The unicorn stallion shifted uncomfortably in the metal seat, pushing his glasses back into place. Though he wasn't over the hill quite yet, the soft orange fur around his muzzle had begun to give way to grey. He looked down at the unadorned table situated in front of him, staring at the file resting upon it. The file was well-worn from countless perusals; It was the stallion's job to know as much as possible about his patients before he spoke to them.
As a psychiatrist, he had experience with ponies who were uncomfortable with speaking to anypony, let alone some unknown head-shrinker. Normally, the warm, inviting setting of his practice would help put them at ease. Unfortunately, this wasn't a normal case, nor was it the normal setting.
He sat in an interrogation room in Canterlot Castle, waiting for the guards to bring the patient (he preferred not to refer to her as a prisoner) into the cold, sterile room. The flourescent bulbs that lined the ceiling painted the room a stark blue hue. The doctor shivered slightly, still not used to the seemingly low temperature of the room. To take his mind off of his surroundings, he decided to look over the file once again. It took little concentration to magically flip through the pages of the file as he had already done many times before, but it helped keep him focused on the upcoming session. Opening a file in front of a patient always made them uncomfortable, and this one would liekly be no exception.
Since the invasion on the castle a year ago, concerns had risen that changelings had replaced many residents and government officials, killing and taking the place of proper Equestrians. Paranoia was at an all-time high. In response to the concern, the Princesses had created task forces solely for the purpose of tracking and exposing these imposters. The doctor had counseled soldiers before, helping them cope with re-integration into civilian life. However, this case was going to be a new experience for him; he had never counseled a murderer.
The abrupt clang of the heavy steel door opening startled him from his musing. The doctor watched as two prison guards, clad in cobalt armour, led his patient into the room. The mare had chains on all four of her hooves, as well as a large metal casing around her midsection, clamped down so tightly that she must have been in extreme discomfort. The casing held her wings in place, so that she would not be able to utilize them. The steel of her restraints stood out against the light green of her coat, highlighting the cold seriousness of her situation.
The mare took her seat opposite the doctor as the guards took their places by the door. The patient looked at the doctor wearily, her face set in grim lines. The doctor smiled softly at her and began to speak.
“Hello, Miss. My name is Doctor Quill. I'm here because I'd like to hear your story. May I ask you for your name?” He knew her name from the file, of course. Still, he found that ponies were more open to talking if he introduced himself and politely asked that they do the same.
It didn't seem to affect the patient, though. She sat there, blankly staring at Dr. Quill. This didn't overly faze the doctor; he hadn't expected her to tell him her life story based on simple introductions and pleasantries.
“I am told that prior to this... incident, you were a soldier. Royal guard in Princess Celestia's Sol Division. That is impressive.” Dr. Quill chuckled softly, although the echoes in the room lent an unexpected macabre tone to his laugh. “I attempted to enlist some years ago, back when I was young. Medical reasons kept me out, though.”
The patient maintained her silence, much to the irritation of the guards. The female guard stamped her hoof on the ground, snorting angrily. The male guard practically shouted at her.
“Listen, monster, the doctor is trying to help you. If you'd like, we can take you back to your cell and let you sit there until you're executed!”
Dr. Quill had to resist the overwhelming urge to bring a hoof to his forehead. Damnit, if anything, behavior like that will just cause her to shut down!
“Guards, Please! That is not helping!” Dr. Quill said emphatically. “Please, wait outside.”
The guards both looked at the doctor like he was insane. The male guard spoke up again.
“Sir, we were given strict orders to stay with you at all ti-”
“Did your orders also include interrupting my conversation with my patient? Did they include interfering with this investigation?!” The doctor could feel his blood pressure rising as he fought to keep his tone neutral.
The guards looked like they had swallowed something bitter. This doctor had been brought in by Princess Luna herself, and they did not want to be accused of hindering him.
“Very well, sir. We will wait outside. Should you need anything, please, let us know.”
Dr. Quill calmed down visibly. “Thank you, I will.”
He blew out a sigh as the guards closed the door behind them. His patient was still looking at him. He knew that he had to get this discussion back on track, but he had a feeling that it wouldn't be easy after the guards' outbursts.
“I am sorry for that, Miss. Being a guard is a high-stress job, and ponies often deal with that stress in... different ways.” He exhaled again before continuing. Perhaps the blunt truth was the best path to take.
“I have read the reports, Miss. I was asked to come speak to you to gauge your mental stability. There are ponies out there that are calling for your head. Prince Blueblood himself is requesting a return of the Old Punishments.” Quill shuddered as he said that. The Old Punishments were abolished centuries ago. An eye for an eye was an outdated philosophy. To bring it back...
The doctor shook the dark thought away, and focused on the mare before him. “I will not call you a murderer, nor will I call you a monster,” Quill stated plainly. His patient's eyes widened a bit; she was clearly not expecting to hear that.
“I am not here to judge what you did, I am only here to listen to your side of the story. To help you.”
His patient's expression became stoic again, though Quill could practically see the gears in her head turning. The doctor was contemplating what he could say to coax her further, when a sigh from across the table caught his attention. He could see that she was preparing herself to speak. He lifted his pen with his magic, ready to begin writing.
“Whenever you are comfortable enough, Miss. Take your time.”
The former royal guard looked down at the table as her thoughts flashed back to that day.
********
I was doing my job.
We had been investigating a possible safehouse that the changelings had set up in the Ruby District here in Canterlot. All of our Intel suggested that a small jeweler's shop was being used as a front for the safehouse. They were taking changelings in and keeping them hidden until a suitable target could be picked out to eliminate and replace. We had been keeping tabs on the shop for days, waiting for the call to come down to take it out.
The call finally came. Our spotters witnessed two figures being led into the safehouse roughly half an hour before dawn by four others. The spotters could hear faint sobbing and pleas coming from the two figures. The addition of hostages forced the team into action. The order was given, and the Dawnbreakers were sent in at sunrise.
Glory and I covered the rear entrance, with Cirrus, Aegis, and Daggertail manning the front door. The shop did not have any windows, so we knew that the only two visible avenues of escape were covered. On the signal, both teams broke through the doors simultaneously, catching the inhabitants off-guard. They hadn't expected company, so they wore their natural forms openly.
Glory hefted his spear, driving it into a changeling to his right, while I sped forward to neutralize a changeling who was beginning a spell. The changeling dodged my thrust, but his concentration on the spell was broken. He twisted toward me, snarling, and threw out a wing in an attempt to bring me off-balance. I blocked the wing with my spear and shifted my grip, propelling the spear into his side. The changeling howled in pain, and turned to flee with the spear still lodged between his ribs. I dropped the spear and drew my sword. The changeling stumbled forward as the resistance from my grip disappeared. I stood above him and slashed downward, severing the changeling's spine at the neck. I sheathed my sword, pulled my spear from him and continued into the shop.
The storefront itself was not very large, as was expected. Our comrades up front were making short work of the changelings gathered there. It seemed that we had caught them preparing to bunk down for the night, as a majority of the changelings had been lying in cots that had been set up in the lobby section of the store when we entered. That was good news for the team, since it meant that they had likely not harmed the hostages yet. Glory caught up with me as I approached a staircase leading downward. He looked at me with a smirk on his face.
“It seems like the other three have this floor secured. You ready to head down?”
I smirked back at him, nodding. We made our way down the stairs.
The stairs seemed to go on forever. There was no way that this was storage for the shop above. We finally reached the bottom of the stairs, coming to a poorly lit corridor. Electricity hadn't been run this far down, and the torches that lined the walls guttered and danced. It felt like a dungeon. There were four doors on each side of the corridor. The hostages were behind one of them. Glory and I looked at one another.
“I'll take left.”
That left me with the doors on the right. We began methodically breaking down each door, careful to keep pace with one another, just in case one of the rooms held a nasty surprise.
The rooms themselves weren't that large, about the size of the shop above. They held beds with restraints, likely where the changelings brought their victims to be questioned about their lives before being killed. Glory and I reached the last set of doors, when a warning shout from above clued us in to a changeling fleeing down to the basement. Glory looked at me, nodding his head toward the unopened doors.
“I'll take care of the straggler. Find our hostages so we can get the hell out of here.”
I gave a curt nod, and he sped toward the staircase, preparing to engage. I broke down my door, and spotted the hostages in a corner of the room.
The larger of the two, the female, lay in the lap of the other. Her body seemed withered and frail, as though she hadn't eaten in months. She wasn't moving. Yet, still, she had her arms wrapped around the smaller hostage, as though protecting him.
The smaller hostage was a stallion, probably not much older than I was when I first enlisted. He was breathing rapidly, as though he were surprised to see me. I walked toward the prone figures and looked down upon them. The stallion looked up at me, shocked. When I saw his eyes.... I knew. I readied my spear, and brought it down upon him. I...
********
The mare shivered in her seat, her neutral face threatening to crumble under what she had to say next. While she was relaying the story to the doctor, she had been speaking in a military monotone, as though she were giving a scouting report. Whatever she was about to say clearly could not be said with the same emotional discipline.
Dr. Quill looked at her steadily, not wanting to prod her before she was ready to speak again.
“I misju-” Quill's patient blew an unsteady breath, attempting to regain control of her tongue.
“Take your time, Miss.”
After a moment, she seemed to be in control of herself again. “I misjudged my thrust... The kill wasn't clean.”
Quill raised an eyebrow slightly. “I see... How many did it take?”
Dr. Quill's patient broke eye contact, staring at her forehooves. “Four.”
Both of the doctor's eyebrows raised at that. Four strikes... that could not have been pretty. He composed himself as she looked back up at him, and gently motioned for her to continue.
“The stallion's cries brought Glory back to the threshold of the room. I heard him gasp as I pulled my weapon from the stallion's body for the last time. When I turned around, Glory was standing there in shock. His eyes took in what I had done, but his brain couldn't seem to process it. All he could do was say my name, over and over again.”
Tears began to form in her eyes at that last admission. “Glory is...was... my closest friend. We've had each other's backs for so long... Still, even he couldn't understand, couldn't ask me why I did it.” The tears were falling freely as she looked back down at her hooves.
“They call me a monster and a murderer... I understand why, and I don't blame them. They couldn't know...”
Dr. Quill tilted his head quizzically. “They couldn't know what, Miss?”
The patient looked back up at her doctor. Her voice was low and filled with anguish as she spoke.
“That I was doing my fucking job.”
********
Dr. Quill sat across from his patient silently, giving her time to compose herself. He had to remind himself that this mare had just admitted to murdering somepony, otherwise he would have been greatly tempted to place a reassuring hoof upon hers. Instead, he simply sat there, hoping that she would draw some comfort from his presence.
The patient's breathing grew steady after a moment. She eyed the plastic pitcher of cooled water sitting next to two paper glasses on the table. Looking back at the doctor, she spoke in a strained voice.
“Doc, would you mind pouring me some water? My throat hurts.”
The doctor smiled kindly at her. “Of course not.” He lifted the pitcher with his magic, pouring a generous amount of the cool liquid into one of the glasses, while filling the other glass about halfway. He shifted the full glass toward his patient, taking the other for himself.
“When you're ready, Miss, I would like you to continue. I feel that you started at the end of your story. I'd like to hear what led up to the events that you've described to me.” Dr. Quill picked up his glass of water. “We can take a small break before we proceed, if you'd like.”
The mare took the glass with both hooves, her restraints clinking noisily. After quenching her thirst and setting her glass down, she spoke again. Her voice sounded stronger.
“I would like a few minutes to gather my thoughts, if that's okay, doctor.”
The doctor drained his own glass as she spoke, and looked back at his patient. “Certainly, Miss. I am going to step out for a moment, and review my notes. I will return shortly.” He smiled and stood up as he finished speaking, his horn glowing faintly as his notepad followed behind him.
“Please stop calling me 'Miss', Doc.”
Doctor Quill turned turned back toward his patient, who was looking at him with mild irritation. She continued.
“If you're going to be helping me, I'd prefer that you call me by my name.”
The doctor sighed inwardly, disappointed in himself. He had hoped that she would give him her name freely.
“Very well, Leilani. I will return in a moment.”
With that, he turned back to the heavy steel door and knocked sharply, prompting the guards to open it and look inside. He eyed them both with a withering look.
“I am stepping out for a moment to look over my notes, and will be back shortly,” Dr. Quill began. “Until then, I ask that you maintain a silent vigil over my patient.” The doctor directed his stare, as well as his emphasis, toward the stallion guard.
The guards both shifted nervously under Doctor Quill's unrelenting gaze. They nodded their acquiescence, and moved to let the doctor pass. He walked out of the room and down the hallway, heading toward the gardens.
********
Quill reached the gardens, shivering slightly in the light drizzle. The sky above him was overcast, creating a grey pall over the grass and flowers that surrounded him. He trotted over to a nearby gazebo, setting his notebook on the table and pulling a small metal case out of his breast pocket, as well as a monogrammed flip-top lighter.
Flipping the case open and removing a cigarette, he lifted the lighter and paused. Doctor Quill looked over the lighter for a moment, letting his eyes take in its details, as they had countless times before.
The monogram read IQ, his father's initials. Doctor Quill had followed in his father's hoofsteps, taking eagerly to the sciences of the mind and psyche. He had inherited his father's intelligence and (some would say morbid) curiosity, and in the end, his practice. The doctor had also inherited his father's love of the occasional cigarette, though that was Quill's own doing. The lighter was both a keepsake, and a reminder to Quill that he was very much his father's son. Perhaps a bit too much.
I probably never should have started these damn things, Quill thought with a grimace as he flipped open the lighter and lit his cigarette. Well, nothing to be done for it now.
Quill shrugged and took a drag. His breath came out as a haze of nicotine as he picked up his notes and began perusing them.
Leilani had pretty much corroborated the reports that he had read prior to their meeting. The events and locations all coincided with what he had read and been told. Still, the way she told the story was bothering Quill.
He had expected remorse for the killing, or perhaps a sadistic pleasure. He hadn't expected her to relay the events in such an emotionless way. Quill took another pull from his cigarette. Perhaps I should have, he mentally chided himself. The military trained their soldiers to stay professional under duress, and detaching emotion from traumatic events wasn't uncommon on the civilian side either. He wondered briefly why he had thought that she would open up to him so quickly, before chalking it up to his ego.
She had begun to show emotion near the end though. Strangely, it wasn't the kill itself that had upset her. Rather, it was the fact that her target had suffered.
It wasn't much, but it was a start. Dr. Quill stubbed the cherry of his cigarette out on the side of the table, and threw the butt into the garbage can to his right. Lifting his notebook again, he walked back to the room where his patient awaited him.
Author's Note
Heya folks,
This story will be my foray into changeling lore.
Comments and criticism are welcomed and encouraged. Please point out any spelling/grammar mistakes I may have made as well. Let me know what ya think!
Pick-Six
After relieving the guards of their post in the interrogation room, Dr. Quill sat back down in his seat opposite Leilani. The chained pegasus raised an eyebrow as she gave a small sniff in the doctor's direction.
“You a smoker, Doc?”
Quill winced at her question, cursing under his breath. He knew that most ponies didn't care for the smell of smoke, and had made it a point at his practice to never smoke before or during a session.
“Yes, I smoke every now and again. I apologize for the odor.”
Leilani snickered at this, happy to forget her current situation, if only for a moment. “No need to apologize, Doc. I find it comforting. My Dad was a smoker.”
The doctor saw this as an opportunity to get his patient comfortable around him. “Mine was too. I used to sneak cigarettes out of his packs from time to time when I was a colt.”
Leilani's snicker turned into a full blown laugh. “ You?! Doc, no offense, but I can't see you staying out past curfew, let alone stealing your Dad's smokes.”
Dr. Quill shrugged, embarrassed. “I was young, and stupid.”
“We all were at one point, Doc.” Leilani was still smiling.
Quill smirked at her. “Oh? Sounds like you have some stories to tell from when you were a filly.”
Leliani shrugged. “Not so much growing up, but after I enlisted. My squad and I had some wild times.”
“I can imagine.”
Leliani snorted. “Don't get the wrong idea, Doc. We kept it low-key as much as possible. Can't go around embarrassing the officers. They do that well enough without our help. Still, we had some fun. There was one time we were sent out on a joint training exercise with the 404th Gryphon division. Our last night there, we had a party. Glory wound up hooking up with this pretty little bird for the night. He had beak marks all down his neck the next morning. ” The mare began laughing again. “We gave poor Gloryhole so much flak for that.”
Quill surprised himself by giving a bark of laughter. “Gloryhole?” He asked incredulously.
Leilani gave another chuckle. “My nickname for Glory. He'd get so pissed whenever I called him that. It was cute.” The mention of her friend stole the smile from the mare's face. Cold reality settled back into the room, robbing it of the mirth that she and the doctor had been sharing.
Quill cleared his throat uncomfortably, trying to re-establish his professional demeanor. He looked at his patient, eyes full of empathy. “I am sorry that Glory hasn't come to see you yet, Leilani. Give him time.”
Leilani smiled sadly. “I'm not sure if I want him to come see me, Doc. Maybe it's better that he remembers the good times we had, instead of seeing me in this... well... where I am now.”
This time, Quill did put his hoof on top of hers. “He'll want to see you again eventually, Leilani,” he said reassuringly. “The circumstances of that meeting depend largely on our conversations here today, and in the following days. I am going to do whatever is in my power to help you, but in order to do that, I need you to start at the beginning. I need the full picture.”
Leilani looked Doctor Quill in the eyes, gauging his sincerity. She had already decided that he was genuinely concerned for her well-being, but she wasn't sure that he'd believe her. Still, she wanted the truth out there, and he was her best bet. Whatever happened to her afterwards didn't matter.
“Okay, Doc. But first, what do you know about love and changelings?”
********
"What do you know about love and changelings, 'Lani?"
Glory's question gave me pause. While I was well-versed in changeling combat, I had to admit that my knowledge of them pretty much dried up after that.
“Changelings and love? I don't know if they can. Love somepony else, I mean.”
Glory looked at me from across the table, chewing thoughtfully. We were sitting in the battalion Dining Facility, enjoying a dinner of grains and flowers. Not exactly home cooking, but it did the job. The overhead lights and minimal décor that surrounded us screamed practicality. Seriously, would it kill them to put a couple plants and paintings around the room?
It was relatively slow tonight; most of our unit was recuperating from the week-long field exercise that we had just gotten back from. They were probably relaxing or sleeping in the barracks, too tired to be hungry. Glory swallowed his mouthful of food and raised his glass of water in mock salute.
“To the D-FAC: The last line of defense against starvation.”
I grinned and raised my drink to his. The glasses clinked softly against each other. “Amen to that,” I replied. After a swig of water, I set my glass down and looked at Glory questioningly. “Why did you ask about changeling love habits?”
He shrugged, his wings brushing against the wall behind him. “I dunno, I guess I'm just curious as to why we know so little about them. I mean, sure, they're the bad guys for the most part, but there has to be a few that would be willing to talk to us.” He brought his fork back down to his plate as he finished speaking, scooping up another mound of his food and shoveling it into his mouth.
I cringed and gave him a look of disgust. “For Celestia's sake, Glory! Nopony's gonna take your food away from you! Eat like a civilized stallion, please!”
Glory stopped chewing and gave me a toothy smile, complete with bits of food stuck in his teeth. Goddess, he was a slob when he ate.
“But you taught me how to eat properly, Blue-Eyes.” Glory said playfully around a mouth full of half-chewed food.
I narrowed my eyes and grinned evilly. “You really want to bring nicknames into this?”
Glory's eyes widened as he choked down his food and gave a cough. “T-that's not fair, 'Lani! I've called you that for years, I thought you liked it!”
I laughed and dropped the charade. “ I do like it, otherwise I'd have put a stop to it.” I decided to get one last shot in. “It's just that I like messing with your head even more.”
Glory rolled his eyes as he took a drink of his water to soothe his throat. “Screw you, 'Lani,” he said, laughing.
I was still grinning.“You couldn't afford me, Sweetheart.”
Glory and I were good friends. Hell, best friends. We put up with a lot from each other that we wouldn't tolerate for a second from someone else. We had first met in the recruitment office, where we enlisted at the same time. He was a tenderhoof back then, always afraid that he'd offend somepony. I was sarcastic, and not afraid to curse someone out if I didn't like them, which included most ponies that I met. An unlikely friendship to be sure, but through the years, we'd gotten to know each other better than any other pony out there, save for maybe family. I hated to admit it, but Glory had helped me soften my attitude toward others a bit. For his part, he had grown a spine and come out of his shell. Well, for the most part. He was still insufferably unsure of himself from time to time, but that's what I was there for.
We were both smaller in the early days, as the years of training and exercise were still ahead of us. Now, though, Glory had the build of a fighter. He was lean and toned, his muscles standing out slightly against his tan fur. He certainly caught the attention of many mares, and even a few gryphonesses. I gave him hell about that last part every chance that I got.
“How's Miss Birdie doing?” I chuckled as he choked again. This was too easy.
Glory stammered to reply. “Sh-she's doing well. She's supposed to be getting some leave here in a few weeks, and is going to come down to see me.”
I smiled, genuinely this time. “That's good to hear. I'm happy for you, Glory.” And I was. Even if she wasn't technically a mare, Glory had still found someone that made him happy. Most of the unit thought that he and I were an item, simply because we were friends, and I never really hung out with other stallions. No matter what we said to dispel the rumors, they stuck around. Eventually we just decided that it didn't really matter-- We knew the truth.
“I'm still kind of surprised that you're so okay with me being with a gryphon.” Glory's playful manner fallen away, and he rubbed the back of his head self-consciously. I stared at him soberly for a moment, before replying.
“You know what they say, Glory. Take love where you can find it. Life's too short to let a simple thing like race keep you from being with someone you love. Besides,” I smiled again, “I don't have a leg to stand on. My preferences may be more common than yours, but they're still uncommon enough that I have to be careful who I hit on.”
Glory brightened a bit at that, then laughed as the memory I was referring to came to mind. “That unicorn at the bar was so surprised when you kissed the tip of her horn. I thought she was going to run through the wall trying to get away from you!”
I gave an exaggerated sigh. I had a thing for horns, and I really had too much to drink that night. Still, Glory was cheerful again, even if it had come at the expense of my pride. Glory stopped laughing, though he was still smiling. “She's out there, 'Lani. Just give it time. Any mare would be lucky to be with you.”
I smirked at Glory, sarcasm bubbling up inside of me. “So now you're giving me relationship advice, lovercolt?”
Glory laughed again. “Hardly. I just can't wait to be your best stallion at the wedding.”
I rolled my eyes and resisted the urge to smack him with a wing. Little victories.
“Back to your question,” I said in my changing-the-subject voice. “They don't talk to us for one reason: They're trying to blend in. They're either violent identity thieves, whom we hunt, or they're non-violent and trying to live their lives as best they can. Either way, talking to changeling hunters is probably rather low on their priority list.” I spooned the last bit of my dinner into my mouth as I finished speaking.
Glory nodded sagely as he spoke. “That makes sense. Still, getting some insight on the changeling mindset would really help us do our jobs. Plus, it might dispel some of the fear surrounding them, at least for the ones who aren't causing trouble.”
I sighed and shook my head. “Even though I agree with you, it's not going to happen. Changelings weren't exactly welcomed with open arms before the invasion. Now?” I left the thought unspoken. I was sure that Glory got my point.
I looked up at the clock on the wall, and saw that the D-FAC was gearing up to close for the night. I got up from my seat, and motioned to the clock so that Glory would notice. It was time to leave, so that the staff could finish cleaning up without anypony in their way. There are two kinds of ponies that you don't want irritated at you: Those who handle your money, and those who handle your food. Well, you also don't want to piss off Supply, unless for some reason you enjoy filling out mountains of requisition forms.
Glory and I both shivered slightly as we left the warmth of the D-FAC and stepped into the cold air outside. The sky overhead was clear, with the moon illuminating our surroundings in a cold blue glow. Autumn had finally begun to draw to a close, leaving naked trees and a need for warm clothing in its wake. We walked toward the barracks in a comfortable silence. It was another thing that I liked about Glory; he had learned that conversation wasn't always necessary. We rounded the corner leading up to the main doors of the building, when Glory's ears perked up. He snapped his head back and forth, searching for the source of the noise. “Did you hear th--”
A shout drew our attention to the road opposite us. Two guards were running toward us, chasing what looked like... a changeling! The changeling was injured; she had cuts along her chest and legs, and one of her wings hung at her side, obviously broken. She skidded to a stop in front of us, eyes pleading. Glory and I stood there, stunned at the spectacle that we were witnessing.
It doesn't matter who or what you may be, fear and exhaustion always look the same. The changeling wore an expression of abject terror. It was more than fear of being caught by the guards. It was a fear that made you wake up at night in a cold sweat and turn your mirrors to face the wall.
Glory and I were still trying to grasp what was going on when the changeling's horn flashed. Glory dove forward in an effort to tackle her before she could get the spell off. I just stood there, entranced by the feral, desperate look in her eyes. Glory connected with her as the spell went off, a beam of green energy hitting me squarely between the eyes. I gave a yelp of surprise as I snapped out of my stupor and felt a wave of vertigo wash over me. Whatever she hit me with, it didn't hurt. I just felt... numb. My vision started to blur as I watched the ground rush up to meet me. The last thing that I remember seeing was Glory rushing over to me as the two guards leapt on top of the prone changeling, pinning her down.
********
Leilani finished speaking and motioned for the doctor to refill her glass. He obliged, and she sucked down the water gratefully, clearing her throat after finishing. “When I woke up, I was in a hospital bed, hooked up to an IV and a catheter. That was fun.”
Dr. Quill gave a look of mild surprise. “A catheter? How long were you bedridden?”
The mare shifted in her seat, trying to regain feeling in her backside.
“According to Glory and the doctors, I was unconscious for four days.” Leilani continued to shift around, before looking back at the doctor. “Hey Doc, do you mind if I stand up for a moment? My rump's fallen asleep.” She was expecting him to say no. She would, if the roles were reversed.
Quill considered her request for a moment. He didn't have much experience in dealing with prisoners, but he was fairly sure that they weren't allowed to stand unless directed to by the guards. Still, he saw no harm in helping her stand and stretch. He didn't believe that she would try anything, not that her restraints would allow her to, even if she had wanted to.
Dr. Quill's seat scraped the floor as he rose from it, walking around to his patient's side of the table. Leilani gave a small, involuntary flinch as he lifted a hoof to help her stand. Quill pulled his hoof back, looking at his charge in concern. “Why did you flinch, Leilani?”
Leilani cursed silently, embarrassed that he had noticed. “Sorry, Doc. The last few times that I was in this chair and somepony walked around the table toward me, it wasn't to shake my hoof.”
Doctor Quill was aghast. “They struck you?!” He said, pointing to the heavy reinforced door. It was unbelievable. He could somewhat understand hostile words or dirty looks toward a prisoner, but physical abuse? This was not the Royal Guard that he had come to respect and admire.
Leilani shook her head emphatically. “No. At least, not the two outside. They may not have anything nice to say to me, but they keep their hooves to themselves. The mare that interrogated me when I was first brought here was a different story.” She gave a small chuckle. “I don't think she liked me. ”
Quill was still furious. He looked at Leilani squarely and set his jaw. “Rest assured, the princesses will be hearing of this. I will find out who interrogated you, and I will have her damned job!” If there was one thing that set Quill off, it was the abuse of somepony in the custody of others. Prisoner or patient, it didn't matter. Defending yourself was one thing, but hitting a bound and helpless pony was an outrage that he would not tolerate.
Leilani blinked at her doctor's sudden rage, not expecting to ever see the doctor's kind smile twisted into a snarl. She patted the air with her hooves, hoping to calm Dr. Quill down. “H-hey Doc, it's no big deal. I just got smacked around a bit. Considering my... circumstances, I understand it.”
“That's not the p--” Dr. Quill took a deep breath, brushing a hoof through his mane. “That's not the point, Leilani,” he stated as calmly as he could. “Forgive my reaction, please. I don't get riled up easily, but what the interrogator did to you is a quick way to make an enemy of me.”
Doctor Quill reached out a hoof toward Leilani again. She took it this time, restraints clinking as she slid off of her chair and stood up. She stretched and walked in place for a moment. “Goddess, it feels good to stand again, even for just a minute.” Clinking rose from the wing restraints as Leilani attempted to shift her wings, with little success. Still, she managed to find a bit of relief from the cramped position of her feathered appendages.
Quill stepped back to allow her space to move around, silently looking her over to check for signs of abuse. So much hostility toward her, he thought. She did something horrible, to be sure, but she is still a Pony. What's more, she used to be a soldier like them! There's no empathy, no questioning. Just hatred and anger... Something isn't right. He resolved to voice his concerns when he made Princess Luna aware of the violent tendencies some of her staff carried.
Leilani smiled appreciatively at the doctor as she sat back down at the table. “Thanks, Doc. I appreciate you trusting me enough to let me stand and stretch.”
The doctor took his seat opposite the mare again, returning her smile. “Trust is the foundation of any relationship. If I wish for you to trust me enough to confide in me, the least I can do is trust you in return, even if only in a small way.”
The mare's smile faltered a bit at that. “I'll be honest with you, Doc. Trust isn't something that I give easily. Most ponies only want to exploit it. Whether they're trying to get into my blankets or my head, there's always something.”
Quill cleared his throat uncomfortably at Leilani's barb. He hoped that she didn't see him that way, but he knew that the popular opinion of his profession was not a positive one.
Leilani noticed his discomfort, and regretted her words. "Sorry about that, Doctor Quill. I'm an ass at the best of times. I didn't mean anything by it."
The doctor waved his hoof dismissively in the air. "It's alright, Leilani. No offense taken. I know how most ponies feel about those in my line of work." He a gave a small, forced chuckle, deciding to direct the conversation back to the matter at hoof. "After you woke up in the hospital, what happened?"
Leilani took note of the sudden change in the subject, but decided to go along with it. She had inadvertently insulted the only pony who wanted to hear what she had to say, so it was likely for the best that they get back on track. "Well, when I woke up, Glory was there. He looked like he was about to burst into tears."
Quill smiled softly. "It sounds like he was really happy to see you wake up."
Leilani beamed at the memory. "He was. I found out that while I was unconscious, Glory was at my bedside the entire time." She shrugged. "Well, whenever he wasn't on duty that is. Sometimes I think that he's a puppy disguised as a stallion." The mare's ears drooped and she felt a pang of guilt as the insult passed her lips. "I don't deserve a friend like him."
The doctor shook his head. "I disagree. Judging by the way you talk, and from what you've told me about him, I'd say that you two mean a lot to each other."
The mare shrugged half-heartedly. "I guess so, Doc. It's just hard to talk about him right now."
Dr. Quill nodded in understanding. "It will get better."
"A-anyway," Leilani continued, attempting to set aside thoughts of her friend for the moment, "They kept me an additional night for observation, very much against my will.” Quill smirked at that. “Glory stayed the night as well, and filled me in on what I had missed while I was out. Apparently, the changeling that had attacked us had run through Canterlot in her natural form, making a beeline for our post. She hadn't attacked anyone else, but she didn't bother to try and communicate either. Why she stopped running when she found Glory and me, we don't know."
"Were they able to capture and detain the changeling after she attacked you?"
Leilani nodded. "They were. Something went wrong, though."
The doctor raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"
Again, she nodded, her irritation evident. "When I was finally discharged from the hospital, one of the first things Glory and I did was head up to the prison to speak with the changeling."
Leilani stopped talking, and her face set into a grimace as she fell into her contemplations. After a moment passed, her continued silence prompted Dr. Quill to ask, " And what happened?"
The mare could only hold her shackled hooves up in the air. "Nothing, because she wasn't there. According to the prisoner log, she was supposed to be checked in and observed by no less than two guards at any time. There was no written record of her being taken from her cell by anypony. When we reached her cell, we found no guards, no prisoner. Nothing."
While Quill maintained a calm, thoughtful expression on his face, inwardly his anger was flaring up again. Thoughts of Leilani's “experiences” with the interrogator flashed through his head. "That's... alarming. Did you report a breakout?"
Leilani scoffed. "Of course! Well, technically not a breakout, but we reported that the prisoner wasn't in her cell, and that her guards were nowhere to be seen. The guard at the desk all but blew us off. He said that they were probably giving the prisoners their rec time."
Quill could tell that the guard's story hadn't convinced her. He wouldn't have been either. "Did you believe that the guard was lying?"
"Absolutely." Leilani replied with certainty. "You don't just take something that can change its form and let it frolic in the damned flowers."
Dr. Quill was nodding before she even finished speaking. "What did you and Glory do?"
"The only thing that we could do. We went up the chain of command.”
********
“This is horse shit, Glory, and you know it!” I was livid. I could feel the guard's smug expression through the closed door behind us. I did not appreciate being given the runaround in regards to a creature that had tried to kill me.
Glory looked at me with concern and tried to calm me down. “I know, 'Lani, but that guard isn't going to tell us anything. We need to figure out where to go next.”
I shot a glare at the stallion, who shrank away slightly as he saw the anger in my eyes. I was too mad to care. I wanted answers from the prison staff, not some half-cocked excuse. “I know that, Glory. That changeling spell didn't turn me into an idiot.”
Glory cast his eyes toward the floor. “Sorry, Blue-Eyes.”
I snorted and looked back at the entrance to the prison. “Damn desk jockey. Probably thinks that the definition of work is getting up to use the little filly's room.” My eyes widened as a thought struck me. “Wait a minute, why the hell are we even dealing with this guy?”
“What do you mean?” Glory asked, his confusion evident.
My anger faded as a vindictive smile grew on my face. “What I mean is that we're Dawnbreakers. Changelings fall under our jurisdiction. If that jack-hole doesn't want to give us answers, then maybe his commander will.”
Glory nodded as my intentions became clear to him. “You want to talk to the warden? That seems like our best bet. We'll have to talk to the front desk again, though.”
“Oh, don't worry, Glory. I plan on doing exactly that.”
We reentered the building, trotting straight up to the front desk where my “friend” was sitting. True to my expectations, he wore a self-assured expression hidden poorly behind a mask of professionalism. “Welcome back, Sir. Ma'am. Is there something else that I can do for you?”
His patronizing tone set my teeth on edge. I had to resist the temptation to grab him by the mane and slam his head into the desk until his eyes changed colour. Instead, I spoke to him in a polite but forceful manner. “Yes, actually. We need to speak with Warden Bastille.”
The guard frowned in displeasure at the request. “I'm sorry, but that won't be possible at the moment. The Major is very busy.”
I expected as much. I was about to explain to the guard why it would be in his best interest for the Major to make time for us, when I was interrupted by Glory. “This is a matter of great importance. A dangerous prisoner who has the ability to shape-shift is nowhere to be found, and the Warden needs to be made aware of that.”
“I'm sorry, but there's nothing I can do f—”
I slammed my hoof on the desk, startling both Glory and the guard. I'd had enough of this. “Listen, pal. My friend and I aren't just some random ponies looking to get a picture with the big bad changeling. We're from Sol Division. You know what that means?” The guard opened his mouth to speak before I held up a hoof to cut him off. “It was rhetorical. My point is that this problem is now our problem, and you aren't going to like it too much if we have to get our superiors involved. So before you get reassigned to cleaning latrines with your toothbrush for the next decade, I'd suggest that you get us a few minutes with your commander.”
The guard blanched under his fur, and stood up quickly, snapping to attention. “I'll see what I can do for you, ma'am!” With that, he rushed off, presumably to tell Bastille that I was mean to him.
Glory gave me a long-suffering look and sighed. “That... wasn't the best way to handle the situation, 'Lani.”
“Hey! It got us results, didn't it?” I responded defensively. “Besides, it felt good.”
Glory shook his head. “Well, promise me that you'll be a bit more tactful when dealing with the Warden.
I fluttered my eyelashes and smiled. “I promise that I will try.”
The guard came back a few minutes later with news that the Major would see us. No trace of his previous smugness could be seen. I sneered at him as Glory and I walked past him and made our way to Warden Bastille's office.
Glory knocked lightly on the door and looked at me. “Remember, 'Lani. Tact.”
I rolled my eyes and pushed the door open at the Major's invitation. I looked around the office briefly, sizing up my surroundings. The office was uncluttered and spacious. Various awards and pictures hung on the wall behind the Warden's desk, along with a saber that was well-worn and cared for. It was obvious that Bastille was a military stallion through and through, and his office reflected that. It could have passed inspection several times over.
“Sergeant Leilani, Specialist Glory.” I pulled myself from my contemplations and saw that Glory was already standing at attention. I snapped to attention next to him and looked over the stallion who sat at the desk in front of us.
The guard at the front desk may not have impressed me, but I knew that the real deal was before us now. Major Bastille was a stocky, well built Earth Pony, obviously still physically fit despite his age and relatively cushy job. His grey mane was cropped close to his scalp, and his eyes carried the weight of his experiences as a soldier and an officer. He had authority, and I could tell he knew how to wield it. He walked around his desk and stopped in front of us, frowning. “At ease.”
Glory and I fell into parade rest, waiting for Bastille to speak again. We didn't have to wait long. “What is this about?”
Glory took the initiative, thankfully. I didn't trust myself to speak anything other than my mind at the moment. “Sir, we wish to speak with you in regards to the changeling that is being detained at this facility. We came here to ascertain the reasoning behind her attack on Sergeant Leilani.”
Bastille snorted dismissively. “Changelings need a reason to attack, now?”
Glory cleared his throat uncomfortably, quickly glancing at me for support. “Well, Sir, while changeling attacks are sadly a bit more common these days, this particular attack raised a lot of questions. For one, she was in her natural form when she encountered us. Even an injured changeling can manage a small glamour that would fool most ponies at night. Also, she didn't attack immediately upon reaching us, which is unusual, as she took both of us by surprise.” I felt a small flush of embarrassment as Glory said that-- you don't get to be a successful changeling hunter by letting the enemy get the drop on you.
Bastille scratched his chin thoughtfully. “Yes, I read the report on that incident. I will admit that I was curious myself. Unfortunately, it's out of my hooves, now.”
My eyes widened and I stamped a hoof on the ground. “What the hell are you talking about?!”
I was almost sure that Glory was going to faint beside me. The Major's mouth set into a grim line and he looked at me levelly. “Sergeant, in light of what you have recently gone through, I am willing to forgive your breach of decorum. Once.”
Glory all but sighed in relief to my left. I gritted my teeth and forced myself to speak professionally. “Thank you, sir. It won't happen again.” Bastille nodded and seemed to accept my apology. I wasn't done yet, though. “Permission to speak freely, Sir?”
The Warden took a moment before replying. I assumed that he was weighing the pros and cons of allowing me to speak my mind. Eventually, he relented. “Granted.”
“What do you mean by 'out of your hooves,' Sir? According to the logs, the prisoner is set to be held here indefinitely.”
His eyes flared in anger briefly as he grabbed an official-looking document from the desk. “I mean that the decision is no longer mine to make. Custody of the changeling was transferred over this morning to the Castle Stockade, by Royal Decree.”
I hadn't expected that. “She was taken into custody by the Princesses?”
Bastille nodded, clearly not happy with the decision. “It seems so. Apparently, they believe that the changeling,” he looked over the document and read aloud from it, “holds information paramount to the security of the Diarchy.” He looked back up at us. “She's been taken to an undisclosed location in the castle proper. I had planned on sending a copy of this decree to your commander to keep her abreast of the situation.”
Glory's face twisted in confusion. “Sir, I mean no disrespect to you or your command, but the guard at the front desk told us that the prisoner was likely getting her rec time. He seemed to know nothing of her true situation.”
The Major gazed at Glory levelly for a moment. Glory blanched, thinking that he had perhaps gone too far in his candor. Finally, Bastille sighed, and when he spoke again, his frustration was unmistakable. “I'm going to be honest with you two, because I don't expect this conversation to go beyond these four walls. The guard up front is lazy, and he's an idiot. The only reason that he's not out on his ass is because he comes from a family of great wealth and influence. I'm pretty sure that I could whip that colt into shape, if his mother would allow it. Sadly, that's not the case. Rich civvies have too much authority over military funding for my liking.” Bastille grimaced. “Nobles.”
I nodded silently at the Warden's words, agreeing with them completely. While our division was fortunate that the sons and daughters of the privileged rarely wanted to risk their hides in real combat, I knew that most of the other divisions weren't so lucky. The Warden shook his head and turned to place the scroll back onto his desk. He picked up another, less impressive scroll and turned back toward us.
“Sergeant, here is a copy of the decree that was sent to me. Make sure that your commander receives it.”
I nodded and took the scroll, sliding it into a pouch on my side. “Yes, Sir. Will do.”
Bastille grunted and walked back behind his desk, sitting down and preparing to sift through the stack of paperwork in front of him.
I had one last question to ask. “If you receive any additional word regarding the prisoner, could you let us know, please?”
The Major didn't even look up from his paperwork. “If I receive any additional details, I will have them sent off to your superiors, Sergeant Leilani. You are dismissed.”
It wasn't exactly the answer that I was looking for, but it was better than nothing. “Thank you, Sir.”
Glory and I moved to exit his office as he spoke up. “One last thing, Sergeant.”
I turned to face the Major again. “Yes, Sir?”
He fixed me with a stare that could have melted stone. “The guard up front may not be up to my standards, but if you threaten a soldier under my command again, I will have you pulling security details in some backwater shithole of a town for the rest of your career. Do I make myself clear?” There was no anger behind his words, only cold seriousness. It wasn't a threat, it was a promise.
I went rigid and nodded my assent swiftly. “Crystal, Sir.”
As we exited the prison, Glory looked over at me and sighed in relief. “Well, that went better than I expected it to.”
The Warden's last words still rang in my head, and my annoyance at the Glory's satisfaction was written plainly on my face. “How the hell do you figure, Glory?”
“I thought for sure that by the end of the day, we'd be staring down a court-martial.”
I snorted, my annoyance fading away. “You have no faith in me.”
Glory smile mischievously. “When it comes to speaking to our superiors, you're absolutely right.”
********
“After our visit to the prison, we went back to headquarters. I dropped the scroll off with the Commander's assistant, and Glory and I went to pick up our duty rosters.”
Quill looked at the mare in mild astonishment. "You went back to work so soon? I'm surprised that they didn't give you a few days to fully recover."
Leilani shrugged. "I didn't want time off. I wanted to get back into my routines. No use hanging around like a worthless lump when there's work to be done. The first few days went well; I settled back in quickly, and ponies stopped trying to handle me with velvet mitts as soon as I smoked a few of them. The Major still hadn't gotten back with us about the changeling prisoner, but in all honesty, we didn't expect a prompt response. Other than that, I picked up right where I left off."
The doctor raised an eyebrow. "I sense a 'but' in there."
Leilani sighed, hesitating in a way that the doctor would not have come to expect from her. "There's always a 'but,' Doc. My days pretty much returned to normal. My nights, however... Not so much.”
Author's Note
HUGE thanks to Featherprop for his help with cleaning up this beast of a chapter. I dub thee my editor, good sir. No, you don't get a say in it.
