Author's Note

Sorry for disappearing for 3 months.

Encounter 2

“You’re not fooling anyone, pal,” Luster said. “I know what you are.”

They were a changeling. Luster had no doubt. Being lured into an alley was as generic as setups go. And unless they were just lonely, they were a drone of Chrysalis: an unreformed changeling. She had a run-in with a pair of changelings before.

This drone must’ve foalnapped the real Fry whilst Luster’s eyes were on her arcade and cocooned his body in a sedative mucus: not fully, not in an oblong pod, but rather mummified in a few layers. Pedantry was unnecessary. Fry probably couldn’t climb a playground slide, Luster thought, let alone overcome whatever magic changelings used to keep their victims asleep.

The clouds were out tonight, portending a snowstorm. The alley’s tight walls funneled a breeze. The tips of Luster’s jacket waved like a cape. She was deep into the alley. The walls were five-stories high without windows. In front and behind her lay large bins, each one blocking a third of the alley’s width.

It’ll be difficult for anycreature to see or hear her… if she were a mute earth pony. That wasn’t Luster. She knew over twenty spells and lived under Cozy Glow’s wing for Celestia’s sake! She could drown this whole alley in a tsunami of fire. Sure, changelings could resist high temperatures for a short while, which was why she also knew a crystal synthesis spell and could teleport as naturally as a mother could fly. This scenario sat in the back of her mind when she learnt those spells from Hope, who extorted a handsome amount from Cozy.

Luster’s ears couldn’t catch any carriages clopping through the road behind her. This wasn’t a very busy street, at least not at this hour. But Canterlot had a freer sky than more modern cloud cities. That was one of the earliest treaties signed during her construction, and as a prerequisite to early Equestria’s pegasus support. A bright spell would surely attract a pair of nosy eyes or guards, especially if it’s followed by a filly’s scream.

Luster wouldn’t have to do much else. Cozy and her friends and their lackeys could mock her all they wanted, Twilight wasn’t stupid. As a ruler, she knew how important defending Equestria’s capital was. Her armies are not underfunded. The guards were decent at their jobs, as Cozy should know. Most problems are resolved before an informant can even shove themselves past Twilight’s queue. She finds out about most issues from her morning curated paper. Sure, a lot supervillains could knock down an elite battalion like bowling pins, but there weren’t many supervillains left: only Cozy and Chrysalis, and Cozy was one of those exceptions. It’d be surprising to Luster if she could down one guard in a ring. Yet, Canterlot still considered her very dangerous, in other ways. And this changeling had ties to both. That wouldn’t be something they’d leave any Princess to read about tomorrow morning.

“Try anything funny and you’ll be dragged across Twilight’s carpet,” Luster said at a normal volume, yet sternly. “And in case you forgot, I’m Luster Dawn. I know your mom, and you should know mine. She’s a pegasus, wears a bow, and, yeah, she’s short, but so is her fuse. She’ll crush you like a bug if you take even one step closer. Well, I mean, unless it’s to undo my friend from your snot.” Luster stepped aside but kept her serious face.

She hoped the impostor would now catch their slip up and rush to free Fry from his gross prison—then bow their head relentlessly, genuflecting, begging, “I-I-I-I didn’t know you were… the Luster Dawn, magical prodigy, tamer of Cozy Glow. Oh, please don’t tell! Here, take my wallet!” But no.

Instead, they slapped their left temple in overdone shock. “Oh my gosh, Luster Dawn? I’ve indubitably run amok this time! Apologies, apologies! I’m so sorry,” they said, still in Fry’s body, and now without even using a fake voice.

Their real voice was nasally and high. Holding a hoof to their forehead and another to their heart, fake Fry stood on their hind legs, ostensibly stricken by how careless they had been. They swung themselves around, twirling, and landed on all fours, tail facing Luster. Then they walked away.

“...Hey! What about my friend?” Luster asked.

They kept walking for a few more second before slowing to a stop, tail going from bobbing to a pause. Then, the changeling twisted their neck owl-like in a one-eighty. Luster’s own neck muscles winced. A pair of teal eyes without whites or irises, reflecting moonlight like a hexagonal mosaic, glared at her. “Your friend?”

The filly took a few steps back out of instinct and adopted a defensive stance resembling a bull: eyes up, horn faced straight ahead, one posterior leg straightened back. At the slightest twitch, she’ll be able to charge. There were many spells she could use then: a freezing spell, a stun spell, a slice; or she could teleport away, and report this incident to the police. They’ll find this challenging eventually.

Her horn glowed dimly, casting a flare on the impostor’s lenses. Her breathing drowned out the city’s ambiance. Her lungs pressed against her chest.

Given their lack of pupils, Luster wasn’t sure what they were looking at: back at her or at something else. She was also lousy at reading changeling facial expressions. The darkness didn’t help. A minute passed. Nothing happened. Why wasn’t the changeling reacting?

Luster reasoned, Bugs usually stand still. But at this point, a sudden aneurysm seemed moderately plausible.

She licked her lips. “...Are—”

The drone dashed to their side.

The sound of toppled trash cans rattled the alley. Luster pinched together a spotlight spell and ran it across the wall’s base. She thought maybe the drone was trying to escape. Her light caught the orange tail of their Fry disguise, but Luster’s brain took too long to process the image.

She pulled her head upwards, before finally changing her horn’s settings from casting a spotlight spell to floodlight. Now, instead of a narrow revealing beam, her horn was glowing broadly like a bulb.

Luster’s pupils darted left and right and up and down, bouncing between drains to windows, across the back and front exits of the alleyway. Where was the changeling? She crept backwards to stand equally between both walls. The drone’s recent movements had been sudden, but Luster had seen the same behavior in kitchen bugs before.

Thirty seconds passed. “Stay calm,” Luster muttered to herself. “Everything’s over… Maybe I should go free Fry my—”

Something to her left coughed.

Luster spun around and shot a beam of cold molten crystal—but only caught a bare painted wall. The energy previous maintaining her horn’s glow had been wasted crafting that spell. Now the alley was dark.

Her horn made zapping noises as she hastened to rekindle her light, but fear slugged her speed—Come on, come on, come on!

The drone’s dim shadow zipped across Luster as it leaped from the wall to behind her back.

She finally got her horn pointed where it should, glowing with a spell to back her up, but too late. The drone snorted and sneezed a web of mucus all over the filly’s face, the mask rapidly cooled to gain a toughness like rubber.

As Luster tried using her telekinesis to free herself, she felt another ball of smile jam her horn. She stumbled and after straining her magical muscles managed to broaden a space between two outlining tendrils for her left eye to peek through.

She saw the changeling: still not in their true form, but not exactly in Fry’s. They had seemingly molted out of the colt’s skin and now wore his head as a mask: legs, stomach, and tail still dangling. The body of whatever form the changeling had morphed into hovered above Luster without any flutter. And it moved closer with a robotic flow.

Luster regressed back to her most base reflexes. She intended to shoot a stream of fire all over the pesky bug without holding back; and since changeling body plates were fire-resistant, she channeled a lot of magic for this to work.

The impostor flinched upon hearing Luster’s normal horn whine, a promise of devastation corroborated by a vengeful filly grin. Her horn glowed red down the base—but not from any illumination spell: from overheating. Not normal.

Overheating your horn was a mistake made by novice Pyromancers. Luster was a self-ascribed expert. Once her forehead, less numb than her horn, felt a drop of boiling mucus leak down like candle wax, Luster stopped trying to push out her flamethrower.

She placed a hoof to head, and dread consumed her. The ooze had been cooked, from a viscous smile to an opaque crust, even tougher than before, surfaced by craters of popped bubbles. At the tip of her horn, where magic converges for more precise spells, lay a burnt mark: crisp, as hard as bark, emitting an incense of cooked puke.

“What a shame, what a shame,” taunted the impostor.

Luster looked up, ready to fight this fiend hoof-to-hoof, but her ears dropped as six reflective teal eyes stared back: two larger ones surrounded by four regularly large. And a sharp, spindly leg swiped Luster’s horn upwards. The filly fell to her tail. She wondered if the changeling had infected her with a paralyzing agent, because it was so hard to move, or was it just her?

“What’s the matter, Lustie?” the giant-spider changeling said. “I thought you were a fighter? You escaped Kludgetown, after all, and survived Cozy Glow. Did all that bravery dry up, or were you just lousy at assessing your circumstances when you were younger? Stupidity, not bravery, she had mistaken?”

“...What do you want?” Luster asked. Her lips were glued together, so it came out as a mumble of throat noises. But the changeling understood her perfectly.

“I won’t scare you by saying everything I want, Luster Dawn,” they said. “But in regards to you specifically, I’m simply here to deliver a message. I mean—” One of their needle legs tapped Luster’s muzzle. “If I wanted Love, I would’ve gone after happier ponies. Perhaps even your coltfriend.”

Luster glared at the shape-shifter, who shifted her focus back on her, losing focus their overconfidence.

“Maybe not now,” the spider drone continued. “I’ll wait for his father’s friends to finish their brief probe. Though then I really should deal with those—” Luster took a chance as they were talking to run between their legs.

Sensing a source of love scurrying loose, without twisting their neck, one of their spider legs stabbed the ground an inch beyond Luster as she was inching away. “Ooo, there’s that bravery~”

“...Cozy is going to murder you,” Luster mumbled.

“Oh, will she? Let’s see, I’m a top-of-my-class shapeshifter who can look like anything—” They turned into a visual copy of Luster. “I can sound like anything,” they said in a copy of Luster’s voice. “Though it’s a useless skill if ponies still follow you even when you’re completely off. Oh, and of course, why would Cozy murder me, when she was the one who sent me on this mission in the first place?”

Luster skipped a breath. “She didn’t.”

Still in the filly body, the changeling responded, “Oh, she didn’t, didn’t she? So you’re accusing me of being a rogue drone? Hmm, that’s an accusation. Has it ever occurred to you that I’ve known Cozy for far longer than you have? I’ve known her since she was a young filly and I was a larvae.” They turned into a filly version of Cozy and a larvae version of themselves; and their larvae version was an unreformed, albeit slightly cute, changeling with big eyes, stubby legs, and a smug grin directed at Luster.

They turned back into a giant spider and continued, “I’ve watched her rambles and stories influence our siblings, and our dwelling influence her rage. I watched her first flight beneath the real stars since her emancipation from stone, I was her messenger to our Hive during her ‘tantrum’ with the Crystal Empire, and we baked pastries together before. What exactly have you done to further her causes? You seem antithetical to her whole motive. That’s a genuine question. I’m curious why she keeps you.”

“She wouldn’t hire somecreature to hurt me!” Luster said.

“I wasn’t paid. And, golly, what a temper. You know, this wouldn’t have happened—” and they mimicked Cozy’s voice, “if you just listened, for once in your life! You know how dangerous Equestria is, how mean ponies are, what monsters run rampant, Lustie. Why couldn’t you just stay at home?”

The drone hovered an inch away from Luster’s and pouted between their black fangs. One pair of legs surrounded Luster, towering over her like living lampposts. The others were used to keep the body of this monster upright.

But Luster noticed the drone kept looking back at Fry’s general direction. Perhaps they knew how risky doing something like this in Canterlot was. She took her chance.

Luster clenched her teeth and jabbed her horn at the impostor’s right large eye. But the drone backed up, their lens an inch away from the slime-covered tip of Luster’s needle.

“So sneaky,” the drone said. An additional pair of legs, previously aiding in keeping the changeling’s body suspended, shot under Luster’s fake leather-clad legpits. “But if you hadn’t known, spiders have more than just two eyes.” The legs moved up and struck the wall hard. Flakes of white bricks fell near from their tips. Luster was pinned against a wall. Another leg pressed against her heart.

“He he,” the drone giggled. “You really thought you’d be able to—”

The tip of Luster’s horn shone and from it erupted an ice-blue spell. Frost magic illuminated the alley and revealed the spider’s grotesque hairy skin which had previously blended with the shadows. The upper half of Luster’s horn muffle shattered into fragments.

The spell missed. However, ostensibly being taken aback by a young mage’s freedom and stare spelling murder, the changeling dropped their pin on Luster. They straightened their legs, many times as long as their spine, and rose to a height of twelve meters before fading into the darker shadows.

Her spell had painted a ring of frost over the walls and ground and cooled the air by a few degrees. It was a messy cast, but Luster couldn’t waste her focus on details.

What in Twilight’s name just happened?! Luster thought. She still needed a moment to catch her breath before going to help Fry. Her sweat leaked over the changeling’s goop on her face. She couldn’t teleport feeling so anxious. And should she teleport back home? Her hunter was a changeling. What if they turned into a copy of Mom, or River Song, or Lightning Dust? She knew Chrysalis had spent many months trying to discover a mode of circumvention to the current spells used to reveal disguised changelings. If she succeeded, she’d rather not find out by herself at night in a forest.

Then: a green flash in the edge of her tunneled vision.

Not twenty seconds after Luster had cast her spell and the drone was ready for another round.

From the darkness shot a web of changeling goop which hit Luster’s left hind hoof. Then a shadow ran across her back, and another web struck and curled around her horn with enough power to make her fall backwards. A tank of a creature descended by way of two remaining spider legs scraping the walls, until those too shriveled alongside changeling flames into their spine. Six eyes merged into two. The drone’s legs—new, muscular, upright—landed from an inch over the ground; yet still, their weight shook the alleyway.

As a cloud departed from blocking the moonlight, Luster felt her resentment and fear rekindled. She recognized this creature. But how? How could a changeling know about this? Only Mom or maybe Fry would know, unless…

“You’re mother told me lots about you, oh little Luster,” said the drone in their new deep piggish voice. “I’ve been sent lots of references and given every creative freedom to let me do what I’m about to do. Long as the ends all meet, as she said, who gives a squalor about anything else?”

Metal bins shook as the bounty hunter took a step. Their beer gut jiggled from the large powers needed to puppet their muscles. From a toppled trash bin, they pulled a banana peel from what spilled on the floor. Then, they bent down to Luster’s head, aware of where her horn was pointing. Their calloused right palm rested on her jaw hinge; and a gap between their index and middle fingers, furless and fleshy yet covered in hairs, grasped Luster’s left ear. Their right thumb curled under her jaw. They clenched their left hand into a fist and— dropped the banana peel on Luster's mane!

The pig laughed without mercy at the filly’s disgrace. “You!—” They snorted. “You have a banana peel on your head!” Their fit was so violent they coughed out their phone.

And proceeded to take pictures of Luster wearing her ignominious apparel.

The filly kept her head low and shook the peel off her head despite the pig’s hand. But they still kept assaulting her with their camera phone’s flash. Luster started to jump on her hind legs and flailed her hooves to try to knock the phone out of the bully’s grasp. And they’d keep their hands still, until Luster was just about to succeed, only to pull their device up just before—and lowered it down again.

This was a game to them.

Sulking, against the barrage of flashes, Luster stomped up and turned around. Her bully had picked up the banana peel and licked its base to cover it in a green glue, and was looking for their victim. Luster bucked their knees. The pig shirked but bit their tongue. This was still Canterlot.

They crossed their eyebrows and kicked Luster a bit harder than they should’ve. The filly’s body flew and rolled across the floor.

“You little!…” The pig paused. “Luster?”

The pig tip-hoofed over to the filly. She lay with her temple on the floor, ears and tail hardly twitching, lungs frozen. As the changeling neared, they heard a sniffle, and smelt sadness.

“Luster?” they said. “Come on, I hardly tapped you! Ponies aren’t that fragile, even… how old are you again?” No response.

The drone transformed into a changeling—presumably not their normal look, but into a fake ‘reformed’ body: navy blue with a red transparent dorsal fin and wings. They’d rather be sighted as a monster from the Everfree Forest or as a bounty hunter from Kludgetown than as a traditional changeling in Canterlot.

“Come on” they continued, “don’t be so dramatic. You shouldn’t even be here. Where’s Lightning Dust, huh? Do you know how stressed your mother is? She’s out there in attempt to feed you, and here you are hopping between dumpsters. Have you even eaten? Come on, I’ll delete those photos, I promise. But only if you cease holding your breath. So, what da’ya say?” asked the drone, bringing their muzzle closer and closer to Luster’s upper body.

The calm air was chilling. Luster was too frightened to move. She thought that at any moment, her ‘new friend’ would snap. They’re luring her into a false sense of hope: having her think the fighting is over. Then they’d plunge their chin-scraping fangs deep into her tender neck, firm enough that not even magic could pull both out unless she wanted to split apart her jugular vein as well. Their breath, warmer than wind, brushed and made a cooling sensation against Luster’s sweaty legpit. The filly thought the drone’s muzzle was getting way too close.

They sniffed Luster’s neck. A lot of grit was needed on Luster’s part not to scrunch her shoulders. Come on, just leave... There’s many happier ponies roaming tonight to drain than the daughter of a supervillain!

Luster nearly eeked as they neared their muzzle closer. The sugary stench of digested love pervaded the air.

“I know you’re still awake, Lustie.”

The filly had enough. Why couldn’t this drone just leave her alone?!

Luster swung her head and jolted her horn to where she sensed the fiend’s face. But despite how suddenly she acted, changeling reflexes were too sharp. They dodge. But Luster wasn’t finished.

She mustered all the energy her fearful state could hold, and focused it all on one spell: a precise beam of sun-hot fire. She broke free from changeling slime before. She’d have less than a second to fire before the villain spits another web of mucus or opens their wings.

The mucus on the tip of her horn bubbled with magic and exploded. But the bristles on the drone’s body could detect the air distortion caused by heat. They commanded their user’s wings to dash sideways before consulting the primary brain. It seemed Luster’s spell had missed, and at any moment an enraged changeling would have their fun for round three.

But an idea popped up in Luster’s head. Once her beam had finished, she swung her head and curled the direction of her flame. The drone responded, flew back, but struck a wall. They tried to fly sideways. They stumbled on an attached drain pipe.

The compressed spell struck the drone’s left eye.

Luster had no focus on where she wanted her spell to strike specifically. But she was glad because the drone had fallen and let out a high screech, no longer able to contain themselves.

Luster manifested a slice spell across her mucus face mask—but it came out less cleanly than she hoped. Even blades of telekinetic magic could get stuck on changeling goop, apparently. She tried a few more times, cutting back and forth: slow and steadily; then quickly, but shallow. She was aware of how very real accidentally splitting in half your face was. After her seventh attempt, she steered her face into a wall shadow. But her slices were still producing flashes of light and a whining noise when held. The changeling could’ve calculated her efforts. But they only spared a peek.

The filly’s spell left a black splotch over their left eye. Painful. And it wasn’t just fire damage; it was magical fire damage. Its effects are hard to reverse on normal objects. Would a changeling soldier heal from such a wound? Would this be just another torn limb to sleep on, or like those permanent holes left in Chrysalis’ legs by Celestia? The drone was worried now.

This is Cozy’s… dependency, they thought; and sighed, slouching across the corner of the wall’s base to slide under a wheeled bin. You should’ve heeded Chrysalis’ words more strictly. This filly can be dangerous. And she’s a liability. What does Cozy get herself into? Always with the shortsighted plans. We should have a proper talk about this later. The drone touched their teary eye and winced, and smirked. “He, he… Oh…”

Luster finally managed to get most of the mucus mask off, though its outline stayed, particularly stubborn, and left a green circle over her the hairs of her face’s coat. Whatever. She could see and talk clearly, even if she’d rather not lick her lips.

“Where are you?!” Luster said. A flick of her horn sent the bin flying sideways. Where it once stood, she found the changeling drone in a disciplined position: sitting upright, facing the wall, away from her torchlight spell. Whatever faces it was pulling, Luster couldn’t see. If ponies had strong kicks, changelings were good jumpers. Their legs could jolt like loaded crossbows, and this drone had, for a bug, a muscular pair of flanks and a big head. They had already done their ‘abrupt jump’ trick once.

Then Luster thought she heard a rattle. She conjured a shield in front of herself and kept up her spell. The shield added another source of light, broader and more scattered than her horn’s. She walked a ninety-degree arc around the body.

The drone’s eyes were closed, their face seemed soulless, their mouth was open, the sides of their lips were torn. Before Luster could question her eyes, a buzz spawned behind her: changeling wings. The jump itself was silent.

The body Luster had been watching was a fake of molted skin kept vivid by illusory magic. The real fiend had slipped off and now bore intention far worse than just a simple fright. Their fangs were aching from non-use. Venom whetted both of their tips.

Fear had grasped Luster much tighter than the changeling, and threw off her acuity. But it didn’t matter. It was all happening too fast for eyes or ears.

There was a padded Thump!

Luster turned around and shot as powerful of a blast as she could assemble so soon; her horn shot only sparks and flickers. A fraction of her energy had jolted back into her forehead. That created an uncomfortable feeling of obstruction and fullness.

“Woah! Stop,” said a new voice: deeper than her current adversary’s, distinctively also a changeling’s. He was also in a presumably fake reformed look. His body was a similar color to their partner’s, but instead of red, their wings and fins were green.

Luster was too enraged to listen to her enemy’s buddy. Coupled by an urge to expel all her pent-up magic, she shot another spell. A reflection of panic appeared over this new changeling’s eyes. He hastened to place one hoof over Luster’s horn and—Bzzt! Just a benign zap, and another throb to Luster’s skull.

As she recovered by lifting her aching head, Luster noticed a deep purple horseshoe on the new drone’s hoof, and also a pair on the old one’s which she missed before. The metal blended almost seamlessly with their bodies. Since when did changeling’s wear shoes? Luster wondered. And how did he block my attack?

“Luster, calm down,” said the second drone in a steady manner. “Look, we’re done here. We’ll go—leave. My partner won’t try to bite you, won’t she?”

Luster only now noticed that the first drone had her teeth clamped into her brother’s foreleg; she was standing on her hind legs and still had her front pair out, ready to grab onto her prey, her wings buzzing to produce Luster’s least favorite sound. The second drone seemed to have intentionally intercepted his partner before she could gash Cozy’s daughter. And green goop was covering his horizontal leg.

When Luster looked back, she noticed the trash over Fry’s hole was gone and that Fry’s sleeping head, covered in a plastic bag facing away, was cocoon-free. When she looked back again at the changeling pair, she saw the first drone devouring her own mucus, probably to ‘reuse’ later.

Luster turned away and held a gag. “Bleh!”

“Heh, ponies,” said the second drone.

“This is not funny!” said the first drone. “Look at how she scorched my left eye!” She lifted her left hoof and it glisten with green flames. Luster went to standby. But she transforming into anything dangerous, only making her hoof glow by borrowing a fluorescent protein from a jellyfish. Luster had never before seen a drone change only one part of their body.

“Oof,” said the second drone.

The injured drone smirked in an unsettling way. “But it’ll regenerate, right?”

“...I think. How would I know what sort of spell she cast? All I know was that she was feeling very murderous when she did.”

“Didn’t you claim to have fought mages before?

“Yeah, but I don’t get hit.” He couldn’t help but smirk himself.

He blocked his face as his partner charged her hoof for a punch—only to pause an inch away from impact. Apparent only to changeling senses was a sudden shift of mood. They lowered their front legs and looked at each other before turning to Luster, who was attending to Fry.

When she felt teal eyes over her, she resumed a dramatic battle pose. The drones looked upwards. Almost immediately after, they dashed towards the two foals.

Luster spawned a shield, but it was pointless. One drone jumped at her, transforming and de-transforming into and from something narrow and so quickly, all Luster could discern was an arrow of green fire lighting the wall. The other drone was already behind her. He wrapped a leg around her neck. The jumping drone shattered her shield spell with a headbutt and held her strange horseshoe to Luster’s horn. Luster was about to scream but noticed how close both of her enemies’ fangs were to her neck.

The drone threatening to choke her placed his head to her ear and said, “This should be obvious, but you don’t tell anycreature about what just happened, got it, Lustie? For your own sake, and for Cozy’s. My partner is a big fan of arachnids. She can mimic their poisons without changing her outside form, and even modify their compositions to heighten certain… effects. Make it really sharp and slow, burning, tingling. There’s probably enough venom dripping from her fangs right now to put a classroom of colts to sleep. She’s never had an opportunity to play scientist on a pony before. At least not fully. Now, if she heard you told, then, well… Take care.” He patted Luster’s mane before both he and his partner dashed to a marehole cover.

“Oh, and change your voicemail, Lustie!” said the second drone in a perfect replica of Butter Sky’s voice before she disappeared.

My voicemail… “...Did Mom tell her that…?” Luster said to herself. “...It couldn’t have been bad enough for her to do all of this…”

Fry groaned from the ground. “What… what happened? Is it morning?”

“It’s been... a while since sunset,” Luster said as she raised Fry’s forehoof. “And we should probably get out of here. Like, right now.”

They left the alley and entered the main road. A drizzle of snow had started. The flakes melted upon touching the ground. Neither of the foals wanted to deal with a cold night if it got any worse.

Luster’s horn started to glow. Fry was dumbfounded by what he knew Luster was preparing to do. He pushed himself off of Luster’s back.

“What’s wrong?” Luster asked, afraid. Had those changelings realized her to be a loose-end and liability? Would she have to fight again? Was Fry poisoned? Was he in pain? Was he—

“You’re not teleporting me anywhere!” Fry protested.

Luster felt relieved, then a bit perturbed. “Really?” she said. “After all of that, you’re scared to teleport?”

“After all of what?” Fry asked.

“...Nevermind.”

They were in an open street now anyways. The sidewalk was clean and hosted pairs of ponies having coffee on metal tables whilst foals run around staring into display panels. Luster could walk, and carry Fry along too with her magic.

She planned to teleport home afterwards though, and run herself a warm soapy bath, for once! Maybe sleep in her mother’s bedroom actually. Cozy’s bed was a cloud and always cooler than hers.

They hadn’t started walking yet. Fry was busy wondering which route would lead to his house the quickest. He dug through his memory for any hidden shortcuts until he thought he knew exactly the path. But still, he was weak from changeling sedatives, and he still wanted to know what had happened.

Did he pass out? That seems pretty serious. But Luster’s lips were sealed. All she would say was not to worry.

“Should be… around that way,” said Fry, who pointed, leaning on Luster. The filly turned towards his pointing. She noticed the wrapped of her and Fry’s bouquet snack from earlier lying on the floor. Being nothing less of a model citizen, which was the only way to be rebellious when you’re the daughter of a demon, Luster used her magic to properly put the litter when it should be.

She heard metal hoofsteps from a parenting tram-stop roof.

“Lu—” Fry’s voice got cut off and his weight was lifted from Luster’s shoulders.

Then muffled shouting. Luster instinctively latched onto Fry as she turned around. The light from her horn revealed two ponies: a pegasus holding Fry high up, and a unicorn imposing her magic to seal his lips. They all looked at the new source of light. Luster was preparing to shoot a fireball at the guards, out of habit. But the unicorn had already summoned a shield, and she realized maybe attacking immediately guards wasn’t the brightest idea. The various lights illuminated their attire: golden body plates, helmets, horseshoes, and Twilight’s insignia.

Were they actual guards?

A pastel-orange pegasus kicked herself off the side of the bus stop’s roof and jumped onto Luster. The filly cast a bubble shield. But the mare’ body was almost through the bubble. Only one of her legs got trapped between the magical construct. Luster’s horn hummed, readying a potent offense.

Then Luster saw her reflection on the guard’s helmet: her face warped by the curve of the headpiece. There were other guards nearby, their eyes all against her. If she finished this mare, what would happen? If she fled now, teleported home, and locked her doors, what would they do to her, to Fry, or worse, to Mom? She thought maybe she was dreaming. Maybe a changeling-induced nightmare?

That was when the mage guard from before shot an anti-spell and neutralized Luster’s shield. The pegasus guard tackled the suspect. Her legs, cheeks, and jacket kissed the cold stone floor.

“Don’t move!” shouted the guard atop her.

The mage summoned a magic muffler. The golden ring had a swirling crystal pattern and looked to be more advanced than what Luster had on when she was a younger filly in Kludgetown. Her fear of the event was still alive. She started to thrash to signal her protest. The pegasus guard stiffened her grasp. Luster still wondered what she was being suspected of.

“So, is this just a noise complaint,” asked a new rookie guard, side-eyeing Fry.

“He’s that colt from Kludgetown,” said her friend. “Index 37, page 12. And, if I’m not mistaken…” She summoned a folder which had a spectrum of bookmarks sticking out, and used a spell on Luster to find her section, and—“Aha! A ‘Luster Dawn.’ Daughter to a single mother, resident of 5 years, up to date with her shots, home-schooled… Well, you were lucky, weren’tcha?”

Another guard flew in. He said, “Gallus is occupied with a matter involving the Princess. Just detain these creatures until he’s free. No further instructions.”

Luster gulped. Mom will actually murder me...

The guards forced Luster and Fry towards the innermost ring of Canterlot, lit outside along the walls by lamps pointed downwards. The first security check involved gatekeepers performing a full magical x-ray of the two. They still decided to ruffle their manes just to be sure nothing was hidden, and triple-checked the sturdiness of Luster’s magic muffler.

The sight of two foals being escorted by so many guards got the attention of a few tourists and noble families. Their silence was as judgmental as a scoff. At least, it felt that way to Fry and Luster. A gatekeeper was doing the paperwork for the both to enter, and Luster could tell where his picture was on the page from when he glanced over his clipboard. Fry already knew.

After passing over some document for the guard in-charge to sign, a guardsmare levitated two black lanyards: one for Fry and for Luster. Attached was a dangling plastic card holder, which housed an access card. Its design was shrouded by an orange piece of paper, which displayed their details written in ink. Under their names lay a tick to a symbol representing their tribe (as if not obvious), and on the bottom, inside a box labeled ‘other comments,’ was written: “from Kludgetown”. Luster had an extra comment, “horn-happy delinquent.”

The second-in-command made his signature and got his clearance to bring the foals further into the walls. Every pony inside either had important business demanding royal attention or worked under the Diadem.

Maids and guards, many with their helmets off, sat at candle-lit benches near campus restaurants and cafés; a few were socializing with non-profit and for-profit leaders, entrepreneurs, and elder business ponies waiting for their five minutes with Twilight Sparkles. You had to practice your manners before speaking to the Princess. She’s been so stressed these past few years and has been known to lash out at even Very Important Ponies. Doors closed and denied by diurnally-sharpened spears prevented escape as long lectures were administered in Her acoustic throne room. No creature wanted that.

“Keep on moving, you foals,” said a guard. “You should consider yourself lucky. Many creatures would pay a small fortune for a tour as thorough as the one you’re about to get.” And she whispered, “Keep misbehaving and you might get a free room downstairs, too.”

“There are quite a lot of steps to get to the dungeons from up here,” said a different pegasus guard. “You have to walk down the whole mountain's height with just your hooves.”

“And there aren’t any railings,” the first guard added. “You fall off, and—Slat!”

The guards giggled. Luster and Fry were both getting cold. Around them, nearly every creature was dressed. Many had a metal helmet and body plates bearing Twilight’s mark (padded with clouds), or a maid’s dress including an apron with wavy edges, or a tuxedo alongside a monocle and a gelled back mane.

One guard dared another to put on Luster’s jacket. And she did, whilst looking at the filly.

“It fits you better than it fits her!” said another guard, dropping a leg over her friend’s shoulders. Everygaurd was smiling at each other. A few were strangling their laughter.

“Nothing happened, huh?” said Fry to Luster, who was still upset by her secrecy.

Luster sulked and looked actually pretty upset. She held back a few sniffles.

Gallus—Hero of Equestria, whose figure on clerical window adorned Equestria’s highest hall—left the local Hayburger joint.

He only just missed catching Fry and Luster. He was supposed to be there for their arrest, there was a very important reason he had to leave so hastily. Twilight wanted an early dinner. She had lowered the Sun only a while ago on late-winter scheduled, but a long day of diplomacy and governance still lies ahead of her.

This wasn’t an early Friday, but it was a fast-food Friday, to the dismay of her chefs. She wanted to enjoy her dinner because lunch had been too short. And she was too busy anyways to be bothered by tabloids headlines.

Plus, Hayburger was running a limited food-item: a seafood delight made of lurid plants and salts and spices native to Seaquestria. Twilight also ordered a large icy cup.

Why was the Captain of the Guard fetching food? Twilight trusted her own guards and escort teams enough for diplomats to come and go without Gallus watching over their necks. What was a far graver possibility was her food arriving late. Then she’s have to sit through all those hundreds of hearing hungry. Twilight wanted to relax this weekend and had implied to Starlight that she would try to pop in for her new teacher bonding thing later today. Busy, busy, busy. Though a bit humiliating, Gallus understood and carried out his role to the fullest.

He flew up to a balcony which was a known shortcut to Twilight’s throne room. A flight of stairs and hallway later, he passed by day-duty creatures swapping out with their night-duty counterparts. The former wore golden plates with celestial motifs. The latter were more Luna’s fashion: dark metals and luminescent badges. Many of the castle’s maids were ready to go home for the weekends and would prefer not to get caught in any snow. Still, they all either saluted, nodded, or let out a shy “Hi” as Gallus passed, and he would acknowledge back silently.

Two guards opened the roof-spanning doors to the throne room, but only slightly so that Gallus could sneak in as Twilight wraps up her current meeting. The scent and ruffling of his paper bags was still noticed by Twilight’s ascended senses.

“I’ll be sure to ask our animal expert about a solution for your issues concerning our cat population’s effects on Canterlot’s other critters and wildlife,” Twilight said to a group of three citizens who were of Diamond Dog species and had pet birds on their heads. Spike, Brave and Glorious assistant to her side, rubbed his eyes as he penned a letter before yawning a shadow-casting flame, sending it to Fluttershy’s cottage mailbox. “I’ll be sure to have the Castle write back to you once your ‘neutering’ suggestion gets vetted by our Abyssinian interest groups. This is a very important issue you three brought up. So, if you don't have any further questions—”

One of the three raised a paw. “I—”

“Sorry! There’s another creature waiting for me,” Twilight said, smiling. “We’ll reach out with updates—but I really have to go now! Bye! Thanks again!” Two guards marched up from the base of Twilight’s throne and showed the guests to the very big doors.

The Princess, now out of the public eye, leaned back into her throne and released a pent-up sigh. Not to waste precious seconds, she simultaneously used her magic to take the bags off of Gallus’ claws.

“Long day?” Gallus asked.

“Like any other,” Twilight replied, flipping the paper bags upside down and separating each creature’s order via magic whilst resting a cheek on her hoof. Not everything in the bags was for her.

One meal was for Spike. A few were for her nearest guards and attendants. Gallus got upset when he first found out he was delivering meals for creatures other than Twilight or Spike. He assumed royal staff or, Celestia-forbid, other guards manipulated the order list just to splurge royal funds on themselves. Or had they perhaps manipulated Twilight because she’s the embodiment of Friendship after all? He wore a bag attached to his side which had a legal ddress and so could receive letters sent via dragon mail, so he rarely got letter directly. But he distrusted his own assumptions once he realized one of the items on the list was his favorite thing to order from Hayburger.

It’s hard to deny a gift from a Princess. Felt almost blasphemous to do so. If Twilight was feeling grumpy and she’d play into her imposed character: “Are you questioning my decision?” Playing, but Twilight had been a hero for long enough that most of her guards and maids at least had toys of her and her friends in a box in their parents’ attic, if not a full collection of novelty coins and silverware. Even half-jokingly declaring, ‘yeah, I don’t want a hayburger, Princess,’ felt wrong, traitorous, Evil.

Once Twilight arranged the contents of the three bags by type of item, she reordered everything into what belonged to whom. Before she could finish, Spike flew up and grabbed his food. Twilight took the hint, hastened, and skipped dividing the condiments. She passed a meal box each to her six guards: two coming back from escorting the guests; two inside, standing by the door; and two on the outside. And she passed a box to Gallus.

The Princess clarified to her guards, “Yes, you all can eat now.” Because if they were unsure, they’d leave the meal alone on the floor until the box would get soggy with oil. Or the ice in the drinks would melt and dilute the cola. The smell of food visibly neglected would tempt the Princess to take back her gift.

To appear civilized in front of the Royalty, her guards eat their meals with the provided wooden utensils, even if they weren’t unicorns. One earth mare had a spoon in her mouth and fought to divide the burger without toppling the whole thing over. Twilight giggled, offering no advice on the matter.

She ripped ketchup packet wide across and doused it over her patty. There were cups floating by her side in case of saltiness. Spike wiped his leaking nostrils and a tear from his eye with his cleanest digit. Spiciness wasn’t what the Princess expected. Should she prepare a glass of milk? She hadn’t taken a bite yet. As she weighed her options, she spotted a file in a bag hanging from Gallus’ side.

“Anything big happen?” she asked.

Gallus, who was about to take a bite of his burger pulled back to respond, said, “A ‘Luster Dawn,’ unicorn filly, stopped Sweetie Belle, our Sweetie Belle, from getting robbed by our ‘Georgia.’” He pulled out his file containing all the info. Soon it turned purple and flew to the Princess.

Normally, she’d be too busy mentally preparing for her next few hours of work to bother with somecreature else’s, but under the occasion of a new special meal, she thought she’d stretch her anticipation for a short moment longer.

“The griffon from the School of Friendship?” Twilight asked, tucking a few loose clip-attached photos into the file.

“Yep. We’ve apprehended both of them, and also one of the unicorn’s friends.”

“Why?”

“...Well… because Georgia’s recent mannerisms stuck us as… strange—for her. We would’ve ignored it, but one of the creatures at the scene was familiar with the files of the Kludgie—” Twilight looked over at the Captain; all the struggling guards’ eyes widened and froze at the floor. “...excuse me, Kludgetown creatures, thought he recognized the filly. Wouldn’t you know it? She apparently has links to the city. So does her coltfriend. All three showed up in Equestria very soon after ‘supposedly’ Cozy Glow’s power surge. I know you said not to pursue her old… friends... but from our interviews, there seemed to be a pattern in who they ‘help out.’”

“...Fine. Kludgetown isn’t your typical badly run city,” said Twilight, flipping through the file. “I nearly felt my hope drain going in there once. That was after the Storm King took over Canterlot. Still, I was with my friends as a grown pony. For a foal, I imagine it’s more traumatic. The stigma doesn’t help... Try to make sure they’re all aware of our programs—and I’m referring to the Kludgetown migrants and Cozy’s ‘Pawns.’ Also, if it’s not too much trouble, I’d pass some of this info along to Starlight, mostly about Georgia but also those two other…”

As she strummed the pages, practically fanning herself, Twilight caught a glimpse of the filly’s photo. Pause. And upon unfreezing, her hue saturated back up two papers and pulled out ‘Luster Dawn’s’ personal particular. Then she had all the other documents arranged in a circle around her, and sorted each one till her view resembled a solitaire deck.

Spike, holding his burger in his right hand and comic on his left, looked up. “Uhh, Twilight?” He asked. “Aren’t you gonna eat? It’s getting cold.”

“Hm? Oh, of course. Gallus’ work is just interesting…” The Princess looked at her Captain of the Royal Guard. “Where are these creatures now?”