Reshackled

-=Chapter 3=-

A rooster crowed loudly, signaling the beginning of the sun's voyage across the sky. The smell of dew-soaked apples permeated the old wooden walls and mixed in with the scent of dried hay as small shafts of light flowed in through the tiny cracks in the roof.

Shacklebolt groaned and rolled over, scratching his belly. "Ugh, shut up, stupid rooster." His eyes shot open. "Rooster?" He jumped up and got to his hooves, his gaze darting around the barn he'd slept in, and then over his body.

He sighed and hung his head. "Fuck, it wasn't a dream after all." He gripped his stomach, which was now hurting with hunger. Looking around, he was ready to try eating anything at this point, and started by grabbing a mouthful of hay and chomping down on it.

What are you doing? That's not food.

"Oh, you're back," the changeling said to himself, "What do you know about food?"

The voice remained silent. Now that he thought about it, he couldn't even discern what the voice really sounded like. He could only describe it as the voice one would hear in their head when reading a book; his own voice, yet hit had the annoying undertone of a backseat driver.

Shacklebolt ignored it and kept chewing the hay. It tasted dry and grassy, and he had a hard time getting himself to swallow it. The feeling it left him with was the same as before, full of... something, but nothing satisfying.

Frowning, he sat down and tried to think. His memories only went back as far as when he woke up in that castle, yet images of his own world remained, yet unlinked to any past experience. He remembered getting acquainted with his new body, tall into the river, and his unfortunate first encounter with this world's inhabitants: the bug-eyed ponies.

"If they reacted that way to me, then how would commoners react?" Shacklebolt wondered, "And that unicorn, ugh, I can't believe I'm calling someone that... but, he used magic. I thought magic wasn't real!" He held his head and pressed into his temples, fighting back the headache that was forming. "And how the hell did I use magic back?"

He was torn from his thoughts by a voice from outside.

"The hammer's in here, AJ. Ah'll git it fer ya."

Shacklebolt gasped and ducked behind the hay stack, watching cautiously as the barn door slowly creaked open. His chest heaved as panicked breaths pumped through his lungs.

Open your mouth.

The changeling found this to be an odd command from his inner voice, but complied nonetheless; it had been right before. As he did, he found the whooshing noise of air going through his mouth was quieter than before.

As the door opened enough to admit the newcomer, a shadow stretched across the floor of the barn. The morning light made the owner of this shadow seem much taller than they really were; the pony that opened the door was just a tiny filly with a large bow in her hair.

Damn it, Shacklebolt thought, I was right. More ponies. He ducked back a bit further, making sure he couldn't be seen. His black chitin blended in well with the darker area in back of the barn, but he didn't want to risk his solid eyes casting a glimmer.

The small foal paced around the barn for a moment, then climbed up onto a bucket and grabbed a hammer that was hanging up, holding it in her mouth. She stepped down, nodded to herself, and then scampered out, kicking the door shut as she went.

Shacklebolt heaved a sigh of relief. "That was close. Too close. I need to get out of here."

His belly growled, demanding something other than hay to fill it. The changeling licked his fangs and felt the tips of them. "I really, really hope I don't have to drink blood."

He waited for a minute to make sure the coast was clear, then climbed out and looked up. There was a loft above him, and if he was lucky, the window up top would allow him to escape in a direction where the ponies wouldn't see him, at least not in time to catch him.

The changeling coiled his legs and jumped, trying to use his wings to gain height. He still hadn't figured out how to control them, and ended up faceplanting backwards. He growled and stood up, shook himself off, and tried to jump again. This time, he managed to grab the edge of the loft and started to pull himself up.

He grunted and used his sticky hooves to keep a grip on the wooden planks, slowly but surely winning the fight against gravity. That was, until the door started to open.

"See ya this afternoon, Applejack!" the foal from before said as she stepped into the barn.

Shacklebolt froze and looked down at the filly who hadn't yet noticed him. He reached forward to grab further up, but his hoof landed on a patch of straw, and when he tried to pull, he lost his grip and went tumbling down. The changeling landed with a loud crash, knocking over hanging equipment as he fell.

The small pony jumped back with a yelp, then grabbed her hammer and held it between her forehooves, standing on her hind legs. "Who's there? Ah got a hammer, an' Ah know how t' use it!"

Shacklebolt groaned and got up to his hooves, then gasped and jumped back. "W-whoa! Hold up! Put that down!"

The foal squeaked and reeled back. "A changeling! Stay away!"

The changeling winced as a new sensation hit him, coming with a sharp and unpleasant smell. I'm starting to hate that word. "Hold on, now. I'm not gonna--SHIT!" He dodged the hammer spinning through the air towards his head, only to crash into a support beam.

The force of the impact sent a rippling shock up the beam, causing bits of wood and dust to fall from the roof, followed by a low creaking noise that steadily increased in volume. Shacklebolt rubbed his head then gasped and looked up, realizing what that sound meant.

"Get down!" He lunged forward and pinned the small filly, covering her with his body as the beam buckled and the roof began to collapse. "Stay under me!" Shacklebolt tried to yell over the sound of the structure collapsing around them, weathering chunks of wood and debris falling diwn on him from above and glancing off his hardened chitin. He grunted and struggled to keep himself up as larger chunks fell down on top of him, soon burying him and the foal underneath.

"See ya this afternoon, Applejack!" Applebloom called to her sister.

Applejack looked back at the little foal and smiled. "See ya later, AB! Don't stay out crusadin' fer too long!" She watched her sister trot towards the barn to return the hammer she'd used to repair the apple cart minutes before. She turned pull her full cart towards town when her ear flicked back at the sound of a loud cracking noise. Applejack turned her head around towards the barn and looked on for a moment. "It's probably noth--"

She stopped as she saw the roof of the barn suddenly begin to cave in, followed by the walls. She gaped and stood frozen, unable to believe what she was seeing. Snapping out of her stupor, she kicked the harness off her back and broke into a full gallop. "Big Maaaac! Git out here, quick!"

The red stallion was already drawn out by the noise, and was by his sister's side in seconds. Both ponies began sifting through the wreckage, shouting for Applebloom.

"AJ?" a small, scared voice said under the rubble.

"Mac! Over here!" The ponies focused their efforts where they heard their sister. Both of them stopped and gasped when they found her in a small pocket under some planks where something was still holding up part of the weight.

"Applebloom!" Applejack wrapped her forelegs around her sister and held onto her for dear life. "What happened!"

The trembling filly didn't say anything; she just pointed her hoof into the ruined barn. Big Macintosh curiously lifted some of the wood, then stepped back. All three ponies stared wordlessly at the unconscious changeling.