A Sheep In Wolf's Clothing

by Jest

Rating: mature
Tags: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Death, Alternate Universe, Human, Original Character, Adventure, Violence, Sex
Length: 18692

William was not always a changeling. At one point he was a man. A man with lofty ideals, and more to look forward to than being a conscript in his new queen's war.

William was not always a changeling. At one point he was a man. A man with lofty ideals, and more to look forward to than being a conscript in his new queen's war.

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Content Warnings Eventually there will be some smutty stuff, but that will be clearly marked.

Published 2024-12-04 22:40:03 UTC
Last updated 2024-12-07 23:53:30 UTC

The Wheel, Turns

William stared into the duplicated face looking back at him from within the cracked mirror. He appeared, at least to himself, to be average in at least most ways.

He wore square glasses, with thin rims, obscuring the blue eyes that hid behind them. His hair was long but parted to one side so it wouldn't obscure his already poor vision. Possessed of an angular, narrow face, he wasn't exactly attractive, doubly so when he smiled and revealed teeth that looked at first glance to be too big for his mouth.

That was fine, he rarely had reason to smile anyway so it hardly ever came up. Today was no different. In fact, he was fairly certain he hadn't smiled since he had coffee with his sister, the pair having reconnected after he had been kicked out of his childhood home. The memory of his religious parents tossing him onto the street with little more than the clothes on his back was a painful one but the thought of his always caring sibling finding him later in life made it feel not quite as bad.

He was awake early, or at least early for William, for although it was one in the afternoon he had only gotten home at six that morning after a nearly thirteen-hour shift. He needed to shower, but no matter how long it ran, he had yet to see any plume of steam billow from the top of the shower curtain. With a sigh, he turned around, took a step forward, and stuck his hand through the flap and the wall, testing the water.

“Shit,” he cursed, recoiling his arm. “Still cold.”

For a moment he stood there, contemplating whether or not he even really needed a shower. Then he caught a whiff of himself, and with a resigned sigh, chose to drop the towel around his waist.

“This is gonna suck,” he muttered to himself.

Wincing prematurely, he jumped into the cold water and hastily began cleaning himself as best and as fast as he was able. In only a few short minutes he emerged, shivering but smelling nice. Or at least he assumed he smelled nice, as he at least for the moment, couldn't smell anything.

“My nose probably froze solid,” William thought aloud.

Making his way back into the only other room in the apartment, he stopped at the toaster and plucked the waffles that were waiting for him. Still warm, he stuck one in his mouth before sitting on the edge of his bed, hands resting on his computer keyboard. As he chewed, he maneuvered over to his bank account, desperate to find the one thing that brought him joy in his usual day-to-day.

A grin came to his face as he saw all those zeroes appear, the man barely able to contain the joy he felt well in his chest. He may not have a nice apartment or really much of anything, but he had done it, well he had almost done it. Only two short paycheques and he’d have enough to pay for a bachelor of sociology degree and not only that but three years in campus housing. He’d have to figure out what happened for that final year but William was certain he’d have that figured out by then. After all, he had three whole years to work it out. Plenty of time.

His mood buoyed, he swallowed hard.

“Right,” he murmured. “Let's get moving.”

“Stupid jerk,” William muttered to himself as he wiped the dirty pond water that had been splashed all over his side. “Don't drive so close to the curb.”

Spitting bitter curses under his breath, the man stumbled past another bleary-eyed worker. The pair barely acknowledged one another, with William heading straight for the first and only employee bathroom. Once secure in the small, coffin-like room, he shed his backpack, tucked away his shirt, and donned his uniform.

“Freaking great,” he murmured. “It's wet.”

Shouldering the gross feeling, he put his clothes away, stuffed his bag into the too-small locker he had assigned to him, and headed out. He barely managed to get past the dish pit when a scowling German man with a single eyebrow moved to block his path.

“William, you are late,” he stated, his voice firm yet as high pitch as a thirteen-year-old girl yet to go through puberty.

“By only two min-”

“And your uniform is dirty,” the man proclaimed, plucking the shoulder of William’s shirt and scowling. “That is two demerits. Do you acknowledge this?”

“Yes Klaus,” William muttered.

“Good. Now join Roger on registers and stay there until it's closed. Got it?” Klaus snapped.

“Yes sir,” William all but whispered.

“Excellent now-” he stiffened suddenly and glared at someone behind William. “Brittany? What did I tell you about putting plastic in the dishwasher?”

William instinctively tucked himself against the metal exterior of the walk-in freezer and just in time too, as Klaus brushed past him, heedless to the other workers clinging against the walls. Eager to escape the oddly effeminate, yet towering German manager, William jogged through the cramped kitchen, past the back window, and up to the front.

Already things were swamped, with what little waiting area they had been completely occupied by several long lines. There was a split second where he steeled himself, and prepared to get to work, only for even this small moment to be stolen from him.

“Fuck this, I’m on break,” spat the wide-shouldered, olive-skinned man only six months William’s senior.

The sole remaining cashier looked back at William with a look of terror before glancing at the irate man looming over the now abandoned cash register.

“Get back here you sniveling little worm!” Shouted the barrel-chested man wearing a wife beater and minion pajamas. “You got my order wrong twice already!”

Breathing deeply, William put on his absolutely best and hopefully least fake-looking smile before approaching the man.

“Hello, sir. How can I help you?” William offered.

The sheer kindness in his words must have tripped up the angry male, as for a moment he said nothing. Unfortunately, that passed.

“I am trying to get my fucking meal, but that last nitwit fucked it up two goddamn times!” He shouted, throwing his arms in the air. “And he overcharged me!”

“What is your order, sir?” William pressed.

“It was supposed to be two number ones, a number three, and a small swirl cone with sprinkles,” He bellowed, slamming a fist into the counter. “But then that moron gave me nine fucking chicken sandwiches and a water? Who the fuck-”

“I’ve put your order through. Please wait over there while they bring it out to you,” William interrupted, flashing the angry man a wide smile.

“I uh… okay,” he murmured.

The customer awkwardly sidestepped through the crowd and waited at the receiving window. William meanwhile, took his spot at his own register, unlocked it, and was about to take his first order when he heard the remarkably dainty footsteps of his manager.

“Who sent back another fix request?” Snapped the German.

“I did,” William replied, turning to face the beat red face of his superior. “Roger got this nice man’s order wrong twice in a row.”

“Is this true?” hissed the manager.

The bulbous customer bobbed his meaty head. “Uh yeah. That last fella mucked it up a few times but this guy put it through again.”

“Print him out a gift card,” hissed the German man directly in William’s ear. “And you lot,” he started again, turning back into the kitchen. “Put a rush on that last order!”

William smiled to himself and began to settle into his work day, taking orders, handing out food, and smiling as best as he was able. During this time, he heard what sounded like a muffled German from the back. That wasn't a good sign, and sure enough, Roger returned not long after, a scowl on his face.

He shot a glare at William but otherwise kept to himself. A reaction more unnerving than the stream of insults and slurs that William had been expecting to be on the receiving end of. Even during lunch break, he said nothing, keeping to himself, phone in hand.

When the time came to leave for the night, Roger departed without so much as a look, disappearing into the back of a bright orange sports car. William quickly put the odd male from his mind, and just focused on enjoying the fact that he had survived another grueling day. The work had been unpleasant, about as satisfying as cupcake without icing, and altogether way too long but it was over.

Stepping off the bus, William adjusted the straps on his backpack and looked around. The streets were mostly empty, partially due to the light rain that darkened the already dark roads and sidewalks partially due to the lateness of the hour. Traffic was constant, but none slowed, and no faces peered out at him as he continued his trek homeward.

He half expected to see a bright orange car emerge from the rain and turn in his direction but that had yet to happen. With hope starting to well in his chest, the young man hurried down the road before turning sharply to the right. His small apartment complex wasn't far, but unfortunately for William, he would need to walk through a small, mostly abandoned industrial park.

Empty warehouses, dark offices, and piles of rusting metal dotted either side of the road, the shattered remains of industry hidden behind simple chain link. It was a depressing, lonely walk but one that William had grown uncomfortably used to. So with the straps of his bag held tight, he jogged down the road, putting what little strength he had left into the act of returning home as quickly as possible.

For a moment he thought he was free, thought he was going to end his day without further issue but then he heard it. Distant at first, the roaring engine sounded almost like the roll of far-off thunder. Then the screech of tires as rubber met the road, with water serving as the medium between them.

A glance over his shoulder confirmed his fears. The bright orange car was visible, illuminated by a flash of lightning.

“Shit fuck, fuck, shit,” William muttered.

Sprinting as fast as he could, he poured on the speed, desperate to reach the end of the street before the car could. But compared to a car worth a half million dollars, William and his thrift store shoes were no match. He barely made it more than a dozen feet before the car squealed to a stop in front of him, hopping the curb before coming to a stop.

Turning tail, William ran back the way he came, eying the entrance to a mostly empty lot dotted by the occasional barrel and pile of wood or debris. He had reacted quickly, but this also wasn't a race he was about to win. Exhausted, and not the most in-shape person to begin with, William was easily caught by a trio of masked men.

Thrown against a pile of forgotten pallets moldering in the rain, William fell to his knees and looked up in horror. Sure enough, the one that had laid his hand on him was known to the young man.

“Roger,” William murmured. “What the hell are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking I’m gonna put the fear of god in some punk ass kid who thinks he's better than me,” Roger spat, stepping forward.

“It's not my fault you screwed up,” William shot back.

“Just say the computer fucked up or something you fucking loser! Or just say that other dumb bitch did it,” Roger retorted, throwing an arm out. “But no! You had to blame it all on me when it was really the fault of that ham beast who can barely speak without his neck getting in the way.”

The other two men chuckled under their masks.

“I uh didn't think about that,” William murmured.

“And now I may have to do this whole song and dance over again before my dad will let me leave you douchebags behind and join him at his company,” Roger continued, grabbing William by his shirt and hefting him up. “Do you have any idea how painful it is for me to exist alongside you fucking peasants? It disgusts me.”

“Err, sorry?” William exclaimed awkwardly.

“You better fucking apologize. My father is a fucking billionaire do you know that? He made computers what they are today and that means I have more money than god,” Roger continued, his face scrunching up in rage. “Or at least I would if my dad didn't want me to work along one of your shitty jobs in order to fucking learn something.”

“I-”

“Well, I learned something alright. I learned you brainless peasants don't deserve the fucking pennies we allow you to have!” Roger shouted, slugging William in the breadbasket.

The young man fell to his knees, clutching at his stomach, his foe still looming over him.

“When I’m in charge I’m going to squeeze losers like you until I get blood from a fucking stone,” Roger spat.

A kick sent William sprawling to the ground, face landing in a muddy puddle. William lurched upward, sputtering and spitting, trying to refill his lungs while clearing the grime from his face.

“You look better this way,” Roger began again, circling the crawling man. “On your hands and knees like the animal you always were.”

Another booted foot to the side knocked William into the pile of pallets, his eyes rolling around in their sockets. Forcing himself to focus, he looked up to find that a tower of rotten wood was teetering above them, knocked loose when he slammed into it. With Roger closing in, William had little other option, and with a valiant tug, pulled loose the stack.

He didn't stick around to see if his effort had been successful, but judging from the trio of cries, and one pained yell, it had worked. Already running, William sprinted towards the distant fence, his frantic eyes seeking any hole or opening. His soaked glasses made things difficult, but be it either luck or providence, he found a gap in the chainlink barrier. Barely larger than he was wide, it would be a tight fit but on the other side lay a well-lit street only a block from his house.

“Come on, come on,” he muttered to himself.

Behind him he heard the sound of distant footsteps, ones that were closing in, drawing nearer with each passing second. His distraction had worked, but that hadn't changed the fact that it was three against one, and they were all far more athletic than he was. William merely hoped that it would take them precious extra seconds to maneuver through the dark lot, giving him the time he needed.

He wasn't about to look though, and he took his backpack off as he ran, holding it out in front of him. Then his chance came, the hole was coming in close.

Jumping towards the opening, he slammed into the ground and immediately started to crawl. The impact was painful and jarring, but he had always been shorter than most so he didn't fall far at least. He scrambled into the breech, thrusting his bag through the hole before wiggling through the gap in the fence.

His head passed through, then his torso, hips, and finally- wait. He was caught. Something had grabbed at a belt loop. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw a rusted hook of metal had caught the piece of clothing and was holding fast.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Let go,” he cursed, tugging at the fence.

He almost managed to get it loose when a pair of hands grabbed his ankles and hauled him back through the opening. In desperation, William clawed at the earth, leaving deep muddy trenches in the ground as he was dragged backward.

“Nooo,” he cried.

Another pair of rough hands forced him onto his back, his eyes immediately latching onto the looming figure standing over him. An arm was cradled against his chest, and a scowl dominated his unmasked face.

“You broke my fucking arm,” Roger spat. “Now I’m gonna break every fucking bone in your useless fucking body.”

With a nod, the other two men held William’s arms and legs down, pinning him in place. Weakened by an exhausting day, a less-than-stellar diet, and little true exercise, there was nothing William could do. It was like he was thrashing against iron restraints, as his limbs were held fast against the ground.

Then the blows began to rain down on him. A stomp to the chest made something crack, a kick to the ribs was punctuated by a snapping noise audible even over the now pouring rain. William tried to cry out, to scream, but two sharp impacts to his midsection knocked the wind out of him.

Over and over the kicks kept coming. Bones snapped, ribs broke, and William coughed up thick, chunky blood. He could hear an argument start to break out but Roger didn't stop, and things were starting to grow dark.

Then, a voice.

“Ooooh that looks like one awful way to go,” remarked an amused, whimsical voice.

“G-god?” William croaked.

“Ha! No, I am not nearly as stuck up as that pompous old jerk. Unlike them I have a sense of humour,” the voice replied. “Which is why I am going to help you.”

William heard what was said, but couldn't respond, his head was swimming, and his vision had started to cloud over.

“Just try to be entertaining hmm? Oh, what am I saying? You humans are an absolute barrel of laughs!” The voice proclaimed.

Suddenly William felt as though he were weightless, floating on an endless black sea. A sea which, with no prompting at all, swallowed him whole.

Somewhere far away from the hustle and bustle of humanity, trod the careful hoofsteps of a changeling nurse. Her dark, hole-ridden form crept down the poorly lit stone hallway, her path lit only by the occasional emerald torch burning every dozen feet. The curved, alien walls and organic architecture felt homey to the creature and those she passed by along her way.

Though most she passed walked at a sedentary, unhurried pace, she was jogging fairly quickly, making haste toward the source of the mental alarm. Fear and adrenaline coursed through her, the changeling unable to resist imagining the worst possible situation. Had there been a cave-in? An attack? Or perhaps it was another stillbirth?

She didn't know, but she knew it wouldn't be long before she found out the truth of the matter.

Rounding a corner, she pushed her way through the sphincter-like opening and into the mossy cave beyond. The air was damp, humid even, and the ground was spongy enough to completely silence the sound of her hooves. Here there was no sound, with even the nurse’s somewhat frantic breathing being rendered inaudible by the acoustics of the chamber.

“Oh,” she murmured.

There was no cave in, nor any enemy attack. Things seemed to be as they had been only a few hours ago when she had concluded her duties. That didn't mean nothing was amiss, however, and she scanned the area, using what little magic she had left to check the life signs of the young stored within.

It took a moment for the magic to conclude, but when it did every single egg glowed with a faint bluish energy. They were okay. None had gone still, and every last one of them had at least enough love to last them through the night.

“What does this mean?” She asked the empty room.

Thankfully the mental alarm had fallen silent, lulled asleep by the assurance that nothing was amiss. Or at least that's how it seemed, and the nurse was determined to be sure of this fact.

“One, two, three,” she began, counting each of the eggs present. “Ninety…. Three?”

Stooping low over a small egg she didn't remember spotting, the nurse inspected it closely.

“Where did you come from, hmmm?” she asked.

With a sigh, she stood back up.

“Probably another little accident from the workers,” she thought aloud. “They likely didn't want to face the punishment for an unsanctioned birth.”

The nurse knew that she should immediately crush the egg, and cull the changeling spawn within. It likely hadn't developed far, and the laws surrounding such an instance were clear. Yet, she stayed her hoof and watched as the dull glow of the diagnostics spells left the egg. For a moment she thought she saw a strange symbol not unlike the one to denote the presence of chaos magic but it was gone before she could blink.

With a long sigh, the nurse turned back the way she came.

“The logs will have to be altered,” she thought aloud. “Oh well, no good deed goes unpunished.”

With that, she was gone.

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Growing Up Quick

Reality became a blur for the man once known as William. His consciousness and memories were too great a burden for the underdeveloped changeling’s mind. With only room for base instincts, and the desires present in all creatures to survive, William felt himself drift into a deep, dark slumber.

Strange dreams came to him in waves, visions of an alien world, filled with bug-like creatures that fed upon emotions. His viewpoint may have been above one such creature but he knew that the odd maggot-like creature slithering upon the cold ground was him. Yet he could not move its stubby limbs, or make it croak out even a single sound, his mind pushed back to the fringes of this thing’s mental space.

Forced to watch as it wriggled and squirmed, William was glad that he had no stomach to speak of for it surely would have emptied itself after not too long. He was doubly thankful for this fact whenever the slug child fed upon the thick, paste-like blue substance that was dropped into a troff at the corner of the room. Bellying up to the metal feeding station, the creature gorged itself happily on this strange concoction, nearly falling in on its first attempt.

If William focused he could almost taste the odd mixture of flavors, none of which he had words for. The only thing close he could think of was sweet, though even that was a rough approximation as it definitely contained no sugar or sweetener that he had ever had. More disconcerting than the flavor was the texture, the gruel having the consistency of thick, unchewed jello that slid languidly down his throat.

As time passed, William grew strangely used to these odd feedings, a routine settling in and banishing a bit of the strangeness. Then there was a change, and the odd little creature was moved to a larger room, one with many more like him. There were a few more of the nurses like he had spotted before, but they were outnumbered fifty to one by squirming maggot babies.

The former human could sense fear pass through him, and he instinctively kept to the wall, or close to the nurse he recognized. Older, with greying chitin, and dull eyes, the nurse was easy to pick out amidst the pack. Though he knew not what she said when she spoke to him, William could sense that she meant well enough.

The safety of the nurse’s presence was not constant, however, a fact that William discovered during the first feeding in this larger room. The bigger, fatter grubs hogged more space on the troff, pushing out the smaller creatures and gobbling up more food. The nurses intervened occasionally but by and large, they allowed this to continue despite knowing about it.

William couldn't understand why they did this, and the grub child that he knew to house his consciousness was not exempt from this bullying. A rather large insectoid child with a prominent head ridge that no others had, pushed the smaller grub aside. As he feasted, William watched, and waited, hoping that there would be something left when the larger creatures were done.

Yet when the time came, and they had eaten their fill there were only scraps left at the bottom of the troff. He and those of his stature scrambled at the bottom of the feed container, butting heads and swallowing what little they found. Fouler than the rest, the strange gruel was unpleasant yet he ate all the same, gobbling up whatever minute scraps he could locate.

Time sped up, with William’s mind slipping for what felt like only a moment yet was clearly weeks or even months. The grub that housed his mind had grown, though not by much, and a faint glow emanated from his translucent abdomen. For some reason he knew it was time to construct a new egg, and quickly before the torpor overcame him and he was forced to molt out in the open, risking infection and death.

He wasn't sure why or how he knew these things, these alien facts but he watched as he snuck away from the group and located the warmest spot available. Hidden away in one corner, he didn't know why but it felt like the absolute best place to construct his egg. Safe, and content, he watched as the grub began spitting out chunks of malleable black goo and forming it into the shell.

He didn't get far before he was interrupted, however, as the grub with the bright green head ridge running between his enormous eyes returned. Butting William aside, it took his spot and reared up, raising its tiny limbs as if challenging the other grub.

The former human could feel trepidation, fear, and anxiety flow through him but it quickly turned to quiet resentment. He didn't want this fight, he didn't want to hurt or be hurt and so he gave up. With a shrug, he slunk away, crawling deeper until he found a more secluded area to make his chrysalis.

There it was cold, damp, and cramped but it was at least safe.

After assembling the strange egg-like case, the grub crawled inside and closed up the exit. William wasn't sure what was going to happen, would he perish in there? Asphyxiation seemed likely, or perhaps he would freeze in this cramped little space.

His vision suddenly blurred, and the dreamlike quality of the world suddenly fell away. In the blink of an eye, he was no longer viewing his new body from above like some sort of voyeur. The eyes of the grub were now his own, and he inhabited its body fully rather than being disconnected from it.

He could see light beyond the egg, could taste a strange liquid on his tongue, and hear the thud of his own ragged heartbeat. No sooner had his senses returned to him that he felt panic grip his soul. He couldn't breathe, and not only that but his entire body was trapped within the egg with no room left to move. All the extra space that had been present before was gone, leaving the former human confused and turned around.

Blindly, he flailed in all directions, throwing out his legs in hope of punching a hole. He was successful, but that didn't actually help him as now his leg was stuck half in half out of the egg. His breathing situation had not improved but thankfully in his flailing, he had accidentally headbutted the inside of the cocoon.

That did it, the horn protruding from his forehead stabbing through the interior membrane and the hard exterior shell beyond. Gasping and flailing, he gulped down air, while trying to wriggle free of his goopy bindings. After a bit of aimless struggling he emerged into the world, flat on his back, limbs splayed in all directions and his spittle on his lips.

“I’m… alive?” he muttered to himself.

Standing up was an awkward endeavor, as his logical half wanted to stand on two feet while his instincts told him four was a better choice. In the end, he fell over twice before pushing himself up with all four of his hooves. Standing there, he looked down, his mind putting the pieces together one arduous piece at a time.

“What the hell am- augh,” William muttered, only to grip the side of his head and fall to the floor.

All the instinctual knowledge of his blood forced its way into his mind all at once. He was a changeling, he had been a grub but now he had taken a step towards becoming an adult. It had been nearly a year since he had come to this place, with his growth having been sped up via a love-rich diet of mushroom paste.

He also knew how to feed, knew how to move about in his new body, and fly. He also knew how to summon his magic, to call it to his horn but what to do after that point wasn't known to him. There was still much he needed to learn, much he needed to do but the once human changeling sat there, looking on in horror at the world he had just been birthed into.

He was in the back of a damp, moss-covered cave filled with newly hatched nymphs that had undergone their first molt. They looked like monsters and moved like them too, butting heads, and pushing their way to the row of nurses waiting for them. His old life was over, and now he was in another universe or dimension, or reality, starting over as some orphaned creature he instinctually knew to be a changeling.

It was all too much.

He fell to his knees and cried for his life, cried for his sister, and cried for his lost body. Utterly alone, and without anything that made sense, he let the darkness take him. Sobbing until he was out of breath and tears, he lay on the cool ground, determined to simply let the cold earth take him a second time.

“What's going on back here?” Whispered a voice.

William watched as a large head peered through the narrow gap at the back of the chamber, looking in on him.

“Ahh, there you are. I was wondering where you had gotten off to,” muttered the nurse. “Come on, let's get you out of there.”

Before William had a chance to open his mouth, he found himself being lifted into the air by some strange force. He felt like panicking, kicking his legs and wrenching himself from the nurse’s grasp but something stopped him. That glowing field was faintly warm, slightly motherly, and wrapped around him like a gentle hug.

“There you go,” she murmured, gently depositing him on the ground before her. “I don't know why you chose that cramped spot back there. It might have affected your growth.”

William blinked and looked around to find that yes, it likely had. He was smaller than the other nymphs, with a shorter horn, smaller wings, and fangs that barely poked out from under his lips. It was at this point that he realized the nurse was different from the others of her kind as well.

Where they were short, demure, and looked almost young in a way, she was older, made of firmer stuff. Her body was more well-muscled, she stood taller than them, and her chitinous exoskeleton was slightly greyed.

“Why do you look different?” William couldn't help but ask.

“I got a bum leg,” she replied, waving her right foreleg in emphasis. “Got it after a mine collapse a few years back. Can't dig nearly as well as I used to but I was a mite more gentle than most diggers so they stuck me here with you lot.”

“I’m sorry,” William murmured.

“Don't be,” she dismissed. “I never minded my old job, but this one, well it's right cushy.”

“Thirteen thirty-three, wrap up your duties,” snapped a distant voice.

“Right right,” murmured the nurse, waving a hoof. “Well, you heard her. We best get you moving. Got a lot of learning and whatnot ahead of ya.”

“Is that your name?” William asked in confusion, following after the nurse as she headed for the exit. “That's just a bunch of numbers.”

“Us workers don't get names,” the nurse replied. “But don't you worry about that big number. Just call me Threes, most lings round here do.”

“Except for her,” William pointed out.

“Yeah well. She’s my boss. She ain't supposed to be nice,” Threes dismissed. “Now come on. Quit yer jawing and let's get going. I gotta show you to your room since we missed the boat with the others.”

“Why do you talk differently?” William pressed.

“You sure are an endless barrel a questions. I wonder if you're going to end some kind of inquisitor after your naming ceremony,” Threes remarked.

“I’m sorry,” William murmured.

“Ahh don't be,” Threes dismissed. “But to answer your question it's cus I spent some time on a farm when I was real little. The hive was going through some tough times and had to sneak some nymphs into Equestria. I wasn't there for too long, barely more than a few years but the accent stuck.”

“Hmm,” William muttered.

Together the pair wound their way through a labyrinthian structure of tubes that branched off in all directions. William watched as some changelings climbed onto the ceiling, or walked on the walls, with the flow of changelings shifting around them. Bodies were packed close to one another, with little space to move, but there were no traffic jams, or people bumping into one another, the hive flowed like water.

“Alright, here we are,” the nurse announced, stopping in front of a small translucent green barrier. “You’ll be staying here for a year or so while ya learn, and figure things out.”

“But this is just… Oh,” William murmured, the barrier retracting into the walls like a giant sphincter. “I see.”

“You sure are a strange one. Well little one, try not to crawl into any tight spaces again. I don't know if I’ll be able to dig ya out,” Threes then leaned down, rubbed the top of William’s head, and turned around, walking back the way she came.

“I uh… thank you,” William called.

Threes waved a hoof over her shoulder without turning around, the changeling whistling a strange country-sounding tune that William couldn't identify. It had an odd twang to it and seemed like it should be accompanied by a banjo or acoustic guitar.

“What a strange changeling,” William muttered to himself.

Ducking back into his room, he found that there was little room to move around. Just enough space to sleep, and do light stretching, with there being only a single piece of furniture present. A simple end table barely large enough to hold a single potion filled with green liquid sat against the far wall. Without a stopper or cork, he could smell its contents and knew instinctively that it was filled with liquid love. All it took was that one single sniff to make his stomach rumble and his hooves start moving.

He all but sprinted across the room, his forehooves grabbing the thing and throwing it back before he had a chance to blink. The former human barely even had a chance to recognize the desperate hunger clawing at his stomach before he was chugging the whole of the potion’s contents. Only after it was empty, and his long snake-like tongue was desperately scrambling around inside the position did William realize what he was doing.

Throwing the potion across the room, it crashed against the far wall, exploding into a million little pieces.

“What the fuck came over me?” He muttered, only to sigh. “Right, I’m a changeling now, a love eater.”

He wanted to cry, but for some reason, there were no tears left to shed, and he simply fell to a knee and started to clean up after himself. The shock of it all had begun to wear off, and although he still detested his new form, and all that came with it at least there were some decent people here. It would be hard to survive here, but magic was apparently real, so getting back to his own world was not impossible.

Sure he looked like a freak, but he knew instinctively that changelings could shapeshift. Obviously, he wouldn't be human but he could look human, and all he needed to do was learn magic. After that he’d just need to find his sister, pray to god that time worked differently on earth and he could go back to his old life.

“As if,” he muttered.

From that moment on, things fell into a sort of lull, with William becoming more and more at ease with his new surroundings. He was still miserable, but he had a goal at least, an end game to look forward to and work towards. Survival also became less of a concern, as his meals were regular, or at least semi-regular anyway.

Taking the offered potion of love from the worker, and hastily began scurrying away, making his way out of the crowded cafeteria space. It took moments for a changeling to consume their meals, but it seemed as though even emotivores enjoyed eating amongst their peers. There were no chairs, however, merely short tables, and small cushions made from what looked like molded and treated mushrooms.

They were comfortable, sure but sitting out there was simply not an option. He had been marked as strange somewhere along the lines, with most other changelings avoiding him. What few didn't seemed to be slow, for lack of a better word, their eyes empty, and their movements robotic.

These odd changelings clustered in one corner, saying little and eating in more or less complete silence. Straying near them allowed William to pick up snippets of conversation.

“Defective,” said some.

“Deficient,” said others.

“Destined only for the recycling vats, or the mines,” remarked others.

William didn't like the sound of either of those things and avoided them, and most changelings, like the plague. Instead, he kept his small potion tucked against his chest as he weaved his way out of the room and down the hall. There he waited next to one of the larger, more well-reinforced sphincter doors. He knew that here was where the nurses ate their meal and chatted amongst themselves.

“How are you liking teaching?” Asked an unfamiliar voice.

“It's alright,” murmured the one nurse William knew.

“I bet it's far cushier than your previous job,” pointed out a third voice.

“Oh it is, and I’m endlessly grateful for getting reassigned,” murmured Threes.

“I’m sensing a but in there,” prodded the second voice.

“Well I’m just a might bit confused is all. I thought I’d spend most of my days helpin’ the real little ones, not following ‘em through their whole education,” Threes remarked.

“We won't be following them all the way. Just until the choosing ceremony,” the third voice added.

“I know that, but still,” Threes retorted. “There ain't no new little ones. Just a couple of stragglers who are getting that fancy accelerated growth juice.”

“It's all for the benefit of the queen’s plan,” muttered one of the other nurses.

“I hope she succeeds and after all’s said and done, we can go back to helpin’ the little ones. I sure did enjoy seein’ all their squishy little faces,” Threes remarked with a chuckle.

“On that, we are in agreement,” stated a stiff-sounding voice stated.

William smiled faintly as the nurses all shared a polite laugh amongst themselves. Then, one rose and began walking in the direction of the door, only to be stopped after a few feet.

“I hope you are not going to have your meal with that runt again,” proclaimed the more demanding voice from earlier. “We’ve turned a blind eye to your little rendezvous until now but that may change.”

“Look, the kid just needs a little extra tutorin’, is all,” Threes retorted. “He’s smart, might even end up a researcher or mage after the choosing.”

“That may be but you know the queen’s orders. At this stage of development, we are not to intervene in their lives. It spoils them,” proclaimed the stiff voice.

“I don't understand why the queen would do that. Order us to keep such a hooves-off approach of it all,” Threes muttered.

“Careful laborer, you are edging closer and closer to treason,” warned the voice.

“It just feels wasteful.”

“Wasteful?” Murmured a baffled voice.

“Well think about it. If all it took to boost those nymphs that are lagging is a little push then surely it would be worth doing? Much more efficient than pushing them straight into the recycler and starting all over again,” Threes pointed out.

Though the changeling had attempted to make her voice sound empty, almost robotic, William could tell that she was genuinely concerned and was covering that up by sounding more like her superior.

“I don't think there is much we can do about certain nymphs, however,” muttered another voice. “The increased growth speed has resulted in a few less than desirable spawn.”

“I’m not talking about them,” Threes dismissed. “They are beyond help, but a few others… well they could be made useful to the hive. More useful than gettin’ recycled anyhow.”

“Your argument is a valid one, though orders are orders,” declared the elder changeling after a short pause. “I will not report this for insubordination though I expect you to cease this coddling of that one individual.”

“Yes, head nurse,” murmured Threes, trotting back the way she came.

William didn't want to hear anymore and made a beeline back to his room, a love potion still floating in front of him. He didn't make it far before he reached the next obstacle, however, though this one came not in the form of an older changeling, but rather one his own age. The taller, wider nymph that he had come to recognize as his personal tormentor stood in the doorway, a grin crossing his face.

“Well would you look at what we have here,” he exclaimed. “If it isn't the runt. Do ya think that's gonna end up your name when the time comes?”

“What?” William muttered.

“Ya know when you get your name you moron. Don't tell me you're tiny, as well as stupid,” the bully declared, stepping up to the smaller nymph and looming over him.

“I already have a name-”

“Give it a rest with that weird griffin name,” the other changeling dismissed, snorting derisively. “I don't know where you heard it before but that ain't your name. You have to earn your true name by proving your use to the hive.”

“But I-”

“And give me that bottle of love too,” he demanded. “You are so small you don't need all that anyway.”

“This is mine,” William hissed, pulling the love potion back. “You can't have it.”

“Selfish little grub,” spat the bully.

The larger changeling lurched forward and attempted to grab the bottle out of the air but William was quicker. Leaping to one side, he sprinted past the bully, nearly dropping the bottle as he did so, his magic flickering. He re-established his concentration a moment later, gripping the bottle a little tighter as he continued to run.

“Get back here, worm,” spat the bully as he charged after the other nymph.

“Shit shit shit,” William muttered to himself.

Sprinting down the hall, he took a sharp right and nearly ran into another nymph about his age. A harsh swerve allowed him to slip past the larger creature, narrowly avoiding slamming into him. His pursuer was not quite so nimble, and simply bowled through the other male, knocking him aside with a shoulder slam.

“Out of my way, pipsqueak,” he spat.

William poured on the speed, dodging and weaving around the larger changelings while keeping his grip secured on the bottle. Though he had a shorter gait and wasn't as fast as the nymph chasing him, the former human didn't have to run through every changeling that got in his way. Able to duck through the legs of an adult, or weave around those of his own age, William was able to keep one step ahead of the bully though it was only a single step.

He could hear the other child knocked over adults and kids alike, making a ruckus as multiple changelings voiced their irritation. The bully didn't care and simply kept going, running after William all the way back to the dorms where they both stayed. Here traffic was thinner, and William could hear as the bully regained the ground he had lost to all the obstacles he had run into along the way.

“Come on, come on,” William murmured.

Rounding another corner, he sprinted the rest of the way to his room and jumped inside. Narrowly missing the hoof that had reached out to grab him, William was able to force the sphincter-like opening shut behind him. It had only been by inches, but he had won, and he celebrated by immediately downing the entire potion.

“You witless grub,” shouted the bully from the other side, his hoof slamming into the barrier. “I’ll beat the snot out of you for this, you’ll see!”

William sighed, sitting with his back against the door while the bully gave it a few more angry punches before leaving. Cursing and muttering under his breath, William didn't have any clue what the other changeling had said, but he also didn't want to know.

“No matter where I find myself the one constant in my life is bullies,” William muttered to himself. “It would almost be reassuring if it wasn't so depressing.”

Things returned to the same strange routine as before. He would learn about his new body, be taught how to fly, how to use some very basic spells and a bit about the world he lived. It was obvious that this mysterious queen he kept hearing about was an absolute tyrant. He came to this conclusion after just the first lesson when it was made obvious that there was only a single nugget of truth amidst a great mountain of propaganda.

Everything was everyone else's fault, even when it didn't make sense to blame them for the changeling’s problems. Every teacher that spoke told of how the changeling had never done anything villainous, and that the world constantly conspired against them. Not only were their enemies strong, but they were also prey, and little more than sheep, making them weak at the same time.

William remembered that this dynamic of all foes being both weak and strong was the component of cruel ideologies from his home world. It amped up his fellows who whispered amongst themselves about how they would strike back against their oppressors. The bravado of children was infectious and even William couldn't help but wonder if the world was truly against his new people.

Then he’d shake his head, and brush it aside, determined to reexamine such biases whenever he escaped the hive. A possibility that was incredibly daunting given the fact that he was still a child, and yet to fully develop. There was always the chance that he was allowed to leave due to being chosen as a loving collector, but he knew immediately that was unlikely. He wasn't the least bit charismatic, nor did he show some special aptitude for shapeshifting magic.

Though they had yet to truly begin testing for aptitude, William had begun to worry that he may not excel in anything. Even still, he was not the best at anything, and his growth quickly slowed, allowing even those initially smaller than him to soon tower over him. He hoped that would change with his second and apparently final molt that came nearly a year after the first.

His hopes had dwindled somewhat, but he was determined to cling to what was left, telling himself over and over that anything was possible in this world. He may be a monster, and some time may have passed, but if he could get back home, then there was still a chance of returning to normal. He held onto that hope as tightly as a drowning man clung to a piece of driftwood, thinking only of his sister as he clung to the side of a cave and curled into a tight ball.

Time slowed down, and his mind drifted to a strange, nameless place of darkness. Then, after what felt like both a split second and a short eternity, he awoke once more and pushed against the bindings that held him. This time he knew what to do, and using his horn, he ripped through the exterior casing of what had once been his chitinous flesh.

Emerging into the world once more, his usually tough flesh felt wet, and malleable though it hardened quickly upon being exposed to air. As he lay there, panting, and confused, he looked himself over and found that he was larger, though not by much. His holey, black exterior was the same, but he could feel that his wings were wider, his horn, longer, and the well from which he drew his magic, bigger.

He hadn't grown by leaps and bounds, but at least he wasn't so small that he could walk under an adult. Or at least he sure hoped he wasn't that short anymore, it was bad enough that puberty had done little for him in his last life.

Groaning, he rose into a stand and stumbled around the surprisingly empty room. The vast, yawning cavern felt like it may swallow him now that there were not hundreds of other nymphs present. A few empty exoskeletons still clung to the walls, but that was it, he was once more, a late bloomer.

“Stop dawdling,” spat a voice that William recognized as the head nurse. “Clear out the remaining stillborn and prepare them for reprocessing. We don't have time to waste, the choosing ceremony is only a single short week away.”

“What, really?” murmured the twang-filled voice of Threes. “I thought you said there was more time.”

“Things change,” retorted the head nurse. “The queen’s plan advances and so must our schedule. Do you have a problem with that, laborer?”

“Well no, course not,” Threes replied. “Just feels a might bit cruel is all. I’m sure at least one or two of these fellas is gonna crack any second now.”

“Be that as it may, you have your orders and unless you want to end up recycled yourself I expect you to follow them,” the head nurse exclaimed.

“Yes, of course,” Threes murmured.

“Now, if that's everything. I have many other matters to attend to,” the head nurse proclaimed.

“Oh uh, what about my request? The uh one about tutoring more of the late bloomers,” Threes pressed.

“The week before the ceremony is to be used exclusively for physical training, and screening of any defects that may have arisen,” the head nurse stated, only to sigh. “However, that leaves their evenings free should you see fit to give them a bit of extra assistance.”

“Thank you thank you thank you!” Threes proclaimed. “You have no idea what this means to me.”

“I can imagine, given that you are attempting to squeeze the life out of me,” the head nurse muttered through grit teeth.

“Oh uh, sorry bout that,” Threes murmured ashamedly, depositing the other nurse back to the ground.

“Now. You have an hour before the recycle squad comes to sweep this place. So long as you are gone before they arrive I will consider your work complete,” the head nurse proclaimed, pausing to presumably dust herself off.

“I’ll be gone before they get here. I promise,” Threes stated, her voice tinged with pride.

“See to it that you aren't. Now then, good day to you.”

The head nurse then stomped away without another word. Leaving Threes to release a sigh of relief.

“Thank all the stars in the sky,” she murmured. “I thought for sure I’d have to recycle all these poor fellas myself.”

“I better not dawdle anymore,” William muttered to himself. “I don't want to get recycled.”

The former human took a steadying breath before trotting out into the open and raising a hoof.

“Hey Threes, I-”

Author's Note

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Growing Up Cruel

William dragged himself out of what amounted to a bed and stumbled over to the strange sphincter that was his door. Upon stepping outside, he expected to find the damp, stone halls to be filled with the usual signs of activity. Young nymphs running around, seeking out their usual love rations, participating in some manner of game, or chatting with their peers.

What he found was the exact opposite, with the few other changelings present either being nurses, or zombie-like nymphs stumbling about. Groaning, and struggling, they seemed barely able to walk a straight line and had a glazed expression on their face. Looking a bit closer, William could tell that a lot of them had greyish-brown chitin that had yet to fully harden unlike his own.

Even the bully with the large head crest was lying off to one side, groaning in pain as a nurse attempted to help him. But despite her being a full adult, he was already larger than her, turning the entire interaction into a rather awkward wrestling match. The other changeling was so out of it that even upon meeting William’s eyes, the bully didn't even glare at him, as if merely summoning some manner of ill will was beyond him at the moment.

“Serves you right,” William muttered to himself well after he was out of earshot.

A short jaunt later, the young changeling had acquired his daily allotment of love. By then feeding no longer felt quite so weird, but it left him feeling oddly guilty for reasons he couldn't quite put into words. Brushing that thought aside, he made his way back to his room, mentally preparing himself for a long boring day of wandering around and staring at the wall.

That was until he saw a familiar shape standing outside of his room.

“Threes?” He asked in confusion.

“Oh hey there little one,” Threes greeted, smiling warmly at the other changeling. “Ya sleep well?”

“As well as can be expected,” William dismissed.

“And how's your chitin feeling? Any soft spots?” Threes inquired, looking him up and down.

“No, I’m quite fine thank you,” William once more dismissed, making sure to hide his privates from Three's rather intense inspection.

“Oh good. Most small lings like you don't have to worry about molting sickness anyhow but it ain't completely unheard of,” Threes explained.

“Yes well. I am exceptionally petite,” William murmured bitterly.

“Huh? What's that supposed to mean?” Threes muttered, scratching her head.

“It just means very small. Now is there a reason for this visit?” William pressed.

“Oh uh, I was gonna help ya remember? We were gonna find what you were good at so ya don't end up well… you know,” Threes muttered awkwardly, wincing already.

“Getting recycled,” William finished. “I remember.”

“Right, so are ya ready for that? I figured we’d give shapeshiftin’ a try first,” Threes offered.

“I…” William bit his tongue.

He wanted to blow the other changeling off, to tell her to go away so that he could sulk in peace but he didn't do that. He would need the ability to shapeshift if he was going to get his old life back, and so far he was less than excellent at it. So with the prospect of reacquiring his humanity at least in some limited sense now on the line, he nodded.

“I’m ready,” William proclaimed.

“Good, then come with me. I got a spot you can do your shiftin’ without getting bothered by no one,” Threes stated.

“After you,” William offered, gesturing down the hall.

“This ain't exactly the dojo I was expecting,” William muttered as he looked around.

Though still in a stone cavern, here the walls were unworked and natural. There was no sign of the strange black goo that changelings covered everything with, allowing them to easily climb any surface. Instead, it was just a wide open space with a ceiling that was several stories above him. Standing in the center of the tennis court-sized cavern was what he assumed was an ancient stalagmite with a wide flat top. Wide enough to accommodate himself, Threes, and plenty of space to move around, it looked like the type of place where the protagonist and antagonist would have a dramatic duel.

“Do what now?” Threes murmured.

“It's… nevermind. Don't worry about it,” William dismissed.

“Anywho,” Threes began again. “I remember when I took the infiltrating course way back when and though not all of it stuck in this old skull of mine I do recall being tested on three things.”

Threes began to pace back and forth in front of the other changeling.

“One. You must be able to quickly slap on a disguise when the time comes and- go!” Threes shouted, pointing at him.

“What?” William muttered.

“Put a disguise on, you’ve been spotted and need to blend in with the ponies!” Threes exclaimed.

“I’ve never even seen what a pony looks like,” William deadpanned.

“Now what do you mean you ain't never seen a pony before,” Threes spat in a mixture of shock and confusion.

“I’m pretty sure that's a double negative but whatever. I meant what I said,” William pressed. “Changelings apparently haven't figured out how to make paper yet so it's not like I could even see a drawing of one.”

“We have so made paper we just don't use it much since it ain't easy to make,” Threes murmured defensively.

“Well, my point stands. I don't know know what a pony looks like,” William proclaimed.

“Okay,” Threes sighed. “I don't know what in the heck those teachers of yours have been doing til now, but I’ll show ya what they look like.”

After a moment of concentration, Threes was bathed in emerald fire, emerging out the other side as a brightly colored miniature horse. Stranger still, she still had the same baffling proportions as changelings did, with huge eyes, and the same massive head. The only difference was now she had offensively green fur, a yellow mane that dangled past her barrel, bright orange irises, and an image of three apples that had been eaten down to their cores on her flanks.

“They look like this, well some of them do anyhow,” Threes exclaimed. “Some have horns, and others got fancy wings with feathers and whatnot.”

“But not both,” William half asked half stated.

“There's only one pony that's got both, and that's princess Celestia,” Threes continued. “So uh try not to accidentally do both. You don't want to get confused as some kinda lost alicorn. They are mighty suspicious of that kinda thing.”

“Noted,” William declared.

“Right, so now you do it,” Threes offered, shedding her disguise and returning to normal.

“Give me a moment,” William murmured.

Lighting his horn, the young changeling concentrated, picturing his disguise in his mind before releasing the magic. With a flash, and a cascade of emerald fire, his changeling form disappeared and was replaced by a new one.

“That's uh… not what I had in mind,” Threes muttered.

“I don't understand. I did as you asked,” William retorted.

“You ain't supposed to just do the same disguise I did,” Threes exclaimed.

“What? It's not the same. See I made the hair shorter, and I am male,” William shot back, sticking his chin out and showing that yes, his mane was indeed shorter, with the ponytail only going down to his neck.

“That's male? I er…” Threes shook her head. “Look, never you mind about all that. Let's just switch to the next area they are gonna be testing for.”

“Alright then,” William offered, shedding the disguise and noting that he had a brief moment of vertigo as he returned to his normal stature.

“Right so next is uh…” Threes paused and tapped her chin. “Adaptability! Switch from between a bunch of different disguises real quick.”

“But I only have the one,” William deadpanned.

“Dangit that's right. Okay, last one. Charm,” Threes stated.

“Woah, that's not… I’m doing that especially not with you,” William hastily proclaimed.

“What's got yer knickers in a twist? I’m just saying you should practice your charm,” Threes muttered in confusion.

“You’re very nice, and I consider you a friend, but I am uh… gay,” William murmured.

“What does… Oh!” Threes erupted with laughter. “Nah that ain't the kinda charm I’m thinking of.”

“Then what exactly did you have in mind?” Willia muttered, the former human trying and failing to stop himself from blushing any harder than he already was.

“Look. I’m a say… Apple merchant and I got my stand set up in the spot that y'all need for whatever reason. Convince me to leave,” Threes stated.

“Oh uh okay… hmm,” William murmured, rubbing his chin. “I think I got one.”

The young nymph cleared his throat and stood a little taller.

“Good afternoon ma’am. I am from the local-” William began only to be caught off when Threes suddenly screamed.

“What is that, a changeling! Help, guards!” She shouted over her shoulder as if calling for someone just out of sight.

“I uh… right,” William murmured, donning the same disguise as last time. “Better?”

“Well hey there cousin. What are you doing around these parts?” Threes proclaimed with a smile.

“Huh? I’m not your cousin,” William muttered.

“Well, you sure do look like her. Got the same cutie mark and everythin’,” Threes pointed out, gesturing to his backside.

“That's not… augh whatever. I give up,” William spat, shedding his disguise once more.

“Come on now, don't give up that fast,” Threes encouraged. “Yer a smart lil fella. I’m sure you could figure something out.”

“No. I’m done with this bullshit. I don't know enough about ponies to make a convincing disguise, nor do I have any idea what kinda social norms they have either,” William retorted, trotting off the stalagmite and gliding away.

“Aww but…” Threes sighed and threw up her forehooves. “Come on, at least try.”

William lay on the ground, his body aching and his mind whirling. The day he had was not an especially brutal one, with the majority of his time occupied with stretching, and light activity. However, it was the sheer number of activities that had reduced him to the current state he now found himself in.

After testing his newfound, and admittedly impressive, flexibility, they had moved on to pushing his magic as hard as it could go. Brute force channeling was a deeply unpleasant experience, with his horn burning hot even hours later. Worse still, they had concluded the day by having several strength challenges and finally an endurance flight test.

The result was a changeling who was completely and utterly exhausted. His wings felt thin and brittle, his horn pulsed with agony, and nearly every muscle he had ached intensely. There was no escape from the general feeling of pain and discomfort that encompassed his being.

“I didn't even get a name,” William murmured. “Not like I need one.”

He couldn't help but think back on that moment when one of his classmates suddenly had a striking realization. It had come immediately after they had finally given in and quit the brute channeling exercise. The last to tap out, she was clearly the most magically endowed of their age group. Taking up the name Arista, this name had been acknowledged by the observing teacher and thus she was no longer a nameless changeling.

He wasn't sure how this worked, or if it could be faked, it seemed like a magic thing. There was a brief flash of emerald light that emanated from within the changeling, but that had been it. He considered replicating the event in an effort to receive favorable treatment but decided against it. The backlash should he be found out would immediately make it not worth the effort.

Still, he contemplated the event in greater detail, wondering about the mechanics of it all. Only for his thoughts to be interrupted by a knock at the door, or knock on the wall next to the door to be more precise.

“What!” William groaned.

“It's me, Threes!” Shouted a familiar feminine voice. “I thought we could go give the whole career test another shot!”

“Right, she had something planned for every day,” William murmured to himself. “But I really don't wanna get up.”

“This won't be too terribly draining, I promise!” Threes yelled as if reading his mind.

“I’m up. I’m up,” William muttered, rolling over and awkwardly trundling over to the door, waving it open. “Now what exactly did you have in mind?”

“Just follow me. I got everything set up in a small out-of-the-way spot in the upper mining level,” Threes replied.

“Fine. Lead the way,” William exhaled.

“It is really empty down here,” William murmured, glancing down another long hallway occupied only by the odd faintly glowing spot of moss, or a few discarded tools. “Why is no one mining?”

“We got all the easy-to-grab ores,” Threes explained, a dour expression crossing her usually sunny face. “The rest of us diggers got reassigned, or recycled.”

The word recycled stuck firmly in William’s mind, reminding him of the price of failure. If he didn't find something he excelled at then that was it, and he was dead.

He wasn't sure if he could come back a second time, and he sure didn't want to find out.

With that grim thought in mind, he followed Threes a little closer, shying away from the deep shadows that followed after them.

“Don't you worry none. We’ll find something you're good at don't you worry,” Threes dismissed.

“But what would you even test for down here?” William asked.

“Why diggin' of course!” Threes proclaimed, stepping aside to reveal a mineshaft in the midst of excavation.

“I thought you said all the diggers got reassigned or killed,” William pointed out.

“Oh, they weren't killed they just uh… rejoined the first mother, and now await their chance to live once again,” Threes explained, her smile becoming artificial and strained.

“Yeah uh huh,” William muttered while rolling his eyes.

“Look all I’m trying to do is set ya up with somethin’,” Threes retorted. “Only a few of us diggers got recycled, most got put elsewhere which is a darn sight better than the alternative.”

“Okay, you convinced me,” William declared. “Though I got a feeling I won't be getting anywhere. Especially after the day I’ve had.”

“Don't you worry none. If you got the talent for it then no amount of strain is gonna stop you,” Threes declared, slapping William lightly across the back. “Now get on it little doggy. We can't stay down here forever.”

William hid his blush and muttered bitterly under his breath. He wasn't opposed to such treatment, but definitely not from her anyway.

“Right, where to start?” He murmured to himself.

Glancing around, he was able to locate a boulder just larger than he was. The mostly round object was the most in the way of the various rocks, indicating that it was the first foe he must fall. Though a bit confused about how he’d get it out of the way, he walked over to it and began to inspect the grey mass.

“So,” William began while still thinking. “If someone doesn't get a name, what happens?”

“You get a number like me, and then usually assigned a job most changelings don't really enjoy. Digger, maintenance, custodial, that kinda thing,” Threes replied, only to pause. “Well, at least that's how it used to be. I don't really know how things are gonna go, what with the queen’s newest plan.”

“Hmmm,” William hummed to himself.

Climbing onto the back of the rock, he wedged himself between the wall and his target. Using the whole of his body, he attempted to unstick the boulder by pushing it with his back hooves. He used all of his strength, straining to call upon any last bit of himself not already exhausted from today’s activities.

“Come on, come on come on!” He cursed to himself, muscles straining.

For a split second, he could have sworn he felt it move, but then nothing. All at once his body went limp, like a puppet with its strings cut, and he collapsed, lying sprawled out atop the rock.

“This. Is. So. Heavy,” he whined between breaths.

“That ain't the only job. There's still the tools, the winch, and all sorts of stuff. Give it a try!” Threes proclaimed.

“Just… in a second,” William took a deep breath and clambered off the rock. “Right, what next?”

William lay on his back, limbs splayed in all directions, chest heaving as he desperately refilled his lungs.

“You gave it your all?” Threes asked, her face looming over the downed changeling.

William wanted to retort with something bitter, angry, and biting but he didn't have the strength left in him to do even that.

“Yes,” he simply wheezed.

“Huh. Well then. It looks like diggin ain't in your future,” Threes remarked.

William groaned.

Once more, William was lying on the cold hard ground, limbs aching and muscles twitching in agony from overuse. This time he had spent most of his day doing one activity and one activity alone, running. Hours upon hours of doing nothing but jogging, sprinting, or doing the dreaded test of beeps, was mind-numbing and agonizing.

Coming in last in nearly every race, he had become the nexus of a considerable amount of ridicule. Some of the adults present hurled insults, as did his fellow nymphs, though most were too exhausted to care by the end of it. Even the male with the large head crest had run out of steam after the halfway point, merely glaring at William whenever their eyes met.

“I hate this place so much,” William murmured to himself.

The dull thump of Three’s hoof startled William from his revere and made him groan in irritation.

“Come in!” He shouted.

The door opened, and Threes popped her head inside.

“Oh hey there little fella. Hard day?” Threes asked, already wincing.

“You have no idea,” WIlliam muttered bitterly.

“Pretty sure I do,” Threes proclaimed, stopping and looking down on the inert changeling. “Your whole upbringing may have been faster than most, but everyone goes through hell week.”

“Right, so-” William began, pausing to awkwardly clamber into an awkward, slightly swaying stand. “What's on the docket this time?”

“Stealth,” Threes stated proudly. “I was thinking we could test out your weapons skills but that ain't probably the best idea given how tuckered ya are.”

“I can barely lift my hooves,” William declared.

“No worries kiddo. I’ll carry ya there,” Threes replied.

William then found himself lifted unceremoniously from the ground, and deposited upon the larger changeling’s back.

“Ya’llright back there?” Threes asked.

“Fine, just try not to jostle me around. I don't know if I’ll be able to get up a second time,” William muttered.

“Okay so… explain this again,” William muttered.

Threes sighed and turned back around.

“First you try to sneak up on me and I’ll be well… me,” Threes declared, gesturing to herself. “Then, y'all gotta sneak up to me and I’ll pretend to be a pony.”

“Uh huh,” William murmured, glancing down the large open area that had once been a mustering point of some kind.

The room’s features had been cleared away at some point, leaving behind only grey, featureless walls. The ceiling was tall, topping out at just over two stories, while the ground looked normal at first glance only upon closer inspection revealed that it was slanted and uneven. There seemed to have been some kind of seismological event at some point which had caused the entire area to become structurally unsound.

“But what's the difference?” William asked.

“Well for one. Changelings can sense emotions,” Threes replied, tapping the side of her head. “So ya gotta deal with that.”

“You want me to just… stop feeling things?” William muttered in confusion.

“Well yeah. Everyling knows how to do that. It's like a survival instinct so we don't spend all our leave feeling stuff as intensely as them ponyfolk do,” Threes stated.

“I…” William shook his head. “I’ll give it a shot.”

“That's the spirit,” Threes proclaimed, turning back around. “Now, once you step past that there line I’ll start judging ya.”

“And if you are able to sense my presence I must start again,” William concluded.

“Exactly!” Threes declared.

William sighed.

Focusing himself inward, the former human did what he could to stop himself from feeling anything. Emptying his mind, he breathed in and out for nearly a minute before finally taking a single step forward. After Threes didn't move, he took a second, then a third, his confidence soaring with every inch he gained.

“Got you,” Threes declared.

“What? How!” William proclaimed.

“I could smell it,” Threes replied, tapping her nose. “Positive emotions, mostly confidence as well as relief.”

“I… but…” William muttered only to sigh. “Whatever.”

“Don't overthink it. You can do it,” Threes encouraged without turning around.

Snorting bitterly, William stood there, fighting angrily against his own anger. After nearly a minute, he was finally able to relax and let go of his negative emotions. It took a bit longer for him to completely get his head in the game, but after several minutes of silence, he stepped forward.

“Stop,” interrupted Threes. “Negative emotions. Resentment, anger, and a bit of guilt.”

“This is impossible!” William shouted, throwing his forehooves in the air.

“What, no it ain't,” Threes retorted, turning around. “I’ll prove it. You turn around.”

William grumbled but did as he was asked and stared down the long hall leading out of this particular section of the hive. Raising his nose, he focused on his new senses, straining to detect any hint of emotion from behind him. Only to find that there was nothing, and no one around, just the faint musty scent of dust and stone.

He couldn't even hear the sound of Three’s hooves, just the sound of some distant liquid dripping onto the stone floor. He was about to turn around and ask when she was going to start only for a hoof to touch his shoulder.

“Ahhh what the hell!” William shouted, leaping into the air and raising his forehooves.

“We were practicin’ sneaking. Remember?” Threes muttered in confusion.

“How did you do that?” William exclaimed.

“I stopped feelin’ stuff,” Threes replied with a shrug. “It's an instinct we all got. Helps us fight other changelings and generally just be real sneaky like.”

“Okay, this is stupid. I give up,” William proclaimed.

“Wait, don't just quit,” Threes interrupted, grabbing him by the shoulder. “Don't ya remember what's gonna happen if we don't find out what you're good at?”

“I’m going to be murdered by the hive. I remember,” William retorted. “But unfortunately for the psychopaths who run this place, I know what I’m good at.”

“Huh? Then what is it?” Threes asked.

“I am good at conflict management. I am an empathetic person, and I am generally pretty good at de-escalating issues before they turn to violence,” William declared.

“No, you ain't. A person that is. You’re a changeling,” Threes pointed out.

“I hate this place,” William muttered while walking away.

“Hey, are we still gonna try again tomorrow?” Threes shouted after him.

“Of course we are. I’m frustrated, not stupid,” William retorted.

“Coulda fooled me,” Threes murmured.

Author's Note

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Growing Up Useless

By then William was used to lying on the floor, groaning in pain. There was a slight difference on that fourth day, however, as he was on his back, staring up at the ceiling.

His horn didn't ache, most of his muscles were fine, and he wasn't feeling the strain of extended use of his empathetic senses. His wings however, were on fire. The tiny, paper-thin appendages burned so intently inside their protective casings that it felt like they had been doused in gasoline.

“At least they didn't fall off,” William murmured. “Unlike that poor girl with the big horn.”

He was once more distracted by the sound of hooves, though this time he was able to detect the approaching changeling before she even got close to his door. For a moment he considered telling her to fuck off, or at least to leave him alone for so much as a single day. Then that anger, that resentment, passed and he took a deep, steadying breath, banishing the foul mood that had threatened to cover him.

“Come in!” He called before she even had a chance to knock on the door.

Sure enough, the sphincter-like opening parted to reveal the nervously smiling face of Threes.

“Well hey there little guy,” she greeted, stepping inside. “I see our empathy training helped.”

“I just heard you. I still can't pick up emotions worth a darn. Plus I got my head on the ground,” William replied.

“Well still. Maybe that might help ya,” Threes optimistically exclaimed. “Lings with sharp senses are always needed for the scouts.”

“Hmm,” William murmured, rolling onto his back and looking up at the large female. “So what did you have in mind for today?”

“I don't want to ruin the surprise, but I took what you said yesterday to heart and decided to change things up,” Threes declared. “I think you’re really gonna excel at what I had in mind.”

“Alright. Lead the way I guess,” William exclaimed.

William looked down at the wooden pole laying on the ground in front of him, and then up to the changeling standing across from them. Around them were the abandoned barracks they had practiced in once before, its halls just as empty as they had been last time. The only change had been that they now faced one another, with Threes holding her rod out with a forehoof.

“Well don't just look at it, come on now,” Threes encouraged.

“How does this have anything to do with me being empathetic and good at conflict de-escalation,” William retorted.

“The best fighters in the hive are also the most empathetic ones around,” Threes began. “They got real good sniffers. So good that they can never get snuck up on, and they always know what's comin'.”

“How does being able to taste emotions really well have anything to do with fighting?” William pressed, picking up the wooden pole.

“Think about it,” Threes began, jabbing the air with her weapon. “If I do that I don't feel no sense of victory or any kind of thrill but if I attack someone I don't like, I’d feel those things.”

“That makes some kind of sense,” William muttered, sniffing the air and detecting only trace amounts of emotion. He still couldn't identify something as granular as the thrill of victory as it was the same as any other eruption of positive emotion. It felt almost like emotion was a language all its own, and he was barely able to ask the time, or where the nearest bathroom was located.

“Right, so attack me. Maybe you’re a fighter after all,” Threes pressed on.

“I still don't think this is a good idea, but I guess I should learn how to fight,” William remarked, even though he knew that things would end poorly, likely with him getting his butt kicked.

“Come on then, take a swing,” Threes encouraged.

“Here goes,” William whispered to himself, raising his weapon into the air.

“Surely that ain't all you got,” Threes exclaimed, trotting up to a panting William lying out of breath on the ground. “We’ve barely been down here for more than an hour.”

“And I’ve spent…” William paused to catch his breath. “Nearly half that time exhausted.”

“Look I know you’re a bit on the small side and you ain't quite as strong as you’re brothers and sisters but-” Threes began.

“They are no siblings of mine,” William interrupted, spitting in disgust. “They merely the creatures that spawned alongside me.”

Threes sighed. “That ain't a very nice thing to say Little One,” Threes stated, shaking her head. “We don't get to choose our family, and like it or not they are your family.”

“Family members don't mercilessly bully each other for fun,” William retorted, pushing way back up into an awkward, shaky stand. “They don't ignore their cries for help, and they sure as shit don't kill them in order to get back the tiny shred of love it took to make them.”

“It ain't murder, it's just… recycling,” Threes replied.

“It's murder and you know it,” William accused. “Unless all those poor innocent children you pushed into the furnace came out the other side just fine and dandy then what you're doing is killing.”

“Hey, I don't make the rules around here mister,” Threes exclaimed.

“You’re right. You just forcibly uphold them, and through tacit admission grant them power not only over yourself but over others,” William concluded, turning around. “We’re done here.”

“Now hold on young ling,” Threes shouted. “There are still more things we could try.”

But William was already gone.

“Sun and stars,” Threes cursed, kicking a loose rock. “That fella ain't gonna make it at this rate.”

“I hate this place, I hate this place, I hate this place,” William muttered to himself.

The changeling limped down the long passage that ultimately led to his room as well as the rooms of the others being trained alongside him. Like him, they were exhausted from a long day, their muscles aching, and their chitinous bodies sporting new, and ugly bruises. William wasn't an exception either, with the former human heavily favoring his right side due to the beating he had taken earlier that day.

“Nice to know my chitin is so tough,” William murmured. “Though a fat load of good that’s gonna do when they end up killing me anyway.”

Grumbling bitterly under his breath, William barely even noticed that there was someone already waiting for him at the door to his room. He recognized her immediately, gasping in shocked surprise the moment his eyes met hers.

“Threes?” He gaped.

“That is my name. Well, my nickname but y'all know what I mean,” Threes replied.

“I thought you were gonna give up after yesterday,” William answered.

“Look I’ve been thinkin' about what you said and well, ya ain't wrong but this is the world we live in,” Threes proclaimed firmly. “Ain't nothing we can do about that, so best we find at least something you can do.”

“It's hopeless,” William exclaimed. “I’m not the psycho killer this queen of ours wants. I’m small, I’m weak and I don't have an aptitude for anything combat-related.”

“I know!” Threes replied with a grin.

“But… what could you have in mind then?” William muttered in confusion.

“It's… look, it's hard to explain just fall in behind me and I’ll show ya what I was thinkin’,” Threes stated confidently.

“Well, alright I guess,” William blubbered.

“Great. You’ll see I got a great idea this time,” Threes proclaimed before trotting away.

William fell in behind the female, a frown creasing his face. He didn't expect to see her again, especially so soon. He still feared getting recycled, but what else was there for him to do other than to serve as a soldier in the queen’s army? Every other position in the hive was apparently getting either suspended indefinitely or repurposed into a combat role.

“Maybe there is something I can do,” William thought aloud.

“Hold on, say that again,” William murmured, gesturing to Threes.

“Say which part again?” Threes muttered in confusion.

“All of it,” William stated.

Threes rolled her eyes.

“You see those there beetles, don'tcha?” Threes began, pointing to a nearby wall.

William peered a little closer at the chitinous mass that covered nearly every stone surface in the hive. Down here, in the ill-used sections it was patchy, bearing large holes that exposed the stone beneath. The culprit was apparently the hoof-sized round beetle with a glassy green and black back that to the untrained eye appeared to be a small rock. It was only when it began to move, revealing its many small legs that its true nature was revealed, and the odd questions of what it was doing there were asked.

“Okay so… I see it,” William offered.

“Well that their critter eats love. Well, not love directly, but stuff with love in it,” Threes pressed on.

“That's where you lose me. You’re saying that they do not consume emotions like we do then?” William asked.

“Exactly,” Threes stated. “We use a little bit of love to make wax, and well, most things really. Everythin’ from garbage cans to pipes, to doors. It's all got at least a little love in it.”

“Which is what these things eat,” William picked up.

“You’re two for two,” Threes proclaimed.

“Okay, and why don't you just kill them?” William exclaimed, gesturing to the bug as it skittered around around, chewing silently on the walls.

“Cus its got love in it, of course,” Threes answered.

“Which means you want to recycle it,” William continued. “So is there some kind of strategy to this? Do we scare them into a corner? Maybe a net?”

“What? Nah. None of that fancy stuff. You just sneak up from straight behind it and grab it,” Threes declared. “I’ll show you.”

William didn't need to say anything, he just sat and watched as the other changeling crouched down like a cat. She then began to crawl forward until she was directly behind the beetle, with only a few feet between them. After a moment of focus, where her eyes narrowed, she leaped forward and grabbed the thing on either side.

Its mandibles clicked together, and it let out a screech, but despite its rage, it couldn't do anything. Its legs didn't bend far enough back, and Threes had enough of a hold on it that it couldn't slip out of her grasp. It continued to try, however, and even struggled enough to nearly slip from Threes hooves but she was able to maintain her grip.

“Wiggly little buggers,” Threes declared.

“I can see that. What now? You put them in a sack or something?” William asked, glancing around.

“Nah. Nothin' fancy like that. You just gotta bash 'em against a rock,” Threes declared. “Like… this!”

With a sudden lurch, Threes brought the beetle down against a large stone, causing something in the beetle to crunch. It wiggled its limbs for a second or two before its legs retracted against its stomach, the entire insect going completely still.

“And there ya go,” Threes proclaimed, tossing the beetle onto the ground. “Just put all the ones you catch in a pile, and I’ll come pick them up.”

“That's so cruel though,” William muttered.

“Look, darlin’ I know these things look kinda cute, but they really ain't,” Threes began, placing a hoof on William’s shoulder. “If given the chance these awful things will eat your eyeballs, then climb up into your brain and nibble on the part of you that converts emotion into love.”

“That's… dark,” William murmured, glancing down at the dead insect in a new light.

“Besides. Even if they didn't do that they still break down the hive bit by bit, causing cave-ins and who knows what else. You’d be doing everyling a big favor if you got rid of them,” Threes continued, squeezing William’s shoulder before releasing it. “Think you can do that?”

“I’ll give it a shot,” William stated.

“Good!” Threes declared. “Now then, I’ll be back right before light’s out. I’d say if you manage to get about a dozen or so you’d be a shoo-in to join the beetle hunters. It ain't glamorous work, but they don't get reassigned, not now not ever.”

“Well alright. I can do that!” William replied.

“I’ll see you in a few hours then,” Threes added.

“See ya then,” William offered, giving the departing Threes a wave.

“What in tarnation happened here?” Threes exclaimed, scratching her head. “You done look like you rolled around in the sewer.”

William groaned, raising a green, goop-covered hoof in the air.

“And I don't even see any busted-up beetles either,” Threes added. “What happened to all that confidence?”

“I uh… well you know how I ain't exactly the sneakiest, right?” William began, the former human not even attempting to stand back up.

“Yeah. I remember,” Threes replied.

“I couldn't really sneak up on these guys either, so I tried a bunch of stuff and eventually I was able to grab one,” William continued.

“Well alright then. Good job,” Threes exclaimed, picking William up and placing him back on his own four hooves. “Where'd it go then?”

“All over me,” William answered.

“Huh,” Threes gaped.

“I wasn't strong enough to kill it but I could at least stun it so I grabbed the biggest rock I could find and used that,” William began.

“Which killed it,” Threes presumed.

“No. That still wasn't enough,” William murmured.

“Okay, so what happened then?” Threes pressed.

“I put the beetle down at the bottom and rolled a rock down the shaft,” William explained, gesturing to his left, where the tunnel rose sloped upward for a fair distance. He then pointed down to where a gore-covered boulder rested against the wall. “It worked but I uh may have overdone it a bit.”

“Well at least you uh… got one,” Threes muttered, scratching her head.

“Do you think that would be enough to get into the bug hunter thing?” William asked.

Three winced and looked away.

“I didn't think so,” William sighed. “Same time tomorrow?”

“Yeah I’ll… I’ll think of something,” Threes awkwardly declared. “Hopefully.”

William blinked rapidly, clearing his eyes of the gunk that had gathered there.

“Bwuh?” He muttered.

The knock returned, louder this time.

“Right, testing. Ow,” William murmured to himself.

With a hoof clutched against the side of his aching head, he stumbled towards the door. The fleshy orifice parted, revealing a grinning Threes standing in the hall.

“Well hey there little one,” Threes greeted. “How’s the day been?”

“Brutal,” William replied, slowly massaging one of his aching temples. “I feel like someone’s been hitting me in the head with a hammer for the last two hours.”

“Magic day huh?” Threes exclaimed. “Yeah that was my worst day too. Could barely hold a beam for more than a few seconds. The trainer really tanned my hide that day.”

“Yeah, so why don't you keep your voice down a bit huh? Just being awake is painful enough already,” William retorted, waving a hoof over his head.

“Right, well this won't take long,” Threes declared.

The worker-turned-nurse then pushed past the young male, making her way into the small domicile. The moment she reached the small table, she pulled the small set of saddle bags from her back and placed them on the ground.

“So uh... What's today?” William asked, glancing over the other changeling’s shoulder. “Some kind of writing test or something?”

“Precisely!” Threes declared. “Scribes are always in short supply and not only are they exempt from military service but they even have fancy privileges that most of us don't.”

“Like what?” William pressed.

“Like a full room, breeding rights, a wage. Tons of stuff!” Threes replied.

The bulkier changeling stepped to the side revealing several ratty pieces of paper, a half-broken quill, and an ink pot with only a small puddle of black inside of it.

“Okay, so what do you want me to write?” William inquired, eagerly stepping up to the small table and grabbing the writing utensil in his hoof.

“Just whatever,” Threes answered, shrugging. “There ain't many of us lings that can write good so it doesn't really matter what ya do.”

“Easy,” William declared.

With confidence surging in his chest, William wrote out a quick letter thanking the queen for accepting him as a scribe. Signing his name, William stepped to the side and bathed in a feeling of relief. With a smile on his face, he gestured to the piece of paper.

“Go ahead. Read it,” he offered.

“Okay, sure. Just uh…” Threes paused and squinted. “What are these squiggly lines supposed to be?”

“They are words. Don't tell me you can't read,” William replied, confused and worried in equal measure.

“Oh, I can read chitterspeak real good. I can't write worth a darn though but that don't matter here,” Threes murmured, turning the paper sideways and then back again. “Is it a code?”

“Its…” William paused, only now aware that he had written the entire thing in English.

He had assumed that since every word ever spoken to him since his rebirth had sounded like English that this would be the same. Yet when he focused and really thought about it, there were small differences in his speech. A child naturally picked up the first language spoken near it, and this was apparently no different. He had not seen a single written word in his entire time as a changeling, just strange symbols that he assumed were pictograms like the ones you saw on the entrance to a bathroom that told you which gender was allowed within.

“You really don't know how to read this?” William asked hesitantly, his nervousness growing.

“Nope,” Threes declared. “Just looks like chicken pecking to me.”

“I…” William sighed. “I don't know how to write your language.”

“Your language? It's our language ya silly grub,” Threes teased, punching him lightly in the shoulder. “I don't know where you picked up this whatever this is, but it ain't chitterspeak. Kinda looks like Equish though. They use those silly-looking letters.”

William sighed and rubbed his hoof against his forehead. “I can't believe I would be that stupid.”

“Hey now little one. You don't know how to write so good but your penmanship is great. Better than mine anyhow,” Threes proclaimed.

“Would that be enough to earn my place in the scribes?” William pressed.

“I uh… do you think you could maybe learn chitterspeak in a day and a half?” Threes replied.

“No,” William deadpanned.

“Then I don't really think so. No,” Threes exclaimed, shrugging in sympathy. “Sorry about that Little One. I really thought this would be it.”

“It... it was a good idea,” William replied, smiling faintly. “The best so far anyhow.”

“Oh, that reminds me. Tomorrow I was gonna test your magic,” Threes declared, clopping her hoof against the ground in an approximation of snapping one’s fingers.

“They already ruled me out of the mage program, don't waste your time,” William dismissed.

“They ruled you outta the war mages but not them fancy scholar fellas,” Threes corrected.

“And the difference is… what?” William exclaimed.

“The war mages get graded on output but scholars gotta learn fancy spells and stuff,” Threes answered. “You’re a smart cookie, I bet you could figure out all kinda of powerful spells if you put your mind to it.”

“Is there a like a book or something I could read? Cus something tells me you guys don't have much paper. What with that scrap of paper being the only one of its kind I’ve seen in this life,” William added, gesturing to Three’s bags.

“Err yeah,” Threes murmured, scratching the back of her hoof. “I uh borrowed a few tomes from a friend who works in the library. I could only get ‘em for a single evening though so we’re gonna have to move quick.”

“You didn't steal them did you?” William pressed.

“No! No,” Threes hastily added. “Just uh… how do I put this? Borrowed them without her knowing.”

“I… thank you Threes,” William proclaimed.

“Look just don't go talking about this okay? I don't want neither of us to get in trouble,” Threes stressed.

“You are literally the only other creature I talk to,” William deadpanned.

“Good… good,” Threes repeated half under her breath. “Let's call it here for today then, okay?”

“Sure thing. Oh and Threes,” William began, stepping forward and pulling the other changeling into a light hug. “Thank you. I really appreciate this. Truly.”

“Hey don't worry about it Little One. I’m just doing my job as a nurse ya know? Can't flunk out another job or else we’ll be in the same boat ya know?” Threes offered.

William hummed softly to himself before patting her on the back. They parted a moment later, with William taking a step away from the female.

“Goodnight Threes,” William exclaimed with a smile.

“You too Little One,” Threes replied, giving the male a nod before turning away.

William watched as the female departed, her familiar country tune echoing off the distant walls of the hive.

“At least there's one person I can count on,” William muttered to himself. “Too bad it ain't gonna mean squat.”

William wandered the halls aimlessly, unsure of what to do or where to go. Around him, the other changelings his age were relaxing, playing games with small rocks, or chatting amongst themselves. Of those conversations he picked up, most seemed focused on what they were going to do after the selection ceremony.

Some spoke highly about their futures, while others whispered amongst themselves, openly wondering what they would end up doing. A few more panic-stricken present spoke in hushed tones about the possibility of getting recycled. Far from numerous, these changelings were mostly outcasts, or developmentally challenged in some way, much like William himself.

“God this is bleak,” William muttered to himself. “It's like a bunch of cows chatting while on the way to the slaughterhouse.”

Granted a free day to do nothing seemed only to cause worries to fester, and for an atmosphere of dread to settle over the room. Points of optimism were present, but by and large, worry was the dominant emotion present throughout this section of the hive. So distracted by this miasma of misery was William that he didn't even notice when he bumped into someone standing near the door to his room.

“Oof, hey watch… oh goddamnit,” William murmured, his gaze settling on the other nymph his age with the prominent head fin. “As if this week could get any worse.”

“I’m not here to tease you so don't start crying already,” remarked the bully.

“Then what are you doing here?” William asked back, picking himself up off the ground and dusting himself off.

“Speaking plainly. To say goodbye,” he began, growing somewhat awkward, the changeling unable to meet William’s gaze.

“I… what?” William muttered in shocked confusion.

“Well tomorrow's the big day and given what's gonna end up to you. I thought I’d come by and ya know… say goodbye,” the bully declared.

“Why would you do that? You’ve been cruel to me literally as far back as I could remember,” William pointed out.

“Look. The queen says we gotta strive to be the best, but that's done now. I already got selected for the infantry, even got named but you… you got nothing,” the bully proclaimed. “Come tomorrow you’re going to get recycled, alongside the rest of those poor buggers who grew too fast.”

“The rejects,” William murmured, his mind conjuring images of the mostly empty-eyed changelings that hadn't taken to the quick-grow formula placed in all their food.

“So don't worry about me or really anybody for the rest of the day. Enjoy yourself okay? Maybe find a female to partner up with, or a male, it's not like I give a shit,” the bully dismissed.

“Thanks? I think,” William murmured.

“Just ya know. Enjoy the time ya got or whatever,” the bully added.

He then trotted away, leaving a confused and slightly uncomfortable William standing in front of his door. For a moment the former human considered the possibility of finding someone to share his company with. That urge only lasted a moment before he shook it off, mentally reminding himself that he still had one last chance to survive the ritual.

It was a long shot, but for the moment, all he needed to do was wait.

Lying on the floor, William stared up at the ceiling. As he studied the black featureless ceiling above his head, the cool icy grip of panic crawled up his spine. This really was it, his last chance of surviving this strange hellish place he now found himself in.

He wanted to cry, to run, to fight, or do anything. Yet instead, he just lay there, falling deeper and deeper into a pit of nervous anxiety that threatened to consume him, body and soul.

Then, a knock. The changeling jumped off the ground and ran over to the door with all the haste he could muster.

“Woah there,” Threes exclaimed. “What's the rush Little One?”

“Just really excited to get started, is all,” William replied.

“Well alright then, let's get going. I got a nice out-of-the-way spot all setup and ready,” Threes urged, gesturing into the hallway and the tunnels that lay beyond.

“Let's go!” William pressed.

“That's the kind of confidence I like to see!” Threes proclaimed.

“Just, maybe uh…” Threes paused and frowned. “Maybe this isn't the best idea.”

“No, I just need another second I’m almost there!” William shouted.

The young changeling’s horn sparked and popped, shooting a tiny jet of rainbow of fire into the air. A moment later, the spell completed, and a flaming orb squirted out of his horn, lurching into the air. It then wiggled back and forth before popping with all the strength of a strained whimper.

“Which spell was that?” Threes asked.

“Fireball,” William muttered bitterly.

“Is it supposed to do that?” Threes pressed.

“What do you think?” William retorted.

“Well, there's still a few more offensive spells left in the book. Maybe you can get one of those,” Threes pointed out.

“I’ve attempted nearly every single bit of war magic in this thing,” William proclaimed, shaking the ancient, beat up tome in emphasis.

“What about the ones further back?” Threes prompted.

“They are all utility spells. Useful, but not likely enough to earn me a place in this vaunted scholars you mentioned,” William explained.

“I mean maybe?” Threes half stated half asked. “It couldn't hurt right?”

“I guess I’ll try…” William muttered, flipping through the pages until stopping suddenly near the back of the book. “The dimensional pocket sounds difficult, as well as useful.”

“Oh yeah thats a gooder,” Threes declared. “All those fancy magic folks use it all the time. Seems mighty handy to me. Kinda wish I could cast somethin like that”

“Alright back up. Lets give this another shot,” William exclaimed.

Threes took a couple steps away from the former human, giving him a wide area to cast his spell. Which didn't actually happen right away, as it took several long minutes for William to peice together what the spell wanted him to do. Magic was weird to say the least, with the various runes, and matrixes needing to be imagined perfectly within his mind. From there a number of steps needed to be completed in exacting order or else the spell would misfire.

Apparently, once the pocket was made it would take almost no effort to access but William wasn't sure about that. He could barely understand the warnings on the spell given that it seemed to be partially written in chitterspeak. The other half of the words appeared to be English, but with vowels changed around, and a few new letters having been added. This was, presumably the pony language Threes had mentioned, or some derivative thereof. Either way, the books were primarily a series of symbols with numbers next to them which translated into directions that William mostly understood.

“Alright, here goes,” he declared.

Lighting his horn, the former human began the spell, summoning up what magic he could. Weaving it into the proper shape, he could feel things clicking into place one by one. Then a hitch, his magic sparked as his mind wandered and the image he held in his head became fuzzy.

“Steady now,” Threes exclaimed.

William bit his bottom lip, and shut out the female’s words, focusing on the spell. Desperately holding it together, he felt it slip further and further until he was all but certain it would fail. Then out of nowhere, his horn arced with a strange energy that and all at once the spell fell into place.

A twisting, contorting mass of twitching energy ran over his body, making the former human shiver in confused disgust. He quickly glanced over his shoulder, studying himself for injury but finding nothing out of the ordinary. There wasn't even a scorch mark, just his regular old black exoskeleton, unmarred by any sort of damage.

“Did it work?” Asked Threes.

“Hold on. Let me check,” William replied.

The male then lit his horn once more, and used the shorter version of the spell, summoning a strange tear in reality. Beyond the jagged hole lay only a strange purple and black static that seemed both endless and yet tiny at the same time. William tossed a rock ino it, the stone disappearing, and the spell closing behind it.

“I guess it can only hold one thing. Damn,” William cursed.

“Better than nothing,” Threes countered.

“I suppose,” William admitted.

“Still, that's pretty good. I was a bit worried at the end there. It almost looked like you were using chaos magic or something freaky like that,” Threes exclaimed, chuckling nervously.

“Just needed a second to concentrate I guess,” William murmured.

“Well hot dang. We got a start,” Threes stated. “Maybe you’re one of them utility casters that always goes along with the army. Teleportin’ folks about and using magic to send messages all over the place.”

“Maybe,” William halfheartedly agreed.

“Anyway, lets-”

The female was cut off by the sudden blare of a distant alarm.

“They didn't discover the missing book, did they?” William asked hesitantly.

“They shouldn't have. But maybe… maybe I should bring that back now. Just in case,” Threes replied.

“Yes. Please do,” William offered.

Threes took the book and departed immediately, sprinting off down the long, empty tunnel. William watched her go and proceeded to stare into the darkness for another few minutes. Finally, when it was safe to leave, he did so as well, making his way immediately back to his room.

There he laid for several hours, trying and failing to fall asleep.

“I hope she’s okay,” William thought aloud.

Thankfully his worries didn't last much longer as a gentle, almost hesitant knock came from his door.

“Come in!” William all but shouted.

“Hey Little One, it's me, Threes,” whispered a familiar voice.

William walked over to the opening and urged it to open. When it parted, William expected to see a battered, bruised, and barely alive Threes standing on the other side. Luckily she seemed completely unharmed, if a bit spooked and slightly exhausted.

“You didn't get caught, did you?” William pressed.

“Nah. Got away scot-free,” Threes dismissed.

“Then what was all that?” William inquired, now more curious than concerned.

“It's just an issue with the beast minders,” Threes replied. “Something about the testing creature. Noone that beasty, it probably mauled some poor bugger.”

“Oh uh… okay then,” William murmured.

“Look I just stopped by to make sure you weren't worried about me or nothin’,” Threes began. “I really should be gettin' back. Almost time for lights out.”

“Thanks Threes. For everything,” William whispered.

“Best of luck Little One. I’ll be rooting for ya,” Threes stated, clasping William’s shoulder for a moment before departing.

“Well,” William whispered to himself. “At least someone is.”

Author's Note

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