A Foal in Any Other Skin.
Prologue: Paper work.
“So…” Twilight started, “no other changes?”
“Not since the big one three days ago,” Scootaloo replied. The library was closed for the public at the moment, a necessity to get the facts straight in private.
“Okay, that’s good. And you’re not feeling sick in any way? No little wounds or cuts you can’t explain?”
The filly shook her head.
“And how are Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom taking it? Is the crusading any different?”
“Well...”
After Apple Bloom’s last fiasco with the cupcakes, the girls had decided to take their cooking talents (still left unproven and unillustrated, sadly) to the Apple family kitchen. The orange pegasus pony came racing towards the house on her scooter, always quick when it came to supplies.
“Did you get everything we need?” Apple Bloom started as her friend walked through the door.
“I got the herbs from the market, but they ran out of eggs, so I laid some myself.”
Two pairs of eyes stared at her blankly.
“What?” Scootaloo asked with a sarcastic tone. After all the chicken jokes she’d to endure, a little payback was more than overdue.
“Okay, let’s just get started. ‘Apple quiche’,” Sweetie Belle narrated, “can’t be that hard.”
Some time later, the walls had an eggy stickiness to them, there were pieces of apple strewn over the stove, and somehow a few apple seeds had managed to find their way into the ceiling, along with an odd green slime. The seeds looked pretty comfy, embedded up that high. All in all, it looked like a standard failure for the three. The slime was new, though.
“If anyone asks: Sweetie Belle, your magic flared up,” Scootaloo started.
“Scootaloo: you brought a thundercloud in the house and that got the apple seeds in the ceiling,” Sweetie Belle replied, “And Apple Bloom -”
“I’ll go get the bucket and soap,” came the groan.
“Things are still pretty much the same, actually. Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom don’t treat me any different, my parents are okay with it, and my body doesn’t even feel that different. Things are just like they were before. The only real difference is now I can make sticky stuff instead of just landing in it.”
“Yeah, word of advice: don’t wear any expensive clothes until you can get the hang of that, or at least stock up on lemons. It took princess Celestia weeks to get that stuff out of her mane, not to mention what it did to her carpets.” The mare grimaced at the unsavoury mental image.
“I’ll err...try to keep that in mind.” The filly blushed. For some reason, she felt that this sort of conversation would mean something very different if she were a little older.
Silence fell between the two. Twilight narrowed her eyes in sympathy.
“You know what I’m going to ask next, right?”
“Yeah.” The girl bit her lip at that.
“It’s okay. No one’s gonna see but us. You know your secret’s safe,” Spike added. The baby dragon was keeping track of their conversation, putting a check whenever Twilight said something she’d apparently planned to say. The whole thing felt like a parent-teacher conference, or something.
“I know. I don’t really mind, but it still feels kind of weird to do it, you know. Like I really shouldn’t.”
“You know it’s okay, so…can I have a look, please?” Twilight asked, her voice gentle and unnervingly calm.
With a sigh, Scootaloo concentrated and let her magic flow. Green flames tickled over her body as her very soul felt like it jumped from one pillar to another, first falling into an abyss, then landing safely and just standing still. Orange fur made way for black plates of keratin and a smooth skin, her mane made way for something that resembled a web but kept the colours, and her wings evaporated to form two hyaline protrusions. All in all, she looked weird, but still vaguely pony-ish, and not even an ugly one, at that.
The horn was what did it, though. No fangs, no holes, but that horn sticking out of her forehead still felt a little awkward.
“You know, you don’t look half bad,” Twilight offered.
“Thanks. Rainbow Dash said the same thing. Guess I’m lucky I didn’t get the holes or the fangs.”
“Well, you might still get those, actually,” Twilight started as she went to get a scroll, “when your changeling genes woke up, you got all of their abilities. You may have been born and raised as a pegasus foal, but you’re a full changeling now. That means you’ll have to learn to fake all the abilities a pegasus pony has, if you want to keep this a secret. It also means that even your basic shape can change even without using that green flame magic.”
“Okay, I guess I can get used to that. I don’t think I’d really want it to, though. I mean: I haven’t gotten tired of staying in one shape yet, and I really don’t want ponies to go calling me a ‘bug’ or something.” The filly rolled her eyes at the thought. Snips and Snails would never let her live this down, not to mention Diamond Tiara.
“Oh, that’s just silly, Scootaloo. You’re not a bug. Bugs have triangular bodies and sucking mouth parts, you clearly have a rounded body and chewing mouth parts. If anything, you’re more of a beetle than a bug.” The mare gave her that patented ‘Smile! It’s lecture time!’ look.
“Gee, thanks,” the changeling replied with more than a hint of sarcasm.
“Come to think of it, you might be part fly, too. Unless those fangs are hollow; then you’d be more of a flying arachnid, I suppose. Actually, would you mind growing an extra pair of legs? I think I’m going to need my notes on this.”
That train of thought got derailed by the sound of a baby dragon clearing his throat. Spike was not amused at the turn this conversation was taking, for reasons that took Twilight one or two logical steps to figure out.
“Right. Anyhow: Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom can keep it a secret, your family knows and so do me and my friends. Anyone else in the loop is a professional who’s been sworn to secrecy. We’re not going to tell the rest of the town, we’ve promised,” Twilight started.
“I know. I appreciate it.”
“Besides that, the reason why I wanted you to come over is to give you this.” Twilight used her horn to float over a book with a lock on it, “This will be your personal diary. Try running some energy into the lock and say ‘Open’.”
Hesitantly, Scootaloo followed the command. The lock opened, and the blank pages revealed themselves to her.
“That type of lock is rigged to only open when it feels your personal magic. It can tell the difference between Earth pony magic, pegasus magic, it knows only you can open it. I’m not sure if other changelings can force it open, but either way you can record things privately in that. That diary’s big enough to have more than a page a day for a whole year.”
“Umm, thanks, but…I don’t really have that much stuff to write about, do I?” Scoots narrowed her eyes in thought.
“You will now,” Twilight replied, “now that you have a horn and a magic that’s…I guess close to a unicorn’s, you should make a note of the important things that happen in the day, and any progress you make when you start practising spells. Besides that, there’s something a little more practical to consider. Something a little more unpleasant, I’m afraid.”
Scoots grimaced at the thought.
“See, princess Celestia had to be informed as well.”
“Obviously.”
“And she pointed out that if anything bad ever happened involving -- you know -- other changelings, it could get really confusing, really quickly.”
“So I just don’t turn into any other ponies. No biggie.”
“I think you and I both know that’s a temptation you won’t be able to avoid.” Twilight smirked a little to herself, “No: changing shape comes natural to you now, and you might find situations where you feel you have to. We all know you can learn to handle that responsibility. But while you do, keeping track of where you’ve been and with whom will help us figure things out if there’s ever any misunderstandings. If you know who you were with, we can check it. You won’t have to keep a detailed list, but a few notes at the end of every day will help.”
“Right. So keep track of witnesses or you get blamed for everything, got it,” Scootaloo summed up with the hint of a hiss.
“Nothing quite so drastic, but yes, that’s the long and short of it. Since you’ll be able to use magic now, you should keep a magic journal as well as keep track of who you’ve been with. Princess Celestia wanted me to tell you that a diary is what every magic-using pony keeps to record how their thinking changes as they grow up. She also wanted you to have this,” she gave the changeling foal the scroll.
Scootaloo checked it once, then twice. After the whole ‘Gabby Gums’ affair, she thought she’d never see the day.
“Princess Celestia sent me a letter?”
Twilight nodded down at her.
“That scroll is for your eyes only. Go on, see what she has to say.”
Scoots’ heart was pounding with nerves. What if Celestia decided to imprison her? What if she had to take pills to stunt her powers?
With a deep breath to steady herself, she opened the scroll and faced its contents.
Dear Scootaloo,
Word has reached me of your recent change, and I must say I was quite surprised. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen a changeling living peacefully among ponies, and in all honesty I hadn’t thought it would happen again, certainly not like this. I can only imagine what must be going through your mind now. Unfortunately, there are many questions that I fear I don’t have an answer to. That said, the ‘how’ and ‘why’ must be well-known to you by now, so perhaps shedding some light on the ‘what now’ is in order.
First of all: you are still considered a pony. You are not listed as an enemy of the State, nor of my throne. I’ll just assume you intend to keep it that way.
“So, what does she say?” the unicorn asked.
“She says I’m not gonna get thrown in jail for being turned into a changeling.”
If not, please be advised that my oubliettes haven’t been cleaned in centuries.
Scootaloo’s eyes widened at that.
“Umm…Twilight…’oubliette’ is a bad thing, right?”
“Well, it’s a sort of pit that’s used as a prison, so yes: that’s pretty bad. Why do you ask?”
“No real reason.” Scootaloo dismissed the question.
Little jokes aside, you’ll have to get used to your new abilities and the responsibilities that come with them. Being able to change shape is certainly a big temptation to play pranks, especially for a fun-loving foal like yourself. And as odd as it may sound: I won’t forbid it. Nor will anyone forbid it on my behalf.
Unicorn foals, pegasus foals and Earth pony foals all develop their own magic and other unique abilities as they grow. Many of them can cause quite a bit of damage, as I’m sure you’ve noticed. Your peers have to carry the same sort of responsibility, and to treat you any different would be unfair. You have changeling instincts as well as changeling abilities now, and you will have to learn to judge when to use your magic. I’m sure there will be some missteps along the way, and I have no doubt that most of them will reach my ears, but it would be unfair to deny you something that is now a part of you. All I ask is that you be careful and that you learn. It is no more and no less than what I ask of my other little ponies.
Scootaloo smiled in relief at the fact that even princess Celestia herself still considered her a pony.
That said, I’m afraid you will be on your own for many of your lessons. There are no other ponies in whom this change has been triggered, and any records of changelings and ponies living together in peace are muddled at best. The time that I spent with them was quite brief, certainly not enough to know how they learn to master their magic. As much as it pains me to admit, I cannot teach you, nor do I know of anypony who can. But rest assured: I’ve instructed my scholars to pour over the archives to see what references they can find. If they come across anything that may be of use to you, you’ll be the first to know.
In the meantime, I can only advise you to practise on your own and record your progress. Twilight will gladly teach you the basics, but keep in mind you are not a unicorn. What I do know of changelings is this: they need love to use their magic. You’ll be spending energy that keeps you alive, so do not overextend yourself. I am confident that you’ll find enough love to live, but concerning magic you will need to exercise moderation. Learn when enough is enough and you will be fine.
Scootaloo’s eyes fixed on the next line.
Here’s what advice I can give: do not confuse success with happiness, my little pony. Do not let anything or anypony ever tell you that you should stop trying to be happy. Be careful, but do not be fearful of yourself. Remember that while you are different, you are not that different. Do not be afraid to ask for help from those around you. My faithful students will gladly help you as you try to make sense of what to do.
And if you should wonder what to do in your adult life, lacking a cutie mark: if the prospect of working in Canterlot does not frighten you, I’m sure I can find a suitable position for someone with your skills if ever the need should arrive. But that is a concern for another day. For now, try to adjust as best you can, and feel free to have some fun, within reasonable limits.
I hope that this offers you some solace, and I look forward to hearing of any progress you make.
Yours,
Princess Celestia
Scootaloo let the princess’ words sink in for a bit.
“Well?” Twilight smiled widely, curiosity nearly driving her to take the letter for herself.
“I think she’s okay with it,” Scootaloo replied, “Everypony is.”
“Good. Spike, did I forget anything?”
The dragon went over the checklist and put his claw on one point.
“Yeah: the hospital thing.”
“Oh, right. Princess Celestia’s appointed a personal physician to you. He’s not an expert on changelings, but he’s the closest we’ve got. His name is Home Remedy. You’ll just have to drop by Ponyville Hospital sometime to get checked up, in case anyone missed anything when you changed. There’s also...” the unicorn let that sentence trail off.
“What?”
“My friends and I -- and your parents, I guess -- have all been given instructions by princess Celestia, as well as a small package. We all have a certain aromatic oil in our medicine cabinet now.”
“I don’t think I like where this is going.” Scootaloo’s insect wings gave a cursory buzz of nerves.
“The oil is commonly known as ling-nip: it’s something ponies are mostly immune to, but changelings are really sensitive to. It numbs their senses, makes them go drowsy. It’s a sedative and an anodyne, from what I understand.”
“Wuh-Wait, you have stuff in your house that’s designed just to knock me out?” the changeling filly backed away in fear just a little.
“Try to understand: you have a different body chemistry now. While you’re still in pony form, you can take everything we can, but we don’t know if being tranquilised will make you go back to being in changeling form. And we also don’t know if the tranquiliser that’s in your system while you change back is going to kill you,” the unicorn explained, leaning in for effect.
“But my parents didn’t tell me about that. Why wouldn’t they tell me?”
“Probably because they didn’t like it either, and they didn’t know how to tell you. I do. It’s for your own safety, as well as ours. It’s the only medicine we know for sure is safe, and we really don’t want to find out that you have a panic response or heart arrhythmia while you’re hurt. Home Remedy knows about you, so you won’t be at risk if you ever end up in Ponyville Hospital. It’s just those rare emergencies we want to be ready for, Scootaloo, the times that you need medical attention right away and the hospital’s too far. We don’t want to end up giving you something to help and hurting you in the process. We’re okay with the way you are, but it still means we don’t know that much about you. And it won’t be necessary most of the time, right? It’s just in case you get injured and we need to ease the pain; we can even dose it so you stay conscious.”
“That doesn’t sound so bad. I guess it does make sense that you don’t want to risk it. It’s still kinda scary, though: not having any doctors who can patch you up. I mean: I might turn into a monster and no one would be able to stop it.”
“Trust me, the doctor thing doesn’t come up as often as you might think. And you don’t have to worry about turning into a monster: there are monsters right here in Ponyville bigger than anything you can turn into,” Spike randomly noted.
The filly was going to question that, but she quickly saw the folly in discussing who’s the bigger monster with a baby dragon. Particularly one who’d already thrashed the town once. She rolled up the scroll from the princess and changed back into her pegasus pony self, whipping her tail as she did. For some reason, her tail and wings were a little harder to do.
“Okay, I think I’ve got all of that. Was there anything else?”
“Spike?”
The baby dragon shook his head and drew a final line on the checklist.
“Nope, you’re free to go. Just be careful no one else finds out, alright?” Twilight insisted.
“Don’t worry. I will,” the girl replied as she went out the door, “oh, and thanks. For -- you know -- everything.”
“That’s what we’re here for, Scootaloo,” came the cheerful reply.
She breathed a sigh of relief once she was out the door.
That had gone a lot better than she’d expected. No ban on changing shape, no quarantine, even princess Celestia didn’t set up any real rules. None that she wouldn’t have followed to begin with, at least. And the whole medicine thing wouldn’t come up anytime soon: she’d learned how to break her fall by now, and she’d never broken anything else. She could still be herself and have the whole changeling thing not matter. As she mounted her scooter and donned her helmet, the filly realised Twilight hadn’t even noticed Scootaloo’s little addition to her pegasus pony body. She’d gotten away with it.
And hey: if Twilight Sparkle doesn’t catch you making your wings bigger, nopony will.
