Is Your Friendship Mistaken?

A\N: Anybody want to find the Mass Effect 2 reference in this chapter?

The teen awoke with the sun shining brightly in his eyes.  “…Swear she shines it in my eyes on purpose.” He grumbled as he climbed out of bed.  The night had been eventful, and lack of sleep was beginning to play its part, but the sun just HAD to go for the face didn’t it?

Twilight was downstairs making notes.  This was unusual; she normally had certain times she made notes.  It was all part of her scheduling OCD.  When asked about it, Twilight replied she had wanted to find out more about Blackheart.

Memories flooded through Kyle at the mention of the villain’s name.  He still felt a pressure at the back of his mind, as if Blackheart was caged, but making sure Kyle knew the price.  He shook his head, telling himself that he was just imagining it.

“So,” Twilight began, “do you think you could see about doing… I dunno, anything with him?”  She gave a hopeful yet confounded look, as if unsure about the question itself.

“Are you sure it’s safe?”  He replied, the lethargy clouding his common sense that this was in fact, far from safe.

“I could try to latch on some magical restrains in case you react poorly.”  She said, an eager look on her face that should only have belonged to only the craziest of scientists.

He yawned and shrugged, his lack of sleep ensuring his complete and utter stupidity in the decision.  The violet pony focused, her horn glowing, and then lilac-colored ropes shot out from the wooden floorboards and onto the unsuspecting boy’s limbs.

He gave them an experimental tug, and they held.  They were taut, and restrained him properly.  He focused on the pressure in his skull, and it grew to a pounding.  He spoke to himself mentally, “I am in my own mind, and I will not be controlled by Him.  I am the master of myself.”

“Are you?” A snarky voice replied.  “Let’s see then, how about you feel what it’s like to have power over form and substance.”

Kyle felt shock at the reply, but the shock was dwarfed by the sudden rush of something flowing inside him.  An image of Blackheart formed in his head, and it felt like a thousand tiny needles pricked every inch of him.

He focused more on the picture, and the pain intensified in response, but he would not be deterred, he was a master of himself.  He heard something gasp, and then he was brought out of the expanses of his mind, and into the world of the living.

His vision took a moment to clear, but then he was face-to-face with Twilight.  He tried to stand, but fell over as soon as his front feet left the ground.  He looked, unsure of what caused this, and saw large, gray paws with midnight nails.

Now he understood why he was on level with the prodigy magic-user.  He had changed to the form of Blackheart, complete with Corrupt Cutie Mark.  The needles had been fur sprouting from him, he supposed.

He took a few experimental steps, and found nothing wrong with himself.  Then he noticed Twilight’s bonds were nowhere to be seen.  She was staring at him, “Kyle?” she asked, her voice filled with fear and awe at the power he was imbued with.

He nodded to her, “It’s me.  But, I heard I was given two things.  Power over form,” He emphasized the last word and gestured to himself with his head.  “And power over substance.”  He said as he walked over to an apple on the table and tapped it with his nose.

In the apple’s place was a bowl filled with some sort of grain and multi-colored things, all floating in an opaque liquid Twilight guessed to be cow’s milk.

“Neat.”  Kyle observed, and then, at the sight of something familiar, his eyes shrank to pinpricks reminiscent of spectral possession and all of his restraint vanished.  He drove his muzzle into the bowl, licking up whatever he could get at in the bowl.

Twilight stared at his odd behavior until he finished the bowl.  He looked up, milk dripping from his mouth and bits of oat stuck to the fur near his nose.  She giggled at the sight of a fearsome predator looking like a foal that hadn’t learned to eat properly.

He licked the remainder off of himself and looked at Twilight.  “Lucky Charms;” he said, “breakfast of champions.”  He then took a look at the mess he made.  “Oooooooohhhhh.” He said, unsure how Twilight would react.

She just giggled more and more until she was laughing freely.  He just stared blankly at the normally reserved mare laughing like she just found out what a joke was.

When the violet pony was finished, she lifted the table-cloth magically and folded it, and placed it on the pile of things that needed cleaning.

She turned back to him, a serious look on her face.  He stared back with a look that disguised all though and emotion.  Before he could make a move, Twilight began to bombard him with questions.

For a brief moment he imagined Twilight as a Nazi interrogator, and he the prisoner, but the image quickly faded as he struggled to keep up with the flow of questions.

He left later that morning, work being his excuse.  He had found the transformation back to a boy had been much easier and less painful.  Still, he had to prove to the ponies of Equestria that he could be trusted.  And that meant staying faithful to his commitments.

He didn’t say a word as he walked into the orchard, lost in thought.  He was thinking about Luna.  Had asking this of her been the right thing?  Or was it too impulsive and stupid of him to know what effects that would have?

He never felt his usual fatigue because of how concerned he was over the navy-blue Alicorn.  She LOOKED the same age as him, but she was thousands of years older.  Had she had relationships beforehand?  Would she even consider him legitimately serious?

Questions raced through his head like irritated hornets.  Each thought stinging him more and more into a horrible bout of depression.  But then, an idea came to him, bright as the sun Celestia loved blinding him with.

He finished and raced towards Ponyville.  He was on a mission.  He was liquid lighting, racing down the road to the town at breakneck pace.  Finally, he reached the spot he was looking for.  Above him, on a cloud, lay Rainbow Dash.

He called to her, and she leaned over the cloud to look at the human.  He told her what he had planned, and she saluted and raced off into the sky.

Kyle arrived at Twilight’s house earlier than expected, so he had time to dress appropriately and shower before the night came.  Twilight wasn’t home, so he left a note on the new tablecloth.’

Twilight, gone to Luna’s to talk about something important.  Stay here and set up, I’ve asked Rainbow Dash to find all of your friends so we can talk later tonight about my problem.

-Kyle

He dropped the pen on the paper, weighing it down, told Spike to ask Twilight to look at the note, and raced toward Canterlot.  He ran faster than before, taking Blackheart’s form painlessly as soon as Ponyville left sight.

The guards didn’t see him and therefore let him pass without complaint.  He was shown to the door of Luna’s study, but then abandoned by his escorts.  He knocked, and quickly Luna answered from inside, “Enter.”

He walked into the room to find it was reminiscent of a battlefield, but the bodies were books and notes, although the pages were covered in ink and whatnot.

“Luna, we need to talk about where we’re going.”  He said, holding back a remark about remodeling.  She walked out of a closet, her face serious.

“What about it?”  She said, fearing this was going somewhere bad.

“I need to know about you.  It was a stupid and spur-of-the-moment thing to ask of you.  But I’m sticking to it.  I need to know about you or this will never work.”

She stared back at him.  He began, “I’m not sure what I need to learn to leave this place; in fact, I’m not sure I want to.  I don’t know how old you are, or if you’ve been in other relationships, I want to know who I promised myself to.”

“Alright, one life story coming up…”  She trailed off as she began her story from the earliest she could remember.

The Nightwalker stood in his cage facing his latest hireling.  “Queen Chrysalis, you are the final assassin I am sending to keep Luna and Him apart.  They must never truly care about each other.  If they love each other I’ll have your hide.  Now go, pull them apart in any way you can.  And don’t bother praying if you fail.  No god can help you if you do”

With that, the changeling was gone, and he stood alone in Nowhere.  He knew she would fail.  He’d finish her off if she lived.  He made the body of a human; it stood in front of him, immobile.  Direct intervention was necessary.