Twilight Sparkle’s hooves clumped quietly in the soil as she walked through the forest trail, deep in thought. She often found herself walking this trail when she had to think things over; when she had to think about problems she would not find answers to in any book. All around her were the peaceful sounds of nature accompanied by the early morning light pouring through the leaves, and although she was oblivious to them as she mulled over the events of yesterday, the ambience never the less helped her to focus.
Over and over the events of her brother’s wedding played through her head. Images of the changeling queen and her army, their attack on her friends and her home, and her mentor lying defeated on the ground swirled around. Nightmares of Canterlot destroyed and of her brother enslaved by that monster had granted her no sleep at all last night, instead forcing her to toss and turn until the wee hours of the morning.
Had it not been for that one lucky shot… If that monster hadn’t dropped her guard just long enough for Cadence and my brother to act…
She had worn a strong, happy face when everything was over for everypony’s sake, but deep down she was in strife. Nopony else seemed to respect just how close they had come to complete and bitter defeat. The changelings were monsters, but who knows how intelligent they truly were? Their attack was planned, and organized. It was anypony’s guess how long they had been hidden amongst the ponies, watching and waiting for the right moment to strike.
And it wasn’t nearly over yet.
The changelings had been defeated, but were still out there. They lived in great numbers, were formidable on their own, and could become anypony they chose in the blink of an eye. They were a threat. A grave and deadly plague that had tried to devour them all once...
And could very well be poised to try again.
That’s when Twilight saw it laying in the dirt just a short distance from her. It’s chitinous body, left in an unmoving heap on the forest trail, was easy to recognise even in the low morning light. Twilight understood what had happened in a heartbeat: her brother and Cadence’s blast had literally catapulted the changelings back to wherever they came from, but this one had somehow been knocked off course. Instead it had landed in the forest north of Ponyville.
And judging by the large crater and matching skid marks in the dirt, it had hit hard.
Twilight cautiously walked forward, cringing inwardly as she forced herself to look away from the shallow trench dug in the dirt by the changeling’s body as it dragged to a stop. It’s beetle-like wings, or rather what was left of them, lay in pieces leading up to it’s body. Twilight froze in place once she got close enough to notice movement in it’s chest.
It’s still alive.
The fear that this might be a trap nagged at Twilight and stopped her from moving any closer. The changeling laid on its side with its gnarled, hole-filled legs sprawled out to its left, almost as if it were a sleeping dog. It didn’t look like it had made any attempt to move since it had hit. Realizing this, Twilight’s rational side overpowered her caution and gave her the courage to move closer.
This isn’t a trap; this is just one lone changeling with rotten luck.
Twilight slowly closed the distance and got within hooves reach, gently stretching out a hoof to touch its face. Like an insect, its skin was hard and barely yielded under her touch. Its body seemed to be covered in a shiny exoskeleton that acted like armor. That is no doubt how it had managed to survive such a harsh crash, but even then its injuries were severe. Twilight knew nothing about their anatomy, but she didn’t need to. One simple thing was clear—
It’s not going to live much longer.
The changeling finally stirred, woken from its ‘sleep’ by her touch. It slowly opened its eyes to look straight into hers, and bared its already long fangs with a threatening hiss. Its scowl wavered when Twilight wasn’t fazed by its attempt to intimidate her, and its hiss faded into a quiet, defeated sigh.
This wasn’t the swarming enemy she and her friends had faced in Canterlot. The changelings that had plunged the normally peaceful city into abject chaos were a plague that sought only to destroy and conquer. This creature lying at her hooves was an injured animal that had resigned itself to its inevitable fate. Twilight hated these things for what they had done to her brother and mentor, and for what they had tried to do to everypony she knew and cared for, but this pitiable creature had pushed that burning hate deep down inside her to where it could only smolder dimly. As the creature stared up at her with its weak blue eyes, she could only meet its gaze with compassion. No creature deserved such hate in its final moments. Instead, Twilight sat beside the dying creature and gently stroked its forehead, hoping she could comfort it before the end. Barely even able to move, the changeling hissed weakly at her once more.
“Shhhhhh… I won’t hurt you.” She said softly with a sympathetic smile.
The changeling responded only by trying to lift its head, but lacked the strength to raise it more than a few inches from the ground. Without a second thought, Twilight flicked her tail into place and gently guided its head onto the makeshift ‘pillow’. Apparently understanding her intention, the changeling offered no resistance and allowed its head to rest onto her tail.
“What’s your name?” asked Twilight.
She was hopeful for anything she could use to address it by other than it, but the changeling didn’t respond. It only continued to look at her briefly, before letting its gaze wander away from hers.
“Please tell me.”
Again, she was met with silence. Twilight found herself wondering if it even could talk. Their queen could speak, but the changelings themselves had only spoken when disguised as her and her friends.
And even then, they only repeated what me and my friends had already said.
Perhaps speech was only granted to them in that form, or perhaps they could only mimic speech like parrots. These creatures were able to mimic pony emotion and behavior, but did they truly possess it? On their own, were they capable of speech, or even of higher thought? Were they capable of logic and reason, or did they merely follow their queen’s command like a hive of ants?
“I don’t… have one.” Answered a frail voice.
Surprised, Twilight looked down to find the creature once again staring up at her. The clarity of its voice had astounded her; it sounded forced, as if speech was something that did not come naturally or often to them, but it was nevertheless as clear as any pony she knew.
“We spend too much time being somepony else… to bother with names…” came its weak voice once more.
Hearing that, Twilight was nearly brought to tears. Were these creatures truly so empty inside that they didn’t even give themselves names? Was their culture truly devoid of individualism? Did they know art, or create music; did they even pursue knowledge, or was their entire existence devoted to feeding and conquering? It broke her heart to think that a sapient creature could exist without even the simplest beauties and comforts in life. Her gaze faltered as she held herself back from crying.
“I don’t like to be an individual…” it said with a note of scorn in its weak voice, “I have to be an individual every time I imitate a pony… It’s a tiring strain to feign emotions… When I am free to be myself I just want to be a faceless… forgotten shadow—“
It abruptly stopped talking when it started coughing, and spat a small amount of green fluid from the corner of its mouth. Twilight held it gently until its coughing fit had passed, trying her best to see it through bleary eyes.
“You really don’t feel anything?” she wept, “The only thing you can get from love or friendship… is a tiring strain?”
After a moment of thought, the changeling chuckled humorlessly. “We feel love… and happiness,” it said grimly, “We just aren’t ruled by… feelings, like ponies are. It would make feeding… difficult.”
Hearing that reminded Twilight of what was lying beside her. Her pity for this creature had almost made her forget what it truly was, but even then she couldn’t bring herself to hate or abandon it. Its breathing was becoming shallow and its voice had gotten weaker; it didn’t have much time left. The very least she could do was let it say what it wanted to say before the end.
“As we feed…” it hissed, “we suck the very life from our prey. Of course we can leave before they perish and they will recover… but we could care less if a pony dies…” It stopped talking for a moment, struggling to inhale with a raspy cough before continuing, “However… I spare my prey. I can slip into… and out of… a pony’s life and nopony will know the difference… No hassle… no fight…”
These things truly are hollow monsters.
Twilight was enraged by its heartless rationale, but also felt angry at herself. The way it thought actually made sense to her. This one claimed that it spared the ponies it fed on. In some twisted way, even if for an entirely selfish purpose, this thing actually possessed a sick form of morals.
The changeling was breathing with much more difficulty now, struggling to hold air in its lungs before letting it loose. “I… disagree with the queen. Her plan to feed by conquering and ruling over ponies… is a terrible idea. I much prefer slipping into a settlement… and temporarily replacing a loved one. It can be fun… seeing how well I play my part before the loved one returns…” It trailed off again, and seemed to think briefly with a sly smile before continuing, “Or seeing if I can outdo their loved one…”
It trailed off again, this time closing its eyes. Twilight first thought this was the end, but it lived on with a ghost of a smile the entire time. It seemed to be reminiscing about a happy moment in its life. Twilight continued to gently stroke its forehead, glad that the creature could pass on with at least one happy memory.
“There was one pony…” the changeling said still with a weak smile, “that I won the love of on my own. It was a true delight… a pony of my own on which to feed to my heart’s content… and yet… yet…” It struggled to speak once more as it tried to lift its head to look directly into Twilight’s eyes. “And I couldn’t keep her. Either she would have died… or I would have left and broken her heart… Either way I couldn’t keep her… Life… is cruel... isn’t… it…?”
Having asked its question, it gently laid its head down onto her tail once more and closed its eyes.
“Yes, it can be.” Said Twilight in a somber voice—
--but the changeling wasn’t there to hear her anymore. It had drawn its final breath, and left only its crumpled form in exactly the same place Twilight had found it. In that moment, sitting beside the fallen creature, Twilight felt as if the weight of the entire world was on her back. She sat for the longest time, only accompanied by the gentle ambience of life around her in the forest, before finally letting her tears flow.
It was midday, and the sun was high in the sky above Twilight Sparkle. She stood in front of the spot she had picked, giving a brief moment of silence for the changeling. Its final resting place would be here in this small clearing, buried in an unmarked grave at the base of a tree where the sun’s rays could only touch the spot briefly at sunset. She felt at peace; in its eternal rest, it could be what it wanted to be: a faceless forgotten shadow.
