Blinding rays of light filter through wide, arched windows into the waiting room. Outside is a stunning view of the snow-capped mountain range stretching away from Upper Canterlot. The odd thin, misty cloud drifts lazily across the sky, breaking up the otherwise clear air. The pegasi swooping between them could be mistaken for birds at this distance.

Real birds flick between the roofs of huge mansions more comparable to miniature castles than houses, complete with heavy stone walls and little streams forming mock moats. One such stream snakes around this very building. A gardener serenely clips at the hedges around it.

Despite being a world capital, this part of Canterlot has seen none of the breakneck construction and industrialization projects littering every other major city. The skyline is made of brick and wood rather than concrete and steel, and the clip of hooves and trickle of water far overpowers the distant rumbling of automobiles and construction machinery.

The Changeling in the waiting room pays no attention to these details. He sits wide-eyed on the floor in a shadowed corner of the room, clutching a thick piece of paper like a lifeline. His dress is a strange mix of Stalliongrad winter outfit and utilitarian changeling uniform; a heavy coat lies over a tie with a white shirt tucked into a thick pair of pants and a belt. A wallet is tied to one of the Changeling's front hooves.

He carries nothing else.

A pair of magazines lie on the table in the center of the room. The Changeling glances at them yearningly with his deep purple eyes, but restrains his curiosity. He instead simply waits patiently, idly listening to the quiet hubbub of laughter and shouted greetings filtering through the door to the corridor.

Said door suddenly bursts open with a bang. The Changeling's head whips around to take in the source of this disturbance.

A white-furred, silver-horned unicorn stands dramatically in the entrance. He looks around the little room, eyes flicking this way and that. After a moment, he sighs dejectedly. When his gaze lands on the Changeling, though, he perks up again.

"Helloooo, mister changeling. What are you doing on the floor?" The words roll out of the pony's muzzle with a hint of amusement.

The Changeling blinks. "Th- there was no space when I came here," he spills out in broken Equestrian.

He realizes he must look foolish sprawled on the ground, and quickly shifts into one of the chairs under the windows. The Changeling squints against the sharp, unfiltered morning light. Here in the mountains the air is sweet and clear. There is no smog or mist to dilute the light like back in Vesalipolis. "I am waiting for the interview."

The unicorn snickers. "What's that you're holding? Your résumé?" He sits next to the Changeling, reclining lavishly with no care for his now-crumpled fancy white cloak.

"It is a note. From my brother," explains the Changeling. He sees no harm in making polite conversation- friendship, friendship!- and is glad to tell someone his story, at the very least. "Things are not good at home- at Vesalipolis. I came here to study at the University."

The unicorn's smirk quickly fades into a frown. "You're here to be a student? I thought you were applying to join the staff and got lost or something."

"No, no. I am going to study. I am going to learn about friendship and harmony," the Changeling replies proudly.

He's travelled for months to get here. Despite the recent railway efforts, there is still no connection between Vraks and the Equestrian border. He had to travel on hoof along a dirt path while the main road was being torn up and widened to make room for the increasingly prevalent automobiles.

And all that, only to reach a chaotic border where the Equestrian military was putting up fences and building roads to make their sovereignty absolutely clear after the failed changeling takeover of Canterlot.

The unicorn's muzzle opens and closes with no words. Despite himself, the Changeling savours the unicorn's surprise.

The unicorn finally finds something to say. He readopts his confident and slightly smug tone. "A changeling in the University of Friendship. Your kind aren't known for 'friendship and harmony', are they?"

A bitter taste suddenly develops in the Changeling's mouth. "What do you mean, 'my kind'?"

"I-" The unicorn shakes his head. "Nevermind."

There's an awkward silence for a few seconds. The Changeling can't think of anything to say. He wants to make friends, yes, but he's not feeling inclined to chat with this strangely hostile unicorn.

"So... where have you studied? What are your qualifications?" the unicorn restarts the conversation with a much warmer tone.

The Changeling blinks hard again. "I- I am here to study. This will be my qualification. That is the job of the University of Friendship, no?" He chuckles.

The pony laughs uncertainly with him. "Yeah, but this is a top Equestrian institution. They don't let just anyone in like they did in the School of Friendship days. Like"- he levitates a laminated paper from under his cloak- "here's what I've been doing for the past few years."

The Changeling tentatively levitates the paper in front of his face and skims through it. 'Industrial Reform Committee', 'Junior Secretary to the Applied Magics Minister', and other such prestigious-sounding positions are listed. The Changeling is confused. He has come here to study, to learn the art of spreading friendship.

What do fancy jobs and résumés have to do with friendship?

He returns the paper. "I don't have any... 'qualifications', except my willingness to learn and the pull of harmony." The Changeling pauses, judging the unicorn's expression. He feels he is not getting his point across and continues more anxiously.

"What you bring before the University is not about what you have learnt and what you have not, is it? It is simply a proof of your struggle to learn more. I have struggled. I have turned away from the path my parents took, and left what I loved to come here. You have struggled"- he nods at the paper- "and there is your proof."

It still tears at him. Most of his nights these past few months have been spent sleepless, wondering about his family. The Changeling Lands are in chaos as competing factions fight to wrest control from Queen Chrysalis, and the Changeling cannot help but see bloody visions of faceless soldiers breaking into his home and doing ungodly things to his brethren.

He thought that leaving would sedate the terror of being there, but all he's received is the terror of not knowing.

He has struggled.

The unicorn frowns, without malice. "But- if you're giving up on your home, and your family, you could do anything else. Why this?"

"Why this...?" The Changeling isn't sure what he's referring to.

"I mean, why not have an easy job? An easy life?"

The bitter taste reappears. "We do not simply desire an easy life. I want to work hard for what I believe in." The Changeling thinks about what really draws him here. Why struggle? He has the answer. "I could have stayed in Vesalipolis, but I would have served a purpose I do not feel for. I would not really be living."

The unicorn blinks uncomprehendingly. Once again, the Changeling feels that he doesn't understand.

"Next!" comes a shout from inside the adjoining room. The Changeling stands up, staring at the unicorn.

"Er... good luck, mister unicorn. I have a feeling we will see each other again. We could be friends." He offers peace.

"I- yeah, good luck to you too. I wouldn't bet on the 'friends' part," the unicorn replies distantly. He is looking out the window, ignoring the Changeling.

Declined.

The Pony swaggers up the steps to the front door of the University of Friendship. His cloak billows out behind him in a dramatic fashion and his hooves create sharp clips on the stone. He's cool, he's confident, he's ready to take on the world.

He doesn't particularly want to.

Passing through the glass front doors, the Pony barely looks around the busy reception. He's already seen the magnificent sculpted chandelier hanging from the roof, seen the statues of the Elements, seen the important faces and busy hooves, seen the thought-provoking artwork adorning the walls that would speak to the very of a soul of a pony, if they have any.

He knows his way around. He's getting late, though, and picks up the pace as he searches for the right door.

The Pony finally locates it and stops outside. Takes a deep breath. This will be the first impression his potential classmates and, in the future, colleagues and business partners will have of him, he reminds himself. He strikes a dramatic pose, prepares his telekinesis and slams open the door.

It bursts open with a bang. The Pony looks around an apparently empty room and sighs disappointedly. It seems every pony has already given their interview- or maybe not.

From a shadowed corner of the room, two purple eyes glow curiously. The Pony can just barely make out the the little changeling laying like a cat in the corner. It lifts his mood up instantly.

"Hellooooooo, mister changeling. What are you doing on the floor?" he purrs delightedly.

He's never met a changeling before, but their reputation goes before them. Shapeshifting, devious monsters that recently tried to subtly overthrow the government in Canterlot and, failing that, launched a surprise invasion from hidden underground complexes around the city.

So, to the Pony, it is the most fascinating species on Equus.

The changeling blinks, startled by the Pony's entrance. "Th- there was not a space when I came." He suddenly scrambles to his hooves and sits down on one of the chairs. His face develops a slight tint of red. "I am waiting for the interview."

The Pony snickers at that. This strangely-dressed changeling is lost. He knows the University is looking for a new lab assistant, and guesses the changeling has ended up in the wrong room. Poor thing.

"What's that you're holding? Your résumé?" He sits next to the changeling, determined to keep him here as long as possible. The chances of him ever meeting a changeling again are slim.

"It is a note. From my brother. Things are not good at home- at Vesalipolis," the changeling explains. Wherever that is. "I came here to study at the University."

Baffling. "You're here to be a student?" the Pony blurts out. "I thought you were applying to join the staff and got lost or something," he elaborates, seeing confusion cross the changeling's face.

"No, no. I am going to study. I am going to learn about friendship and harmony," the changeling explains with a fanged smile. His eyes seem to physically glow brighter with determination and passion for a moment.

The Pony gapes at the changeling. So he really is serious. The Pony is disturbed to see the changeling's determined grin suddenly turn to an amused smirk, and rushes to make a comeback.

"A changeling in the University of Friendship. Your kind aren't known for 'friendship and harmony', are they?" he responds in as neutral of a tone as possible. He'd love to know how a changeling, of all species, would end up wanting to study here.

A pause.

"What do you mean, 'my kind'?" the changeling responds in a suddenly frigid tone.

The Pony realizes how that must have sounded to the changeling. "I didn't-"

He catches the changeling's expression. Narrowed eyes, set muzzle... changeling or not, he recognizes the look from his time on the committee. It's that of a deeply insulted pony who won't stand for any pathetic excuses. The Pony shakes his head helplessly.

"Nevermind."

They both fall silent. The Pony looks around the room for some way to get out of this awkward situation, but... no, he wants to know why the changeling is here. He needs to know.

"So... where have you studied? What are your qualifications?" he tries a more friendly tone.

The changeling blinks at him. He's relieved to see the hostility has faded.

"I- I'm here to study. This will be my qualification. That is the job of the University of Friendship, no?" The changeling laughs out loud as if he's made some joke.

Trying to be polite, the Pony laughs too before trying to gently break reality to him. "Yeah, but this is a top Equestrian institution. They don't let just anyone in like they did in the School of Friendship days. Like"- he levitates a laminated paper from under his cloak- "here's what I've been doing in the past few years."

It's a list of every job he's wasted his youth at. Months spent toiling away, day and night, slowly making friends and learning the ropes and settling in for once only for his parents to pull some strings and find him a supposedly better position halfway across the country.

He knows the list by heart and can see exactly what the changeling is reading as if the paper was in front of him.

'Field Agent for the Industrial Reform Committee'. That's where he met a communist and a tsarist in the same room. He listened to them bicker every day till he loved it. He worked till he felt he was doing something, making some real change for Equestria. He felt pride and satisfaction when he went to tour and assess brand-new factories for the Committee. And then it was over.

'Junior Secretary to the Applied Magics Minister'. A dull, tedious job during the early months, stuck in an office in poverty-stricken Baltimare, till he met a mare and they felt they loved each other as young adults foolishly do. He'd never felt so alive. And then it was over.

'Imperial Servant'. A vague job title, and a vaguer job still. He did everything in the Crystal City from filling coffee cups to helping plan the railways that would tie the country together. Again, he suffered till his hooves bled and his back ached from long nights spent outside in the freezing cold, making sure work was getting done, and the moment he felt he had reached some stability, some contentment- it was over.

Years of his youth that should have been spent building a life, reduced to words on a page. Every night he wishes nothing more than to have stood in place any one of those times and held on as firmly as he could, damn his parents or family expectations.

The changeling returns the paper and takes a deep breath, as if preparing himself for a long monologue. "I don't have any... 'qualifications', except my willingness to learn and the pull of harmony."

What is the changeling on about now?

"What you bring before the University is not about what you have learnt and what you have not, is it? It is simply a proof of your struggle to learn more. I have struggled. I have turned away from the path my parents took, and left what I loved to come here. You have struggled"- he nods at the paper- "and there is your proof."

The Pony frowns, trying his best to understand. This changeling hasn't come here out of some desire to escape, or live a good life. The University of Friendship is itself a struggle. Any other university in Canterlot could guarantee you an easy, well-paying job as a bureaucrat or an accountant from some noble. Why struggle for more struggling?

He wants to know why. "But- if you're giving up on your home, and your family, you could do anything else. Why this?" He needs to know why.

"Why this...?"

"I mean, why not have an easy job? An easy life?" The Pony is almost desperate at this point. He feels this changeling has an answer he's been chasing for so long.

"We do not simply desire an easy life. I want to work hard for what I believe in. I could have stayed in Vesalipolis, but I would have served a purpose I do not feel for. I would not really be living."

Why? Why? The changeling still won't answer the question. He just gives the Pony a small smile of mild disappointment, or confusion.

"Next!" comes a shout from the adjoining room. It is time for the changeling's interview. The Pony has no faith in the changeling making it into the school. The University looks for qualifications and scores, not one's passion for harmony.

The Pony stares out the window. A gardener is carefully clipping hedges outside. Passion... is that why the changeling is here? Because he believes in a dream he can achieve?

That is why. The Pony feels the sudden urge to stand up and declare it out loud, but the changeling has just said something.

"Yeah, good luck to you too. I wouldn't bet on the 'friends' part," he replies distantly. One way or another, he won't be seeing the changeling again. He barely registers as the door to the adjoining room opens and shuts.

Passion. The Pony has no passion for the University. He has no passion for wealth or titles. The changeling is here because he believes he can do something. The Pony is here because he believes there's no other choice, but that's not true.

'I would have served a purpose I do not feel for. I would not really be living.'

What did he enjoy? Where did he feel alive? Where he got the chance to live, without his family's desires hanging over his head.

He can seize it once again, can't he? Those months spent slowly lulling himself into a comfortable routine, getting to know his future colleagues and friends and lovers. This time, he'll do it free of the threat of it being suddenly ripped away again.

There's nothing to fear. If this changeling could make it all the way to Equestria from whatever far-off land the changelings live, the Pony's own family certainly cannot stop him. Nothing can. He can go and live.

The Pony's mind spins, giddy with possibilities. He stands up, looking around as if somepony might stop him. It can't be this easy.

When nothing happens, he trots over to the door, and leaves behind an unwanted future.

Author's Note

There's the first chapter done! The second chapter should be published along with it, so feel free to continue reading.

Thank you for reading, and please enjoy.

FAQs:
Q. You promised an Equestria at 'War' fic. Where's the war?
A. Don't worry, your bloodshed and violence is on its way. Next chapter, please.

Q. Is this just going to be two characters repeating the exact same events?? That's boring!
A. Not at all. Next chapter, please.

Q. Why are some things different between the perspectives? Is that a mistake?
A. Nope, it's intentional. These are two different people who prioritize certain facts and diminish others. Ofcourse they'll recall events differently.

Q. Hey, this reads a bit weirdly. Why is that?
A. My apologies! English isn't my first language, and I'm still learning how to write stories. Tying together the narrative, characters, world, and themes is much harder than it seems. I'm open to any feedback and criticisms in the comments which could help me improve in the future.

Q. Were roboponies involved in this?
A. Nope! This fic is 100% written and proof-read by real ponies. (Real ponies could not fact-check this statement.)