to even the finest machine she had seen Spark Wheel tinker with, the watch looked incredibly refined and precise in its machinery. The quality of the craft would surely be expensive, and being made of gold must make it even more so.

But what would I do with it? She pondered the question. Sure, it was probably valuable, probably very much so, but it wasn't money. She'd have to sell it to somepony to make it useful to her, and that meant a pony that would know she had once had it. Even if they only knew a disposable disguise, it was a point of contact she would prefer to avoid, even if she had any idea where to find such a pony.

Reluctantly, she set the watch back.

She didn't bother using the fire-portal to leave; the back door into the alley served just as well, and let her conserve her energy. She stopped there in the slowly growing rain, dumping the bits from the metal box into her saddlebags and setting it amidst the trash, and then snuck her way back across the street. It was far too late to use her newfound wealth to get a place to stay, but she was not spending another night out in the rain.

Again finding a good hiding place, she thought back to the layout of the pub, and in particular, the mare's restroom. Focusing for a long moment, she again cast her spell.

As she emerged from the flames, a sudden pain lanced through her skull. Collapsing to the hard tiles of the restroom, she clutched her hooves to the top of her head, teeth grit tight, breath held, every bit of will focused on staying silent despite the sudden, surprising pain.

Slowly the pain receded, from a skull-splitting agony to a dull, powerful throbbing that ran along the top of her head. She hazarded a breath, the sound hissing as she sucked the air in through her teeth, and opened an eye to look up at the underside of the restroom counter. Right. The restroom is about a yard further back than I thought. Noted. She briefly entertained the idea of blasting the counter as revenge for its assault, but despite its cathartic promise, she held back. Instead, she weakly rose to her hooves, making her way to the last and largest stall, all the while reconsidering the wisdom of blindly teleporting into a cluttered room.

Still rubbing at her head, she let her magic wash over herself to strip away the small, black form of Coal and replace it with the lean, brown form of Meadow Song. Sadly, the pounding headache didn't go away with the change in forms.

With a weak sigh, she slid the bolt for the stall door, set down her saddlebags, and curled up to sleep beside the toilet. It was far from ideal, but it would do for the night.

In the morning, it was a simple matter of waiting until Wheatstalk was distracted, and then slipping out of the restroom to pretend as if she had just arrived. He just gave a nod between taking care of customers, barely even making note of her arrival. She'd become something of a common feature of the pub, after all.

After taking a moment to order a small breakfast, she made her way over to a table by one of the front windows, taking a seat and looking out at the small crowd that had gathered across the street.

In the light drizzle, a half-dozen Guard members milled about outside the music store, while a few dozen other ponies gathered around to watch. Movement in the windows showed that more were inside the store.

Meadow watched, carefully hiding her surprise and concern. This was much more of a reaction than she had expected. It was just a few bits. Sure, it made sense that the Guard would investigate, but she hadn't expected them to come in force. She had to remind herself that there was no way for them to link the theft to herself.

Unless they have magic to do that.

She was distracted from such thoughts by Wheatstalk placing a plate of fresh, hot food before her. "Morning, Meadow."

"Morning," she replied automatically, snatching up a quick bite of fried hay. They hadn't had anything like it at the orphanage, and it was surprisingly good for what was basically just heated hay.

She noticed then that Wheatstalk was still standing there. Looking up, she saw him staring out the window, a faint frown on his face. Best to play along. "So what happened over there?"

"Someone broke into Melody's store, robbed the place." He shook his head. "Sad to think that something like that could happen in this neighborhood."

Meadow looked out again. Many of the ponies milling about had similar expressions to Wheatstalk, looking on in disbelief. The members of the Guard looked deadly serious, and even from here she could catch the faint tingle of undirected anger. The only Guard with a more gentle expression was the one speaking to the mare sitting under the awning. She looked as if she had been crying, and was close to doing so again, while the foal clutched in her foreleg looked confused and a touch scared. The emptied metal money box was set on the sidewalk beside them.

Through the gray filter of the overcast skies and slow drizzle, it seemed like such a dismal scene.

After a moment, Meadow forced herself to look away, focusing instead on her food.

Next time, I'm hitting a place I won't have to look at afterward.

Meadow stepped through the door, flipping on the switch to illuminate the apartment.

The light showed a small room, situated in the basement under a furniture store. The room contained a small bed, a table with a pair of chairs, and the tiniest kitchen she had ever seen. The furniture was all old and worn, the sheets smelling vaguely of mildew, and the kitchen held only a half-size fridge and a stove that looked like it would struggle to boil a pan of water. A door led to a small bathroom that was only barely large enough to hold a toilet and a shower stall, not even a full bath, and yet the weak bulb in it struggled to barely light the room. The air was slightly chilly and stale.

It was cramped and dingy, but it was all hers.

It was perfect.

Life with money was notably easier. It was far more than simply having shelter from the rain. She kept herself cleaned and groomed, buying new cosmetics and grooming supplies to aid her in her work. She visited the spa a couple times each week, letting the experts beautify her as best they could while she, somewhat guiltily, enjoyed the luxury of their attention. She even followed some of their suggestions, purchasing a few garments to complete the look, trim little dresses that the tailor said emphasized her beauty.

The downside of money was that it seemed incredibly easy to spend it. Fortunately, it was just as easy to acquire. A fancy home, a museum, an expensive office, none offered any resistance to the mysterious ghost of a thief that the papers speculated wildly upon; a master burglar that got into the most secure areas, with no signs of how they entered or exited, and robbed the places of money, while leaving much more valuable items untouched.

Her favorite, however, was the banks. It had taken her weeks to build up the self-assurance to attempt to rob a bank, but in the end, it had been trivial. Coal portalled into the vault, swiped a small fraction of the money it held--still a substantial sum!--and portaled back out. Less than a minute, and she was set for weeks. Better yet? It seemed they weren't even sure they had been robbed. The bank visits rarely entered into the news, and the times they did, there was much confusion as to how the money had gone missing. All she had to do was not let on that she had such a large amount of money, and nopony would suspect her.

With such matters taken care of, she began to look for new avenues to get the energy she needed to thrive. Talking with a few of the visitors to the pub turned up a new possibility, one that her newfound source of revenue made more available to her: nightclubs.

That had been a new experience. Following the advice of a young couple she had talked with at Wheatstalk's, she found her way one night to a club simply called "Nova," a fairly unassuming building from the outside, apart from the sign. Once she got inside, however, it was completely different. Loud music filled the air, a large crowd of ponies dancing energetically on the huge, open dance floor, or kicking back with friends along the fringes.

At least, it had been a new experience for all of half an hour, when she recognized that apart from the loud music, the dancing, and the slightly younger average age of the crowd, there was little functional difference between this nightclub and the pub. Still, it had many more ponies, much more energetic and excited. The sheer enthusiasm and euphoria of the crowd filled the air with an energy that was very real and tangible to her; a blending of hundreds of ponies' emotions, faint and undirected, and yet delightful to her senses. Better yet, several of the ponies here seemed quite happy to talk with the pretty new mare who had walked in, looking a little lost among the sea of ponies.

The novelty of each club never lasted long, but it was little matter. When one seemed to stagnate, she could visit another, and suddenly be the curious new attraction again. There was no permanence to it, no lasting success, but it fed her. Not as well as back at the orphanage, but well enough.

There was a strange incongruity to thinking of how boring her life was while she was in the process of robbing a twentieth-floor office.

Coal peeked around the corner of the huge mahogany desk at the front of the lobby of Shuckster & Sons Imports. The impression she had gotten from the talk of one of those "Sons" at the club the previous night looked to be quite accurate; the place looked like money. The walls were covered in hardwood paneling, statues flanked the main doors, and the lobby floor was marble, polished to a mirror shine. She no longer was easily shocked to see such a feat, all that stone lifted so high above the ground. She was further up than any of the hive's spires reached, in a giant building of steel and glass beyond anything any of the drones back at the hive could imagine. Over the months of living beneath such huge structures, such things had ceased to be so shocking. Imposing, possibly, but not shocking.

That reaction somewhat mirrored how the rest of her life was going, she thought as she began creeping down the hall toward the main offices. As the days turned to weeks, and the weeks turned to months, the novelty of clubs and dancing had worn thin. Oh, plenty of ponies had been friendly, but she soon came to recognize that there were two kinds of ponies that came to places like that: the ones who wanted to spend time there with the friends they already had, who might be friendly enough but unlikely to form lasting interest in a pony they just met there, and the ones who were there on their own, looking for a very temporary kind of friendship. An evening with somepony to hang out with, to spend a good time with, rarely much more. At best, they might begin to grow more feelings over time, feelings that could eventually be coaxed into an actual, lasting friendship. At worst, they reminded her of Cherry Runner. That thought alone was enough to sour her to the experience.

She slipped through the door at the end of the hall, revealing a series of offices, conference rooms, and other spaces of unknown use. No, there's a third kind, she thought as she began to quietly rummage through the first office. The ones like Balance Line.

Balance Line was quite possibly the least interesting stallion in the world. He was also a rarity in the fancy nightclubs that had become her hunting grounds; a lonely, socially inept pony who went to the clubs in the hopes of making friends. His awkwardness was rather pathetic in some ways, but it gave him a kind of desperation that was all too easy to exploit. All she had to do was give a sympathetic ear and feign interest, and he gave her all the friendship she could want. Of all the ponies, he was the only one she had met that had formed a longer-lasting interest.

Despite that, she wasn't sure if it was really worth the effort.

She frowned as she opened the last drawer, finally turning up a few coins. Five bits. What, did somepony forget their lunch money? Grumbling a little, she scooped the bits into her bags and shut the drawer, moving on to the next room.

Balance Line wasn't just boring. He seemed to have this ability to leech the fun and excitement out of the air, like a changeling that could somehow sap your very intellect and will to live. Oh, he didn't lack for passion. He was very passionate about his work. Very passionate. Hours of talking about budgetary constraints, tax formulas, and investment schemes levels of passionate. The kind of passionate that made certain changelings distantly consider thinning the herd of an undesirable member.

He even looked boring. He was a beige-coated earth pony with a plain, medium build, brown eyes and mane, and a cutie mark that was simply a black line. A line. What kind of pony has a line for a cutie mark?

Wait. Why is there a fridge in an office building?

She walked over and opened the seemingly out-of-place fridge, finding more of interest there than she had in the previous office. Shortly after, she left what must have been some sort of office-building dining room, levitating a hay smoothie and an extra-large slice of cold pizza, with a well-wrapped cupcake waiting for her inside one of her bags. Not exactly what I'm looking for, but I shouldn't pass up such a nice opportunity, she thought, taking a bite.

That very same saying could be used for Balance Line, actually. He was painfully boring, utterly uninteresting, and had no idea how to socialize. He had grown a strong sense of affection for Meadow in just a couple days--infatuation, really, she thought--and even two months later, it showed no signs of waning. Worse yet, it meant she had to spend more time with him to maintain that emotional output, easily her strongest source of food at the moment. That meant less time socializing with other ponies and fewer opportunities to find ponies that didn't threaten to kill her brain with blandness. Very much not what she wanted, ideally, yet still something she couldn't just abandon.

At least he was dull enough to show absolutely no initiative. Despite the infatuation he had for Meadow, she was the one that made all the decisions, steering things along, with him blandly following along. As such, she always got to do what she wanted, rather than being stuck with whatever brain-meltingly boring pastimes he might come up with.

Here's to small blessings, she thought, giving a gesture of salute to nopony with her pilfered cup, before drawing a long drink and slipping into the next office.

More and more, it was all starting to seem pointless. Sure, she hadn't accomplished much for an Infiltrator. On the other hoof, she was isolated, alone, and untrained, and yet, had survived comfortably for years. She had sustained herself, even established herself to the point where she could bring in a fairly decent surplus of emotional energy. It should be a decent accomplishment... if it served any purpose.

She gulped down the last of the pizza as she rifled through another desk. Pointless. Surely there had to be some money here in an office building of such wealth. She had rent to pay, and she preferred not to "visit" the banks too often. Her cup made an angry slurping sound as she finished it off, and she simply left it on the desk as she walked out.

At least the next office looked promising, a huge room featuring a long table, decorated with small statuettes, globes, navigation instruments, and model airships, and beyond it, the largest and most pretentiously extravagant desk she could even imagine. Huge windows let the light of the city at night filter in, casting strange shadows through the room. She shook her head a little as she walked in.

She was just starting to work up to a good mental rant about Balance Line and life in general when something caught her attention. She looked to the wall opposite the grand windows, her pace slowly coming to a halt as she realized what she was looking at.

Above a shallow counter and between two grand bookcases, a space at least ten yards long and stretching to the ceiling four yards above the counter, was a map.

She hopped up onto the counter, eyes wide as she looked over it. It took her a moment to orient herself, then she reached out with a hoof to touch the surface. Manehattan. The hoof traced its way a short distance south. Mareville.

The detail was astounding. It was not just some simple map, like in the geography book they had at the orphanage. This was a work of art, intricately detailed as if intended for navigation. Peering closely at the map, she could see every detail, every curve of the hills, the lines of the forests, the winding streams and rivers. Her memory was vague, yet it seemed everything matched so perfectly with what she remembered of her trip here.

Next, her hoof found the line of tracks leading away from Mareville, to the west. They wound around hills, over rivers, and right up to the edge of the Everfree Forest, where they passed through a small town. Hoofington.

Then her eyes worked their way north-west, scanning past the miles of trees and winding rivers, past the expanse of the Everfree Forest, until they were looking over the barren, craggy lands beyond them.

Home.

She stared for several moments, her heart suddenly pounding in her chest. It seemed so close. She blinked, then reached out with her magic, snatching up a ruler and compass and making measurements. 330 degrees. She swapped out tools, making another measurement. ...And just over three hundred miles.

She stared. Three hundred miles. If she flew hard, she could probably make that in a day. Better yet, she had an exact bearing to follow, not just the vague direction of "past the Everfree." I'm such a fool, she thought, despite the smile slowly growing on her face. Of course these ponies would have something like this. Why didn't I think of--

"Hey!"

Coal nearly fell off the counter as she spun around, eyes wide in shock, the tools levitated defensively between her and the source of the shout. A middle-aged red pegasus stallion stood just inside the door, wearing a white uniform. A security guard. He quickly pulled out a flashlight and turned it on, nearly blinding her as it shone in her face.

"What're you doing in here?" he shouted angrily, advancing on her.

Alarm and panic tore through her mind. "I-I just wanted to look at the map," she babbled, only belatedly realizing how poor of an excuse that was.

"Get down from there!" he shouted out, obviously not caring for the excuse either.

She thought quickly, immediately latching onto a plan. "O-okay," she said as she started to climb down, but it was simply an act. The words covered the sound of one of the metal busts lifting off the display behind the guard. The motion of her movements kept him distracted, his eyes on her. He didn't even get the warning of her horn lighting up, as it was still alight, holding the measuring tools. He caught the look of concentration upon her face too late, the bust smashing into the back of his head. His light went skittering across the floor, his body dropping in a limp, motionless heap.

Coal remained frozen in place for several long seconds, eyes fixed on the guard, bust lifted up to strike again. Finally, she let out a long sigh, turning into a faint, slightly-giddy chuckle at the end, her body trembling faintly with adrenaline.

Quickly, she used her magic to tear away a large piece of the map, from Hoofington to the badlands beyond the Everfree. She couldn't help but feel a little guilty at defacing such an impressive work, but frankly, she needed it more than they did. Rolling it into a loose bundle, she tucked it into her bag and walked toward the door with a triumphant, smug grin. "And this," she said with a superior tone to the downed guard, "is why you don't get between me and my goals, little pony."

She was just walking past him when the feeling that something was wrong came over her. She hesitated, looking down at the stallion. He twitched every few moments, eyes only half-shut and rolled back into his skull. His breathing seemed to come shallow and slowly, and when she stepped around to get a better look at the wound, she could see the shocking amount of blood leaking from his scalp.

The triumphant grin had been replaced with a frown as she carefully nudged the side of his head, drawing no response or resistance. She had only meant to knock him unconscious, but this... by the looks of him, it was a far more serious injury. It was the kind of serious that could easily turn fatal without care, care he would not be getting any time soon. The office probably didn't open for another six hours or more, leaving him twitching and bleeding the whole time.

She stared down at him. He saw me, she thought. He saw Coal. If he survives, they'll know it was her that robbed all those places, and now attacked a security guard, too. Sure, it shouldn't matter soon, but... I should just let him die. It would be simpler that way. What's one less pony? There are so many of them, right?

Frowning, she sat on the polished marble floor, contemplating the wounded pony.

A flicker of green faintly illuminated the back of an alley below the monumental towers of the city, and a moment later, a black unicorn head peeked out from between a pair of dumpsters. She looked around, cautiously seeking out any observers, but all that greeted her was the distant sounds of the city at night and the chilly breeze. Slowly, she took a step out, then another. Still no sign of ponies. She was alone.

She let out a slow sigh, and murmured, "Okay then."

Turning, she stepped back into the shadow of the dumpsters, clenched her teeth around the stricken guard's collar, and began to drag him down the alley.

Guh, this guy must weigh half a ton, she grumbled, hooves slipping on the damp asphalt. He was certainly too heavy to levitate him along. At least, not easily. It would be far more drain than it was worth when she could just drag him, and she was likely to need all the energy she could hold, before long.

She was breathing heavily by the time they were halfway down the alley, and she stopped to take a momentary break, jaw feeling slightly sore. "You're lucky I'm in a good mood," she muttered darkly, and gripped his collar again. It probably wasn't a good idea to be dragging him along, considering his injuries, but it was far better for him than being left hidden in an alley.

Finally she pulled him onto the sidewalk at the end of the alley, releasing him to lean, panting, against the wall. And I'm getting out of shape again. That was quick.

Once she felt a little more stable, she looked down at the unconscious guard. He didn't look any better here, and the cold probably wouldn't help any. At least winter had been cleared out a week ago, in an amazingly well-coordinated effort involving hundreds of pegasi, but the weather was still rather chilly and damp. Oh well, nothing I can do about that. She reached out with her magic to pull out his flashlight, flip it on, and set it beside him. In the dark of night, it stood out like a beacon.

One final step.

She trotted down the street, eyes fixed on a 24-hour grocery halfway down the block. Slowly, it drew closer, her heartbeat pounding harder and harder. She finally came to a halt just outside the door, staring at it. This is it. If I go in there, then it's settled. No going back...

Taking a deep breath, she pushed open the door.

The young stallion behind the counter, hardly past his colthood, looked up from his magazine to see a distraught black unicorn standing in the doorway, her eyes wide with fear. "Help!" She shouted out, voice shaking in apparent desperation. "Somepony's been hurt really bad, a-and he isn't getting up!"

He stared in shock for only a moment before leaping to his hooves and hurrying to the door. From here, the flashlight illuminated a section of wall, leaving a clear silhouette of a crumpled body on the sidewalk. The stallion hesitated only a moment before he began to trot toward the fallen figure. Soon the trot turned to a canter, then an outright gallop.

He didn't notice when the black unicorn following him veered away, dashing off into the night.

Half an hour later, Meadow walked into the Pulse nightclub. She looked around, all the ponies dancing about so happily, soaking in the pounding music and the happiness that filled the air. Pausing a moment, she slipped a couple bits out of one bag and into the other, setting it aside for train fare. The rest, a couple hundred bits, was all for tonight.

Time for one big, final party.

Meadow pulled the strap of her saddlebags tight. That's everything, she thought, eyes scanning over the apartment one last time. The advantage of having few possessions was that it took hardly any time to pack. She hadn't grabbed any of the shampoos or mane-grooming supplies, but those were hardly going to be useful. All but one of the few dresses she had gotten were still hung up. The last, a fairly simple affair of silvery-gray cloth, was tucked in one of her bags. She didn't need anything else. She didn't even need what she had packed, but for some reason, she wanted to hold onto some small piece of her time here.

Stepping out, she turned off the light, and shut the door for the last time.

As she walked down the street, she thought, making sure she wasn't forgetting anything important. Not that there was much to forget. Such was the blessings of a simple life. Few possessions, no real job, and nopony who really cared for her to say goodbye to. Well, there was Balance Line, but she really didn't want to see him again.

She paused when she reached the corner, looking down the street at Wheatstalk's Pub. She had gone there less and less frequently as the months had gone by, but Wheatstalk had always been so glad to see her. The pub was a much more relaxed environment than the nightclubs, she supposed. Much better food, too.

Standing there, silent, she considered going in one last time. She smiled a little, but shook her head, turning to leave. No point in going in there if I'm leaving anyway...

The train ride was quick, with Meadow spending the whole trip leaned over, looking out the window as the terrain passed by. It still felt so wrong to have the world move beneath her, but it was no longer such a shock. Ponies were weird, and she'd gotten used to dealing with weirdness. Now she simply sat, distracted from the train's movements as she gazed out, lost in thought.

Before long, she was stepping off the train again at the Hoofington station. Strapping on her saddlebags, she started to walk, making her way out of town.

Half an hour later, Meadow reached the top of a small, tree-shrouded hill just outside town. It held such a grand view; to her right, the town of Hoofington slowly rolled through the hills and scattered trees, while before her, a wild sea of green blanketed the land, reaching out to the horizon.

She smiled, eyes looking out over the outskirts of the Everfree, and let her magic pass over her. The flames flickered over her form, stripping away Meadow Song, and leaving Nictis standing in her place--a grown changeling, standing proud.

He drew in a deep breath, letting it out in a slow, happy sigh. There was something liberating about standing there, openly, in his natural form. No deceptions to keep track of, no fear of discovery. It was just him, looking to a future that, for once, shone with hope.

The flap of his saddlebag opened, and he drew out the old, tiny compass from where it had sat beside the section of map, the little metal object turning on its cord. He placed it in his hoof, holding it delicately, like a treasure. The simple needle wavered back and forth, while he turned the compass to line up the simple compass rose in the background.

"Three hundred thirty..."

His eyes found the mark, then turned upward, as if tracing a line to the horizon.

Home.

Carefully, he slipped the cord over his head, letting the compass rest against his chest. Spreading his wings, he swung them slowly through the motions, stretching the muscles out after such a long period of being unused. The motions accelerated with a soft buzz, his weight lifting off his hooves. He rose up, and for the first time in almost five years, he flew, eyes fixed on the horizon.

Chapter 9: Journey

Chapter 9: Journey

As it turned out, five years without ever being used could have a rather negative effect on a limb's endurance.

It had been hardly half an hour before the burning fatigue had spread well throughout the base of his wings, creeping into his back and sides. Nictis was gritting his teeth with focus, trying to force himself to continue on, but it was doing little good. Already his speed was flagging, his flightpath wavering as his increasingly-numb wings faltered slightly with each beat.

It was with much resentment that he finally allowed himself to enter into a shallow dive, descending toward a gap in the canopy, where a stream flowed down a small cliff into a pool. He landed a bit more heavily than he had intended, staggering a couple steps to keep his feet, and then groaned as he let his wings hang limply beside him.

Half an hour in, and already I've run into a problem, he thought with a grumble. Yeah, this will go well.

He shook his head a little as if to dispel the thoughts. I was in such a good mood, too. And I should be in a good mood. I'm going home! The thought brought a little smile to his face, despite the ache in his back. It'll just take a little longer. I can still walk fine between flights. So what if it'll take an extra... day or two? It's hardly like I'm pressed for time now that I know where to go!

It made for a good plan. Hiking along, with short flights when he was feeling rested, or when he needed to get past rougher terrain. He could still make good progress, and after a few days of exercise, maybe he'd be able to fly longer distances, especially once he reached the badlands.

Still, he wanted to rest up for a moment. He had, perhaps, pushed himself a little hard. Besides, a look at the pond had stirred up a certain thought.

One of the more enjoyable luxuries he had enjoyed during his time as Meadow had been relaxing in a bath, and he had always wondered if it felt just as good in his natural form as it had in that soft, fleshy pony form. A grin grew on his face as he quickly shrugged off his saddlebags and set them well back from the water, setting the compass atop them. Then he turned, gave a short run-up, and leaped over the water with a short buzz of his tired wings.

He struck the water, disappearing under the surface, only to come up a moment later, sputtering and splashing. He gasped for breath, feeling as if his chest had almost locked up with the sudden shock. He had known that it wouldn't be as wonderfully warm as those baths had been, but he hadn't expected it to be so frigid! He floundered and flailed as he fought his way through the water, until his hooves finally struck solid ground, and hauled himself out of the water.

He stood there for a moment, shuddering slightly as the water coursed off him, then gave a full-body shake. When it was done, the dripping had mostly stopped. Glancing back at the water, he frowned slightly, again concerned that the years among ponies had made him soft. He had bathed just fine in unheated pools back at the hive, after all. They had to have been warmer than this, though. Sure, they had been chilly, but they hadn't left him shivering afterward.

On the plus side, my wings aren't bothering me anymore. He stretched his wings out to ensure that he still could, and felt only a distant ache, half hidden behind the dull numbness from the cold water. And I don't have any of that dumb fur to dry out.

Indeed, he was mostly dry already, and if he had brought along a towel, he could have finished the job in moments. For now, though, it was good enough. He padded back over to his saddlebags, suppressing a shiver. He slipped the compass's strap back over his head, then opened the bags.

While he had a few useless mementos, he at least had the foresight to pack supplies, most notably food. That wasn't for now, though. Here in the forest, he could just eat leaves and grass. The bag of oats he had packed was for later, when he reached the barren badlands beyond. So were the pair of water bottles. Finding food would be an imposing task in those lands, and water would be even harder, but the oats should give him something to eat for a few days. That should be long enough to find the hive, particularly if he should recognize any of the landscape as he got nearer. Any longer than that, and he'd have to backtrack to the woods, stock up on leaves and such. They were less dense of food, which would limit how long he could venture into the badlands before returning to restock, but it would do. Most likely, he wouldn't even need it.

For now, he simply pulled out the map. He hadn't flown long, but it was a long trip, and checking his position wouldn't hurt. He looked around, finally noting a distant mountain in one direction, and a closer hill in another. He compared their direction to the compass, then searched around on the map. He knew his rough location, which narrowed down the area to search, and eventually, he picked out what he assumed were the landmarks he had seen. He traced the lines leading from them, finding where they converged, and pulled out a pencil to mark the spot. The map wasn't as detailed in the forest as it was for the more settled areas of Equestria, but it showed a stream right where he had marked. That was a good sign.

A final measurement confirmed his course, and he tucked the map back into his bags before strapping them on. Before leaving, he took a quick drink from the pool and munched on a few leaves. It was a bland meal--I've definitely been spoiled by pony cooking--but it was sufficient.

Giving the straps a final tug to cinch them on tight, he trotted off into the forest, occasionally consulting the dangling compass to keep his course.

As day turned to dusk, then to night, Nictis couldn't help but feel satisfied with his progress. Tired, but satisfied. There was a faint warmth of fatigue in his legs and chest, nothing too bad, just enough to know that he'd done a lot of hiking. It had gone smoothly, interspersed with a few minutes of flying here and there to clear rougher terrain, or when he was simply feeling well-rested.

He hopped up, wings buzzing to loft himself into the branches of a tree. Landing on this higher vantage point, he looked around. It would be a good place to rest for the night. With his nocturnal habits back in Manehattan, he was used to making do with what ponies would consider fairly little sleep, but after a day spent hiking he was starting to feel the fatigue more and more. It would be good to sleep now, safe and hidden while the night-time predators go about their business.

Sitting down, he again pulled out the map, squinting off into the distance to make out distant landmarks. It was difficult and required a few short flights above the canopy, but eventually, he placed another pencil mark on the map.

It was disappointingly close to where he had started.

A quick measurement showed that he had only covered thirty miles. Well, it was only half a day's travel, he reasoned. And the days are still short. If I start out when I wake, I can easily make double that distance tomorrow, maybe even triple.

He considered the math. Despite the possible delays, it still seemed acceptable. He didn't have to worry about water or physical food out in the forest, and he could last for several weeks on the energy he had stored up. Even if he only made the same speed he had been making, but through a full day, he'd still have a couple weeks' worth of energy to spare when he reached the badlands. That should be more than enough. That wasn't even considering that, after five days, his wings would probably be much stronger. Yes, this should work.

Kicking back in the crook of a couple branches, he sighed happily, looking up to the sky. The moon was slowly reaching its way up into the sky, the silhouette of the Nightmare peering down from it. He gave a little smile, chuckling darkly at the thought of that particular piece of pony mythology, and closed his eyes to sleep.

His eyes snapped open as the entire world shook around him, a blast of noise hitting him like a wall. He was lurching to the side, hooves scrambling to catch at the limb he was resting on, while his sleep-addled mind tried to make sense of the world. His body slammed back against the tree, half of him dangling off into space, but his grip held. Below he saw a sudden movement of glowing green below him, and another blast of sound.

Scrambling, his hind hooves slammed against the trunk of the tree, pushing himself out into the open air, as that pair of glowing, green eyes lunged upward, the wooden jaws of the timberwolf snapping at him. He dipped for a moment before his wings caught the air, propelling himself upward and away from the beast.

A dozen yards up, Nictis paused, panting hard in shock. The timberwolf stared up at him, snarling at his escaped prey, and now Nictis noticed the other timberwolves pacing around. Then the timberwolf that had attacked him reared back, letting out a loud, piercing howl.

Nictis frowned in anger, and his horn lit up brilliantly with energy. Snapping his head down, he flung a brilliant green bolt of fire that streaked through the night sky, striking the timberwolf in the chest. Instantly the howl turned into a cry of pain, the creature hopping back and fleeing, wisps of smoke rising from it as it backed away.

Satisfied, Nictis descended to land precariously in the upper branches of a tree and looked around. The moon was now nearly at its peak, showing that he had gotten a few hours of sleep, at least. Not like I'm getting any sleep now, he thought, his heart pounding in his chest, the cold rush of adrenaline still coursing through him. I'll just... nap later on if I get tired.

Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, he spread his wings and took flight again, determined to put a good amount of distance between him and this place before he risked landing again.

After napping through the early morning, Nictis was feeling much more prepared for his journey. Another quick consultation with his map confirmed his location, and he resumed his hiking.

The map had shown that the next section of the forest was fairly level. Originally, he had expected this to mean progress would be easier. Instead, he found nothing but sodden wetlands stretching on for miles, forcing him to make short flights between dry sections of ground. Even the weather had turned damp, clouds gathering to unleash a light but constant drizzle. He hoped that his bags would keep their contents dry, particularly the map and his food. The rain didn't bother himself much at all. It was somewhat chilly, but it simply flowed off his carapace, having no fur to soak into.

Apart from a few rays of sunlight peeking through the clouds on occasion, it was a fairly dreary day, if uneventful. He didn't even see much wildlife, and what little he did see kept its distance, wary of a potential predator. Instead, he was left alone to trudge along the increasingly muddy ground. Every now and then he would try to flick off the mud, annoyed at it dirtying his carapace. An hour later, he had given up the attempt at cleanliness, simply ignoring it instead. It didn't really matter, after all.

Even as night fell, the drizzle persisted. He flew up into another tree, wedging himself in the crook of a couple branches--slightly higher up in the tree than his previous night's perch. He was pleased with his foresight as he pulled out a small canvas tarp, just large enough to drape over himself. It would keep him dry through the night, and that was all he really needed.

He lay back, listening to the rain patter lightly off the tarp. Something about the rhythmic tapping was familiar and comforting, a soft background noise. He sighed softly, settling in against the tree. A small smile teased at his face as he did so. This would be so uncomfortable in that soft-skinned pony body.

A distant rumbling broke him out of his thoughts. Pulling the edge of the tarp down, his ears perked up, listening intently. For just a moment, it sounded like thunder, but only a moment. Then he recognized the deep, rising and falling tone. It was a roar, powerful enough to echo throughout the wetlands, muted to a dull rumble only by distance.

He tried to reason to himself that whatever had made the noise was far away, that he would be safe, hidden in this tree and out of sight. He tucked the tarp back over his head, trying to block out the concern with the soft patter of the rain, trying to keep his ears from twitching at every little sound. He even tried ignoring the distant roar when it sounded again, some time later.

Despite his best efforts, it was not a very restful night.

Nictis had hoped that the clouds would have gotten all the rain out of their systems by the time dawn came, but it seemed nature had other plans. Instead, he woke to the steady sound of rain pouring down on his tarp. A peek under the edge revealed a world cloaked in gray and obscured under a dense curtain of rain.

He trudged along through the mud, the tarp draped over him as a makeshift poncho. Progress would be slow today. What little dry ground had existed before was now soaked through, turning to mud as his hooves fell on it. Flight was awkward in the downpour, and wearing the poncho was impossible while doing so. He often made do without flying over the shorter stretches of water, wading through the shallower portions. The biting cold didn't bother him very much, anymore.

The forest was silent, except for the sound of rain. No animals wandered about or called out. Nothing moved, except the trees wavering in the wind. It almost seemed as if he were the only living thing around.

Or possibly the only living thing dumb enough to go wandering about through a swamp in the rain.

By the time it began to grow dark, Nictis was more than ready to stop for the day. His legs ached, his stomach complained at having nothing but leaves and grass to eat, and his optimistic outlook on the journey had been thoroughly drowned by the pouring rain. He merely grumbled as he tucked in for the night, hardly even caring anymore that he was wet and muddy.

When he awoke, he was greeted by silence, and when he pulled the tarp away, he was greeted by the soft glow of the morning sun. The world was still soaking wet around him, but the rain had finally relented, the clouds drifting apart to reveal glimpses of blue beyond.

He had a hard time finding landmarks to judge his location by, but he made his best guess. Having done so, he hoped it was wrong, but suspected it was correct; if he had determined his location, he had made less than twenty miles the previous day. Such small progress was hardly surprising, given the terrain and weather, but that made it no less disappointing.

Grabbing a quick meal of leaves as he went, he resumed his journey, soon taking to the air again. Flying was disappointingly exhausting, but he could still go for ten minutes or more at a stretch, trotting along between flights. It was an exhausting way to travel, but it would make up for lost time.

The broad wetlands weren't so bad from the air. The damp smell of decay still reached his nose as he flew along the treetops, but the view was so much nicer, the sea of green spread out under the sun, curving over the hills that grew steeper the further away they were. He altered course toward the nearest line of hills. Hiking along solid ground would be quite preferable over these wetlands.

It was afternoon, during one of his short flights, when he encountered something new.

Nictis had just cleared a small ridge and was descending into the shallow valley beyond when he noticed the movement far to the side of his course. A large winged creature was rising up from the trees, flying in his direction. Moments later, another appeared, then another. Soon a half-dozen of the creatures were in the air and flying toward him, an obvious urgency in the beating of their wings.

Fear dug its way into his chest, gripping at his heart. He had no idea what they were, too far away to discern details, but it was obvious they were flying for him, and fast. There were few reasons a pack of creatures might be approaching him with such urgency, and none that he could think of were anything he wanted to be present for. Turning, he tried to build as much speed as his weakened wings could manage, despite knowing there was no way he could evade them for long. Their wings were beating swift and strong, quickly eating up the distance between them.

As they drew nearer, he began making out more details, though they did not bring any recognition. The creatures looked vaguely like ponies in their build. Granted, ponies with craggy, stone-like hide, a long reptilian tail, wicked claws in place of their hooves, and a mouth filled with sharp, deadly teeth, as if they had been crossed with a dragon and born out of solid rock. It was like a mockery of the pony form, vile and monstrous, with a look in their eyes that seemed to say "you look tasty." An abomination that seemed all the more shocking for the vague resemblance to those soft and weak-minded creatures.

Nictis dove for the trees.

Behind him, the creatures put on a burst of speed, snarling. Whatever they were, they were quick, closing the distance faster than Nictis had expected. He twisted to the side with a startled yell, the first of the creatures slashing its claws through the air where he had just been. The next one lined up for its pass, and Nictis tucked his wings in, plummeting out of the way. The trees reached up for him, branches slapping and scratching at his carapace as he crashed through them, and then he was clear again. He had only just righted himself, wings giving a single beat to slow his progress before he struck the ground.

Tumbling for a few yards, he finally came to a rest against the trunk of a tree, battered but whole. A shriek drew his attention in time to see one of the creatures flying in through a gap in the canopy, slowing to weave awkwardly around the trees. The large wings helped them in the open sky, but here under the canopy, it was a different tale, forcing it to slow down and fly carefully.

Nictis quickly leaped to his hooves and bolted off into the underbrush, determined to put the most trees and branches between him and these flying predators as he could.

Another had joined the one weaving its way through the trees, while the rest circled overhead, swooping low to swipe at the top of the trees. It was nothing but a gesture of frustration, but each pass, each slash through the upper leaves and angry cry of hunger, made his heart leap. Already he was panting hard, the fatigue bearing down on him as he ran and leaped through the underbrush in a near-panic. If only he were in better shape, his flight muscles fit and exercised, he could have evaded them easily. His short, insectoid wings were perfect for such confining terrain, unlike their broader wings. Instead, he was limited to short flights, each one straining his already exhausted wing muscles just a little bit more. He wouldn't be able to outrun them, which meant he'd have to outmaneuver them, and that meant he had to think. He had to look past the simple-minded urge to panic, he had to think and plan, to outsmart these beasts.

Soon, an opportunity presented itself. A thicker grove of trees gave him a few moments cover as he dove into their midst. He would never evade them on hoof, but he had other options, given time. Cowering in the shelter of the trees, he lit up his horn, concentrating. He only needed a few moments to focus, attempting to carefully weave the intricate spell, rather than simply pouring raw energy into it as his fearful mind insisted. He tried his best to ignore the loud, predatory cries, the sight of the creature tearing at the brush that formed his flimsy shelter. It clawed its way closer, and even as the green flames rose around him, it lunged.

Nictis gasped as the flames vanished, falling back against a tree. An angry cry pierced the air, no more than a hundred yards away, the creature protesting its prey's inexplicable escape. Nictis shuddered, hunkering down in the shadows as he tried to catch his breath. Even from here he could hear the beasts tearing through the underbrush, trying to find him.

Many minutes passed before the creatures let out a final, collective shriek of frustration, launching themselves back into the sky. Slowly, the anxiety began to drain from Nictis, and he let himself fall to the ground, sucking in deep breaths.

He didn't dare relax, however. He could still see the movements far above, through the leaves. They hadn't left. They were merely circling about, looking for any sign of movement that would give away their prey.

The creatures hounded him through the day. He snuck along under the trees, while the creatures searched for any movement below. When they caught even the slightest glimpse, they dove and tried to root him out, while he scurried along, trying to keep away and hidden. Several times they drew close. Several times he thought they had left, only to have one come tearing in through the forest, forcing him to run or hide.

They were relentless.

Nictis didn't dare climb into a tree to sleep that night, a perch that would be far too visible to the airborne predators that still circled overhead. Instead, he crawled under a bush, managing only a shallow and fitful sleep.

When he woke, there were no signs of the creatures.

He crept along cautiously, not daring to expose himself just yet. The sky remained empty. Peering out from the edge of the treeline, overlooking a broad clearing, there was no sign of them. Had they abandoned their pursuit overnight? Or had they hidden, waiting to ambush him?

Nictis didn't dare fly. He didn't even dare expose himself enough to find landmarks. That could wait until he was certain he was safe from those creatures. Cautiously setting out, he was determined to travel under the cover of the forest until then.

Nature, however, had other plans.

Nictus came to a halt at the tree-line, looking out into the broad, gently rolling field. The tree-line across the way beckoned, promising the safety of miles of uninterrupted forest, separated from him by no more than a quarter mile of open ground. Looking both ways, he could see the tree-lines stretching on for miles, almost perfectly parallel.

It left him with a choice. Risk being seen crossing the field, or circle around, sticking to the trees, and lose a few hours of travel time. He was already well behind schedule, and all the evasion of the previous day had brought his progress to a crawl. If he had the time, the choice would be easy; why risk something on a chance, when a bit of extra time would ensure his success?

Time was, unfortunately, not on his side. Yes, it would only be a couple hours at most, but that was several miles of progress he would lose. Crossing the field would put him well ahead, as well as proving that those creatures were not following him, allowing him to travel more freely. And if they were still following him? Well, his wings were rested, only a faint ache running through his chest from their earlier use. He could evade them easily under those trees, and then he would have mile upon mile of cover to travel under. It was a risk, one he would not want to take if he had a choice, but at the moment it was the best option.

One factor was in his favor, at least. With a flicker of his magic, his form changed to that of a lean pegasus, the faded-green coat and mane a much closer match to the tall grass of the field than his natural glossy black. A little voice in the back of his mind was trying to think up a name for the new form, but he ignored it as irrelevant. This form was not intended to fool ponies. The creatures it was intended to fool were not going to ask him his name.

He snuck out from the cover of the trees with his body held low, hooves moving swiftly and precisely. The grass tickled at his belly and sides as he advanced. His eyes anxiously scanned the skies, expecting at any moment to see those creatures appear.

Right as he reached the very middle of the field, one of the creatures rose up from the trees behind him, wings pumping hard.

In an instant, Nictis leaped, shedding his disguise in mid-air as he took flight. Seeing its surprise lost, the beast let out a cry, answered moments later by several others. Risking a glance back, Nictis saw several more of them. The whole pack was chasing him, again.

And the morning had started so nicely.

He beat his wings as hard as he could, taking advantage of the lead he started with. Despite their advantage in speed, he reached the trees before them and hardly slowed down. The beasts, or at least the couple that tried to navigate through the trees, were not so agile. Under the trees, none of them could match his speed.

They were clever, though. Another pair flew over the canopy and crashed down through it, directly in Nictis's path. He swerved, the two creatures scrambling after him, while the previous pair flew up, out of the confines of the forest, and sped forward. The plan was obvious; keep diving in under the trees, chase him along, while the next pair dives in front of him.

The strange beasts might not be able to match him at his best, here under the canopy, but they didn't plan to. They were going to keep ambushing him, keep forcing him to fly all-out until he exhausted himself. Then, when he could no longer flee, they would have him.

As much as he hated to do so, he had to admit that it was a good plan.

Swerving again, he tried to put on a burst of speed, but already the fatigue was building in his wings. Soon he would begin to slow, and the slower he got, the easier it would be for the creatures to catch him. If he couldn't shake them soon, he'd have to spend even more of his dwindling energy on another portal.

Even that would be just delaying the inevitable. If they continued to pursue him, continued to force him to use his magic just to escape them, they'd run him dry.

Doesn't matter. Survive this first. Long-term can wait!

He burst out of the trees into a small clearing, putting on a burst of speed as he hurtled toward a small hill and the trees beyond.

The hill moved.

Nictis felt like his heart skipped a beat as the brown lump drew back, starting to lift off the ground. It twisted around like a giant tendril until a huge head swung around to stare straight at him with an eye as large as his entire body. Another head rose up to peer over it, then another.

He had seen a hydra once before, but only from above. From that perspective, it was easy to take the experience lightly. Coming face-to-face with one, Nictis was suddenly struck by just how big it was.

As the giant beast opened its jaws, Nictis shot straight up, desperate to get away from the humongous beast that bellowed after him. The flying creatures that had been pursuing him scattered, but only for a moment. Once they saw him out of the hydra's reach, they lunged in again. Nictis only just saw the first one coming in time and twisted away, but felt an impact on his side that sent him tumbling; the creature's claws had struck him, leaving a gouge in his carapace, but the chitinous shell held. Righting himself, he had only a moment to snap off a panicked fire-bolt at the next attacker. He had put almost no energy in it, leaving it too weak to do any notable damage even if it had hit, but the flash of flame was enough to convince the creature to veer away. It wasn't going to risk being hurt by its prey, not when there was no need for it.

Spinning around, Nictis flung out two more fire-bolts, little sparks of flame intended to simply keep the beasts at bay without spending too much of his limited magical reserves. They circled, darting in to provoke and distract him, attempting to bait him into exposing himself. Even as most of the pack circled, two had climbed higher into the sky, angling down to dive at him.

Below them, the hydra roared out, each of its heads looking eager to catch any of them that strayed too low.

His mind raced, trying to find a way out of the situation. He couldn't get to cover, couldn't out-run them, and certainly couldn't out-fight all of them. He couldn't even fire-portal away, as there were no solid surfaces up in the sky for him to use.

The two above him had tucked their wings in to dive at him. He needed to get out of this situation, and now. His thoughts went to the soldiers of the hive, and in particular, a spell he had seen them practicing. He'd never done it himself, but the concept was simple enough. Some summoned flame, a bit of telekinesis, and he should be good. Probably.

He pitched down, wings buzzing full-strength as he plummeted toward the hydra below, the entire pack of creatures behind him crying out and diving to pursue.

As he dove, he focused his magic. A sheath of flame surrounded his horn, abruptly flaring out to form a fiery wake around him. The hydra bellowed out angrily but pulled back from the sudden fireball. He had a clear path, now--straight to the ground. It rushed up at him with a terrifying speed, only a moment away.

There was no time for reservation. Conservation could wait until he wasn't moments away from death. He focused on his magic, pouring it out in a sudden torrent. The other spell began to fail as he did, the sheath of flame flickering away, while a few fresh flames popped up on the ground below.

Nictis grit his teeth. This was going to require perfect, split-second timing, or it was going to all go horribly wrong. Tucking his head in, he braced for the impact.

On the plus side, if I screw this up it won't hurt for long.

The impact was the most jarring, full-body shock he had ever felt, matched perfectly with a flash of brilliant green flame. The jolt sent him into a reeling daze, the world a blur of activity. The fire wisped away in an instant, and he distantly noted that he was in the air again. Green, brown, blue, all flashed through his vision in a rapid blur. Another impact; to his muddled mind, it came through not as pain but a sudden dull ache in his back without any source or reason. Nothing made sense anymore. Another ache spread through his side, and he felt the breath leaving his body. The world had all turned to a blurry brown. Something was resting against his back.

Some indiscernible amount of time passed before the pain finally seeped through his muddled thoughts. He gasped, then grit his teeth, only barely choking back a cry as the feeling returned to him. He curled in on himself, still gasping for breath.

Slowly the world began to refocus.

Nictis was laying in the dirt, a broken branch resting across his back. Trees loomed over him, sheltering him under their canopy. He'd done it. The timing might not have been perfect, but he'd pulled it off. He'd formed a fire-portal as he fell, and hit it perfectly. Well, almost perfectly.

A roar caught his ears, echoing through the trees. He shifted, pushing himself up--and immediately choked back a cry of pain as his left foreleg gave out immediately. Taking a moment to recover, he pushed himself up with the right, instead, the wounded limb clutched tightly to his side.

Rising up enough to see over the low bush he had landed beside, he could see the hydra in the distance, roaring at the flying creatures that circled it angrily. One of them lay at the hydra's feet, unmoving. It must have flown too close trying to pursue him.

Nictis sank back down, cradling the injured leg.

For a few minutes, he simply lay there, ignoring the pain. He was simply too happy to be alive. That happiness was short-lived, however, as he surveyed his injuries. His left foreleg was badly injured, to the point it hurt to move it at all, a deep crack splitting the chitin just above the knee. A touch of his hoof to his face made him wince, revealing another crack running along the side of his head. The ache running through his body made him feel lucky that his back hadn't been broken, and when he finally managed to turn his stiff neck enough, he could see that the edge of his left wing had been folded back in a very disturbing fashion.

He slumped back against the ground, slowly recovering his breath as the distant sound of the predators shrieking and roaring at each other continued in the background. It wasn't so bad, he tried to reason with himself despite the pain. Yes, it hurt--oh, it hurt so much--but that was temporary. The wounds would heal. The magical energies he held would see to that.

Unfortunately, that was now part of the problem. He had burnt a huge amount of energy in his escape, and now more would be drained by his body healing itself. Had it been too much? A few days should probably see him healed up enough to travel at full speed, although perhaps without the flying. Past the lingering fog of pain, he worked a few numbers.

He whimpered a little at the results. If all went well, he'd have a few days' worth of energy left by the time he reached the badlands. Perhaps a week, at most. If he hadn't found the hive by then, he'd starve. That was even assuming that everything went as well as planned, a thought that brought a grimace to his face.

Nothing had gone as planned. He should be scouring the badlands already, but instead, he hadn't even made it halfway there. He should have been able to fly for hours, but his own lack of personal care and exercise had left him completely unfit for the journey. The wildlife plagued him, turning an already lengthy journey into a treacherous hunt. Now, with him already injured, further delays were almost inevitable.

He couldn't do it.

Nictis let out a weak, shuddering sigh. If he kept on, he'd probably die in this forest. He'd starve to death, assuming some predator didn't eat him first. And why?

Because I was stupid. Because I was so excited by the idea of going home that I rushed right into it without thinking, or planning, without even knowing what I was getting myself into.

He closed his eyes, shuddering faintly. For the first time since he was separated from it, the hive felt so close, and yet he could not make it.

I can try again. He drew a deep breath, trying to calm himself, and ignoring the piercing pain along his side that accompanied the action. Yes. I can go back and recover. I'll prepare, exercise my wings until I can make the flight. Just because I... I failed, this time, doesn't mean I can't try again when I'm ready.

Slowly, tediously, he pushed himself up to a sitting position. His side screamed at him when he put any weight on it, leaving him sitting somewhat lopsided, breath hissing through his clenched teeth. He tried to cling to the hope of another attempt, with himself better prepared, but the pain made it hard to focus on anything beyond surviving these woods. Wearily, he pushed himself up to his hooves, left foreleg still held up against his side. The world seemed to waver a bit as he struggled to keep himself righted, and began to walk.

Crunch.

For a single instant, he thought that he had just broken his hoof or his leg; that some unnoticed injury had abruptly worsened as he put weight on it. The thought passed as no pain followed the sound, and he carefully stepped back. Something glittered softly on the ground.

He leaned down, unsteadily. It was a shard of glass, now broken into smaller fragments. A couple other glimmers caught his attention, a few other tiny fragments scattered around. He stared at them for several long seconds, his thoughts slowly working their way through the sludge that seemed to fill his mind. He sat back on his haunches, hard, ignoring the pain that lanced through his side at the impact, his hoof going to his chest to grab his compass.

It was crushed. The glass face had been broken out, one side of the case smashed in. Dirt littered the inside, and the needle wavered drunkenly, scraping against the warped case. It must have been under him when he hit the ground, or when he was tumbling.

He had broken it.

He had failed. Because of his own foolishness, his own incompetence, he had failed, and in the process, he had ruined the only possession that mattered to him. It was the only thing he had left of her, and he couldn't even keep it safe.

Nictis trudged listlessly through the darkened forest. The injuries had begun to heal over the past few days--he could now put weight on his left foreleg without it hurting--but he still felt a terrible, persistent numbness. He just continued on in a haze, the broken compass tapping lightly against his chest with each step.

It had been three days since the last time his life had been in danger, and it seemed the forest had decided that was long enough.

Where three days of hiking had failed to draw him out of that haze, the faint movement in the bushes nearby brought about his attention in an instant. All the practice in stealth and detection brought about a reflexive response, jerking away and turning to face the potential threat.

Seeing that it had been discovered, the timberwolf advanced, and all around Nictis, the rest of the pack emerged from the forest, eyes fixed on him.

Nictis narrowed his eyes, a fire building inside him. He had failed at his journey, been hunted, hurt, dragged through Tartarus on this doomed little excursion, and now that he was slinking back to Equestria in shame, now he had another problem to deal with. He grit his teeth and looked around at the slowly advancing predators. A little voice told him to flee, to escape, but he silenced it.

Instead, he slowly turned, looking over the timberwolves until he had presented his flank to the one he had first spotted, the nearest.

As he expected, it took the opportunity he had offered it and lunged for him. His reaction was planned and swift. A flash of green enveloped his horn as he turned, and blasted a bolt of fire into the leaping timberwolf, bringing its leap to an abrupt halt and sending it crashing to the ground. It flailed, howling out in pain as parts of it smoldered. The pack surged forward, but he arced around with a loud snarl, sending up a fan of flames. The beasts shrank back with startled yelps.

Nictis turned to the wounded timberwolf, still writhing about as it tried to extinguish itself. Nictis glared down at it, baring his teeth in a predatory snarl. Again his horn lit up, and he brought it down. A blast of green immolated the downed timberwolf, a sharp howl of agony piercing the night before everything went still and silent.

He looked around, watching as the timberwolves slowly and silently withdrew into the forest, the shadows flickering in the light of the fire.

And just like that, the rage in him died.

Nictis sat down hard, choking back a sob. It seemed so hopeless. He was hopeless. He wasn't in control of anything, anymore, even his own emotions. For just a moment, it had felt as if he was in control. He could control the conflict. He could defeat the creatures attacking him.

It was a lie, one he had convinced himself of. He wasn't in control. He'd just gotten angry, lashed out. He had been nothing more than an angry nymph throwing a tantrum. He could have escaped easily, just taken to the air and landed in a tree. That would have been control. That would have been restraint, intelligent. Instead, he wasted more of his dwindling energy on a fight he could have avoided, energy he couldn't spare.

Did he even have enough to make it back?

He shook himself, forcing himself up. He rose into the air, ignoring the pain in his wing as he drifted up into the upper limbs of a tree. He sunk into the crook of a branch, wanting nothing more than to sleep.

He felt so tired.

The light of day slowly faded as night fell over Equestria. One by one, the lights went out in the windows of every town, little wisps of smoke rising from chimneys with the last of the evening's fires. The world grew still, the activity of day abandoned as everypony withdrew from the cold and dark of the spring night. Soon, only the stars and the moon stood witness to the silent world.

Tap.

Scrape. Tap.

Thump.

It was the final sound that finally drew a response. The door opened, propelled faster by the form slumped against it. Inside the doorway, Misty Dawn started, eyes falling on a familiar sight from years ago: a brown unicorn, dirty and bedraggled.

"Meadow!"

Meadow Song tried to speak, to say anything, but she couldn't form the words. She only barely recognized the feeling of Misty clutching her in her forelegs. Words were being spoken, but they didn't register.

The only thing that her mind could focus on was the wonderful sensation of sympathy and concern pouring into her senses, emotions she devoured with a ravenous hunger.

Chapter 10: Renewal

Chapter 10: Renewal

The bitter emptiness of hunger was gone. Instead, as consciousness slowly returned to her, she felt the faint, comforting feeling of energy flowing through her, filling her. Even through the groggy haze, the sleep still clinging to her senses, she recognized the wonderful feeling. She had never been so drained, so hungry. To feel that energy inside her again, however small it was, was almost blissful.

Slowly, she grew aware of her surroundings. Her brain was slow to recognize the soft, golden glow of sunlight filtering into the small, dusty room, and even slower to piece together where she was. She had woken in Starry--no, in Ceymi's bed. The faint tension that had begun to creep up quickly faded away as recognition came. She was safe.

She couldn't quite remember how she got there, but that wasn't important. She was there, safe, disguised.

Meadow sat up, or more correctly, she tried to. A soft groan escaped her lips as her back left the bed, and she collapsed, every muscle protesting against the movement. She lay there, sinking slightly into the old, soft mattress, taking several minutes to build up the resolve to push away the thick blankets and try again. She groaned again at the complaints of her body, but she forced herself up to sit on the edge of the bed.

She wavered slightly, ready to topple over at any moment. Even just sitting there, even with the fresh emotional energy and a full night's sleep in a comfortable bed, she could barely keep herself upright. She felt so weak. So drained. The fatigue clung to her, the deep aches and bruises telling of just how badly abused her body was by the experience.

It took her even longer to force her way to her hooves, her injured leg--most injured, anyway--giving out the moment she put weight on it, nearly sending her face-first to the floor. Recovering, she grit her teeth, and deliberately placed the hoof down again, leaning more of her weight on it. If her body didn't want to cooperate, she would will it to obey her. Her leg wavered, a dull pain building through the limb, but it held.

On unsteady hooves, Meadow slowly limped to the door, grasping the knob in her teeth. She didn't dare use her magic right now, not with how foggy her mind was. As the door opened, the faintly dusty scent of the rarely-used room was washed away by a wonderful smell: freshly-cooked pancakes. She took in a deep breath of the long-absent, but fondly remembered scent, before hobbling her way closer.

Years had passed since the last time she had walked down the hall she found herself in, but she remembered her way. Attention to detail was one of the many things Ceymi had drilled into her head. It certainly didn't hurt that the house was small and simply laid-out, nor that there was such a delicious scent to follow.

Gray Oak turned from the griddle as she entered the kitchen, eyes widening a bit in surprise. "Meadow!" The pancakes momentarily forgotten, he hurried over to her side, raising a leg to help support her. "You shouldn't be out of bed. You're in bad shape, you need to be getting rest, not running about hurting yourself more!"

"...'m fine," she mumbled in reply, trying to force her way to the table.

"No you're not," he said firmly, but despite his protests, he helped her along to the nearest chair. "You're trembling, and you can barely stand. You need to be in bed recovering."

No I don't, she thought. I need food. "Hungry," she croaked, surprising herself by how weak her voice sounded.

"We can bring you food in bed, little filly. You don't need to go pushing yourself like this." Yes I do, she thought, slowly settling herself onto the chair. She groaned softly as the weight came off her hooves.

It was Misty that spoke next, in a quiet and unsteady voice. "At least promise you'll rest once you've had some food?"

Meadow looked to her side, only now noticing Misty sitting there, bundled up in blankets and clutching a steaming mug. How... how did I not notice her there before? Meadow blinked, turning to glance toward Gray, and tried to ignore how the whole room seemed to lurch with the movement.

The words finally made their way through the thickness filling her head. "Oh. Uh, yeah. I'll rest. I just... I'm so hungry..."

Misty nodded slowly, leaning back in her chair to gingerly sip at her drink. Her eyes were half-lidded, almost withdrawn, her complexion a bit on the pale side. She looks terrible, Meadow thought. How much did I feed on her, last night? Memories came in fragments. She remembered cradling hooves supporting her body. The feast of emotion that she gladly devoured, so wonderful after the long hunger. Misty, exhausted, excusing herself. Herself staggering through the dimly-lit hall, helped into the bed by Gray. Blackness.

Meadow could still feel the sympathy and concern coming from Misty. Even as drained and exhausted as she must feel, the mare still held such a strong feeling for her. Meadow could have likely fed until Misty was nearly unresponsive, but instead, she pressed back at the wisps of emotion. Better to let her recover for later. The slightly fainter emotions coming from Gray Oak would suffice for now.

Meadow realized she must have zoned out when a plate of pancakes was set before her. She blinked, trying to focus on it for a moment, before giving a soft, "Thank you."

Gray returned to the griddle as she began to eat, and a moment later, Misty spoke again. "It was so... so shocking to see you there on our doorstep, again, and looking so..." she trailed off, face scrunched up in a wince as she raised a hoof to her head, rubbing at her headache. "...What happened?"

Meadow used the mouthful of food to delay a moment, trying to force her sluggish brain to think faster. The thought of speaking without fully thinking out the consequences of what she said was vaguely terrifying. It went against everything she had been taught, everything she had practiced. Despite that, she had to answer, even though she knew she wasn't thinking clearly. The best she could hope for was to go with the truth. She'd just have to omit any details that might give her away. No mention of seeking out the hive, no details of her real injuries, cracked carapace and all.

Or flying. Definitely no flying. That would be bad.

Reluctantly swallowing, she finally spoke. "I was... well, kind of on an expedition in the Everfree Forest..."

She felt the sudden fear coming from Misty, her exhausted eyes widening just slightly. "Oh. Oh, no. W-what happened to everypony else?"

Meadow quickly shook her head, a hoof gripping at the table when the motion made her dizzy. "No... nopony else. I was on my own."

"What?" Misty's eyes widened more, mouth dropping open. "Oh, Meadow Song, how could you do something so dangerous and... a-and so foolish?"

Meadow's ears pinned back. A voice in the back of her head was saying that she should be offended at being criticized so by a pony, but she just felt too tired to do so. The fact that it was an entirely valid and accurate criticism certainly didn't hurt. Ceymi's criticisms would have been far harsher, yet perfectly well deserved. "I was just... so eager to get out there," she said with a sigh, eyes turning down to her pancakes as she idly poked at one of them. "I had the opportunity, everything seemed right. So I just went." She sighed, taking another bite of her pancakes, trying to distract herself with the taste.

"A little patience can go a long way," Gray noted from the griddle. A hint of irritation rose up in Meadow, but it guttered and died almost as swiftly.

"I know you must feel so eager to get out there," Misty said, smiling as she tilted her head to indicate Meadow's cutie mark. "I remember how Starry was. She wanted to get right out there too, start finding lost civilizations and ancient ruins, but she knew better than to go rushing into it, even despite how badly she wanted to. She knew she couldn't do everything on her own, so she took her time, planned, and organized a whole expedition. You just need to take it a little slower, is all."

And I know how well that turned out, Meadow thought grumpily, until another thought suddenly struck her: an expedition. A team of ponies to give security from wildlife, to carry supplies, and more importantly, for food. She didn't need to stock up on love here in Equestria before she set out. She could bring it with her! Food, that is, emotional food, was the one limiting factor to her exploration. She could eliminate that limitation, just like that.

Of course, that meant bringing ponies along. They couldn't be told what they were really looking for, of course. She'd have to come up with something else, but that would be easy. She could just make up something about rumors of some lost city or some nonsense like that. The ponies certainly couldn't accompany her to the hive itself, though. At best, they could follow to the edge of the forest, perhaps setting up a base camp there for her to explore further. Although even that might be too much. If she just disappeared, having found the hive, they might go looking for her. They might even go back with word of her disappearance, encouraging more to go looking for her.

She frowned a little as she continued to eat. Leaving ponies with even a vague idea that something interesting lay hidden in that area would be unacceptable. She could keep the destination of the expedition secret, but those ponies would know where they had been. Then again...

Meadow slowly smiled. They could only tell other ponies where they had been if they made it back. What could be better than an Infiltrator showing up with a full load of love, and several ponies to sustain the hive? A small expedition of three or four other ponies would be a substantial amount of food for the hive. The whole feeding chamber had only, what, twenty cocoons? Less? Bringing along those walking love-generators would be a huge boon, both to herself and the hive.

All she needed to do was gather a few ponies willing to go with her, and acquire the gear needed for the trip.

The smile suddenly vanished.

And that means I need money. Again.

When breakfast was finished, they all made their way to the living room. Gray had initially insisted that she go back to bed, but she had pleaded with them until they let her lay on the couch, instead. Claiming that she had spent far too much time alone, and just needed to have some company after the "traumatic" experience in the forest, had made for a strong argument. Tearing up as she said it sealed the deal. Gray's slowly-growing headache and feeling of lethargy probably helped some, too, leaving the stallion too weary to argue against her.

Meadow did not at all feel the need to be resting, not anymore. The sympathy she had been taking in had done wonders, clearing up the last of the fog in her mind, pushing the fatigue slowly out of her body. Despite that, she recognized it would probably not be the best impression to be active and energetic when her hosts were so worn-down.

She was not, however, lying about needing company. She had been drained almost dry, and it was taking a lot to replenish her reserves after such a strenuous exertion. The energy she had taken in had been mostly burnt off to mend her body. Despite feeding so well off of both of them, she found herself still hungry. Sadly, in their weakened state, Misty and Gray were giving off rather diminished emotions, limiting the amount she could pull from them. At least she didn't have to worry about draining them too much, this way.

Once they had all settled in, the questions started.

Despite looking like she was close to nodding off, Misty was very curious to hear what Meadow had been up to, while Gray simply sat back quietly, listening. That posed a slight problem. Almost everything interesting since leaving the orphanage was stuff that she really didn't want to tell them about. She doubted that discussing the finer points of burglary would go over well, nor the methods for gaining popularity in nightclubs. Or Cherry Runner. She didn't want to even think of that.

As a result, Meadow found it rather awkward, a rambling discussion of all sorts of minutiae that wasn't terribly interesting. She told them about meeting Wheatstalk and getting a small job there. She spoke of some of the more interesting people she had met. Misty seemed particularly interested when she heard of Balance Line, prompting a conversation far too long for such a boring pony, and yet Misty seemed so excited about it. "I'm so happy for you," she had said, only to be disappointed to find out that they were not a couple anymore. And never were, Meadow wanted to correct, but she kept quiet. Best to leave the misconception in place rather than prolonging that topic.

Mentioning the time spent sleeping in an alley might have been a bit of a mistake, however.

"You what?" Misty said, surprise clear even in her voice. Gray, rather more restrained in his reactions, merely raised an eyebrow, though the feelings coming from him were every bit as strong.

Meadow blinked at that reaction. Sure, she knew it wasn't "proper," but she hadn't expected the strength of reaction it drew. "It wasn't any worse than when I was camping in the Everfree," she said quickly. "Rather better, actually. Well, except when it rained. And it was a lot cheaper than an apartment."

Misty looked anxiously at her. "Have you been homeless since you left the orphanage?"

"Oh, no!" Meadow smiled, trying to look as reassuring as possible. "It was just for a couple nights. I had an apartment for the rest of the time."

Misty's questioning look lingered for a few moments, as if searching for something, before finally relaxing again. "And this apartment, do you still have it?"

"Oh. No, I left the place when I went out to the Everfree."

"How about your job?"

"Er, no."

Misty's questioning look returned. "Do you at least have some money saved up?"

The sight of Meadow's ears folding back and her awkward look answered the question as well as words.

"Oh, Meadow," she sighed. The room grew silent, a silence that Meadow felt was cruelly judging her failure. She barely caught the sight of Misty looking over to Gray, who nodded very slightly.

The old mare gave a slow sigh. "Meadow, if you need a place to stay while you get back on your hooves, you're welcome to stay here with us."

Meadow's ears perked up as she turned to look back to her. As she began to open her mouth, Misty weakly raised a hoof to cut her off. "We have the spare bedroom, and I'm not going to put you out on the streets when you don't have a place to say. Sending you away to... to the orphanage, it's something I've always felt bad about. I know it was the right choice, we couldn't have taken care of a foal on our own, but it didn't make it any easier. Consider this a bit of a way to make up for it."

"Thank you," Meadow replied, a very genuine smile on her face. A comfortable bed to sleep in, and all the love I could ask for. This couldn't be more perfect!

"It's not a free ride, of course," Gray added. "You're old enough to be responsible for yourself, even if you might have made some questionable decisions in the past. You'll have to pull your own weight, but we'll help you out. Sound good?"

"Yes, of course!" Even without knowing exactly what they expected of her in exchange, it was too good of a deal to pass up. A bit of hard work would be well worth the food she was getting.

"We might even be able to help you get some work," Misty said. "So many ponies need help these days, after all, and I'm sure a fit young unicorn like you could do wonders around town. It might not be much, but it should do until you can get a real job."

"Thank you," Meadow repeated.

Misty nodded, then let out a deep yawn. "Oh, dear. Well, you rest up. I think I might just go take a nap. I wouldn't want to be all worn out and tired for the gathering tomorrow."

Meadow let curiosity get the better of her. "What's going on tomorrow?"

Standing, Misty stretched and groaned softly. "Oof. Oh, Red Ridge is holding a big potluck for everypony that's coming to help raise the new barn, since the last one disappeared."

There was a soft chuckle from Gray, while Meadow simply blinked in surprise. "...How does a building disappear?"

Gray was chuckling a little more as Misty answered. "Oh, we had a real nasty storm blow in from the Everfree a few nights back. Tore shingles off half the houses around. Even that emergency weather team from Cloudsdale couldn't keep the thing under control. Anyway, Red was hunkered down in his house that night, and he heard all this crashing and such past the wind. When morning came and the storm was passed, he looked outside, and just like that, no more barn."

"Probably blew off with the wind," Gray said, his chuckles finally under control.

"Maybe not. Stargazer said she saw the silhouette of something huge come out of the forest near his farm, followed by the sound of wood breaking. Might have been another monster."

Gray waved a hoof dismissively. "Oh, Stargazer sees a lot of things. Remember when she said she saw a bunch of stars walk out of the forest and steal Honeydew's chicken coop?"

"It could have happened," Misty said, somewhat defensively. "Stranger things have come out of the Everfree, and you shouldn't dismiss her just because it sounds unlikely."

"Even when the chicken coop was still right where it belonged?"

Misty smiled. "Maybe the stars felt guilty and put it back?" That prompted a good-natured laugh from Gray. "Besides, we haven't seen that hydra for years, it's got to be due to come back."

"Wait, a hydra?" Meadow blurted, suddenly shocked by the topic. She'd been much too close to a hydra to take them as lightly as these ponies were.

"Oh, yeah," Misty said with a casual nod. "He used to wander by, looking for food. Ate a few grain silos in his time. Haven't seen him for a long time, but maybe he got hungry for another building."

Meadow stared at them, which prompted an unconcerned shrug from Gray. "Lots of strange things come out of the Everfree," he explained.

She simply lay back, rather concerned by this development. Right. So not only are ponies ridiculous, they also seem to have no sense of self-preservation. Then she looked around. ...And here I am, living right among them in a house on the edge of the Everfree. I must be crazy.

Red Ridge was a fairly simple-looking earth pony, with a coat color befitting his name, short brown mane and tail, and a cutie mark of a hammer. Anything he might have lacked for plainness, he more than made up for in the quality of the gathering he had organized. At least forty ponies were gathered around, and a set of long tables had been set out for all the food that had been brought along. Everywhere, ponies were mingling, gossiping, and laughing, and Red Ridge's deep voice and deeper laughter seemed to carry over the whole crowd.

In some ways, it reminded her of the time spent at the pub and nightclubs. Less music, but more (and better) food. The average age of the crowd was rather older, too. Despite those differences, it was familiar. A large crowd of ponies gathered around, all having a good time, the perfect hunting grounds for a weary changeling.

Better yet, she didn't even have to work at it. Misty and Gray took her around, making introductions. All the ponies seemed immediately friendly, and even more so when she was described as a friend of their daughter's. The group proved to be a very caring one, and Meadow quite happily fed on the plentiful emotions.

By the time everypony was gathering around to do the actual work that they had shown up to do, she was feeling rather wonderfully full. That proved quite handy for making a good impression. With a friendly smile, she threw herself into the work, burning off a fair portion of the energy she had gathered to help with the heavy lifting, her magic doing the same work as several other ponies and earning some very happy compliments. Even with the lingering fatigue--which was vanishing quickly in the company of so many friendly ponies--the work was easy for her.

It was getting dark by the time they were done erecting the building. The gathering took on an almost celebratory air, and by the time it was done, everypony was stuffed and quite ready for sleep.

The next day, Meadow set out, under Misty's directions, to help out one of the elderly couple's friends. The directions were simple enough, and soon she was trotting up to a weather-damaged cottage. A knock on the door was answered moments later by an old, faded-gold earth pony mare, who smiled broadly. "Ah, Meadow! It's so good to see you again. Did Misty send you over?"

"Yep," Meadow replied with a friendly smile, enjoying the friendly feelings coming from the mare. It was such a pleasant surprise to still receive such positive feelings from somepony she had met only once before. "She said there was something I could help out with?"

"Oh, yes," Honeydew said, gesturing up with her hoof. "That storm we had tore up my roof something awful, just ripped off whole bundles of shingles. I've gotten the replacements, but I'm not quite as young as I once was, and I'm not quite sure I trust myself atop a ladder all day long. I suppose with your magic it should be nice and easy, though, considering what I saw of it yesterday!"

Meadow took a step back to look up at the roof. She still wasn't very familiar with pony architecture, but it lacked the symmetrical, unbroken pattern that many other roofs were sporting, and there were a few patches where the wood of the roof was completely exposed. "Well, I might need some instruction on what to do, I've never worked on a roof before. But that should be pretty easy."

Under Honeydew's instructions, she was soon levitating shingles into the gaps and hammering them into place. It provided an interesting challenge, accurately hammering nails up on the roof while she stood on the ground. After the first few had proven the task to be simple enough, the two of them fell into chatting while she worked; Meadow talked a little of her time in the Everfree Forest, leaving out all the worst details, while Honeydew talked at length about the goings-on there in Hoofington. Honeydew even provided some lemonade and sandwiches.

By the time Meadow left, she felt quite pleased by how things were going. The work was quick and simple, and better yet, it was the kind of work that built appreciation and even friendship in these ponies. It ingratiated her with them. So long as she gave even a little effort at this, she would never go hungry. She even began to entertain thoughts of slowly impressing more and more ponies, until she had gained the favor of the entire town. A whole town, all giving their love freely to her.

No, it wasn't like her time in Manehattan at all. If anything, it was more like her time in the orphanage. For some reason, that thought brought out a smile.

Sadly, she didn't earn any bits for helping Honeydew out, instead receiving a large, freshly-baked blackberry pie. It wasn't what she had been hoping for, of course. Pie doesn't pay for an expedition into the Everfree Forest. It was, however, delicious, which mollified her somewhat. Gray and Misty were quite happy for the tasty dessert after dinner.

In many ways, it seemed life in Hoofington was very simple and quiet, at least to judge by Misty and Gray. When they were not visiting or hosting friends, they would usually be found sitting in the living room, with Misty knitting, and Gray either thoroughly reading through the newspaper or reading from a book. He even had quite the stack of older papers, gathered for recycling. Meadow looked through them one night, finding that almost every issue for the past two weeks had discussed the "vicious" attack on a security guard in Manehattan. A couple even included sketches of the suspect, showing a rather accurate portrayal of Coal.

While "simple and quiet" could easily mean "dull and boring," it also meant she had plenty of time to herself, time that she could put to good use. There were few expectations of her, and other than bringing home some food and money from her assistance around town, she had no responsibilities or obligations. Instead, she had plenty of time to plan and prepare.

The most basic preparation, and the easiest to do, was exercise. That would have proven difficult in town; it's hard to exercise one's wings when they aren't physically there, and shape-shifting to bring them into existence would bring all sorts of other problems. Fortunately, the Everfree provided the perfect training ground.

Meadow Song trotted through the thick forest with a casual air that few ponies could match, given the location. Even among those living right there on its border, it was discussed in wary tones, a source of mysterious danger. Few ever crossed over its borders, with most of those being pegasi, who kept themselves well above the treetops and anything that might lurk beneath them. It made for the perfect secluded getaway, where no prying eyes could watch.

About a mile into the forest, in a tiny valley, she decided she was sufficiently safe from observation. She looked around for a bit, before finding a fairly distinctive outcropping of rocks beside a tiny stream. Exercising her hidden and disused natural form had been the primary purpose in going out there, but there was another, even more important reason.

Her magic pulled at the ground at the base of the rocky outcropping, eventually excavating a small hole. Into it, she placed a small, wooden box, her stolen map folded inside of it, and replaced the dirt. The papers had made much speculation over why the mysterious assailant, who had only stolen money before, had that time instead stolen part of a map. Fortunately, the fragment had covered almost half of the Everfree forest, which would hopefully be too much territory for the Guards to actually investigate. Despite that, the thought of giving even a weak clue as to where the hive was located brought out a guilty feeling. I should have torched the rest of the map, she thought as she looked down at the mound of dirt. It was careless of her. Holding onto the map, the only thing that could possibly link Meadow to the attack, was even more careless.

Meadow paused at the thought. No. No, it's not. It's not even close! She grit her teeth, ears folding back. It would be an inconvenience and most. How could I think something so selfish? I might have endangered the whole hive with my carelessness, and my biggest concern is that I might have to abandon one of my disguises if I'm found out?

She snorted angrily and turned away, determined to move on to the exercises she had come out here to do. Green flame flashed, stripping away the disguise to reveal his true form.

Nictis scowled, even as he looked down at his own hooves. It was so many years since he last saw the hive. So much of his time growing up, and his entire adult life, had been spent among ponies. He was constantly surrounded by them, immersed in their culture, assaulted by their ideas. He had grown accustomed to their easy life of luxury, enough to miss it when it was gone, despite his determination to stay strong and focused. He learned to think more and more like them, so as to disguise himself more naturally, but now...

Am I forgetting how to be a changeling?

He grumbled and spread his wings, taking to the air with a soft buzz. He had exercises to do.

The next step in preparations was planning, which proved to have one significant problem: Meadow had no idea what a proper wilderness expedition needed.

Fortunately, she knew how to solve this. All she needed to do was visit the library.

The Hoofington library was a small building, with an air of disuse about it, despite the very friendly presence of Silverlight, the mare who oversaw the place. She was quite happy to help out, quickly searching out several books on the history of exploration. She seemed even more pleased when Meadow asked specifically for any that included the more technical details. The elderly mare seemed so happy to see somepony so interested in knowledge.

And so, Meadow spent many of those quiet evenings sitting quietly in the living room, sharing the company of Gray and Misty while she read from the books she had checked out, pausing occasionally to make notes in the small journal she had purchased.

Meadow was studying a new book, almost two weeks after her arrival in Hoofington, when Misty returned from a lengthy errand with a small box.

"These are for you," Misty said, smiling broadly as she set the box on the coffee table before Meadow. "Something from the orphanage."

Curious as to what the orphanage could possibly be sending her, Meadow took the box in her magic. Opening it, she found that it held a bundle of letters. Each had a name, some that she knew well, others that were only vaguely familiar. Thunder Chaser, Limelight, Blueberry, Cotton Candy, and so many others. The name that caught her attention the most was, of course, Spark Wheel.

"Crimson Heart told me that she sent a letter to each of the children who wrote for you, to let them know what had happened. She kept the letters with the hope that someday she would be able to deliver them. She was so happy to hear that you had been found and that you were well."

"Thank you," Meadow said softly, staring at the letters for a moment before curiosity overtook her. She pulled out Spark Wheel's letter, opening it.

Dear Meadow Song,

I just finished unpacking. Manechester is kind of weird, but nice so far. I think it'll be a while before I can think of this as "home." I was so worried that I'd never be adopted, and now that I have, I'm feeling a bit lost. It's a little scary, but a little exciting, too.

Sunseeker and Willow Leaf seem very nice. I don't know if I'll be able to think of them as my parents, but they're very friendly, and seem very happy to have me. It's all a bit much to take in, so I'm still not sure how I feel about it. Other than exhausted. I've been bouncing around all day in excitement. I should be asleep, but I wanted to write you as soon as I could. So I guess I'm really, really happy, even if I'm a bit worried, too.

This letter is kind of a mess. I think I'm rambling. Sorry, I've never been good writing letters, even after all the letters to Cotton and the others that we wrote. Can you ramble in writing, or does that only count for speaking?

It's weird that I have to send a letter in order to talk to you. I guess I got so used to you always being there that it seems so strange without you here. I hope I can see you again.

Your friend,

Spark Wheel

Meadow searched out a fresh piece of paper. She would read each of the letters and reply to them all, of course, but this one came first.

The days passed easily, almost routinely. It was the kind of simplicity that might be boring, if not for how well things were going. A few hours of light work gave her all the food she could need, while her exercise and planning continued at a good pace. She could fly steadily for over an hour now, and was making steady progress at improving that.

It almost made up for the sudden realization she had one day, during those exercises, that she had been very stupid. She could shape-shift. That meant she could have changed into a perfectly-fit pegasus, complete with well-toned flight muscles. The kind of pegasus that could fly all day long with hardly any fatigue, who could, say, handle a flight across the Everfree forest with ease. She was very glad that noling was around to observe the rather embarrassing realization that she had overlooked a solution that was so basic that it could be described as intrinsic to her very existence as a changeling.

Ceymi would have been so disappointed.

That did not stop her exercises, however. If anything, it spurred her on. After all, now it would be a point of pride to fly back to the hive in her natural form. It's not because I forgot something so simple, it's because this is just the right way to do it. Yeah.

Despite that embarrassment, it was a pleasant time. Not only was she well-fed on the affection of those she helped, but she had a good place to stay, company that was pleasant yet quiet and unobtrusive--letting her soak in the gentle affection while not disturbing her studying--and physical food that she could only describe as incredible. Gray certainly knew how to cook.

Yet none of that brought about quite as much happiness as when a letter arrived, addressed to her. She took it, flopping back on the couch to read.

Dear Meadow Song,

It's so good to hear from you! When Crimson Heart wrote me to say that you had left, I was so worried. I guess I shouldn't have been too afraid, though. You've always been so capable, I know you can take care of yourself. I guess I was more worried that I wouldn't hear from you again. Getting your letter really made my day!

Can I ask what happened? I imagine you've been up to a lot more interesting things than I have. I've been having a good time, Manechester is actually really nice, but I figure you've probably got some good stories by now.

I've missed being able to talk to you. I'm so happy that I can at least write to you again.

Your friend,

Spark Wheel

Meadow smiled. No matter what other setbacks she might have suffered, the letter was proof that she was not some incompetent failure. She had built up a bond with a pony that had stayed strong after most of a year's absence. If that was not proof that she was a skilled Infiltrator, then what was?

"Thanks again, Sapwood," Meadow called out as she shut the front gate of the little home, happily tucking a little pouch and its twenty bits into her saddlebags. Twenty more bits toward the expedition fund, she thought with a smile, before adding, only several thousand more to go...

"Oh, like you should be thanking me," Sapwood replied from the door of the house, the yellow mare giving a soft laugh and a dismissive wave of her hoof. "I can't imagine how long it would have taken us to get that all done without your help. You're a lifesaver!"

"I'm just glad I could help. You don't need to pay me for it." Please, please, please, of all the lies I tell, don't believe that one.

Fortunately, Sapwood just waved her hoof again, letting out a cheery laugh. "Nonsense! I'll always have something to give to anypony who's so generous and helpful with their time. In fact, if you'd like to make even more, then make sure to come by next week. We're starting up the early preparations for the Summer Sun Celebration, and we could surely use your magic to help!"

There it is again, Meadow noted. Sapwood was now the third pony to mention preparing for that celebration. "Isn't that over a month away, still?"

"Oh, of course," Sapwood said with a nod. "But we want to make sure this celebration is as grand as possible. We wouldn't want to disappoint the Princess, after all!"

Right. Wouldn't want to hurt her Highness's precious ego by not putting enough effort into her own personal holiday, a holiday that she created just to remind everypony of how great she is. You'd think raising the sun every day was reminder enough, but no...

Banishing those thoughts, Meadow put on a smile. "Of course not. I'll be sure to be there!"

As she trotted off to home, the thought kept building. Something seemed off. She'd seen several other Summer Sun Celebrations, but there was never so much focus. Okay, so there wasn't much focus yet, just a few mentions of planning to start work early, but why so early? Even the longest preparation she had seen before had been just shy of a week.

Maybe Hoofington is just weird that way?

The thought was still bugging her when she arrived. Gray nodded to her from his chair, barely even looking up from his book, while Misty greeted her, giving a soft hug. They made their greetings and shared the usual chit-chat. How was your day? Good. How about you? The same. Etc.

This time, however, Meadow had another question. "So how come I'm hearing so much about preparations for the Summer Sun Celebration? I've already gotten asked by several ponies to help out, but it seems like it's so early for that.

"Oh, sure, it's early, but we want to make sure to make this year's celebration as perfect as can be," Misty replied. "Best to get started early, and all that."

"Well, sure," Meadow said, "But why?"

"Didn't you know? This year is special. Hoofington is hosting the Celestial Progress for this year's Summer Sun Celebration!"

"Celestial... Progress?" Meadow asked, a creeping sensation slowly rising through her limbs.

"Yes indeed," Misty replied as she slipped a foreleg around Meadow's shoulders, the once-comforting gesture suddenly feeling dangerously constraining. "Aren't you excited? You're going to meet Princess Celestia!"

Chapter 11: Correspondence

Chapter 11: Correspondence

If she sees you, then you are already dead.

Ceymi's warning echoed through Meadow's mind, as a second thought fought with it for dominance: What in the Queen's name am I still doing here?

Spark had called her brave in his last letter after she had written the heavily amended tale of her journey through the Everfree Forest. She couldn't agree with him. She might have proudly thought so at the time, but now she looked back on it as abject stupidity. At that moment, as she looked across the crowd of ponies gathered there in the town square, in the twilight of pre-dawn, she wondered if she would look back on this moment in the same way.

That is, if she were still able to look back on this moment at all.

Which brought her back to that second thought. Why am I here?

It was a question that had come up many times over the past weeks and had yet to be answered. Despite that, there she was, standing among all those eager ponies, with her doom lingering just out of sight behind a grandly decorated stage. Why did she stay? Why did she not run away, start anew? Why didn't she just fake an illness and stay huddled in Gray and Misty's home? She had so many options, but in the end, she stayed. Meadow couldn't explain why, but she stayed.

Was it really determination and bravery? She knew the danger that faced her, but she held her ground, so one could make that case. On the other hoof, everything she knew put that as a fool's hope, facing off against a pony--a creature--so vastly beyond her ability, versed with many lifetime's worth of experience and knowledge. Facing such a threat when she had an easy means to avoid it certainly sounded like stupidity.

Yet still, she stayed.

Was she so determined to retain what she had that she would risk destruction to remain here? Sure, she was building up a good life here. She had plentiful food, a comfortable life, miscellaneous jobs that were easier than any work back in the hive, and a very slowly growing expedition fund. It was nice, but she understood ponies far better than she had a short time ago. She could begin anew anywhere else and do just as well, even if it might set her back a few months. Furthermore, she could have stayed hidden in bed today, facing neither the possibility of discovery or the need to rebuild anything. She could avoid the entire issue with casual effort, and be no worse off for it. No, that wasn't it, either.

On the other side of the crowd, the Mayor of Hoofington was speaking from the podium atop the stage. Meadow did not listen to the words, only noting that they signified the oncoming doom.

Was she just giving up?

It was a terrifyingly persistent thought. It seemed to fit. It explained why she stood there, expecting things to go so wrong, but taking no action to protect herself from it. She had been gone from the hive so long, her attempt to reach it resulting in such a crushing failure. Would it be simpler to give up, even if it might be the end of everything for her? But she was terrified of dying, and even more terrified at the thought of what would happen to the hive. Even if the worst were to happen to her, she could never let herself endanger the hive. The hive was more important than she, a single drone, could ever be. She was determined to keep it safe, whatever the cost. No, if she held that much determination in her, how could she possibly be giving up?

Or was it hope?

Standing there among the crowd of eager ponies, she considered a new possibility, one she had not thought of in the days before. Maybe, just maybe, everything would be just fine. Maybe the immortal and goddess-like ruler of this land would not see the impostor hiding among and preying upon her subjects. Maybe she could stay hidden. Maybe she had nothing to fear. It seemed an almost impossible hope, but there it was. She had fooled every single pony she had come across, despite all the fears and concerns she held. The multitude of tricks and manipulations she had learned under Ceymi's tutelage had been only rarely needed. Even her first interactions, as clumsy as they had been, had been sufficient. A faint smile threatened to creep into the careful mask of neutrality as she let the little seed of optimism flourish for a moment.

The moment ended as her heart lurched, expression faltering. Her eyes widened a little, looking fearfully at the ponies beside her. Oh no, she thought, a chill running through her. Oh for the love of Queen and Hive. I'm thinking like them, like those soft, demented, blindly-optimistic ponies. I'm going to get myself killed because I'm thinking like these idiots!

The sudden urge to run was immediately quashed as the Mayor's next words registered. "...may I proudly present, Princess Celestia!"

She was trapped. She couldn't run, now. The ponies around her surely wouldn't notice, even Gray and Misty had their eyes fixed on the stage ahead, but the sight of a pony leaving the crowd would surely be unusual to the guards, not to mention the Princess she hoped to avoid. Meadow didn't want to be unusual. Unusual things drew attention.

As soon as the Princess had stepped onto the stage, Meadow noted that Celestia was very much unusual, and very much drew attention. Ceymi's mimicry of her was impeccable, yet fell so short of the real pony. Though her physical appearance and graceful mannerisms seemed no different, there was a presence to her that was beyond anything Meadow had ever seen. There was such a force of will and power behind the towering, white creature. The pony Princess looked out over the crowd, emotions pouring from her. Compassion, affection, and a surprising pride for the ponies around her. Meadow could taste each one as strongly as if they had been given directly to her, but they were not. They were the feelings the Princess held for the crowd, for all the ponies gathered there. Even shared among so many, and from such a distance, the emotions came across as strongly as she would expect from a close and personal encounter with a good friend.

Meadow tried to stifle the tremble building up in her. How much power must the Princess have to generate so much love for her subjects? What would such a being do to a creature she found preying on those subjects, on that love?

After a few moments, the Princess's eyes closed, her long horn lighting with magic. Her broad wings spread out, and she reared back, lifting herself into the air. Rising gracefully, her wings beat in firm, slow movements--and behind her, the sun surged up from the horizon.

It did not merely rise. It soared swiftly from the horizon in time with Celestia, following its master's movement. The brilliant glow of the sun silhouetted the Princess, her limbs outstretched in a triumphant gesture, and as she turned her smiling gaze back down from the sky to her subjects the crowd erupted into cheers and the stomping of hooves.

Meadow could only stare, numbed by what she had just seen.

Slowly, gracefully, the pony Princess descended back to the stage. The crowd continued to cheer her, while she smiled happily to them, her eyes passing across the crowd.

And stopping on Meadow Song.

Meadow lurched backward, eyes wide. She could feel the emotions change inside the Princess in that instant. New emotions took hold. Concern, disappointment, and... sadness.

Then her gaze moved on. It had been only an instant. If not for the sudden change in her emotions, Meadow could have believed that she had escaped notice, that the Princess hadn't hesitated for just that moment on her. Even if she had lacked that sense, she would have been certain a few seconds later; the Princess glanced back, eyes meeting for another instant, but Meadow could see her expression change. Her ears drooped the tiniest bit, the smile seeming just a tiny bit more frail.

The cheering was dying down when the Princess took a slow breath--the immortal, unimaginably powerful being taking a moment to ready herself--and spoke, her voice strong and clear. Even a little beautiful, for a pony.

"Thank you, my little ponies," the Princess said, her expression again perfectly joyful, without the faint sign of slipping that Meadow had seen for only a moment. "The Summer Sun Celebration has always been a day close to my heart, and Hoofington has certainly outdone itself with your generous welcome. But I won't keep you long. Today is not a day for long-winded speeches, but for celebration. Enjoy this day, and thank you, everypony."

Again the crowd cheered, but instead of leaving the way she had come, Princess Celestia cast another glance toward Meadow, and stepped down into the crowd.

The ponies around Celestia bowed, and she took the time to greet each one. Meadow was too far away to hear what was said, but she could see the expressions of happiness and gratitude it brought the ponies she spoke to. Slowly, the Princess began to make her way through the crowd, and Meadow could see that the Princess was heading straight toward her.

Meadow ducked her head, mentally cursing herself for her choice in forms. Sure, it was beautiful by pony standards, which helped her immensely, but a lean, tall form was unfortunately easy to pick out in a crowd. With the Princess towering over her subjects, she would have an easy time tracking down Meadow.

Fortunately, the Princess also seemed far too generous to turn her attention away from her subjects when addressing them personally, sparing only the occasional glance in Meadow's direction. With the Princess distracted so, Meadow quickly slipped away, hunkering down slightly in an attempt to hide among the crowd. While so many were staying to get the chance to speak with their Princess, enough ponies were heading out to the celebrations and parties that leaving should be perfectly inconspicuous.

At the rear of the crowd, Meadow slipped into an alleyway, hazarding a peek back into the main square. The Princess was still talking with the ponies around her, having made rather little progress. After a few moments, she looked up, searching through the crowd for just a moment. Again, her ears drooped ever so faintly, before turning to speak to a new pony.

Meadow knew she should take the opportunity to flee to safety, but she stayed, watching. Celestia passed through the crowd aimlessly now, the glances becoming less frequent with each conversation. Before long, she seemed entirely caught up in speaking with the various ponies around her, the one she had been seeking out apparently forgotten. She was thorough. Not a single pony that flocked around her went without sharing words with their Princess, who greeted each and every one with the kind of warm smile that Meadow had seen mothers giving to a beloved child.

More than an hour passed, and Meadow remained, standing back in the alley and watching. When Celestia finally moved on toward one of the celebrations held in her honor, Meadow followed.

Despite every ounce of cautious nature warning her not to, she followed. There was something about what she had seen there that was so strange that she had to see more. Her curiosity was raised. This Princess was so unusual, so unnatural, that she had to learn more. So she followed, from a distance, shadowing the giant pony as subtly as she could.

There was surprisingly little to see. The Princess greeted several more ponies along the way, each of whom bowed with respect, before arriving at a small gathering. The ponies had arranged a slightly extravagant breakfast feast for their ruler and several other guests, an open-air affair no doubt intended to be somewhat symbolic. A meal, out under the Princess's sun.

Part of Meadow wanted to be disgusted at the sycophancy. Weeks of preparations had gone into the event, all to set up a festival to heap praise on the Princess, a festival she had undoubtedly encouraged, perhaps even established. She shows up, displays her (terrifying) might, and they bow and scrape at her hooves, stoking her ego, as if afraid of what such a mighty being would do if their efforts were insufficient.

The Queen never insisted on such displays of devotion. She served the hive as the hive served her; changelings did not need some grand, egotistical celebration to remind them of their Queen's greatness. Their service for the sake of the hive was all the proof one could need.

As she watched, however, that part began to grow quieter. From such a distance, peering out from the corner of a building into the open field, she could not hear the words being exchanged, but the expressions were unmistakable. It was unsurprising that all the ponies would look happy, if nervous, in their Princess's presence, but the ones out of her sight seemed every bit as happy.

Meadow glanced over at some of the crowd passing by, many ponies casting glances at the Princess, others going about their celebrations. A couple passing by were having a hushed but enthusiastic conversation, practically gushing over how the Princess has spoken with them. A young colt was energetically hovering beside his friends, wondering if he could ever grow a horn and become "as cool" as the Princess. And of course, there was the celebration itself, hundreds of ponies throughout the town, happily celebrating an event not because the Princess was there and was expecting a show, but because they were happy.

Even without being able to hear the conversations, Meadow could still watch the interactions and expressions taking place at the breakfast. The Princess smiled pleasantly to the ponies around her, offering some gentle words to a few who seemed a bit more nervous than the others. The laughter filtered softly to Meadow over the noise of the celebrations, the nervousness fading a bit. In every interaction, the Princess seemed to display a respect for the ponies around her. She loved them... and they loved her.

Every. Single. One.

The implication hit Meadow like an anvil to the head. The celebration wasn't just some egotistical self-promotion. It wasn't some sycophantic display. These ponies, every one of them, genuinely loved her. Meadow's thoughts moved outward, considering all the other villages, towns, the gigantic cities. All those untold number of ponies, an entire kingdom that made the hive look tiny by comparison, and they all gave her their love.

No wonder she could move the sun.

Any changeling would give everything they had to take Celestia's place.

Any changeling would have to be utterly insane to try. Meadow might be inexperienced, over-eager, even a bit foolish at times, but she was not insane.

Instead, she stayed hidden at her corner, watching on with wide eyes; both from her continued fear of a being of such unimaginable power, and in awe of a being who had gained the love of an entire nation.

It was early afternoon by the time the Princess went to depart. She had visited with several other gatherings, while Meadow trailed along the whole time, watching. Eventually, she had made her way to a small clearing, where an elegant chariot awaited, flanked by a half dozen of the Royal Guard, their golden armor shining bright in the summer sun.

As she took a seat, the Princess gave some parting words, smiling to the crowd that had gathered to see her off.

Looking out across all the ponies cheering her, her eyes again came across Meadow. This time, the Princess made no attempt to hide the recognition. Her gaze halted, focused on the disguised changeling. As Meadow flinched back, the Princess's emotions again changed to sadness, the kind smile fading a touch.

It was such a strange reaction, but not a hostile one. The Princess made no move, said nothing, she simply looked to her with those feelings of compassion and sadness. Recovering slightly, Meadow slowly steadied herself. She cautiously rose to stand more squarely, head held high; she didn't want to seem unusual, the only pony uneasy in their Princess's gaze.

Celestia's smile grew again.

Then the chariot rolled forward and lifted into the sky, bearing the Princess away to the beating wings of her Guard.

With a deep shudder, Meadow sat down, hard. She could hear her heart beating clearly in her ears, a faint taste of bile rising in her throat. She had stared straight into the eyes of an impossibly-powerful being, one who could be called a goddess without even a hint of hyperbole, and she had emerged unscathed. Celestia hadn't seen her. She hadn't seen Nictis. She had seen only one of her subjects, terrified of their Princess, and she had been saddened by it. More importantly, she had seen only what Meadow had wanted her to see, had allowed her to see: a simple unicorn mare and loyal citizen of Equestria.

...Ceymi was wrong.

Dear Spark Wheel,

Thank you for the flattery, but I don't think I'm really brave. A bit too impetuous for my own good, perhaps. Then again, I suppose that's what bravery is half the time. I remember hearing an expression from somepony, about the difference between bravery and stupidity being luck. That might have been heroism instead of bravery, but I guess it works out about the same. I was more lucky than anything else. I do hope to return again, someday, but with more planning and preparation. I'd like to not put my life in the hooves of chance. I've done enough of that already.

Anyway, I've written so much about what little I've done, but I haven't heard anything about you. How are things in Manechester? I hope it's going well.

I suppose I do have one more story, though. We held the Summer Sun Celebration yesterday. The Princess was there. I know it might sound odd coming from a pony that's gone wandering through the Everfree Forest, but it was a strange experience. I'd never seen anything like it, not even close. I'm still not sure what to think of it. This is the fifth time I've tried to write this, and I'm still not able to put it to words.

I hope to hear from you again, soon.

Your friend,

Meadow Song.

Trying to will oneself to not think on a subject had the annoying and near-absolute tendency to instead bring that subject to the fore of one's thoughts. Because of this, Meadow resorted to distraction to stave off further thinking on the subject of almighty pony princesses. This particular day, she was occupying her thoughts instead with what she thought of as an extremely ironic activity.

Changeling hunting.

As she sat at a park bench, sipping on a hay smoothie--not as good as a raspberry one, but the taste had grown on her--she considered the situation. The most important fact was that there were other changelings in Hoofington. There had to be. It was one of the closest settlements to the hive, settlements that were safe enough for young, prospective Infiltrators to be tested in. It made perfect sense that there would be other changelings here. Other Infiltrators, ones who would know the exact route back to the hive. Ones who would be able to help her, to see her home. All she had to do was find one, and all her troubles would be over.

That was, of course, the problem. She had to find them. They wouldn't know that she was a changeling, nor would she be able to tell just by looking at them. Sure, she could go around town "flashing" her eyes at everypony she met, but that could end disastrously. The only pony who had seen her do that had found it creepy, and being seen as unusual could be very bad for her. It was still tempting, of course. She could even use a different form so that it was some "stranger" that everypony found creepy, but it would still stand out. Worse, while it told of her true nature to any other changelings, it could also give hints of it to ponies. If somepony started to suspect something was up, she might be exposed, and that would be disastrous.

A little voice in the back of her head pointed out that just because it made perfect sense and was likely true that there were other changelings there in Hoofington, that didn't mean there absolutely were. She filed that thought right along godly pony princesses in the "things I'm not going to think about" part of her brain.

No, she decided that she had to do it more subtly. While a pony might not know what to look for, she knew things that these ponies would not. There were signs. A changeling would be someone positioned to gain love, preferably with a lover or a significant number of friends, yet one who would have absences to bring that gathered love back to the hive. They wouldn't have the same emotional response as a pony would; they were predators looking for food, not for friends like these ponies were. The ponies wouldn't be able to tell the difference in emotions, but she could.

Unfortunately, she hardly knew any of these ponies. Despite the months there, she had met only a small portion of Hoofington in any more depth than a friendly greeting. There were simply so many of them.

As she took another sip, she looked over a couple sitting out in the grass near a small pond. A stallion and a mare, ponies Meadow didn't know, though she thought she remembered hearing the Mare's name as Silverleaf. They were cuddling, soft chuckles and giggles rising from them as they talked quietly. Either of them could be a changeling. Meadow didn't know them, just a couple ponies in the background of her life. She didn't know anything about them. Maybe when she and everypony here wasn't watching, one of them would slip away for a few days, only to return, their disappearance missed by all the other ponies going about their lives.

If she was going to find out which--if any--of them were changelings, it meant painstakingly making her way through the entire population of Hoofington.

Needless to say, it made Spark Wheel's reply letter the high-point of her week. Changeling hunting sucked.

Dear Meadow Song,

You're so lucky! I've never seen Princess Celestia myself, but I've always heard that the celebration is awe-inspiring. Was it as impressive as they said? Did you get to speak to her? I'm kind of jealous. Maybe I can make the trip to Canterlot next summer, to see it myself. I'm earning enough that I should be able to afford it easily.

Speaking of, I've got a job. It's the greatest thing ever! Dad runs a machine shop for building airships, and I'm helping out there. He took me there the day after I arrived, and it was amazing. I've never seen so many tools and machines. We spent all day there because I wanted to play with everything, and I kept coming back to help out. I even got my cutie mark when I finished my first project! A pair of gears. I'm not surprised that it'd be something mechanical, but I'm so happy to finally have it!

I haven't had anything as adventurous as your expedition, but Manechester has been a lot of fun. Riding an airship was great. It was a bit scary, though I knew mom could catch me if I did fall out (Don't think I mentioned, she's a pegasus. Dad's an earth pony). Since he makes the things, dad made one just for them. It's small, not like the big yachts he makes for the rich ponies, but I kind of like that. It's more nimble, and everything looks so small from way up there. It must be cool to be a pegasus, to be able to fly like that any time they want.

There is one teeny tiny bad thing, unfortunately. Bigs is here. Worse, it's almost like I owe him for being here or something. Seems the couple that adopted him are friends with my new parents, and they had been so happy with their adoption that it convinced my parents to adopt. I guess I'm glad it happened, but I feel a little uncomfortable thinking that I might owe that jerk anything. And he is still a jerk, so that makes it easier to not feel indebted. He's also following his new parents by getting into city council work. He still doesn't seem to like me, though. At least he doesn't have any real power, and he has to play nice because our parents are friends. He's still annoying.

Oh yeah, and my mom is an awesome cook. I'll try to get her to cook up some extra cookies to send with the next letter!

Your friend,

Spark Wheel

Meadow was quite happy to exchange an evening of fruitless investigation about town to kick back on the couch to write her reply.

Dear Spark Wheel,

‘Impressive’ seems like a good word to describe the Princess at work, yes. I'm afraid I didn't get to speak to her, however. To tell the truth, it was a little scary. Seeing that much power displayed was somewhat intimidating. Actually, the whole thing gave me a lot to think about. I know now that it was a little foolish to be quite so uneasy. She did seem nice, even if the amount of power she wields is a bit frightening. I was reluctant to go at first, but I guess I'm glad that I did.

Congratulations on your cutie mark! I knew it'd have to be something with gears. I may not have much experience with such a field myself, but it was obvious that you had talent, and one that I haven't seen in any other pony I've met. I'm glad you found a job you enjoy so much.

I've just been doing miscellaneous jobs around town, helping ponies out. Some things never change, I guess. I'm slowly saving up for another, proper expedition. I want to get back out there, but it's slow going. Still, it is something to work towards, and at least things are going well here.

Your friend,

Meadow Song

P.S. If Bigs is giving you any trouble, tell him I said hello. I think he'll remember me.

"...and then, let's see, Dandelion brought her this amazing bouquet of exotic flowers he picked up in Manehattan from some zebra trader and proposed to her on the spot in front of everypony. It was such a sweet moment!"

Meadow Song tried not to stare at the rambling pony, who was currently holding the handle of a large bell in her mouth. She still couldn't figure out how the navy-blue mare was able to speak while holding something in her mouth, yet have her words come out perfectly clearly. Must be an earth-pony thing.

Then again, she supposed she shouldn't be too surprised that this pony showed skill at talking. Stargazer showed an amazing proclivity for it, and would ramble on about all manner of topics any time Meadow came around to help. The hardest thing was getting her to stop. Getting her to stay on-topic was almost as hard.

They continued on, the straw crunching underhoof as they walked along the length of the large barn. "She said yes, of course. Everypony was so happy for them. It had been obvious for years that the two of them would get together, but--oh, there's another one!"

Stargazer shook her head, her bell emitting a dull ring with each shake, and a faint growl sounded in reply from a nearby hay pile. Meadow brought around the large pan and spoon she was levitating and clanged them together. The noise was too much, drawing a near-anguished howl from the pile before a young timberwolf burst out, scampering away toward the border of the forest.

They stopped their ringing, watching the young creature run off. "Every year. End of summer comes, and a whole pack of them little ones come and hide in my barn. You'd think they'd pick somewhere else one of these years, but it's always mine. They must like the wood it's made of." With a sigh, she resumed her walking, Meadow following along. This was probably the strangest job she'd had since her arrival. With how ridiculous ponies could get at times, that was saying something.

"...Let's see, where was I?"

"Something about 'obvious for years,'" Meadow prompted, barely able to keep up the appearance of interest.

"Oh, right! Yeah, everypony knew they'd get together, but it was so nice to see them finally decide it themselves. Even Spring Song was happy for them, even though she'd always been pining after Dandelion since they shared a date however many years ago. Turned out well for her, though. She ended up falling for a musician named Songbreeze. Ever hear of her? I hear she's held concerts all over Equestria now, and lucky Spring Song gets to go along to most of them. Oh, here we go again."

More ringing and clanging, and a young timberwolf leaped out of its hiding place behind a stack of barrels, chasing off after the others they had rousted out. Meadow had thought the description of how effective the ringing was on timberwolves was just another of Stargazer's bizarre tales--like the tale of how another town changed the seasons just by running through a forest--but it certainly seemed to work.

"Hey, wait a minute," Stargazer said, looking back to Meadow with a sudden surge of excitement. "Spring Song. You don't suppose you two are related, are you?"

Meadow blinked. "No," she said automatically, before realizing that reply was possibly a little too quick. "I mean, I really doubt it. I know my family isn't from around here."

Stargazer gave a comforting smile, a hint of sympathy rising from her. No doubt she was worried that she might have hit a sore subject. "Ah well. So let's see, after that was Honeydew. Now that was quite an affair..."

Meadow found these discussions increasingly hard to pay attention to, despite how informative they were. The biggest problem was that the information didn't help her. Oh, she found ponies who fit what she was looking for, enough love to draw on with periodic absences that could be traveling back to the hive. The problem was, she found so many. With the train station and all the nearby towns, travel was fairly common, and it seemed like half the town could be changelings without raising any suspicion.

And of course, even if they were, it would still be hard to discover who they were.

It was enough to almost make Meadow wish that Infiltrator training wasn't quite so thorough. Changeling hunting really sucked.

Dear Meadow Song,

Wow. Bigs sure remembers you. When I mentioned you, he seemed surprised, then angry. I don't know what you said to him before, but I think we've found somepony he likes even less than me. I've never seen him get that angry, but then he just stomped off after giving me a glare.

So you're planning a new expedition? See, that's why I say you're brave, you're already planning on going out there again. I don't know if I could do something like that. I doubt many ponies could. I hope you have luck. Why is it "slow going?"

Hope you like the package!

Your friend,

Spark Wheel

Gray and Misty seemed quietly amused at the sight of Meadow kicked back on the couch, happily munching on a big chocolate-chip cookie--she had, of course, shared a couple of them to be polite--while reading the letter. Normally, Meadow would feel a little self-conscious about acting a little bit silly and... well, to be honest, a little pony-like. But she couldn't quite bring herself to care at the moment. Spark was right, his adoptive mom was quite a cook, and those cookies were delicious.

Dear Spark Wheel,

Thank you for the cookies! They were awesome. I think that's the first time I've ever written that word, possibly the first time I've ever used it, but I couldn't think of a more fitting word. Please thank your mom for me.

The little expedition I'm working on is simple enough to plan for, enough that I'm mainly just going over the same subjects repeatedly to make sure everything is as good as it's going to get. The only obstacle is money. Hiring other ponies is expensive, as is getting the food and supplies I'll need for them. As nice and easy as the random jobs are that I get, it doesn't pay well. I've been looking around to try to find a real job, but I haven't had any luck, yet. I almost got a job as a trash hauler, but another pony got the job. Considering he could pull twice as much as me, even with my magic, I guess they made the right choice, but it's still disappointing. I'm sure something will turn up, though, and several of the ponies I've helped have promised to keep their eyes out for something I could do. Don't suppose you know of any good jobs over there?

As for Bigs, maybe I should come pay a visit. If he reacted like that to hearing me mentioned, I think it'd be hilarious to see his reaction to seeing me face-to-face.

Your friend,

Meadow Song

It was nice to be able to just relax in the evening.

Her exercise regimen had gone well, her wings once again strong and capable. Her expedition journal was full of notes and planning, most of which had been gone over multiple times, and she rarely found anything new to add to it. She'd even given up on finding other changelings, after about a hundred different leads all turned up fruitless.

Instead, she spent many of the evenings kicked back on the couch, which seemed to have been ceded to her, reading a book. It was an interesting curiosity. Fiction was such a strange thing to her. There had been a few little myths and tales back in the hive, but those had all either been to explain something in the case of the former, or telling of interesting past events for the latter, with both often serving to deliver morals as well. In a way, they were much like the rest of life in the hive: practical. They served a purpose. Pony stories, however, were not like that. Many of the stories were completely made up, and while a few carried moral messages--strangely, a significant number of those were aimed purely at younger ponies--many did not. As with many things pony-related, they carried no practical purpose, serving only as a luxury item, as entertainment.

So when Meadow lay there, reading a completely fictional tale of a pair of lost former-Guard members working their way through a surprisingly hostile jungle in search of some ancient treasure, she couldn't help but feel a little guilty that she actually enjoyed it.

When she finished that book, she dug out another from Gray's collection and started on it.

She was quick to put the books aside any time she got a letter, naturally. Meadow had made a habit of checking the mail each morning after breakfast, handing Gray his newspaper before passing out any letters. Gray and Misty smiled each time one of Meadow's friends wrote back, but she couldn't help that they smiled a little bit more when she got another letter from Spark. She supposed it made sense, she smiled a little more to see it, too. Of course, they couldn't have guessed why she had that reaction, likely just seeing it as a sign of a good friendship. That suited Meadow just fine.

Dear Meadow Song,

A visit would be great! I'd love to see you again, it's been too long, and letters only go so far. I've even got room for you to stay! I'm moving into the apartment next to my parents in a few weeks, it's like getting my own room and more (The advantages of having a mom who runs the complex!). I won't be on my own, not really, but it's kind of close. It's a little scary, but exciting at the same time.

I suppose it sounds a little wussy to describe moving into an apartment next to my parents as "scary" to somepony who's repeatedly wandered about the Everfree Forest, but I guess we all have to start somewhere?

If you're looking for work, there's a lot of people hiring out here. Even dad's considering hiring a few more ponies for the shop. If you're really interested, you could even stay with me while you get settled. After all the times you've helped me, I'd be happy to return the favor.

Plus, it'd be great to see you again.

Your friend,

Spark Wheel

Meadow read over the letter again, and then a third time. He was inviting her over, even offering the prospect of a job. A real job, one that could help her fund the expedition in months instead of years, and the company of a pony that held such wonderful affection for her. Of all the memories of the orphanage, that one was the best; the taste of that affection was somehow just a bit sweeter, a bit more energizing than any she had tasted from any other pony.

She could have that again.

She could have everything that she wanted. The best food. A solid income. Before long, a fully-funded escort on her journey home. And finally, if everything went right, if she were allowed to become a true Infiltrator after the generous bounty of food she would bring home, then she would have a perfect position to return to.

With an eager grin, she grabbed up a quill to write her reply.

Chapter 12: Another Life

Chapter 12: Another Life

Vibrations ran up from the tracks and through the train, only to be tuned out as Meadow Song thought. A smile graced her face, her eyes looking out the windows as the land rolled by. A short, three-hour train ride and everything would change.

The last couple of months had been busy, with many more letters exchanged; a couple to establish that yes, she was invited to move in with him, many more working out the details of how and when. She had spent many days preparing, despite having no more than what would fit in her saddlebags and a single suitcase. Nevertheless, she had packed and repacked, double-checking her belongings. Then she would sit around for a little bit, trying to read another of Gray's books, before giving up and double-checking everything again.

She felt slightly embarrassed when she realized the amount of amusement the situation was giving Misty and Gray, but it was an odd, charmed amusement. For some reason, they were happy for her. They were happy to see her happy.

It was strange, but it seemed a very "pony" kind of reaction.

She didn't mind. In a way, it even made her happy. Even as she left them alone, they were happy for her. There were some tears and sadness, too. They would miss her, but she was important enough to them for them to care about her happiness more than their own. She had done well. And now, she was going from what was already a good situation, to an even better one. Everything she could want was coming to her, and the only thing between her and perfection was a little three-hour train ride.

Three hours had never taken so long as they did that day.

The town of Manechester slowly drew closer, the sparse outskirts and surrounding farms passing by the train. Soon, larger buildings began to whip past the windows. By the time the train was pulling into the station, Meadow was already on her hooves, snatching up her bags. She quickly weaved her way between several ponies who had not been quite so fast as her, making her way to the exit.

With one final lurch, the train ground to a halt, and the passengers began to leave the train. Moments later, Meadow stepped out onto the platform, already packed with ponies ready to board the train for the next leg of its journey. At least she was near the leading edge of ponies leaving the train, a flood of bodies quickly filling the platform behind her. Again, she quickly slipped her way through the crowd. Being lean had certain advantages.

She was just exiting the platform when she heard her name.

"Meadow!"

Just ahead stood Spark Wheel.

Looking at him, it was hard to believe that hardly a year had passed. He was still the same charcoal-colored pony he had always been, yet he looked so much better. He had grown more since she had last seen him, and though he was still on the skinny side, he carried himself strongly, confidently. He wasn't particularly finely-groomed, but his coat had a pleasant sleekness to it, and his fiery mane, while still as wild as ever, was longer and more vibrant. But the detail that struck Meadow the most was his eyes. His golden eyes looked brighter and more full of life than she remembered them.

It reminded her of when they first met, that eager and energetic colt playing around with little gears and bolts, at least when he could be distracted from his shyness. Back before she had made him so dependent on her company.

With how much joy and affection was pouring off him, she couldn't help but prefer this version.

Spark's expression was halfway between awe and joy as he looked at her, likely taking in the slight changes she had made when leaving the orphanage. A moment later, joy won out, and he leaped forward to grip her in a tight hug. "Meadow! Oh wow, it's so good to see you!"

Meadow laughed softly as she returned the hug, savoring the taste of his affection. It was so sharp and clean, a taste she could only describe as "sweet." She had to keep herself from feeding too much. No sense in draining him excessively, after all. "It's good to see you too, Sparks. You've grown!"

"So have you," Spark replied enthusiastically, drawing back enough to speak face to face. "You look amazing!" His ears suddenly drooped a bit, a funny sense of embarrassment rising from him. "I mean, you look good."

Meadow gave another soft laugh. "So do you, Sparks."

He smiled a little awkwardly, still quite happy despite the slightly-faded embarrassment. Abruptly his expression changed to a big grin, the momentary awkwardness forgotten. "Oh yeah!" He pulled back suddenly, turning to thrust his flank forward. On it was the image of a pair of simple, steel-gray gears, one slightly smaller than the other. Such a simple, silly little thing to bring the young stallion such joy.

Spark let out a happy, wordless sound, beaming proudly. A thought visibly crossed his expression. "Oh, let me see!" he said, and quickly stepped to her side before she could reply, looking to her flank. "That's so cool!"

Meadow couldn't help but snicker a little at the thought that they were circling and checking each others' flanks like some kind of animal, but was swiftly pulled from the thought as Spark practically tackled her with another hug and a laugh.

"C'mon," he said when he finally released the hug. "Let's get over to my place so we can get you all settled in. Oh! My parents are looking forward to meeting you. I might have talked about you a bit much lately. But hey, mom's cooking dinner for us tonight!"

"If it's anything like her cookies," Meadow said as they began to walk, "then I imagine dinner is going to be wonderful."

"You have no idea!" Spark laughed. "And maybe tomorrow I can show you the shop so you can see what I get to work with. And my little 'special project,' too! And... well, there's a lot of stuff to do!"

"I can tell," Meadow replied, smirking as she watched Spark trotting along beside her. He was nearly bouncing with excitement.

The walk was short, filled with a rambling conversation that mostly just recapped the stories they had told over letters. Manechester was much larger than Hoofington, but nowhere near the size of Manehattan, resulting in a city that was more spread out and open than that metropolis. As pony cities went, it was fairly pleasant, even if their choice in architecture was aesthetically lacking. Still, it allowed them a fairly nice walk along a park-lined road, soon arriving at Spark's apartment.

The complex was a fairly good-sized place, two stories, forming a large U around a central courtyard. Sparks hopped up the stairs two at a time before leading her to a door. "Well, here it is. It's not much, but it's all ours!"

He opened the door, allowing her to enter first. The main room had a couch and chair, both old but in good condition, around a rather cheap-looking coffee table. The kitchen was decently sized, as was the bathroom. The two doors in the back led into a pair of rooms; one held a bed, while the other, unfurnished room contained several boxes that looked to hold tools and parts. Meadow smirked a little when she saw that last room. His collecting habits certainly hadn't changed.

"It's nice," Meadow said, slipping her saddlebags off and setting them next to the wall, out of the way. "A lot better than the dinky little apartment I had in Manehattan."

"And here I always thought these apartments were a little small. It wasn't that bad, was it?"

Meadow chuckled. "Well, you've at least got a kitchen with enough room to make more than a sandwich, and a bathroom that doesn't look like a converted closet. Oh, and your bedroom isn't also your living room." She smiled at him. "Yeah, this is a nice improvement."

"I'm glad you like it," he said, then motioned a hoof back to the door. "Should we go next door, then? Mom and dad were kind of insisting I bring you over as soon as we got here."

She nodded. "Of course. I'd be delighted to meet them."

One very short walk later, they arrived at the door of the neighboring apartment. Spark paused to clop a hoof against the door a couple of times, then immediately opened it. "Hey, we're here!" he called out eagerly as they entered.

The apartment was the same size and layout as Spark's, but much more full. A larger couch and several chairs dominated the living room, with several pictures, wall-hangings, and even a small model airship decorating the space. The place had a much more lived-in feel, complete with the scattered clutter that had yet to accumulate in Spark's new apartment. The smell of cooking food hit her senses a moment later, a savory scent of cooking vegetables and spices that was already making Meadow's stomach demand something to eat.

A pair of ponies called out greetings from the kitchen. One, an earth pony stallion with a yellow coat, a short, blue-gray mane, and eyes the color of emeralds, walked over to greet them. A stylized sun was emblazoned on his flanks, surrounded by a nimbus of white. "Hey, Sparks. And you must be Meadow Song?" He held out a hoof in greeting, smiling warmly.

"A pleasure to meet you," she replied, shaking his hoof.

"So I'm Sunseeker," the stallion replied, then gestured behind him. "And this pretty mare is Willow Leaf."

The mare in question, a pegasus, had a green coat and a golden-blond, spiky mane and tail. The cutie mark, a few odd, puffy lines, confused Meadow for a moment until she realized it represented a gust of wind. On hearing herself mentioned, Willow looked up from the pot she was stirring, her vivid purple eyes shining as she greeted them. "You've got good timing, just a couple more minutes and dinner will be ready. Just have to finish the sauce and we can eat."

"Have a seat," Sunseeker said, gesturing to the nearby chairs before stepping back into the kitchen to help.

Meadow sat, nodding to Spark as he sat next to her. "They seem nice."

"Oh, they're great," he replied. "I couldn't have asked for a better family."

She smiled. "Good. I'm glad you ended up somewhere nice."

Dinner came soon and was eaten almost as swiftly. As nice as Misty and Gray's cooking had been, it simply couldn't compare to the meal that Meadow found before her. It was almost deceptively simple; seasoned hay, pan-fried vegetables, and a thick sauce over it all. Meadow had expected the sauce to be sweet but was surprised by the rich, pleasantly-spiced taste. Conversation was slow to start as everypony focused on their food.

"So Sparks has told us quite a bit about you," Sunseeker said, then gestured a hoof toward her cutie mark. "You two roomed together at the orphanage?"

"For almost four years, yes. He moved into my room right after Nightmare Night, and we shared it the rest of our time there. I liked having the company."

Spark looked up from his food. "Me too. I probably wouldn't have ever made any friends if not for you."

"What about Cotton?" Meadow asked. "She was friendly to everypony. I'm sure you would have done well."

"Eh," Spark grunted. "She was friendly, but it's not the same as being a friend, you know? Sure, we became friends eventually, but I have you to thank for that."

Meadow just smiled.

"You certainly made an impression," Willow said. "He's told us more stories about you than any other pony at the orphanage."

Sunseeker chuckled. "Than all the other ponies at the orphanage, I think. He could hardly stop talking about you these last couple days."

Spark was blushing, ears folded back as he tried to cover up the embarrassment by digging into his food. Meadow was torn between finding it amusingly cute or sickeningly weak, but a moment later she found herself feigning a touch of embarrassment herself, speaking before she realized the words were coming. "I might have been a little excited about this, too."

She caught the quick glance from Spark, with the hint of a thankful smile and the feeling of appreciation. Willow and Sunseeker seemed to find their reactions amusing, as well. Meadow just felt satisfaction at seeing him happy. The happier he was, the better things would be for her.

The momentary silence was soon lifted by Sunseeker. "So, I understand you ran away from the orphanage right after Sparks left. Can I ask why?"

Meadow clearly noticed the subtle touch of doubt and concern coming from him. It wasn't hard to draw a conclusion from that. They had adopted Spark, and ponies put so much weight on friendship and family. Of course, they would feel protective of him. Her running away could easily make her look unreliable.

She stared at her plate for several long seconds. Sunseeker was just about to say something else when she finally spoke.

"I wasn't going to be adopted."

Sunseeker blinked, clearly surprised by that answer.

She continued. "Truth is, I didn't want to be adopted. My mother may be gone, but I have more family out there, even if they're far away. The orphanage couldn't find them, and I couldn't find them by staying there. I had to do it myself, and that meant I had to leave."

Her ears drooped a bit. "The worst thing is, I knew that from the first day I was there. I had always felt that I was just going to be there long enough for me to grow up, to grow strong enough to go out and find them. So I studied, and I exercised, did everything I thought I could to prepare myself. At the same time, I made several friends, and Sparks was the best of all of them. I stayed because of him. When he finally left, I didn't have anything to keep me there."

She gave a little sigh for effect, then a faint smile, and delivered the final touch. "I got my cutie mark when I was finally decided, as I was getting ready to go. I knew then that I was doing the right thing."

Everypony in the room was smiling quietly at her. Sunseeker and Willow were particularly touched, judging by the feelings coming from them. Success.

Willow spoke first. "Did you ever find them?"

"No," Meadow replied with a shake of her head. "Not yet. But I know where to start, once I'm ready."

"Would that be the adventure Sparks mentioned you saving up for?" Sunseeker asked with a smile on his face and a strangely pleasant, almost longing sensation. Nostalgia for some fond memory, perhaps?

"Something like that."

He nodded. "It's always good to have something to work toward, something to look for. I hope you find it, someday."

She considered that a moment. With the feelings coming from him, she had the sense that the comment meant more than just what the words said. She hazarded a question. "How about you? Is there something you're looking for?"

"I found it," he replied, grinning happily as he reached out to wrap a foreleg around Willow Leaf's shoulder. She grinned as well as they leaned into each other a moment.

Meadow smiled. Ugh, gag.

"Gag," Spark said, much to Meadow's amused satisfaction. Sunseeker replied by sticking out his tongue, which earned a laugh from both Spark and Willow that he quickly joined in on.

When the laughter receded, Sunseeker looked back to Meadow. "I know it doesn't compare to trying to find your family, but I know what it can feel like to long after something that seems so distant. It may sound sappy and all, but I firmly believe that if you never give up, everypony can find what they're looking for. Even if they don't know what that is."

It did sound sappy, and very much like the kind of overly optimistic nonsense that ponies seemed to put so much stock in. Still, the last comment caught her curiosity. "Did you know what you were looking for?"

Sunseeker stopped, turning to give Willow a thoughtful look. A moment later the smile returned as he replied. "Yes and no." To Meadow's questioning look, he added, "It's a long story. And actually, it all started with my cutie mark."

Seeing that he had an audience, he sat back, food momentarily forgotten. "Okay, so it all started many years ago, back when I was still just a colt. There was a period where I was, well... kind of depressed and convinced nothing could go my way. One day was particularly bad. I'd been teased a lot in class that day, and I was feeling desperate for something, anything to make the day better.

"Most days, when things were hard, I'd look up to the sky. With a name like Sunseeker, I guess I always figured I should have some sort of connection with the sun. I'd look up to it when things were feeling down, and I'd imagine Celestia herself was looking down at me. It comforted me a bit on the worst days, to think that I wasn't alone. That so long as the sun and Princess Celestia were there, things couldn't be too bad. But that day, when I felt like I needed her the most, it was scheduled for rain. The entire sky was overcast.

"There's a hill not too far from here, that overlooked the neighborhood I grew up in, and there's this big, narrow tower on top of it. It's some extra-large lightning rod, something to do with experiments into drawing power from storms. Normally I didn't pay it much mind. That day, I was staring up at the sky, hoping to find any little break in the clouds, the tiniest glimpse of the sun, and that's when I noticed that the tower cut right up through the clouds.

"I guess I was feeling desperate, so I went up that hill to the tower. It's just this open criss-cross of girders around a giant metal rod, sticking up into the sky, right out of sight. It was even starting to drizzle, so the whole thing was wet and slick. It was a completely stupid idea, but I just knew I had to do it, so I started climbing. I was still small, so it was hard going, but I climbed higher and higher, trying to ignore how far up I was, or how slippery my hooves were every time I grabbed the next girder. If I would have so much as slipped, I wouldn't be here now.

"And then I broke through the top of the clouds. I went from the gray, rainy world below into a brilliant sky, full of color, with a sea of white clouds stretching to the horizon. It was glorious. Just the clouds, the sky, and the sun beaming down on me, full of warmth. It was like I was alone with it, as if Celestia had beckoned me there, just to share a moment between the two of us. I was so... enraptured by it that I almost didn't notice that I got my cutie mark at that moment. I'd never been so happy before then." He grinned, eyes distant for a moment.

"Of course, I was grounded for a month afterward for doing something so dangerously stupid. I didn't even care, I was just so happy. Everything felt a little bit better, no matter how dark and dreary the day might be. There was only one thing that really bugged me. I had no idea what my cutie mark meant.

"So the years go by, life goes on. As happy as I am, I always felt like I was lost. I had no idea where I was going in life, and at that point, I didn't care too much. I was fairly happy. It wasn't wonderful, but it was good enough that I was content with what I had. Content enough that, for a while, I just kind of... forgot. I forgot what I was looking for, I forgot to even keep looking. I was content to just accept 'good enough,' instead of trying to find what I really wanted."

Meadow's ear twitched.

"Well, I still had the habit of looking up to the sky, particularly when I thought. One day, I noticed this pretty pegasus flying around the sky. I'm not sure why it caught my eye that day, but it did. She was just doing these graceful loops and rolls, flying about the sky as if she didn't have a single worry in the world. It fascinated me, and I must have watched for almost an hour before she flew out of sight.

"The next day, I saw her again. Then the day after that. Some days it was just a short little flight across town, on others, she'd do an hour or two of aerobatics. Before long, whenever I would look up to the sky, it was for the hope of seeing her flying around. Even when she wasn't there, I'd picture her in my head. I was fascinated.

"I met her a few times on the ground. Just passing meetings. I was too shy--and maybe a little awe-struck--to give more than a passing, friendly greeting. And I was so quiet that she never really noticed me."

"Had my head in the clouds and all that," Willow quietly added.

Sunseeker smiled and nodded. "Yeah. Then, one day, I had an idea. Again, it was something I just felt drawn to, something I knew I had to do. So I went to work. I studied, I planned, I built, and all the time I would look up to see this pegasus flying around, so happy and free.

"Then finally came this one spring day. She was up flying among the clouds. That's the day I launched my first airship. It was a tiny thing, not like the monstrous yachts some ponies buy. No, it was just big enough for a couple ponies, but that didn't matter. It just had to fly. And it did. It went up, and I joined her, and we flew together for the first time. Before long, we ended up above the clouds. It was like we had the entire sky to ourselves. It was just the clouds, the sun, the dinky little airship I had built, and this pretty green pegasus mare flying around me."

He reached around Willow's shoulders to give a loving squeeze, his muzzle moving to rest along hers. "And it was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen."

Meadow pointedly ignored the gagging mental voice in the back of her mind and just smiled.

Spark groaned slightly as he flopped across one of the chairs in his apartment. "Oof. I can't believe how sore my legs are."

"I can," Meadow said as she sank down onto the other chair, suppressing her own groan. "You've been bouncing all day. I don't think you even sat still at dinner."

"I might be just a little excited," he admitted with a faint, embarrassed grin.

"Yeah." Meadow laid her head back against the chair, smiling softly. "Me too."

They sat silently for a moment, the first truly quiet time she had since leaving the train. She could sympathize with Spark; for some reason, she was feeling a little worn out, herself. Only a little, though. The wonderful dinner had helped with that, as well as Spark's affection for her. The only thing that could be better was if she could have absorbed some of the love that must have surely been flowing during Sunseeker's story.

"They're nice," she said. "Your parents, I mean. I like them."

"Me too," Spark said. "I mean... I miss my parents. My real parents. I barely even remember them. But... I love Sunseeker and Willow. They are my family now, you know?"

Meadow nodded, answering with a quiet, somber, "I know."

She didn't notice that she had frowned when the topic of family had come up. Nor did she notice that Spark had gotten up until his forelegs wrapped around her in a hug, the flow of sympathy suddenly registering to her senses. "Don't worry, Meadow. I'm sure you'll find your family someday."

Meadow tensed. Her first urge was to feel anger. She didn't need his assurance. She didn't need comforting just because the topic of "family" had come up. She wanted to push him away, to make it clear that she was perfectly capable of handling the issue herself. That the only sympathy she needed was food.

Yet as he held her in his forelegs, she slowly relaxed. The anger was just a small flicker, gone as quick as it came. Instead, she raised a hoof, pressing lightly at his chest. "I know," she said as he stepped back, and without even thinking of it, she gave a faint smile.

Spark's emotions were far more complex than she remembered. Happiness overlay sympathy, concern, and a bit of sadness, with a hint of disappointment that had shown up a few seconds earlier, almost too faint to notice. He smiled, though, and nodded.

"Well... I suppose I should show you to the bedroom. I think I'm going to turn in early. I guess a whole day of being all excited is a bit more tiring than I expected."

"Sleep sounds good to me," Meadow said as she stood, stretched, and then happily trotted over to her bags. But why am I so tired?

"I kinda thought so," Spark said with a chuckle. "Anyway, the bedroom is the one on the left, and it's all yours. I'll take the couch."

Meadow stopped, frowning slightly. "Wait, I'm sleeping in your bed?"

"Well, yeah," he said. "I've only got one bed, and you're my guest, so you get it. I'll be fine."

"Oh," Meadow said, thinking on that. That does seem like a perfectly pony sort of thing, making a guest comfortable even at his own expense. On the other hoof, wouldn't it also be rude to take a pony's bed when they're already doing so much to help me? "You don't have to do that, Spark. I'm used to sleeping in far worse conditions. Dirt, rocks, bare concrete. A couch will be perfect by comparison."

He smiled, waving a hoof. "Yeah, I'm sure, but you're still getting the bed. I'm not making you sleep on the couch."

You're not making me do anything. Ugh. This is why changelings just sleep on the ground. Beds cause too much trouble. "Well then," she said, pacing slowly to the couch with a grim, determined look on her face. "There is only one solution to this problem."

Spark blinked, a bit confused and surprised by her reaction. "Um... what?"

Meadow simply flopped down onto the couch, looking back to him with a smug expression. "I was here first. You'll have to make do with the bed." When he opened his mouth to reply, she stuck out her tongue, and whatever he was going to say was cut off by his half-snorted laugh.

Recovering slightly, he rolled his eyes and sighed loudly in mock frustration despite the clear amusement she could sense in him. "Oh, fine, I suppose I'll manage."

"I'm sure you will," Meadow replied primly, as if she were a queen on her throne. Actually, this might be more comfortable than the Queen's throne. That's... kind of a disturbing thought.

Her thoughts were cut off as a bundle of blankets landed atop her, accompanied by Spark's chuckles. She pushed them down, arranging them atop herself.

Spark stood there for a moment, a happy smile on his face, before speaking again. "Well... sweet dreams, Meadow."

She returned the smile. "You too, Sparks."

Once he had left, she shifted about, getting comfy on the couch. It wasn't nearly as nice as the bed she had been using before, but it would suffice. Still, it's too bad ponies have this weird thing about personal space. I saw that bed. It could sleep at least a half-dozen changelings at a time, and still be the height of luxury.

Then again, this couch would be the height of luxury too, she thought. So I guess I really can't complain.

When morning came, Meadow was more convinced than ever that living in Manechester was going to be great.

She woke up first, unsurprisingly. Even though she had gotten used to the relaxed pace ponies live at, she still didn't sleep as long as they did. She compensated by laying there contently under the nice warm blankets for another half-hour before finally kicking them off, stretching, and starting her day. A short routine of stretching and exercise got her warmed up, and after a quick shower and not-so-quick drying off, she felt ready for the day.

Another half-hour passed as she flipped idly through her journal, before Spark finally woke up, looking as if he were still half-asleep. Breakfast was a very filling and delicious meal, again cooked by Willow Leaf, and filled with happy conversation about nothing of significance. After that they headed out; Spark had plenty he wanted to show her.

"Have you ever seen an airship?"

Meadow smirked a little as she looked over to him. He looked as if he were only barely restraining himself from bouncing again, an energetic spring to his step as they trotted along. "Only from a distance. I'd see one flying over Manehattan every now and then, but never up close."

He made a happy noise in reply, and she merely chuckled. His enthusiasm was amusing, even if the thought of those flying leviathans held a rather ominous place in her imagination. The hive didn't have anything to compare to such machines. The civil applications of them, particularly in such a massive kingdom, were staggering. The military applications were simply terrifying.

Their destination was Sunseeker's "shop", a term that proved to be rather under-selling the place. A trio of large buildings surrounded a large courtyard, currently occupied by the hulking shell of an airship propped up on braces. It was the size of a fairly large house, likely capable of holding dozens of ponies or tons of cargo once it was complete. Even in its current state, with most of the hull planks still missing, it was imposing. Around it, several ponies were just getting started with their work, laying out tools and supplies.

"That's our largest project yet," Spark said proudly. "Most of our ships aren't nearly so big, but this was a special order. Some new experimental airborne expeditionary unit the Princess recently approved the creation of. They needed several new airships made, and since there are fairly few builders, we managed to get one of the orders."

"Impressive," Meadow replied, despite a lingering concern over how military that had sounded. "So what are your usual ships like, then?"

"C'mon," he said with a grin, trotting over to the side entrance of the largest building, which sported a pair of massive doors at its front. When they entered, she could see why: a pair of partially built airship hulls were resting inside the structure, surrounded by supplies and temporary workstations. One looked almost complete, with workers in the process of painting and lacquering it. It was still large, despite being perhaps a quarter the size of the one outside. The other was even smaller, looking like it might only hold a half-dozen ponies and some minimal supplies, but it also looked more streamlined and graceful.

"These are what we usually make. Smaller craft, like personal yachts and such. The kind a family might get. Well, if they can afford something like that." He smiled a little awkwardly, uncomfortable about... well, Meadow wasn't entirely sure what. "They're a lot cheaper than the ones some other builders make for the nobles and really rich ponies, but we make sure to build them just as well."

There was pride in his voice as he finished the statement. "Well, I don't really know anything about airships, but just judging from the amount of work it looks like you all put into them, I would imagine so."

He was grinning as he looked over the smaller airship, raising a hoof to run it along the curve of its hull. "It's kind of amazing, you know? I mean, I'm an earth pony, but I can take some tools and parts and a bit of time... and I can fly!"

"You must really enjoy this job," Meadow said, though she didn't need to ask. Even without the ability to sense his emotions, his happiness would be obvious. "Though I have to admit, I'd expected more gears and mechanisms with you involved."

Curiously, Spark just grinned more. "...You want to see something special?"

"Special?" Meadow asked, feeling somehow dubious with how eager he looked.

Spark quickly lead her back out of the building and toward the back of the lot. "That's all just what I do on the job. It's a lot of fun building stuff, even if it's mostly just wood, but... well, dad let me use an old shed and a bunch of his tools for my own special project. I've been spending most of my off-work time on it."

In the back of the lot was a large shed, half hidden among all the lumber supplies. Next to it were a few miscellaneous metal parts, which both looked somewhat out of place among the mostly-wood supplies for the rest of the shop, and served as a good indicator that this was Spark's section of the lot. He trotted up to the shed doors and threw them open.

Meadow stared for a few moments in complete incomprehension at the jumble of metal girders, plates, and rods that looked to be assembled into one single machine, though she couldn't tell to what purpose. Then her eyes widened in surprise. "Oh!"

It looked like a greatly scaled-up version of the little toy flying machines he had made in the orphanage.

Spark stepped up to it, smiling proudly. "This is just a prototype. Kind of a testbed, really. There's a bunch of scaling issues. Lift scales at a different rate than mass and structural strength, and it took me a couple builds to even get to this step." He rested a hoof on the body of it, which was simply an open cage of steel tubing around a simple chair. Behind that sat what looked somewhat like one of those magically-driven motors Meadow had seen used for fans and other devices, only much larger. Just like a fan, it had blades protruding from its axle, long and thin. Another, much smaller set of propellers sat at its rear.

It was ugly, crude, and simple. Signs of use marred its frame, all manner of scrapes and dings, unpolished welds, even a few places where the frame was dented in and simply left as-is. It was not pretty in the least. But it looked practical. That was something Meadow could respect more than any fancy looks.

"First time I started it up, the motor was too weak to turn the propeller fast enough. Second time, I had enough power, but the propeller broke apart under the strain. I eventually made one that was thinner and stronger, got the power balanced right, and actually got the thing off the ground! But... well, it's scary. It barely flies, performance is horrible, and it'll fall out of the sky if I do anything even slightly wrong. I wouldn't want to take it even as high as the rooftops."

"You're not really selling me on this thing," Meadow noted wryly, though she gave an encouraging smile.

"Oh, no, this one is junk," Spark agreed quickly, giving a laugh. "But to actually get it working, to have it lift up off the ground? It was incredible. I got it to work. Heck, that first flight? That's when I got my cutie mark! Sure, it didn't fly well, but it was just a test of concept, really."

He motioned toward the back of the shed, and they moved further in, to find another creation of very different--and incomplete--design. "This one, this is my real work!"

It was larger, with a longer, roomier body and two large lifting fans on either side, set in what looked to be a pair of simple, wing-like protrusions. The magical engine fed into a complex and seemingly incomplete series of gears and axles, numerous cables ran from the crude seat in the body to all sorts of other points, or simply dangling unattached. "It's nowhere near flying, of course. The whole thing is so much more complex, but if I did all the calculations right, this thing should soar!"

Meadow was silent for a moment, looking over the device. "It certainly looks impressive," she said. Then she smirked. "And this looks much more like what I had expected to find you working on than those wooden ones."

Spark chuckled softly, still looking over his machine. He had such a confident, proud look to him. He was in his element, sure of his ability. She knew that look well, or at least the feeling of confidence behind it. That was her, any time social manipulation and deception were called for. Unstoppable.

"...Have you ever flown?"

"I--" she stopped, considered it a moment, then spoke again. "I've been in some really tall buildings..."

He chuckled softly, then looked back to her with a grin. "You want to?"

Meadow's eyes widened in surprise. "I thought you said that thing was dangerous!"

Fortunately, he just laughed at that. "Oh, no, not in that thing. It wouldn't be able to lift both of us, anyway. C'mon!"

Just like that, he was cantering off, with her hurrying after him. She was just catching up when Spark entered the main yard and called out. "Hey, dad!"

Sunseeker looked up from the diagram he was setting out. "Hey, Sparks!" Then he glanced over to Meadow before returning his gaze to Spark, grinning. "Showing off your machine, hmm?"

Spark's reply came out in a burst. "Yeah--hey can I borrow the Cirrus?"

There was a moment of silence as Sunseeker processed what was said, and blinked. "Uh, well... I don't know. I'm going to be busy working on this, and I don't know if you're really ready to be flying on your own. Maybe if you can get your mother to go with you?"

"Oh," Spark said, deflating slightly. "I, uh... I was kinda hoping I could take it up on my own, just Meadow and me..."

The corner of Sunseeker's mouth crept up a bit. "Well, if you can convince your mother to just be nearby, just to keep an eye out in case things go wrong, then I suppose you can borrow the Cirrus for the evening."

Spark let out a loud, happy sound, gave his dad a tight hug, and then they were off again. Willow was easy to find, speaking to one of the tenants outside their apartment. When confronted with their plan, she rolled her eyes and let out a mock sigh. "Oh, I suppose I could go out and fly around on this beautiful day, instead of just plodding around on the ground. Oh, the sacrifices I make for family!"

And half an hour later, Meadow was flying.

The Cirrus was an airship, naturally. More notably, it was the family's personal airship. The design was simple, the balloon unadorned, unlike some of the garish designs some of the larger ships had. It was small and plain, just large enough to hold a small family comfortably, but that was more than enough room. As Willow enjoyed herself, flying loops not too far away, the Cirrus rose up into the sky, with Spark steering it.

As they left the ground, Meadow had a hard time concealing the nervous glances down. It would be so easy to have something go wrong. Willow's nearby presence gave a little comfort, even though she'd surely save Spark first if something went wrong, and might not have time to save a second pony. The thought of falling to death seemed a great irony to Meadow. Heights were never a concern to her before, but being trapped in a form without wings seemed to highlight the danger. And she was trapped; she could not shape-shift when ponies could see her doing so.

Why do I keep following ponies into dangerous situations? I already know most of them are insane. And I'm insane for following them!

When she looked to Spark, though, she saw the happy, confident look still on his face. He showed no worry as he adjusted one of the controls, steering the airship into a gentle, slightly-banked turn as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Thoughts of falling faded from Meadow's mind. This was something Spark knew. He'd been flying in these things before--heck, he built the things, now. He might be overly enthusiastic about some of his interests, but he wasn't insane, not like some ponies were. If he was confident in their safety, then surely there couldn't be anything to worry about.

So she sat back, letting herself slowly relax. It was such a strange experience; a unicorn and an earth pony, floating gracefully through the sky, the whisper-quiet motor leaving only the soft sound of the wind. She had been flying several times before, but it was unique to be floating there in such calm. No effort, no exertion, just leaning back and relaxing, up in the warm afternoon sun.

She smiled. It was rather beautiful in a way, she supposed.

It was well after dark by the time they returned to the apartment. Meadow had originally planned on getting a job that day, but that plan hadn't accounted for Spark or his family. There was the flying, a little tour around the neighborhood, and another large dinner.

"I should really look for a job tomorrow," Meadow said as they entered, before letting out a quiet yawn.

Spark nodded, attempting to hold back a yawn of his own, and kicked the door shut behind them. "Yeah, I kinda figured. I said I'd help, and I meant it. Actually, I've already done some looking around." He smiled, a hint of embarrassment creeping into his feelings. "I might have mentioned you to a few people looking for help. And, you know, kinda gushed about how great you are."

She smiled in return, though she couldn't help but worry that he might have come across as too strong. Too strong of an encouragement might come across as bragging, if by proxy in this case. In either case, he meant well. I... guess that makes a difference?

The thought nearly brought out a frown, but instead, she merely said, "Thank you, Spark. I'm glad for the help."

He laughed softly and shrugged it off. "After all the times you've helped me, I'm just glad I could do something in return. I guess the real question is, what kind of work are you looking for?"

"Oh, well... to tell the truth, anything where I can help ponies would be perfect. I've always found that sort of thing... rewarding." She couldn't help but feel smug at the statement being completely factual and yet utterly misrepresenting the truth.

Spark nodded again, with a quick surge of amusement coming from him. "That sounds like the very first place I went looking, then. I kinda had a feeling you might say something like that."

"Oh? And where is that?"

"Charity runs the aid committee at the city hall, and she’s been looking for an assistant. She does a lot of work to help out ponies that are down on their luck or just need some assistance, as well as organizing volunteer efforts. It sounded like there was a lot of work going on there, so she could use the help. I thought it might be a good place to start?"

He looked to Meadow, face happy, but his emotions clearly hoping that she approved. This is really way too easy. "That sounds perfect," she said, giving him a generous smile, and enjoying the surge of happiness.

A moment later, she let out another yawn, and this time Spark echoed it. "Well... in that case, I'll take you there in the morning. So we should probably get to bed. And in that case..."

He turned and flopped down on the couch. "I was here first," he said with a grin. And then stuck out his tongue.

Meadow smirked. Maybe she should just accept his insistence and take the bed? It was probably more comfortable than the couch, and he obviously didn't mind. On the other hoof, she could make do just fine with either--or neither, in fact--while he would likely benefit much more from sleeping in an actual bed. Keeping him happy and in good condition was rather important, after all.

Then another amusing thought occurred to her, and her course was decided.

A sly smile crossed her face as she walked over to the side of the couch, eyes watching Spark intently. "Ah, you may indeed be there first, but you forgot the one rule that can override the 'I'm first' rule."

Spark crossed his forelegs defiantly, though he was still grinning. "Oh? And what's that?"

In reply, Meadow's horn lit up. The green aura of her magic enveloped Spark and lifted him up into the air. "I'm stronger than you."

"H-hey!" Spark flailed in surprise. "Put me down!"

"That was the plan," she stated primly as she strutted to the bedroom. "Just as soon as I get you to your bed." The effort of her magic was a bit of a strain, but she didn't show it. Besides, she would be getting enough loving energy here that she could spare expending some just to have a little fun.

"Meadow!"

She didn't answer, floating him through the doorway to deposit him on his bed. She grinned smugly from the doorway.

"That's not fair," Spark said, casting a glare at her, though the smile that was struggling to come out ruined the expression. The faint annoyance at being displaced was overwhelmed by the amusement of the situation, much to Meadow's satisfaction.

"Of course it's fair," Meadow replied in a matter-of-fact tone. "You've got a nice comfortable bed, I've got a perfectly sufficient couch, and everypony is happy. Also..." And she stuck out her tongue.

Spark snorted out a laugh. "Fine, you can have the couch! This is what I get for trying to help you out, hmm?" he teased.

"A nice, comfy bed to sleep in? How will you ever survive?"

Spark gave up any pretense of being annoyed, chuckling softly as he shook his head. "I guess I'll manage. Good night, Meadow."

With that, he reached out to the oil lamp set beside his bed, turning it all the way down. The guttering flame cast a weak glow across the room, just enough to see by. Still not a fan of the dark, I see.

"Good night, Spark," she said softly, before turning to make her way back to the couch.

The next morning saw the pair of them at the city hall, a structure that Meadow supposed was intended to look grand and impressive, at least by pony standards, but which Meadow could only see as an incredibly inefficient use of space. A huge stairway rose from the street to the entrance, elevated well above the ground level, with a large and unused space surrounded in columns. She shook her head, thinking of how the entire building could fit in a space half as big as it actually occupied. Maybe less. Ponies had no idea how easy they had it, living in a place with near-unlimited space.

Inside was no less grandiose than outside. The floors were all polished stone. Large paintings hung from the walls, showing everything from previous mayors to memorable moments in history. The main lobby, a huge, open chamber, even had several statues, the largest being a statue of Celestia that rose above the second-floor balconies.

Meadow looked around the huge room. "It's a bit... much, isn't it?"

Spark smirked a little. "Yeah, maybe. I always found the place a bit stuffy, myself."

She smiled a little, bumping her shoulder against him. "See? I knew I liked you for a reason."

"Hooray, my great and previously unknown skill of architectural appraisal has served me well," he said in reply, his smirk growing a bit.

Meadow raised an eyebrow, a little surprised. A little hint of anxiety tickled at her senses, as if he wasn't quite sure his attempt at humor was well-placed. At least that was easy to dispel. "Wit and multisyllabic vocabulary. Oh, you wouldn't believe how rare that is. Yet more reasons I like you."

Spark was blushing faintly, drawing a smug grin from Meadow. "Eh, I'll have to plead 'luck' for the wit," he said. "Usually it takes me a minute to come up with something witty, and by then, it's not witty. It's just kind of sad."

"And yet there you go, being witty again," she pointed out. "In any case, you're more interesting to talk with than any of the other ponies I've met. It's good to see you so talkative."

"Just with you," Spark said, sounding a bit dejected at the admission. "I get a bit enthusiastic and talkative about some things, but other than that I don't really get out much. You and my parents are the only ponies around that I really talk much with."

Meadow nudged her shoulder against him again. "Well, you should try it more, you're good at it. And if not, I'm here for you any time you want. You're fun to be around."

Ah, that worked well, she noted, drawing in a bit of the surge of appreciation. He makes this so easy.

"Thanks," he said smiling happily for a few moments before blinking, the smile vanishing. "Wait, no. We've got this backward. I'm supposed to be here for you today. Getting you a job and all, right?"

"Oh. Yeah." Right. Job has priority over extra food. "So, um... where do we start?"

Fortunately, Spark had already met with Charity and knew the way to her offices, so Meadow soon found herself meeting with the official.

Charity seemed almost out of place in the building. She looked quite normal, with a pale blue coat and golden-blond mane, both fairly well-groomed. What made her seem unusual in this place was that this was the extent of her grooming. Many of the other officials looked primped-up, groomed, and dressed in fine clothing, and looked very, well, official. While she obviously didn't have a complete disregard for appearance, she didn't seem to put as much emphasis on it as some of her compatriots did. Meadow found herself approving of this, or at least, disapproving of it less than she did the others. Too many ponies put too much emphasis on personal comfort, and far too few put a decent amount of effort toward their work. That she looked worn-down, bearing all the signs of long days of working, tipped the judgment more toward approving.

It probably also explained why Charity's face--and emotions--lit up with happiness on meeting a pony looking to become her assistant.

"So you're the Meadow Song that Spark Wheel has told me so much about?"

Meadow put on a friendly smile as she shook the offered hoof. "I hope so," she said, then worried that the light attempt at humor might not go over well. How does one behave at an interview for a job? This was uncomfortably new territory. She'd heard of interviews before, of course, but that was a far different thing than understanding what goes on in one. She'd been told that an interview consisted of speaking to an employer and answering questions. That was about as complete and useful of information as saying you make friends by talking to ponies; technically accurate in broad strokes, while offering nothing useful whatsoever.

She sensed no anger or upset, so perhaps it was going well.

"Well, I can't tell you how happy I am to have someone eager to help out here. My last assistant moved on over a month ago, and I've been running ragged trying to keep things going. A second set of hooves will help out immensely." They had entered Charity's office, leaving Spark to wait in the hall. She offered a chair, taking a seat herself. "So I suppose the first question is, do you have any experience in this kind of work?"

Meadow frowned a little. "Um... Well, to tell the truth, I'm not entirely sure what this job entails, other than helping ponies. As far as that goes, I've been doing that most of my life, though never officially as a job. When I was at the orphanage, I helped out the other kids. I mostly helped with little things. Studying, help with hobbies, stuff like that. Some of them just needed somepony to be a friend, after what had brought them there."

Emotions started to flow from Charity, sensations of sympathy and... respect? Admiration? Seeing that her answer was working, she continued. "After I left the orphanage, I basically kept doing the same thing. The last half of a year, I'd been doing random jobs around Hoofington, helping out anypony that needed it. Whatever needed to be done. It didn't pay much, but I liked doing it. It was very satisfying, helping ponies out."

It seemed to be working until Charity voiced a question. "So how come you left to come here?" Meadow knew enough to see the unasked question: If it was really as satisfying as you say, why would you leave?

Meadow's smile faded a bit. "There wasn't very much to do there, so I thought I could do more good here." That's weak, she thought, mind scrambling for a better answer. "And, um..." Hesitantly, she tilted her head to the door. "...Well, he's here."

Technically true, even if it gives a completely wrong implication. Of course, that's what she was counting on. The charmed smile on Charity's face showed that it was working.

"Ah, I see," Charity said with a knowing nod. "Well, I think this should work out nicely!"

A few more minutes passed as they discussed the finer details of the responsibilities of the job, as well as her pay. After another quick hoofshake, Meadow stepped into the hall to tell Spark the good news.

As soon as she did, Spark gave her a tight hug. "All right, Meadow! I knew you'd get it!"

Meadow laughed softly. "Considering how badly in need of help she is, I think she'd hire just about anypony that came in off the street. I'm surprised nopony got the job before me. It seems perfect!" Okay, the pay is a bit low for the amount of work, but it's enough to get me home, and that's what counts!

"I guess you're lucky, then!"

"Yeah." She squeezed him a bit tighter in the hug. "Thank you, Spark."

He blushed again, just a little. Way too easy.

"Hey, you're welcome. I mean, I didn't really do much of anything."

"Still, thanks. I wouldn't have even known about this if not for you." She finally broke the hug. "Anyway, Charity was wanting to show me around and get me started. I guess she has a huge backlog of work to be done and she's really happy to have the help, so I should get to that. I guess I'll see you tonight?"

There was a soft feeling of sadness at those words, very faint behind the general happiness, that sat slightly uncomfortably with Meadow. He must be disappointed that they couldn't spend the day together, and she didn't want to do anything that might harm his affection. Then again, short absences might just work out, making him appreciate every moment with her even more. Yes, this could work out nicely!

"Yeah, I'll see you tonight, Meadow." He smiled; despite the hint of disappointment, he was still quite happy. "I hope it goes well!"

Saying their goodbyes, Spark headed out, while Meadow turned back to get to her first day of work.

Meadow almost managed to make it through an entire workday before encountering Bigs.

After several hours of basic preparatory work, with all the paperwork and filing that needed to be done so they could get on to the more important task of helping ponies, it was time for a break. Meadow was perfectly willing to keep working, but Charity insisted, saying that regular breaks were mandatory. Ponies work such short hours that they can spend half their waking day doing other things, and even then they still need regular breaks. How lazy can a species be? How do they get anything done?

And so, she found herself being guided by Charity to a new room.

"This is our break room," Charity said as she opened the door, guiding Meadow in. The room was a decent size, with a few tables, benches, a small fridge, and a pair of ponies. "Ah, and we've got company. Meadow Song, this is Paperwork..." She gestured to a gray unicorn, who nodded to them, "...and Big Shot." She gestured to the younger earth pony, whose eyes were wide with surprise.

Charity noticed this, giving a questioning look. "Bigs? Are you all right?"

Meadow just grinned happily. This could be fun. "Oh, he's probably just surprised to see me. We were at the same orphanage."

"Yeah," Bigs replied slowly. The surprise had vanished, replaced by a carefully neutral expression, but Meadow could sense the loathing that had surged up behind his act.

"Oh!" Charity exclaimed, smiling. "Well isn't that a happy coincidence! I'm sure you two have a lot to catch up on, so I'll get out of your mane. See you in fifteen!"

She turned to leave but hesitated at the door. "Paperwork? Didn't you go on break almost an hour ago?"

The unicorn laughed nervously, quickly rising to his hooves. "Oh, yes. I'm on the job, I, uh, just came to get a quick drink of water. I'm feeling much better now!"

He stood and quickly walked to the door, with Charity holding back a roll of her eyes until he had passed. Then, with a final nod to Meadow and Bigs, she left as well.

Big's carefully neutral expression fell to a scowl. "What are you doing here, Meadow?"

She just grinned. "Oh, I work here. I guess that makes us coworkers. Isn't that just great?"

"Yeah, great," Bigs grumbled. "You'll fit in perfectly with all the other blood-sucking leeches around here."

Meadow chuckled. "Ah, Bigs. You always did think your little barbs were more insulting than they really were."

He muttered something as he turned back to the fridge, pulling out a sandwich. "So what are you really doing here?"

"It's a good job, and I get good money to help out ponies," she replied, then added, "Being able to keep an eye on you is a nice side-benefit."

He sighed, rolling his eyes. "Why do you even care about me, anyway. We haven't--"

His words were cut off by Meadow's laughter, leaving him to scowl at her as the laughter slowly died down. "Oh, oh Bigs. Hehe. I don't care in the slightest about you. You could go on to be the King of Manechester, or die suspiciously some night in your sleep. It makes no difference to me." She leaned in toward him. "But I do have an interest in certain other ponies. Ponies like Spark. And that means I'm going to be right here, keeping a nice, close eye on you, making sure you keep your hooves to yourself."

Bigs snorted in her face. "Really? I've barely even seen the twerp since I got here. I might not like him, but it's not like I'm going to go out of my way to harass him for some foalish grudge. I'm not as petty as you are."

"Not petty?" Meadow said, nearly bursting out in laughter again. "You? You're the pettiest pony I've ever met, Bigs. You beat up smaller foals and start nasty little rumors just to make yourself feel better about yourself. Yeah, not petty at all."

"That was years ago," Bigs shot back. "I grew up. You should try it sometime, Meadow."

She just chuckled softly, shaking her head. "You need a lot of practice on your insults, Bigs. That was just sad."

He grunted, walking toward the door on three legs while he held his sandwich held awkwardly in the fourth.

Then he stopped. Turning to look at her again, he spoke. "Besides, if I really wanted to 'get back' at Spark Wheel, you know what I'd do?" He turned more, stepping back toward her. "Nothing. Absolutely nothing. You'll do that all on your own, won't you?"

Meadow's expression tightened. "Is that so?" she said in a condescending tone.

"That's so," Bigs replied, eyes narrowing. "You think you're so clever. You've got your little hooks sunk in him, deep. What is he to you? A puppet? A plaything for your amusement? The one and only pony you're able to manipulate into liking a despicable creature like yourself?"

"You're one to talk," Meadow said, eyes narrowing faintly.

"Yeah, I am," he snapped back, harshly. "I know how it works, Meadow. I've been there. I've seen all your manipulations. Your little lies. Your sneaky little behind-the-back tricks. Your threats. If I wanted Spark to suffer, all I'd have to do is let you go along, doing your thing. You're a back-stabbing, conniving, soul-sucking witch. And you know what? I may not like him, but even I don't think he deserves something as horrible as you."

Meadow could feel her muscles tensing, a faint shudder building as she had to force herself to be still. She didn't want to just stand there. She wanted to wrap her hooves around that thick white neck and squeeze until she could feel the life fade from his wretched body. "You should watch what you say, Bigs."

"Or what?" he snarled, now muzzle-to-muzzle with her. "Are you going to threaten to kill me again? Don't bother. I remember that, Meadow. That's not the kind of thing you forget. But that's not going to work now. I'm respected. I do good work here, and ponies recognize it. I've got an influential and respected family, with real authority. You make another of your threats and you'll have the entire Guard breathing down your neck. And if I 'mysteriously' vanish, they'll know exactly where to look. Even you can't be that stupid."

He turned again, stomping to the door, while Meadow stood there, fuming. He paused a moment. "I told them, you know. About your earlier threat. Right now, they just think it was a foal being a foal. But I'll be keeping an eye on you. So will they. If you step one hoof out of line, they'll see what you really are, and you won't believe how hard the Guard comes down on your worthless head."

With that he left, slamming the door behind him. Meadow stood rigid, fuming as she glared her hatred at the now-closed door. Slowly she forced out the thoughts of beating down that infuriating pony, willing herself to calm. A fit of furious anger would not help her new job in the slightest.

By the time her break was over, she finally felt ready to return to work.

Spark wasn't in his apartment when she returned at the end of the short work day. That was fine by Meadow. She could use the time to unwind and relax, and a long, hot bath helped out immensely at calming her mind. There was something wonderful about the heat surrounding her like that, that just made it impossible to stay tense.

Raising a leg, she watched the water trickle down her hoof and through the fur. Even after all this time, her own limbs still seemed ever so slightly strange, covered with fur and so strangely solid. Why do ponies lack holes in their legs, anyway? It looks so weird like this.

She sighed and let the leg drop again, before casting a glance to the door. She had the apartment to herself, at the moment. There was a temptation to shed her disguise. After all this time, she'd never gotten the opportunity to try bathing in her natural form. Not with warm water, anyway. Would the relaxing warmth feel just as pleasant on chitin as it did on soft flesh? Always, there was the fear of discovery preventing such an experiment. She'd tried out a shower in her natural form, back in her Manehattan apartment, but showers just weren't the same.

With another sigh, she let the fantasy slip away again. There was no telling when Spark would get back, or if she'd hear him enter the apartment, and the last thing she needed was for him to find some monstrous bug-pony cleaning itself in his bathtub.

Though she couldn't help but snicker at the absurd imagery that scenario brought to mind.

As it turned out, she did hear the door shut when Spark returned, followed by the faint drumming of his hooves on the floor. A minute later she finally rose from the relaxing luxury of her bath, pulled the plug, and set about the lengthy task of drying out her fur.

She stepped out of the bathroom to find Spark kicked back on the couch with a small salad. He smiled warmly as he saw her. "Hey Meadow! How'd your first day at work go?"

Sitting beside him, she shrugged a little. "Not bad. I was mostly getting shown around, so we didn't get much done. Still, it looks like the kind of job I could really like." She considered mentioning Bigs, but there was no need to go ruining a perfectly good mood by bringing him up. "How was your day? Were you working again?"

"Nah, I'm not back until tomorrow," he replied, holding out the salad bowl for her to grab a couple quick bites. "I finally saved up enough bits to get some new metal-working tools, so now I can make new gears without having to hoof-cut each one..."

The conversation wound on into the evening, interrupted only to go next door for dinner. After that, and several more compliments on finding a job already, they returned.

Meadow considered her situation. The income from her job was decent. Spark had offered to let her stay with him, though his parents, who were the actual owners of the place, had decided she would pay some small portion of rent now that she had a job. It was far less than a full apartment, even that tiny one she had in Manehattan, so she was quite happy to do so. Minus rent, food, and a modest bit for incidental expenditures, and she should have enough saved up for an expedition in...

She considered the math for a moment. Just under a year.

It was a little longer than she would like, but it was finally an actual target. It would happen. Just one year, and she would be reunited with the hive.

As for now? She had a job. She had a place to stay. She had enough friendly ponies around her to never worry about going hungry. This was a place she could happily spend a year in, or even more.

She looked over to her bags, still sitting beside the couch. She was staying here; it felt like the only thing remaining to make it formal was to unpack.

So she opened the flap of her saddlebags. Her planning journal was set aside. Next, she pulled out the various grooming supplies, most destined for the bathroom, followed by the one dress that she had kept. As she did, a glint of light and a quiet thump from the floor drew her attention downward.

There on the carpet lay the little compass.

She picked it up. The thing was battered and worn, misshapen. The needle wobbled in place, scraping against the bottom. She had done her best to straighten it out, to fix it up, but there was only so much she could do. She stared at it for a few moments before softly calling out. "Hey, Spark?"

"Hmm?" He walked over to her, curious to see what she was holding.

"I... I know it's really banged up, and it's missing the lens, but... well, you're good with metal and machines." She held the compass out to him. "Do you think you can fix this?"

He took it gently, looking it over. "Yeah, it's pretty simple. I doubt it'd be a problem. Heck, I could make you an even better one, if you want."

She hesitated, taking a few moments to find the right words. "It was my mother's."

Spark's eyes widened a bit. "Oh," he said, sympathy welling up again. Then he smiled. "Yeah, I'll fix it up as good as new."

Meadow was filled with a mix of emotions of her own, but the only one she allowed to show was happiness, a weak smile crossing her face. "Thanks, Spark."

Chapter 13: Holidays

Chapter 13: Holidays

"Hah! Flee, you foals! Nightmare Moon has come for you!"

Meadow cackled evilly. It was a good evil laugh, even if the effect was somewhat spoiled by Spark snickering beside her.

She cast a haughty gaze to him, glaring out from under the silver helm. "Are you laughing at Nightmare Moon?"

He quickly stifled his chuckles, though he couldn't hide the amused grin. "Oh, no, I'd never laugh at her--I mean, you."

"Hmm..." She held her mock-glare on him for a few moments more before turning her head away, nose raised as she began to slowly strut, the perfect image of a dark queen convinced of her power. "Very well. Nightmare Moon shall forgive you this once, for your excellent service in crafting her royal armor. Perhaps you will even be permitted to keep all of your candy tonight."

Spark had certainly outperformed himself in making her costume this year. Having access to an array of metal-working tools and with Meadow able to buy materials, rather than using what they could scrounge up, the resulting costume was truly impressive. Oh, sure, the armor wouldn't give that much protection. It was still very thin metal, but it looked regal and somewhat threatening, and it fit her so perfectly. He'd even done a good job making an armature rig for the wings, which were covered in artificial feathers. It didn't move, but it looked convincingly enough like real wings held loosely at her side, particularly at night.

Yeah, it'd take a lot of scrubbing to get the black dye out of her fur, but it was well worth it for such a costume.

Spark's costume, on the other hoof, looked almost plain by comparison. He'd dressed up as a stereotypical pulp adventurer, complete with a whip and "adventurer's" hat. It managed to look both completely impractical for actual adventuring, and immediately recognized as being intended for such. Meadow chalked it up as yet another example of "ponies are weird" and tried not to think too hard on it.

"Keep all my candy?" Spark said, in an amused yet sarcastic tone. "You're such a generous evil overlord."

"Yes, Nightmare Moon can be very generous to her minions!"

"Uh-huh," Spark said, then nudged her. "C'mon Nightmare Moon. Let's get going before we miss all the candy." He glanced around. Night had already fallen, and apart from the houses and celebrations, the street was quite dark. "...And do you think you could turn on the light, again?"

"What?" Meadow cried out, as if insulted by the very notion. "Nightmare Moon will not taint her beautiful night by befouling it with light!" She scoffed.

"You used to," Spark pointed out.

She frowned at him, again fixing him with that cold, condescending glare, though the corner of her lips hinted at curling upward. "...Very well. But Nightmare Moon shall only permit the creepy light!" As she spoke, her horn lit up, casting her vivid green light across the area.

"So generous," Spark said, and then mock-whispered, "Nightmare Moon needs to learn first-person pronouns," which earned a very non-regal chuckle from Meadow.

Quickly recovering her composure, Meadow continued her haughty, regal strutting. "Onward!" she said, and then called out clearly to the world, "Nightmare Moon demands all of your candy!"

Holidays were possibly the high-points of life in Manechester. Even normal days were nice enough, with most of her free time spent with Spark. She would often hang around while he was working on his flying machine, the two of them chatting away as he worked. She would help as she could, though she understood so little of the actual mechanics behind what he was doing. Her help mainly consisted of holding something in her magic or passing him tools. It might be simple, but she didn't find it boring. It was like watching somepony building a three-dimensional puzzle, only he made all the pieces himself. Even when she was just kicking back and reading, or writing in her journal, there was something nice about being there. He seemed happy just to be around her, and that made his emotions strong and delicious.

The holidays, however, managed to be something special. They would occasionally go out and do something else, something fun, but the holidays always seemed to bring just a little more. Nightmare Night was an entire night of going out and having fun. Spending an evening hanging out was nothing new, but once he was sucked into the mood of the night, Spark seemed even happier, and a happy Spark meant a more well-fed and happy Meadow.

Where the holidays were something of a high-point, work managed to occasionally be a low-point. Most of the time, it wasn't bad at all, even if she spent a bit more time organizing paperwork and planning than actually helping ponies. Most of the help they managed was financial in nature, although the volunteer projects they organized--and which Meadow often participated in--were much more hooves-on with the ponies they helped. It made for a strange mix of tedium and exertion, but it was satisfying each time she came across a pony she had helped, directly or not, and was able to catch a bit of the thanks and affection they felt toward her.

No, the low-point of work was that she worked in close proximity to Bigs.

On a good day, she would never see him. They worked in different areas; she worked in the aid-committee offices--although "committee" sounded rather ostentatious for an office of two ponies--while Bigs was one of the clerks for the City Council offices.

Some days, however, she'd run into him in the break room or in the halls. Those were bad enough. The day after Nightmare Night had been one of those days. She had been sipping on a drink while reviewing some details of her planning journal when he approached her, seeming almost as if he wanted to start up a conversation.

"So I heard from a couple other ponies that you looked like a real monster last night," he said, leaning on the edge of the table.

Meadow just sipped from her drink, still looking at her journal. Seeing that she wasn't going to respond, he shrugged and continued. "Well, I told them it was a little unfair. I thought you did a very good job disguising yourself as Nightmare Moon."

Meadow was silent for a moment before snorting out a chuckle. "That was almost witty. Or it would be, if only it hadn't taken you four years to come up with. Now it's just sad."

Bigs had just rolled his eyes and walked away.

The worst, however, was when she had to deal with him as a part of her job. There were only two primary clerks for the City Council offices, so half the time she had to pass something on to them, it had to go through Bigs. They were "busy" ponies who were far too important to handle all of their own work, so the clerks handled much of the paperwork for them.

Even from the first encounter, she could tell it would not go well.

When she arrived at the office to find Bigs behind the reception desk, fixing her with a hard look, she knew the day was about to become frustrating.

"From Charity," was all she said as she handed the paper over.

Bigs continued to stare at her for a moment before lifting up the paper and reading. Several moments later, she realized he was not just skimming it to see who it should go to. He was reading it thoroughly.

Finally, he sighed, lowering the paper to look at her again. "No, Meadow."

"What?" She said, barely holding back an angry response. "What do you mean, no?"

"Exactly what it sounds like," he replied. "Your office's request is denied."

Her eyes narrowed very slightly. "Are you really so petty that you're going to deny aid to ponies that need it, just because of some foalish feud?"

"I'm doing my job," Bigs shot back. "And that job is to make sure that the council doesn't have to waste its time dealing with proposals like this, which only waste everypony's time before being inevitably denied."

"Or maybe you should pass it on," Meadow said, "And see if they're as adverse to helping ponies as you are."

"Do you think I like..." He glanced down at the paper and at least had the grace to radiate a little guilt as he spoke again. "...denying extended funding for the food program? I don't, but your office has a budget, just like every other part of the city government. You can't expect us to pull bits from other offices just because your office can't figure its way around a budget."

Meadow rolled her eyes. "It wouldn't be depriving other branches of any money. There's a discretionary budget for a reason, Bigs."

"Yes, and that reason is for dealing with emergencies and unexpected expenses," he shot back.

"Like the poor harvest and extended storms scheduled?"

Bigs leveled a hoof at her. "That's not unexpected, Meadow. That's been known for months. That's why your office's budget got raised almost ten percent this year. If you were better at managing money, that would be more than enough to make up the difference." He sat back, crumpling the paper in his hooves. "It's enough to make a pony wonder where all that money is going," he added in a very accusing tone.

Meadow's jaw clenched. Was he really implying that she was embezzling the money? The little voice in the back of her head that noted that it might not be such a bad idea was quickly strangled by the more emotional part that angrily pointed out that it was Bigs who had suggested it.

She stormed out of the office, the striking of her hooves echoing through the opulent halls as she went. Even as she fumed, she tried to wipe away the furious expression. I'm losing my cool, she thought angrily. I shouldn't let some brain-dead cretin of a pony get to me like that. Despite that thought, it was a struggle to bring that paper-thin veneer of calm over her hatred. The faint smile was there, but she knew her eyes looked too hard, the corners of her mouth threatening to curl into a scowl at a moment's notice.

Once again, Bigs was messing with her food. Every aid program was a few more ponies who felt thankful to her, a little bit more emotional energy for her to harvest. It was like a delicious meal dangled under her nose, only to be yanked away at the last moment. She might be able to get a little appreciation from those ponies if it seemed she put enough effort into trying to get the help they needed, but it would be only a shallow echo of what it could be. With this denial, some plan from her office would have to be cut back, and that meant some of those ponies were going to be disappointed in her.

She came to an abrupt stop.

No. They're going to be disappointed in somepony... She glanced back, a smirk slowly spreading. ...but it doesn't have to be me. In fact...

She paused a moment, a smirk growing as she resumed her trek back to the aid offices. She had some new proposals to work on.

It took only two weeks for her to find a good candidate. Merry Skies was a single mother of two little foals, one of several families whose houses had been badly damaged when a section of the riverbank had eroded away and collapsed. The city was already repairing the ground damage and reinforcing against future erosion, but it had left five families temporarily without homes. Several of them couldn't afford the repairs needed. Some, such as Merry Skies, didn't even have any friends or families to call upon for temporary lodging. They were entirely on their own.

It was exactly the sort of thing that the aid committee was intended for. Emergency housing funds would ensure that those suffering such unexpected losses as natural disasters would have shelter, as well as providing raw materials for repairs, while the volunteer program they organized would bring in ponies to do the actual work.

Contrary to Bigs's accusation, they did have a budget worked out, and quite detailed. This was intended as a guideline, a plan of how the money would be spent to ensure that they wouldn't go overboard in some area without considering the consequences to others. It left enough wiggle-room that they could afford unexpected events like this with minimal complication.

But on paper, it made it look like every single bit was already planned for, and they had none to spare. It took a little convincing before Charity allowed Meadow to draft up a proposal for additional funding for this specific project. Meadow knew it was unlikely to get approved, as anypony high up enough to do so would also be well aware that the aid committee should have plenty of money to cover this. Waiting to make sure it was Bigs who would receive it made its approval even less likely.

When Meadow returned, her ears drooped faintly, head held slightly lower, and her steps were slightly more sluggish. She wore a very convincing mask of disappointment, one that was echoed much more sincerely by both Merry Skies and Charity when they saw her.

"Bigs turned it down," Meadow said with an unhappy sigh.

Silence hung over the group for a moment before Charity spoke up. "I suppose we might be able to shuffle some funds around from other areas..." She was already digging around her desk to find the ledger holding the budget information.

"We shouldn't need to do that," Meadow said quietly, sitting down with a faint huff. "The city has a discretionary budget specifically for emergencies, he--they just won't spend it. We shouldn't have to pull funding from helping other ponies when the money is there."

"I know," Charity sighed. "But we only have so much to work with. I... I hate having to budget out help like some callous miser, but I'll do everything I can to help somepony in need. Some cases are just too important."

Meadow nodded, outwardly glum. Charity had said exactly what Meadow had expected. That pony might not be the best at budgeting and organization, but she was certainly driven to help others.

She allowed the downcast expression to linger for a few moments, before wiping it away, her eyes looking up to the other pony as if a new hope had suddenly occurred to her. "Charity, wait. I might... I think I might be able to take care of this, without pulling money from elsewhere. I know some ponies that might be willing to help..."

Ponies are basically good-natured creatures. While some might be selfish or rude, most were very soft-hearted. They may lack the strong sense of communal responsibility that the changelings held, but they typically held a sense of empathy for the individuals around them. Furthering their people as a whole was a distant, typically irrelevant thought, but the plight of those around them struck a chord. It might be short-sighted and narrow in focus, but it had its uses. For instance, it was quite easy to sway ponies from a more logical path by a simple appeal to emotion.

As such, Meadow's task was easy, even easier than she had planned. When she approached Willow Leaf about arranging temporary lodging for Merry Skies and her children, Meadow had expected to pay at least some small rent for the period. Instead, Willow listened to the story, and eagerly offered one of the empty apartments for the displaced family, free of charge. She even extended an offer of reduced rent if Merry decided to move in, rather than return to her home. Meadow might have thought it was a cunning business move, following up charity by a very tempting offer to an already-indebted individual, but she doubted that Willow could have ever intentionally come up with such a clever and conniving plan.

Spark was just as easy to persuade. All it took was explaining the situation and asking if there was anything he might be able to do to help, and he volunteered his time to the cause. He, in turn, spoke to several other ponies, and soon Sunseeker and a few of his employees had happily signed on to help--after work hours, of course. They even contributed some of the spare materials from Sunseeker's shop.

Temporary housing was covered, raw materials were inexpensive, and most of the workers were volunteers, offering to work for free. Charity had to divert only a small portion of the funds they had originally anticipated, purchasing the rest of the materials and providing food and drink for workers. Despite their offer, she insisted on giving them at least a token pay as a gesture of appreciation.

Less than a week later, Meadow stood proudly along the bank of the river, looking over the row of houses she had helped repair. It had been hard work, and she'd been right there in the middle of it every day after her work at City Hall was done. The signs of repairs were still obvious, but only from the freshness of paint. Almost all of the volunteers were highly skilled, and the structures were as well-built as they had been on their very first day.

Meadow enjoyed the feeling of accomplishment. She'd convinced a group of ponies, a generally lazy and unfocused lot, to work hard for her own goals. She'd accomplished this for a fraction of the cost it would have normally taken, all by knowing the right ponies to contact and by working herself to near exhaustion. She'd even gotten a hug and a wonderful serving of appreciation from Merry, overjoyed that her little "disaster" was over with.

She even managed to overlook that this disaster was merely a loss of luxuries that these ponies simply took for granted.

The only negative thought was the reluctant recognition that this might not be the most efficient path for her. With how overjoyed Merry was with how things had gone, she likely wouldn't even note how it had come to be: how Bigs had turned down the funding to help her, leading to Meadow putting in her hard work to see it through despite that setback.

Perhaps I should let the next aid effort fail. It would certainly embitter ponies toward him.

As she looked over the results of her work, however, she couldn't help but feel that this was the better way. She was used to working hard, after all, and for far less reward. Everypony there knew that she had organized this, and had seen her working as hard as any of them with the rebuilding. She had hauled loads in her magic, lifting supplies, doing some of the simpler tool-work, and constantly organizing and directing the work. The feelings of appreciation and respect were strong and filling, more than making up for any physical exertion.

Bigs was right about one thing: he had a good reputation here, he was respected. She, however, was a new face, untried and untested, even if she was spoken well of by a few ponies. If she were to face him on even ground, building up her own reputation was the first step. His own involvement in events such as this would be greatly overshadowed by her own, but it would still be there, lingering in the background. It may not be spoken of, but the knowledge would be there.

It did have a delightful subtlety to it. Such a thing was nearly invisible, but when it ever came to a comparison between Bigs and herself, these ponies would remember who was there for them and who was willing to turn them away. Certainly, it was more elegant than anything Bigs could do.

She didn't register the sound of hooves stepping up to her until Spark was standing beside her, smiling softly as he looked at her. "You really enjoy doing this, don't you?"

"Yeah." They were silent a moment before she turned to grin at him. "You seem pretty happy, too. I didn't think there'd be enough gears to keep you interested."

He snorted lightly, bumping his shoulder against hers. "You're always coming along to watch me work, even though you're not exactly mechanically inclined. I just wanted to do the same. I'm glad I did, Meadow. You do good work."

She had gotten plenty of affection throughout the years. Respect, even. They were tasty emotions, ones she was quite familiar with. Now, however, she sensed a new feeling. There were similarities to both, the general flavor of respect, yet carrying a more intimate feeling, a personal connection. There was a distant familiarity to it, as if she had sensed it long ago, the memory faded by time.

Recognition came abruptly, and her smile grew a tiny bit more as it did.

He was proud of her.

Manechester might not be as large as some cities, but there were still enough people for Meadow to have quite a bit of work, and as a result, plenty of opportunities to engage in her little plan. In the end, she had helped out with two large fires, a landslide, a bulk rainbow spill that flooded out a small neighborhood, an incident involving a student of magic, an ancient arcane artifact, a modified and unintentionally amplified Come-To-Life spell, and a three-story-tall statue of Celestia--how the remorseful student got off with a mere apology and helping the clean-up still escaped Meadow--and about a half-dozen lesser events before Bigs figured out what she was up to.

It only took him almost two months to do so.

As it turned out, there was a weakness to her plan, one that Bigs somehow figured out. She discovered this as she was passing on another of her planned-to-fail requests.

Bigs looked it over while Meadow stood there, trying not to look too smug. She could sense his annoyance at her presence, and it always brightened her day just a little bit. This time, however, it seemed to diminish all too quickly. In fact, he seemed increasingly amused.

Looking up from the paper, he gave her a narrow smile. "I'm afraid you've overlooked something here, Meadow."

She rolled her eyes. "It's all filled out, complete and proper. There's nothing wrong with it."

"Oh, I wouldn't go that far," he said with a smug grin. "But that's not what I was referring to."

He stood, still holding the paper. "I'll make sure the council gets this immediately."

Meadow's expression fell to a carefully calculated neutral. She stood silently for just a moment too long before replying. "Good."

With that, she turned and left, inwardly grumbling. Only a couple hours later, she received a sternly-worded letter from the council, detailing every reason why such a request was denied, in extensive detail.

After that, she had found herself in a rather frustrating position of being unable to do much about Bigs. The only consolation was that they were on relatively even ground. As it turned out, that was not much consolation, not when she had to see his face fairly regularly.

Meadow briefly considered other methods of gaining the upper hoof. There were all manners of methods she could employ to ruin his reputation. Threatening him seemed unlikely to work, but she could still frame him for something. She could wait for him to be without an alibi--sleeping at home, for example--and then be seen committing some crime while disguised as him. It was tempting, but crimes would be looked into much more seriously than foalish pranks. Who knows what kinds of things magical investigation might turn up? Even if it merely revealed that he appeared to be in two places at once, with nothing to prove her involvement, it would still work against her. Then everypony would know that somepony was specifically targeting him, and the last thing she wanted was to give him reason to gain their sympathy.

Simply killing him was out, too. Even if it wasn't such an inelegant and distasteful solution on its own, the investigation for that would be furious. She'd seen how much attention a simple burglary had drawn. But a murder? Sure, she could probably find some way that looked like an accident, but even the smallest of suspicions would draw far more attention than she wanted, particularly when he had told others of her earlier threats. They might not be considered seriously at the moment, but death has a way of making people reconsider things.

There was one method that she regularly returned to in her thoughts, occasionally daydreaming about. It was more of a fantasy than a real plan, but it was one that just seemed so much more fitting, more... changeling. She imagined producing a new persona, some pretty mare to catch Bigs's attention. Lure him in, entice him, woo him. To become the greatest thing in his life, the pony that brings him more happiness than anything else... and to then crush his heart. Stab him in the back. Take everything he values, everything he loves, and stomp on it. Leave him suddenly alone, shown just how unloved he really is.

And best of all? She could make it all look like it was his fault. He wouldn't be alone with a broken heart because the object of his desire turned out to be a horrible, manipulative pony. He would be alone because he wasn't good enough. Because he did something wrong to drive her away. Meadow could do it. She had no doubts about that.

A pity that it could be nothing more than a happy fantasy. Such a plan would require a constant devotion of time, and her only free-time was spent with Spark, who was far more important than somepony like Bigs.

Besides, such a plan would require being nice to Bigs, if only temporarily. She was absolutely certain she could do it. She was an excellent actor. She'd just rather not.

Not that it stopped her from daydreaming about it. Nor did it stop her from planning out every step of how she'd do it.

Only from acting on it.

Happier diversions thankfully made up for any annoyances. Even if Bigs was a constant thorn in her side, it was a small thorn when compared with all the positives of the rest of her life in Manechester. She continued spending time with Spark, though he would often take a break from working on his project to join her in her volunteer work.

Perhaps the most interesting thing about the holidays was how much different they were from the times they celebrated them back at the orphanage. Nightmare Night had been much the same, but it soon seemed to be the exception.

Hearth's Warming Eve was the first, and in retrospect, Meadow could understand the difference.

At first, she had noticed a little hint of tension among Spark's adoptive parents as the subject of the holiday came up. The strange thing was that she could sense their unease clearly; it was directed toward her. It would have been unnerving if it hadn't been so light a feeling, and if it weren't paired with sympathy. That turned what could have been concerning into merely a curiosity.

More curious was a simple question Willow Leaf asked her.

Meadow had just returned from work and was walking along the second-floor walkway when Willow fluttered up to land on the railing beside her, resting there like a bird on a wire. "Hey, Meadow."

Meadow stopped, concealing a smirk at the pegasus's unusual perch. "Hi, Willow. Having fun?"

The other pony laughed softly, spreading her wings. "Of course. It's a great day for flying!"

Looking past her, Meadow eyed the snow-covered courtyard and the scattered snowflakes slowly falling from the sky. "...If you say so. It's a bit cold to be going so fast, isn't it?"

"That just means I can fly that much longer without overheating!" Willow replied, giving a quick flap of her wings, but then she settled down again. "But actually, I was wanting to ask you a question."

The unease had returned. "Oh?"

"Well... I was wondering if you'd be joining us for Hearth's Warming Eve, or..." She trailed off, her wings shifting slightly at her sides.

This seemed to be the source of Willow's anxiety, or at least very close to it, but Meadow could not imagine why. "Oh, um... I don't really have any plans. If you wanted to have me, I'd be glad to do so."

Even more strangely, the unease Meadow was sensing from her faded, while her sympathy grew. Willow even fluttered over to give her a quick hug--while still hovering, no less--before saying that she'd look forward to seeing Meadow there. With that, she flew off, up into the chilly skies. For some reason, she was smiling.

When the actual day arrived, Meadow was increasingly unsure of what to expect. In most ways, it was familiar. Spark, his adoptive parents, and Meadow all spent the day together. There was good food and company, and later in the day they attended a big play. Rather than the small affair arranged with several of the children of the orphanage acting the roles, it was a much larger production, with proper sets, background actors, and even musicians.

After that were the songs. Simple little things, all about love and friendship, harmony... and family.

That last bit was different. Meadow could see why that aspect of the holiday might have been downplayed back at the orphanage. Some of the children had been orphaned by the death of their parents, or were given up for adoption, or possibly even abandoned. Such a cheery reminder of what they had lost would have been cruel. No wonder their celebrations had left off that side of the holiday.

At least she was different, mostly. The hive wasn't a family, not really. Not the way ponies think of family. Most importantly, it was still out there. She hadn't lost her family, like all the other children in the orphanage. They were just temporarily separated. It was different.

It wasn't until dinner had come and gone, and a comforting wing was draped loosely over her back, that she realized how quiet she was that evening. Meadow looked over to see Willow's sad smile, and the wing gave a faint squeeze.

"You've been a wonderful friend for Spark," the pegasus said softly, "You're such a kind and generous pony, and it makes me so happy that he should know a pony as good as you. He's told us about how you're looking for your family, and I wish you all the luck in the world, but... but I want you to know that you'll always have a family here with us, as well." She gave another soft squeeze. "It's the least we could do for such a good friend."

Meadow slowly smiled. "Thank you," she said, despite the slight tightness growing in her throat.

The smile she wore the rest of the evening hid the conflict in her mind. There she was, being comforted by ponies once again. The truly distressing thing was that it worked. Such a sickeningly sappy pony sentimentality, and it worked. She shouldn't care at all about what Willow had said, but she couldn't deny that her words had an effect.

It was only as she lay down to sleep that night that another thought occurred to her.

And why shouldn't I be happy about what she said? I've played my role so well that they're welcoming me into their family, something these ponies value so highly. It's not just some stupid pony sentimentality, it's a clear demonstration of my skill and worth. I've slipped my way into a loving family, fooling them into thinking that I'm a pony deserving of their love and respect. That's the kind of accomplishment that makes for a worthy Infiltrator!

With a content smile unburdened by any lingering concerns, she closed her eyes and slept.

Time passed easily. Work was rewarding; ponies seemed even more thankful for help when it was cold and snowy out, and she rarely crossed paths with Bigs outside of the occasional run-in at lunch. There were few events outside of that of any real importance. She tagged along with Spark when Sunseeker launched a new airship, one of the larger ones they had been working on. It was an impressive sight. Even though Meadow had ridden on an airship a couple times now, it didn't really compare. Cirrus was a tiny thing, while this airship was a full-sized yacht. She'd seen bigger over Manehattan, but that had always been from a distance. Viewed up close as it lifted into the sky, it looked so much more real, and somewhere in the back of her mind, more ominous.

Another day, Willow brought them to an air-show put on by local fliers, who flew all manner of convoluted and tricky patterns. The highlight of that show had been a professional flier from a group called the Wonderbolts, which appeared to be some strange cross of show-performers and military fliers. Meadow, of course, noted how ridiculous that concept was, and how much it spoke of ponies that their military fliers would be show-ponies first, and fighters a distant second--if at all, she derisively thought. Still, the maneuvers were amazing to behold. Willow was particularly enraptured by it, and looked as if she were only barely holding back from leaping up to join in. Each maneuver brought out a little flare of her wings, little twitches and adjustments, as if she were imagining herself flying up there beside them.

As time passed, another holiday loomed, more ominous than the last.

Many ponies might think Hearts and Hooves Day would be the perfect holiday for a changeling--had they known of the existence of changelings, that is. In some ways, they would be correct. Back in the orphanage, it had been a proper feast. Ponies were quite friendly creatures by nature, but the holiday brought the thoughts of love and friendship to the forefront, and Meadow had reaped the benefits of this. After all, she was attractive, friendly, and always going out of her way to help other ponies. Most of the children had good reason to like her, and that meant a lot of appreciative colts and fillies, all encouraged to express those feelings.

Now, however, she only had the one.

Even though she might not understand ponies beyond the point that was needed to act like one, she was not naive or ignorant. She knew what they felt. Even though she avoided acknowledging it, the fact was that Spark had a crush on her, and had since she first arrived here. He had never brought it up, but that couldn't hide such an obvious fact from her. She ignored it, but that wouldn't change that it was there.

Hearts and Hooves day threatened to change that, and no matter how many times she considered the benefits, she couldn't help a small sense of dread.

As the day grew closer, she could sense the rising feelings in Spark, as well as the growing nervousness. The message to Meadow was clear: Spark was going to do something. Something to try to make their relationship stronger than just "friends.”

In some ways, it was tempting to simply accept it, to enjoy it. After all, finding a true, personal love to feed on was the ultimate goal of any Infiltrator. Meadow had never tasted pure love before. There had surely been some in the feeding pool back in the hive, delivered by the other Infiltrators, but that was mixed and muddled with all the other positive emotions to the point that it simply blended in. The energy Ceymi had poured out had been rich with it, enough to give a tantalizing taste of the pure emotion. But true love, pure and unmixed? Meadow had only heard stories of it. It was supposed to be the most amazing and euphoric taste in the world, and so much more powerful a source of energy than any other emotion.

And here she was, with an opportunity to cultivate that emotion, to harvest it for herself.

But she knew better than to simply leap into any endeavor simply because of its benefits, without considering the disadvantages. Caution had been the most important word in her training, encouraging her to look for the potential dangers. She found two.

The first problem that came up was a matter of time. Her training had emphasized that the stronger the relationship, the more work was required to maintain it. Ceymi had been rather clear on that point. A relationship that consisted of casual affection could be maintained easily. One that consisted of a strong love would require regular, almost constant work to maintain that strength. As much as she desired a source of true love, there was the matter of priorities. No matter how much love she could gather, it mattered nothing without being able to bring it back to the hive. Her priority had to lay with her plans to find her way home, and that meant that her primary focus had to be on her work, to earn the bits she would need to get home. Any time she spent on maintaining a relationship would detract from that. After all, she could always build it up after she had found her way back to the hive.

She allowed herself a little sidetrack to consider the idea of resuming her prior ways of thievery. She could save up for the expedition so much quicker, after all. Sadly, caution won out again. While it would be quicker, she couldn't help but consider the suspicion. If such burglaries were to start up again, here, somepony would surely make a connection to the crimes in Manehattan. A particularly clever pony might even notice that she was a common element in both cases, and that she had left Manehattan within days of the last burglary. She was even a minor public figure, increasing her visibility. No, it was just too risky.

The second problem with encouraging a deeper relationship was the fact that she would be leaving for a time, when she went to find the hive. She had no idea when she would return. It could be months, or even years. Would she be able to return immediately? Would they insist on further training to ensure that she could handle the responsibility of the role, despite having done so for years? Would they even let her return? She quickly dismissed the last concern, but the others still posed a problem. Building up a relationship required work, but restoring one that had decayed could require considerably more, and might even be impossible. True, it might also make it easier, if it encouraged a feeling of longing while she was gone, but it was still a risk. If he were to grow to love her, months of absence could threaten that. Would he hold out while she was gone? Or would the love fade, with the dampening memory of an apparent abandonment preventing it from ever kindling again? She could simply wait until she returned, and easily avoid the entire issue.

As such, she decided to wait, despite entertaining fantasies of feeding off the wonderful pure love that lay easily within her reach if only she were to encourage it.

It should have been easy. All she had to do was continue on as things were, being a good friend, without making any overtly romantic gestures. Simple. Easy. Problem-free.

And then Hearts and Hooves Day had to come along and muck it all up.

The day itself drew steadily closer, the entry on the calendar ominously and relentlessly closing in like an oncoming train. She could practically feel her control of the situation slowly being peeled away, as the oncoming holiday emboldened Spark.

Finally, the day before the holiday itself, the feelings it stirred up in Spark overwhelmed his nervousness. She had come home to find him sitting in the living room. He gave her an anxious smile as soon as she entered. Once the initial greeting was done, he finally breached the subject.

"So, um... Meadow. I was wondering..." He fidgeted a little, one hoof poking nervously at the side of the couch he was sitting on. "Well, tomorrow is Hearts and Hooves Day, and I was just wondering if you'd like to maybe go out and do something?"

And there it was. Meadow mentally grumbled. Of course he would start with a request that could only be answered with "yes" or "no." She could come up with some excuse to turn down the request politely, but she could sense his feelings. His excitement at the prospect of her accepting was matched by his fear of her refusing. Simply turning him down ran the same risk of driving him away, ruining later prospects of building up the relationship. Besides, it would probably leave him crushed, and she really didn't want to make him sad. As a result, she was practically forced to accept.

However, that didn't mean she had to give up complete control. The situation wasn't hopeless. She just had to play this right. If she could play along with this, being just encouraging enough to keep things from falling apart, but not so much as to build the relationship up further, then it would all work out. It was the social equivalent of a tightrope act, a narrow path to success with failure looming on either side. She was an Infiltrator, though. She was in her element. She could do this.

Though she noted that, if she were to fail... falling on the side of encouraging his love would be the far more desirable outcome. She tried to keep that thought from her mind. She didn't need the temptation.

Fortunately, she did not need to think of any of that at that moment. Such thoughts had already been bouncing about her head for days. At the time of his question, she needed only to give the answer she had already thought of.

"Well, sure. I don't have any work tomorrow. It'd be nice to have something fun to do." She even smiled nicely.

Spark overlooked the slight disappointment that she had responded so casually, instead seeming to focus more on happiness that she had accepted. He tried to play it cool, of course. After all, Meadow was being so calm and casual about it, so it wouldn't do to act as excited as he was feeling. Despite that, Meadow caught a couple glimpses that evening of him practically bouncing with excitement when he thought she wasn't looking, and his affection was growing even stronger. It was amusing... if a bit concerning.

The one relief Meadow had through the day was the knowledge that Spark had absolutely no idea what he was doing.

He had some ideas and plans for the day, but they all seemed so simplistic to Meadow. Sure, she'd never put serious time into investigating and understanding romance, her time spent on more important goals, but that didn't mean she hadn't looked into it at all. There were the other couples she had observed, the stories she had heard, even others talking about what a date might consist of. She'd even read a couple of the romance novels Charity had talked about, though she had quickly concluded that they were utter trash. It had all worked together to give her an impression of what a "typical" date might consist of.

Spark had obviously gotten the same impression of what was normal for a date. However, that just exposed how little experience he had with such things, as that's all it was: normal. He covered the elements in their basics, but that was pretty much it. There was no personalization, no altering the routine for the individuals involved. Meadow might have no more experience with romance than Spark did, but she knew social interaction. She could have pointed out so many things that could have made the day much more effective as a date, but that would have been counterproductive.

It was somewhat amusing, in a way. Meadow thought that a pony might even describe it as cute. He had no idea what he was doing, but that wasn't stopping him from trying his hardest.

The day got properly started when they went out for an early lunch at a downtown café. Meadow made a point of trying something new as an "experiment," ordering some fancy creation of minced flowers and grains with a long and foreign name she couldn't remember. It let her feign disappointment in it; the first little flaw in the day. She tempered this by making a game out of stealing a few of Spark's hay fries, to his amusement. A little bit of a negative in an otherwise positive event. Not an ideal, perfect date, but not really bad, either.

After lunch, he took her to a play. It was some comedy about some tragic misunderstanding between two pairs of ponies that snowballed into a fairly wild series of events that Meadow couldn't at all find reasonable, but were still funny despite that. Spark clearly enjoyed it. She did too, and said as much, though she made sure to mention a few "little nitpicks" in a lighthearted tone that she hoped would make them seem not at all serious, but still cast a slight shadow over it. Judging by the faint rise in nervousness from Spark, it had worked.

They wandered about after that, with Spark leading her to a museum. She hardly even had to do anything, there. While they shared reactions to most of the exhibits, that largely did her work for her. They both were interested in the exhibits on machines throughout history--Spark was positively enthralled by a few pieces, and Meadow could appreciate their complexity even without understanding how they worked--while they both found the "fine arts" kind of boring.

One exhibit drew a very different reaction from the two of them: a showcase of the Equestrian Guard throughout the centuries. Spark was intrigued by some of the items on display, but Meadow could only suppress the foreboding feeling she got on looking at a reminder of Equestria's military power. Even Spark seemed to notice her grim mood through her act, and they moved on soon afterwards.

The final event of the day was clearly intended as the centerpiece of the day. Spark had gotten reservations at a fancy restaurant called Sweetwater, which had an array of terraces overlooking a bend of the river. It was fancy, with a beautiful view, good food, and a high price tag. The service was even much more pleasant than she had expected from all the horror stories she had heard of anything even approaching "high society."

They ate, and talked, and enjoyed their time together. Spark complimented the food. Meadow agreed, although she casually mentioned that it was the first restaurant she had been to that could compare to his mom's cooking. He would start up a conversation, and she would subtly guide or derail it, aiming for that perfect amount of pleasantness; good, but nothing exceptional. She couldn't help but enjoy the back-and-forth of it. It was like a battle of words, and she was easily better equipped for such a conflict.

Finally, they returned home. Meadow couldn't help but feel a little smug. The evening had gone perfectly; which is to say, not at all perfectly, but still fairly good. Spark was a little quiet, probably feeling a little awkward about how the "date" had gone, but he had still enjoyed himself. Truth be told, Meadow enjoyed herself, too. Even if it was a somewhat awkward attempt, it was still a nice day spent alongside Spark. The thought of how much better it would have been if she hadn't worked to subtly sabotage the day was exciting. Someday, hopefully...

But as Meadow was beginning to relax, thinking the battle of wits and words won, Spark delivered an unexpected blow.

They had just arrived home when Spark got a very nervous but serious expression. "Hey, Meadow, I was wanting to ask you something."

She cocked her head, looking to him curiously, while alarm bells started going off in her head. "Oh?"

"Yeah." He fidgeted a moment before continuing on. "My birthday is at the end of the summer. Mom and dad have offered to let me stay here, and at low rent, but... I think I'm going to move out."

She blinked. That was not at all what she had expected him to say. For one, it wasn't a question. "Why's that? I mean, what did you want to ask?"

He walked over to the coffee table, moving a book to reveal a small, folded pamphlet with a picture of a home. "I found this place. It's a small house, but it's a good-sized property, with a really big shed. It's the kind of place I could move my whole project to, so I can work on it from home, without having to take up space at dad's shop."

He passed the pamphlet over, letting her look over it. It might be small for a house, but it was still quite a bit larger than the apartment. "It's... it's kind of expensive, though. I know you're saving up money for your expedition, and I really don't want to get in the way of that, but I..." The nervousness built up in him, to the point that it seemed he had to force himself to murmur out the rest of the sentence. "I was wondering if you'd move in there with me."

If Spark hadn't been looking down at his hooves, he might have caught the faint narrowing of Meadow's eyes.

There it was. One simple, unambiguous, yes-or-no question. Yes, and she was giving a clear sign that they were more than just friends, even as it delayed her plans to go home. No, and she would be trampling on his hopes, all but calling him unworthy of her company, likely ruining any chance of ever developing anything greater than friendship.

Well played, Sparks.

And so, she did the only thing she could.

She smiled, her expression soft and happy. "I'd love to."

His nervousness washed away as he grinned, quickly hugging her.

She had been outmaneuvered. Despite all her talent and training, Spark had found a weak-point and had delivered an unavoidable blow. Despite all of her little manipulations at steering the evening, he had won a narrow victory.

Yet as he hugged her, practically brimming over with happiness, she couldn't quite bring herself to mind it.

Meadow hadn't expected another question of such noteworthiness to happen for quite a while, but just a month later, another one reared up.

The month itself went smoothly enough, if a bit mentally draining. The social tightrope walk continued on, a constant struggle to keep things from going too far, too fast. It wasn't really that hard, and so far it had gone well, but it could become a little mentally draining when she had to constantly weigh whether her actions would make Spark too happy. If anything, it made her even more eager to return to the hive. The sooner she could get through all the difficulty of finding her way home, the sooner she could be done with this tiring vigilance and encourage the feelings he had for her. That made the expense of moving hit even harder; the amount she had to spend for normal things had already pushed back her plans to fund an expedition, but with the added expense of helping to pay for the house, it would probably be another year before she had saved up what she wanted. It was enough to make her begin considering alternative plans. Heck, on the worst days she began seriously considering simply flying out again and hoping for the best.

As for the new question, it came out of the blue one evening, as she lay on the couch, lazily writing in her expedition-planning journal. A very energetic Spark bound over to her, with a phrase that nearly made her wince.

"Hey Meadow! I've got a question!"

The very-slightly sly grin he wore as he said that both worried her, and assured her that whatever it was, it surely wasn't too bad. "What's that?"

"Can you get a few days off for the Summer Sun Celebration? Maybe a week?"

She tilted her head, ears cocking at odd angles as she tried to figure that one out. Finally, she closed her journal. "The City Hall will be closed both days, and I'm sure I could get a few more for a good reason..." She let the final words hang as an implied question, which Spark quickly took up.

"Oh, there's a good reason," Spark replied. "I was going to go to the Summer Sun Celebration, and I was hoping you might want to come with me?"

"Well, sure. But why would you need several days? Even if they hold it on the other side of town, it wouldn't take more than an hour to get there."

"Not that Summer Sun Celebration," he said, with an amused roll of his eyes. "The Summer Sun Celebration! Your letter about seeing Celestia raising the sun got me wanting to see it, and she's going to be at the celebration in Canterlot this year. We could see both on the same trip!"

A cold shock went through Meadow. Immediate objections and an urge to caution filled her head, but more practical and immediate matters came to mind. He was obviously excited about this, and would probably be very disappointed if she said no. In fact, she had practically already said yes. Turning around to say no would be suspicious when the only detail that changed was the location. She could come up with an excuse, but really, what kind of pony would be afraid of Canterlot?

Steeling herself, and speaking just a little bit more stiffly than she intended, she replied. "That sounds good. I'll see if I can get the time off, then."

Spark didn't seem to note her internal struggle, instead, he lifted his head and grinned in an amusingly haughty expression that he probably copied from her. "Good! Now if you'll excuse me, I have plans to make!"

"Plans?" Meadow asked, raising an eyebrow suspiciously. "What kind of plans?"

In a singsong voice, Spark replied, "It's a secret!" before strutting out of the room. Despite the ominousness of that line, Meadow couldn't help but smirk at his silly mimicry.

That evening, when Meadow found herself with a moment alone, she slipped outside. She wandered along the walkway until she reached the other side of the apartment building, and then leaned across the rail, looking outward. There, past the rooftops, she could just barely see the distant city of Canterlot.

It held a commanding position. From such a distance, it was too far to make out any details, but the glow of the setting sun highlighted it in crimson and gold. Despite the distance, it was still quite visible, towering over the surrounding countryside. Anywhere in the heart of Equestria, the city was visible, looming over everything. Meadow couldn't think of a clearer sign of power and dominance than to have the entire royal palace elevated so clearly over everything. It made the Queen's spire back in the hive look subtle by comparison.

Meadow had never seen that city much closer than she was right now, and for good reason. There lay the Princess. There lay the Royal Guard, and the largest concentration of Equestria's military forces in the entire country. There lay the heart of their entire kingdom, with all the security that came with it.

Of all the places a changeling could go in the world, no place could be more dangerous than Canterlot.

And yet, as Meadow stared out at the city, she knew... they were still just ponies. Soft, trusting, naive ponies. She had been the focus of scrutiny before. She had encountered suspicion and accusation. She had been investigated by guards. She had received the attention of the Princess herself!

And she had fooled them all.

A smile slowly spread across her face. She could do this. She could enter Canterlot, and these ponies wouldn't even know what walked among them. The heart of their kingdom lay open before her. She could enter the most vital territory of the enemy of the hive, and she could enjoy herself while doing so.
A vacation does sound good, she thought, eying the distant city as it slowly faded into the growing dusk. This could be fun.

Chapter 14: The City of The Sun

Chapter 14: The City of The Sun

Once again, Meadow found herself sitting in a train. She spent most of the trip with her nose to the window, watching as the whole of Equestria began to sink beneath them. The train was making its way up the growing mountain range, and already the view was incredible. As the train sped along a cliff a few hundred yards in high, it could have been easy to think they were flying again, if not for the steady rumble of the train's wheels upon the rails beneath them.

This method of transportation, long since having lost its terror as its familiarity grew, now started to fascinate her. This was considerably different than her previous trips, spent riding along tracks that consisted of a simple pair of iron rails along mostly-flat terrain. This trip showcased the engineering might of ponies in a new way. As the train wound its way around and through the growing mountains, it traveled along massive earthworks and cuts in the very face of the mountain. It passed through long, cavernous tunnels bored straight through solid rock. It crossed over massive bridges spanning deep ravines and canyons.

All of this to allow people a quicker, easier method of transportation to the capitol.

Every few twists and turns, that city would come into view again, steadily drawing closer. Each glimpse of the distant spires, glittering in the sunlight, gave Meadow a little flutter of excitement. Each moment, she drew a little closer.

Spark seemed excited as well, although likely for completely different reasons than her own. He too was looking out the windows, a hoof idly tapping at the brand-new camera dangling from a strap around his neck. He had bought it just for the occasion, intent on saving as many memories as possible of this trip. He had snapped a couple pictures so far, but already it was mostly forgotten except for his absent-minded fidgeting. It was as if, lacking anything else mechanical to tinker with, he needed something to keep his hooves busy. In that respect, Meadow wouldn't be at all surprised to find him dismantling the thing just for something to do.

She paused a moment at that thought, before turning to him with a smirk. "So, how long until you take that apart to see how it works?"

"I can wait until after we've gotten back home," he immediately replied. Pausing a moment in his tapping, he looked down to the camera, then eventually looked back out the window with a faint smirk of his own. "Probably."

As they drew steadily closer to the city, details began to grow clearer. The individual buildings became distinct, banners flowing clearly from gold-clad spires. Crenelations, windows, and balconies began to dot the structures, with each glimpse of the city showing new details. Even the ponies of the city started becoming apparent. The first signs were the glitter of silver and gold, sun glinting off arms and armor, even before the ponies themselves were discernible. As the train turned one final time, having reached the level ground outside the city itself, the flashes of light had resolved into individual ponies. A few pegasi, clad in golden armor over white or gray fur, flew across the skies over the city. Below, their earthbound brothers in arms stood tall and proud atop the walls and towers, alongside the main gate, and anywhere else where their somewhat imposing presence might be considered desirable.

Non-military ponies were in evidence as well. As the train slowed, Meadow could see a fair number heading in and out of one of the city's gates. Several more flew among the towers, pegasi taking a quick shortcut that only they could make use of, or simply enjoying the wind in their feathers.

She didn't have the time to fully appreciate the view--although Spark did think to snap a picture for later viewing--before the train passed by the outer wall. The view out her window was blocked off by nearby walls as the train steadily ground to a halt.

Meadow's heart fluttered a little faster. As soon as she got off the train and stepped out of the station, she would be in Canterlot. The cold, acidic tinge of adrenaline teased at the edge of her senses. It grew with each step as she got up from her seat, following the small crowd of ponies leaving the train. She hardly even noticed the grandness of the train station, with its broad platform, perfectly-designed buildings, and colorful decorations. She instead noted the Royal Guard presence. A pair of white-furred unicorns stood at attention by the main entryway of the station, and a pair of gray pegasi stood atop a small tower nearby.

As she approached the exit, she examined every single detail of the guards. Their armor was surely designed for ornamental purposes, but it appeared to be perfectly functional as well. It was impeccably cared for, too. Meadow was not at all surprised to see that they would put such focus and attention to maintaining their appearance. If they put such dedication toward their training as they did their appearance, they would be a dangerous force.

Meadow had her doubts about that, though. Sure, the guards stood at attention, and their eyes scanned the crowd, but despite their imposing presence, there was something oddly casual about them. It was a vague sense, one that Meadow almost brushed off, but it fit so well. Little things kept catching her attention. They looked over the crowd, but she didn't perceive any real suspicion to their gaze. Despite standing at attention, they were not tense, clearly not expecting trouble. They had a vaguely proud air to them, but their looks were not condescending in the least. If anything, there was a curious warmth there.

And then, when she was only a few body-lengths away, one of the guards' eyes met hers. She knew better than to follow the immediate impulse to look away, a sudden reaction that could only look guilty. Instead, she forced the tiniest rise of the corners of her mouth, the barest hint of a smile, giving just a moment before looking away. Most curiously, the guard mirrored her response and gave a tiny bit of a nod. She felt no suspicion from him. Instead, there was a strange sensation emanating from him, distantly familiar.

It was a protective feeling. This Royal Guard mistook her for one of the herd, and proudly stood there, ready to guard them all, herself included, from whatever danger might come.

Meadow loved the irony.

Moments later she passed the pair of guards, passed under a broad archway, and stepped out into the street.

She was in Canterlot.

She had made her way past all the fortifications and guards and into the tender underbelly of the entire kingdom with casual ease, as if she were just another tourist visiting the grand city. There was no suspicion toward her. There was no sign that anything was wrong.

Meadow allowed herself a faint giggle as she looked around, taking in the sights of the grand city, laying open before her. She had fully expected that the ponies would bring their sense for aesthetics to an all-time high for their nation’s capital, but if anything, her expectations fell short of reality. Canterlot wasn't just a finer, more decorative city. It was as if it were an entirely different kind of city altogether.

Every building she could see was tall and graceful, made of smooth, white stone and accented with deep blue, dark purple, and above all, gold. The architecture was grand, reaching up into the sky, with arches stretching between towering buildings. The broad boulevard was lined by finely decorated light poles, and further down, where the road opened up into a broad square, she could see a towering statue of white stone. It was of an earth pony, and would have been two stories tall had it been simply standing. Instead, it towered even higher, reared back on its hind legs to hold up a flag in triumph.

Where other cities might have a few decorations to beautify the place, placed amidst an otherwise complete city, Canterlot integrated that aesthetic at its very core.

The camera clicked a few times as Spark finally tore himself away from taking in the sights himself to snap a few pictures. "This place is amazing!" he said, pausing in his photography to look around again. "I mean... look at it!"

Meadow nodded slightly, still looking around. Other thoughts came to her. How much had all of this cost? How much time and effort had been wasted in the pursuit of aesthetics which could have been better spent on function? How vain must the ponies' Princess be to focus so much on appearance? Yet as she looked around, those thoughts drifted away to merely linger in the background. "It is," she admitted.

Finally letting the camera drop back onto its strap, he pulled a piece of paper from his saddlebags and unfolded it. After a moment spent looking it over, he folded it up and tucked it back into place before turning his grin toward her again. "Come on! This way."

Then he was trotting happily along, wide eyes looking about eagerly. Meadow suppressed a sigh and followed along. His happy energy threatened to be contagious but she still felt a little displeased, and even a little uncomfortable.

Spark was keeping a secret. He had a plan for the trip, but he had refused to discuss any of it with her. He'd just grin infuriatingly and say it was a surprise. She didn't imagine it was anything dangerous, and she felt that she could trust in his judgment if needed, but going into a situation without knowing what she was getting into was still uncomfortable. She'd done that enough on her own. Knowing that somepony actually held the answer, somepony very close to her, was an extra-special flavor of frustration. Besides, didn't he trust her enough to not need secrets?

Lacking any better course of action, though, she followed Spark, putting on her best smile. As much as she hated to put her trust and safety in the hooves of a pony, she could make an exception for Spark. If he was keeping this a secret it was probably for a good reason.

Probably.

Spark led her on down the street, passing through the crowd. The city was busy, with an exceptional number of travelers filling the streets. The Summer Sun Celebration was clearly bringing in quite the crowd, eager to join in the celebration of their beloved Princess. Most of the ponies had the same distant look to them, paying more attention to the sights around them than where they were going. At least Meadow and Spark didn't look out of place.

A few blocks later, they reached their first destination. The hotel was the kind of building that looked as if it were trying to outdo all the other buildings around it, and doing a decent job of it. Its marble facade shone brightly in the sun, cut by huge single-pane windows, and a covered walkway with intricately-detailed pillars surrounded the broad courtyard before the building. Gold trim neatly accented the expanses of white stone. The courtyard itself sported the most impressive detail: atop a broad dais stood a huge statue of Celestia. The marble matched her perfectly, seemingly emphasized by the golden regalia. She was reared back, wings spread wide as if she were about to take off, but her head was turned down, eyes closed as if in concentration. Above her, between her outstretched wings, was a golden sphere, polished to shine perfectly in the sun.

Meadow blinked at this. The sphere appeared to simply float there, glowing softly in the sun. An enchantment? A trick?

At the base of the statue's dais was carved a single word, declaring the hotel's name: Excelsior.

She followed Spark past the grand statue and into the equally grand lobby. The broad windows along the front and both sides managed to give the impression of being open to the sky, sunlight filling the space with its warm glow.

With the number of ponies that appeared to be flocking to the city for the upcoming celebrations, Meadow was pleased to find that Spark had made reservations. Soon he had a key clutched happily in his mouth, and they headed up to find their room.

That room ended up being nearly at the top of the hotel. Meadow had to wonder just how much Spark had spent getting their reservations.

Opening the door, they were again greeted by the glow of sunlight. The refinement of decorations had not stopped with the lobby. Their room was actually a set of rooms, large and elegant. The one they first entered was like a living room, with a pair of couches, some chairs, and a low table. Huge windows lined both sides of the room, with the blinds raised to let the sunlight in.

Two doors led on from that room. The closest led into what was easily the most extravagant bathroom she had ever seen. The glass-enclosed shower could have fit a half-dozen ponies without difficulty, and the bathtub itself was as large as the entire bathroom back in their apartment.

The other door led into the bedroom, which in turn looked practically open to the air; windows stretched all around, and a couple steps below the level of the floor, a balcony ringed the room. The view of the city below was incredible, a shallow slope of buildings reaching out into space before stopping abruptly, set to the backdrop of the distant valley floor below.

All in all, it was ridiculously fancy.

She only pulled her attention away from the view when she noticed that Spark's attention had been drawn to the bed, an impressively large and plush specimen. It was nice, but Meadow wasn't sure why it had drawn his attention so thoroughly until a thought clicked in her mind: the bed. Singular.

"I thought the room had two beds," he said weakly, ears pinning back as a faint blush touched his cheeks. Before she could say anything, he quickly added, "You get the bed. This is all my treat, after all. Besides, the couches out there look as big and comfy as my own bed."

She rolled her eyes at this. "Spark, the bed is bigger than your bedroom." It wasn't quite, even if it would have filled most of the room, but that wasn't the point. The point was: "I'm pretty sure we'll both fit with room to spare."

It was a perfectly practical solution, and the bed was so spacious that it should surely avoid any of those "personal space" issues ponies had. Or at least, she thought so right up until Spark's blush grew furiously, the young stallion shuffling his hooves awkwardly as he struggled for the words to accept the offer without making it clear just how excited he suddenly felt.

"Uh, well... I mean, if you're okay with it, I guess..."

She suppressed a groan. Why do ponies have to complicate everything? "Yeah, I'm sure. The thing is huge, and I'd feel guilty about making you sleep on the couch when there's plenty of room there for you."

"Okay," he said. He fidgeted a little more.

Meadow decided to move the conversation on before the moment could get any more awkward. Shrugging off her saddlebags, she asked, "So what's that plan, now?"

"Oh!" Spark said and spun around in a complete circle before finally finding the clock. "Okay, we've got to get going. Come on!"

Abandoning his bags, he trotted out, and Meadow followed.

As they walked through the city, there was a clear change. The buildings grew larger and even more ornate. The wide-eyed tourists and friendly locals made way for richer, well-dressed ponies that walked in a manner that made it clear they thought themselves more important than the other ponies around them. And of course, the royal castle loomed closer and closer. Even the architecture changed, there. Most of the buildings in the city still had that unnatural, squared-off look that was common in pony structures, but the castle and surrounding buildings featured many graceful curves instead, and quite a bit more gold. The mid-day sun shone off the polished stone and gleaming metal.

The lower city also didn't feature such a prominent Royal Guard presence. Meadow rather preferred the lower city.

Spark had been leading her in a brisk trot all the way from the hotel. When he finally caught sight of a clock-tower, showing just a couple of minutes before one, he finally slowed to a more relaxed pace. "Ah, good. We made it in time!"

Meadow followed him as they entered the broad square with a huge fountain in the center. "In time for what, exactly?"

"You'll see!" Spark called back.

He was being far too smug for her tastes. I'm supposed to be the smug one.

Following Spark, she couldn't help but note the number of guards here. Several of the buildings must be government offices, judging by the guard presence. It was somewhat oppressive and unnerving, so many searching eyes watching over the crowd for any danger. She forced herself to remember the guard back at the station. Yes, they are the military arm of Equestria, the axe waiting to fall on our necks. Yes, they are the enemy. Yes, they would imprison or kill me if they had even the slightest idea of what I was. But they don't. They think I'm one of them. My disguise is foolproof, my acting perfect. They have no idea what I really am.

She was suddenly aware that Spark had stopped at the foot of a broad stairway leading up to one of the government buildings, and was grinning up at a group of guards.

...Except for that one, Meadow thought with a horrified chill as she saw one of the pegasi guards looking down at them and slowly grinning.

Meadow staggered to a stop, eyes widening. The gray-furred guard had spread his wings, and she could feel the excitement rising in him. He knows. How does he know? She glanced to Spark, who still wore that smug grin. He... he couldn't... no, it doesn't matter why! Focus!

Any attempt to focus was immediately derailed when the guard spoke. "Meadow? Is that you?"

She stood there with her mouth gaping, the voice and appearance finally clicking in her mind. "T-Thunder Chaser?"

The pegasus grinned even more, letting out a laugh. "Oh my goodness! Spark, that's--" he abruptly cut himself off, casting a nervous look at the guard standing next to him--who managed to give the perfect impression of rolling his eyes without overtly moving--and then spoke much quieter. "You weren't kidding about a good surprise, Spark!"

Spark grinned proudly. "Told ya so!"

Thunder Chaser chuckled. "Yes, you did. And wow, Meadow. It's so good to see you again!"

Meadow stammered slightly, her mind still trying to reconcile "Thunder Chaser" with "is a Royal Guard." Despite sending out letters, he was one of the old friends from the orphanage that she'd never gotten ahold of. His adoptive parents had gotten her letter, and sent one back that simply said that he was "away for training," and that they'd pass her letter on. They apparently hadn't done so, and Meadow hadn't bothered questioning what "training" he might be doing. Now she knew.

An awkward moment of silence passed before she forced herself to speak. "Wow. I mean... wow." Brilliant... She scrambled a moment, trying to think of how a pony would respond to the situation. Good-natured humor? She forced a friendly smile, speaking in a lighthearted tone. "I guess you had so much fun playing as a guard that you had to go and do the real thing?"

That seemed to work as Thunder's grin grew again, chuckling softly. "Yeah. That was fun and all, but it doesn't really compare to the real thing." He thumped a hoof lightly against his breastplate. "Not to knock your craft or anything, Spark, but there's just something about the real armor that's even better."

Spark was about to reply when Thunder Chaser's eyes darted past them with a mix of alarm and amusement. Meadow lurched to spin around to the potential threat, but before she could, a loud cry erupted from behind her.

"Sparky!"

A pink blur launched past Meadow to practically tackle Spark. He staggered, shocked to find himself suddenly enveloped in a hug by a very excited and giggling pink unicorn. Thunder Chaser chuckled at the sight. "She's been hiding over across the square for the last fifteen minutes, just waiting to ambush you."

Meadow, even with her brain running rather sluggishly given the situation, immediately put a name to the newcomer. "Cotton?"

Cotton Candy grinned up from her position, wrapped around Spark's neck. "Meadow! It is you!" She released Spark, prompting a faint gasp for air as she did. "And wow, you sure grew up! You look like a model!"

"Oh, thanks," Meadow replied, giving a slightly awkward smile. "You look good, too. You too, Thunder."

"Aw, thanks!" Cotton said. "Oh yeah..." The smile dropped as she walked up, raising a hoof to thump Meadow lightly on the shoulder. "You never write anymore!" She accompanied the statement with a mock frown, which was betrayed by the very clear smirk of amusement struggling to make its presence known.

"Oh," Meadow said, glancing back to Spark for a moment as she tried to think of a good excuse. When nothing came to mind--which was still fixated on the whole "Thunder Chaser equals Royal Guard" issue--she merely replied, "I've kinda been a bit distracted, I guess."

Cotton followed her glance to Spark, then looked back, and her grin grew. "Oh. Oh my goodness! Are you two a couple?"

Meadow blinked. "Oh, no, we're not--I mean--" She cut herself off, but the damage had already been done. She felt the little hint of sadness from Spark, though he kept it mostly hidden from his expression. Not quite well enough, though; she noticed Thunder Chaser wince slightly in sympathy.

"Oh really?" Cotton asked, just a touch too eagerly. Then, catching Thunder's reaction, she quickly tried to steer the conversation away. "Hey TC, how about you? We haven't gotten the chance to catch up yet. Your shiny new armor lured in any mares yet?"

"No," Thunder replied with a little roll of his eyes.

Cotton paused to consider this a moment, then grinned as she leaned in. "...Any stallions, then?"

Thunder flushed, ears pinning back. "N-no..."

This earned a giggle from Cotton. "Aw, but that'd be so cute!" Even the guard beside Thunder seemed to give the faintest smirk. Thunder just shuffled his hooves and wings awkwardly, trying to fall back into a similar at-attention stance as the other guards.

Oddly, it was the other guard that spoke up, now. "Okay, newbie. It's close enough, you can go off-duty now." Then, with a smirk, he added, "Have fun with your friends."

"T-thank you, sir." Turning back to them, Thunder said, "I'll be right back," before launching himself up into the sky and arcing toward the castle. The action drew a faint sigh from the other guard, but he said nothing more.

Just a minute later, a gray blur shot out of the sky, and with a clatter of hooves striking cobblestone, Thunder Chaser slid to a stop before them, minus armor. "Okay! Let's go!"

Meadow found it immensely easier to mentally deal with Thunder Chaser when he wasn't wearing that armor. His cutie mark, a shield with a pair of wings, was an unpleasant reminder, but at least that was more subtle.

They sat at a café Cotton had eagerly dragged them off to, a rather expensive one that mostly served upper-class ponies, and which had the quality of food to match. Once the food had been ordered, Cotton was eager to get up to speed with everything she had missed.

"So Meadow, what are you doing now? Are you a model?"

Meadow chuckled softly. "As appealing of an idea as that could be, my job is a little more mundane. I work for the city, organizing volunteer and aid programs. It's half boring paperwork, half hard labor." She shrugged. "I like it, though. It's rewarding."

Cotton smiled at this. "Still helping everypony out? Okay, I was wrong, that's even better than being a model. You get to be pretty and help ponies in need!"

With a little shake of her head, Meadow tried to put on an air of humility. "Oh, it's nothing too special. If you want something really impressive, you should see what Spark does."

"Oh, I know!" Cotton replied. "See, unlike some ponies, he still found some time to write." She reached out to poke Meadow again, then chuckled. "But yeah, airships and flying machines sound really awesome!"

"And how about you?" Meadow asked.

"Oh, I help build stuff!" Cotton replied around a mouthful of finely-roasted veggies. "Well, I'm more on the organizational side of things. My folks are in the Royal Engineer Corps, and I've kinda gotten into it, too. We're building a dam right now! Well, I mean, not right now, now. I'm on vacation for a week, but then it's back to building. Or in my case, organizing work teams, supplies, stuff like that. You should see the thing, it's huge!"

Meadow blinked in surprise. Of all the things she had thought Cotton Candy might have ended up doing, building massive infrastructure was about as far from any of them as one could get. Dams were one of those things that Meadow had only heard of, and she still had a hard time wrapping her mind around them actually being a thing that existed. She had seen enough of pony industry to know that such a task could be within their ability, but she still couldn't imagine exactly how. That Cotton Candy, of all ponies, would be involved in it...

She leaned to the side, peering at Cotton's flank, and the mixing bowl emblazoned upon it. "...I don't get it."

Cotton looked confused a moment before peering at her own flank. Then she chuckled. "Oh! I'm also a pretty good cook, or so all the workers tell me. I guess all those times I snuck into Full Kettle's kitchen paid off!"

"I'm surprised you're not a cook or something, then. Put that talent to use."

"Oh?" Cotton pointed a hoof to Meadow's flank. "If that's so, how come you're helping ponies, instead of going off compass-ing?"

Meadow glanced down, considering it a moment. "Well... I guess I'm trying to do both."

"Exactly," Cotton said with a smug grin, folding her forelegs in satisfaction. "I've got a good, fun job that's helping to do something important, and I get to indulge in my own hobbies as well. Just because cooking is my talent, that doesn't mean that's the only thing I can do."

"I guess that's true," Meadow said. And I suppose ponies should know better about this cutie mark nonsense than a changeling, anyway. "Sounds like this has come up before?"

Cotton just waved a hoof. "Oh, a few times. There are still a few ponies out there that think a pony should only hold a job that matches their cutie mark, and nothing else. I've found it's best to just ignore them."

"I guess that works for me, too," Spark said quietly. "Airships don't really have much machinery. At least, not like my own project does."

"Yeah, see?" Cotton said, gesturing to Spark. "Anyway, I doubt you two came all the way out here just to hear about what I do for a living. You came for the celebration!"

"And who better to help out with that than somepony who lives here?" Spark said with a grin.

"I spend a lot more time out at worksites than I do in Canterlot," Cotton said, "But I'm pretty sure I know enough to show you some highlights. And hey, we know a guard! Maybe TC can get us into the castle someday to look around."

Meadow's eyes widened slightly, despite herself. Getting into the castle of the Equestrian government? Now that sounds like an accomplishment worthy of an Infiltrator!

Thunder smirked a little. "Well, seeing as much of the castle is open to the public, I suppose I might be able to do that..."

Or not. Seriously, do these ponies not have any sense for security?

"See?" Cotton said. "Perfect! And there are lots of Summer Sun Celebration parties going on all night tomorrow, and I know where they all are. We can make this the best celebration ever!" She said this with quite a bit of energy, throwing up her hooves for emphasis. It drew a few dirty looks from the more uptight patrons, and a few chuckles from other ponies who had also come to the city for the celebration.

Thunder Chaser grunted softly. "I wish I could join you on that, but I'll be on-duty through the celebration."

"Aw!" Cotton pouted. "Well, that sucks. I was wanting to hang out with you some."

"We've got tonight," Thunder replied. "And I'll have two days off after the celebration, so hopefully I'll get to see you some more."

"Well at least we'll see some of you," Cotton said, then paused to tap her chin. "Hmm... though if that's the case, we should go to the castle today so you can show us around!"

Thunder rolled his eyes, despite the smirk on his face. "Oh, I'll see what I can do..."

An hour later, Meadow found herself inside Canterlot Castle.

Simply calling the place "opulent" would have undersold it greatly. Calling it a castle was probably underselling it, for that matter. While the place could serve well as a military fortification, the interior was more of a huge palace. The motif of white stone and gold accents carried through there as well, but the palace managed to refine that theme to be something even grander than the city outside. Polished marble floors were lined with rich red carpets, grand pillars supported arches the crossed the vaulted ceiling far above, and giant windows let the sun in to illuminate the interior. Many ponies wandered about, busy at work. Guards stood at key points, each bearing a serious, unwavering expression.

Thunder was taking the role of tour-guide well enough, describing the various locations they passed through. There were the gardens, practically a small, sculptured forest inside the castle walls. There were the huge hallways leading to various chambers, ballrooms, and other public spaces. They even got to peek into the throne room, where Celestia was holding court.

Spark spent half the time gaping in awe. The other half of the time he remembered he had a camera, and quickly snapped off a few shots before he was taken in by the grandeur of the place and again forgot about it. He even got a picture of Celestia, which earned him a glance from a nearby guard, but they hadn't stopped him. Meadow again noted the surprisingly lax security.

As for Meadow, she spent her time memorizing every single detail of the place, and every single word Thunder said. Her thoughts were torn.

First, the extravagance of the palace, while beautiful, was also disgusting to her. So much work spent on beautifying this one place, which could have been spent on more practical matters. But then, with so many ponies and such a grand scale of industry, how much effort had it really cost them?

Second, security was disturbingly weak. If she were to wish to infiltrate the castle, it would be trivial. If she wanted to cause some damage, nothing could stop her. But most importantly, if she wished to acquire any information, any knowledge, any secrets that could be used against Equestria, these ponies wouldn't even know that their security had been compromised. This was the greatest threat to her hive? A few skilled infiltrators could bring this whole kingdom to its knees. Was this really all there was, or was there something lurking behind all of this, unseen?

And third, despite the lax security, there were entirely too many guards for her comfort. They might have no idea that a predator walked among them, but that didn't make their presence any more pleasant to Meadow. While skilled infiltrators could manipulate the kingdom with ease, the Guard was a deadly threat. If their kingdom was threatened, these guardians would let nothing stand in the way of destroying the hive. Meadow knew what they were. They are the enemy. Killers.

Each time her thoughts reached that point, she glanced over to Thunder Chaser.

...Aren't they?

"...And so the whole thing tipped over," Cotton said, struggling to contain her laughter as she tilted her hooves to the side in pantomime. "Dumps the whole crew of the workers into the lake! And the whole time, Plumb Line is still just standing there, holding that survey stick straight out with this lost expression on his face, like he just can't understand how it all went wrong. He's still standing there when the crew climbs up the embankment and throw him in the lake!"

They all shared a laugh, kicked back on the couch and chairs in the main room of Cotton Candy's apartment. It was rather cluttered, but it had a kind of cozy and comfy feel to it. After the castle, Cotton had insisted they come home to hang out with "good food and good company," and so they were now gathered around with some simple snacks, sharing various tales of their lives.

Normally, it was the kind of thing that Meadow would excel at. At the moment, however, her laughter was somewhat forced. Her mind was racing, trying to make sense of things, leaving her unable to focus on her act. That she had to even think on her acting was bad enough; such a casual encounter was normally enjoyable enough on its own that she could just relax and go with the flow, so long as she policed her more un-pony-like thoughts. She'd even go so far as to say it was somewhat fun, usually.

But right then, it was not. Every time she started to feel like she could relax, something would draw her attention to Thunder Chaser, and the thoughts would start up again. Where normally she could simply let herself go with the flow, essentially losing herself in her counterfeit persona, she found herself unable to do so with him sitting there. He wasn't wearing that golden armor, but he might as well. He was one of the Guard, and a constant reminder to her that Meadow wasn't really Meadow. She was a fake, a lie. She was the sort of thing that he was supposed to protect against.

Even that shouldn't matter, she knew. She had dealt with guards and officials, and it had always been a simple matter. What was different now?

What was different was that she knew him.

As simple as that was, she found it profoundly disturbing, and the root of her unrest. For every other guard, matters were clear and simple: they were some metaphorically faceless enemy, the merciless military arm of a large and powerful nation. But she knew Thunder Chaser. He seemed every bit as bright in spirit and soft in heart as any other pony.

Thunder was speaking now, relating a story from his training, joking about the antics the recruits got up to, with himself right in the middle of all of it. This wasn't some emotionless, cold-blooded warrior. She couldn't even imagine him ever killing someone. Maybe if it were dire circumstances, where the safety of other ponies was concerned, but she still had a hard time picturing it.

Even then, it wasn't the knowledge that a member of the guard might be just a normal pony that caused the conflict in her mind. If anything, that would be comforting, knowing just how weak and easily manipulated Equestria's guardians could be.

No, what disturbed her was that she knew him, and that familiarity was swaying her opinion. He was a member of a group that was the most direct personification of all the threats to the hive, and even though she felt the urge to simply file him away as "the enemy," she was reluctant to do so. Her mind kept trying to find excuses to differentiate him from all the other Royal Guards, instead.

And in a few quiet moments when she was able to clear her mind of those thoughts, she instead questioned if he'd extend the same consideration to her--her real self, that is. Would he be swayed by his familiarity, or would he see her as "the enemy" just as the other guards would?

She shuddered slightly that she would even think of such a thing, banishing those thoughts from her mind.

No longer distracted by her own thoughts, she noticed the faint hints of... concern? Suspicion? Abruptly, she realized she had been sitting silently through the story, rather than laughing along with the ponies around her. She had made herself seem completely out-of-place and was clearly making them uncomfortable.

Quickly scrambling for an excuse, Meadow looked to Cotton Candy. "D-do you have a bathroom?"

"Yeah, just down the hall on the right," Cotton said, pointing with a hoof. Her smile didn't entirely hide the look of concern and unease.

Meadow quickly rose and trotted to the bathroom, shutting the door and letting out a deep sigh. She needed the break, a few moments to collect her thoughts. Acting along was normally easy, but the mental turmoil was surprisingly draining. She felt weary, strained. Moving to the sink, she leaned on it, drawing in slow, deep breaths. In the mirror above the sink, her reflection looked just as worn and exhausted as she felt.

She stared in silence for several seconds, then glanced back at the door.

In normal circumstances, she would never take such a risk. Right now, however, she felt it needed to be done.

Stepping back, she placed a hoof on the floor, pressed up against the door. It wouldn't stop a determined pony from forcing their way in, but it would delay a curious one long enough for her purposes.

With a surge of green flame, Meadow Song was stripped away, leaving Nictis to stare back at his own reflection. He saw himself properly: a weary changeling, slouched with mental fatigue. A lone, lost changeling that had, for just a moment, wandered from the path. A changeling whose eyes slowly narrowed into a glare.

His breathing calmed. His head slowly rose, his posture growing more strong and confident. Slowly, he let the worry and doubt fade away, staring at the physical reminder of the truth.

That Thunder Chaser was a guard did not matter. What mattered was that he was a pony. He was a pony that Nictis knew, that he could make use of. Anything else was secondary at best. In that manner, he was no different than Spark Wheel, or Cotton Candy, or any other pony he had befriended in his guise. There was no need to stress out about his employment, particularly not for any reason so petty as personal familiarity. It was simply another opportunity. A friend in the Royal Guard could be a very useful asset.

Slowly, a smug smile grew. The reflection in the mirror no longer looked like that lost, weary changeling. What stared back at him now was a proud, confident changeling, the ideal image of an Infiltrator--standing tall and undisguised, and yet, in complete safety there in the heart of Canterlot.

A flash of fire restored his disguise, the reflection replaced with a confidently smiling unicorn.

With a silent nod of approval, Meadow Song left the bathroom. She walked quietly back down the hall, pausing near the end to plan how to recover from her earlier... distraction. As she did, she listened in on the conversation, which had taken a slightly hushed tone.

"No, I'm sure it's not you," Spark was saying, sounding both uncomfortable and reluctant. "She just... I think it's something about the Guard, not you."

Meadow frowned. Her behavior had evidently been more out-of-place than she had imagined for the topic to have gone to that.

Thunder Chaser had muttered something, to which Spark replied, "No, really. We went to this museum, and there was an entire section on the Royal Guard through history. She got really quiet, like it made her uncomfortable." His voice was quiet and hesitant, and even as distressed as she was at the topic, she felt a bit of pride at how reluctant he was to say anything somewhat critical of her. "I don't know exactly why, but I guess she just has some sort of issue with the Guard."

She took that as her cue to step in. "It's not that," she said softly. All three ponies in the room jumped slightly at her return, with both Spark and Thunder Chaser looking somewhat embarrassed at being caught. She hesitated only a moment. She needed a good story; what kind of pony would be so uncomfortable with their own guardians? But she only needed a moment. With her mind refocused, it was a trivial matter to come up with a passable excuse. After all, ponies were easy.

"I mean, not exactly," she said, letting her ears droop a bit. "The Guard is fine. Actually, I really respect you guys for what you do. It's just..." She shuffled her hooves a little, looking quite convincingly awkward even as she metered every movement and word. "Well, it's bad enough to know that there's enough danger to need the Guard, that there are all these tools for fighting and killing, and that they're needed. And then I get to worrying." She looked up, straight at Thunder Chaser. "We put a tiny number of ponies at so much more risk, just so all the rest can relax in peace, never even knowing how dangerous the world can be."

Silence held for a moment as Thunder Chaser stared back. She could feel surprise, but also a slowly growing amusement. "Really? You're worried about me?"

"N-no," she replied, then rubbed nervously at the back of her head. "...Kind of."

He smiled, a sense of relief coming from the young stallion. "Heh, don't worry Meadow. I'm not going to go off and get myself hurt or killed. Equestria hasn't been at war in forever, and even when some weird monster comes out of the wilderness, it's rare for anypony to be badly hurt. Hay, I'm probably in more danger playing hoofball at the barracks than I am on duty. I'll be fine. We all will." He chuckled softly, giving a flippant shrug of his wings. "And you know, even if I do get hurt or killed, it'd still be totally worth it."

Meadow raised an eyebrow in a questioning look. "Really?"

"Well, yeah," he replied casually. "Actually, I'm kind of surprised you'd be so worried about that. You've done similar things, haven't you?"

She drew her head back, genuinely surprised by that. "What? I have?"

"I mean dangerous things," he quickly clarified. "Probably more dangerous than being in the Guard, even. Didn't you almost get killed out in the woods a second time?"

"Oh." She'd given a brief summary of what she had been up to, but they hadn't pressed for details--likely because of her somewhat distant behavior that night. "Well, I guess so, but..."

She trailed off, unable to come up with a good "but".

Thunder grinned. "Heh, yeah. And hey, this way I get to help ponies, too!" He hesitated a moment, then shrugged his wings again. "Actually, Meadow, you're kind of the reason I joined the Royal Guard."

She blinked, caught off-guard by that. "What? How?"

"Well... it's kind of a long story." He glanced around at the small gathering. "But I guess we're all here telling stories anyway?"

Meadow hesitated a moment, then gave a little smile and a nod. Resuming her place on the couch beside Spark, she listened as Thunder Chaser told his tale.

"Okay, so when I got adopted, everything changed. I was in a new place, no friends, only the folks that adopted me, and they were still complete strangers. I felt so out of place. Not that it was really a new experience, it was like that when I got to the orphanage, too, but it was kind of jarring, you know? And it didn't help that I was practically the only pegasus around."

"Anyway, I had to go to school, and there were a bunch of kids there I didn't know. And there were a couple older colts that were kind of bullies, like Big Shot. So that made me think of the orphanage."

"I... I know I never said so, but I always looked up to you. You were always helping everypony out. You were somepony we could all respect. I might not have been brainy enough to help out with tutoring or anything like that, but a bully? I figured yeah, that's something I could handle. So I tried to be friendly to all the other kids, and when those guys started bugging somepony, I'd step in and butt heads with them."

He hesitated a moment, then smirked. "Almost literally. I'm not so good at being all wordy like you are. Wait, no, it was literal once. But he did kick me first, so I think it was fair."

A few soft chuckles sounded before he resumed his story. "So yeah, I kept stepping in every time the bullies tried to do something. It felt good, like I was actually helping out. Got in a few fights, too, but I never started one... even though I really, really wanted to, at times.

"I guess I got kinda popular. I never really had any best-friends, but I didn't mind too much. Most of the ponies liked me well enough, and I was mostly happy. Still, I just felt like something was missing, like there should be more.

"So then one day when we were on a campout, one of the other colts, Whisper, went for a walk. Somehow he came across a bear, and nopony knows why, but it was just enraged. Complete berserk rage. We all hear him screaming as he tried to get away from the bear. Everypony scrambled to get there and help, but you know, I'm the only pegasus there. The others have to go through all the thick brush, but I just zip right over it, and soon I see the bear getting ready to clobber the kid. So I dive right on in and slam my hooves right down on the top of its skull."

Thunder smacked his hooves together for emphasis, then lounged back in the couch with an awkward smile. "So yeah, apparently you can make a raging bear even more angry. Like, frothing-spittle, bloodshot-eyes angry. Thing nearly took my head off. I jump back just in time and gain some elevation, but the bear must have looked at me like I was an annoying fly. As soon as I was out of reach, it focused on Whisper again. He had to pick his way through the brush, but that bear just tore straight through it. So I went in again, trying to distract it."

He slapped a hoof on the side of his right thigh. "First pass I make, the bear snaps around and nearly took my leg off. You could see the bone and everything." Both Spark and Cotton winced. "I never thought I'd see something that big move that quick, but it did. I'm still not sure how I didn't crash right away. It's like I was kind of distant from it all. I could tell it hurt, but it just... I guess it didn't matter right then? I don't know. I just kept harassing the bear until all the other ponies got there, and then it finally left. Guess it didn't want to deal with a bunch of angry unicorns.

"Aaand about then is when the pain finally sunk in and I crashed to the ground in front of everypony.

"But you know what? Right then, laying on the forest floor with a shattered leg, I had never been happier." He smiled. "Sure, the time in the hospital sucked. The weeks for my leg to heal sucked. But at the same time... I probably saved Whisper's life. I'd done something, something important. Something I could feel proud of. And I knew I'd be willing to do it again, and again, even if it hurt that badly every single time. If I could trade a bit of pain to keep somepony safe, I'd do it. Hay, even if it kills me, if I'm able to save even one other life, it's worth it. Totally worth it."

He shrugged again. "Though I think half the ponies there at the scene thought I'd gone into shock or something. I guess it creeped a few of them out, the way I kept looking back at my leg and grinning. They were all fixated on my injury. But me, I barely even noticed. I was too busy looking back at my brand-new mark." He tapped his flank, and the cutie mark emblazoned upon it.

"Seeing it there made it sink in, I think. It was like, at that very moment, everything became clear. Like I realized for the first time that this was what I wanted to do. So as soon as I was out of the hospital, I started looking up information on the Guard.

"The folks that adopted me didn't like the idea so much, but I guess we never really saw eye-to-eye on much, so that wasn't much different. Soon as my leg was all healed up and back to full strength, I headed out and joined up. I've never found a place that I feel like I fit in as much as I do with the Guard."

Then he turned to face Meadow more directly. "And you know, Meadow, the rest of the Guard are the same. There are a few that join up for the pay, or for the possibility of fighting, or just because they get a glamorous uniform, but they don't tend to last long. Or at least, so I heard. I've never met one, myself. Everypony I've spoken to is there for the same reason I am. So really, don't feel bad for us. Every single one of us is right where we want to be."

Meadow sat silently for a moment before a smile crossed her face, and she offered a respectful nod in return. His reasons--the desire to help other ponies even at such possible cost to himself--was something she could respect. If what he said was true, and she had no reason to doubt his word, it put a new image of the Guard into her mind. They were not cold-blooded, merciless killers. They were passionate guardians, dedicated to protecting Equestria and its ponies. The kind who would rise to any threat, even the most deadly, with unwavering devotion. The kind who would put the safety and well-being of Equestria above even their own lives.

It was almost changeling-like.

And Meadow was torn between finding that oddly comforting and utterly terrifying.

Meadow lay silently in bed. Fatigue, both mental and physical, weighed her down. Despite that, sleep was reluctant to come. The nervous ball of energy struggling to lay still beside her was surprisingly distracting.

Quietly, she whispered, "Are you--"

"I'm fine!" came the whispered reply, much too rushed to be in any way convincing.

Meadow suppressed a sigh, rolling over to her side as if she could block out the sense of emotions coming from him. Spark was a confusing mess of excitement and nervousness, which irritated Meadow. Ponies' issues with personal space were bad enough to begin with, but of course they would then interpret sharing that personal space as having some greater significance.

Stupid ponies.

If the awkward sleeping arrangements had one benefit, it was that it made it easy for Spark--who slept little and fitfully during the night--to get a nice long nap during the day. This was done at Cotton's insistence. After all, they would be staying up all night while she took them to all the best parties.

That evening was a blur of activity. Cotton seemed to know every hot-spot in Canterlot and was eager to show them all off. The eager pink unicorn cheerfully led them to a half-dozen nightclubs and many smaller parties. Meadow was quite familiar and even comfortable with such places, but Spark was a bit out of his depth. He was rather slow to get caught up in the fun, but after much encouragement--and a well-calculated hip-bump from Meadow--he started to loosen up. He was a horrible dancer, but with Meadow and Cotton joining in, he was soon allowing enthusiasm to make up for what he lacked in skill.

Although the way Cotton brushed up against her a few times was a bit distracting. Perhaps even concerning. Meadow found it somewhat odd; the way she smiled, her mannerisms, even the way she encouraged a bit more physical contact than was necessary seemed somewhat flirtatious. It was even more troubling to Meadow that she couldn't tell plainly from Cotton's emotions. She was happy and excited, but Meadow couldn't tell for sure if she felt so because she was flirting, or simply because she was there having a good time with friends.

Even more curious was how those possibly-flirtatious moments mostly stopped once Meadow had gotten Spark to open up and start dancing, but the emotions remained the same. If anything, she seemed even happier.

By the time dawn approached, the long night was starting to catch up with them. Despite the growing fatigue, the three of them were full of energy as they arrived at the broad square before the castle. The festivities all came to a momentary halt, everypony gathering around for the moment they had all come for.

The event was certainly grander than the one held in Hoofington. Royal Guards stood at attention, lining the edge of the massive stage and flanking the entrances to the courtyard. The castle grounds gave the gathering a much different atmosphere. Where the Hoofington celebration had been quite pretty and heartfelt, there was an impressive majesty to the event in Canterlot. Ponies of all ranks of life were in attendance, and in far greater numbers than the previous year.

At the same time, there was an air of formality that the Hoofington celebration didn't exactly lack, but had perhaps underplayed. The Guard was meticulous, with each member moving in well-practiced ritual. Horns sounded a great fanfare as the moment they all waited for arrived. There was no enthusiastic, slightly-informal speech by the local mayor; Celestia hardly needed an introduction here in her own home.

Despite all the differences between the past Celebration and this one, Celestia was unchanged. Her smile was every bit as warm and welcoming as Meadow remembered it, as were the feelings of happiness and pride in the ponies she saw gathered here. Her eyes scanned over the crowd, happily taking in the sight of all those happy ponies--even the one who was not actually a pony. Meadow was as good as invisible; just another happy, smiling face in the crowd, surrounded by hundreds of other excited ponies.

Not that it kept Meadow's heart from lurching when the immensely-powerful Princess's view panned across her, but she relaxed again as the gaze passed by without recognition. There was nothing to worry about, she reminded herself.

Meadow knew what was coming as soon as Celestia reared back. From the corner of her eye, Meadow watched her companion's reactions, their own eyes fixed on the rising princess. Cotton looked on with clear joy, while Spark looked thoroughly awed at the sight.

Soon the sound of cheering and stomping hooves filled the square, now lit brightly by the morning sun. As the princess descended back to the stage, Meadow smirked and reached out, nudging Spark's camera with her hoof.

Spark blinked as he looked down, confusion on his face for just a moment before realization struck. "Oh my gosh!" he blurted, snatching the camera up and, after a moment of hesitation, snapped a belated picture of Celestia, her wings still spread from her landing.

Letting the camera lower again, his ears drooped. "I can't believe I hauled this all the way out here, and then forgot to take a picture of that."

Meadow leaned into his side. "Hey, at least you saw it, and without the distraction of a camera. If you still want a picture of it, I'm sure I could buy one off somepony."

Cotton Candy chimed in, though she wasn't quite able to tear her eyes away from the Princess. "Yeah. Heck, there are some ponies that make a business out of selling pictures of the event to ponies without cameras."

"See?" Meadow said, nudging him. "Just have fun."

That brought his smile back.

The rest of the celebration went simply enough. Many ponies were greeted by the Princess; both Cotton and Spark took the time to get close and exchange greetings, though Meadow hung back, simply watching instead. She didn't want to risk recognition. Being one smiling face in the crowd was one thing, but she didn't want to find out if the Princess might recognize her as the unicorn that had caught her attention last year.

Not that she didn't think she could find a suitable excuse for her behavior, but tempting fate didn't strike her as a particularly sound plan.

Though she did find it amusing just how happy Spark looked when he returned. He seemed almost overwhelmed at having shared words with the Princess.

Finally, they made their way from the celebration, the consequences of staying up all night quickly catching up with them. Spark was dragging his hooves, swearing that next year he was going to celebrate the Summer Sun Celebration by sleeping in, since it couldn't possibly compare to seeing the main celebration in Canterlot. Cotton had lost much of her eager energy, despite her best attempts, and even Meadow had a hard time restraining her yawns.

At least the growing fatigue did provide one handy benefit: Spark was way too tired to freak out about sharing a bed with Meadow.

With the celebration over, the rest of the visit had a certain calmness to it, letting them just enjoy the time there.

Spark and Meadow took some time on their own to wander the city, taking in the sights at a leisurely pace. They visited a couple museums, some very elegant parks, a nice little restaurant, and several stores. Despite all the sights, each impressive on its own, it was a comment from Spark that caught her attention the most.

They were walking slowly along a line of old yet fancy stores, looking over the fine wares offered by them. The quality of craft was impressive, even for items that held no other interest to Meadow. They were just passing by a jewelry store when Spark paused, looking over the display.

"That's very pretty," he said, and she stopped to look at the item he indicated. It was a necklace, featuring a large ruby in an intricate silver setting.

Meadow considered it rather like most pony things she had encountered: flashy, but otherwise useless. The only appeal jewelry held was in its effects on the reactions of others. Still, she put on a smile. "It's nice."

"I've always liked rubies," he said, to which Meadow was barely able to restrain the impulse to raise her eyebrow at him. Then he added, "How about you?"

She paused, then smiled a bit more. "Oh, I don't know. I've always been more fond of emeralds," she said, inclining her head to indicate another necklace, with a smaller emerald hanging from a very fine golden chain.

He chuckled a little, turning to walk again. "Ah, right. Green. I should have guessed."

She just snickered quietly, a smug smile playing at her lips despite her efforts. She couldn't help it. It was kind of funny watching him try to be subtle and sneaky. As if she wouldn't notice the oddly out-of-place comment and guiding question. Or how he excused himself shortly afterward to find a restroom, which in turn took far longer than any reasonable biological function should take, and yet he offered no excuse or comment upon his return. Or the way he seemed particularly mindful of his right-side saddlebag, keeping it safe the whole way back to the hotel as if he were worried the slightest bump might break something.

Naturally, she wasn't surprised in the least when he presented her with a jewelry box containing a very familiar emerald pendant.

She faked it very well, however, much to his obvious delight.

As they sat in the main room of the hotel, lit by the fading evening sunlight, she admired the necklace with a smile that was mostly--but not entirely--for Spark's benefit. It was kind of pretty, after all, particularly with the sun lighting the green gem. She could certainly appreciate the skill and precision that went into making it: the cut was perfect and clean, and the golden chain was incredibly intricate. She could appreciate even more the happiness it brought Spark to see her receptive of his gift.

It must have been quite expensive, though she knew the nervousness she could feel from him when he presented the gift likely had little to do with money. Ponies seem to have developed many odd traditions due to their inability to sense the emotions of those around them. There were all sorts of social rules and expectations that served no purpose other than indicating that they felt a certain emotion. It was clumsy, but at the same time, they had to put so much more effort into their social interactions as a result. Where a changeling would be able to appraise how another felt about him quite easily, a pony had to rely on all these secondary signals. This was quite beneficial to an Infiltrator, of course, but it still made things complicated.

Gift-giving was one of those traditions, and one of those complications. Spark was dealing with their interactions half-blind, judging the situation entirely from her outward reactions, which were half-truths at best. It was like a foal stumbling around in the dark, hoping they could guess their way. Here, he wanted to express his affection for her, and so he offered her a gift in the hopes that he had judged her feelings correctly.

But when everything she did was a carefully-crafted act, he had little chance of success. As she thought on that, watching the emerald slowly turning as it dangled from the chain, she couldn't help feeling a bit of pity for him. How much harder must life be without such a vital sense of those around you? Sure, ponies had all these traditions and habits for showing their feelings on matters, but all of those could be misinterpreted, or even subverted. Some were even intentional deceptions! The whole matter was convoluted and obtuse, and must make moments like this--a genuine expression of affection toward somepony who may or may not share those feelings--a risky and worrying event.

It did make certain things easier. Seeing her approval washed away most of his worry, bringing a strong surge of happiness. Seeing her putting it on while softly expressing her delight and appreciation banished his fears entirely, joy radiating from him as clearly as the grin on his face.

The tender and "heartfelt" hug she gave him was a nice finishing touch, particularly when she held on just a moment longer than was normal to draw out a flutter of excitement from him.

On the other hoof, it made other aspects more complex. Social standards and traditions carried with them certain expectations. Sure, a gift-giver would insist that there was no need to return a gift, but that was simply a socially-expected lie. Reciprocation was expected in everything; the whole method of social behavior depended on everypony participating, or else the whole convoluted system would fail. As amusing as such things could be for an Infiltrator to contemplate--eying the weaknesses and vulnerabilities of a society at its most basic level--it also meant that these expectations were vitally important. A pony who shunned them would, in turn, be shunned by society. Such a reaction would be a significant setback to an Infiltrator.

And so, while she was not technically required to get a gift for Spark, she couldn't risk not doing so.

Despite the years that had passed since she lived in the hive, she was still more familiar with less gentle and lazy living conditions than most ponies. While Spark slept in, making up for lost sleep, Meadow woke as early as ever. She stealthily slipped out of bed, leaving him sleeping unaware. She left a quick note on the table to alleviate any worry should he wake up before she returned, and then headed out, returning to the market they had been through the previous night.

All the way, she unhappily mulled over the knowledge that she had no idea what to get him. Jewelry was out. Even if it hadn't been copying his own gift, which pony social expectations seemed to rank as undesirable, it was also one of those things that seemed to depend too greatly on one’s sex. There were some pieces that were appropriate for males, but in general, they served different social roles and carried different reactions. It was really a bit of a headache to think of.

Clothes were out, too. While a dress might make a good gift for a mare, there wasn't much that made for a good gift for a stallion. Or at least, nothing of the type Spark would wear. A suit just didn't, well, suit him. He was sensible enough to just go naked most of the time.

Which left... what? Tools? That was practical, and while Spark was fairly practical for a pony, it still didn't quite seem in the same spirit as what he got her. Now that practicality that she usually appreciated was working against her. Other than his work and spending time around her, and the occasional flight in the family airship, what interests did he really have? She couldn't very well buy an airship for him, so what else was there?

As she grumbled about this, she walked slowly by the various stores. Her eyes glanced over the items on display in the various windows on the off chance that one might catch her attention as the perfect gift, but she hardly gave them any attention. Not until she had looked away from another store, only to come to a stop and look back. She gazed in the window at the item that had caught her attention, letting a smile slowly grow across her face.

That might just work...

Unlike Spark, Meadow knew subtlety and surprise. She didn't bring out her gift at the first opportunity. She waited. They got breakfast, lazily hanging around and enjoying the morning. They'd be meeting up with Thunder Chaser and Cotton Candy for lunch so that they could all enjoy their last day in Canterlot, which left them with some idle time to kill. Meadow waited, passing time in idle conversation. She wanted her gift to be the last thing he would expect to happen.

Finally, she slipped off for a quick drink. When she came back, instead of retaking her seat, she leaned over the back of the couch Spark was sitting on, smiling down at him. "By the way, I've got something here for you," she said in a soft, faintly teasing voice as a small box floated over, shrouded in her green magic.

When he recovered from the surprise, he quickly reached out and took the box from the lingering glow of her magic. He opened it to reveal the golden disk inside. She could sense the surprise, confusion, and a little hint of uncertainty that was quickly growing into a bit of disappointment. "A watch?" he asked, looking back to her with a fair attempt at hiding his uncertainty. It was another of those silly pony social expectations: even when disappointed, he was expected to lie and try to convince her that he liked the gift. Such strange social deceptions ponies practiced.

To be fair to him, it was only a little disappointment. He seemed to appreciate that she was giving him a gift, even if he seemed a bit disappointed in what that gift was.

Despite that, Meadow simply held her smile, inclining her head toward the watch. Spark turned his attention back to it, and then did what any pony would do when given a pocket watch; he opened it.

"Oh," was his surprised reply at the same sight that initially caught Meadow's attention. With the golden cover flipped open, the entire inner workings of the watch were revealed. Behind the glass lens, only a minimal frame lay between the clock arms and the intricate collection of gears behind it. It was just enough to make the time and position of the arms clear, without obstructing the delicate mechanisms that made the whole thing work. "...Wow."

Any hint of disappointment was completely forgotten as he watched the little gears at work, a remarkably complex and compact machine. Meadow chuckled softly. "Yeah. I saw that, and for some reason it made me think of you."

Spark smiled, only to be surprised as another little package dropped onto his lap. "Huh?" he said, then snatched it up, opening the small box to reveal a collection of small, fine tools.

Meadow smirked, leaning down. "I imagine it'll be just a matter of time before you take it apart to see how it works, so I figured you might like having the tools to put it back together again, too."

"Thanks," he said, blushing faintly despite his soft laugh--and notably, not contradicting her.

"You're welcome," she replied, playfully rustling his mane.

Spark's happy mood carried through the evening. Thunder Chaser and Cotton Candy joined them for an evening not occupied by parties and sightseeing, but in simply hanging out and enjoying each other's company. They had a good lunch, played in a nearby park, and wandered about with no purpose except having fun. And it was fun, too. Even Meadow had to admit that. Cotton had a seemingly endless supply of stories, which soon left their sides sore from laughter. Thunder was energetic and active, and quite a bit more fit than most of them, as he proved when they played some impromptu games--even with him giving himself the handicap of not using his wings when they played tag.

It was nice, Meadow thought. In a way, she felt a little proud. A skilled engineer and airship builder, a member of the Royal Engineer Corps building infrastructure across Equestria, and even a Royal Guard, and she had earned their trust and affection. Every laugh was like another reminder of how well she had done. Even the touch of the emerald against her chest, tapping gently with each step, brought out a feeling of happiness.

And to tell the truth, they were actually kind of fun to be around. Far better than the average pony, that is.

Eventually, the evening started to wind down. Leaving the park and the fancy upper city, they wandered their way--joking and laughing the whole time--down to the outer rim of Canterlot. The sun was slowly making its way toward the horizon, casting a glow that was slowly turning the white-and-gold motif of the city into one simply of gold.

They stopped at a small square along the very edge of the city, where a low wall was the only things between them and a grand view of the entire valley below Canterlot. They got drinks from a nearby café and gathered at the edge, watching the sunset; Meadow, feeling a little nostalgic, got a raspberry smoothie.

The view was quite impressive from where Meadow stood. Even on their airship rides, she had rarely been quite so high up above the ground, so far below. She folded her forelegs across the wall, leaning out over the edge. To be so high while still having her hooves squarely on the ground was a bit unusual. The whole place seemed a bit unusual, really. Fascinating, even. She couldn't quite put her hoof on the feeling, as she looked out across the valley and up to the clouds, lit crimson in the light of the setting sun. It was a very pretty scene. Calming.

Click.

Meadow blinked at the sound, then turned to see Spark lowering his camera. Rather than the sunset, or the sweeping view of the world below them, he had snapped off a picture of her. He smiled nervously, like a foal caught raiding the cookie jar. She simply smiled back.

The comfortable silence that followed was broken as Cotton Candy leaned over to Thunder Chaser with a hoof to her mouth and stage-whispered, "Yeah, they're totally not a couple." That earned a short coughing fit from Thunder as he tried to conceal his chuckles behind a quick drink of his smoothie, and left both Spark and Meadow blushing.

Though Meadow was sure she had a bit more to be embarrassed by than Spark did, even if none of these ponies would understand it. She was an Infiltrator, after all, or at least the next best thing to one. She was supposed to be in control of situations like this. She wasn't supposed to just relax, to go with the flow, to unconsciously act just like one of these silly ponies rather than controlling everything in purposeful deception. She wasn't supposed to let somepony else have such influence on the social interactions and relationships she had carefully molded over so much time. She wasn't supposed to feel flattered that Spark would take her picture where he had forgotten to take Celestia's--professional pride, perhaps, but not flattery.

And she certainly wasn't supposed to actually, genuinely enjoy all of this.

Cotton Candy and Thunder Chaser both came to see them off in the morning, despite all of them having stayed up way too late in an attempt to enjoy every last minute before they were gone. Cotton made Meadow promise to write, and couldn't resist a final little tease; it was obvious how much she enjoyed making them blush, even as irritated as Meadow secretly was that Cotton was able to draw out such a reaction so easily. At least Thunder Chaser didn't join in the teasing. He did quietly chuckle quite a few times at their expense, however.

Before long, the train was away, with Spark and Meadow sharing their own private compartment. Meadow lay back beside the windows, half-asleep as she watched the terrain go by. Spark was soon sprawled out along her side, snoring faintly.

Several minutes passed by before Meadow suddenly realized that she had been there in the heart of Equestria for most of a week, and she hadn't done anything productive the entire time. She suppressed a scowl. Sure, she wasn't sure exactly what she could have done, but surely she should have done something. Certainly, more than just lazing about and having a good time.

Eventually, she sighed, letting the irritation slowly fade. I didn't really have anything planned, she reasoned. And if I ever come up with something, the city isn't going anywhere. I'll be back. And besides, it's not like they could do a thing to stop me.

With a content smile, Meadow closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep to the steady, rhythmic rocking of the train.

Several weeks had passed. After all the talk and anticipation, the time had finally come. With the end of summer came the big move; their initial payment had been made--putting a sizable but manageable dent in Meadow's expedition fund--and the time had come for Spark and Meadow to move into their new home.

Meadow stepped into the bedroom, hauling another box of belongings along in her magic. The room was still spartan as of yet, containing only several boxes, a shared dresser, and a pair of beds; Spark had insisted that she wasn't going to sleep on a couch anymore. Setting the box down, she began unloading. The dress was hung in the closet, mane-care and grooming supplies were set in a neat pile on the bed pending transfer to the bathroom, and her expedition journal took its place atop the dresser. Then she drew out a little compass.

She levitated it over, setting it down on her hoof. Spark had done an impeccable job of repairing the small device. He had cleaned and straightened it, repainted the compass rose, and replaced the lens. She couldn't even tell that it had been damaged. If anything, it looked even better than it had when she had first gotten it.

The thump of Spark's hooves drew her attention. The earth pony was hauling another box in balanced on his back, which she helped him offload with her magic.

"Thanks," he said, nudging it into place beside a few others. "Just got a couple boxes for the kitchen and we're all done."

"Good," she said with a smile, setting the compass down atop her journal. "It must be quite a relief for this to finally be happening."

"Yeah," he said, though his voice sounded a little distant. His eyes had followed her motion, landing on the journal. "I just... I'm glad you're, um, helping me out with all this, but I hope it's not disrupting your plans too much. I know you've been trying to save up for a while, now, and..."

Meadow dismissed this concern with a wave of her hoof. "Oh, don't worry about it. It'll only set me back a couple months at most, anyway. Hardly a big deal." A couple months I'd rather not have wasted, but it should all still work out...

"I hope so," Spark said. He hesitated then, silence stretching for a moment before he spoke up again. "Hey, Meadow?"

She cast him a curious glance. "Hmm?"

"When you go on your expedition, could I go with you?"

Meadow started in surprise at the request. "...What?"

"Your expedition," he repeated. "Do you think I could go with you?"

Meadow stared silently for a few seconds, the consequences of what he was asking quickly going through her mind. The ponies going along on that expedition couldn't be allowed to return; the risk to the hive was too great if they did, never mind how valuable they would be for increasing the hive's food supply. If Spark were to go with her...

"I... I don't think you'd really enjoy it," she reasoned. She reached out with her magic, picking up the journal as if to emphasize her point. "It's going to be weeks out in the forest, with poor food, poor sleep, and hard hiking all day long. It doesn't really strike me as your kind of thing."

"Well, sure," he said with a shrug. "But I'd still kinda like to go."

She stared again. "...Why?"

"Well... you spend a lot of time hanging around and watching me work, right? And you always seem to enjoy the time, even though I know mechanics aren't your kind of thing, and I know you don't really understand a lot of what I'm doing. I mean, I kinda doubt you even know what something like a transaxle is, much less the more obscure parts."

"That's the... spinny..."

"Yeah," Spark said with a smirk. "But you still come along and spend the time with me when I'm doing what I enjoy so much. I know this expedition is something you feel strongly about, and... and I'd really like to be able to go along, to see what you enjoy so much. A few weeks in the forest sounds like a good trade-off for that."

"But..." She swallowed, mouth having gone dry. "You know, it's dangerous. I mean, look at my luck so far with the Everfree..."

"Well, sure. Kind of like it's dangerous to go flying in the clouds as an earth pony." He nudged her in the side. "Or a unicorn. But you're going off anyway, and you've done well over a year of planning since your last outing. Besides..." He grinned at her. "I trust you."

Meadow almost winced at that. Almost. "Spark..."

She could feel his resolve waver when she spoke his name, along with that bitter taste rising in his emotions with the disappointment at the realization that she was going to say no. It was such a simple request that denying it must have felt like an outright rejection. She could quite literally feel the pain that threatened to come out as he spoke again.

"Please?"

Meadow's stomach churned in anxiety, though she hid it well. After a moment of conflict, she put on a warm smile. "Of course," she said with as much warmth as she could manage, earning a happy surge of relief from Spark. "I just wanted to make sure you know what you're getting into."

Spark happily assured her that he was fine with that, and she put on her best act of being happy that he would want to come along. Her smile held until he left to finish moving in their belongings--then the act dropped away. Her legs trembled as she sank down to her haunches on the side of the bed. Her magic winked out as she took the journal in her hooves.

Alone, silent except for her unsteady breathing, she sat and stared vacantly at the little book that held her future.

Chapter 15: In Darkness

Chapter 15: In Darkness

Objectively, it should have been a good day. Meadow knew that, yet it didn't help. Everything just felt so... bland, as if the world and all the emotions around her had lost their flavor. She was well fed by the gratitude of those she helped. She had even gotten an extra-large helping of sympathy from Charity. That mare was one of the most soft-hearted of ponies--quite an accomplishment, Meadow dully thought--and the amount of emotion she put into everything she did was impressive. Despite that, the taste seemed muted and dull to her. She gathered it in and fed on it all the same, sating her hunger. It was a mechanical process, and nothing more.

Charity had again asked her if something was wrong. Meadow had come up with a half-hearted excuse about just having an off-day. At another time, she might have enjoyed how it kept those feelings of sympathy flowing strongly; her "off-day" had been stretching on for a couple months, and this was not the first time Charity had asked. That is, she might have enjoyed it if it had been an intentional act. Instead, it was a reminder of her own failures. For one, she was letting her own emotions show far too clearly to the ponies around her. Her act was failing.

Though that was only the surface of the real issue.

Meadow trudged home in silence, fallen leaves crunching slightly under her hooves, but she paid them no mind. Actually, she tried to think as little as possible. Whenever she thought, she tended to analyze things, following thoughts and ideas to their conclusion, and she wanted to avoid that right now. It was simpler to just go with the routine.

The routine was safety, in a way. She could just shut everything out and continue on, without worrying about reacting... poorly. She didn't quite remember what Bigs had said in those first few days. It had been some snarky comment about Spark, something about wondering if her bad mood was because he had figured out how bad of a pony she was. All she remembered was that she had been livid, and was halfway into winding up to punch him before restraining herself.

With the routine, the simple, mechanical rote behavior of day-to-day life, it was easier to ignore the increasingly volatile feelings. She could continue on, another drone dedicated to its task without concern for its own well-being. It should have been enough, but it wasn't.

She had originally thought of the house as kind of cute, as far as pony buildings went, and had even been happy on moving in to think that it was, in part, hers. Now she hardly paid it any attention as she turned off the road and approached the door.

Stepping inside, she saw Spark kicked back on the couch, reading. He looked over with a small but hopeful smile. "Hey."

"Hey," she replied in greeting, and continued on into the kitchen. She tried to ignore the feelings of concern and disappointment from him. As usual, it didn't work.

Out of sight in the kitchen, she let out a slow sigh before going to the fridge. Opening it, she stared at the contents for several moments, every one of them bringing up the same feeling of apathy. In the end, she levitated out an apple. She didn't feel like spending the time and effort to prepare anything, so it would do. She sat, and then proceeded to stare at the apple, slowly turning it over in her magic.

As hard as she tried, she couldn't just shut off her mind and go on. It would have been simpler that way. Better. She could get on with what needed to be done, without...

She shook her head and quickly took a bite of the apple, as if in the vain hope that the activity would shake off the coming thoughts. It didn't help.

I am the most pathetic changeling ever.

It didn't even feel like a worry anymore. It felt like an established fact, beyond any question or doubt. It was perfectly reasonable, too. A proper changeling's duty was clear: she should return to the hive, to contribute to the prosperity of all her siblings. Instead, she couldn't help but think of what would be waiting for her.

She had been replaced. Again, it wasn't just a fear, it was a certainty. The hive was efficient. They would have expended some effort to find the Princess and the Infiltrators-in-training when they didn't return, right up until that search would take more effort than training their replacements. It would have been a few weeks or months at most. Not years. The hive would have its Infiltrators. When she returned, what would there be for her? Some menial position maintaining the hive or harvesting fungus? How could she bear to be relegated to such dull and lifeless tasks after having nearly been an Infiltrator, after having experienced that way for years?

There wasn't anything for her. She would return to the hive, to work in tedium for the rest of her life. The work would be to support the whole hive, but it was work even the most dim-witted of drones could do--and after all this time, surely a few extra eggs had been laid to make up for the small losses. Without question, she had been replaced.

I have no purpose.

The thought came as it always had over the past couple of months, leaving her feeling empty and lost. She wanted to cling to the hope that maybe, just maybe, she might be allowed to become a true Infiltrator. She had some experience and had hidden among the ponies without detection for so long. A part of her wanted to imagine that it would be enough, but she knew better.

They wouldn't want an Infiltrator that's as selfish as I've become, she thought. One that's so worried about their own comfort instead of the well-being of the hive. She glanced up at the wall of the kitchen, picturing the pony sitting in the room beyond it. One who's weak enough to feel sympathy for their prey...

She shook her head again, taking another tasteless bite. A familiar irritation grew on her cheek, and she brushed a hoof against it. As it had many times in the past weeks, the hoof came away slightly dampened.

...Stupid ponies.

In the dullness, days blended together. It was a bland and mechanical routine: wake, eat, work, return, eat, halfhearted socializing, sleep. Work was a struggle now, trying to force herself to stay active and friendly. It had been so casual and easy before, but she was finding it increasingly draining to keep up the act when she felt so dull and lethargic. It still kept her well-fed, but that was about it. Bigs didn't even bother her anymore. He likely realized that there was nothing he could do to make her feel any worse than she already did.

Again, she found herself returning home after a long day of pretending--increasingly poorly--to be a friendly, helpful pony. Again, she opened the door to find Spark reading from another book. Again, they exchanged their routine greetings.

"Hey," she said wearily.

"Hey," he answered. A feeling of concern and hope came from him as he watched her trudge off to the kitchen, his smile tiny and fragile.

Again, she went to the fridge and looked inside, and again, she settled on an apple.

Turning back to the table, the routine was abruptly interrupted. Sitting on the table, where she normally sat, was a bouquet of a few roses, with a small note that simply read, "For you."

Meadow imagined that most ponies in the same situation would feel happy, if possibly a bit bittersweet, at the gesture, an attempt to comfort her when she felt down.

Instead, she gritted her teeth, body tensing.

He is the cause of all of this.

She glared down at the flowers. I should be going home and dragging him along with me. There shouldn't even be any question of it, no hesitation. Instead, I'm delaying and worrying about it, all for... for a damn pony!

Her glare turned to the familiar wall, as if staring right through it to the pony beyond it. Her limbs trembled faintly, her breathing quickening as her anger built. It's all your fault, she thought accusingly. It should all be so simple, and then you had to go and mess everything up! If you'd just know your place, none of this would have happened. But no, you had to ruin me, didn't you? You had to keep trying to please and comfort me until I got accustomed to it, until I wanted it...

I hate how weak you've made me. I hate you. You are food, nothing more. I hate you! You weak, soft, pathetic, simple-minded, s-stupid... stupid...

She faltered, expression falling. Her head drooped, her ears falling flat. Despite her best effort, the anger fled as quickly as it came. Her gaze drifted aimlessly for a moment, before falling on the note again.

For you.

She trembled faintly, sinking down into the chair. She raised a hoof, reaching out to gently trace it along the note. It was a pointless gesture--a very "pony" sort of thing--but there was something comforting about it.

She ignored the familiar sensation building on her cheeks.

As much as she wanted to not admit it, it was impossible to avoid. She did appreciate the gesture. It wasn't enough to make her truly happy, not with everything she had to deal with, but it was still some comfort. It made her feel just the slightest bit better--even if she instinctively loathed the reason why.

She cared about how he felt.

To pass it off as professional pride felt like a delusion. There was no professional pride because there was no profession. She wasn't an Infiltrator. She never would be. Sure, she could take some pride in being skilled enough to manipulate ponies' emotions, but that felt like a hollow excuse. She had learned to evaluate the cause and effect of those emotions, and couldn't help but turn that skill on herself. It was plain to see now that her own happiness was so much affected by his. Even the excuse of it being related to the energy she fed off of was a weak one. She was quite well-fed, far more than she needed to survive; her reaction to his emotions was clearly out-of-proportion to the amount of food she got from them.

Somewhere, somehow, she had begun to feel sympathy for him. For her prey.

And now, she worried about losing him.

She should return home, she knew. She would. Even if she were relegated to the most degrading and simple-minded of tasks, she could handle that. It would be with regret and reluctance, shameful enough for a changeling to be feeling toward their duty, but she could handle that if it gave her purpose. If she did return, however, it would have other problems, and not the sort that should concern a proper changeling.

If Spark accompanied her on the trip, he couldn't be allowed to return to Equestria. He'd be taken and put in a cocoon to feed the hive. He'd live, but only in the most technical of senses. He'd never wake, never speak. He would be gone. She briefly started to consider the other, unknown ponies that she would be bringing along, but quickly forced the thought from her head. It was bad enough feeling sympathy toward a single pony, she didn't want to encourage it for others.

If she kept him from coming with her, then he would still be free, but just as lost to her. Most likely, she would never leave the hive again. In the unlikely event that her experience and the ponies she brings as food--don't think on it, don't think on it--convinced the Queen to take the chance of letting her serve as an Infiltrator, there wouldn't be much to return to. Refusing Spark would likely wreck his feelings toward her; he knew that it was something important to her--cutie-mark important, even, thanks to her chosen design--and he wanted to be a part of that. To deny him would be to say that she didn't consider him worthy enough to be a part of something important to her. It would crush that ever-growing affection he held for her. It would hurt him, and Meadow sank a bit lower in her chair at how much that thought weighed with her.

On the other hoof... if she refused him, he would at least live on. He wouldn't be cocooned up, as good as dead. He'd be hurt, and who knows how much worse he would feel if she never came back. But he'd be alive and safe. That was some small comfort.

Though the fact that she could find any comfort in his continued freedom weighed guiltily in her mind.

"...Most. Pathetic. Changeling..."

With a sigh, she slumped down, resting her head atop the table.

"Are you all right?"

Meadow opened her eyes to see Spark standing in the doorway of the kitchen, looking at her. Silence held for a few moments before her brain caught up with the situation. She lifted her head from the table to sit up, a couple rose petals--all that remained of the bouquet--falling back to the table. "I, uh... I'm just having an off day."

It was a weak excuse, and Spark obviously thought so, too. "It's been weeks." The concern she felt from him was simultaneously comforting and depressing. A little voice in the back of her mind started shouting that she should be angry with him, but it was drowned out behind the other thoughts.

"I didn't think it was that obvious," she murmured, eyes dropping to the table and the flower stems laid atop it.

Spark's hooves clopped softly against the kitchen floor as he stepped up to the table. "Are you ever going to tell me what's wrong?"

Her eyes dropped, not focusing on anything in particular as she stared right through the table. She had no idea how to reply. Something had to be said, but she was at a loss as to what that should be. The truth was clearly out. The weak excuses she had been giving could only go so far and weren't going to satisfy anypony for long. A more complex lie would need serious thought to make it convincing, more than she could muster at the moment.

As the silence dragged on, she heard Spark's faint sigh, noticing the faint weakening of his stance as he realized no answer was coming. The soft wisps of disappointment held a bitter sting. She closed her eyes to mask the faint wince. Still, she couldn't decide on what to do. Once again, she felt lost and alone, a solitary drone lost far from home.

Opening her eyes, she looked over to Spark. An uneasy feeling built in her gut as she considered him. He looked back, hopefully.

Why not? I've already sunk this far, what's a little more?

"...Spark?"

His ears perked up, growing more hopeful. "Yes?"

She struggled for a few moments before finally managing to form words. "What do you think is more important? Your responsibilities, or your desires?" I can't believe I'm seriously asking a pony for advice.

Spark, however, just blinked. "What?"

Meadow let out a slow sigh, trying to find the way to word what she meant without sharing any of the details that had to remain secret. She raised a hoof. "Say you have a responsibility, a duty that you're expected to fulfill." She raised another hoof. "But there's also something that you want to do, your... dreams and desires. And they're mutually exclusive. You can't have both. Which is more important?"

Spark looked incredibly uncomfortable, despite his attempts to hide it. No doubt, he disliked the sound of such a serious question, and the implications such an unexpected question may have. "I, uh... I don't know. That's kind of vague. What kind of dreams? And, um, responsibilities?"

Hesitantly, Meadow replied. "Just... in general. Assuming both are fairly important."

"Well." Spark reached up, scratching at his mane. "I'm not sure. After all, responsibilities are important. We wouldn't really get anywhere if everypony shirked their responsibilities, and I guess there are certainly things that really need to be done. But at the same time, dreams are important, too. It'd be a pretty sad world where nopony achieves their dreams. If their duty is getting in the way of reaching their dreams, maybe somepony else should take up that duty so they can find something that doesn't force them into such a bad choice."

He paused a moment before continuing. "I don't know. That seems like something that's way too situational. Could you... could you tell me what you had in mind?"

"I... it's... just hypothetical."

Spark frowned at the obvious lie, and Meadow had to turn away. She knew he'd be hurt that she lied to him, but it was still better than telling the truth.

"...I don't know, Meadow. I know it sounds stupidly sappy, but I guess the best advice I could give is to listen to your heart and do what seems right. You're a good pony. I think whatever it is, you'll do the right thing."

Slowly, Meadow turned back to him and gave a weak smile. "Thanks, Spark." I can't believe I expected that to help...

Still, as time went on, she mulled over everything he had said. It felt like the right answer was there, just out of her reach.

For a time, that had been it. Spark, whether he was hurt by her apparent lack of trust in not telling him what was bothering her, or if he was simply giving her time to think, didn't press the matter. Meadow continued to spend most of her time lost in thought, which was split between self-recrimination and helplessly trying to figure out a bad situation. It seemed like it should be such an easy decision: she would leave Spark behind to live on, while she returned to the hive.

But at the same time, it felt so wrong.

As such, the dull, listless routine held.

Such a thing couldn't last forever. Meadow might be used to carrying on, enduring whatever hardships might come, but Spark was not. Even past her own doubts and worries, she had noticed it weighing more heavily on him as time passed.

His silence finally broke on Hearth's Warming Eve, as they returned from dinner with his family. It was chilly, the world covered in a soft blanket of snow. The ideal winter holiday weather, by pony standards. They had walked almost halfway home in silence before Spark broke it.

"Meadow, what's going on with you?"

She blinked, almost staggering in mid-step before glancing over to him. When she spoke, her voice was quiet. "What do you mean?"

"I mean..." he grunted a little, snow crunching softly under hoof as they continued on. "I mean, you just spent an entire evening with my family, who were doing their best to be cheerful and happy, and you barely even cracked a smile. You were always so cheery and talkative, but tonight it's like you were sucking all the fun out of the room. I know something is bothering you, but you're just... bottling up."

Still walking, he turned his head to fix her with a stare. "So just tell me what's wrong, already."

She stared back. A part of her was surprised to hear him so assertive. How long had that been building? Still, she opened her mouth... and couldn't find the words to say. She tried again, mouth moving a few times as she tried to force herself to say something, anything, but nothing came out. Her head drooped, eyes turning down to the snowy street as they continued on. Some Infiltrator I am, completely lost for words...

"It's about your expedition, isn't it?"

That brought her head up, looking back to him. He seemed sadder than he was just a moment ago. Her reply came quickly, this time. "Why do you say that?" It had come out without thinking, and she immediately regretted the words. She should have denied it. Instead, she had confirmed it.

"I'm not stupid, Meadow." There was no malice to the words, but Meadow winced all the same. "You've been quiet and sullen since we moved into the house. You seemed to like the house just fine, which means it's probably something else. Clearly, it's something important, and the only thing I can think of happening around then was me convincing you to let me come along."

Meadow said nothing.

"...That's it, isn't it?" Spark said. "You don't want me to come with you."

Her expression fell. "I... it's dangerous. I don't want you to get hurt..."

"I know it's dangerous!" he replied. "Again, I'm not stupid. I remember all the stories you've told of the place, and you're more experienced at dealing with stuff like that than I am. I didn't ask to come because I didn't know it was dangerous. I asked to come because I wanted to, despite that. I wanted to go and be with you, even if it's dangerous. You..."

She could see his jaw tensing, feel the faint irritation and desperation rising from him. He was keeping the feeling in check--he clearly didn't want to be upset with her--but she sensed it all the same. "...You always are trying to help everypony, to keep everypony happy and safe. But you can't keep ponies from doing what they desire just because it's dangerous and you feel like you have some responsibility to protect them."

Meadow flinched again at his words--her own words, in a way, turned against her. Her gaze again fell to her hooves, her throat feeling strangely tight. They walked on in silence, passing house after house, each cheerfully decorated for the season.

It was Spark who once again broke the silence. He let out a nearly silent sigh, ears lowering slightly. "If it's bothering you so much, I'll stay behind." When she gave a questioning glance, he asked, "Would that make you feel better?"

Again, she struggled to force herself to speak, made even harder by the growing tightness in her throat. Eventually, she managed to murmur her reply. "...Yes."

Spark tried to hide his reaction, but Meadow felt the full force of his emotion. "...Okay." He swallowed, blinking a couple times, and doing his best to act as if it was fine.

His best wasn't very good.

He continued on. "I'm sorry. I didn't... I didn't mean to cause so much of a problem for you. I would have liked to come with you, but... but I'd like to see you happy again even more..."

Meadow didn't reply. With how tight her throat felt, she wasn't sure if she could. She'd just told him that she didn't want him to be involved in an important part of her life, stepped all over his feelings, and still, he wanted for her to be happy. There was a bittersweet pleasantness to it. More bitter than sweet, at the moment, but there all the same. Even as ashamed as it made her feel, there was something nice about having him genuinely care for her.

It's for the best, she thought sadly. The best solution for a horrible situation. I have to find my way home, and this way... it'll hurt, but at least he'll be safe. She ignored the lingering feelings of shame that she should even care about a pony. He wasn't just any pony, she reasoned. He was different, after all. He was one of the few ponies that she could, in some ways, actually respect. One of the very few that she actually... liked.

I just wish there were some way I didn't have to lose him. But the only way that could happen would be if I don't--

She staggered as her thoughts came to a crashing halt. Spark cast a slightly worried glance at her, but he must have decided she had just slipped in the snow when she said nothing. She did her best to keep her expression calm despite the way her heart pounded hard in her chest, the acidic tinge of adrenaline coursing through her.

She kept walking despite the faint shaking of her legs while doing her best to avoid completing that thought. Even if she had fallen so far as to sympathize with her prey, to like this pony, to even consider his happiness and wellbeing against her own interests...

Even if she were the most pathetic changeling in history, there were still some things that she could never do.

Nothing had changed.

Certainly, nothing had improved. If anything, the situation had gotten worse. Even with a final course of action in mind, Meadow couldn't shake the feelings of guilt. Even when she grew angry with herself for feeling that guilt, it never got rid of it. She still saw Spark every day. Despite his assurances, there was always a sadness there, and it gnawed at her.

The sooner she could leave on her expedition, the sooner he'd be able to move on. She would have liked to see him happy again, but she could make do with the knowledge that things would be better for him once she left.

She had the money. She'd actually had enough for some time, but now she was settled on using it. All she was waiting for was for the weather to improve enough to make an expedition more viable. Sometime in spring, she would be able to leave.

Spring was almost there.

Meadow continued on. The routine had become something of a safety mechanism; she could just carry on as she always had, no obstacles or obstructions getting in the way. It was easy, focused, and made it easier to ignore anything else going on around her.

Almost anything.

"Hey," she said dully as she stepped inside the front door. Another day of work was over, the routine leading her back home. Next would be a quick snack, then idle reading, then dinner. It was simple, mechanical, predictable.

Spark didn't reply. He was laid out on the couch, reading, but he didn't seem to acknowledge her presence. It was unusual, a slight difference in the routine. She paused, glancing over at him. She could feel only a faint sadness directed toward her, yet he looked miserable. There were no signs of crying or other such overt outlets. He simply looked wilted, defeated. He looked thoroughly depressed in a way that made Meadow hesitate, that guilty feeling rising again.

A moment later she noticed the small pile of mail on the coffee table. More specifically, she noticed one of the fliers tucked in with the unopened letters, simple little ads that some places mailed out for specific occasions.

The one that caught her eye, adorned thoroughly with hearts, had been sent out for Hearts and Hooves day.

Tomorrow.

She looked back to Spark. Something about his disheveled, defeated look struck her hard. It was the kind of cruelty she could enjoy inflicting on an enemy, but for someone--even somepony--that she actually cared about, it seemed so horrible. Hearts and Hooves day was tomorrow, a day for ponies to express their love, and here he was, living with a pony he cared so deeply for, yet could never have.

I'm hurting him.

She winced a little as she turned away, continuing on to the kitchen. She didn't want to see him like that. Even though she knew it would happen, she found it remarkably more uncomfortable when she had to see it happen to him.

Again.

The thought brought her to a stop in the middle of the kitchen. This wasn't the first time she had seen him like that. Back at the orphanage, he had grown similarly depressed after having failed to be adopted so many times. She had caused that, too, she noted, a recognition that brought out another bit of guilt to add to the growing pile. On top of that, those events had also seen her in a similar crisis of self. She had ended up curled up with him, crying into his chest. She had felt like a failure and had taken comfort in his presence. He had been comforting and reassuring. He had made her feel a little less alone in the world.

And when it had all ended, when he had been dancing for joy at being adopted, she had felt happy for him.

Even back then, I was sympathizing with him.

She sighed, head sinking a little lower, while her thoughts continued on. The little voice in the back of her mind kept whispering little words to her. Pathetic. Useless. Replaced.

How had it all ended, back then? How had he gone from depressed to overjoyed in a single day?

She had stopped trying to keep control over him. She had relented on pushing everything only toward what she had desired, and instead, let him have what he wanted so much.

Eventually, she stirred from her thoughts. Ignoring the fridge, she continued out the back of the kitchen, the comfortable and familiar routine abandoned. She made her way quietly upstairs, and into the large bedroom. Much like their old room back in the orphanage, it contained a pair of beds, and she made her way over to her own, and the dresser beside it.

Reaching out with her magic, she took up the familiar journal and took a seat on the edge of her bed. She opened the cover and started to slowly scan over the page.

Slowly, she made her way through the journal, a page at a time. She read little of it; she knew almost every word by heart. Still, she continued on until it again sat closed in her hooves, and she remained sitting there, staring at the blank back cover.

She didn't know how long she had sat there before finally stirring again. Her limbs trembled slightly as she slid off the bed and slowly made her way over to the bedroom closet, her eyes still fixed on the small journal.

In the closet were several boxes from the move, holding things--mostly Spark's--that they wanted to keep, but didn't have an immediate need for. She stood before them for several long minutes before reaching out with her magic. A moment later, she deposited the journal in one of the boxes and turned, walking away on shaky legs.

Already her heart was beating faster. As she made her way down the stairs, she could hear it clearly in her ears, building faster. When she reached the doorway to the living room, she had to stop, forcing herself to calm down, to compose herself. It did little to calm the pounding in her chest, but at least she could hide the outward expression of the building anxiety.

I can't believe I'm going to do this, she thought as she forced herself to step forward. Every single instinct cried out against what she was doing, but she fixed her eyes on the back of Spark's head and pushed herself onward.

When she reached the side of the couch, she hesitated for only a moment. Raising a hoof--and doing her best to keep it from shaking with the anxiety pouring through her--she set it gently on the edge of the couch and spoke softly. "Spark?"

Spark twitched, caught by surprise by her quiet approach, and craned his neck to look back at her. "...Yeah?"

Meadow nearly winced away. His emotions seemed so deadened. The tiny ember of hope still burned, but it was deep in the background, muffled under the weight of his unhappiness. She found it surprisingly hard to speak, but she pushed on. "...I wanted to say I'm sorry."

Spark stared for a moment, then hesitantly shook his head. "You don't need to apologize, Meadow. You haven't done anything wrong."

That seemed exactly like the kind of lie pony society encouraged, but she shook her head, refusing it. "Yes I have," she said. "All of this is my fault. All because... because I've been so selfish and thoughtless." Already the surprise and concern were welling up in Spark. "It is my fault, and I... I want to fix it."

Her composure nearly slipped as she had to force the next part out. "I want you to have the money I've been saving up."

Spark's ears shot up, eyes widening in surprise. He stuttered faintly, only managing a shocked, "W-what?"

"The money I'd been saving for the expedition. You can use it for your own project if there's anything expensive you need." She hesitated, then added, "I'd like to see it go to something that's actually important to somepony."

"B-but... your trip..." Spark sat up, looking--and feeling--stunned by this news. His depression had already been forgotten, replaced now with his concern for her happiness, a change that gave her some small comfort.

Still, she had to force the next sentence out. "I'm not going."

There. It was out. She had said it. Her heart still pounded hard in her ears, doubt and fear clawed at her mind, protesting in every way that they could, but she was steady in her resolve. It was said and done; now, rather than forcing herself onto the dreaded subject, she merely had to hold course.

Spark was shaking his head slightly, clearly unsure about this change. "But... why?"

Meadow hesitated, looking down as she thought. How should she word it? As uncomfortable as the thought was after a life in pursuit of becoming an Infiltrator, she cared about him. If she was going to do this, to stay here with him, to actually care for him, she wanted to do it right; that meant no more lies. Well, no new ones, anyway.

Eventually, she replied, her voice subdued. "Because you couldn't come with me."

Spark was about to reply, but she held up a hoof to forestall him. "No, Spark. I couldn't take you with me. It's not that it was dangerous. It's because... because the more I thought on it and analyzed my plan, the more I recognized that nopony going on that trip would be coming back. I didn't put any consideration into what would happen to the ponies that accompanied me until you wanted to come. I... I just dismissed it all, without any thought for anypony else. It was selfish of me. Then you wanted to come, and suddenly I had something to lose. And... if I can't bring you with me because I think you wouldn't make it back, how could I ask a bunch of other ponies to walk into the same situation?"

The words had barely left her mouth before she was shaking her head, a hoof raising to her temple. "No... no, that's just an excuse." Sure, she found the idea unsettlingly unpleasant when she drew parallels between those imagined ponies and Spark, but that hadn't played a part in her decision. She also found it ironic that slipping into a perfect lie felt so uncomfortable, now.

"No, the... the truth is, the whole expedition is something I never really, really thought on. I mean, I thought of how to do it, but that's it. After you asked to come, I spent a lot of time thinking on the subject. The more I thought about it, the more it seemed like the expedition is what I'm expected to do, and... and that's it. I couldn't be sure if it's what I should do, or what I... what I want. It took a lot of thinking but now I know... it's not what I really want."

The emotions stirring in Spark had flared up even greater than before; nervousness, surprise, and confusion, but also a steadily growing hope. Cautiously, he spoke up. "Then what do you really want?"

For a moment, she hesitated. Several methods of phrasing it came to mind, but in the end, she gave a weak smile. Then she reached out, lightly placing a hoof on Spark's shoulder. His ears pinned back, the faintest suggestion of a blush starting to form. As the corners of his mouth twitched up a bit, her own smile grew a little more confident.

Then his nascent smile vanished as he glanced toward her flank. "But... what about your cutie mark?"

Her own smile vanished with his as she turned to look at the offending image. Stupid thing. But... I can make use of this.

"...When I first got it, I said that I knew I had to find my own way in the world." She turned back to him, her smile returning, as well as a new sense of confidence. "It might have taken me a few too many months of moping about, but I have. And that's why I'm staying here."

Spark was smiling again. It was faint and terribly weak, but it was there. Despite the faint embarrassment it brought, Meadow was happy to see it. It also made her particularly hopeful for what was coming up next.

"And on that note, I think it'd be nice to change things up from how dreary I've been making it, by doing something special tomorrow..."

She let her statement hang, watching as Spark looked to her first with curiosity, followed by surprised realization. "Really?"

Meadow nodded.

"...Special?"

Surprising herself, she gave a soft, nervous laugh, and nodded.

"I, uh..." he looked around, mind scrambling. "Well, I might be able to get us a reservation at Sweetwater, again. I mean, if they aren't booked up yet, or, um..."

"If that's what you wanted," she said softly, still smiling. "Though I was thinking that maybe we could borrow the Cirrus for the evening, and go flying. Just the two of us."

It was gratifying to see how he lit up at the idea. It was as if all the energy that he had been lacking had come back full-force, and it was barely a minute later that he hurried off to his adoptive parents, hoping to borrow their airship again. Meadow smiled as she watched him go, barely restraining himself from running flat-out in his eagerness.

As soon as the door was shut, and he was out of sight, the smile vanished. She slumped to the floor beside the couch, letting out a deep, shuddering sigh. Her heart was still pounding in her ears, quick and anxious with the weight of what she was doing.

I've been replaced, she reasoned. I have no use or purpose at the hive. They will not be any weaker for my absence. I'd be nothing more than another manual laborer, another mouth to feed, doing nothing that could not be done by anyling else.

As reasonable as they were, it still sounded hollow to her.

Ceymi would be disgusted with what I've become. That thought hurt. Her mentor, the changeling she looked up to the most, would have been disgusted to see what had become of one of her most promising pupils. A nymph that could have made a fine Infiltrator, reduced to... this. A broken-down changeling, turning away from the hive to seek comfort in the embrace of a pony.

Even if she were convinced that she could do nothing for the hive, a good changeling should still try. Even if there was no purpose to it, to simply give up... it felt wrong...

...But as the Cirrus cleared the scattered clouds in the evening sky, letting the sun cast its rich glow across Spark's happy smile as he steered the small airship, the worries faded into the background.

He was happy. Despite her concerns, she was happy. They were both happy that the other was happy.

She sat back, relaxed, as Spark steered them along. Even with the spectacular view, she found herself watching him more than the sights around them.

After all the time spent moping and worrying, a happy and relaxing evening was exactly what Meadow needed. There was none of the awkwardness or manipulations that had accompanied them last year. Instead, she found herself in the unusual--and admittedly, slightly uncomfortable--position of simply going along, letting the evening unfold naturally, free of her attempts to control everything. It was like letting go of the rudder and just drifting with the current, which was precisely what Spark eventually did in order to sit back and relax beside her.

She leaned in gently against him, and he leaned into her. Yet it wasn't quite perfect. She could sense the faint hesitation, the tiny touch of worry in his emotions. Despite the uncomfortable feeling of guilt it caused her, she understood perfectly. She had hurt him over the past months, and it was unsurprising that it would have built up an emotional callus.

Unlike the previous months, however, she felt optimistic. Like a callus, those reservations would fade with time. She just needed to be there with him, being as good of a friend as she had ever seemed to be.

When she slipped a foreleg around his shoulders, she could feel the thrill of excitement and nervousness go through him. She almost broke out chuckling at it but managed to restrain herself to a content smile. Yes, his worry was still there, maybe even grown a touch stronger by their proximity, but it was drowned out behind the happiness, and feeling that sensation from him lifted her own spirits.

Even if she was the most pathetic changeling in history, at least she had something to be happy for.

Night had fallen by the time they returned home. Meadow couldn't have been happier with how the evening had gone. A long and beautiful flight with just the two of them, a very filling meal--not at a fancy restaurant, but instead at a cozy diner nearby--and many hours in the company of a very happy and nervously excited Spark, had all made it as perfect as she could have hoped. All without her needing to do a thing, except to be there with him.

She shut the front door behind them as they entered, let out a happy sigh, and turned to face Spark again. He was standing close, looking to her with his happy smile, and even more nervous excitement than before. It was a little surprising until she realized that he was facing the exact same problem that she was.

I have no idea what to do now.

That wasn't quite true, or at least it wasn't the entire truth. She knew how to manipulate ponies, all manner of words and actions she could do to guide them in the direction she wanted. In a way, that was what pretty much all social interactions were, actions to influence somepony else in the way one desired. At the same time, it felt dishonest. She found the thought ironic; normally, being dishonest would be good. With Spark, however, she wanted to be... well, mostly honest. As honest as she could be. And that left her feeling a little lost.

So, rather than engaging in any cunning social maneuvers, she found herself to suddenly be the more awkward of the two, a blush growing until she looked down, trying to hide her embarrassment. She did finally manage to speak up, eyes peeking up again at Spark, who seemed a bit amused to see her so shy, yet still smiling. "...We should have done this a long time ago."

Spark let out a nervous little chuckle. "We kind of did, last year."

"That was different," she said. "I enjoyed that, too, but I just... I dunno, I was so focused on other things, that I didn't even consider..." She trailed off, the awkwardness returning. Eventually, she leaned in, nudging his shoulder with her own. "I like it a lot more this way."

"Me too," he managed to say, despite the rising blush in his cheeks.

An awkward silence followed until they finally acknowledged that they couldn't just stand there in the entryway, and with nervous chuckles, continued on with the rest of their evening.

Eventually, they said their goodnights and tucked into their own beds. As she lay there, all the doubt, anxiety, uncertainty, and excitement still ran through Meadow's mind. She rolled to her side, peering over to where Spark lay. The lamp by Spark's bed was still lit, but the flame was turned so low that it was nearly extinguished, casting only a faint and flickering light across his form.

She smiled. In some small way, that still surprised her. She saw him, and she felt happy. As bizarre as it was to her, it was true.

She nearly jumped when his eyes slid open, meeting hers. He looked sleepily to her for several seconds before he answered her smile with one of his own. Then his eyes closed again as he returned to sleep.

Meadow curled up in her blankets, her own smile holding strong, and feeling more convinced than ever that she had made the right choice.

In most ways, everything seemed so much livelier. The day after Hearts and Hooves, she had gone to work in such a good mood that several of her coworkers had been quite surprised to see such a change. It was a little embarrassing, knowing she had failed in her acting so badly that it had been so clearly obvious, but she found it easy to overlook. Charity had been particularly enthusiastic when she found out about the previous day's date. She had surprised Meadow by rushing up and giving her a hug, congratulating her on the good news.

Spark seemed livelier, too. He returned to his flying-machine project with enthusiasm, despite it sitting nearly untouched through the winter. Meadow happily tagged along, watching him work and offering what help she could, which mainly consisted of holding something while he did the actual work.

Yet the faint awkwardness still held. Meadow was patient, willing to take her time, yet something still seemed to linger between them. The doubt and fear in Spark refused to subside. Despite how happy he was, there was still that instinctive concern that held on, and Meadow had no idea what to do about it. Instead, she thought on the problem, while hoping that a solution would present itself.

She certainly couldn't have predicted how that would happen.

Waking up early was nothing unusual for Meadow. Even with the years among ponies, she still couldn't get herself to sleep as long as them. She would always wake well before Spark. Sometimes she'd get up and get an early start on the day with some exercise and a shower. Other days she'd give in to laziness and just lounge in bed until Spark woke up.

Waking up so early that it was still pitch-black outside, despite it being summer, was a bit more unusual.

Waking up so early and being unable to get back to sleep was even more so.

She rolled over several times, keeping her eyes closed, trying to get comfortable. She couldn't be sure how long she lay there as if pretending to sleep might lead to her actually sleeping. It all blended into a meaningless dark haze. The only thing to draw her attention was the faint, muffled noises from outside; the parties for the Summer Sun Celebration were apparently still in full swing.

She had been half-tempted to go out to those parties, rather than staying with Spark, but he had wanted to sleep, reasoning that they could rise well-rested for the main celebration in the morning--and besides, the celebration here could hardly compare after having seen Celestia raising the sun the previous year, a point that Meadow had to agree with. Still, if she couldn't sleep, it was tempting to slip out and join in on one of the parties.

In the end, laziness won out, and she simply rolled over, trying to sleep, or at least rest until it was closer to dawn.

It was some time later--she really couldn't be sure how long it had been--when a slightly louder sound reached her ears. It was still quiet and muffled, barely rising beyond the indistinct background noise, but it sounded like somepony yelling something. That was no surprise, some ponies always got excited at parties, or had a bit too much cider, and happy yelling often ensued. Still, she took it as an excuse to give up on trying to sleep.

Spark stirred and groaned something as she got up, apparently sleeping no better than she had been. She rose and trudged over to the window, her movements stiff from having laid awake for so long. At least she felt rested enough, if rather groggy.

Peering out of the window, she could see the source of the shouting: an earth pony mare was snatching up several spilled suitcases and tossing them back into a wagon, which was hitched up to an anxious-looking stallion. Before long she had collected the spilled belongings, and they hurried off as fast as the stallion could gallop.

That was a little odd. Even for ponies.

Actually, several things seemed odd. There at the window, even closed, she could hear the sounds from outside more clearly, and it didn't sound like the revelry from earlier. She was certain the house across the road had been hosting one of the parties, but now the place was dark and empty, with some of the decorations knocked down. Instead of distant, muffled music, there were sporadic shouts, and even what she swore sounded like the occasional scream. She could just see another mare down the street, nailing boards over the windows of her house. A distant glow from over the rooftops, toward the center of town, cast a flickering glow over the horizon. Is something burning out there?

A soft groan from Spark drew her attention away from the window. "Urgh. What time is it?"

Meadow stepped to the side to look at the clock hung on the wall, and then frowned. It read 11:40. She was certain they'd gone to bed around eleven, maybe later, and there was no way that she had slept that little. "Uh, I think your clock's off."

There was another grunt as Spark pushed the blankets off and slid off the bed, followed by the soft clatter of metal as he dug around in the random collection of parts and objects that had accumulated near his bed. Finally, he found one of the pocket watches he had not yet disassembled. He squinted in the dim light coming from the window, his little lamp having guttered out at some point during the night, as it often would. She could practically hear the frown in his voice. "A quarter to noon?"

"It's not noon," Meadow said. "It's the middle of the night."

Spark rubbed at his eyes. "Yeah, I can see that, but it's what this thing says. Maybe I didn't set this one." He dug around through the collection again to find another one. Pulling it out, he again squinted at it. Then he lowered it, his voice sounding a bit more concerned. "This one says the same thing."

"So does the clock," Meadow said quietly, looking back out the window to a scene that was very clearly not a quarter to noon.

"What's going on out there?"

"I don't know," Meadow replied. "I think there's a fire."

"What?" There was a soft clatter as Spark tossed the watches back into the pile, and stepped up to her side. His side rubbed against hers, though she would have enjoyed it more if it hadn't been him huddling closer due to his dislike of the dark. "This all looks... weird..."

Meadow nodded.

They stood there silently for a minute.

Then Spark went stiff, staggering back a step. Meadow's head snapped around to look at him; he was staring out the window, wide-eyed and horrified. His mouth quivered, managing to make only a strangled "No..."

She followed his gaze, but he hadn't been looking out at the town. Instead, his eyes had been turned up to the sky. She looked up as well, but the only thing she could see was the sea of sparkling stars, and the full moon, shining and silver in the darkness.

Unblemished.

Several seconds passed before she fully processed a sight she had never seen before. Her stomach lurched as her mind leaped from what she was seeing now, to the lore surrounding what she did not see.

"...Oh, that's not good."

She regretted those words the very moment she said them, as they seemed to break Spark from his shocked trance. He backpedaled frantically. "No. No, no, no!" He bolted to his bed, leaping on it and pulling the covers over his head.

"Spark!"

Meadow hurried over, climbing onto his bed. "Spark, calm down, it's okay!" She pulled at the covers as she tried to calm him, while he clutched to them, repeating that one word over and over. Finally, she managed to tear the blankets away enough to get to him. His hooves flailed after the covers, but she pulled him into a tight embrace, and they closed around her instead.

"It's okay," she repeated. "It's okay."

He clutched to her as if his life depended on it, shuddering with his growing sobs. He whimpered pitifully. "I-I can't. I can't. Not this. Please, not this."

She held him tight, murmuring her reassurances to him. Then she raised her head, pouring energy into her horn, and the room lit up in pale-green light.

She felt Spark go abruptly still. Turning her head down again, she saw him looking up, squinting against the light. His eyes were still filled with terror, and she could feel the powerful desperation within him, now focused squarely on her.

"It'll be okay," she said softly, giving the most reassuring smile she could manage. "I'm here with you."

He shuddered as he tucked his head back in against her chest, shuddering as he held onto her, but now he was quiet, the frantic panic that had taken hold of him broken.

For just a moment, a little part of her looked down on him, noting how pathetic he looked huddling there, afraid of the dark.

Then she felt angry at having even thought that. This wasn't just a little dark. She was familiar with the stories. Up until a few moments ago, that's all that they had been, stories of an impossible evil who had challenged Celestia and tried to bring about eternal darkness. Now, it looked as if a monster of myth and legend had just stepped into the real world. It all seemed so bizarre, something she would normally dismiss as impossible.

But she had seen so many strange things among these ponies. More importantly, she had seen Celestia. Meadow had seen what she could do, the power she held. She had so much power that she raised the very sun every single day.

Except for today. Whether the legends were true or not, something had stopped that impossibly powerful being from raising the sun as she had for centuries.

Spark should be scared, she thought, giving him a reassuring squeeze.

I should be scared.

Why am I not scared?

She looked down to him again. He still shivered, but his breathing had calmed. Seeing that made her feel just a little bit better.

She considered that feeling. When she had recognized what was happening, she should have been terrified. Instead, she had seen him afraid, and her first response was to forget about herself and try to help him.

Then realization struck her.

I can protect him.

It seemed an almost absurd thought in the face of what might well be an oncoming apocalypse, but she felt a twinge of excitement and hope at the thought. Presented with such a grand threat, her reflex had been not to selfishly save herself, but help him. Even as hopeless as she knew it must be, she would do anything she could to keep him safe.

She could have a purpose again. She could have a place. She might have lost her hive... but she could have a new hive. A new... family. Something that she could devote herself to, not of her own selfish interests, but to have a true purpose, something more than just herself. It might be futile and fatally brief, but it was there for her.

Maybe I'm not such a bad changeling, after all, she thought with a growing smile, as she looked down to Spark again.

Spark...

He loved Meadow.

But she hadn't been Meadow, recently. Not quite. She had held herself back, giving him a bit of space and time to recover, but it had been an act. Another lie. A well-meaning lie, but still a lie. She had been there for him, friendly and warm, but that had been it. She had held back. Despite being a close friend, despite the dates they had gone on in the previous months, and all the time they had spent together, she had never been truly affectionate.

But as strange as it was to acknowledge, particularly given the circumstances, she wanted to.

Because she loved him.

It was the only explanation that fit. She cared about him. She had abandoned her years-long goal of returning to the hive not just to keep him safe, but to make him happy. She had rushed over to protect and comfort him without putting even a moment's consideration toward herself. When he was scared, she felt pained for him. When he was happy... she was happy.

The knowledge that he loved her was comforting and invigorating. Even behind the concern and hesitation, she could taste his feelings for her, delightful for more than just their flavor. But Spark? He was a pony. He could never sense her feelings for him. He could only judge them by outward appearances, by what she allowed him to see, and she had only let him see an act. If he couldn't sense how she felt, she had to show him how she felt.

So she leaned her head down, her cheek brushing against his as she nosed slowly along his jaw. It took a few moments before he stirred. When she finally drew back, his head rose to look up at her. The emotions coming from him were confused and jumbled.

Meadow brushed her nose against his, and even though she could feel the traces of dampness running down her cheeks, her smile was more sincere and heartfelt than ever. She reached up to lightly run a hoof through his brightly-colored mane as she continued to smile at him--and slowly, the fear and panic in him started to ebb, until he managed to force a weak smile of his own.

She closed her eyes again and leaned in, nosing under his chin and along his jaw, until her muzzle was tucked in against his neck, nuzzling into his soft fur.

Spark seemed frozen in place for a moment. After a few moments, he cautiously tilted his head to press his cheek lightly to hers. It was a tentative, almost fearful gesture, one that she answered by nosing a little more firmly up against the line of his jaw.

They nuzzled; Spark's gestures were timid, almost fearful, while hers were gentle, but firm, confident.

Then she felt the shift in his emotions. It was slow at first, just a tiny bit of that reservation stripping away. As his nuzzling grew more confident, the change came ever more swiftly. As the final sliver of reservation melted away...

It was beautiful.

She had never tasted pure love before. In the hive, there had certainly been traces of it mixed into the energies they fed on, but it had been lost behind the bulk of other emotional energies. The surge of energy Ceymi had provided her had been rich with it, but even if she had been in any state to appreciate it, it had still been mixed and diluted with other emotions.

Of course, she had experienced affection, in all varieties of flavors. She had even gotten some love from Spark, but that had been tinged by his reluctance and concern.

But this? A true, open love, given freely and without reservation?

It was the most incredible sensation Meadow had ever felt. Nothing quite compared. It was powerful, exhilarating, almost intoxicating. She immediately fought down the urge to gorge herself on the emotion. Part of her reaction was purely practical; feasting heavily would weaken Spark, and the drain might snuff out the feeling entirely.

That part was much smaller than the part of her that simply beheld the emotions, overjoyed that someone--even somepony--could feel so strongly for her. Feeding heavily on those emotions felt wrong, in a way. Yes, it was food, but these emotions held a much greater importance than mere sustenance.

Instead, she allowed herself the tiniest of tastes, sipping up only a minuscule portion of what he offered. Even that little bit was so much better than the varieties of affection and compassion she had tasted before, and she could feel the greater power it held even in such small amounts.

I wish you could feel this, she thought, savoring the flavor as carefully as possible, as if worried she might damage them. I wonder if my feelings for you are just as wonderful?

She nuzzled slowly and lovingly, breathing through his fur. He returned the gesture, his fear almost entirely forgotten.

They lay together, cuddling close until the light of the rising sun chased away the darkness.

Chapter 16: A New Day

Chapter 16: A New Day

The world felt ever so slightly unreal as Meadow trotted along, her hooves clopping crisply on the stone walkway leading to City Hall. It seemed so strange that only a couple of hours ago some ancient monstrosity from pony legend had threatened to keep the entire world cloaked in darkness forever. Despite how much strangeness she had encountered among the ponies, this was an all-new level of weird. Almost as weird was how calm most of the ponies she passed by had been. There were a few who were still been shaken up, being comforted by their friends, but the vast majority seemed as content as usual. There were even several large celebrations going on for the Summer Sun Celebration, with a fair bit of "hooray the world didn't end" added to the mix.

Meadow had to admit that, even if ponies were a bit too prone to panic and overreaction, they certainly recovered and adapted to such oddities quickly.

She was also pleased that the ponies were in fairly happy moods, as she didn't have to put in the effort to hide the happy smile that came to her face. For once, she didn't want to hide how she really felt.

She was in love.

The mere thought of that seemed in many ways more unreal than everything else that had happened. That persistent voice in the back of her mind scoffed condescendingly that she would have such feelings for someone else, much less a pony, but she had learned to ignore it. Instead, she trotted along, nearly skipping with joy. It felt as if it would be wrong to try to hide her happiness, as if such a thing would be tarnishing the reason behind it. She didn't want to hide it. In fact, part of her wanted everypony to see that joy.

The sight as she stepped inside City Hall jolted her from her thoughts. The entire place was in chaos. Ponies dashed here and there, shouting back and forth as they hurried about. A few pegasi flew about at speeds that normally would have gotten many angry yells from the stuffier bureaucrats, carrying bundles of papers between offices. Even some of those bureaucrats were hustling along, despite having always been so sedate and proper that Meadow had seldom seen them move at so much as a brisk walk, much less galloping through the anarchic hall.

Distracted from her previous happy thoughts, her pace calmed a bit, expression growing more serious. She had expected City Hall to be busy in the aftermath of the extended night, but she hadn't expected quite so drastic of a reaction. She skirted the edge of the crowd until she reached one of the halls, making her way to the Aid Committee offices.

The crowd gathered outside those offices was rather different. Rather than the frantic rush of ponies that she had seen in the main lobby, this was a more familiar crowd: ponies in need of help. They looked to be doing as well as most ponies she had seen here before. Some looked worried or dazed, and a few crying foals were being comforted by parents, but most of the ponies there were calmly optimistic and friendly.

Stepping into the offices, Meadow was immediately confronted with the sight of a very frazzled Charity, with bags under her eyes and a stack of papers held in her mouth. The other mare froze for an instant, then hurriedly dropped the stack atop a table and rushed over to grasp Meadow in a surprisingly tight hug.

"Oh thank Celestia!" she cried out. Then, releasing the hug, she moved back. "I've been so worried, but it's been so hectic here I haven't been able to check up on anypony. Are you okay?"

Meadow's smile quickly returned. "I'm doing great," she said. "Though you look a bit exhausted. Are you okay?"

Charity groaned softly, her head and ears drooping as she leaned against a desk. "I was up all night at celebrations, so I haven't gotten a minute of sleep. Then the sun didn't come up and ponies started getting worried, and then some started panicking, and... I know City Hall was going to be closed today for the celebration, but I just had to come down after everything that happened. I knew there were going to be ponies that needed help. I'm just glad some of the other staff thought the same because we've been completely swamped as-is!"

Meadow raised an eyebrow. "Is it that bad?"

"It's horrible," Charity answered, a frown growing on her face. She turned back to the stack she had set down, carefully gathering them in her hooves. Now that she wasn't rushing about, Meadow could see how tired the mare's movements were. "A good number of ponies got minor injuries when the panic started to set in. There's property damage all over the place. And there are still dozens of ponies missing and unaccounted for. They probably all ran out of town and just haven't made their way back yet. I hope that's the case, because..."

Charity halted, biting her lip. Meadow could see the tears starting to well up. Still, she remained silent until she caught Meadow's questioning look. Charity quickly wiped the back of her hoof across her eyes, took a deep breath, and spoke again. "There was a fire. A bad one. Some ponies got so panicked when the sun didn't rise, thinking that Celestia had died, and they were so desperate for any light they could get. Candles, lanterns, bonfires. In all the panic, something went wrong, and it started a huge blaze."

"It was chaos," she said. "With all the panic going on, it was impossible to find ponies to help out, and half the ones who could help had no idea that anything had happened. Luckily a bunch of pegasi realized what was going on and commandeered some storm clouds, and with the help of a few ponies on the ground managed to stop the fire before it could spread any further, but... but it's bad. Two apartment buildings, at least a dozen homes, plus a few shops and such. I've been scrambling trying to find shelter for everypony, but we've got well over a hundred ponies without a place to sleep tonight."

Charity hesitated before continuing on, her voice a touch weaker. "And they're probably the lucky ones. They... they don't know of anypony that's... died... but with all the chaos, they can't account for everypony. There are at least thirty ponies in the hospital because of the fire, and a few of them were hurt really badly. It's awful. There were kids there! A couple foals, and now they're in the hospital, and--"

Her voice choked up. She stood there, trembling faintly for a moment until a tear started to run down her cheek. As if it brought her back to her senses, she shook her head, sniffing as the look of despair vanished behind a mask of determination. "I can't do anything about that, but I can try to help make sure everypony else has a place to sleep and food to eat. But there's so many of them, there's just so much to do!"

"How can I help?" Meadow asked, without a moment of hesitation.

That simple question brought out a smile from Charity. "Oh, I knew I could count on you! You've always been a miracle worker, Meadow. Can you help with getting these ponies a place to sleep for the night? Anything would do, just so long as we can get them something soft to sleep on and a roof over their heads. The best we've come up with is setting up a bunch of tents in Solar Park. If you could handle that, then I should be able to arrange everything so that everypony has food."

"I know just where to start," Meadow said with a smile. One could make plenty of temporary structures out of some lumber and canvas, and she knew the perfect place to start looking for those.

"Oh, thank you!" Charity said, again throwing her hooves around Meadow. "The whole time I've been scrambling around, I knew you'd come to help, I just knew it!"

Meadow hesitated. She almost didn't say anything, but with the way things had been going, with the choices she had made, it seemed fitting to follow through. "...You should thank Spark, not me. I was so focused on him that it didn't even occur to me to come down here until he thought of it." She gave a slightly embarrassed smile. "Sorry."

Thankfully, Charity chuckled, giving her a pat on the shoulder. "Perfectly understandable. How is he doing?"

"It hit him a little hard," Meadow admitted. "He's always had a bit of an aversion to the dark, so he was... a bit shaken up." A soft smile slowly spread across her muzzle. "He's doing much better, now."

Charity nodded, smiling as well. "Good." Then she sighed, looking back to the desk. "Okay. Break time is over, we need to get to work."

Meadow watched the frazzled mare hurry along despite stifling a yawn. "Maybe you should take a bit more of a break and get a nap?"

In response, Charity laughed, waving a dismissive hoof. "I can sleep when the work's done, there are too many ponies out there to help for me to be able to sleep easy. Besides, I've got coffee!" To emphasize the point, she snatched up her mug, downing it all in one go, and then hurried on about her work.

Meadow just smiled as she turned to leave, trotting along to find the supplies and volunteers that they needed.

By the time the sun was approaching the horizon, Meadow was quite happy to have gotten the extra rest that morning. She wiped the back of her hoof across her brow, then leaned against the wooden frame she had just helped set in place. Even as she panted, she was smiling. All throughout the clearing in the park, in what had just been an empty field a couple of hours ago, stood twenty large tents, each one large enough to house an entire family. They were very basic things, simple wooden frames covered in canvas, but they were spacious and sturdy, and perfectly up to the task of housing those unfortunate ponies while more permanent housing could be found.

It had been simple enough. Sunseeker knew all the lumber and canvas dealers in town thanks to his business and had helped her acquire everything she needed. Volunteers were even easier; many of the displaced ponies were eager to pitch in and help, and despite their weariness from a sleepless night, they worked hard through the evening. All around her, ponies were exhausted, eyes half-lidded with the need for sleep, yet they still worked on. Despite the reason for them being there, and the pervasive fatigue, there was an air of optimism, weary smiles shared between ponies in the short breaks between work.

Meadow smiled proudly as she watched for a moment. It was the sort of thing she could appreciate. Hard work, for a greater cause. It was even encouraging to see these ponies embracing that cause, working themselves to exhaustion to help their fellow ponies. At that moment, it felt like she belonged there. She had a place, she had a purpose, and she had fulfilled that role perfectly.

The generous amounts of appreciation and thanks given freely to her were a nice bonus, too. She had been right there in the middle of all the work, of course. She had been lending a helping hoof and the aid of her magic wherever she could. She certainly had enough energy to spare on the magic, even burning extra on occasion in order to move rather large stacks of lumber about. Despite having sampled only the tiniest bit of Spark's love, she swore she could feel a slight increase in the power of her magic.

Love.

Her smile widened into an excited grin at the thought of Spark. The work here was almost done, and that meant she would soon be headed home to him again. Fatigue slipped from her mind at the thought. If they hadn't been shape-shifted away, she knew she would probably be buzzing her wings in excitement just at the thought. Oh, sweet Celestia, I'm getting giddy. When did I get so sappy? Then she frowned. Wait, did I just... ugh! Dumb pony phrases...

"Something wrong?"

The sound of Charity's voice brought back Meadow's smile as she turned to see the mare wearily approach. Charity looked even more exhausted than she had before, but she was smiling, and radiating such happy emotions. She looked as if she should have gone to sleep hours ago, yet there she was, making sure everypony else was taken care of. Putting the other ponies' needs before her own. That was something Meadow could respect.

"Oh, no," Meadow said, shaking her head to clear her thoughts. "Just lost in thought." Then she gestured to the collection of tents. "We made it, though. They're finishing up the last of these tents right now. A nearby shop lent equipment for a full kitchen setup, and there are plenty of open doors for anypony that needs a restroom, or a bath. I think we might be good here."

Charity sighed happily. "Oh, thank Celestia. I knew I could count on you." She patted Meadow on the shoulder.

"Just doing my job," Meadow said, modestly.

For a minute, they stood there, looking over the progress. Soon one of the ponies working on the final tent threw her hooves up, followed by a hearty cheer by the volunteers. With the work complete, some simply flopped onto the grass in exhaustion, while others celebrated. Several nearby families brought out leftover treats and desserts from the previous night's celebrations, a jovial air filling the park.

Meadow and Charity looked on, smiling in silence for a moment.

"Yes, I think everything will be just fine," Charity said with a content nod. "We've still got a lot of work ahead of us tomorrow, but I think we did good today."

"I'll be there, bright and early," Meadow replied, earning a happy chuckle from Charity.

"So, you've been so busy working out here, I don't suppose you heard what happened?"

Meadow cocked her head, looking curiously to Charity. "What's that?"

"We got a pegasus messenger from Canterlot. Er, a second one, that is. First one came before you showed up, but they were just making sure that everypony knew that Celestia was okay and that the crisis, whatever it was, was over. The second one passed on the whole story."

"And that is...?"

"It's a strange one." Charity thought a moment. "Well, you're familiar with the legends of Nightmare Moon, right?"

"Of course," Meadow said. "And when I saw the moon, it seemed pretty obvious that she was involved. If a little... surprising."

Charity let out a short laugh. "An ancient legend come to life is more than a 'little' surprising, I would think."

"Okay, a lot surprising," Meadow said, chuckling along with her. "And maybe a little unsettling. Still, it goes to show how good it is to have a powerful being like Celestia in charge."

"How's that?" Charity asked.

Meadow paused, looking to Charity with a bit of confusion. "To... to defeat ancient legendary beings like Nightmare Moon? After all--"

"Oh, Celestia didn't defeat her."

"Uh..." Meadow glanced up to the sky, lit with orange and pink as the sun approached the horizon, then looked back to Charity. "It rather looks as if she did."

"Oh!" Charity said with a laugh. "No, no. She was defeated, just not by Celestia. The messenger said it was Celestia's student that defeated Nightmare Moon."

Meadow blinked. "Her student?"

"And a few other ponies, and something about some ancient magical artifacts or something."

"So... Nightmare Moon wasn't defeated by an immortal semi-divine being of immense power, but by... a few regular ponies?"

Charity shrugged. "Sounds that way."

Meadow scratched at the back of her head with a hoof, unsure of what to think of that. "...They don't make legendary world-ending evil monsters like they used to?"

That earned a good laugh from Charity. "Maybe! Though she couldn't have been too unimpressive. The messenger didn't have the whole story, but it sounded like Celestia's student had to deal with the problem because Celestia couldn't."

"What?" Meadow's eyes were wide, despite trying to hide her alarm. "Do you mean to tell me that Celestia's student is more powerful than Celestia herself?"

Charity hesitantly shook her head. "I... doubt that. It sounded like whatever artifacts they had did most of it. Though... it also kinda, sorta, maybe sounded like Nightmare Moon had defeated Celestia. The messenger wasn't very clear on why Celestia 'couldn't' beat her, herself."

Meadow just stared. Suddenly, the world felt a little less safe. Great. So we've got Celestia, who can move the sun and moon, Nightmare Moon, who may have overpowered her, and whatever those artifacts are that are even stronger than her... how many other crazy powerful things are there out there?

"Though really, I'm still not entirely sure what happened," Charity continued. "The Manechester Times is supposedly rushing out a special edition, maybe we'll find out more from that." After a momentary pause she frowned, adding, "Though given their track record, I rather doubt it."

"I think I'm getting a headache," Meadow muttered.

"And that's not even the end of it," Charity said.

"There's more?"

"Yep," Charity said, a smile returning to her face. "We've got a new princess!"

"...Oh." Meadow blinked, then said, "Well, I guess that seems a fitting reward for saving the world."

It was Charity's turn to blink in incomprehension. "What?"

"The... but she..." Meadow stopped herself, shaking her head. Best to skip the stumbling around and just ask what weird thing happened now. "...Who's the new princess?"

"Her name is Luna."

Meadow waited expectantly. When no further clarification came, she asked, "And this relates to today's events how?"

"Oh, she's Princess Celestia's sister," Charity replied.

"I didn't know she had a sister."

"I don't think anypony did!" Charity said with a chuckle. "But after she came back as Nightmare Moon and the--"

"What?!"

Charity cringed back, startled by the sudden outburst from Meadow, who stood staring back at her with wide eyes. "...What?"

Meadow forced herself to relax, despite the alarming absurdity of what she had just heard. "...Are you telling me that Luna, this new princess, is Nightmare Moon?"

"Was Nightmare Moon," Charity emphasized. "Apparently she was... I don't know, corrupted? Consumed with jealousy? Something like that. Whatever artifacts they used supposedly stripped away whatever made her Nightmare Moon, and instead made her normal. Er, as normal as an alicorn can be." She hesitated at Meadows disbelieving stare, and added, "As strange as it is, the messenger made it clear that Princess Celestia vouches fully for her, and that's good enough for me."

Meadow sighed softly, rubbing a hoof at the bridge of her nose. Okay, points for loyalty, I suppose. Even if these ponies are all completely insane. "My head hurts. I need to go to sleep."

Charity chuckled. "Sleep well. See you in the morning!"

Meadow nodded as she walked toward home, already trying to think of how to break the news of Princess Nightmare Moon to Spark.

By the time she reached the door of her home, the thoughts of ancient evils, powerful artifacts, and insane pony politics had faded away. A smile had returned to her face as she stepped inside, and at the sound of the door shutting, she heard the sound of hooves clopping on the floor just a moment before Spark stepped out of the kitchen entrance, a hopeful smile on his face.

"Hey, Spark," she said as she walked over.

"Hey," he echoed, before adding, "You look like you've been busy."

"You were right," she said with a soft chuckle. "It was a bit chaotic over there. Much better now."

"Good to hear," Spark replied. He seemed uneasy, the sensation slowly climbing as she moved closer. When she was near, he started to lean forward, but a sudden surge of nervousness made him hesitate and draw back, ears folding flat in embarrassment.

Meadow just chuckled softly and leaned in for him, nuzzling gently against his cheek. The nervousness clung to him for a moment before finally accepting that yes, it was all real. Meadow loved every moment of it; they embraced, nuzzling affectionately, while she savored the taste of his love.

Then the nervousness came back. It was just a tiny little wisp of emotion at first, but quickly grew. She was about to question it when his head pulled back. He looked to her with a nervous smile. Then he closed his eyes, leaned back in, and kissed her.

Meadow's eyes went wide with alarm, the horrifying memory of her previous kiss flooding into her mind--

...And then she slowly relaxed, her eyes drifting closed as she leaned into his embrace.

Maybe this 'kissing' thing isn't so bad, after all...

As always, Meadow woke well before Spark. That morning, she didn't feel like rising and getting an early start on the day, and for once, it had nothing to do with laziness.

She smiled as she looked down at Spark's sleeping form, the two of them still entwined together on her bed. It was certainly not the most comfortable way to sleep, but neither of them had minded. They had cuddled together lovingly until sleep had taken them, and even though she felt a little sore from the awkward arrangement, she couldn't be happier with it. Gently, she rubbed a hoof along his side, eyes half-lidded as she watched him sleep.

Eventually, he murmured softly and began to stir. After a few moments, his eyes fluttered open, sleepily meeting hers. It took him a few groggy moments to fully realize his situation, which drew such a rush of nervousness and excitement that she couldn't help chuckling softly. Still stroking his side, she leaned in to nuzzle softly. "Good morning."

"'Morning," he replied sleepily, returning the gentle rubs. When she laid her head back, he simply looked on, his smile slowly growing. Finally, he let out a quiet chuckle. "...I still can't believe this is real..."

Meadow smirked, giving a playful nudge at his side. "Myths walk out into real life, the world almost ends, and there's a new princess, and this is what's hard to believe?"

Spark blushed. "Well, when you put it that way. But still, I... I just can't believe how lucky I am to be with... you."

With a smile, Meadow leaned in, placing a soft kiss atop his muzzle. "I know exactly how you feel."

Eventually, Meadow found herself back at work. She would have loved to stay home with Spark, basking in the warmth of his love, but they both had work to do. At least her job gave her rewarding work, with a sense of purpose and responsibility that she could imagine as almost letting her fit in. All the meetings with various ponies and the reams of paperwork involved in arranging aid for the temporarily displaced ponies were not as rewarding or engaging as the previous day's work, but it was good work. While not the well-oiled machine of the hive, with its hard-working, single-minded drones, these ponies were still enthusiastic, and actually put in a decent effort for those used to a softer life.

She was even mostly successful in ignoring the thought that, had a bunch of changelings' sleeping places been destroyed, they would simply move to a different chamber that evening and go on as if nothing had happened. Mostly.

Still, if it wasn't as directly rewarding as the previous day's work had been, they were still accomplishing quite a bit. Arrangements had been made with lumber suppliers, a couple construction companies had been brought in, volunteers had been organized, and cleanup was well under way. Progress was swift: the debris from the fire would be cleared out soon, and at least some of the reconstruction would be starting in the morning. With temporary housing established, ponies were back to work, going on with their lives almost as if it hadn't been interrupted.

More good news had arrived early in the day: all the ponies that had been hospitalized in the blaze were expected to make a full recovery. Several of the missing had already been accounted for, and after a thorough search, it had been happily announced that none had died in the fire. With this also came more detailed accounts of the night, little tales of desperation and heroism. Many ponies had leaped into action to help others as the fire had grown. The pony most talked-about was actually one of the most injured. A pegasus pony--ironically named Fireflash--who had repeatedly flown into a burning apartment building to ferry out ponies who were trapped by the fire. Her final trip had ended when she bodily shielded a pair of young colts from the collapsing roof. It bought them enough time for several earth ponies to fight their way through the fire and pull them all to safety, but only barely. It was a great relief to everypony to hear that all three were expected to make a full recovery.

Despite the good news, there were still signs of tragedy. Even though they carried on, there were a few glimpses of sadness when a pony came across a reminder of what they had lost. The children seemed particularly prone to this, having been uprooted from their home, the familiar place that they had spent most of their lives before it was abruptly taken from them, only to be replaced by strange, chaotic, confusing surroundings. It brought out uncomfortable feelings in Meadow, and she was glad that those children were just as easily cheered by the kindness of the ponies around them. Despite the upheaval, despite the loss of so many mementos, keepsakes, and comforts, these ponies were banding together to support each other.

Meadow rather liked that. There was a certain surprising strength and resilience to them that she could appreciate, even if she felt rather hesitant to admit such a thing even to herself. Something about their optimistic nature was endearing. Contagious, almost. Sure, she enjoyed her work, both for the sense of importance it gave her and the wonderful bounty of appreciation and affection which, while she didn't strictly need it anymore, she certainly still enjoyed. Of course, she was content enough with that, happy even, but it had always been from a well-hidden distance.

Before, she had always been happy despite these ponies. It was somewhat bizarre, mystifying, and somewhere in the back of her mind, perhaps a little concerning, to acknowledge that now she was feeling happy because of them.

Mostly Spark, she assured herself, but still... she knew she might actually be able to enjoy where she was.

Perhaps it was that happy contemplation or those ponies' overwhelming optimism, but even the sight of Big Shot couldn't sour her mood. In fact, she found herself soon thinking much more deeply about the unpleasant stallion. For some reason, once the thought of him snuck into her mind, it refused to leave. It lingered there, a little dark spot in the otherwise bright future.

Reluctantly, she acknowledged that it was something she needed to deal with.

She made her way to his office. He'd been promoted a few months ago, now an assistant in city planning, and by extension, a junior member of the city council. While that meant she didn't have to deal with him directly quite so often, it had the downside of him holding actual power, even if very little. It also meant that he had his own office now, rather than a shared clerk room. That day, she found herself thankful for that for the first time. She was uncomfortable enough with the prospect of dealing with him, already; she certainly didn't want to do so where anypony might observe what happened.

Bigs was sitting back and reading over a document when she entered. When he saw her, his eyes narrowed the tiniest amount. "Yes?" he asked neutrally, belying the suspicion and distrust that he felt toward her.

Meadow couldn't bring herself to smile, given the circumstances. "I wanted to talk to you," she said as she walked up to his desk.

His emotions didn't change in the slightest. "Then talk."

Meadow refrained from frowning at his shortness. "I know we've had our disagreements in the past." She also refrained from acknowledging the snort that statement brought from him. "But I'd like to put that behind us. I'm finally at a place that I'm happy with, Bigs. Genuinely happy. I'd rather not spoil that by dragging along an old grudge that does no good to either of us."

Encouragingly, the sense of distaste from him was fading to a detached neutrality. "I don't think we could ever be friends, all things considered, but we don't need to be enemies. I'd like to propose a truce."

Bigs stared at her, his emotions surprisingly neutral.

"...No."

Meadow blinked. "What?"

"No," Bigs repeated, a thin edge of anger creeping into his voice just as it did his emotions.

"Why not?" Meadow asked, eyes narrowing.

"Because of what you said," Bigs replied, rising to his hooves. "It was all about you. How happy you are. How you don't want to ruin that. You, you, you. But you know what I didn't hear?"

He leaned over the desk, the strength of his anger rapidly swelling in her senses. "I didn't hear even a sliver of remorse for anything you've done. You don't feel sorry for anything, do you? You probably don't even think you've done anything wrong. You just don't want to face any consequences for your actions, so you come to me with some insulting farce of a truce. So no, Meadow, I'm not going to turn a blind eye to whatever backstabbing machinations you've got in mind."

"As if you're one to talk about remorse?" she shot back. "You bullied everypony who didn't kiss your hooves."

"And you twisted all of them around yours," he said. "Yeah, we were a lot alike, weren't we? And it's something I've learned to hate about my past. That's where we differ, Meadow. I actually feel bad about the things I did as a kid, and I've changed my ways. But you? You're still the same manipulative, underhooved, two-faced, stuck-up little foal you've always been.

"And you know what really amuses me? Part of the reason I outgrew that part of my life was because I didn't want to be anything so vile as you. So congratulations; you're such a horrible pony that your example makes others want to better themselves." He sat back to give a slow, mocking clap. "Bravo."

Meadow scowled. "I should have known it'd be useless to try to reason with you. You're just a petty, hypocritical foal that can't let go of the past."

"Hypocritical?" Bigs sounded somewhat indignant at that, rising to his hooves again. "What I did was petty and infantile, maybe even cruel at times. But you? You were a vicious, sadistic sociopath, and since you didn't even think to fake an apology, it seems perfectly clear that you haven't changed a bit." He snorted. "And as for not letting go of the past, it's kind of hard to forget somepony trying to kill you."

"I didn't try to kill you, Bigs," Meadow growled. "If I had, you'd be dead. You should try to remember that."

Bigs fixed her with a glare, silent for several seconds. "So we're back to that, then. All your clever little scheming and hollow words fail, so you go back to relying on threats to get your way. And that, right there, is why I'm not going to give you your selfish little truce. You're a vile, dangerous little witch that has everypony fooled right up until you slide the knife into their back, but I know what kind of pony you really--"

Meadow's hooves slammed down on his desk, cutting him off as she shoved her face in his, eyes flashing blue. "You have no idea what kind of pony I am!" she snarled, a deeper resonance entering her tone. Bigs staggered back a step, his eyes wide and face gone pale, as if he had just seen a ghost--or a monster. In an instant, every bit of anger and hatred had been blotted out by a shocked terror so strong that it brought a savage grin to Meadow's face.

"Now let me make this perfectly clear," she continued, and with one hoof shoved him in the chest, to which he, still in shock, staggered and fell back on his haunches. "After all these years, after everything I've gone through, I'm finally happy, and I am not going to let anypony get in the way of that!"

She swept a hoof to the side, knocking a stack of folders and several quills off Big's desk, the stallion flinching at the action. With that, she turned and walked toward the door, her hooves clopping angrily against the bare floor. "Remember what I said about being an 'inconvenience', Bigs."

The door slammed behind her, and she made her way down the hall. Already her legs were trembling with adrenaline. She hated this part. Every inch of her body was crying out in fury, eager to leap into action, and fighting hard against her efforts to control it. It didn't want to be calm. The adrenaline screamed for release, struggling against her efforts to be still. It wanted to run. It wanted to fight. Instead, she did her best to suppress the urge as she slipped into a nearby restroom, entered a stall, and locked the door.

Sitting there, she sucked in deep, calming breaths where nopony could see her shaking in rage. Looking down at her hooves, she felt a nearly overwhelming urge to smash them into something. She wanted to fight. She wanted to pummel Big Shot with her hooves. She wanted to squeeze his neck until she felt him go still. She wanted him dead.

But at the same time, she didn't. She couldn't. There was a practical side to that; If she did anything to him, it would come back to her. He was an annoyance rather than an actual threat, and attacking him, much less killing him, could only come crashing back down atop her.

Yet that felt like a hollow excuse. It was a convenient lie, made all the stronger for actually being true. But it was still essentially a lie. It was a secondary reason, a perfectly practical excuse to justify the decision she knew came from a much less practical source.

Spark would be horrified if she did anything remotely like that. That she might be able to hide it was no comfort. She could imagine his reaction, and just the thought of it filled her with guilt. To do such a thing would be to completely betray him. Even worse, if she did do it and he found out...

Despite that, she'd still threatened him. Even as she had said it, her words fueled by her sudden rage, she had known it was a bluff. But she'd still said it, just the same.

Eventually, the trembling slowed, and then stopped. The pounding of her heart quieted in her ears. When she again felt stable enough, she rose, exiting back into the hall.

As she stepped out of the restroom, she paused to look back down the hall to the door of Bigs's office.

I should apologize.

That seemed the pony thing to do. The more she thought of it, the more it seemed like the honest thing to do. She only had to think of Spark to regret what she had said.

He'd never believe it, though. He was right; she had lied and manipulated others so many times in the past. She'd just shown him the same side of her that she always had. She hadn't shown any remorse for anything she had done. Immediately returning to apologize would just show him exactly what he already thought of her; that she was a manipulative trickster, willing to spin any lie to get her way.

But I should still try.

She took a deep, calming breath as she looked at his door.

Then she let it out in a low sigh as she turned and walked away.

Chapter 17: Taking Flight

Chapter 17: Taking Flight

"Okay, just a little... perfect! Hold it right there!"

Spark ducked his head down, grasping a couple of cables in his mouth and pulling them up to the wing joint of his flying machine, which was being held steady in Meadow's hooves and magic. One by one, he took a cable in his hooves, routing them between the metal bars and through pulleys before tightening them in place.

"Doing good?" he asked around the cables.

"I am," Meadow replied with a smile. "I could hold this all day."

I could, too, she mused. Barely a week had passed since the return of Nightmare Moon, and she was certain that her magic had grown stronger in that time. She'd been overly cautious in her feeding, taking much less than what she knew would still be safe, but it was invigorating. It was a small change considering how cautious she was, but she was sure she was able to lift a tiny bit more and hold it a little longer. Love was a powerful thing.

A thing she had not gotten much time to enjoy until now. Her office had been swamped for days, but everything had eventually fallen into place. Ponies were situated in more lasting accommodations, rebuilding was well underway, missing ponies had finally been accounted for, and most of the injured had been released from the hospital to rejoin loved ones. As a result, when the weekend had come around, Meadow found herself with the pleasant prospect of having a full day off rather than the scant hours she had been finding between work and sleep.

Free from work and other responsibilities, she could spend a whole day with Spark. There were many things they could have done, ones that most ponies might describe as "romantic" or the like, but she wanted to do something with more meaning than the same nonsense every other pony did. And what could be more meaningful than helping him out with a project he'd been striving toward for years, one that had earned him his cutie mark?

It was nice enough to spend the time with him, but it was even better to see how happy he was.

As he attached and tightened another cable, the weight of the wing-like protrusion began to lift. By the time he was finishing, the weight was gone. It still looked weird to her; the huge fan was tilted sharply forward, with the bulb of the magically powered motor set beneath it. It was somewhat monstrous in size, with each of the half-dozen fan blades being longer than she was.

"There, that's the last one," he said happily as he dropped back down to all four hooves. "You can let go now."

She did, and the assembly slowly pivoted to level. On the opposite side of the incomplete vehicle, the other wing matched its movements. Spark let out a happy sound, beaming at what was apparently a success.

Finally, he climbed into the pilot's seat, grasped the control stick with his hoof, and pulled. Then he grunted. Then he added another hoof, leaning back, and the pair of large propellers tilted back. When he pushed forward--again, with a fair bit of effort--they tilted forward. He repeated it a few times before letting go of the stick with a groan.

Meadow approached the nose of the vehicle, crossing her forelegs across a reinforcing strut beside Spark. "Something wrong?"

"Yeah," Spark grunted. "That's way too much weight to swing with that. The fans need a lot of tilt, but there's only so much swing I can put in the stick. The leverage is just too poor to get enough responsiveness." He prodded a hoof at the control stick, though it stubbornly refused to move. "I'm going to need to set up some sort of power-assist or something. Which means either some sort of power linkage from the fan motors or adding another motor entirely."

His expression fell. "...Or hydraulics. Ugh. I don't want to have to deal with hydraulics."

Meadow raised a brow. "I take it those are bad?"

"Eh." Spark grumbled and pushed himself up from the seat to clamber up, hooking his forelegs over the inner edge of one wing to look out along it. "Hydraulics do the job, and it'd probably be easier to implement properly. But they're messy and maintenance intensive. And I've never really gotten a hydraulic system working right. Not that I've really tried that hard."

Meadow turned and sat on the side of the frame beside him, resting a hoof on his side. "Well, you're pretty good at this stuff. I'm sure you'll get it all working. Who knows, maybe you'll find a better solution."

Spark pushed one of the fan blades, putting them into a slow spin, though he looked distant. Thinking. A moment later, his ears perked up, eyes suddenly focusing on the fan. Meadow knew that look from him; it was the look of an idea forming. His hoof dropped down, catching the next blade and bringing the fan's slow spin to a halt. He gripped it and twisted, watching as it--and its siblings--all turned together. "Or maybe... maybe I don't need to tilt the fans. Maybe I can tilt the whole vehicle!"

"I'm not sure if that sounds any better," Meadow said, skeptically.

"Sure it is. Look!" He tilted the blades again. "I modified the assembly so I could control the pitch of the blades for optimal thrust. If I could modify it further... I could make the blades have different angles at different parts of their rotation so that they make more lift on one side than the other. I could throw the whole center of lift forward and back, and tilt the whole vehicle! Instead of fighting against a hundred pounds of weight and the thrust of the fans themselves, I can have that thrust work for me!"

He wrapped a foreleg around her shoulder, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. "Thanks!"

"Yep. I helped," she said with mock smugness.

Spark chuckled softly as he stepped back, looked over the vehicle for a moment, and then turned an enthusiastic grin back to her. "And you know what this means?"

She smiled. "I have no idea."

Rearing back, spark threw his forelegs into the air and cheered. "Complete rebuild!"

Meadow snickered. "I don't usually see many ponies happy about having to redo a bunch of work."

"Work, nothing," Spark countered as he hopped down, walking under the lifting fan. "This is fun, and can you imagine how great it'll be once it flies? It'll be something completely new! I spent a lot of time talking with mom and working out the math. It won't have the endurance or lifting capacity of an airship, but it'll be fast and super-agile." He placed his forehooves on the motor, looking back over the vehicle. "And now I get to make it even better! I can fix the lift fans in place, which will save weight. After that, I can move the motors back into the body and set up some sort of transmission to get the power out to the fans. It'll be a bit more work, but that stuff is simple, and moving the weight inward will improve handling. Oh yeah, this is going to be good!"

Sliding off of the hull of the vehicle, Meadow walked up to him while chuckling softly at his enthusiasm. "Well in that case, what can I do to help?"

"Could you hold this up while I unbolt it?" he asked, tapping the motor. "I need to tear down the entire wing and start from scratch."

Progress was swift, particularly with her help for the heavy lifting. By the time they stopped for the evening, the entire left-side assembly had been disassembled. Meadow slipped out while Spark put away tools and spare parts, returning with a couple of sandwiches and some drinks. They kicked back, munching on their sandwiches as they watched the sky turn orange-red with the sunset--although Spark cast a few glances back to his flying machine.

Turning back, he lightly nudged Meadow in the side. "Hey, Meadow? Thanks for all the help. I know it's not exactly fun, but it's a lot easier with an extra set of hooves helping out."

"Who said anything about it not being fun?" Meadow asked with a smile. "I might not understand all the technical stuff, but it's still quite enjoyable to see something so complex coming together. And besides..." She leaned to the side, leaning her head gently against his. "It's fun to see you so excited."

And the love flowed a little more freely when he was excited. That was always a nice touch.

Spark just chuckled softly. That was another change that made Meadow feel a bit happier; he was comfortable enough with her presence to no longer blush up the moment she said such things.

"Still, thanks," he said. "It really is a big help. You know, I'm a little jealous of you, sometimes. Your magic made everything go so much quicker today. I can't help thinking that if I had magic I'd be done with this already."

"On the other hoof, if you had wings, you wouldn't need to make a machine to fly."

Spark was silent a moment as he considered that. "Ehh, that's different. I mean, sure, then I wouldn't need a machine to fly, but that's not much of an accomplishment. An airship could still carry a lot more than me, and for a lot longer, and if all the math works out right, this thing here can probably outfly most pegasi and without tiring out." He rolled to his side to face her, a hoof reaching out to rub lightly at her chest. "Plus, I couldn't go flying with you that way."

Meadow slowly stretched out, enjoying the rubbing for a moment. "Mmm... I admit, I would miss that." Her head rolled to the side, smiling at him. "And I'm glad I can help out, even if it's so little. I'm glad I can be a part of something so important to you."

"Hey," he said, rolling over further until he was sprawled halfway atop her, nose-to-nose. "You are something important to me. This is just a nice extra."

Meadow giggled a little and planted a soft kiss on the tip of his muzzle. "That's so sweet, Spark."

She even managed to hide the instinctive embarrassment at the thought of someone seeing her being so sappy. Or more accurately, being sappy without it being an act. Sure, any pony who happened to peek in on them wouldn't be able to tell the difference, but she would. That made a difference because... because it did. Because.

She quickly spoke again, distracting herself from that train of thought. "And I really am happy that I can help out a little, even if it's just heavy lifting and holding things in place for you."

"That helps plenty," he said, nuzzling lightly. "But if you wanted to do more, I can teach you. And heck, taking things apart is easy. I need to take down the other lifting fan tomorrow. Maybe we could have you using some of the tools, tomorrow?"

Meadow lifted a hoof to her chin, tapping it thoughtfully. "Hmm... I could probably figure out which way to turn a wrench with no more than a couple tries, and I think I've finally figured out which end of the hammer to use..."

Spark snorted out a laugh. "I'm sure you'll do fine!"

"Thanks, Spark." She reached up, lightly running a hoof along his cheek.

He smiled, and then interrupted any further conversation by leaning in and delivering a long, deep kiss. Meadow wrapped her forelegs around him, enjoying the happy embrace, and savoring a tiny taste of his love. It was such a nice way to conclude a perfect day.

The rebuild took almost a month, with most of that spent on finer technical details that Meadow couldn't help much with; a full transmission system mating the two relocated motors in the body to the pair of fans--Spark was even happy that the redundancy would make the vehicle safer--and the modified rotor-hubs that had been the main point of the rebuild. Despite that, there was something wonderful about it all. Work was back to its calm, yet rewarding pace. She had spent much of her time with Spark, and not just working on his project; plenty of time had been spent chatting, spending time with his family, the occasional flight, or even just cuddling together. It was simple, yet satisfying.

Most notably, for the first time that she could think of since arriving in Equestria, she wasn't worried about something.

She wasn't worried about trying to find her way home; her home was here, now. She wasn't worried about having a purpose; her work was important to many. She wasn't even worried about her future; her life was good. It was meaningful.

And she had Spark.

She felt lighter, somehow. Uplifted. Everything just felt... right.

She was relaxing on a particularly lazy day, musing on the thought, when Spark came home with some unusual supplies.

He came staggering in the front door, hauling a large box filled with a variety of odd objects. It had a helmet and knee pads, as well as several thick mats, straps, buckles, and other odd parts. He grunted something around the mouth-full of box-edge as he hauled it in, and Meadow raised an eyebrow questioningly.

"What's all that?"

Finally releasing the box, Spark replied. "I'm making a crash-suit."

"A crash-suit?" Meadow repeated, suddenly finding something to worry about, again. "You're not expecting your machine to crash, are you?"

"Pfft, no!" Spark answered with a laugh, pushing the box further along with his forehooves. "But I didn't expect my first prototype to crash, either. It doesn't hurt to plan ahead." Then he stopped, looking thoughtful for a moment before smirking. "On the other hoof, it can hurt to not do so."

"I guess that's true," Meadow replied, still sounding a little skeptical. "But this one shouldn't crash, right?"

"Not unless I screw up," he replied. "The first one was just plain unstable. It was barely able to get off the ground and had no margin for error. This one, though? The amount of power it's got is pretty incredible, thanks to those new motors. I couldn't afford anything as high-quality as that before. That's going to make it safer, since with the new control setup, that power is how the whole thing is controlled! It's actually a pretty slick setup, if I do say so myself."

He stood taller, taking a confident stance and flashing a smug smile that Meadow was certain he had learned from her.

"So I assume it's almost ready to fly, then?"

"Yep!" he said as he started to pull items out of the box. "Got to get this all made up, then I want to do some more run-up tests to make sure all the controls are working. And then?" He flashed a grin. "Then it's time to fly!"

"I'm looking forward to it," Meadow said.

Soon Spark was checking out the various parts he'd bought, resizing a rugged bodysuit and cutting panels from the thick foam mat to act as padding. She remained silent in thought for many minutes, until finally speaking.

"Hey, Spark?"

"Hmm?" he asked, looking up from the padding he was currently sewing onto the neck of the suit.

"Could I ask you a favor?" she asked, her tone somewhat subdued.

His ears perked up, a faint sense of concern rising from him, which only made Meadow feel a little awkward. She hadn't meant to worry him, but her quieter tone likely seemed out of place after several weeks of happy enthusiasm.

"What's that?"

She offered a small smile, thankfully feeling that concern fade a touch. "I was just wondering... could you make one of those for me, too?"

Spark blinked, looking down to his partially-constructed suit, then back to her. "Well, I... this is just for test flights. I mean, when it's all done I'll know if it's safe, so we--I only need it for..."

"I know," Meadow said. "But I'd kind of like to go on those with you." Quickly, she added, "If you're okay with it."

Hesitantly, he asked, "Are you sure?"

Meadow's ears dipped unconsciously. "I-I know I might not have the best of standing to ask something like this, but... I know how important this is for you, and I'd just like to be there--"

She was interrupted by Spark throwing his forelegs around her in a tight hug. "Of course you can!" he said. "You've been putting a lot into making this happen, too, so you deserve to be there if you want. And besides..." he leaned back a little, a hint of a blush forming as he smiled to her. "I'd love for you to be there with me."

Her tension faded, though it left her feeling a little ashamed. Despite that, she smiled as she nuzzled into his neck. "You are so much better of a pony than I could ever be."

He replied by pushing a hoof firmly but playfully against her chest. "Oh, stop that," he said with a soft laugh. "We both know that's not true."

As Spark tightened the final strap buckling her into the rear seat of his flier, Meadow found herself reconsidering the wisdom of her request.

It had been easy to feel confident when working on the machine, with a potential flight being something off in the future. Little had changed. The flier had been moved only a short distance to the very middle of their backyard, but still sat there as still and silent as it usually did. That was about to change. Spark had done every bit of testing he could on the ground. All that was left was to try to actually fly the thing, and as the moment drew closer, Meadow's confidence waned.

Sure, the crash-suit was quite sturdy, if rather bulky. She could probably fall off the roof of their house while wearing it and only have the wind knocked out of her. The straps held her securely into the rear of the two seats currently installed in the vehicle, and the body of the machine formed a solid cage of reinforcing metal tubes, which Spark reassured her were designed to protect the passengers from any collision.

Even with all that, she couldn't help but feel nervous. It was new technology that had not been thoroughly tested. On top of that, she felt ashamed that she would have so little trust in Spark as to be so afraid. He had done everything he could to make this as safe as possible. Even if they did have a crash, they should be fine.

Well, a small crash. Nothing would help them if they slammed into a building at high speed, or if they fell from high altitude, or if the machine tore itself apart and sent them plummeting--

She tore herself away from her thoughts, focusing on Spark again. He was just finishing securing her. "--and you just pull on that buckle to release the whole thing. Okay, you good?"

"Perfect," she said, smiling with all the conviction she could summon.

He smiled happily and climbed into the pilot's seat, immediately in front of her own. Her own smile vanished the moment he could no longer see her, though she did manage to keep the fear she felt from showing on her face. Sure, she trusted him, but she wasn't sure if she trusted the machine. Or physics. And even though she did trust him to do his best, this was still an experimental flying machine. Spark had never actually flown this thing before. Nopony had ever flown anything like it, to her knowledge. It was a completely new and unknown thing, and she knew better than most that the most dangerous things in the world are those that are unknown.

She glanced up. The Cirrus was hovering over their house, about a hundred feet up. Naturally, Spark's adoptive parents had wanted to be there for Spark's first flight in his new machine. Sunseeker was peering over the edge, one foreleg still on the controls as he held the craft steady. Willow perched on the edge of the craft. She was often perching on ledges and railings, something of a habit to some pegasi, and was trying to look as nonchalant and relaxed as usual, but Meadow knew better. Willow was perched there ready to plunge down to help if anything went wrong. Well, try to help. If something did go wrong, there wasn't much she could do with them strapped securely into a metal cage.

Meadow had the impression that it wouldn't stop her from trying.

"Okay, I'm in," Spark called back, jarring her from her thoughts again. "Ready?"

"As ready as I'm going to be," she offered back.

Spark chuckled a little at that. "Okay then. Start it up!"

Meadow turned her head, glancing back. The heavily-padded helmet restricted her movements and vision, but she was still able to spot the large switch that Spark had shown her earlier. A faint green glow seeped out from under the padding over her horn, and a similar aura formed around the switch, pulling it over.

The motor hummed to life. It was a low, quiet hum, so very faint, yet so clear that it seemed she felt it more than heard it. She turned her head to the other side, flipping the matching switch on the other motor, and the faint hum grew slightly louder.

"They're on!" she called out, rather louder than was strictly necessary. It felt like those motors should be making more noise, particularly for how much power they had. She knew they were good--a large portion of the bits she had saved up had gone to a pony whose special talent was making the things, after all--but it was still surprising. Equestrian engineering was kind of scary.

"Okay," Spark called back. "I'm going to rev it up to test everything on the ground, first. Hold tight."

One of his forelegs moved slightly, pulling on some control, and the quiet yet tense hum deepened as the machine came to life. On both sides of her, the giant fans started to slowly spin, and as Spark pulled further on the control, they picked up speed. The soft sound of the blades passing through the air quickly grew to a hum, then a buzz, and eventually an outright roar. Meadow grit her teeth, hooves clutching at the edge of her seat as the sound grew, the vibrations penetrating all the way to her bones. The air blasted at her, the grass around the aircraft whipping in a frenzy.

A bang made her jump in her restraints, her head whipping to the side to find its source. Thankfully, nothing had gone wrong with the machine; the blast of air from the fans had simply blown the work-shed's door open.

Eventually, the sound diminished, and soon she could see the blades slowing. Once the sound had died down enough, Spark called back, "Looks like we're good!"

"Is it supposed to be that loud?" Meadow called back, trying not to sound as worried as she was.

"Oh, that's just the blade pitch. I had them flat for the ground test so we wouldn't lift up. It should be quieter when they're angled for flight." He was fiddling around with something up front for a moment before adding, "I think."

With the big lift fans still spinning, Meadow could barely see the change as the blades changed from vertical to an angle, but the change in sound was immediately noticeable. The deeper whooshing sound died away, replaced by the growing sound of the wind coming down from the fans.

"Okay!" Spark called back. "Let's see if this works!"

The sound grew as the fan's speed increased. Meadow's hooves tightened around the edge of her seat as the vehicle shifted slightly. It was all she could do; she had absolutely no control over what would happen now.

Her stomach lurched as Spark's machine abruptly came free of the ground.

The ascent was startlingly quick. It took only a couple seconds before they had risen higher than their house's roof. A few seconds more, and they were already approaching the Cirrus. Her stomach lurched again as Spark reduced power, bringing them to a hover.

A fairly unsteady hover. Already the flier was drifting to the side. The aircraft rolled sharply to the side, then back, as Spark tried to hold position. Despite the difficulty, she could hear him laugh. "This thing is a lot more nimble than I expected!" he shouted back. She didn't reply, too focused on holding on for dear life.

At least Spark was enjoying this. He turned his head every now and then, and she caught glimpses of a broad grin on his muzzle. He was having fun, particularly as he nosed the aircraft forward. With a small increase in power, it held its altitude while quickly gaining speed. It took only a few moments before they were moving as fast as an airship--which were not terribly swift fliers, after all--and soon were going quite a bit faster. She was a little curious how fast it would go if Spark really pushed it. She had the impression he was holding back. It was a test flight, after all.

After a few minutes of circling, climbs, and gentle dives, Spark seemed satisfied. He'd even grown a little bolder in some of the maneuvers, at one point turning so sharply that Meadow was pressed into her seat, the blast of air from the fans practically roaring beside them as he brought them to full power. It was a startling maneuver... but surprisingly fun.

"Well, I think we should land this thing!" Spark called back. It was her only warning before the world dropped out from beneath her.

Meadow let out a startled yelp as Spark sent them into an abrupt dive, quite a bit faster than the ones they had entered before. He was diving toward the familiar sight of their house, rolling the aircraft to the side a bit to angle them in. As the ground rushed up, he pitched the aircraft back and to the right, and Meadow was pressed into her seat again. Their horizontal speed was cut dramatically.

A strong shudder went through the right side of the aircraft as the speed bled off, and an instant later, the vehicle rolled sharply to the right. The lifting fans roared loudly as Spark tried to correct, but Meadow was lifted against her restraints as the right side plummeted. The whole world rolled around her. She heard Spark shout her name, the ground--now above them--rushed up to meet the falling vehicle, and she reached out with every ounce of magical might she had in an attempt to slow their descent.

And then the world reached up and bucked her in the chest.

For an instant, everything was confusion and motion and blurs. The first impression Meadow had was that her head felt too big, and there was a strange pressure on her chest. Then the world stilled itself. Her head hung upwards, guided by the pull of gravity to leave her staring at the shadowed grass above her. Fighting the pull of gravity and the weight of her too-large head, she looked down to the harness that was holding her there, upside down.

She groaned.

Another groan came from Spark, followed by a sudden flailing of his limbs. "M-Meadow!"

"I'm okay!" she groaned, despite still feeling rather disoriented. She looked off to the side, where one of the fans was still spinning. Beneath it was the remains of a fence, the lumber crushed and shredded by their crash. The fencepost itself had been cut clean through.

"Are you hurt?" Spark called back, and Meadow was struck by how fearful his voice was.

"I'm fine," she said. It might be stretching the definition of "fine" just a bit, but she was fairly certain she hadn't broken anything and was not in any danger at the moment. That sounded "fine."

It wasn't enough to reassure him, however. The flailing continued for a moment until he finally got the straps free and fell to the ground with a muffled "oof." He was immediately on his hooves and scrambled back to her. On seeing her, he stared for a moment, his fear clear in his expression. Then he buried his face against her chest, forelegs wrapping around her in a tight upside-down hug. "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!"

"I'm okay," she repeated, awkwardly returning the hug as best she could while hanging from the restraints. Her head was starting to feel even weirder.

Another thump sounded nearby, followed by Willow's shout. "Spark?"

Spark still had his head buried against Meadow's chest while apologizing, so Meadow called back. "We're okay."

Eventually, Spark calmed down. He had helped her down, and the two of them crawled out from under the overturned machine to survey the wreckage.

The machine itself was relatively intact. Many of the struts in the body were dented in and warped from the impact, but it had held together quite well. Several of the fan blades were mangled where they had struck the fence or dug into the ground. It was damaged, but repairable. The fence they had crashed on was destroyed, but that would be easy to replace, and the owners of the house were far more concerned with making sure they were okay than to worry about the damage to their fence.

Spark, however, had fixated on a piece of that fence: a fencepost that had been cut clean through. His ears drooped, as he stared at it in horror. It was only later that he told Meadow that he had been thinking of what would have happened if they had come down in a busy street instead of in an empty backyard.

Spark's enthusiasm was gone.

He hadn't entirely abandoned his project, but it was close enough. Sure, he spent some time discussing flight with Willow, trying to understand what had gone wrong. At that moment, they were both kicked back in the living room, while he idly poked at some math and figures he was working on, stuff related to aerodynamic lift and airflow and a bunch of other things Meadow didn't properly understand. But that was it. After righting the flying machine and hauling it back into their yard, Spark hadn't touched the thing. He'd barely even looked at it.

It had been a week.

They'd even gotten a notification from City Hall a few days after the crash. It'd been a simple notice of a new city ordinance, declaring that aircraft other than airships could not take off or land within city limits, for reasons of public safety, unless a landing field had been specifically approved by them. It hadn't named them specifically, but everypony knew why it had been announced. Meadow also hadn't missed that Big Shot was the second name on the list of city council members to approve the ordinance.

That all would have been bad enough, but there was one final detail that had made it even worse, to her: when Spark looked to her, she could feel how much he worried.

For a short time, she had found it annoying. Almost pathetic, even. He had a minor setback, and now he seemed to shy away from the project entirely. She could only think on how weak some ponies could be, how readily they give up.

It was a thought that had often brought a smug sense of satisfaction to her before, but now only made her feel guilty. It wasn't a comforting reminder of superiority. Now it was her own failure. She had chosen to align her duty and purpose with him, but the moment he had started doubting himself, she faltered, even if only in her own mind.

A memory echoed in her mind: I can protect him.

She glanced over to the fireplace. The mantelpiece had been taken by Spark to display a few items that meant the most to him, and he'd chosen three for the place. The first was the watch Meadow had given him, quietly counting away the time. Opposite that was an early toy flying machine, one of his first successes, and the one that had gotten him thinking of scaling the whole thing up.

And in the middle, in the place of honor, was a simple photograph of a familiar tan-colored unicorn, forelegs crossed over a low wall as she looked off into a sky lit with the colors of the setting sun.

Meadow thought it nicely represented his three biggest interests: intricate machinery, his quest for flight... and her.

His pursuit of one had potentially endangered another. She hadn't mistaken his reaction after the crash. He'd been so worried for her. He was still worried.

She considered that long and hard.

Maybe... I can help him.

Eventually, she rose to her hooves and slipped out.

Spark eventually came to investigate what she was doing. She had been certain he would, of course. She was making far too much noise to ignore.

He opened the back door to stare out at her as she banged on one of the flying machine's dented struts with a hard rubber mallet, a tool she'd seen him use for a similar purpose.

"Meadow? What are you doing?"

She paused in the hammering to look back to him with a smile. "Well, I'm no good with all the mechanical stuff, but I've proven myself enough with brute force that I figured I could at least straighten the frame out."

Spark stared silently for a few seconds before replying. "Meadow, you don't need to do that."

"I know," she agreed. "But I want to help."

He looked on sadly, trying to figure out what to say. When he didn't immediately reply, she added, "I know how important this is to you."

"It's not that important," he said. "Not as important as you."

"And I thank you for the sentiment," she said with a soft smile, and then tapped her hammer against the machine's frame. "But this is important to you, and that means it's important to me. So I'm going to keep working on it until it finally does fly, even if I have to do it all myself."

A wrench lifted in her magic, moving to hover just in front of Spark. "Although if you really want to keep me safe, I'd appreciate the help... because I haven't the slightest clue what I'm doing."

Spark stared at the wrench for several long seconds, an internal struggle clear in his expression. Finally, he sighed a little and reached out, taking the wrench between his teeth.

Meadow smiled a little more. "Well, let's get back to work, then!"

Spark hesitated for just a moment, and Meadow was quite satisfied to see the tiniest upward twitch of the corner of his mouth. "...You know this is the wrong wrench, right?"

Repairs had taken a full week, thanks to a few parts of the frame being so damaged that Spark insisted they be replaced rather than just hammered out, and the need to replace several fan blades. Modifications were much quicker, as nothing serious had to be changed. The problem had not been mechanical, but a matter of how he flew the machine. He had spent much time with Willow trying to understand what happened and had given a brief explanation to Meadow that she felt she mostly understood. Something about how he had flown them into the jet of downward air produced by the fans and effectively lost all lift. He seemed convinced that he could easily avoid such problems now that he was aware of it. That meant that the only substantial modification had been the cage of bars Spark had welded above each fan. He felt that the added weight was more than worth the assurance that nothing--and nopony--would end up meeting those blades.

And so, early in the morning two weeks after the short-lived first flight, they had loaded Spark's flying machine onto a borrowed cart to start the trek to the edge of town, where they could conduct another test flight.

They had chosen the early morning to ensure that the streets would be clear, so that they could haul the overloaded cart along easier. They had hardly gotten to the end of the block before Meadow was wondering if it would be enough time. Even with her magic having grown a touch stronger, it was still a surprisingly heavy load to haul along.

"You sure you've got it?" Spark asked again, keeping pace beside her. He'd tried to help haul but had given up when his efforts had made no difference at all.

"I might need a nap when we get there," Meadow admitted. "But I'll get it there."

They continued on for a minute in silence before Spark's ears perked up, and he looked back to the cart and its contents. Meadow felt a sudden chill. The "I have an idea" expression looked truly horrifying when combined with a devious grin.

She could barely feel the difference as he clambered up into the cart, while she watched out of the corner of her eye. She certainly did notice when he delivered a strong buck to the stack of wood supporting the front end of his flier, which left it canted forward once the nose slammed down against the cart.

"Spark?" Meadow called out in alarm. "What are you doing?"

He had already scrambled back to the middle of the craft, flipping the switches to turn on the motors. "Climb in, Meadow," he called out as he dropped into the pilot's seat. "Time to get this thing going!"

"What? You can't take off inside the city, Spark!" Despite her words, she was already halfway into the cart, hauling herself up.

"It's not taking off if you don't leave the ground!"

Meadow cringed as she pulled herself into the flyer, dropping into the mess of safety straps in the rear seat. "This is a bad idea!" she shouted.

"This is an awesome idea!" Spark retorted, pulling the last of his straps taut just as the fans started to speed up.

"Those are not mutually exclusive!" Meadow cried out, even as she quickly buckled herself in, all the while intensely aware that both of their crash suits were laying unoccupied in the bottom of the cart.

Spark just let out what could best be described as a manic giggle as the fans built up speed, and the cart started to roll forward under its own power.

Meadow considered it a small miracle that they made it out of town intact, and was very thankful that the early morning streets were clear. Nopony had to go diving out of the way of a speeding, buzzing, not-quite-flying machine as they tore down the road. Turning had been... interesting. Spark managed some just by the flight controls, while others she was certain they only made because of her magically grabbing one of the wheels. Even then, they nearly tipped over the cart several times on the way there.

She did have to admit it was quite a bit faster than hauling it, however.

After such a dramatic start, the rest of the day was almost sedate by comparison. The machine performed flawlessly. Spark was more careful about how he maneuvered--saying something about a "flight envelope"--and it went without a hitch. By the time they came down a couple hours later, Spark was overjoyed.

Over the coming weeks, more flights were conducted. Small tweaks were made, the craft's maneuverability was tested, and more. The most frightening had been when Spark had intentionally brought the aircraft into the same state that had resulted in them crashing, but at much higher altitude. Armed with the knowledge from his own studies and Willow's input, and a calm hoof on the controls, the sudden drop had hardly started before he "slid" the aircraft out of the plunge and into stable flight.

He even stuck one of the older, weaker motors into a cart to provide a slightly less harrowing method of propelling the flyer out of town, an addition Meadow was most thankful for.

Then came the final touches. Over a couple weeks, Spark enclosed the exposed mechanisms with a metal shroud, while more plates converted the exposed metal frame of the body into a sleek, aerodynamic shell. He even painted it in a fiery orange that matched his mane quite well, except for the fan blades which were painted black.

"It looks great," Meadow observed as they stood back, looking proudly over the finished machine. It was then that she noticed a new detail he had snuck in; on the side of the vehicle's nose, in a brilliant green paint, he had given it a name.

"Songbird?"

His ears twitched, an embarrassed smile coming to his lips. "Well... bird because it flies, and song because..."

She didn't say anything. She just smiled, leaning lightly into his side.

Pulling the last strap of the trim, silver-gray dress into place, Meadow turned to observe herself in the mirror. Her mane and tail were perfectly styled. Her coat was meticulously groomed and smooth. Her hooves were polished and glossy. And the sleek and slightly suggestive dress accented her form as perfectly as it did when she had first bought it, so long ago.

Oh yeah, I look good! she thought with a satisfied smile. A moment later that smile faltered slightly. ...for a pony.

"Wow," Spark said from the doorway, to which Meadow immediately felt a blush trying to make itself known. She glanced back to see him dressed up in a simple suit. It still took her a moment to get used to seeing him dressed up like that.

He chuckled nervously. "Well, at least I won't have to worry about looking out of place," he said. "I think every eye there is going to be fixed on you, I doubt they'll even look at me."

She let out a soft laugh. "Oh, please. We're going to a gathering of a bunch of flight enthusiasts, engineers, and business-ponies. You're going there with an incredible new flying machine unlike anything anypony has ever made. An amazing new feat of engineering. I'm going there with a simple piece of fabric. You're going to be the center of attention."

"Maybe," he admitted. "But you make that piece of fabric look incredible."

"Flatterer," she quipped, teasingly flicking him with her tail as she walked over to her dresser and the jewelry box set atop it. A necklace seemed appropriate.

"Still, I don't want to be the center of attention. This party thing is supposed to be some big opportunity for my parents. They could get business from all over Equestria if tonight goes well. I don't want to distract ponies from that with my own stuff."

She glanced back, smirking a little. "Spark, isn't that exactly why they invited us along? Specifically so your machine could get more attention?"

"Well... yeah. But still..."

"Don't worry about it. This is your day. The opportunity to get you and your machine the attention it deserves." Meadow said with a chuckle. "Besides, I'm sure having their son accomplish such a great thing is going to shine well on them, anyway. You'll probably help them out even more just by being there."

"I guess," Spark replied, though he still didn't sound entirely convinced.

Meadow picked out the emerald necklace Spark had gotten for her; it was still her favorite out of the admittedly small collection. She was starting to levitate it toward herself when she stopped, eyes turning to another object sitting beside the jewelry box. After a moment, she set the necklace back, a smile growing as she instead picked up the little compass, which gleamed in the light as it turned on its simple string loop.

Beside her, Spark snickered softly. "You can't wear that to a formal party."

"And why not?" She countered with a playful smirk. "I can wear whatever I please, and there's nothing those stodgy, stuck up old ponies can do about it."

Spark was clearly trying to hold back a chuckle at her statement. "Okay, that's true," he managed to say. "But why that?"

Meadow paused. Bringing the compass up to look at it, she stared thoughtfully, her smile slowly fading. "...Because it means a lot to me."

Spark raised a brow to that but didn't say anything.

"It belonged to my mother," she said. "It's the only thing I have of hers." The only thing I have left to connect me to my hive.

She frowned a little, setting it down on her hoof to hold between them. "I almost ruined it. I'd been careless, and I crushed it. I tried my best to fix it, but it wasn't good enough. It was all... dented, twisted, and dirty."

The smile started to return. "And then you came along. You fixed it up. You took what I almost ruined, and made it better than ever."

Then she leaned in to softly nuzzle against Spark's cheek. "...Just like you've done for me."

He blushed softly, returning the nuzzles. The silence held for several seconds before Meadow made an exaggerated sigh. "...And that was disgustingly sappy, particularly from me," she said flatly, prompting a snort and laughter from Spark.

After the laughter had died down, and after a few more soft nuzzles, Spark's attention returned to the necklace... and she noted the familiar perking of his ears. "You know, if you're going to wear that... could I see it for a minute?"

Meadow hesitated. She had no idea what he might be planning, after all, but she still trusted him. She held it out to him, and he took it in his hooves, looking it over briefly. After that, he clutched the string in his teeth as he trotted over to her jewelry box and plucked out the emerald necklace, then to his own assortment of random junk to pull out a long piece of wire and a couple random tools--he probably had a half-dozen full tool sets scattered around various locations on their property by now--and deposited them all on the bed. He plopped down on the bed as well, strategically placing himself to block Meadow's view of what he was doing, much to her annoyance.

Just a minute later, he turned back to her, the compass dangling not from its string, but from a fine golden chain. A smile slowly formed on her muzzle as she took the necklace in her magic and slipped it on. She lifted a hoof to hold the compass up, looking closely at it. The simple little thing had been made cheaply, and as a result, the hole for hanging it was flush with the base; it was no problem for a string, flexible enough to leave the compass laying flat despite the odd angle, but it would have probably looked odd on the golden chain. Spark had solved that quite cleverly with a bit of wire looped through the hole to form a second loop, this time at the correct angle, so it would lay flat without twisting the chain. The wire was even curled neat and symmetrically, almost stylish in a way.

"It's perfect," she said, to which Spark leaned in and placed a kiss on her cheek before happily trotting off.

She stared at it for a few more seconds before frowning slightly. "Seriously, though. How do you do that with hooves?"

"Lots of practice!" he called back. She just chuckled, then let the necklace drop into place and followed him.

Chapter 18: Impossible Things

Chapter 18: Impossible Things

Ponies are weird.

Somehow, Meadow had gotten used to that. Mostly. She had accepted it. It was just something that happened; the grass grew, the birds flew, the sun shined, ponies were crazy. It had gotten to the point where she just calmly accepted it with fairly little fuss. If nothing else, it kept things interesting, in the best and worst sense of the word.

It wasn't that she needed something to make life better. She had everything she needed: a home, a purpose, and enough love to feed a whole herd of changelings. Spark had received some well-earned praise for his flying machine when he demonstrated it, and that made Meadow feel rather proud of herself, as if she had accomplished something. Then there were the various diversions. Meals and outings with Spark's adoptive parents were the most common, but Meadow's favorites were the flights. Sometimes they were for the fun and excitement of flying, while others were simply to enjoy some time alone together.

So while life was already very nice, somehow the usual pony craziness managed to make it a little better. Meadow still occasionally found herself thinking she had gone as insane as they had, but it kept things interesting. Life around ponies could never be dull, and it meant she always had something to do at work. Fortunately, nothing nearly as disastrous as the return of Nightmare Moon had loomed up, leaving Meadow to at least find some amusement in the strangeness of ponies even as they figuratively turned the world upside down around her.

Right up until she opened her door one fall morning, little over a year after that long night, to see that they had somehow managed to make that figurative statement literal.

Meadow just stood there, staring out the doorway in disbelief. The sky extended out below her, peppered here and there with purple clouds that sent columns of muddy-looking rain upward. Far above her was the ground, the city sprawling out into the distance; or at least, the portions of the city that were not currently floating several hundred feet above--or was that below?--the ground. Many buildings were currently floating at different altitudes, and Meadow was distantly annoyed to note that several had maintained their correct orientation. A few sections of road had even followed them, leaving precariously narrow and frighteningly thin strips to connect various houses.

She had no such luck; the porch just ended, leaving nothing but sky past the steps. Not that she would trust such a questionable surface as a floating path, but it still seemed... unfair.

Though a very tiny part of her mind did find it somewhat comforting, and possibly a little amusing, that she seemed to be faring better than the filly in the house across what should have been the street. She was looking mournfully out the window at Meadow, while her home slowly turned end-over-end around her.

In the end, Meadow did the only rational thing she could do.

She stepped back, shut the door, and sat back against it. Then she proceeded to stare at the opposite wall for several minutes as she tried to make some sort of sense out of what she saw outside.

Sadly, the most rational explanation she could come up with was that she had somehow contracted whatever insanity infected all the ponies around her. It was complete nonsense, of course, yet it still made more sense than what was going on.

Eventually, she stood and trotted into the kitchen, where Spark was still finishing up breakfast.

"So, I think we'll stay home today."

Spark looked up from his toast. "Can't. I've got work. That stupidly big ship we're working on still needs a lot done on it, and Dad needs everypony that can help out."

Meadow smiled nervously. "I'm pretty sure they're not doing any work today."

That drew out a short pause. "Why?"

"Um... well, I'm not quite certain how I could describe--"

And then everything went dark.

"Oh, come on!" Meadow groaned, followed by her horn lighting up. She tried to follow it up with a reassuring smile, but she was pretty sure it came out as a grimace.

Spark was wide-eyed, looking around for a moment before his eyes locked on Meadow. Surprisingly, he stayed mostly calm, only a small hint of fear in his voice instead of an all-consuming panic. "W-what's going on?"

"I... don't know."

He shakily stood up, the remnants of his breakfast forgotten. "Do... do you think Luna--"

"No," Meadow cut in, shaking her head. "This is something different."

"Then... what is it?"

Meadow stood silently for a few seconds before letting out a sigh. "You should probably see this yourself. It's a lot easier than explaining it..."

They stood silently on the back porch, which was once again fully lit by the sun. Any fears of "eternal night" were banished when the untimely night lasted all of three minutes. It was a small comfort, yet rather insignificant compared to the inverted world and floating buildings.

Spark was still staring at their backyard, with the shed and flying machine neatly enclosed by a fence. The whole thing was floating some fifty feet away on a separate island of floating dirt.

"Huh."

Meadow made a sound halfway between a strangled laugh and a groan at Spark's decidedly understated summary of the situation. She sat, massaging her temples with a pair of hooves. "This just... this is too weird."

"Well," Spark said hesitantly, still eying the separated back yard. "At least we're okay?"

Meadow slowly let her hooves fall, then looked at the house, then straight up at the ground far above. "We're hanging from the underside of a floating building. I don't know if I should be more worried about falling down into the sky or up into the ground. I'm not sure if I'd go so far as to say we're 'okay.'"

"...Okay-ish?"

She snorted softly. "Yeah, I guess I can go with that."

A loud thump directly beneath their hooves made them both jump; Meadow followed this by a moment of panicked flailing at the sudden vertigo of jumping "up" toward the ground, but thankfully her hooves landed back on the porch just as a voice called out from below them.

"Spark? Meadow? Are you okay?"

The sight of Willow Leaf peering up from under the porch was bizarre enough to make Meadow snort out a chuckle. The pegasus was standing directly opposite them on the underside of the porch as if it was the top.

Which by her perspective, it was. Meadow fought the urge to grab onto the railing of the porch for fear of her recognition of this reminding the ground of the pull it was supposed to have on her, but her hooves stayed firmly planted on the upturned porch. "I-I think we settled on 'okay-ish,'" she replied.

Willow let out a nervous chuckle. "Thank Celestia for that. I was so worried. Everything's gone so crazy!"

Great. When a pony complains that things have gotten crazy, you know you're in trouble.

Willow stepped off the porch, turning to hover right in front of them. Even having had several minutes to get used to the world being upside down, it was still incredibly strange to see her hovering completely inverted from their own position. She caught Willow tilting her head to the side as she looked at them, then quickly snapping back to upright. "Well, um... I had been planning on helping you two get down to the ground, but... I have no idea what that would do, now."

"That would probably just give us further to fall," Meadow said dryly, giving a timid glance over the edge of the porch.

"You and dad are okay, then?" Spark asked.

"We're fine, don't worry about us," Willow replied, giving a strained smile. "He's helping ferry ponies stranded in floating buildings back to safe ground, though the syrup rain is making it a little difficult. I was going to help, but I just had to find you two first. Are you sure everything is fine here?"

Meadow did her best to ignore the weather comment she had surely misheard and hesitantly looked up. "As long as gravity doesn't remember how it's supposed to work, sure."

"M-maybe we should go back inside," Spark said, trying to keep his eyes focused on Willow and not the ground far above. "That seems safer. I mean, unless the whole house decides to fall down, too." He ended the sentence by clamping his mouth shut, his expression clearly stating "this is not helping."

Willow frowned. "Maybe I could help you down? It might be safer if you're in our apartment, closer to the ground?" A faint smirk started to grow. "Even if you're stuck walking on the ceiling."

"Y-yeah," Spark said, nodding. "That sounds much better."

"Okay, I can do that," Willow replied with a nod. "Let's... let's try..."

It was an awkward affair as Willow and Spark clutched each other. Her wings beat awkwardly as she tried to keep herself righted while Spark clutched to her, trying to fall in the opposite direction. This was made all the more awkward for how close they were in weight; Willow was quite athletic but trim, and so likely weighed about average for a mare, but Spark was certainly on the small and light side for a stallion. As a result, Willow had to be careful while beating her wings to stay stable, as even a tiny bit of lift was enough to make their roughly-counterbalanced weight start floating upward.

"This is like trying to fly while holding down a giant balloon!" Willow had grunted, while Meadow found herself torn between horror and hilarity at the awkward pair.

Hilarity won when Willow lost her balance and the pair of them flipped upside-down, leaving Meadow laughing in near hysterics as the disgruntled tangle drifted slowly toward the ground.

Meadow felt a little bad for laughing when it was her turn. As it turned out, what was hilarious to watch was rather terrifying to do, at least to somepony without wings. The terror diminished rather quickly when she decided that things had gone so weird that she could probably wave off spontaneous wing-growth as being less strange than flying upside-down houses. Still, it made her feel bad for laughing at Spark, though he seemed to not mind. Or at least, he was laughing just as much when Willow awkwardly hauled her into the apartment and released, the two of them flopping onto a couch and the bare ceiling, respectively.

From there, things were surprisingly calm. While it was completely bizarre and even a little absurd, it was fairly quiet in the apartment. It could almost pass for normal, if not for exchanging day and night every few minutes, or having to climb over the top of doorways to get to the next room. The weirdest it got was when Meadow got a glass of water and had to drink it while holding the cup upside-down to keep from spilling the liquid. Feeling it pooling at the top of her mouth was strange enough. The odd sensation of it pressing up in her stomach was even weirder.

She refrained from drinking or eating anything else. Such a strange feeling likely wouldn't lend itself well to comfort, and she rather dreaded finding out what would happen when it came back out.

Otherwise, things were fairly uneventful. It seemed like a complete contradiction to have the world outside gone so wrong, and yet be relatively normal inside that apartment.

I've been spending way too much time around ponies, she thought with a small frown, if this can in any way be described as “normal.”

They sat and waited, surprised at how little there was to do when stuck on the ceiling of an apartment. Fortunately, they didn't have to wait too long.

Only a few hours after arriving, Meadow felt something. It reminded her most of the feeling in the air whenever they powered up the Songbird's motors: a faint and almost electrical tension that filled the air, just on the edge of perception. She looked around just as a brilliant white flash lit the drawn curtains.

It was the only warning they got before a wave of light shot through the room. Meadow reflexively cringed back, a hoof rising to shield her face even as she started to move toward Spark. For an instant, she could feel something, a presence, almost like emotional energy, but so vastly more powerful. Too powerful to properly sense and comprehend. It was as if she were at the center of the entire universe's attention, and for a moment she couldn't help but feel that it was judging her... and that the universe did not approve of what it found.

An instant later, everything seemed right.

She couldn't put words to it, not properly. For a single instant, the entire world felt at peace. Everything was calm, everything was peaceful, everything was exactly as it should be. There was no other way to put it: The world just felt... right.

She blinked.

She was sitting on the couch. Across from her, Spark was sitting in a chair, also blinking his eyes. They were back on the ground. Despite the sudden shock, her heart was beating calmly, her breaths slow and steady. Whatever powerful sensation had just washed over them had completely vanished without a trace.

The entire strangeness of the day had vanished as quickly as it had come, leaving the world with no more lingering effect than a vivid dream. Outside, everything was restored. No more flying buildings, no more weird weather. There was no sign at all that anything weird had happened except for the look of the ponies wandering around, that momentary period of shock and wonder that would swiftly lead into jubilation at having survived another calamity.

After Willow and Sunseeker returned to double-check that yes, they were safe and sound, Spark and Meadow returned home. It was right where it should be, firmly planted on the ground as if it had never been anywhere else.

Meadow even made her way to City Hall, only to find the dullest day of work she had ever experienced. Literally nothing was wrong. A few ponies had gotten minor scrapes and bruises during the chaos, but those had all vanished along with the rest of the insanity. She and Charity spent a few hours looking for anypony who needed help before eventually shrugging and giving up. It was as if whatever disaster had occurred had never happened, some shared hallucination rather than the world falling into chaos.

It was only the next day that they knew for certain what had happened. Some strange creature named Discord had decided to make Equestria his plaything, possibly as revenge for its Princesses having entombed him in stone for a millennium. He'd gone on something of a rampage before being defeated, apparently deciding that these ponies didn't make the world chaotic enough on their own. The sudden magic that had ended it was from the same magical artifacts that had defeated Nightmare Moon just a year prior, yet again wielded by the Princess's protégé and her friends.

As interesting and outright bizarre as it was, Meadow tried to put it out of mind. The whole thing had just been so strange that she wanted nothing more to do with it, even if that meant mimicking the ponies who carried on as if nothing too unusual had happened. If nothing else, she could take comfort in knowing that there was no way that anything could be more freakishly bizarre, insane, or incomprehensible than some deity-like being of pure chaos making the world his plaything.

It took the universe just over half a year to prove her utterly wrong.

The day started normal enough. A nice, late-spring morning, calm and peaceful. Meadow had a quick breakfast while chatting with Spark, finishing up with a kiss before heading off for work. The air was still cool but promised to warm nicely as the day went on. It was a pleasant morning, and she trotted along with a spring in her step. A smile crossed her face as she thought of their kiss and the lingering taste of love.

She was almost to City Hall when she noticed the anxious pair of ponies talking in hushed tones as she passed them on the street. At first, she disregarded it; after all, it was a private conversation, none of her business, and likely nothing she could benefit from anyway. Then she noted another couple behaving much the same way, and a small group. When she turned the final corner to see the crowd near the steps of City Hall, it was obvious that something significant had occurred. The newsstand there was practically swarmed in ponies.

Giving the crowd a wary look, she started to trot around it, making a note to ask Charity what was going on. At least, that was the plan before the pony running the stand finished the sale he was making and called out. "Canterlot Invaded! Read about it here!"

Meadow came to a halt, looking over as if to confirm that she had heard that properly. Canterlot? Invaded? The idea struck her as absurd. After all, it was the heart of a sprawling, mighty kingdom, the seat of two beings of incredible power, home to the Royal Guard, and situated on immensely defensible terrain. To even attempt such an attack seemed like insanity. The idea was so preposterous that it would be easy to dismiss if not for the serious expression of many of the ponies as they read their freshly bought papers. Those faces made the case that logic could not.

After a moment of hesitation, she turned and approached the stand. As she slipped past a couple ponies, she could finally see the papers on display.

And her brain simply stopped. For several seconds, she simply stared, mouth hanging ever so slightly open. She didn't move. She didn't blink. She didn't even breathe. She simply stared at the headline, unable to properly process what she saw.

CHANGELING INVASION REPULSED!

It was simply wrong. It didn't make sense. The individual words made sense, the grammar was correct, but together they made for such an impossible and incomprehensible arrangement that her mind simply rejected every single possible interpretation. It was nonsense. It was wrong.

Changelings don't invade. Changelings don't reveal themselves to ponies. Changelings don't even exist to ponies. It was completely impossible for that sentence to exist.

She stared numbly at the words, which stubbornly refused to acknowledge her logic. Instead, they simply sat there, staring back at her. Her brain struggled to comprehend what that sentence could possibly mean when her eyes finally drifted down to the picture below them.

It was faintly blurred and off-kilter, as if taken by somepony who was more concerned with their own safety than with the quality of the photograph, but it struck her as clearly as if she had seen it with her own eyes. Any changeling from the hive would immediately recognize that scene: a pair of drones hovering beside the Queen herself, forelegs raised in victory. Even after so many years, it was a sight Meadow could never mistake. Her Queen, rising up gloriously... shown on the front page for every pony in Equestria to see.

She shuddered, overwhelmed with the sheer wrongness of it all. She paused, stepped back, paused again. Her brain slowly struggled to come back to speed, to make sense of it all.

A pair of eyes were fixed on her. Something about that caught her muddled mind's attention, her head turning slightly to look back.

Bigs stared at her with wide eyes, his expression full of shock; an expression that she numbly realized mirrored her own. He simply stood there, frozen in a fear that she could taste.

And then, creeping up behind that fear, there was anger. His jaw slowly tensed, expression tightening. Then he tore himself away from her stare and broke into a gallop.

The action snapped her mind into focus. Instinct demanded action, and her brain quickly took up the task.

I can kill him.

It would be easy. She was already turning to the nearby alleyway. Once there it would be simple to fire-portal to the next alley, ahead of where he was running. A quick, piercing bolt of magic through the side of his chest would end him instantly, and he'd never see the ambush coming from such an unexpected angle. She could even take a different form to ensure that nopony would see her killing him.

All those thoughts flashed through her mind and were dismissed in an instant. She couldn't do that. Even with the incomprehensible insanity of what was happening, that thought rattled around her mind: she couldn't kill him. Practical excuses flashed through her mind, pointing out that it would only delay the inevitable; a murder would bring an intense investigation, and being a long-time rival, she would be the most natural place to start looking. At the same time, she knew it didn't matter. She only had to imagine Spark's reaction if he ever found out, and she knew she couldn't do it.

Spark.

Hooves skittered on the cobblestone as she turned into the alley. She hopped, her horn lighting up, a flicker of green fire flashing in a circle on the ground ahead of her. Her hooves came down, and then kept going as the fire enveloped her. The world lurched and spun around her as she pulled two points in space together for a single instant, and then she was through. She emerged from the flames to tumble to a stop in the middle of her living room.

In an instant, she was back on her hooves.

"Spark!"

There was no answer. She looked into the kitchen, rushed up the stairs, peered out into the backyard, calling out his name as she went, but he was nowhere to be found.

I can't stay here! Bigs was running with a purpose, and it was easy to guess what that was: the Guard. He'd tell them about her, and then they would come straight here. She couldn't have long. Once he convinced the Guard of what he knew, which probably would not take long, it would only be a few minutes before they would be at her door.

With a quiet, anguished whine, she turned to her dresser. Saddlebags floated up in her magic, and she quickly crammed several belongings into it. Clothes, some jewelry, anything she could grab quickly and easily. The only item she consciously reached for was her compass; she was not going to leave that behind, ever.

As soon as she had finished, she paused, then quickly repeated the process with Spark's saddlebags, making sure to get a fair assortment of tools included.

She had to get out of here, and if he came with her then maybe, just maybe, she might be able to work it all out. She didn't know how, but... maybe with some time she could figure something out.

Heading downstairs, she went into the kitchen, pulling out several items of food to stuff into the bags. There was no telling what the situation was going to be once they'd left, so it was best to be prepared.

The sound of the front door opening made her jump, a cold shock running through her. She ran to the doorway, just in time to see Spark stepping in and closing the door.

"Spark!"

His reply turned into a surprised grunt when she hugged him tightly. He actually chuckled slightly at the enthusiasm.

When she released, she could feel the touch of concern starting to creep into his emotions. She tried to forestall it with a small smile, though she had the feeling it looked somewhat awkward. "We... we need to go."

One of his eyebrows quirked up. "Go? Why, what's up?"

"I'll explain when we get there," she said, levitating their saddlebags out.

"Um... okay," he said, fortunately sounding more curious than concerned.

As he put his bags on--rather too slowly and casually for her tastes--she peered out the window. There was no sign of guards rushing to their house, but she knew they would be coming soon. In fact, if they didn't leave quickly, they'd probably run into them on the streets, and then...

She shook her head, then turned to Spark, pushing her shoulder against his side to get him moving. "Come on. Let's go out the back."

"Uh, y-yeah," he said, staggering along for a couple of steps before getting his hooves under him and trotting along with her. There was no time to waste.

Meadow opened the back door and hopped off the porch, hissing back, "We've got to hurry!"

That dubious expression was returning, more troubling than before, but he picked up the pace to keep up. She trotted up to the gate in their backyard, leading to a side street. As she reached it, she paused a moment to consider Songbird, parked nearby.

Too flashy, she thought a moment later. There was no way they'd avoid attention in that, and Spark was moving too slowly and hesitantly to rely on him for their escape. Sadly, she had yet to learn to fly the thing. She cast it from her mind, instead peering out over the gate. The street looked clear.

Throwing open the gate, she broke into a swift trot, casting a glance back to make sure Spark followed. His expression was full of concern, but he was still there, following her.

"Meadow?"

She kept going. A couple houses down was an alleyway. She took the corner and continued on until she heard him call out again.

"Meadow!"

She came to a halt, head whipping around to look behind her. Spark had slowed and stopped just inside the alleyway. His expression had gone well past concern. "W-what's going on?"

"Spark, come on," she replied, straining to keep her own tension from her voice. "We... we have to..."

She trailed off, staring back at him as they both panted, breathing much harder than the short trot would have demanded. The feeling coming from him cut into her.

He's scared.

I'm scaring him.

Her ears drooped as she stared back at him. Everything was messed up. Everything was going wrong. It was all spinning well out of her ability to control. Hopelessness and failure loomed. Bigs knew. Soon other ponies would know. Eventually, that knowledge would reach Spark.

But there was still one thing she could control.

Her voice came out strained and weak. "...I have to go."

Spark's ears twitched. "What? But... why?"

"Please, Spark," she pleaded. Every single instinct and fear screamed against her, but she continued on. "If you come with me to somewhere safe, I'll... I'll explain everything."

The fear for her was still as strong as ever. "Are you in trouble?"

Meadow winced. "...Yes."

His eyes widened, his body tightening up at that one word. "W-what? Why?"

She glanced around, mulling over her options. None of them were good, and those choices were quickly running out; they both looked back when they heard shouts from their home, one pony calling Spark's name.

When she looked back to Spark, the decision was made. She might not be able to control much of what was happening now, but she could control this. With a faint shudder, she forced herself to speak. "Did you hear about what happened in Canterlot?"

Spark blinked, the gears in his mind clearly going to work already. "What, the changeling attack?" Meadow winced, but he didn't seem to notice. "Only what was in the paper. I was talking with the neighbors about it a couple of minutes ago, but... why?"

Meadow swallowed. "And what did it say about the... the changelings?"

Spark paused a moment, looking off in thought as he recalled that part of the story. "...They're some sort of weird bug-pony creatures that suck the love out of ponies for food, and can shape-change themselves to look like loved--"

He halted, eyes widening suddenly. Then he looked back to her, expression questioning.

She swallowed and gave a faint nod.

Spark blinked at the silent confirmation. She knew he was smart enough to realize what she was saying, but recognition and acceptance were two completely different things. "Y-you... but you... that can't..."

She just nodded once again, more firmly.

For a moment he was silent, mouth working wordlessly for a few moments before going still. Then his expression hardened, body tensing. And there, in the background of his thoughts, anger started to grow. "A-and Meadow?"

Meadow flinched as if struck, quickly raising a hoof to wave off the question. "Oh, no. No! I am Meadow. I always have been, ever since the day we met at the orphanage, I swear it."

He stood rigidly for several seconds, the only sound being that of more shouts from their home. Then his ears drooped a little. His stance weakened as he drooped. His voice came out quietly "So, all of this... I'm just... food?"

"N-no!" Meadow said, shaking her head, but a guilty feeling quickly rose up. "I... I mean, at first, maybe. I was alone and scared. I needed some sort of affection to survive, and you were the most friendly, so... so I kept you around. I didn’t know what else to do. But then I s-started..."

Her words died on her lips at the sudden surge of shock and horror from Spark. His wide eyes, previously darting about in little jumps as he absorbed what she was saying, were now fixed squarely on her. "...It was you?"

She tried to speak, but the words wouldn't come. Instead, he continued on. "It was you. Every time a couple came to adopt, I got sick. I thought it was because of nerves, but... that was what you said. It was you?"

Her throat tightened as if it were trying to strangle her from within. Her voice barely reached above a whisper. "I'm sorry."

Spark staggered back, then fell to his haunches. No words came, only a stunned expression, his emotions in a depressed jumble. Meadow took a step forward, wanting nothing more than to comfort him, but halted as the gesture made him flinch back. She blinked, tearing up at the feelings radiating from him.

"...Spark."

He winced again, closing his eyes and turning away, as if afraid to look at her. His breath caught several times, his eyes watering.

Meadow trembled, and her voice wavered. "I love you."

More shouts echoed from down the street, along with the sound of hooves on cobblestone. Spark's eyes finally crept open as he looked back. His voice was faint, distant, almost devoid of emotion despite the turmoil she could feel in him. "The guards are coming. They're calling for me."

Meadow stood silently, her eyes pleading.

"You... you have to go?"

A nod.

"Then... just..." Spark's voice caught. He could barely continue on. "P-please just go. Before they get here."

A coldness gripped at her gut. She looked at him as if pleading for something else, but he didn't lift his gaze to meet hers. She sagged, eyes slowly falling to her hooves.

Meadow drew in a deep, ragged breath. Then she raised her horn again, its length lighting up in brilliant green, similarly hued flames flaring up in a circle around her. As they rose, she cast a glance back to Spark, who sat shuddering, tears starting to roll freely down his cheeks.

"I'm sorry," she said, just before the flames obscured her view, and the world moved around her.

On a hill just outside Manechester, a ring of green fire flickered to life. A moment later it surged up like a bubble broaching the surface of a lake. The flame flicked away as if the bubble had burst, leaving no trace of their presence save for a light-brown unicorn.

She turned on unsteady hooves to look back at the town, wavering for a moment before her legs gave out. She sank down to the ground in a disheveled heap, her shoulders shaking as she sobbed.

"I'm so sorry..."

Chapter 19: Sympathy for Prey

Chapter 19: Sympathy for Prey

Nictis slowly plodded down the bare dirt road.

No. That was wrong...

His eyes were cast down at the ground, and each step brought a silver-gray hoof into view as it rose up, dropped heavily to the ground, and passed down out of sight again. He wasn't really him. Each step, each flash of gray, was another reminder. He was someone else now, but not the "someone else" he was used to.

Meadow was dead.

The final blow had come that morning when he had arrived in Hoofington, weary from a long day of numb traveling. Even with everything falling apart around him, there had been a sliver of hope left, but a glance at the passing newsstand on the way through town had destroyed it. There were three pictures on the front page. Two he did not recognize, but the third he knew intimately: the picture of Meadow in Canterlot, lit by the sunset. It hurt to see a picture with such happy memories now used as a warning to other ponies, as if it defiled the entire memory of that moment and what had followed. As if that happy moment now existed only to mock him, to show what he could never have. He could never be Meadow again.

He had changed his appearance, naturally. His new look was simple, a silver-gray coat with a purple mane and tail, with a build much closer to average for a mare. He'd changed to a pegasus the previous day for traveling, but had since returned to the more familiar form of a unicorn. Even the cutie mark was the same. He'd put more thought into it later, but he couldn't muster up the energy to do so yet. He hadn't even thought up a new name, much less a background. It was a glaring vulnerability, and yet, he couldn't bring himself to care. What he had wasn't a proper disguise. It was just a thin shell, nothing more.

He wasn't himself, but he wasn't somepony else, either. It was a confused state, somewhere in between.

Fortunately, the lack of a proper disguise and background hadn't caused any issues. Ponies just saw a weary, sad-looking mare, and she hadn't drawn any suspicion. A few ponies had been curious why "she" was so sad, seemingly wanting to cheer up a distressed pony, but they had been bypassed easily enough; as much as those ponies wanted to help somepony so downcast, they couldn't just force themselves upon somepony to do so.

He continued on, doing his best to ignore everypony around him. The center of town soon made way to sparser territory, fields lining one side of the road, with scattered houses on the opposite. There were fewer ponies out here than in the center of the little town, but it didn't stop them from gathering and discussing the news which, despite being a day older by now, had still not died down. Another crowd was grouped up near the fence of one of the fields. The only one familiar to him was Red Ridge, who was telling a story that had clearly been repeated far too many times to avoid embellishment.

"--like a meteor or somethin', smashin' right through the roof," he was saying in an exaggerated tone that nearly made Nictis wince for how clearly it said, "I'm lying my flank off." Not that any of the other ponies seemed to notice, as they were eating up his words.

"So I rush out to the barn, and throw open the doors, and BAM!" He clopped his hooves together. "This surge of green fire comes blasting out, knocked me clean off my hooves. Whole barn's lit up in a giant inferno. Well, so I go runnin' over to the well ta grab a bucket--"

Nictis tuned out the rest of what the pony was saying as he walked by, his eyes instead looking over the damaged barn a short distance back from the road. A ragged hole punctured the roof, with splintered planks hanging loose, and a good half of the structure was scorched. While he hadn't read any of the papers describing the... events in Canterlot, there had been plenty of ponies all around discussing it, and it made it perfectly clear what had happened. Some changeling, blasted out of the royal city, had come crashing down on the farmer's barn. The flames would provide a perfect distraction, occupying the farmer's attention while the changeling slipped away. A perfect diversion and evasion.

Assuming the changeling hadn't immolated itself to avoid discovery. He sincerely hoped that wasn't the case. Preserving their secret was all important, but... but clearly, that was no longer possible. Hopefully whatever changeling had crashed there had realized this, and considered his escape as more important than ensuring he wasn't detected.

Unless he was injured, and couldn't escape. What would happen--

Nictis shook his head, again focusing on the dirt road passing beneath him as he walked. He didn't want to think about that. He didn't want to think about anything.

He followed the familiar road, only finally looking up as a particular house came into view.

Why did I come here?

He could perfectly imagine Misty Dawn and Gray Oak as they went about their morning. She remembered the routine perfectly. By now Gray would have gotten the day's paper. He'd see that picture of Meadow, and he'd know what that seemingly nice pony really was. There wasn't anything for Nictis here.

But he already knew that, even if he hadn't consciously acknowledged it. Word would reach them eventually, after all. No, he hadn't come to stay here. At most, he had come to get one last glimpse of what had been. A small concession to nostalgia before leaving it all behind for good.

He tore his eyes away from the home, realizing he had been staring, standing still in the road. One hoof before the other, he continued on, eyes again cast down to the dirt beneath his disguised hooves.

Several minutes later, he approached his final destination: a small hill, overlooking the town and the edge of the Everfree Forest. He came to a halt at the peak, lifting his eyes to look over the scene below. It was almost exactly as he remembered from that day, years ago, the last time he had come here for the same purpose: to start his journey back to the hive. Unlike last time, however, there was no enthusiasm. He was not returning home triumphant and successful. He was slinking back, full of shame and failure, to the only place that might accept him.

Numbly, he pulled out his little compass on its golden chain. He merely stared at it for several long seconds, his breath threatening to grow ragged, before slipping it on. A wave of flame passed over him as he swapped his shell's horn for a pair of wings; slightly broader than average, with powerful flight muscles. The counterfeit form's heart and lungs were made stronger, the muscles in perfect trim. It was a form that could fly all day long without tiring and could carry him back to the blasted and barren lands of the hive with ease.

It was such a simple thing. He could have returned any time he wanted to, had he had simply chosen to do so. Instead, he had filled his own mind with images of his triumphant return, leading a small herd of ponies to ensure his own greatness. He'd put his own selfish desires first, and by doing so, had earned every bad event that had fallen on him. Now he could only return and plead mercy, hoping that there was some way he could make it up to the hive, something he could do.

He spread his wings...

He hesitated. His wings, held high, trembled. He wanted to fly. He didn't want to fly. He wanted both, and so his body did neither.

Then his wings trembled again, and came down; not a firm downward stroke to carry himself into the sky, but a slow, defeated sagging. They sunk down to the ground as he sat back.

What's the point?

There was nothing there for him. Even if the hive allowed him to return, allowed such a failure to continue to live amongst them, it was a short and hopeless existence. Equestria knew of them. The armor of secrecy had been cast aside in a brazen assault, one that struck at the heart of these ponies. Now their kind was exposed in the worst way, cast suddenly into the public consciousness in the most shocking and violent manner imaginable. They had tried to stab at the heart of a sleeping, unaware beast, and had missed their mark.

Equestria, in all its might and power, was awakened to their presence, and to the gravity of what the changelings had attempted to do. The sleeping beast was awakened to a threat that had nearly ended it. Now Equestria would act to ensure its safety.

The hive would fall. Even with all their cunning, all their defenses, all their selfless devotion to giving their lives to safeguard the hive, the changelings couldn't stand against Equestria any more than a single foal could stand against the might of the ocean.

One changeling would make no difference. Ten thousand changelings would make no difference. The hive would fall, and all their efforts would be for nothing.

Returning would accomplish nothing except to ensure his own death, all for a cause that was completely lost.

...Why?

He looked up again, eyes focusing out over the Everfree. Why did the hive attack? It made no sense. Why had they cast aside the covert hunting that had served them so well for so long, only to stage such an overt act of aggression? Why had they risked everything in a desperate gamble against a nation that had overcome threats so monstrous as to almost defy belief?

His hooves were shaking. It's just so wrong. An invasion? War? What kind of insanity is this? How could they just abandon everything it means to be a changeling?

His mind flashed back to the photograph of his Queen, forelegs outstretched in presumptive victory. She was the guiding force of the hive. He couldn't understand why, but she had set them on that incomprehensible course of action. She had taken a chance, and failed. Because of her, the hive was exposed. Because of her, everything that was good in Nictis's life was turned to ash.

Anger battled with guilt at feeling such treasonous thoughts. The little voice in the back of his mind pointed out that he didn't have any idea what the situation really was. He'd been gone from the hive for nine years. Maybe she had a good reason?

It sounded like a hollow excuse to him, but despite that, his shoulders slowly relaxed. It all felt so contrary to everything he had ever known, but something had convinced the Queen that this assault was the right thing to do. She might have been... wrong, but it hardly made any difference now. As much as he wanted someone to blame for his situation, he knew he didn't have to look very far to find the only one responsible for that.

Slowly, he rose and turned away from the Everfree, starting the slow walk back to town.

My name is Silver... Song.

The newly-named Silver shook her head, sighing softly. As disguises went, it was pretty flimsy, but she couldn't muster the determination to do any better. Her background was entirely dependent on her improvising something vague from her own experiences. Hopefully, she'd be able to dissuade anypony from inquiring too much by being abrasive to anyone inquiring too much into the subject. Unfortunately, that posed an awkward balance; she couldn't be constantly abrasive, or she'd starve. Despite how well fed she had been, those fire-portals took a fair amount of energy, and every moment was slowly draining more.

A sign beside the bare dirt road labeled the village ahead as Oatfield. It wasn't much to look at, but it hardly needed to be. She wasn't planning on staying, after all. All she needed was some inn, a place to stay for a day or two where she could nibble away a bit of energy and then be on her way again. At least she had a fair number of bits in her saddlebags. She shouldn't have to worry about money for a few weeks. After that... she'd find something. It wasn't perfect, but she'd survive.

I hope some others survive this, she thought. Some Infiltrators would be out in Equestria, away from the hive. Maybe some others could escape before the hive is overwhelmed. I... I don't want to be the only one...

Walking into town revealed it to be even less impressive than her initial impression. The buildings, all in the familiar rural style these ponies seemed to love so much, fell somewhere between "charmingly rustic" and "old and dilapidated." Frequent cart travel to and from the sprawling fields outside the village left the narrow dirt streets with deep ruts, several of which still had small puddles. The pungent smell of fertilizer seemed to hang in the air as if caught up between the buildings. It was about as far removed from the pristine beauty of Canterlot as she could imagine ponies ever living.

Hardly any ponies made note of her as she walked by. There were a couple friendly nods, but most were preoccupied with their own tasks and paid her no mind. She was thankful for that. In a small settlement like this, a traveler might seem out-of-place, but nopony seemed to care.

An inn sat on one side of the village square, though it hardly seemed big enough to deserve the title. It was a narrow, two-story building, no larger than any of the houses she had passed. It would suffice, though she imagined the opportunities to feed would be slim.

Stepping inside, she found the inn was not as dark and dingy as she had expected from the general look of the village. Perhaps a little dim with all the windows shut, and quite tiny, but clean enough. The main room was about the size of a typical living room, sporting a pair of rectangular tables with matching benches. There might be room for a dozen ponies, maybe a tiny bit more if everypony got cozy. On one side was a counter set before an open door leading back into the rest of the building.

Otherwise, the place was empty.

She stepped up to the counter, which held a well-read newspaper, which she pointedly ignored, and a small wooden placard listed prices for food and drink--quite literally, one for "food" and one for "a drink." The place was almost silent, the only sound being the muffled sound of talking coming from the couple outside, across the street.

After a minute, she decided nopony knew she was there. "Hello?"

Silence was the only answer for several seconds until she heard the slow clopping of hooves on the wooden floor deeper in the little building. A moment later, a heavyset yellow earth pony stepped out of the doorway. He looked concerned for a moment, or perhaps just curious, but the expression washed away with a pleasant smile as he saw her. "Well, hello there, ma'am," he said, his voice surprisingly light for his build. "Sorry 'bout that, weren't expecting anypony so early!"

The stallion rested one foreleg on the counter, extending the other. "M'name's Firelight."

"Silver Song," she replied with a shake of his hoof and a faint smile, the best she could manage at the moment.

"Well, Silver, what can I do for you?"

"With you being the local inn, I was hoping you might have room for a traveler for the night."

"Oh, of course," he replied with a hesitant nod. "We don't get much in the way of travelers 'round here, but you can have one of the benches for the night for five bits."

She glanced back at the tiny room. "...I guess. Might be a little hard to sleep if there are a bunch of ponies in here." Without thinking, she added, "At least, I assume you plan on having customers at some point."

Chuckling, Firelight shook his head. "Aw, hay. Don't you worry 'bout that. We're a bunch of hard-working folk here, ain't hardly nopony 'round that doesn't have to get up before the sun. Sure, there'll be plenty here in the evening, but come time for sleep, you'll have the place to yourself."

Despite the situation, Silver barely restrained a frown at the spectacular mangling of proper grammar. "Very well. I could also use some..." She glanced down to the placard, and this time she did frown. "...'Food.'"

"Be a couple hours 'fore the evening's stew is all done, but if you want somethin' now, I can whip up some sandwiches 'n such."

"Sure," she said, to which Firelight nodded and walked into the back.

Silver sighed as she slumped down on one of the benches. Her eyes fell to the lightly stained surface of the table before her, eyes wandering along the rough wood-grain and the tapestry of old stains. She just stared, tuning out the world.

She was eventually interrupted by a wooden tray with a sandwich, salad, and a glass of water.

"Here you are," Firelight said cheerfully.

Silver continued to stare for several long seconds before her horn lit up to lift the sandwich, and she ate mechanically.

Firelight seemed content to leave her alone at first, having left after a minute of awkward silence. As the afternoon wore on, however, he seemed to grow concerned. The glances and faint frown would have been worrying if not for the ability to sense emotions directed to her. Yes, he felt concerned, but it wasn't from worry about her. It was subtly different; concern for her.

Of course, it would be. He sees a pony that isn't all cheery and happy, and immediately feels sad for her. She kept from glancing at him. Can't have somepony unhappy and spoiling their perfect little world.

She was completely unsurprised when he finally came back up to her. "Ma'am? Are you okay?"

"Fine," she droned quietly, and utterly unconvincingly.

"Beg your pardon," he said with a shuffle of his hooves, "But you don't 'xactly look like you're doin' fine to me."

She turned her gaze to him, a look completely devoid of emotion that made the stallion shuffle again. She held the gaze for several seconds before sighing, eyes turning down to the table again. If he really wanted a reason, she could give him an excuse, and if she had to make up a story, she might as well start with the truth.

"...I had a bad breakup," she said, voice barely above a whisper. "I just... I couldn't stay there, after how things ended. So now I'm just wandering around. It's all I have..."

"I'm sorry to hear that," he said, ears drooping for just a moment before giving a sad smile. "But look up. I'm sure a pretty little mare like you can find somepony else."

"I don't want somepony else."

Firelight remained silent for a moment before finally nodding. "Well, I hope things work out for you." He turned to walk back but paused again. "You just plannin' on sitting there all evening? I got a paper here if you'd like somethin' to read. Only copy in town," he said, sounding proud at the last sentence.

Silver glanced at the paper and then turned away. "No. I'm rather sick of all the news lately."

"Fair 'nough," Firelight said with a wry smile. "Well, um... I guess if you need anything just, um, shout..."

He hesitated a moment more before slipping out again, and Silver crossed her forelegs on the table, laid her head atop them, and sighed. The little voice in the back of her mind was scolding her for being so distant. It had a good point. So many ponies reacted almost instinctively to the sight of another pony being less than happy and would try to cheer them up. It was a good way to build up an emotional investment, one which could supply plentiful sympathy, or even be groomed into a stronger affection. She would need food before too long, and that meant she couldn't just hold other ponies at a distance. That little voice noted that it would be so easy to take the sympathy given to a mare after a bad break-up and spin it into a new romance, a wonderful bounty of food. It was a perfect lie, using their own sympathy and best wishes to get them to serve themselves up happily to something that only wished to prey upon them.

She wanted to strangle that little voice.

True to Firelight's word, that evening saw the tiny inn filled with ponies--a whole half-dozen at once, even, not including her or Firelight. They came in twos and threes, in good spirits despite their appearance. Every single one looked tired from a long day's work in the fields, their fur dirty and laced with the scent of fertilizer. She had to suppress the urge to scrunch up her nose and turn away until she realized just how finicky and un-changeling-like that would be. Then she just sagged a bit more.

Naturally, many of them wanted to meet the newcomer.

This is probably the most interesting thing to happen in this tiny little backwater dump in at least a month, she thought snidely, as yet another pony tried to engage her in conversation.

"Hello there, miss. You're new in town?"

No, I've lived here my whole life, didn't you notice? Moron. "Yes," was all she said.

The earth pony nodded, with a smile that seemed to indicate he thought the conversation was going well. "My name's Blooming Field," he said proudly, offering his hoof.

Your name is stupid. "Silver Song." ...Not that mine is much better, I suppose. At least I'm not stuck with it for life.

The pony stood there, awkwardness ramping up by the second as he held his hoof out. He finally lowered it with a nervous chuckle. "Well, uh, that's a nice name. Silver Song. Very pretty." She only barely resisted rolling her eyes. "So where are you from, Silver Song?"

Oh, you know, a hive full of emotion-eating monsters that would just love to make your acquaintance. You? "Manechester."

"Oh, a city pony?" His smile grew wider. "So where were you going to have ended up out here, miss?"

She shrugged silently.

"Ah," he replied, glancing back at the other ponies gathered in the tiny room. A few looked on, watching their conversation. A few frowned faintly, having had no better luck when they tried to speak with her. Others simply tried to ignore the whole thing, occupying themselves with more engaging conversations with their peers, or reading the single newspaper. "...Well, um, yeah. I, um, hope that goes well for you..."

She sighed, ears drooping more as the little voice piped up in the back of her mind. It was still right. She couldn't just soak in her own misery and shut out all the ponies around her; she would need to feed eventually, and every pony she pushed away was a little less food for her.

"...I'm sorry," she murmured, only barely loud enough for the withdrawing stallion to hear.

He paused, looking back to her. "Pardon?"

"I'm... I'm sorry." She sighed again and rose up from her slumped posture to sit a little more casually. "I've just been having a really bad week."

"I could kinda tell," he replied with a soft smile, taking this as an invitation to sit with her. "You wanna talk about it?"

"No." After a few seconds of silence, she added, "But thank you."

As far as conversations went, it was slow and awkward, but Blooming--or "Bloom," he said--was friendly enough of a pony despite how quiet she was. Once it was clear she wasn't trying to shun him with silence, he seemed happy to fill in the quiet moments himself. It wasn't long before she could pull the faintest wisps of emotional energy from him, but it was slow, like trying to drink a milkshake through a ten-foot straw.

Sadly, their conversation had hardly started before another pony intervened.

"Excuse me?" A slim pony stepped in warily, a touch of nervousness flavoring his emotions. When Silver looked to him, he brought a hoof up as if to step away, but held his place. "Your name is Silver Song, right?"

"Yes."

"And you said you're from Manechester?"

She only just refrained from showing the alarm that question raised in her. "Yes."

"Are you related to Meadow Song?"

Crap.

Her heart was beating faster by the moment. "No."

"Well, it's just... you have the same last name."

She frowned. "So?"

He hesitated, then gestured with his muzzle toward her flank. "And you have the same cutie mark."

She started to glance back, but stopped herself; it struck her as a rather un-pony gesture, as if any pony would need to look at their own cutie mark. "So what?"

By now a couple other ponies were looking over the paper, casting an occasional glance over at her; the emotions she felt from them were growing more concerned by the moment. Bloom looked particularly awkward, as if caught in the middle of something unpleasant, while the pony questioning her did his best to stand his ground. "And Firelight told me you left Manechester because of a bad breakup..."

Silver's eyes went wide. Then they narrowed, her ears pinning back as she fixed him with a hard glare.

Undeterred, he went on. "And the paper said that Meadow Song was a changeling that was preying on some--"

His words were cut off by the sound of a solid thwack. He recoiled and fell back against the counter, forehooves clutching his nose. Silver stood, teeth bared as she glared down at him, one hoof still raised as if to strike him again. The room was silent except for her angry panting and some shocked murmurs.

The pony she had hit looked to his hooves--despite the strong blow, he wasn't bleeding--then back to her, eyes wide. A moment later he reached up, fumbling at the placard listing the little inn's prices. "C-catch!" he shouted, clumsily flinging it at her.

She caught it effortlessly in her magic and was about to retort when several gasps caught her attention. She cast a glare back at the other ponies, most of whom were glancing between her and the placard she held in her vivid green magic.

Double crap.

The pony who had been interrogating her screamed. "Ch-changeling!"

Chaos descended upon the tiny room. Ponies scrambled for the door. A few leaped out a nearby window. A couple dove under the benches, trying to hide. Most of them were shouting and screaming.

"It's a changeling, run!"

"Oh Celestia, don't hurt me!"

"Panic! Panic!"

"Please don't eat my love! I'm still using it!"

Silver's ears twitched, teeth gritting harder. A growl built up as the ponies around her panicked, and in a fit of rage she sent the little placard hurtling after the ponies scrambling out the door. "That's right, run away! You pathetic, inbred, moronic bunch of cowards!"

Turning, she lunged in the direction of one pony scrambling out the window; she shouted out a snarl at him, which he answered by shrieking and falling out the window. She turned, bucking a table and knocking it sideways, then grabbing a bench in her magic and throwing it across the little room, sending it crashing into a wall.

A green-coated pony pushed his way in through the door, apparently eager to see what was going on despite the shouts of "Run away!" and "Changeling!" coming from most of the ponies he was pushing past. Silver screamed out in rage and leaped at him, at which point he turned to run with the rest.

Or at least, that was how it looked for a moment. She was just reaching the peak of her jump when she realized something was off about him. Yes, he had shifted his weight forward as if to run away, but the stance was wrong. His forelegs were too far forward, and rather than starting to run, he seemed to just crouch forward on them.

Recognition came too late as his rear lifted from the ground, and like a compressed spring, his entire body snapped back to plant both hind-hooves straight into her chest.

She rocketed straight back, crashing into a table and ending in a sprawled heap with it against the back wall. For an instant, there was no pain, only a feeling of pressure as if something was wound tight around her chest. After the screaming and snarling, the world seemed momentarily silent. Then she gasped in the breath that had been knocked from her, the pain finally registering, feeling as if somepony had just driven a dozen nails into her chest.

She had no time to contemplate her injuries as the green-coated pony snapped out of his wide-eyed surprise and lunged at her. She returned the gesture with a blast of magic; not the kind of narrow, focused dart that could slice through a creature like a spear, but a broader blast that caught the pony in midair and sent him hurtling back over the counter. Another pony had been following after that one, also leaping at her. She didn't have the time to build up the magic for another blast like the one she had just released, and instead just used a bit of telekinesis to nudge the leaping pony upward--just enough for him to go sailing out the open window above her.

Those two hadn't been alone, she found, as a strongly-built red mare came charging in after the last, slamming into her before she had the chance to react. Silver cried out as stabbing pain shot through her chest, but she tried to fight off her attacker. They scrambled, Silver twisting as she drove her hooves at the other pony's sides in an attempt to dislodge the other mare, only to cringe back each time the motion drew a new stab of pain. She scrambled, and the red mare clutched her in a powerful grip, seeming to drive her whole weight down on Silver's injured chest.

"I've got it!" the mare shouted, squeezing and twisting Silver to pin her down. "Come here and help me hold it!"

Even uninjured, Silver couldn't have matched the red mare's strength, and judging by the way she moved, it seemed as if she was experienced with fighting, or at least wrestling. Still, she was just an earth pony, and Silver was a unicorn.

A blast of magic broke the red mare's grip and sent her crashing into the ceiling, only to fall back to the floor several feet away, pelted by a rain of plaster from the pony-shaped crater above. Despite the impact, she was already scrambling to get her hooves under her.

Silver wasted no time. Despite the pain in her chest, she clambered up through the window--knocking down the pony who was starting to climb back in after having been ejected moments earlier--and hit the ground in a gallop. It took a disconcerting moment to focus her inner magic, but after a moment the familiar green flames tore away Silver Song, leaving Nictis exposed.

The changeling's wings buzzed to life, drawing a sharp hiss of pain as he lifted off the ground; several cracks ran along the chitin of his chest, shifting and digging painfully with the motion of flying. He didn't let that slow him down, however. Gritting his teeth, he flew on, out of the reach of the village of earth ponies.

Okay. Let's try Silver Lining.

New Silver was rather different from old Silver, and in significantly more ways than surname. She still had a similar silver-gray coat but otherwise looked entirely different. A spiky blue-and-white mane topped her head, matching the colors of her slightly-less-spiky tail. Her eyes were ice-blue; the change in color might have clashed with that of her magic, but she had traded in the horn for a pair of wings, hoping she wouldn't miss the convenience of magic too much.

And this time, her cutie mark was different. That had been the hardest part, coming up with a suitable design. She had eventually settled on a dark cloud with sun-rays cast up above it. After she thought up the name Silver Lining, it had been significantly easier, and she felt the tiniest bit of pride at it. She could pass it on as having a talent to find the best in even the worst situations, something that would let her weave a tragic tale of how she ended up traveling alone (and thus, drawing sympathy), yet would have a perfect excuse for being easily cheered up by a friendly pony (and thus, potentially forming a closer affection to feed on).

For some reason, she scowled a little at that line of logic, but couldn't deny that it sounded like solid reasoning.

She sighed, hiding the reflexive wince that tried to make itself known. Even after a night's sleep in a small stretch of forest, her chest still hurt. She no longer had to grit her teeth as she moved, at least. Her innate magic had sped her healing, but it also meant that she was consuming energy at a much more rapid pace. She had plenty enough to heal, but she disliked the idea of running too low. She'd spent so much time getting used to being so filled with love; feeling that reserve rapidly depleting was an unpleasant development.

So, despite how much she'd rather just sit down and mope for a while longer, she knew she needed to go into town and act friendly.

The town in question was only a short distance away, past a few fields. She could just make out the sign at the edge of town declaring it to be "Horseshoe Falls." Ponies were already up and about, going about their business. It was still a small place even compared to Hoofington, but still larger than the village she had visited the day before.

With another sigh, she walked out to the road leading into town, limping faintly. She wouldn't let a little pain stop her, even as much as she'd rather lay down and rest.

A few of the ponies working near the road gave a friendly nod as she passed by, which she returned. A few even wore those ridiculous cowpony hats she had seen elsewhere and tipped them in greeting. Entering the town itself, she got several more casual greetings from the ponies wandering the streets. At least there was no suspicion for a new pony walking into town. Everypony seemed rather cheery, in fact.

Except for a single violet-colored mare, who had stopped to stare at Silver, her eyes narrowing to a glare.

Silver looked away as she continued on, hoping to look like any of the other ponies out in the street; sadly there were far too few to disappear into the crowd. A few seconds later she could tell it wasn't helping, as the violet mare was walking toward her with a purpose.

"Hey! You!"

Silver strongly considered running, but instead stopped and turned her head to look back. "What?"

The violet mare practically stormed up to her, jutting her muzzle in so close that Silver drew back. "...Who are you?"

"I'm... Silver Lining. Why, who--"

"And where are you from?"

"Manehattan, what--"

"Manehattan, hmm?" The mare drew her head back, starting to circle around Silver and eying her critically. "A likely story..."

Silver blinked a couple times, then glanced around to see how much suspicion this was raising. Several ponies were casting disapproving glances, though for some strange reason it seemed they were focused on her assailant rather than herself. The rest were simply trying to ignore the whole thing.

Then the mare was back in her face. "And why would a city pony be sneaking into some little rural town, hmm? What are you doing here?"

Silver's eyes were wide as she took a step back. "I-I'm just traveling, passing through--"

"Why? Where are you going? What are you up--"

"Violet!"

A brown mare wearing another of those cowpony hats was storming up, fixing the violet-coated mare--Violet, she assumed--with an angry glare. "Violet, you stop harassing that poor girl!"

Violet glared back. "Not until she confesses!" She turned her glare back to Silver. "You can't hide from--ack!" She yelped as the brown mare expertly flipped her hat off, caught it in her mouth, and swatted at her several times.

"Oo quid ed!" the mare growled around her hat, then flipped it back up onto her head. "That's enough of this, Violet. You can't just go around harassing ponies just because they're new in town!"

Violet's eyes widened, then narrowed again as she took a step back. "So. You're one of them too, huh?"

The brown mare rolled her eyes. "Yeah, that's right, I'm a changeling too. Go home, Violet!"

Silver's eyes went even wider, fairly certain that her heart had just completely stopped.

Violet glared at the other mare, then back to Silver, who winced away. Violet raised a hoof, pointing it straight at Silver. "I'm on to you."

With that she backed slowly away, her hoof pointing the whole way.

Silence reigned until she had finally--many excruciatingly long seconds later--slipped around the corner, and the brown-coated mare spoke up. "Sorry about--"

"What the hay was that?" Silver blurted.

The mare paused before giving a wry smile. "My cousin Violet. Like I was saying, I'm sorry about that. She's always been a little odd, but lately, she's been outright uncontrollable." She frowned. "She's not usually so mean, though. Not exactly the best welcome for a new pony in town, either. Sorry."

Silver breathed deep and slow, trying to keep away the trembling that threatened to overtake her. "Th-that's okay," she said shakily.

"My name's Grace," the other pony said while holding out a hoof. "I hope I can at least repair a little of the damage my cousin's caused to first impressions. This is a genuinely nice town, apart from a few odd ponies."

"Silver Lining," she replied, shaking the offered hoof. "And, um... what was that about... about you being a changeling?"

She really hoped that didn't sound as hopeful as it did in her head.

Grace just let out a bitter laugh. "Oh, that. She's always been a little odd and paranoid, so ever after that whole hoopla in Canterlot she's been seeing changelings everywhere." She sighed, shaking her head. "This isn't the first time she's laid into some traveler. Not the first time she said I was one for defending folk, either."

"Ah," Silver said, frowning a bit. "It kinda seems more and more like this isn't the best time for traveling."

"I should hope most ponies aren't as rude as that," Grace said with a concerned look.

"Oh, no, of course not," Silver replied. Then a thought occurred to her; this was the perfect opening to shoot for some sympathy. "...I mean, there have been several who were a little distant or suspicious of strangers. It's sad to see ponies growing so untrusting, but given what happened, I can't really blame them for being nervous."

"I think that's no excuse," Grace replied, with a look that said she was rather unhappy with these fictitious ponies. "The more trying the times, the more we need to stick together, and I think it's horrible that some ponies would forget that so easily."

Silver nodded, a faint smile returning; she could appreciate the sentiment, even if it felt a bit bitter at the moment. "Oh, of course, but... what if she was right? What if she did find a changeling?"

It seemed like a perfect opportunity to discover what kind of dangers she might face, what kind of reactions Equestria would have, but Grace's eyes simply went wide. "Oh sweet Celestia, I hope that never happens. She's hard enough to deal with already, I can't imagine how much of a pain she'd be if she were ever proven right!"

Silver let out a nervous chuckle. A sudden impulse crept into her mind and refused to let go. She decided to go with it; perhaps absurdity might be the best way to divert suspicion. "Oh, well, I suppose I should keep my oh-so-convincing pony disguise up," she said with a roll of her eyes and a chuckle. "I wouldn't want to encourage her."

Inwardly, she was struggling to keep her breathing and expression steady despite the impulse to freak out, but Grace just laughed. "Hah! Yeah, you be sure you do." Then she raised a hoof to shake it at her. "No offense, but if you were a changeling, I'd have to thump you one for stirring my cousin up even worse."

"Well we wouldn't want that," Silver said, chuckling in a way that hopefully sounded happy instead of nervous. "Not that I can imagine what 'worse' would be."

"You don't want to know," Grace said flatly, her hoof returning to the ground. "Anyway, sorry. Other than being accosted by strange mares, what brings you to our little town?"

"Well, other than enjoying not being the 'strange mare' myself?" She shrugged, trying to seem as nonchalant as possible. "Just kind of wandering. I couldn't stay where I was, but I don't really have anywhere set to go. I'm kind of just looking around, really."

"Looking for what?" the other mare asked with a friendly smile.

Silver paused. "Someplace worth staying at. A place I could get a good job and some good friends. Some place I could have a good life."

"Well, you seem nice enough, friends shouldn't be a problem. And I'm sure there are plenty of good jobs here. It's a nice town."

Silver paused to look around, then back to Grace. She seemed quite nice, and surprisingly trusting despite the events of a few moments prior. Silver could take advantage of that, she knew, though the thought didn't carry the sense of pride it once did.

"...I'm not sure if I'm really ready to settle down," Silver said, reluctantly. "There's a lot of world out there, after all, and I'd kind of like to see more of it. But..." She looked around again, allowing a small smile. "I think I might make my way back here, eventually. It seems like a nice place." She paused, then added, "Eccentric welcoming committee aside."

Grace snickered softly, then nodded. "I understand. Anyway, uh, I'm kind of on my way to work. In fact, I've got to hurry along now, but hey, I've kind of got this meetup this evening with some friends. If you didn't have any plans, would you like to come along?"

"Really?" Silver asked, genuinely surprised. "I mean... you just met me, after all."

Grace chuckled. "Aw hay, it's not like I'm asking you on a date or anything. It's just that you seem nice, and I've always liked making new friends." Then she paused, glancing to the side before giving Silver a sly smirk. "Plus, as insufferable as my cousin can be at times, it's kinda fun to mess with her every now and again."

Silver snickered. "Well, in that case, I'd love to come along."

"Great!" Grace pointed down the street at the open square nearby. "That's the town square, there. How about we meet up there ‘round a quarter past five?"

"I'll be there," Silver replied with a smile.

With a wave, they parted, and moments later Silver's smile vanished, ears drooping a touch.

A couple inns lined the main streets near the square, and Silver picked the more populated of them. Arranging for a room was simple enough, though it cost a bit more than the bench she almost had the previous day. And then... she found herself again sitting in the common room of an inn, with absolutely nothing to do. A much nicer, roomier inn, at least.

There were a few other patrons, catching a quick meal or getting a few drinks, but she wasn't looking for company at the moment. Her mind was too busy to engage in such deceptive conversations at the moment.

Only a few minutes in town, and she had already made a prospective friend. Ponies--most ponies, anyway--were a friendly lot, which of course made it easy, but she found the situation uniquely uncomfortable. Folding her forelegs on the table, she rested her chin wearily atop them.

Can I really do this?

She sighed, considering her situation. What am I going to do? Stay here, make new friends? Grace seems friendly enough, and she wants me to come along with her friends. I'm sure I could make plenty of friends and have all the food I need. But could I really just start a new life, as if I could just replace him? Or would this all just be another lie?

Or should I just... keep moving?

The thoughts tumbled around in her head as she waited, but no matter where they wandered, she kept coming back to Spark. She kept imagining that look, that feeling of fear and pain when he had discovered the truth about her. About what she had done, what she wished she could take back, to have never done in the first place.

Maybe I can convince him to forgive me, she thought desperately, despite knowing how foolish that hope was. Ponies were a soft-hearted breed, but some things were surely beyond even them. Now he knew what she was; a monster that had ruined several years of his life for her own selfish gain. The same kind of monster as the ones who had just launched a brazen and unprovoked surprise attack on the capital of his kingdom. Even worse, she could only imagine what he must be thinking now; reevaluating every moment since then in a new light, trying to discover other moments when she may have been using and deceiving him.

He must hate me.

She raised a hoof to wipe at her eyes, focusing on keeping her breathing slow and steady.

Maybe... someday... but for now, I have to keep going. I have to do what I can to survive. I can't replace him, but... maybe I can do better this time. She took a deep, steadying breath. No lies. No manipulation. Just one tiny, omitted detail...

Her thoughts were shattered by a yell that made her jump, wings snapping out reflexively.

"There she is!"

Her head jerked around to see Violet pointing at her--and a sudden, chill shock shot through her at the sight of the two Royal Guards beside her. She fought down panic and the urge to flee, quickly drawing in every detail she could, and the very first was the disposition of the Guards themselves. There was no anger or hatred there. Instead, they seemed... bored.

Well, the gray-coated unicorn mare in front seemed bored. The white-coated pegasus stallion looked to be practically strutting along and seemed completely unconcerned about her.

The implications of their attitude were clear, and Silver nearly smiled at it. Instead, her expression turned into a scowl. Right. Time to go on the offensive. She grumbled, "What do you want now?"

Instead of answering her directly, she looked to the unicorn that seemed to be the leader of the pair of Guards. "She's the changeling I told you about!"

The unicorn gave a suspicious look, though Silver was quite gratified to see it directed not at herself, but at Violet. Of course, Silver felt she should encourage that suspicion. "Ugh," she groaned, rolling her eyes. "I am so sick of this." She fixed Violet with a glare. "Every town I've been through over the last few days I've had to deal with the same load of horse apples just because I'm a new face. I just want some place to rest and unwind after traveling the countryside, but everywhere I go, I have to deal with paranoid ponies like you who seem determined to ruin my life!"

"Hah! You can't fool me. I know what you are, trying to sneak into town and replace one of us, but you won't get away with it."

"For the last time," Silver groaned, "I'm not a changeling, I'm just new in town."

The unicorn guard stepped forward. "Okay, look--"

"Don't listen to her!" Violet said, earning a frown from the guard. "I saw her change!"

Silver's eyes went wide as she leaped to her feet, incensed. "You pathetic little liar! It's bad enough that you're harassing me just for being new, but now you have to go and make stuff up, too?"

"Calm down, both of you!" The Guard's words were not overly loud, but they were forceful enough to cut through the conversation. Silver clamped her mouth shut, wanting to have no argument with the Guard; not only could they get her in a lot of trouble, but the unicorn mare was really somepony she didn't want to anger. Who knew what a militarily-trained unicorn could do with her magic, never mind that this was one of the toughest-looking mares she had ever seen. Not bulky, exactly, but still strongly built.

Violet, however, was not so easily silenced. "I know your orders, you can't just ignore this! You have to investigate every reported changeling, and I'm reporting that she's a changeling."

The unicorn turned a harsh scowl to Violet. "I am well aware of my orders, thank you very much. More so than you are."

"Then you're going to reveal her, right?"

The scowl intensified. "We will investigate your claim if you will just be silent and let us do our jobs."

"Good," Violet said with a triumphant nod, and waited.

The Guard mare sighed, stepping over to Silver. Her expression had softened, and Silver even detected a bit of sympathy coming from the Guard. "I'm sorry about all of this," the mare said, offering a faint, comforting smile.

"It's not your fault," Silver grumbled, turning her head away. "Besides, with the way the last couple days have gone, I've kind of gotten used to it."

The Guard nodded, and Silver could feel the sympathy grow a tiny bit. "Well, we'll get this all over with as quick as we can so you can get back to your own business, okay?"

"Sounds good," Silver replied. She paused and was about to say more, but she never got the chance. She hadn't even noticed the glow around the unicorn's horn until she felt the tug against her own magic. Before she realized what was happening, she felt the foreign magic flow against her own, slicing into the sustaining elements of the spell. With a sudden jerk, the magic was gone.

In a flash of green, Silver was stripped away, leaving Nictis standing there. Undisguised. Naked. Exposed.

Nictis and the unicorn stared at each other with wide eyes. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he couldn't help wondering which of them seemed more surprised by the development.

The unicorn blinked, coming to her senses first. "Uh... okay, you--"

The sound of her words brought him back to his senses, and he did the most natural thing he could do, given the circumstances: he turned and bolted for the door.

"Wait! Stop!" the unicorn shouted, horn flaring. Nictis felt the magic of her telekinesis wrapping around him just before he got to the exit, and shot out a pulse of his own magic to break her grip. An instant later he shouldered his way past a very startled pony who was just entering the inn, stumbled, and tumbled out into the street.

Several ponies yelled out at the sight of a changeling suddenly appearing in their midst. He quickly scrambled back to his hooves and ran as the two Royal Guards ran out of the inn after him. "Halt!" the unicorn shouted out, which Nictis took as encouragement to run even faster despite the quickly-growing pain in his leg. Other ponies skittered back out of his way, too startled by his sudden appearance to intervene, and a moment later he dove into an alleyway.

The moment he broke line of sight with his pursuers, he called on his magic again to form a new disguise; nothing that would pass even cursory examination, but which might help him lose his pursuers among the crowd of other ponies. His black, shiny carapace and insectoid wings were about as far from blending in as he could get. His magic tried to form, but it seemed to stutter and break apart right as it tried to form the portion of the spell that would hold it all in place. Green fire flickered across him, but no change came. It was as if whatever the unicorn had cast was lingering in his own magic, disrupting his ability to sustain the spell.

This is bad! This is really bad!

He continued running down the alley, already trying to work out the quickest way out of town. If he just followed the street outside the alley, he should be able to see the forest outside the edge of town within a couple blocks. Maybe less.

A shadow passed over him, drawing his attention up to the glitter of gold above him as the pegasus Guard winged over into a tight loop, swooping down at him. Oh, right. That one can fly. A moment later it occurred to him that he could, too. I spent way too much time as a unicorn.

He had only a moment for self-recrimination before the pegasus had dropped down before him, hovering only a few feet above the ground. "Hold it right there!" he shouted.

Nictis ignored the command, instead leaping with a buzz of his wings--and a grimace of pain as his partially-healed chitin flexed in ways it shouldn't at the sudden use. Fortunately, the maneuver paid off; the pegasus had expected him to continue running instead of taking to the air, and failed to adjust quickly enough to block his path. Nictis passed just inches out of his reach, and after a few moments of unsteady and painful flight, he dropped back to the ground and ran.

The pegasus was quick. He'd hardly landed when another flash of white and gold swept past him, and the Guard landed at the end of the alley. "I said halt!" he shouted, crouched and ready to spring up if his target tried to sail over him again; fresh and uninjured, Nictis had no doubt that the pegasus would easily be the better at aerial matters.

Instead of repeating the obvious tactic, Nictis dropped his head and rammed his shoulder into the Guard.

The two of them tumbled out into the street, a furious bundle of black and white and gold, limbs flailing. Nictis's wings complained loudly at the abuse, twisted in ways that wings really shouldn't be twisted. Limbs scrambled aimlessly as the two tried to gain purchase on the other. Or more accurately, Nictis scrambled aimlessly; the pegasus moved precisely as he intended, hooking in around Nictis's limbs and body and quickly twisting a pair of chitinous legs in ways that they really shouldn't be twisted.

Fortunately, he did still have magic, and the pegasus did not. He sent a quick burst of magic into his horn--

And the pegasus slapped a hoof against it, sending a painful shock down through Nictis's head and shattering his unformed spell. A moment later he found himself lifted and twisted, pressed muzzle-first into the dirt of the street with the pegasus's weight bearing down on his back. The pegusus twisted one of his forelegs back in a way that threatened horrible pain but did not quite reach that point. "Settle down!" the pegasus growled.

Nictis flailed, struggling as hard as he could despite the growing pain in his chest and legs. His eyes were wide with panic, and each breath came loudly, caught halfway between a growl and a scream, as if simply making noise might help him to escape. In his panic, all manner of horrible fates flashed through his mind, carrying threats of what could await a changeling that fell into the hooves of ponies who had been so wronged by them.

Each twist and buck and squirm barely phased the pegasus that held him, but it did at least keep him occupied. It gave Nictis just a moment to act. Tucking his head down brought his horn out of the pegasus's immediate reach, and he fired up another spell.

With his horn below him, he couldn't cast directly at the pegasus to knock him off, as he had with that earth pony the day before. Instead, fueled by desperation, he fired a bolt of energy into the ground beneath his chest.

He didn't hear the spell so much as felt it as it detonated against the street. A powerful blast threw the two of them back, slamming the pegasus Guard against the side of a building, with Nictis's weight driving back against him. Rebounding from the impact, they fell to the street, no longer entangled with each other.

Nictis gasped in the air against the stabbing pain in his chest. The world reeled around him, fighting his efforts to stand up. He nearly collapsed with a bit-back scream as he tried to put weight on his right foreleg, the same leg that had been twisted back by the pegasus. It refused to bear any weight, or even move properly. Something had broken with the impact.

Getting back on his hooves, he hobbled on three legs toward the alley across the street, the fourth held up against his chest. The world refused to settle and focus; colored blurs that he knew were ponies danced around him. Some seemed to be moving closer.

Nictis turned his head aside, calling up his magic again to send out a fan of flames. He didn't direct them against the blurs of color, merely sending up a curtain of green fire between him and them. Muffled yells fought their way through his muddled senses, sounding much further away than he knew they were.

The world was slowly returning to focus, the ground no longer swaying beneath him. The blurs of color quickly resolved into the faces of frightened and angry ponies, though rather more of the former than the latter. A few of the latter were starting to close in; another brief fan of flames between him and them sent them scurrying back, and he continued on, a few more ponies scattering out of his way. A glance behind him found the pegasus Guard rising, shaking himself out of the daze from the impact. The impact had knocked the wind out of him, but it seemed the armor had done its job and prevented any injury.

Nictis hobbled faster, passing into the alleyway.

He nearly reached the next street before the Guard returned, swooping down at him. Nictis staggered, sweeping his horn around to send up a curtain of flame between them. The pegasus yelped and pulled out of his dive, giving Nictis a few more seconds of freedom.

He stepped out of the alley and looked down the street. There, a few hundred yards away, he could see a gathering of trees; the edge of the forest outside town, and his hopes for escape.

The pegasus swooped down in front of him, between him and his freedom. "Give it up!" the pegasus shouted. "You can't keep running."

Nictis stared at the trees a moment longer, fixing the image in his mind. He could only see their tops, but hopefully, that would be enough. Another fan of flame forced the pegasus back up the street, and Nictis dove back into the alley, horn flaring with green fire as he poured magic into it.

If he had been thinking more clearly, he might not have led the dive with his injured shoulder. Fortunately, it mattered little; as he came down he met not the hard-packed dirt of the alley, but the wrenching sensation of the world moving past him. An instant later the flames of his fire portal flicked away, and the underside of a bush smacked against him.

He found himself nearly pinned in place by the tangled branches of the bush, surrounded by trees and wild foliage.

He was free.

Nictis gasped out a pained but happy sigh, the panic of his near-capture dissolving into joy at simply being alive. Turning his head, he could see the edge of town, and several seconds later a gold-clad pegasus shot up over the roofs. The pony darted about from place to place, searching for his prey who had somehow vanished in that tiny alley. Nictis slowly relaxed; they had no idea what had happened.

He lay there for some time, catching his breath while ignoring how badly his body hurt. He just wanted to lay there and sleep, but he knew he couldn't risk that. Eventually, the ponies might expand their search outward, and he was still dangerously close. Still, he had the time to catch his breath, recover, and assess the situation.

And the situation was... not good. He winced whenever he moved, carefully checking himself over for injuries. His dorsal chest plate was fractured, deep cracks cutting through its surface. Breathing brought pinches and stabs, and he already knew how badly walking was going to hurt. Flying would be impossibly painful, even if his wings hadn't been damaged. The thin membranes had been twisted enough to leave thin lines of discoloration where they had nearly split. A little rougher, and they might have torn.

Then there was his right foreleg, which had a deep split in the chitin that ran from his back, over his shoulder, and curved along the entire length of the upper leg. The wound seeped slightly, staining the black carapace with red.

Wounds could heal, though. Regeneration simply drew on his magical reserves, and even these injuries could be healed quickly with enough love. That, however, led to a greater problem: his reserve of magic was dwindling rapidly. He wasn't sure if he even had enough to fully heal, and he certainly didn't have enough to both heal and still survive for long. He was in desperate need of a source of love.

Though at this point, he'd settle for even a little sympathy.

Again, he tried to resume his disguise. Again, his magic failed him, but the spell drew tantalizingly close. At least he recognized the effect now. It had been years since his rather cursory studies in magic, but it had passed on at least a basic understanding of magical defenses. Whatever spell the unicorn had used had been intended to disrupt ongoing magic, and attacked the sustaining part of the spell; because he was actively sustaining it, even if unconsciously, such an attack had struck against... well, whatever it was that let him sustain the spell. He wasn't exactly versed in the particular terms and mechanics. Fortunately, it seemed to be recovering quickly. A few more minutes and he should be able to hold a disguise again.

Eventually, he forced himself to stir. Gritting his teeth against the pain, he disentangled himself from the bush he had emerged in and forced his way up to his hooves. He allowed himself one last, lingering look back at the happy little pony town, full of lost opportunities. A potential friendship ended before it began, all because ponies found out what he was. He could have used that friendship, built up a pleasant life for himself, but now that was gone. Again.

...Used, he thought bitterly as he turned and hobbled away. I could have used their friendship. Used them. Well, that's the changeling way, isn't it? He ignored the moisture tickling along the dirty and scuffed chitin of his cheeks. They're better off finding out what I am before I "used" them...

The city was more pleasant at night. Or perhaps it was simply easier to deal with.

Nictis walked down the nighttime street, ignoring both the lingering pain in his right shoulder and the rather inebriated mare and stallion behind him, the last patrons to leave the little bar he had spent the evening in. He was disguised, of course. Today he was Nightshade, a sleek and sexy pegasus mare. Just another disposable disguise, one of many he had taken over the past five days since Horseshoe Falls. Something attractive and superficial, enough to bring interest and casual affection over a night of chatting and drinking, but which still let him act distant and uninterested in anything more than some temporary companionship.

It was enough to feed him. It was no bountiful feast and offered no close connections between him and the ponies he was feeding on. Just a little nibble here and there. Not enough that they'd notice. He was careful not to form a lasting impression. That would only lead to pain.

It was enough to feed him, but only just.

The hooves of his assumed form clip-clopped off the street as he walked along, only a faint limp hinting at his injury. A few days of travel through small villages and towns, keeping as much to himself as possible, had finally brought him to the city of Baltimare. A city large enough that one new face would not be notable in the slightest. Where a single random stranger could show up each day at a different gathering place, and arouse no suspicion. Where even if he were to be discovered--something that had thankfully not happened again--he could simply take a new form and show up in a different neighborhood.

He turned onto a path leading through a park, only barely taking note of his surroundings. The air was chilly, carrying a faint, salty scent of the ocean. Even in the middle of the city, it was nearly silent. He liked it more this way. It was simpler. No ponies.

Well, almost no ponies. Beside the path, an earth pony was dozing on a park bench. He had no idea what the stallion was doing there; he looked as if he might have just gone out for a nighttime walk and decided to take a nap there. As he looked on, he couldn't help feeling temptation at the sight of a pony all alone, where nopony else would see them.

He was hungry. The emotional energy he had gathered was enough to sustain him, but only just. Truthfully, it wasn't any less than when he had been back at the hive, sipping just enough from the hive's gathered emotional energy to sustain himself, but there he had the assurance of the entire hive and their stockpile of love. All he had to do if he was hungry was to go and take it.

And here he was, with a pony already incapacitated and vulnerable, with nopony watching. A pony, likely just as filled with love as all the rest. All he had to do was take it. It was no different than pulling the love from a cocooned prey: flashy, crude, and overt, but functional. One spell, and he would have food for weeks. The sleeping pony wouldn't even know what had happened, only waking later to a feeling of utter exhaustion, both physical and mental. Nopony was there to see her magic at work as it tore the love right out of him.

He stared for several seconds, the muscles of his assumed form's jaws tightening... and then slowly relaxing again, his head drooping as he resumed his walk.

I can't. I... I'm not that desperate. If I was starving, I... He frowned, ears drooping. ...could I do it then? He couldn't help a weak, bitter smirk at the thought of somepony finding the husk of a dead changeling, and the following confusion as to how a creature that feeds on love could possibly starve in a place like Equestria.

Leaving the park, he cut into a dark alleyway, the sound of his hooves echoing in the narrow space. Once he was hidden from the street he stopped, ears perking up and swiveling about. Silence reigned over the dark space, broken only by the dull whistle of the wind passing over the buildings around him. Nopony could see him.

A moment of concentration brought up a flash of flame, the sleek form of his current disguise replaced by a somewhat huskier build; not overweight by any stretch, but still thicker and curvier than the lean form he had previously taken, with a thicker, longer coat. Tall and lean might be considered quite attractive by many ponies, but it was not very good for keeping warm in chilly weather.

He stood there a moment longer, ears still pricked. No gasps of surprise or near-silent hoofsteps met his ears. He held perfectly still for a minute to make sure, but he was alone.

He sighed, slipping off his saddlebags. Then he nudged up the edge of a large cardboard box, kneeling down and sliding in under it to lay in the crude little shelter he had established. Memories of his first days in Manehattan had come every time he returned here, but he knew there would be no apartment to upgrade to. There would be no connections, even to a landlord. Nothing that he couldn't abandon guilt-free or take with him.

"Home sweet home," he muttered. He trembled, clenching his eyes shut, and tried to sleep.

Chapter 20: Connections

Chapter 20: Connections

Is this all there is?

Each day passed by, largely indistinct from the day before, or the day after. Nictis rose, meandered about various social venues to mingle, and returned to sleep. Pony after pony passed by, casual acquaintances of the moment. On the occasion he encountered one again, it was under a new guise, their interactions starting from the initial introduction and largely retreading the same ground as their last.

It was an unpleasantly familiar rut.

The only break in that routine was the rare visits to the local volunteer committee. While his need for bits was low, it was not nonexistent. Social gathering places often had some expense, even if it was just to blend in. A pony hanging out in a bar or café without making a purchase might look out of place--or even be asked to leave, as he had learned one night.

Days spent working were few and far between. He missed the delicious taste of well-cooked food, but meals of grass and leaves eaten away from prying eyes cost nothing. He missed the comfort of a bed and the warmth of proper shelter, but he paid no rent. A single day of work could last him weeks if rationed carefully.

And so, he spent most of his days doing the same thing, again and again. He met many happy ponies, maybe even made their days slightly better with his company, and then they were gone. Even if he saw them again, they wouldn't recognize him.

So he fed, and he survived, and in the still moments between ponies, or as he curled up in silence to sleep, he contemplated what he could do differently, how he could make things better.

And each time, he went back and did the same thing again.

The coming of fall brought the prospect of more food. Baltimare University saw a good number of ponies coming from across Equestria, many of them still young and excitable. In the days before the fall semester, many new faces showed up. They seemed an ideal choice, ponies who were also looking for a little friendly companionship in a new place, but who might not feel such a need for longer-term relations with a pony living in a place they would leave again before long. Casual friendships that came and went, and which could offer a changeling an easy opportunity to feed, even as meager as the meals might be.

The restaurants, bars, clubs, and gathering places around the University became Nictis's new "hunting grounds." Despite the increase in activity, there was no significant change in daily life for Nictis. It was still the same routine, just with more activity.

Sometimes a little too active. Nothing quite reached the level of his experiences with Cherry Runner, though several made it clear they would have liked it to go there. One, who had perhaps a bit too much cider that evening, had even required a fairly firm hoof to the snout to discourage him. Fortunately, all the other ponies seemed far too amused at the sight of that stallion being floored by the mare he was clumsily hitting on, and Nictis had slipped away.

He found it rather sad that it was the most interesting night he had in weeks.

It was an early mid-fall morning, and Nictis was prowling a café, although "prowling" in this case had meant sitting at a small table, sipping a cup of tea while keeping an eye out for opportunities. That day he was disguised as a unicorn mare he had named Moondancer, sporting a midnight-blue coat and a flowing silver-gray mane. Such "prowling" was often boring work if no prospects presented themselves, and that morning was particularly dull. There were several students, but most of them were drinking much larger quantities of tea and coffee while poring over books and papers. By the time his own tea ran out, despite such careful rationing, he decided it was time to go.

He rose, left a few bits for the drink, and started to head out when an accidental glimpse at the open journal one student had set on her table brought him to a halt.

On the page were several very technical-looking drawings of changelings.

He'd only barely gotten a glance when a blue hoof flipped the journal shut, drawing his attention up to the unicorn mare sitting at the booth and now wearing a rather sheepish expression. Her voice came quietly. "S-sorry..."

Nictis blinked, feeling both embarrassed for being caught snooping, and as if he had just missed something. "I, uh... sorry? For what?"

She glanced down at the journal, then back to him. "Oh, um... it's just, some ponies get a little weirded out seeing a bunch of drawings of, you know... changelings."

He hesitated a moment, struck by the strange contradiction that he seemingly should be "weirded out" at seeing changelings, and yet she didn't seem to share that reaction herself. It was too curious a thing to pass up. "You're not?"

"Well... no." She smiled a little, but it was a rather nervous smile. "I find them kind of interesting, actually."

Nictis looked down to the closed book. "Why's that?" he asked, before quickly adding, "If you don't mind me asking."

"Oh, well, I guess it's okay." She shuffled a bit in place. "It's kind of a long story, probably boring."

He thought for a moment, weighing his options. His curiosity was caught by this oddity, and even though he ideally wanted to keep as much distance between himself and any thoughts of changelings as possible, he figured a small concession might be valuable here; after all, common interests were a good way of establishing connections with a pony. "I'd like to hear it. I have to admit, I've been rather curious about changelings, myself."

At his gentle smile, she brightened up. "Really?" He nodded, and she spoke happily. "Well, where should I start? I mean, there's so much about them that's just so interesting, and most of it we don't really know anything about. There are so many reasons to find a sapient insectoid innately super-polymorphic emotovore fascinating after all, even if just to understand how all of that works, but, uh..." She faltered a moment, a hint of embarrassment creeping into the emotions he sensed from her. "Well, a big part of it is the aesthetics."

Nictis raised an eyebrow.

"I know it's a little weird," she said quickly, "but I've always thought bugs looked neat. Most of the other fillies would go running and screaming at the sight of a wasp or spider, but I'd just watch them as they go about their business, or even follow them around. Actually, that's why I'm here." She gestured to her flank as she shifted to the side, which was adorned with the image of a wasp. "I'm an entomology student at the university, though I'm hoping to expand that to arthropodology eventually. Anyway, changelings are very insectoid in appearance, so they kind of caught my attention. They just... well, they look neat!"

There was a moment of silence as Nictis considered it, while the mare shifted a little, nervously. He was about to reply when she spoke again. "Though they're not insects, you know. Biology is all wrong. They're from a different order, at least. Arguably a different phylum, though that's far from settled. Some even argue they should be classified as chordates, which might actually make them more closely related to ponies than to insects!"

She was smiling enthusiastically at him, as if she hoped he found the information as exciting and interesting as she did; a hard feat when several key words of the conversation made no sense to him, though he got the general gist of it. In any case, it was best to play along. "I had no idea," he replied.

"Like I said, they're kind of fascinating creatures!"

Nictis hesitated. On the one hoof, this represented an unusual opportunity to discover exactly what ponies knew about changelings, and knowledge was the greatest weapon one could possess. On the other hoof, he was not only unsure whether he wanted to know, but there was also the fact that she held that knowledge. Of all ponies, she would be the most dangerous, as she actually had an idea of what a changeling was like. Knowing that, she would be the most likely to sniff out any mistakes he made, and reveal himself for what he really was.

She'd probably be less likely to attack him than the other ponies he'd encountered recently. No, she'd probably be more interested in studying him... which was not a comforting thought.

A little part of him thought it might even be an audacious trick, though even that little bit didn't dare to hope for it. Infiltrators had many tricks after all, and "hiding in plain sight" was an often-viable tactic, although this would have likely been over-doing it to the point of suspicion. Plus, this mare had yellow eyes and a yellow-and-black cutie mark, while an Infiltrator imitating a unicorn would almost certainly incorporate a bit of green somewhere to match their magic.

Despite all this, he saw the happy smile on her face, feeling her enthusiasm, and he wanted to see more of it. He seemed to be making her day just by speaking with her, and he didn't want to see that suddenly end.

Besides, he was still very hungry.

He motioned toward the closed book with his muzzle. "Do you think I could see those again?"

"Of course!" she exclaimed, her magic--yellow, he noted with a faint disappointment--flipping it open again. "Would you like a seat?"

"Thank you," he replied, sitting beside her as he looked over the drawings. They were all remarkably detailed and very precise, showing an average changeling drone from different angles. Other drawings focused on smaller parts of the body, with labels everywhere, and it all seemed eerily accurate. The cutaway images were particularly disturbing, showing the internal organs and structure of a changeling in more detail than Nictis had ever known.

He did catch one detail that ponies would likely miss; every drawing seemed to be not just of a hypothetical changeling drone, but of one specific changeling drone. After the attack on Canterlot, he had heard a couple ponies talking about the changelings as an identical swarm, which he had found rather odd, yet it had made a strange sort of sense. Ponies were so used to distinguishing themselves with color, mane and tail styles, and their cutie mark. Perhaps they didn't think of other ways of telling individuals apart? Nictis, however, immediately noted the pattern of holes, the placement and curve of the horn, the little fine details of the ears, dorsal membrane, and wings, and even the finer details in the shape and thickness of chitin. Every detail was the same. Either all these were of the same changeling, or this mare was particularly exacting in making sure each drawing had the same looks as the last. Possibly both.

Suddenly there was a hoof in front of him. "My name's Glitterbug," she said, holding her hoof there for him to shake.

"Glitterbug?" Really?

She nodded. "Yep!"

Gently, he shook her hoof. "Moondancer," he replied.

He continued to slowly flip through the drawings, while she happily rambled on about her knowledge of changelings. It was amusing to see someone discussing his kind with such happy enthusiasm, but something about it felt... off. It seemed ponies knew a lot about changeling biology, complete with inner workings, as well as the basics of changeling magic and the mechanics and methods of feeding, but knew nothing at all about their society or culture, even as meager as it must seem in comparison. He didn't enjoy the implications of that rather limited selection of knowledge.

Fortunately, she was far more engrossed in discussing what she knew, rather than how she knew it, and he wasn't about to ask.

Soon the conversation had drifted onto her broader studies, segueing with a comparison between changeling physiology and that of insects, and eventually leading into her discussing her other studies, and her experiences there at the university.

"...so I finally found the dorm building, complete opposite side of campus from where that mare told me," she said. "But then when I do get there, I--sun and moon, it's that late already?"

Nictis jerked back at the sudden exclamation, while Glitterbug was staring in wide-eyed horror at a clock on the opposite wall of the café. Then he jerked again as she exploded into a flurry of motion, grabbing at the scattered papers and books that had been mostly neglected since they started talking. "No, no, no, no, no, I'm going to be late!"

He started to stand to get out of her way, but she simply dove out over the table, knocking off the last pair of books. He caught them in his magic as she regained her hooves and quickly snatched them up as well. She quickly tossed on her saddlebags, half her materials clutched to her chest in one hoof, the rest floating in her magic in a blob of books and papers. She lunged to the door, then skidded and spun to a stop, looking back to him. "I've got to go! I... the thing and stuff... you! I, uh, we can finish this up tomorrow if you're here, okay?"

Nictis was sure he looked rather shocked by the sudden frenzy of activity. "I don't know," he said, feeling a little uneasy at this part. "I travel around a lot, I'm not even sure where I'll be tomorrow. But if I am here--"

"Great!" she shouted happily. "I've got to go, bye!"

With that, she bolted out the door, hurrying along in a stumbling three-legged gallop and a steady stream of indistinct, panicked mutters.

Nictis stood there in silence for a few moments, broken finally when he chuckled, a smile growing across his disguised face. It's almost too bad I'm avoiding any relations longer than a single encounter, he mused. She's kind of fun, and I think that's the best meal I've gotten in a few weeks.

His smile faded at that final thought, his ears drooping.

Moondancer is never coming here again.

Nictis idly turned the teacup between two large hooves. They were much bigger than he was used to, making the action somewhat clumsy. His disguise for the day was a stallion he had dubbed Trail Dust, an earth pony with a dirt-colored coat and a sturdy frame, reminiscent of some of the farmers he had seen. It was the largest form he had ever taken, and incredibly strong, but the bulk made the body feel awkward. Nothing quite bent right, or at least how he expected it to, and he had several times bumped into things or simply stumbled on his over-large hooves. He simply added "always been clumsy" onto the meager back-story he had come up with for the disposable disguise, and focused on the cup between his hooves.

It gave him something to focus on other than Glitterbug, sitting in the same booth she had the previous day. She had her nose stuck in her books, but he'd caught several hopeful glimpses toward the door when a pony entered the café, followed by the subtle frown when she didn't recognize them. He sighed silently, lifting the cup in both hooves--managing to not spill any, this time--and took a sip. Part of him regretted going there again. He knew she'd be there, probably hoping Moondancer would show up, and that he'd have to see her disappointment when that nonexistent pony didn't show. He hadn't expected it to be quite so noticeable, though. Each time she glanced up only to see that the incoming pony wasn't the one she had hoped for, the little frown that followed grew a little bit more pronounced.

Another part of him told him that he should be there, that he should see this. It was another reminder of what he was doing. Even these little, short-lived deceptions weren't without consequences.

He scowled down at his cup. Maybe I should just find some bad pony, some pony I could hate. Some pony I wouldn't mind seeing hurt. At least then he wouldn't feel bad if things fell apart. Not much, anyway. The thought of being all nice and friendly to somepony like Big Shot argued rather strongly against the idea. He wasn't sure he could do that. Certainly, he wouldn't enjoy it.

That's the problem, isn't it? I can make myself content, but hurt others... or I can avoid hurting others, but suffer myself... but no matter what I do, I can't have both. It's just... it's not fair...

He glanced over at Glitterbug again, and an instant later, she glanced over at him.

They both immediately looked away. As the minutes passed by, he caught a couple more glances from the corner of his eye. He quickly finished off his tea, left a couple bits to pay for it, and walked out. He didn't want to stay there, being the creepy stallion she'd caught ogling her. He'd probably caused enough damage already.

He slipped into the alley nearby, away from the crowded streets. It was easier to think there, slightly away from the crowds.

What now?

He lingered there, trying to answer that question.

Moondancer stepped through the front door of the café.

Nictis hid his unease well, though his mind was still racing, still torn as to what he should be doing. Part of him had wanted to just leave, to find a different place to hunt, to continue going on without any connections to any ponies, but even that wasn't working. He'd barely talked with Glitterbug, but he'd seen the disappointment when her newfound acquaintance had not returned. Even the most casual contact was still hurting ponies with his deceptions. It would be brief, but still there, and while he could overlook it for the typical bar and nightclub patron out for a carefree night of enjoyment, he couldn't do the same with a pony that he actually liked. With her enthusiasm and friendly nature, he couldn't help liking her. Knowing ponies, there would be many more, too.

He'd sympathize with them. He'd like them. And then he would deceive them. Feed off them.

But what other option did he have? The best he could do was to keep the damage to a minimum: make those ponies happy while he was there, but not so happy that they felt too close to him, and above all, to avoid letting them feel too much attachment. Eventually, he'd have to leave, or he'd be discovered again, and any attachment would only be a source of pain for both sides. Then he'd move on, and do it again to a different set of ponies. The changeling way.

It all just seemed so unfair, but what could he do?

The tiniest little voice in the back of his head contemplated giving up. Just walking out into the street, dropping his disguise, and... just let whatever was coming happen.

The knowledge that he would even momentarily consider such a final and fatalistic act shook him to the core.

It was an abandonment of everything it meant to be a changeling. A changeling doesn't just curl up and die when times were tough. A changeling endures...

...But I haven't been a good changeling for such a long time, have I?

He had eventually shaken himself from his thoughts and retaken his disguise as Moondancer. He was not going to just give up, even as weary as he was. He would do what he had to do.

Glitterbug's eyes lit up when she saw Moondancer enter, though Nictis was a little surprised by the emotions he felt. The happiness was there, though a bit subdued compared to what he had expected from her anxious watching. She also seemed to be feeling a mix of nervousness, excitement, and doubt toward him. Nictis winced inwardly at that, but outwardly he smiled as he walked over to her table.

"I was starting to wonder if I'd see you again," she said as Nictis stepped near. As an afterthought, she gestured to the bench in silent invitation.

"Sorry," he said, taking a seat. The mare's body was significantly more comfortable to move around in than the bulky form he had only a few minutes earlier. "I hope you haven't been waiting too long?"

"I've been keeping busy with my studies," she replied over the spread of books and papers. "Though speaking of which, I have to go soon. I don't want to be late for class again."

"Oh! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to cause problems for you."

She gave a nervous smile. "Oh, no, it's not your fault. I was the one who wasn't paying attention to the time. It's not like you know my class schedule."

"I guess, though I was the one distracting you from your studies."

"Oh, don't worry about that," she said with a wave of her hoof. "I've been doing nothing but study for months, now, even before school started. I'm pretty well ahead of my classmates already. Besides, it's not like I have anything else to do with my time." She visibly fought the natural reflex to fold her ears back in embarrassment, her unease growing at the statement.

He tried to ignore the analytical side of his mind that immediately went toward exploiting what it had identified as a weakness in her defenses, an opportunity for him to act. He pushed it to the background. "Still, I'll try not to make you late again. When do you have to go?"

"In another twenty minutes," she said, her magic starting to gather up some of the scattered study materials. "I guess you have good timing. Even though I love this stuff, I should probably take a break. I don't think there's anything I'm going to learn from a fourth read-through of the textbook that I didn't retain from the first three."

"Well, at least I won't feel too bad about interrupting your studying," he said with a chuckle.

The pause in conversation stretched on for several long seconds. Eventually, Nictis spoke up again. "So other than classes and studying, what do you do?"

After a moment of hesitation, she allowed a shy smile. "Well, I eat and sleep occasionally."

Another pause, as Nictis raised an eyebrow. "...That's it?"

"Yeah. My studies keep me pretty busy. Not that I'm complaining, I've been having a lot of fun, and the classes are fascinating! Well, maybe not that introductory writing class, or whatever it was called, that's a waste of time. But I'm in four different science classes, and they're all exciting. Especially my insect biology class. Professor Pillbug is a great teacher and really funny, he--"

Nictis just smiled, nodding occasionally while she talked. All the nervousness she had shown earlier was forgotten. It was nice to see someone so happy, and all he had to do was be there, listening. Of course, it probably would have helped if he had understood some of the things she discussed.

But eventually, the stories wound down, that hint of nervousness and uncertainty growing in Glitterbug as she glanced at the clock. "I should go soon," she said eventually.

"Have fun at class?"

She hesitated, emotions jumbling slightly. For a pony, she could be remarkably hard to read at times. "Hey, um... tomorrow's the weekend, so I won't be here, but I was wondering... well, I mean, I'm still new in town, and I don't really know anypony or have any friends here. Do you want to get together and, you know, hang out tomorrow?"

Any happiness Nictis was feeling fled from him, his content smile turning into a frown. "I'm not sure that's a good idea."

She blinked, clearly unhappy with the response. "What? Why not?"

Nictis looked away. A part of him wanted to just happily go along with the idea, to encourage a deeper affection that he could feed off of. He didn't absolutely need it; he was gathering enough energy to get by just from these more casual encounters, even if it was still so much less than he was used to. It was like a juicy steak dangled in front of a manticore, and an instinctive part of him wanted to simply leap at it.

But after seeing her so happy, so passionate about her interests, and having seen just a hint of the frailty that lay under it, he couldn't bear to think of being the one to break that happiness. Not again. "Because... I'm not a good pony to be friends with."

She was quiet for a moment, and frustratingly hard to read. He'd expected something to flare up, but instead, her emotions seemed to grow subdued. "Why not?" she asked, her voice curious, with a hint of concern.

His jaw tightened. "I'm not a good pony."

"You seem like a good pony," she countered.

"That's the problem," he grumbled, glancing to her before looking away again. "I might seem that way, but I'm not. I just end up hurting anypony I get close to. So I'd rather not get close to anypony anymore. That way I can't hurt them."

She stared at him for several seconds before frowning faintly. "That sounds really dumb."

Nictis blinked, turning to look back at her, and she quickly continued. "I mean, sure, never interacting with a pony means you'd be sure not to hurt them, at least not directly, but it seems pretty dumb to consider that the only way of doing so. Just don't... do whatever it is that hurts them."

He sighed. "It doesn't work that way," he replied. Then, quieter, he grumbled, "I can't change what I am. I can't change what I've done."

Another quiet stretch hung over them, broken by a single word. "So?"

He looked at her with a glare, but she continued. "Well, it's obvious you feel bad about whatever you've done. So just, you know, don't do it again?"

"It's not that simple," he said with a scowl, eyes turned down to the table.

"Why not?" she asked flatly.

He frowned a bit more, fixing her with a stare. He knew exactly why not, but that certainly wasn't something he could share. Instead, he stayed quiet.

Unfortunately, she took that as a sign of victory, showing a smug smile. "So we'll meet up tomorrow?"

In silence, he stared at her for several long seconds while every single reason to say no passed through his head.

"...Okay."

Days passed by in a meaningless procession. Many days were still devoted to randomly wandering clubs and bars, taking little nibbles of happiness from nameless ponies. An occasional day here and there featured volunteer work, earning the small number of bits she needed. And then, a couple days each week, he met with Glitterbug. They were short visits, scattered about, but the mare always seemed a little bit happier when he visited.

It was as if life was dangling her happiness in front of him, goading him into taking a bite.

All the while, the days slowly grew shorter and colder. His morning hot drink had swiftly changed from a way to hide in plain sight to a way to warm his body up after the cold night. Even with all the layers of boxes that he had made his shelter out of, the cold and wet seeped in relentlessly. On some mornings it was almost impossible to hide his shivering. Glitterbug had certainly noticed, and he had made a quick excuse about a cheap apartment and not enough blankets.

Despite the cold, he was determined to endure.

At least he was well-fed, no longer feeling as if he was a couple missed meals away from starvation. He had Glitterbug to thank for that. She did seem happy around him, which was nice

"So how about you?" she asked over her sketchbook, doodles of changelings filling many of the pages. "Where do you come from?"

He frowned a little, setting down the hot cup he'd been cradling in his hooves. She'd been prying at his past ever since that second visit, still trying to figure out why he was so reluctant to make friends. No doubt she thought she was being incredibly subtle about it, too.

"Why does that matter?" he asked as neutrally as he could.

"Because, I'd like to know more about my friend," she said with a smug grin and her usual emphasis on the last word. "And I've been talking plenty about my past, but you've not said a word about yours. So come on, I want to hear something!"

He frowned at her, and she smiled back, obstinately and willfully ignorant of his disapproval. Even if she didn't get an answer now, she'd just keep asking, just as she kept emphasizing the word "friend." He'd have to share something eventually.

It'd probably be easier if he hadn't avoided thinking up a detailed background for Moondancer.

Time to improvise.

"There's not really much to tell. I was an orphan until I grew up. I spent a long time in Manehattan. I made a good friend. A couple friends, actually, but one in particular, but... well, I ruined everything. We had a particularly bad break-up, so I left. Then I arrived here." He shrugged. "That's it."

"That's not a very good story," she said in a disapproving tone. "Come on, you've got to give some details."

"There's not much to share," he replied. "The only interesting parts were when I was with... my friend. And I'm not talking about that."

"Why not?" she asked with a roll of her eyes. "I'm just going to keep asking!"

He glared back at her. "Because I did some horrible things, Glitter. You wouldn't like me if you knew what I did."

She set her sketchpad down, leaving the half-drawn changeling unfinished. "I'm pretty sure you're wrong."

"Oh really?" he asked, irritation creeping into his voice. "Well how about this: that friend of mine? When I first met him, he was an orphan, too. We lived in the same orphanage, and I basically trapped him there, keeping him from being adopted, all for my own needs. So yeah, I took advantage of an orphan and abused his trust for years, all while pretending to be his friend."

She blinked, a rush of surprise and unease coming from her. "I... I'm sure it wasn't your fault that--"

"Intentionally," he growled.

"What?"

"I did it on purpose." He looked away, glaring down at his cup. "I was alone and selfish, so I sabotaged every chance he would have to get adopted just so I could act sympathetic to him every time he got sad. I ruined his life for years just to serve my own purposes."

His voice grew quieter. "It wasn't until later that I started to like him, too. I loved him, even. He loved me, and all because I showed a friendly face while stabbing him in the back. And then he found out what I had done to him, and... and it was all ruined."

Glitterbug was silent for a long time after that, though her mind was clearly racing. All sorts of emotions flashed by in a blur; he could sense a good amount of unease and concern about him, but also a surprising amount of sympathy. Finally, she spoke. "You did love him, though?"

He just nodded.

She thought for a minute. "Would you do it again?"

"What? No, of course not." He sighed. "I wish I hadn't done it the first time, but saying I didn't know any better just... sounds hollow."

She considered this for another moment, then nodded. "Yep, you were wrong."

Nictis frowned. "About what?"

"About me hating you for knowing what you've done," she replied with a little smile, though it vanished a moment later. "Don't get me wrong, I think what you did was horrible, but it's pretty clear you feel bad about it, and I take it that it's safe to assume you wouldn't do it again?"

"No, I wouldn't," he replied. "But I wouldn't say it's safe for anypony to assume so."

"Well, I think that's good enough for me," she said as she started to gather up her study supplies. It was almost time for class again.

Nictis was simply staring at her, unsure exactly how to feel about this. "I'm pretty sure you wouldn't feel so unconcerned about all this if I had done it to you."

"No, I'd probably need some time to get over it," she said with a frown, though it was short-lived. "But you're not doing anything like that."

"You don't know that."

She prodded him with a book before tucking it into her bags. "Nothing bad has happened to me in quite a while, so if you were doing something under-hoofed, it must be pretty insignificant, right?"

He rolled his eyes. "You're seriously going to listen to me tell you all about how I ruined a pony's life, and you still want to be around me, even though I might do the same to you?"

"Yep!"

Again, he found himself simply staring at her. "...You're weird."

"Well, duh," she said with a smug smile. "I'm a filly that plays around with bugs all day, but that doesn't have much to do with this."

He continued to stare, this time in silence.

She sighed. "Look, I'm sure pretty much everypony has done something bad. What--"

"And what kind of bad things have you done?"

Glitterbug stopped, blinking a moment. "Uh, well... I... I guess I stepped on a spider a couple days ago. A Whitetail Leaping Spider. I wasn't looking--"

"Oh come on!" Nictis grumbled. "That doesn't count! That's not even close to the same thing."

"Well I'm sorry, it's not like I've got some big list of bad things I've done!" she shot back with a little frown, then paused to think. "I guess... I guess the worst I've done would probably be some arguments with my parents. There were a few times when I just got so mad with them, and we'd yell, and I know I called them a bunch of mean things. I still feel kinda bad about some of it. But we still love each other."

Nictis just grumbled wordlessly.

"So do you think I'm a bad pony?" she asked.

"No," Nictis replied. "But that's still not close to what I did."

She groaned, rolling her eyes. "Oh, fine. Okay, how about Princess Luna? Do you think she is a bad pony?"

"No, of course not. Why should I?"

"Oh, I don't know," she said with a little shrug. "Maybe because she tried to pull that whole never-ending-night thing a couple times. I've thought a bit on it, and it kind of seems like pretty much everypony would die from that, except maybe the lucky few who can figure out some magical means of getting food and warmth. I think double-attempted-genocide trumps you."

He frowned. "Yeah, well... she's a pretty pony princess. I'm... about as far from that as you can get."

Glitterbug chuckled. "I don't know, I'm sure if you got a good styling and maybe a decent dress, you could be rather pretty, too."

Once again, he glared at her, and she raised her hooves. "Okay, okay. But my point stands. Just because you've done something bad doesn't mean you're a bad pony."

He sighed, slumping against the table and grumbling. "I wish that were true."

"It is true."

He just sat there, silent.

Eventually, Glitterbug stood, slipping her saddlebags on. Then, almost as an afterthought, she pulled out a thick, woolen blanket, floating it over to him.

Nictis blinked. "What's this?"

"It's a blanket," she said with a hint of a smirk. "You sleep under it, and it keeps you warm."

"I know what a blanket is," he shot back, pushing it away with a hoof. "I meant, why are you trying to give it to me?"

She floated it back after his push. "Because you always look so cold when I meet you here, and I don't like seeing my friend being so uncomfortable."

He pushed it again. "I don't need it."

"Sure you don't," she said. "I'm still giving it to you."

"Well I'm not taking it," he replied, looking away.

"Suit yourself," she said, then dropped it on the table. "I guess I'll just leave it sitting here for the first pony in need. Bye!"

Before he could object, she trotted off, leaving him alone with the unwanted gift.

The rain came down hard and steady, slowly seeping into every crack and crevice, and bringing with it a piercing cold. Nictis huddled in his shelter. He wanted to be angry with Glitterbug, but he was increasingly unsure why. Grumbling, he pulled the edge of the blanket tighter around himself. It was really hard to stay angry with her when he was more comfortable than he had been in weeks.

Winter had arrived, leaving the city blanketed in snow. It had been the season Nictis had been dreading, and yet its arrival had been surprisingly mild. The weather was cold, but the snow didn't go soaking into his makeshift shelter to leave him wet and shivering. That wasn't to say that winter was pleasant... but it was tolerable.

He stomped his hooves several times to shake off the snow that clung to the fur of his disguise--dumb ponies with their dumb fur--before stepping into the warmth of the café. Glitterbug hadn't arrived yet, so he ordered an extra-large cup of hot chocolate, then sat at their usual booth. He took slow sips, clutching the cup in both hooves as he let the warmth slowly seep into him.

The first cup was finished, and a second was halfway there, before Glitterbug arrived.

"Hey Moony, sorry I'm late!" She sat on the bench opposite him, full of happiness and excitement. He belatedly noted that she wasn't carrying any of her books with her. Instead, she floated along a folded newspaper. Nictis avoided looking at it.

"It's okay," he replied. "Though I was starting to wonder if you were going to make it."

She chuckled softly. "Oh, of course. No, I was just packing. Though on that note, I'm not here for long, I've got to catch a train in an hour and a half."

"A train?" Nictis asked, raising an eyebrow. "You're going on a trip?"

"Yep!" she replied, grinning. "I'm going to Ponyville to visit Counselor Sky!"

Well, she's certainly excited by this... whatever it is. "Counselor Sky?"

"Yeah," she said, her grin slipping a little. "You know, the 'counselor on changeling affairs?'"

"Oh," he replied with a frown. "I don't really pay attention to politics."

She gave him a strange look. "Or news in general, it seems. Anyway, we've corresponded a few times before, and now he's invited me to visit him in his home to answer any questions I have. I'm just so excited! What an opportunity!"

"What kind of questions?" he asked, although he had a good idea where this was going.

"About changelings, of course," she replied with a thin smirk.

Nictis tried not to scowl, particularly as he began to wonder if this Sky fellow had been the source of those very anatomical drawings of changelings. Equestria seemed to deem the problem serious enough to have a counselor specifically for the matter of dealing with changelings, and it made sense that he would know more than any pony about the species. Although it seemed this knowledge was disturbingly limited to anatomical details.

Right. Not thinking about it.

Fortunately, she didn't offer any details. She just ordered a quick cup of tea, and they sat there in silence, enjoying the warmth of their beverages.

Right up until she decided to blindside him.

"So what do you think of changelings?"

Nictis coughed into his mug, then set it back down on the table. Despite her regular drawings, she hadn't said anything about changelings since their first meeting, and he had been content to leave the subject entirely alone. "Well, that's random. And you did that on purpose, didn't you?"

"No, it's not," she said. "And yes, I did." And she smiled.

Nictis rolled his eyes. "I don't know. They look kind of neat. I thought we covered that already?"

"We discussed interest, yes. But this is different. Besides being interesting, what do you think of them?"

He sighed, slowly rolling his mug between his hooves. "Well... they're deceptive little monsters that feed off ponies. Dangerous, too. You saw what they did in Canterlot. Kidnapped a pony just to feed off her husband-to-be, and then tried to enslave every single pony there. They might need to steal love to survive, but ponies would probably be better off if the whole lot of them were wiped out."

Glitterbug stared at him, brows raised. "That's... rather harsh, don't you think?"

"Maybe," he grumbled and took a quick drink. "But it's still probably the best choice for ponies. Changelings will still need food, and that'll just mean that so long as there are any changelings around, they're going to keep preying on ponies. It's sad that it has to be that way, but there's no way around it."

She was still fixing him with a strange look. "What? Sure there is. Ponies and changelings can coexist just fine."

Nictis snorted out a disparaging laugh. "Don't be naive. Do you really think there are many ponies that would be happy to be prey for a bunch of changelings?"

Glitterbug smirked. "I'm quite certain that I wouldn't mind feeding a changeling so long as they don't over-do it."

"Right," Nictis replied dryly with a roll of his eyes. "But we've already established that you're weird."

For a moment, they were both silent. She was rather strange, and rather... amused. A little nervous, and a fair bit excited, but mostly amused. He glanced back to her, catching her thin smile. "...What?"

"Nothing," she said, sounding far too amused to be convincing. "Just enjoying the irony."

"What irony?" he asked with a scowl.

"You calling me naive," she said with a faint chuckle. "You really don't have a clue, do you?"

"A clue about what?" he asked, irritation rising.

"Oh, nothing," she replied, her feelings growing even more amused and excited. Despite that, she managed to play it cool, rising from her seat with a smug little smile. "Anyway, I need to get going if I'm going to catch my train. Here, I got you a gift to entertain yourself with while I'm gone."

She set the folded newspaper on the table. Nictis pointedly ignored it, continuing to glare at her. For a moment she just stood there, then finally rolled her eyes, snickered, and walked off. "Bye, Moony. See you soon."

Nictis grumbled something that could be generously construed as "Goodbye." She could be rather frustrating at times, but it was easy enough to remember why he still liked her, despite that. She was decent enough company when she wasn't verbally prodding him. Better company than most of the random ponies he'd met. A bit naive at times, but she meant well. And she was something... familiar.

With a sigh, he looked down at the paper and reluctantly nudged it flat to look at the front page. Then he simply sat there, motionless, staring dumbfounded at what he saw.

The headline wasn't the same kind of mind-warping irrationality as the last headline he had read, months back. It simply stated:

COUNSELOR SKY PROMOTES CHANGELING AMNESTY

It didn't make any sense, but it wasn't something that was intrinsically and instinctively wrong. Not that he had any time to contemplate it, as he was transfixed by the picture that accompanied the article.

He had to check the caption to make sure he actually saw what he thought he saw. The caption seemed clear enough: "Sky addressing the Canterlot nobility in regards to the planned policy." Again he looked to the picture. It made no sense, and yet, there it was, plain to see.

Counselor Sky was a changeling.

Chapter 21: Another Way

Chapter 21: Another Way

At first glance, Ponyville struck him as being no different from any of the other small Equestrian towns he had seen. The buildings were all of the same rural architecture that was so prevalent in the smaller settlements, the layout of the town itself held the same clean and pleasant style with many open spaces and fields, and the ponies all seemed as friendly as ever. Sure, there were a few little things that broke from expectations, but they were generally minor. A bakery made to look like a gingerbread house might be a little odd, but certainly not all that unusual. It probably helped business, even.

The building set within the body of a still-living tree was a new one, though.

Nictis lingered in the shadows at the edge of the alley, looking at the unusual building that advertised itself as, of all things, a library. Strictly speaking, he didn't need to hide. None of the ponies there seemed to think anything of a new pony wandering about, but he couldn't help feeling a little uncomfortable. Already his heart was beating faster, a little twinge of adrenaline teasing at the edge of his nerves. It was as if his body was certain everything would go wrong at any moment, and was getting ready to flee. The way his body looked at the moment, or more properly, the particular disguise he had taken, was just making things worse.

It made it rather hard to simply stand there, doing nothing, but he managed. He was there for a purpose.

He'd been waiting for a good fifteen minutes before that purpose emerged from the library, and a hint of panic crept into his senses again at the sheer strangeness of what he saw.

The changeling, Sky, emerged from the library. He gave a happy call back to somepony inside, waving goodbye, and then shut the door. Nictis looked him over intently, as he had done frequently while shadowing the other changeling around town. Sky looked fit and healthy, his carapace so smooth and glossy that it could have been polished. Strangely, he also wore a piece of jewelry, a semi-circle of silver held close at the base of his neck by a silver chain, adorned with a blue gem. On top of that, he looked so happy.

He was also clearly the changeling that had been reproduced so many times in Glitterbug's drawings. The details matched too perfectly.

Sky smiled and casually trotted along down the snowy street, while Nictis looked on, watching him going down the street in full view of so many ponies. Some of the ponies seemed quite friendly with him, greeting him with smiles and the occasional wave. Some seemed indifferent, and a few looked to him with a degree of uncertainty as he passed, but the majority seemed content with his presence.

This is so weird. So... wrong...

Nictis slipped out of the alley, snow crunching under the hooves of his disguise as he followed along, blending in among the various ponies traveling back and forth. Even as much as he tried to reassure himself that nopony would suspect him, he knew his choice of disguise was a risk. He was in the form of Meadow Song again, and his instincts screamed out about the danger of assuming a compromised disguise. Despite that, he had taken the form just after arriving in town. It might not make sense, but... whatever happened next, he had the feeling that day was going to be an important day in his life, one way or another. Perhaps it was nostalgia, but Meadow felt like a rather fitting choice for the occasion.

He followed along from a distance, silently observing. A few times he had to stop, pretending to look at something in a shop window or a pretty sight when the other changeling stopped to talk with a pony. He still couldn't believe his eyes every time, seeing a changeling and a pony engaging in a short, friendly chat, both smiling.

Even knowing that a changeling was living openly in this town, it was hard for him to accept it as true. Part of him insisted it was a trick, that no changeling would possibly expose themselves to so much risk. That's why he was tailing Sky, observing him from secrecy to see if he could find any flaw in the ruse, but there was none.

This is actually happening. How is this actually happening?

It was not long before Sky arrived another building and entered it. Nictis stopped a ways back, looking at the structure. It was a home. Sky's home, in fact, the same place he had started following the other changeling. It had been easy to get directions to the lone changeling's home; something as unusual as that had stuck out in ponies minds, it seemed. He had waited, intent on discovering as much as he could before approaching Sky. He wanted to be as prepared as he could.

As he stared at the closed door of the changeling's house, he knew he was no closer to being prepared than he was the moment he stepped into town.

Instinct told him to run away, to avoid this place at any cost, but he did his best to push those thoughts away.

I... I need to just do this. I need to go up there, and...

He swallowed, then lifted a hoof and took a single step. Then another. Slowly, the door drew closer, his heart pounding harder with each step.

When he reached the door, he hesitated, glancing back. Trained instinct mixed with paranoia, telling him that at any moment, some pony would notice what he was doing and get suspicious. After a few moments, he forced himself to lift a faintly trembling hoof and knock it against the door.

Silence. He steeled himself, trying to hide the fear. Nothing suspicious going on here, he thought. Just another pony, just... doing pony things. He glanced back to see if anypony had found his behavior suspicious. He was well aware that doing so itself looked suspicious, but he couldn't help it.

The door opened, and his attention snapped back.

Sky stood there at the door, a polite smile on his face. "Hello?"

Nictis stared wide-eyed, his heartbeat racing. For the first time in almost a decade, he found himself face-to-face with another changeling. It was something he had practically given up on ever seeing again, and now--

Stop staring!

He jerked his gaze away, glancing back to see if anypony had noticed his reaction. Then his attention snapped back to Sky. His mouth moved silently for a moment before he managed to speak. "I... heard that there was a changeling living here," he said, unable to keep a faint tremble from his voice. "In the open..."

He could see the other changeling's expression change very slightly, and a moment later Sky stepped back, lifting a hoof to gesture back. "Would you like to come in?"

Nictis hesitated, glancing back. What would ponies think of another pony walking into a changeling's house?

Sky spoke up again. "Or I could come out if you'd rather."

"No!" Nictis said quickly as his attention snapped back to Sky, and he stepped inside. As an afterthought, he paused to tap his hooves on the ground, shaking the snow from them. "No. It's... much more comfortable in here."

The other changeling smiled at this. "My name's Sky," he said, in a pleasant tone that seemed to suggest this was nothing unusual to him. "Would you like anything to drink?"

Nictis nodded silently, beginning to look around the inside of the house. Sky trotted off, leaving him alone for the moment as he continued to look. It all seemed so... normal. He wasn't sure what he was expecting, but seeing what could have easily been any other pony's home just seemed so strange. It was perhaps a bit on the sparse side for furnishing and decoration, but it seemed decent enough. In fact, it looked like this changeling was doing quite well for himself.

That made it all even more weird.

A minute later Sky returned, a pair of steaming cups floating in a field of green magic. He moved one over to Nictis, who took it in his own magic. The scent of hot chocolate met his nose, though he didn't pay the cup any attention. His mind was elsewhere.

After several seconds, Sky spoke again. "So where are you from? I hope it wasn't too long of a trip."

"Oh." Crap, what do I say? Um... "I guess Hoofington originally, but I really just travel around. I don't really stay in one place." His heart was pounding faster. It was a simple enough of an improvisation, being basically true. His life had been completely fluid, flowing wherever events took him. Now, however, he found a changeling living openly, teasing the possibility of something... better. The next part came quietly, as if speaking too loud might ruin the idea. "I, um, had kind of thought about staying here. In Ponyville." Again he looked around. It all just seemed so impossible, and yet, there it was.

"Well then," Sky said, "I'm guessing you must have questions, to have brought you this far."

So many questions, he thought uneasily as they raced through his mind, but there was one thing he wanted to know above all else, the entire reason he had come here. He set the cup of hot chocolate aside, still untouched. "How did you do... this?" he asked, gesturing around the room with one foreleg.

Sky looked confused by the question, his head tilting to the side. "I'm sorry?"

Nictis hesitated. "You... you're a changeling. But you're living among ponies. And they know it. And..." This is all just so wrong! "...How?"

Instead of the suspicion or unease that he had feared the question might draw, he saw Sky's smile grow a little. "Well, it's a long story. The simple version?" He shrugged a little. "Well, basically I started by just... showing them who I was."

Dead silence. Nictis stared for several seconds. "You... just showed them?"

He nodded. "It wasn't easy, and I have to admit I was scared at first, but that's how it started."

...That's insane, he thought. He instinctively glanced aside, as if expecting to see somepony sneaking up on him, ready to jump him at any moment. It... this can't be right. It's a trap, or... or... He stepped back, nearly trembling. I should run away now, before they catch on. I... I shouldn't have come here!

He stopped after a single step, frozen in place. I... I can't just keep running. Maybe... maybe this is real? He looked back to Sky. There was unease there, but there was also sympathy. He's exposed to all the world, but he's still happy. And... ponies like him. Trust him. I... I came here for this. I can do this. I need to...

He shuddered a little, adrenaline biting at his nerves as he tried to focus. If he accepted what Sky said, if he went through with it, everything would change. There was no going back. If it went badly, then at best he might escape, to go on as he had been. At worst, he would lose everything. But then, he had hardly anything to lose. If it worked... maybe everything would be better. Maybe he wouldn't have to worry about whether he would be found out. Maybe he wouldn't have to worry about hurting ponies with his deceptions just to get by. Maybe he could actually have a life, friends, happiness.

Spark.

And then he reached out with his mind, tugging at the strings of his magic until his spell unraveled.

Green flame flashed across his form, tearing away the form of Meadow Song to expose the trembling changeling beneath to a very surprised Sky. The two changelings stared at each other in silence, both seeming at a complete loss for words. When the silence grew too much, Nictis swallowed, and in a quiet and fearful voice asked, "Then... what comes next?"

"Next," Sky echoed numbly. An instant later, Nictis felt hope, happiness, and even a faint affection coming from the other changeling. The feelings were clear and unguarded, as if the other changeling were offering them freely to him. It was a surprisingly trusting gesture. Unlike ponies, changelings didn't generate the same emotional energies; feeding off the energy from one changeling would deprive them of that energy, and yet, Sky was leaving his emotions completely unguarded. Sure, he could cut off the flow as soon as he felt something going on, but not before Nictis could take a large bite of it. Such trust and generosity was almost unheard of.

Sky smiled, his whole expression brightening by the moment. "...Next, I think we should talk to Pinkie Pie about arranging a welcome party."

"...What?"

"A welcome party!"

Nictis blinked, his chitin crawling at the images that came with the other changeling's suggestion; him, alone, undisguised, surrounded by ponies. "A... a party? I don't know. I mean, wouldn't that be a little... public?"

"Yeah, that's the point!" Sky said happily. "It's kind of a tradition here, and what better way to show everypony that you're just like any other pony? I mean, you know, other than being a changeling."

"That's kind of a big difference!" Nictis blurted, taking another step back, but Sky just shook his head.

"Not that big," he said. "Besides, isn't that why you're here?"

"I, uh..." Nictis wavered, shuffling his hooves awkwardly. Of course it was, but it was a big leap to go from just thinking such things to plunging himself into the middle of the herd, exposed and helpless.

But... I've started this. I need to see it through.

Nictis nodded.

"Good," Sky said, grinning. "And the first step is showing these ponies that you can be honest and that you can be trusted, and the best way to do that is by showing yourself and putting your trust in them! See?"

Nictis stared for several seconds, marveling at the juxtaposition of Sky's statement making complete sense and yet being absolutely insane. It did make sense, after all. Infiltrators used the same basic principles to gain the trust of their targets, but the trust and honesty they offered were acts, not such a dangerous truth! Changelings do not expose themselves! And yet, there Sky stood, proving that long-accepted truth to be wrong. Unable to word a proper response, Nictis simply nodded again.

"And besides," Sky said, "Ponies will probably be a little more friendly to somepony who's responsible for them having a great party, right?"

"...Yeah," Nictis added. That part at least made sense, although he imagined their enthusiasm would be rather less when the "pony" responsible turned out to actually be a changeling.

"See, this will be perfect!" Sky reached out and patted Nictis firmly on the shoulder. "Come on, let's go talk to Pinkie."

"Pinkie," Nictis repeated numbly as Sky trotted to the door, and his eyes went wide as he realized what the other changeling was asking. "Wait, you want me to go out there? Like this?"

"Trust me, it'll be fine!"

Nictis stared as Sky stepped out. His mind screamed out: Why should I trust you?--but part of him looked to the emotions flowing freely from that other changeling. Sky was happy that he was there. He liked him. He was even willing to put his trust in Nictis, a new changeling that he had only just met. Whether the plan made sense or seemed utterly insane, Sky clearly thought that what he was doing would help Nictis.

Nictis looked to the other changeling, who was smiling back, holding the door open for him. With a deep, shuddering breath, Nictis forced himself forward, to step back outside.

The street was not very busy, but it might as well have been completely filled for how oppressive it felt to Nictis. It wasn't like in Horseshoe Falls. There he had been running, soon to escape the crowds. Here there was no escape. Here, every pony would see what he was, and he was supposed to just stay there, the focus of all their attention. Every instinct screamed to run, to hide, to do something. Instead, he focused on following Sky, who was trotting along so happily that he was practically bouncing, rambling on about how great it was to finally have another friendly changeling around, about how they had a great party to look forward to, and all sorts of other exclamations of optimism and excitement.

Nictis just did his best to keep pace, his head and body low, as if he might hide there just by being so much less noticeable than the exuberant changeling leading the way. His eyes looked this way and that, a constant lookout for threats... but none were coming. There was no screaming. No ponies leaping at him. No calls for guards. No anger or hatred or harsh glares. There was the occasional surprise, and the even more rare looks of unease, but far more common was simple curiosity.

This doesn't make any sense, he thought, picking up the pace to stay closer to Sky. It's all so wrong, but this is far too elaborate to be a simple trick...

The strangest reaction was from a yellow-coated mare with a curly orange mane, who exchanged greetings and a wave with Sky. She had hardly finished her greeting when she noticed that there were two changelings walking by her, not just the one that she was familiar with. She stared in surprise for several moments. Then he saw her do what was probably the single creepiest thing he had ever seen a pony do: she smiled and nodded to him. The smile was small, the nod was faint, but they were there. He simply continued to stare in disbelief as he numbly followed Sky.

This is really happening. I don't know how, but this is really happening!

For such a short walk, Nictis was feeling exhausted by the time they reached their destination, his legs weak and trembling from long-faded adrenaline. They had arrived at that same oddly decorated bakery he had seen before. As Sky opened the door to enter, Nictis hesitated. Traveling the streets was one thing, where he could keep distance and fly off if needed, but in a building he'd be practically trapped, pressed into close quarters with who knows how many ponies. He had to steel himself, to force his trembling legs to carry him inside.

The inside of the bakery did have several ponies, but he was thankful to note that it was still a fairly sparse crowd, only about half a dozen. He was still penned into a small space and outnumbered by ponies, but at least he wasn't completely surrounded, and the ponies seemed politely curious rather than afraid or angry. In fact, they were acting almost as if bizarre events like this were a common occurrence.

All except the poofy-maned pink mare on the far side of the room, looking out from behind the store's counter with wide eyes and a rather loud gasp.

Nictis cast a glance to Sky, who was simply grinning, and then looked back--only to have his view blotted out with pink. He had only glanced away for an instant, but she had cleared the space to press her face in so close that their noses bumped.

"Hi!" she called out, grinning.

Nictis jerked back, letting out a mangled sound halfway between a pony-like yelp and a changeling-like chirp. His shaky legs didn't quite cooperate, and an instant later he found himself laying on his back, legs in the air, while the pink pony just giggled.

"I like him," she said to Sky. "He's funny!" Then she hopped forward, her hooves landing on the floor on either side of him. "My name's Pinkie Pie! What's yours?"

He cringed, practically trapped there by that strange pony. "N-nictis," he stammered before his mind could even begin to freak out over him giving his real name to a pony.

Sky stepped forward, lightly placing a hoof on her shoulder. "Easy, Pinkie," he said with a hint of a chuckle. "I think you're scaring him."

"Scaring him?" Her grin vanished, replaced by a momentary look of concern as she stepped back--I'm free! Nictis thought--and offered a small smile. "You shouldn't be scared of me, Nunictis! I would never hurt a friend of Sky's. You're his friend, and he's my friend, so that just about makes you my friend, too!"

Nictis stammered in incomprehension until a simple observation hit him: she liked him. It wasn't a particularly strong feeling, but she truly did hold a small degree of affection for him, a changeling she had only just met. As strange and bizarre as her statement had been, she was telling the truth. Unable to quite process that, he numbly replied, "It's... just Nictis."

A pink hoof was suddenly right in front of him. "Glad to meet you Nictis!"

When he took her hoof, she hauled him upright--eliciting another chirp-yelp--and then shook it vigorously. "It's always good to meet a new friend, and I'm so happy Sky finally managed to find another changeling to... be..."

As her words trailed off, her eyes went wide. She abandoned the hoof-shake, turning to stare wide-eyed at Sky, with an expectant grin. "Sky! Did you bring him here for what I think you brought him here for?"

Nictis cringed back a step.

"That depends," Sky replied with a smug grin. "What do you think I brought him here for?"

"Welcome party?" she asked, bouncing on the tips of her hooves.

"Welcome party," Sky replied with a nod.

Pinkie lept up, pumping a forehoof in the air. "Woo, welcome party!" The cry drew some chuckles and eager murmurs among several of the ponies gathered there, and Nictis was shocked to see several of them smiling happily at the prospect of attending a welcome party for a changeling.

Pinkie landed from her celebrations, turning her grin back to Nictis. "Okay, is there anything special that I should include in a changeling 'Welcome to Ponyville' party? This needs to be the best that it can be, but I've only thrown a party for two changelings before--at least, as far as I know--and I still don't know what changelings do for parties! I need to fix that!"

Wait. What? "Two?" he asked.

"Oh, yeah. Sky and Chrysalis, but--"

"What?!" Nictis blurted, scrambling back wide-eyed. "You... t-the Queen... w-what?!"

Pinkie took on a guilty look. "Well, I didn't actually get to throw the party I had planned for her, and I didn't even know she was a changeling at the time." Then she frowned. "But she was a meanie, so I wouldn't actually throw her a party unless she apologizes!" She emphasized the last word with a stomp of her hoof. Then she hesitated, a thoughtful look crossing her face. She raised her hoof, lightly tapping it to her chin as she quickly murmured. "Hmm, unless a good party is what gets her to apologize..."

Nictis simply stared in wide-eyed disbelief. Sky snickered.

After a moment of silent contemplation, Pinkie blinked. "Wait, I can't spend time planning her party right now. I've got to plan your party! So, what kind of stuff do changelings do at their parties?"

"I, uh, we... we don't actually have parties."

Pinkie's smile faded, her eyes slowly going wide with shock as what he said sunk in. "...That's so sad!" she cried out and lunged forward, her forelegs closing around him.

Nictis tried to pull back, but he was too late. Instead, he could only struggle as she started to crush the life out of... no, wait. She was just hugging him. That was a strange sensation; he'd gotten used to the feel of two soft ponies hugging, but the feel of a soft and fleshy pony hugging his firmer, chitinous body, it felt like all sorts of new and weird. And... and the sympathy! His struggles ended abruptly as the emotion registered in his senses. He'd rarely felt such a strong sense of compassion and sympathy, but there she was, hugging a changeling and feeling sympathy for him!

She eventually drew back, letting her forehooves linger on his shoulders as she looked him in the eyes, her own watering just a tiny bit. "Nopony should ever have a life without parties," she said, giving a small, encouraging smile. "That goes for changelings, too."

Uncertain as to what he should do, he simply nodded.

A moment later the smile vanished again. "Wait!" She plunged a hoof into her mane, pulling out a watch. After a moment to check the time, she gasped. "Oh my goodness! I've got to get started now! I've got to make this the best party that I can, and there's so much I need to do!"

She dashed to the back of the store, headbutting the back door open and calling into the next room. "Mr. Cake! I've got to go, it's a party emergency!" A moment later she ran back over to them, skidding to a stop. "Party room! Here! Tonight! Eight o'clock!" And then finally she bolted out of the store, leaving the small bakery comparatively silent with her absence.

Nictis simply stared and blinked a few times. The whole situation had gotten to a level of weird that any fear he had simply couldn't sustain itself. "...What just happened?"

"Pinkie Pie happened," Sky replied with a snicker. "Don't worry, you'll get used to her." He paused, then chuckled again. "Or not."

Despite the absurdity of the situation and the lingering sense of lurking doom, he couldn't help but let out a single, nervous chuckle.

Then he groaned softly, his head starting to feel heavy, as if all the input and thoughts were physically weighing it down. "I... I think I need to sit down for a bit," he said, wavering slightly.

"Take a seat," Sky said, gesturing to a stool at one of the tables as he claimed the one opposite it. Nictis followed, sitting down. He rested his forelegs on the edge of the table and buried his face in his hooves, taking deep, calming breaths. His heart was still racing, and the exhaustion of faded adrenaline and anxiety was rapidly seeping into him. Even if he had logically acknowledged that he was--somehow!--not in imminent danger, his body refused to believe it just yet.

"Are you okay?" Sky asked.

"It's a lot to take in all at once," Nictis muttered through his hooves, taking another deep breath and sighing. "It's just... a little hard to accept that this is really happening. I was always so worried about being found out. It was drilled into our heads that being discovered meant death, but..." His hooves fell away, leaving him to stare numbly at the table. "Everything I was taught is a lie..."

Sky didn't say anything, but he didn't need to. Nictis could feel the surge of sympathy. Oh, how he had missed this, the simplicity of interacting with another changeling. None of the crude and vague expressions and careful wording to clumsily convey emotions. Instead, they simply felt them. Nictis could feel Sky's sympathy. Sky could sense Nictis's appreciation at the offer of comfort. Nictis could feel the slowly growing affection coming from Sky. It was all so simple and clear and honest.

"And..." He glanced over at the ponies at their tables, who somehow seemed to take no notice of the two changelings openly sitting there. "...Even if they really are willing to accept a changeling--and I'm still having a hard time accepting that--I don't know if they'd be willing to accept me..."

Concern. "Why not?"

"I've... done some bad things," Nictis said, slumping slightly.

Sky's smile shrank, but the feelings of sympathy never wavered. If anything, they grew. "I think we all have," Sky said, his voice a little lower. Nictis looked up, a little surprised to see the other changeling looking somewhat guilty. "I think I almost killed somepony in Canterlot. I can't be sure. I crashed pretty hard after the shield went up, so everything before that is still kind of a blur. I haven't been able to piece much together, but... I'm pretty sure that I hurt her. I might have almost killed her."

He paused for a moment, the gap filled with the silent emotional conversation of two changelings sympathizing with each other. When Sky spoke again, his voice sounded firmer, more confident. "A pony I greatly respect told me that everypony has done something that they regret, but they don't have to let that shape their future. Ponies are very forgiving creatures, at least to anypony who genuinely regrets what they've done."

Again, silence. There wasn't anything to say; Nictis knew the feeling of appreciation from him spoke more clearly than any words could. Still, he couldn't help smiling, just a tiny bit. "I just... I never thought I'd see something like this. Ever since I first came to Equestria, I always thought... none of this was for me. I could enjoy it for a short time, but then I'd go back to the hive. I knew that ponies would never accept some... monster. But... but none of that was true. They're really okay with this?"

Sky nodded. "Yes. Not all of them, there are still some that feel uncomfortable or dislike how things are going, but... well, Ponyville has seen me going around enough that hardly anypony thinks anything of it, and Canterlot is getting there, too." He let out a soft chuckle. "Heck, you're probably in more danger of being mobbed by ponies curious to learn about you than anypony coming to you in anger!"

Nictis managed a soft, nervous chuckle; he appreciated the attempt to lighten the mood, but laughter was a bit much to ask for just yet. He was still struggling to make sense of everything, but Sky was content to sit there in silence, offering him comfort until Nictis spoke again. "You were in the invasion?"

Sky nodded. "Yes. You?"

"No," Nictis replied. "I didn't know anything about it until I heard the news, and then..." He shook his head. "Do you know why it happened?"

"No more than any pony does," Sky replied with a shake of his head. "Anything before I crashed is fuzzy at best, and I can only remember vague bits and pieces of the hive. Or at least, I think it's the hive."

"Oh," Nictis said, disappointed. The snarky little voice in the back of his mind had recovered enough to point out that he was placing his future in the hooves of a potentially brain-damaged idealist, but he pointedly ignored it. "I'd kind of hoped you'd know. It doesn't make any sense to me."

"Or me," Sky said, frowning a little.

That brought another small smile to Nictis's face. Finally, someone--better yet, someling--who could share his opinion. It was short-lived, wiped away by the following thoughts. "It's hard to believe that the hive could be so... wrong about ponies. There's so much emphasis on how we have to hide, about how Equestria would wipe us out if we were discovered, but... but that's not true either, is it?" His eyes widened slightly as the thought registered. "There's not going to be any invasion or anything. The hive is safe, isn't it?"

Sky blinked, surprise clear in his emotions. "An invasion? No, of course not! Equestria isn't going to war. The attack on Canterlot was repelled, and the Royal Guard is far better equipped to combat infiltration. To tell the truth, the changeling hive is a notable issue to Celestia and Luna, but not as a threat. Not exactly. Now that changelings are widely known, it's likely that they'll have a much harder time successfully infiltrating Equestria to get love. They're concerned that the difficulties they may face in getting food might lead to famine... and that it may prompt Chrysalis to do something drastic."

"...Drastic might be good," Nictis said, prompting a small rush of anxiety from Sky that was quickly calmed by Nictis's own reassuring emotions. "Judging by the invasion, not as drastic as... as the Queen might do, but..." He timidly gestured a hoof around the room. "...This is pretty drastic by changeling standards, but somehow it's working." He looked over Sky a moment, again noting how fit and healthy the other changeling looked. It was particularly marked next to his own weary and worn appearance. "You look like you're doing pretty well for love."

Sky chuckled. "Well, maybe not full-blown love. I'm, uh, still working on that. But yeah, I get enough from friendship that I hardly know what to do with it all!"

"I still don't get that," Nictis said, slowly shaking his head. "They really just let you feed off them?"

The other changeling shrugged. "Well, yeah. Ponies are so full of love, I'm pretty sure any one of them could sustain a whole crowd of changelings without any ill effects. One changeling among a bunch of ponies is easy. Twilight even said that emotion feeding for an openly known changeling would probably be kind of self-regulating. A pony that comes across a friendly but hungry changeling might feel more sympathetic to them, which gives that changeling more food, while if a changeling draws too much and starts wearing out the pony they'll know what's going on and probably be displeased with the changeling for overfeeding, which also cuts off the emotions. I kind of like how that works out!"

As weird as it is, that actually makes some sort of sense, Nictis thought, before another question came to mind. "Who's Twilight?" And why does that name sound familiar?

"Oh, one of my friends," Sky said with a shrug. "She's pretty smart."

Friends with a pony. With multiple ponies, even. "...How many friends do you have?"

Sky paused, looking thoughtful for a moment. "Good friends, or more casual acquaintances?"

"Good friends."

Sky thought a moment longer before shrugging. "Near a dozen."

Nictis gaped and sputtered for a moment. "A... a dozen? But, that... what?" He shook his head. "You mean despite everything that happened, you managed to get a dozen ponies to like you?"

"Well... near a dozen that I'd count as good friends. Yes."

"And they... actually trust you? Even though you were a part of the invasion?"

Sky nodded. "Like I said, if you show them trust, they'll return the favor."

"Enough that you've made a sizable number of friends and been entrusted with a position in the government?"

Sky snickered at that. "What, the whole 'Counselor on Changeling Affairs' thing? Sure, but it's just a fancy title, for the most part. I mean, I'm supposed to be an advisor to the Princesses on matters involving changelings, but there are--were no other known changelings living in Equestria, and we haven't had any contact with the hive. Mostly I just visit Canterlot once a month or so, or talk to ponies to give the occasional 'changeling' perspective on things. Maybe if more changelings show up, I'll finally be able to do something deserving of the title. With you showing up, I kind of feel like there might actually be some hope for that."

Nictis sat silently, considering that. The more cynical part of him thought such a title and position would be a great way to keep track of someone the Princesses distrusted, but he dismissed it. There were plenty of other ways to accomplish that same goal. Instead, he thought of the idea of changelings living openly among ponies, about how many changelings could be fed off such a population if what Sky was saying was true. But... "I wouldn't expect too much of that," Nictis said, sadly. "Most changelings never leave the hive. They'd never even know about... this. Even if they did, they'd never believe it." He sighed. "I've lived with ponies for years, even gave up on ever returning to the hive, but I still have a hard time believing it."

"You gave up on returning to the hive?"

Nictis hesitated. I could go back, he thought. The hive isn't in danger. Equestria isn't going to wipe it out. I could go back...

The thought that would have brought a surge of hope and excitement before now simply... was. It had lost its magic. It was just another place, its idealized fantasy shattered. He looked around the shop at the happy ponies talking and eating and shopping as if there was nothing odd about a pair of changelings there among them. A few noticed his gaze crossing them; some simply looked away or ignored him, but a few smiled or nodded to him. The reflexive feeling of wrongness still crept up, but it had lost its bite. It was not Equestria that was wrong.

"...I found something better," Nictis said, his voice weak.

More reassuring sympathy flowed from Sky. "What was that?"

"It's... kind of a long story."

"Well, we've got a while until the party," Sky replied. "And if you're planning to live here, I'd love to learn more about you."

Nictis looked back at the smiling changeling, who was doing his best to help him, to make him feel welcome there. Yet at the same time, Sky hadn't told him anything about ponies that he didn't already know. He had lived among them for years, observing their ways, often with scorn and cynicism. For all his observations, he'd always held onto the same notions, ones that had been drilled into his head throughout his upbringing. He had clung to those teachings, even in the face of everything he saw. Only now, sitting there with another changeling, both of them undisguised among ponies who seemed perfectly content with them being there, did he see enough to question it.

"...I guess I should start when I was still a nymph, nine years ago," he said, voice low and quiet, but steady. "When I first left the hive on a training mission..."

Epilogue

Epilogue

The past week was easily one of the strangest and most stressful times of Nictis's life. His stay in Ponyville had a rocky start, and yet, it had been both enlightening and encouraging. The party had been the hardest by far. Things had been awkward enough when Golden Harvest--the mare that had greeted him in the street--had mentioned being in Canterlot during the attack. It got worse when he discovered that the purple unicorn he was speaking with, the Twilight Sparkle whose name had seemed so familiar, was not just some sort of hero, nor just the student of Celestia whom he'd heard of a couple times before, the same one who had somehow defeated both Nightmare Moon and Discord and saved the world multiple times over, but also one of the three ponies most directly responsible for repelling the changeling invasion. The final straw had been a very friendly green unicorn by the name of Lyra, who had casually and cheerfully mentioned not remembering much of the invasion due to being mind-controlled by Chrysalis at the time.

She then joined Sky in trying to coax Nictis back out of the closet he had shut himself in, while he lay curled up inside in the midst of a full-blown panic attack.

Yet the same experience that had initially sent him into a panic eventually helped him find peace with the situation. Sky and Lyra both hugged him after he came back out. Lyra spent most of the party trying to help him feel more comfortable, and most of the ponies seemed very sympathetic to his fear. Eventually, he had managed to calm down, to force the discomfort and panic into the background and make an attempt to socialize. Feeling the happiness that rose in several ponies' emotions just at seeing him begin to enjoy himself was a truly bizarre experience, and yet, so wonderful.

He still didn't leave Sky's house very often, but he managed it on occasion. It wasn't that he was fearful of what would happen, not any more, but he still felt rather uncomfortable on his own. For the first few days, he wouldn't even dare to go outside without Sky alongside him.

And then more changelings came.

Their arrival had changed things for Nictis in the strangest way. The pair of drones were nothing special. They were not Infiltrators. They were not even soldiers. Skiris and Trip were simply a couple of tunnel-workers who had been dragged along into the invasion. Neither of them had any idea what was really going on, simply following along with their orders as they always had. The entire hive had been mobilized, and the two had stuck together throughout the endeavor. In the chaos of the aftermath, they ended up stranded and injured inside Equestria. Remarkably, they had remained hidden for months on their own through a mixture of improvisation and paranoia. Even on the verge of starvation, they had refused to approach Sky for fear of it being some elaborate trap. Only when Nictis had entered the scene had they finally decided to take the risk.

It had been almost heartbreaking when he had seen them drop their disguise; a pair of haggard and timid changelings, near starvation, and yet defiantly protective of each other. It was a turning point, in so many ways. No longer was he the scared young changeling, terrified in the face of something new. Instead, he was the one offering them comfort and encouragement. He had a purpose again. The ponies had been very friendly and welcoming, but it took the arrival of those two changelings for him to feel that he had a place there.

Now Sky's home felt far more alive. All four changelings were living there currently, and the place was no longer so empty. It was like their own little hive in miniature. A place where they could relax and let the standards of pony society slip just a bit.

Perhaps I've found my own way, after all. The thought brought a small smile to his face, a hoof rising to hold the simple compass on its golden chain as he looked down at it. It was a habit he had reluctantly copied from Sky. The other changeling wore his silver torc with its cloud-shaped sapphire as a way of identifying himself to ponies who were unfamiliar with distinguishing one changeling from another. Nictis disliked that he should have to do such a thing rather than ponies simply learning how changelings simply didn't look as identical as they assumed, but it made interactions easier. Besides, that compass was the first tangible thing he had of any personal significance, and just about the only constant to exist throughout his time in Equestria. If he had to have a symbol to represent himself, he couldn't think of any better.

A faint, buzzing snore brought his attention away from his symbol. He let it hang against his chest as he looked over to where Skiris and Trip were napping, huddled up together on the floor beside the couch he sat on. A few visitors had been a little uncomfortable when they found the two sleeping on the floor, but Nictis found it somewhat nostalgic. After all, even the carpeted floor was far more comfortable than anything they would have gotten in the hive. Their natural habit of sleeping wherever seemed convenient and out of the way also meant he had occasionally found himself sharing the couch he had claimed as his sleeping place, but the presence of other changelings all huddled together in sleep was surprisingly comforting. It brought back all the familiar memories of sleeping in the crowded chambers of the hive, yet in far more comfort. It was nice seeing changelings just... being changelings.

Their arrival had also brought new hope to Sky, and in turn, to Nictis. They weren't the only changelings in Equestria. How many more might be hiding in Equestria, who might welcome a better way to live? How many drones like Skiris and Trip were still in the hive, unaware that something better could exist for them out there? Thoughts that had once been vile and traitorous now shone with the hope of something better, something that they were now certain could exist. They could help every changeling.

But that was all for later, vague and long-term plans that might take years of effort. There would be much work ahead, Nictis was sure, but he found himself welcoming the prospect. For the first time in months, the future was beginning to brighten, and he had a purpose in it. He was well fed, on emotions not stolen, but freely given. There were a few ponies he could even count as casual friends, despite his timid outings. Almost every part of a good life was sliding into place.

Almost. One part remained, and it was the reason he was sitting there, hovering over a single sheet of paper. It was blank, and had remained blank for almost an hour as he tried to think of what to write. His newfound and faint optimism wavered, but as he glanced back to the two peacefully sleeping changelings nearby, it held.

Everything there was supposed to be impossible. It had been drilled into his head his whole life. It was accepted as a simple fact of life for changelings. Yet there he was--there they were--having done the impossible.

His magic lifted the quill as determination filled him. What would follow would surely be difficult, but he had already managed what was supposed to be impossible. He didn't know exactly what he could do, or how it would all end.

As he levitated the quill over to the unwritten letter, the only thing he knew for certain was how it would begin.

Dear Spark...

An Old Life

Nictis was slowly getting used to interacting with ponies without the comforting safety of a disguise. Every friendly pony he interacted with was a tiny bit less tension on his mind. Sky's support, and that of his friends, slowly encouraged him. They assured him that everything would be just fine, even as instinct and habit cried out against it. The newly arrived changelings even gave him something to focus himself on, a way to distract himself from his own unease by doing something good, something worthwhile.

None of this comforted him as he found himself alone, trapped, face-to-face with the terrifying might of Celestia. She was all politeness and smiles, and even the emotions radiating from her were laden with compassion, yet he regarded the whole thing as a trap, just waiting to spring upon him. This was a being that received the love of an entire kingdom, and there he was, having wronged so many of her little ponies. His only hope was that she felt merciful.

"Please, you can relax," Celestia said in soft and gentle tones. "I don't intend you any harm. Have a seat."

He immediately dropped to his haunches on the bare wood, belatedly noting the pair of large cushions that had been set in the library room. Celestia paused a moment to regard him before an amused smirk crossed her lips--Nictis's heart-rate soared even higher--and gracefully laid herself upon one of the cushions.

"I see I should deal with a certain issue immediately," Celestia said, as if to herself. "I have announced amnesty for any changelings who would come forward openly, forgiving any but the most reprehensible and violent of crimes. Officially, that means you are not going to be charged for any threats, or fraud, or theft." The smirk returned. "Although I would be pleased if you made some attempt at reparations."

"O-of course," Nictis replied, his voice feeling quite small and strained.

"In addition, the Guard contacted Night Watch to inform him that they may have a suspect in his incident, but fortunately, he seems quite the forgiving sort. He decided to not press charges." When Nictis merely looked on with confusion, Celestia's smile grew a bit. "He had concluded that his assailant must have reconsidered their life of crime when the spree of robberies immediately ended, and that they must have felt rather bad about what they did if they dragged him so far to get help."

If chitin were capable of blanching in shock, Nictis was certain he would be ghost-white. His eyes went wide, ears pinning back. A tiny voice in the back of his head tried to point out that he'd been forgiven, but it was drowned under the panicked knowledge that Celestia, the might of Equestria, knew he had nearly caved in the skull of one of her ponies.

Her smile vanished, and his heart lurched with the change in expression. The compassion he felt from her, still strong, did nothing to relieve his fear. "I do not approve of what you did," she said, "But after hearing of your account, I can at least understand why you felt such things were necessary. I hope you recognize now that there are better ways, and that you will not resort to such actions again?"

Nictis's mouth felt too dry to talk. He merely nodded instead.

The silence lingered for several moments as Celestia watched him. Every moment felt like an eternity to Nictis, every fear rising up one after another, assailing his nerves.

Finally, Celestia spoke again. "I remember you, you know."

Nictis blinked, almost recoiling. She continued before he could find his voice again. "Four and a half years ago, in Hoofington. I recognized Meadow Song's appearance after Sky contacted me. You might have a very different appearance now, but I remember that look of fear all too well. Please, Nictis, be at ease. You have nothing to fear from me."

Hesitantly, Nictis nodded. He didn't entirely believe her, naturally, even if she seemed to mean the best, but he was not about to contradict her.

"That day stuck in my memory," Celestia said, looking off in thought. "I've often seen ponies who are uneasy in my presence, worried about displeasing me or some such silliness, as if I'd punish them for such a thing. Still, I rarely see anypony so terrified. To see such a thing on that day was... unpleasant. I don't want any of my subjects to feel as if they should fear me."

Nictis nodded again, this time managing to find his voice. "I'll try."

Celestia allowed a faint, sad smile, that lingered for only a moment. Then she asked, "What do you plan to do now?"

When he looked to her in surprised confusion, she clarified. "You're free to follow whatever course you like. It seems like you're settling into Ponyville quite well, if perhaps a little slowly. At the same time, I understand from the account of your time in Equestria that you feel a strong devotion to the hive. So I'm curious, what do you plan to do now?"

His reply came quickly, but quietly. "I won't take any action against Equestria."

"That's not quite what I meant," Celestia said, a light-hearted tone to her voice. "Although I am certainly glad to hear it."

He hesitated, but forced himself to continue. "I won't take any action against the hive, either."

Celestia merely nodded.

"I... I can't betray them. Even after everything, they're still..."

"I understand," Celestia said. "And I won't ask you to do anything you are uncomfortable with. In fact, I hope any further interactions with the hive will be purely peaceful. Even if you simply live peacefully here in Ponyville, I think you will be helping that goal. I certainly hope you will never have to choose between one or the other."

"Thank you," Nictis murmured after a brief pause.

"Of course," Celestia said, and smiled warmly. "All who live in Equestria are my subjects, and I will do my best by them, whether pony or not."

Nictis had to force the next few words out. "What of the changelings in the hive?"

Despite his fears, Celestia's smile grew in warmth. "They are not my subjects, but I hope the time will come when Equestria and your hive can embrace each other in friendship."

Concerns flew through Nictis's mind; the old Infiltrator thinking practically salivating at the opportunities such a situation would present. Such a thought prompted a sharp stab of guilt, and he quickly banished the thought. "I'd like that," he said, but sadly added, "But I don't think the other changelings will. We've been taught for so long that ponies are just... prey. Enemies."

"Then there is one thing I would ask of you," Celestia said, a smirk teasing at her features. "And that would be to carry on, as you have these past days. Aid your fellow changelings here. Live on, happy and free. Let your example serve as a beacon to the rest of your hive, to show them the strength and magic of friendship. Show them that we do not need to be enemies."

Instinct insisted on crying out about threats and traps, despite all the evidence to the contrary from the past days. The Princess's compassion teased at his senses, and half from impulse, half from fear, he allowed himself to draw in a tiny bit of the offered energies. He held the little wisp of energy in his senses, as if to reassure himself that it was, in fact, real. His fear finally faded when Celestia did not react. No smiting came, no anger. If anything, he could almost swear the emotion grew by a minuscule amount.

Finally, hesitantly, Nictis allowed a small smile. "I'll try my best."

Author's Note

Without a Hive and Fragments continue in: A New Way