Duellum Telum

Telling History: Part II

“W-what happened t-then?” Fluttershy asked in a soft, trembling voice.

“I did the smart thing and skipped town.” Moonfire glanced at the confusion on the mare’s face.

“I hopped on the train and left,” he explained.

“While I was on the train I found that, if I concentrated, I could change anything about myself. My gender, my appearance, my voice... it was a little disconcerting at first. But, I found that I could use it to regain my previous form, my old life. But that would take time. I would have to hide, and learn how to control my powers.

“It took four days for me to reach Dodge City and it was Saturday when I left Vanhoover. I was starving when I got off the train so the first thing I did was... ‘acquire’ some food from the local cherry farm. After that, I found a few strong boxes and a relatively sturdy blanket in an alley and called it home,” Moonfire sniffled. “I didn’t even last a week. By the time another Saturday rolled around, I was a sitting duck. A hungry, weak, sitting duck. Not literally, but you get the idea.”

=======================

The colt lay shivering under the covers, stomach growling in protest. He couldn’t feel his toes, and he was too hungry to realise that he should be more worried about the hooves that were where he thought his toes were. The phantom sensations of his wings vaguely reminded him of his predicament, but for some reason none of the pain made him change to his normal form. He just lay there, alone and in pain.

He licked his lips and tasted blood, like they were chapped. It wasn’t winter, he was getting plenty of vitamins from the fruit he’d eaten, but still he could feel the emptiness in his stomach demanding sustenance. He tried rubbing his hooves together to test, but the things were softening up somehow. His skin felt dry and tight all over, and some vague memory of a condition called ‘scurvy’ came to mind. It didn’t make any sense, though: he was eating healthily, all things considered.

What’s wrong with me? I shouldn’t be this hungry. I just ate six hours ago...

With a sigh and a groan from his belly, he let his eyes drift shut.

“B-Brave Gambit? I-is that you?”

He looked up and saw an Earth pony mare with a moss brown coat and a grass green mane with brown highlights. She had a bottle with red liquid and white fumes coming out of it for a cutie mark.

The last thing he noticed was her eyes. They were a light shade of magenta and full of concern and compassion, much like his own mother’s.

“M-mom?” He managed to say before his vision was overcome by the black of unconsciousness.

Moonfire blinked as he noticed the light filtering through his heavy eyelids. His stomach wasn’t growling so unpleasantly any more, but he was feeling a bit hungry. He was lying on something softer than he remembered, though, and in a warmer place. He licked his lips, and found the chapping had subsided.

“Welcome back, honey,” a friendly voice said.

Moonfire looked to his left and saw the same mare from before.

Who is this mare and why am I not hungry any more? He thought.

The mare’s expression grew more concerned at Moonfire’s confused countenance. "You don’t recognise me, do you?”

Slowly, reluctantly, the boy shook his head.

“I’m Deciduous Thyme, and you’re Brave Gambit. Unless you somehow look an awful lot like him. That is you, isn’t it, Gambit?”

Moonfire’s throat suddenly bunched up. Some vague instinct caught hold of his first response and warped it to a lie.

“I-I’m not sure. I don’t think I remember everything all that well. Something happened, but... you’re my mom, right?”

He was screaming inside to stop himself, but to no avail. He wanted to lie, he needed to. Every fiber of his body demanded he keep up this charade to gorge on the feast that so readily presented itself. It was only then that he realised he could feel the mare’s caring. That was what filled the emptiness in his stomach.

He needed to be loved.

This mare needed her son.

This was the first lucky break he’d had in two weeks.

Her face immediately lit up at his words, “I knew it was you. You had me worried sick, you know. Do you remember anything about what happened at all?”

Moonfire glanced around the room and saw several pictures hanging on the walls. The subject of each was almost his twin in appearance.

Is that Brave Gambit? Moonfire thought. Only his mane style is different from mine... but... what happened to him..? Maybe I could use this to my advantage. Pretend to be him. It would be better than just sleeping in a box with only a blanket. But what about Brave himself? What if he comes back? I could just slip away if he does. Leave no one the wiser. Besides, it’s not like I would’ve lasted if she hadn’t found me.

He sat up in the bed and said, “No. I-I don’t remember....”

“That’s probably best. You ran away after we err... had some words. We both said things we regret. But you’re back, and you’re safe, thank Celestia. We can worry about the rest later.”

Ran away? Huh, seems like I won’t see him any time soon, Moon- he should probably get in the habit of calling himself Brave Gambit- thought. I wonder what was said.

“I'm sorry for what I said. W-whatever it was.”

The mare shook her head and smiled, suppressing a tear.

“It’s okay, Gambit. I’ve already called the doctor, he’ll be over in a few hours to check your injuries. I guess that leg must be feeling pretty sore now, huh?”

A bead of cold sweat ran down the imposter’s neck.

“Just a little,” he lied, before realising something was shifting in his right hind leg. A tiny shift of bone and sinew formed some sort of internal scar that gave off a dull ache.

Am I... adapting to this mare? That’s convenient and somewhat disconcerting.

The mare put a steaming bowl of tomato soup in front of him. She leaned in to pat him on the head. It was only then Moonfire -- Gambit, Brave Gambit -- realised he couldn’t quite make out how long he’d been out cold.

“Um... H-how long was I asleep?” Gambit asked, levitating the spoon to his mouth.

“Long enough to get hungry again, I’ll bet,” Thyme replied with a wink.

The spoon stopped right outside his mouth as the sound of a closing door and a half-shout of “honey, I’m home” reached him.

He glanced at the mare and saw that she hadn’t heard. I think it would be best if I told her about that.

He let the spoon drop a little and said, “I think I heard somepony come in.”

“Hmm?” Thyme turned her head as the stallion walked in.

“Lofty! Look who came back!”

“Gambit? W-where have you been? Have you told the police he’s been found yet?”

Suddenly another bead of sweat rolled over Moonfire’s back.

“Not yet, but the doctor will be here soon. We can worry about the legal stuff when he’s done,” the mare replied before walking over to him. “He um... he doesn’t remember.”

Lofty glared at the boy.

“Are you sure it’s him, then?”

Well, this is it then. I’m caught.

“I’m sure. He called me ‘mom’ when I found him, and he was all alone. It can’t be anypony else, can it? I know his mane looks a little different, but... surely you recognise your own son?” Thyme insisted.

The stallion walked closer to Gambit, looking him over as the boy returned the gesture. Lofty was a salmon pink unicorn stallion with a blue mane and tail that looked like leaves clumped together. His cutie mark was a closed book on a pedestal. The changeling winced at the look, his heart skipping a beat.

“H-hi.”

“Do you know who I am?”

“Um, dad?”

“I’m Lofty Libram,” he replied. “As for me being your dad, well...” he calmly said as he stroked the boy’s messy mane back a little, “you definitely feel like my son. You’ve got his smell. But I guess we’ll just have to make do with who you think you are until your memory returns, huh?”

The doctor’s visit went as well as a colt with a limp could hope. He was told to stay off of his hoof until it healed and that he shouldn’t be doing any extended running or exercising.

The next few days saw his ‘friends’ visit and they gave him what was taught in class and stayed for a few hours playing games of all kinds.

***

Gambit had just returned from getting chocolate milkshakes with his ‘friends’ a month after he had arrived and saw that the door was ajar. As he approached the door he noticed that it wasn’t just open, it was almost torn off its hinges.

The sound of shattering glass reached his ears and his eyes widened before he darted inside.

Another sound, this time a muffled scream, directed him to the kitchen.

What’s going on? he thought as he stepped around a piece of paper.

He peered into the kitchen.

Blood. Blood was on the cabinets, smeared onto the floor.

What..?

His eyes widened as he saw his dad dead in front of the stove and he coughed as he smelled an acrid, malodorous stench.

He heard a *schlick* and turned to see a black pony standing over his dying mother.

The stream of tears flowing down his muzzle dampened his coat, he gave a sob and breathed in more of the pungent odor, almost being able to taste it.

The dying mare locked eyes with Gambit and, with her final breath, said, "B-brave, r-run... run..."

His eyes drifted up to the other mare who was in the middle of sheathing a knife.

They stood there, not moving, staring at each other while the wind flowed through the room, and the broken door creaked with every push of the wind.

Gambit took a step back and shook his head in disbelief.

“And who are you, little one?” the mare asked around her blade.

The disguised changeling took another step back as he felt fear start to cloud his mind. He knew that voice, there was no mistaking it. The cold, always disapproving tone, belonged to... “A-aunt Cal?”

There was a soft *click* as the knife was fully sheathed.

Cal smirked.

“You know, I heard a funny story the other day, stop me if you’ve heard it before. Once upon a time, there was a little boy who wanted nothing more than to join the Royal Guard. He got signed up for junior training camp, looked forward to it with all his heart. But one day, he almost gets run over by a runaway cart and this caring individual shoved him out of the way just in time,” she explained, nudging the bleeding body of his adoptive mother.

“The boy was devastated, for you see: his mother had given just a tad too hard a push, and he landed in a market stall where he was immediately buried under clocks. Insurance paid for most of the damage, of course, but one thing couldn’t be fixed: his leg. A grandfather clock had toppled in the confusion and smashed the boy’s flank like china. No training camp for him. So, of course he was upset, claimed his mother had intended to push him into the clocks. They had a right row and he ran away.”

Gambit’s eye twitched.

“But lo and behold, just a few weeks later his parents find a foal on the street who looks just like him, acts just like him yet doesn’t remember anything. Even has the bone callus on the exact same spot their son did. But here’s where the story takes a turn for the mysterious: a boy matching the same description turned up to two parents who’d recently lost their son to a changeling. And turns out the bone callus isn’t even that hard to treat: he’d found a proper doctor for it in two days if he’d run the other way.”

The boy gulped.

“Brave Gambit turned up at your old haunt. You’re not him. And if I had to wager a guess, you’re the one that got to my employer’s son just a few days earlier. His friends were pretty upset, you know. It’s a good thing Gambit looks so much like him, or we’d have a hard time explaining that away.”

“Y-you don’t understand. I am their son,” Duellum stammered.

“Even better. Then you know your dad won’t go back on his word. It’s a shame, really: you always struck me a nice kid. Honest, hard-working, eager to please. Nothing like your father,” she noted with a chuckle.

The disguised changeling was trembling.

“So you’re an assassin?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re here to assassinate me?”

“What? No, no, no, boy. You’ve got that all wrong. Assassinations are for important ponies, and everyone knows it’s a hired hit when they see it. You’re just going to be murdered, and no one will know I did it, let alone got paid for it. Makes customer service a lot easier, come to think of it.”

~o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o~

“W-what happened then?” Fluttershy asked with a quiver in her voice.

“I caught her off guard, unbalanced her. I did what I could to keep her there, then I ran. I think I hit the stove on the way out, ‘coz next thing I know the place is burning down. With Caligantis and my- with Gambit’s parents inside.”

“So you’ve been running ever since? Can’t you talk to the guards?”

“It hasn’t been just running,” he sighed. “But yes.”

“A-and the guards?”

Moonfire closed his eyes and shook his head. “No, my father has most of the higher-ups on payroll.”

“He’s not paying Princess Celestia, is he?”

The colt chuckled, “No, he isn’t, as far as I know anyways. But I wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case.”

“You know we can get word sent to her to get you protection, right?”

“Yes, but... I have trust issues.”

Fluttershy stroked his back with a wing.

“I guess you would. But at least you know it can be done. We can help you if you feel you’re ready to be helped. And if things do get out of control, we will help you anyway.”

He sighed, “But there’s no way of getting something to the princess without... Dad finding out about it and learning where I am. Moreover, he had at least twenty palace guards last time I tried to get in. Who knows how many are under his influence now?”

“Alright, then. We can think about that later. At least you’re safe now. You’ll stay here until your wing has healed up, and you can stay past that if you want. We can work something out.”

“No, I’ll leave once the ‘nip wears off,” he looked at Fluttershy. “I have a safe place that is rarely visited by other ponies.”

“Um, I don’t think so. You really cannot be alone while that wing is healing. You can stay here, I’ll get you some nice, warm blankets. Oh, and Angel Bunny can keep watch and fetch you some chamomile tea if you get anxious in the night.”

“You don’t need to get me a blanket, it’s plenty warm in here.”

“Oh, I meant for the night, of course. You’re going to need to keep that wing nice and toasty if you want to get a good night’s sleep.”

Moonfire shook his head, “I don’t think you understood me; I don’t need a blanket because I prefer the cold.” He chuckled and shook his head. “Captain Squall always called me a windigo since I always went into the rigging without a single stitch of clothing.”

”Sweetie, Squall calls ponies a lot of things. He used to call me a gorgon,” she noted with a shiver.

“I bet you never knew that he knew about me, all of me. Knew that I had a disguise on as soon as he saw me.” Of course I showed him as soon as I came on his ship... But she doesn't need to know that.

“Yes, he does that sometimes. He made Nightmare Night a lot less scary for me,” she fondly recalled.

“Seriously? Are we talking about the same stallion? Because the one I remember could make even the fiercest storm look like a calm spring shower.”

“Oh, yes. He was really nice to have around when the weather ponies needed to water everything. I was never scared of storms... until he moved out of the house,” the mare recalled, grimacing a little.

“Anyways, I don’t need a blanket, only a pillow.”

“If you say so. As long as you stay indoors, whatever you want to do is fine,” Fluttershy said as she headed to the door.

Moonfire shook his head and stood up, “No, not fine. If I’m going to stay here, I’m going to help you.”

Fluttershy backed up a little and got a grave look in her eye.

“Sweetie, please stay down? You need to rest.”

“No can do, I’m not going to just sit around on my flank while you take care of me.”

The changeling hopped down from the couch and walked up to the mare, “You might be kind and the captain’s half sister, but I will not laze about and do nothing.”

“Oh, that’s alright. You can go out and help if you really want to. When your wing is better.”

“No, I won’t wait. There is nothing that will stop me from helping you.”

“Pretty please?” she begged, leaning in close to the changeling’s face.

“No,” Moonfire deadpanned.

Fluttershy took a deep breath, then locked eyes with the boy. Her stare intensified, starting to push down on her target.

Why’s she just staring at me? And why can’t I look away? ... Huh, look at that, there are some green flecks in her eyes... Well, this is getting very awkward. Okay, this is uncomfortable... She’s just standing there, staring... Mayb- No! Oh sweet Celestia no! Not that, anything but that!

“Fine, I’ll stay inside,” the colt said, keeping his expression neutral.

“There’s a good boy. Now, you just sit tight while I go check on Scootaloo. She went a little faint when I lit that nip.”

With that the mare turned and walked out the door.

Moonfire shuddered after he heard the door close.

“That was worse than the captain’s glare...”