Delirium

by ngrey651

First published 9th of May, 2013

Twilight Sparkle is given an ancient journal by Princess Luna, a Changeling journal detailing an age long past, of grand cities and amazing technology, of an incredible Changeling culture...and of one singer's walk along the fine line of insanit

I've been too hard lately on the Changeling culture and I haven't shown enough of pure Changelings in my stories. As a Brony, that's unacceptable! So it's time for me to take a look at an imagining of what their people could be and might have been once upon a time with this little mystery story I've made, a tale meant to examine the Changeling race, it's culture and history through the microcosm of one Changeling singer who wants to develop himself further by becoming an actor, a tale that looks deep into themes of prejudice, identity, insanity and the realities that actors wrap themselves in.

What is false?

...what is real?

Delirium

“We should never ask of anything “Is it Real”…for everything is real.” C.S Lewis

A soft wind blew gently through her hair, the sunlight casting a firm shadow on the porch she stood before, her light purple fur rippling slightly in the breeze. Twilight Sparkle slowly pushed the front door to her home open, glancing about in the enormous circular room that was her main entrance hall, her most precious books lining the walls in shelf upon shelf. The horn atop her head glittered a faint pinkish hue as her deep indigo eyes focused in on book after book that magically hovered before her face.

Again and again she passed over book after book. None of them were what she needed: a tome that told of the Changeling race, the strange shapeshifters that plagued her homeland of Equestria in secret, beings shrouded in mystery and deceit. The army of the Changeling race had attempted to invade her continent’s capital. They had almost gotten her and her dearest friends killed. Her brother had almost MARRIED one, and her dear childhood babysitter had been kidnapped by their heartless queen. Why? To feed upon the positive emotions of the people of Equestria, to fool all into blindly following the foul Queen Chrysalis and undermine the country from within.

And yet…despite how much she knew about them, she didn’t really know anything. She knew they fed on emotions like love. She knew they could change shape. She knew they could fly like Pegasi ponies could, knew they could perform magic like she could, knew of how strange and insectoid their forms were, but when it came to how they came to be, where they came from, what they even did when they weren’t trying to sneak into pony villages to take the place of unsuspecting fillies and foals. What were their likes, what were their dislikes? How did they reproduce, where did they live? HOW exactly did they feed on emotions anyhow? Were all changelings like Chrysalis? Were there even such things as “good” Changelings? Of course there had to be! After all, she knew that some Changelings did sire children with ponies and produced hybrids. She had friends who were of Changeling blood. If they only thought of ponies as food sources, they wouldn’t waste time courting ponies, right? It was ridiculous to think them all evil.

She had to know more, she determined. She’d find a book on them and get to the truth.

But unfortunately, there was no such book about the Changelings in her library. She groaned, placing the last of her texts back into its proper shelf, walking slowly over the immense wooden floors of the town library which doubled as her humble abode, plopping down before a desk and holding her head in her hooves, her dark purple hair draping down over her muzzle as she groaned slightly. “I sure hope Spike has alerted the princesses.” She insisted quietly to herself, thinking back to her draconic assistant, praying he’d delivered the letter already and would be back soon with the groceries and one of the princesses in hand.

Luckily for Twilight Sparkle, her patience was soon rewarded as the door opened up, a light purple dragon’s cheery green eyes glittering brightly as he walked inside with a large brown bag of foodstuffs, a pony with fur dark as midnight walking in, her hair like a flowing river that reflected the midnight sky, stars twinkling amongst each lock as she smiled warmly at her older sister’s prized pupil. “Twilight.” She said. “I had heard you wished for a tome on the Changeling race?”

“Princess Luna!” Twilight proclaimed, hopping up and bowing her head, trotting over to her as Spike put the groceries away. “How good to see you, your majesty! But…what exactly are you doing in TOWN, I thought-” She began.

“I was at my temple in the Everfree forest. There had recently been a small earthquake, and it made a cave previously buried within the confines of my training grounds open up. I had been been preparing for a future encounter with Changelings. Queen Chrysalis’s has been aggressive on the borders of the Griffon Kingdom, and the one you know as “Gilda” personally requested my sister and I’s assistance.” Luna explained, holding a regal and dark-blue-clad horsehoed hoof to her chest, bowing her head, her voice alluring and lovely as the moon on a soft summer night. “I felt saddened, though.”

“Why?” Twilight asked as Princess Luna took out a large tome she had in a satchel slung around her body, giving it to Twilight as she sighed.

“There had been…deserters left to die. In fact, many. By the time we got to them, most had died. There are a few currently being cared for in our medical wards, but they’re rather nervous about speaking to us and we’re unsure of how to treat them. But the good news is that they were able to roughly translate a few pages of the book I have here.” Princess Luna admitted to Twilight as she opened it up, looking over the pages.

“Why only a few, if you don’t mind me asking?” Twilight inquired, raising an eyebrow up.

“It is very ancient Changeling. The language evolved significantly over time. My sister hoped that her brightest pupil could take what HAS been translated and use it to translate the rest…” Luna admitted with a nod of her head. “It appears to be a journal of some kind of a Changeling singer from over 50,000 years ago.”

“50,000…and you say this was in a cave in the Everfree?”

“Oh yes. It had been buried in a box that was almost utterly rusted shut. I’m just glad it maintained its composition.”

“I’ll try to translate it.” Twilight insisted to the princess with a firm nod. “This book is positively ANCIENT, and…OOOOH, who knows what secrets it holds?” She whispered giddly, clutching the book to her chest, her tone excited and slightly hushed, speaking almost conspiratorially as she brought it over to one of the many bookshelves, her horn glowing more brightly as tomes about language ciphers and codes floated down to the ground below, Twilight scanning over the text in the journal.

“The author of this tome is…unusual.” Princess Luna admitted as Twilight poured over the pages. “And we have learned where he LIVED from the other Changelings who speak of an old city where a dozen races called home until the day the “Sky split open”. They said it had been the closest their race had ever come to a truly sedentary lifestyle until the act forced most of them to wander aimlessly and divide up into clans.”

“I’ll get to the truth, your majesty.” Twilight promised as she looked over the book, eyes narrowing intently. “I’ll find out everything I can about this book and the Changeling people. Those who can’t learn from the past, after all…”

“Are you SURE about this, Twi?” Spike wanted to know, nervously speaking up as Twilight glanced over in the little dragon’s direction. “I mean…they’re kinda the bad guys. They’re Changelings.”

“They’re PEOPLE. We just don’t understand them.”

“You can’t tell me you aren’t afraid of them!”

“Of course I’m…nervous…about them.” Twilight admitted. “But Chrysalis’s army CAN’T be all there is to the species. I mean…just listen to this.” She said quietly. “This first page begins so simply but so elegantly…”

“What?”

“
“The song is bursting from me today. It needs to be heard. On this, the last day of my old life…”

DELIRIUM

The sky was a shade of perfect blue, soft white clouds ambling overhead at the enormous amusement park as people sat in row upon row of finely-carved white marble seats, all of them looking on in interest at the brightly-clothed people on the stage before them. The sunlight cast soft rays down upon Collective, capital of New Hope, the proud seat of power for this bright new world. Not so much a melting pot so much as a mixed salad, a variety of species had settled within Collective, coming from across the country of New Hope to a faintly hilly region far beyond pearly mountains, to a place with gushing streams and thick, beautiful forests, where natural gardens lined almost every street.

Indeed, the land’s natural beauty had an appeal to it that somehow drew people from all walks of life. The old, the young, the rich, the poor, all were one in their admiration of the city on the hill and how it seemed to draw the best and brightest to it.

Collective. “Your best chance for a bright dawn”. Though the “Helios” Entertainment Amusement Park didn’t seem to draw the best and brightest of ACTORS if these handful of remarkably silly people on the stage were of any indication. All of them were Avians in a Medieval-themed play of some kind, a young Sparrow and a young Robin looking deep into each other’s eyes as they held taloned hands, eyes of deep brown looking into eyes of deep brown.

“My love. I am not a poor page, but the son of the king of Honoria.” The sparrow insisted, the robin turning away and looking pained. “What ails thee?”

“Oh, shucks, my beloved! It is my father. He would never permit our love.”

“Of this you are CORRECT!” An annoyingly-loud-mouthed kokkaburra bird with wild greyish/white hair snapped as he slowly emerged from a false panel on the stage, scepter held in hand as he wagged it threateningly at the sparrow, unaware his daughter was carefully reaching down with the one hand he couldn’t see…reaching to pull out a pin from her dress. “The Prince of Honoria shall ne’er marry my daughter. I’d rather DIE!”

“You got it, pops.” The daughter grunted, fake-stabbing the guy in the throat as he clawed at it, rasping and coughing and falling down “dead” to the stage, the sparrow and robin holding hands as a dog-like creature with stubby teeth chuckled at this along with his friends from the audience, the faint remnants of what appeared to be some kind of liquid dribbling down from his chin from a now-empty vial he had in his enormous paw.

“And now…” The sparrow proclaimed.

“We can live…” The robin cried.

“Happily ever after!” The two finished up, embracing each other as the stage below them lowered them and the “body” down, smoke rising up to obscure their exit as it magically formed into the words “The End”, people rolling their eyes as they slumped in their seats, several Equine citizens grumbling.

“That was NOTHING like the performances we see on the dailies.” One pony groaned as he looked over to the dark-furred, almost scaled pony next to him, a changeling with a thick body and slightly stubby teeth who had a large forehead and hooves, the Changeling nodded enthusiastically.

“I know, that is so true!” The changeling grumbled, tapping at his head as his face shifted slightly, his muzzle now perfectly resembling the robin’s. “You got it, pops”! So cheap. Did they forget their talent as well as their set designer?” He muttered out before his face popped back to normal, sighing as he patted his own cheek. “One of these days I’m gonna learn how to last longer than thirty seconds, I swear…”

“If the rest of you “Keobjil” types can’t do it, you won’t be able to either, Taro. Personally, I just want New Wave to come out and play already.” Somebody next to the first pony admitted, the first pony’s bright green eyes widening as he whipped his head to look over at the gryphon that was sitting next to them, the avian thoughtfully rubbing his bearded chin.

“You really want them over a recreation of your species most well-known love story?”

“The Honorian Saga’s usually a lovely tale, but these MORONS could not act wet in a thunderstorm.” The gryphon muttered. “No, no, New Wave is what I suspect everyone is here for. And Mr. Shimmer is whom I’M here for.”

“I know, right?” The green-eyed pony laughed happily as others looked over in their direction. “He’s so cheery and nice and he’s got the sweetest little smile…”

“And that VOICE. Hoo. I always hear such passion in it.” A female unicorn in the crowd nearby agreed, eagerly nodding her cherry-covered head as her fellow unicorn friend near her nodded in agreement.

“They’ve got the best production quality of all the bands.” A draconic being admitted sheepishly, nodding his scaly, large-crested head. “Even more than D-Force. But…well…there is that rumor…”

“Oh, yeah. This is IT for him, isn’t it?” The changeling sighed. “…no doubt he and his friends are getting ready for what’s sure to be a very deep, painful final performance.”

“Yes, No doubt they’re preparing themselves musically and getting ready as best they can…”

Meanwhile, backstage, things were absolutely hectic in the dressing rooms as an enormous group of Changelings milled about, anxiously chittering and chattering amongst themselves.

“Ohhhhh, I’m so nervous!”
“My hose has a run!”
“Is my bra on too tight?”
“Stand still or I can’t get the scarf on just right!”
“Oh, geez, look at this vest, the bottom is all frayed!”

“Y’know, I don’t even drink, but I think I’m going to NEED a drink.” One of them muttered softly, holding his head in his hands, dark blue hair flopping down over his brow as he clenched his deep blue eyes tightly shut, sweat slightly matted on the inky-black, almost scaly fur he had. His body shuddered nervously as his green, almost rounded wings fluttered behind him in the dark grey marble chair he was sitting in, the Changeling slowly opening his eyes as he looked at his reflection in the mirror, his thick locks slightly matted with sweat.

“Just be sure to remember you enter in the SECOND song, Shimmer. Then you can have a drink after the show, I promise.” A short-haired, kindly-looking and somewhat overweight Changeling insisted, waving a hoof in the air, a golden bangle through one of the several holes it naturally had in its legs, another through its slightly chewed left ear. “You guys are on in five minutes! Get it together. Don’t be nervous. You’re gonna KILL it, all of you.”

“He’s right.” Shimmer said, standing up dramatically, holding his hooves out as he whirled around, smiling broadly as he faced down the fellow members of his band, all of them clasping each other tightly and holding their heads to each other in a circular group hug wearing different vests, bras and belts of vibrant colorations to match the many shades of wings each had. “We can do this. We got Keobjil, Ilgagsu AND Nabang united, all the Changeling clans under one roof. And why?”

“Because that’s how we get the people to rock!” Their lead drummer proclaimed, the thick-formed “Keobjil” Changeling proclaiming, a brightly-winged and ornate-looking female Changeling eagerly nodding her head up and down as she cheerily clapped her hooves together over the bright pink bra she wore.

“And what’s our motto?” She insisted in her slightly buzzy, high-pitched voice.

“New Wave IS New Hope!”

“We ARE this city. Let’s remind them why our race got to where we are.” Shimmer proudly proclaimed. “LET’S GO!”

And with that, they all raced out of the changing room, heading for a secret doorway that would lead them out to the stage, the announcer greeting the people in the crowd, gesturing towards the entrance they’d come out from. “And so, please give a warm round of applause for your personal favorites and mine…NEW WAVE!”

…

…the train carried its passengers swiftly along, a gleaming silver bullet high above an emerald city past fancy signs broadcasting excellent restaurants and exotic nightclubs, apartment complex after apartment complex rolling by the window that Shimmer the Changeling stood at. A pair of headphones were placed upon his slightly spiky ears as he clutched them tightly to his head, lip-synching to the words pumping out as he slightly bounced his body along to the rhythm of the music. All of the others in the train had occasionally glanced over in his direction, an assembled litany of different “anthros” as they were known, animals who were more people than mindless beasts.

They were pretty sure they’d seen this pony somewhere before, but…they weren’t quite sure where. It could have been that some of them thought all Changelings looked alike, but no, that would be a very shallow, superficial thing to think! Nah, it was just…this Changeling had some kind of quality about him. Everything about him just seemed so…huggable. Like this young adult was lost in his own little world of rainbows and lollipops, an aura of cheeriness washing off of him in thick waves.

At last it came to a halt, and he hopped off, heading down the steps of the train station to the local grocery, cheerily waving to the butcher behind the counter as he placed a few dozen juicy-looking vegetables and fruit into his hand-woven grocery bag, adding a few cans of pet food as he strode over to the butcher. “Can I get a few pounds of fresh fish?” He inquired.

“No chicken?” Vallian wished to know, the thick-skinned serpentine inquired, his slit eyes looking Shimmer over.

“Ahhh, no.” Shimmer insisted to the butcher, waving a hoof in the air and blushing deeply. “I signed an autograph of a young chick who went up to me after my show, Vallian. I have his face stuck in my mind.”

“It’s not the SAME, Shimmer, they can’t even form a consonant. They all died LITERALLY looking up at the sky when it rained. I thought that was just an urban legend.” The ophidian snorted, resting his head on his beefy arms as he leaned over the counter.

“Nope.” Shimmer insisted again. “Tonight I’m going to have some homemade fishsticks and you’re not gonna convince me of getting anything else. I don’t suppose you’ve got dog meat? There’s these drunk little pups that were getting higher than a skyscraper during the show. I’d actually get back at them if I wasn’t too passive-aggressive for my own good.” Shimmer said with a wave of his hoof, bursting into laughter along with Vallian as he headed for the checkout aisle.

“You kidder. You really had me going until you got to that “passive-aggressive” remark. But y’know, if you ever DO get in the mood for dog…” Vallian said suggestively, Shimmer halting in place and whipping around before Val broke into the biggest s—t-eating grin of his life, snickering.

“Heh. Maybe YOU’RE the one who should be leaving his career to break into acting.” Shimmer chuckled as he trotted off.

“It’s fleeting, just a passing glimpse, only a tiny taste,
The faintest hint of something even better!
You may think you don’t need love to keep you going
‘til the sweet hereafter puts you in your place!”

“He should be giving this a try. I’ve never seen anybody act like this before!” The director had insisted to his manager, Carapace, the thick-bodied Changeling looking from his dear friend’s face to the dark-skinned gryphon across the table from where he was sitting at. There was a large white television screen with a larger still stereo system to Carapace’s left and Director Sirocco’s right as the gryphon enthusiastically nodded his tattooed head up and down.

Indeed, Shimmer was doing surprisingly well in the scene that was playing, curling up on a bed, weeping mournfully, blankets tightly bound up in his hoof as a supporting actor, a young-looking female gryphon, gently patted his back. “I can’t do it! I just can’t take it, Mina!”

“Out of all the people who tried out for this role, I never expected an oppa to be the one to sell this performance, but he brings a realism and honesty to it I’ve didn’t see in any of the others. I’m telling you, this is the best deal he’ll ever get!” Sirocco insisted firmly. “My fellow producers want her in the drama series I’m greenlighting.”

“He can act AND sing. Let him do both!” Carapace insisted, shaking his head back and forth as Shimmer held his hooves in his lap, nervously chewing on his lip as Carapace’s dark brown eyes glared back into Sirroco’s golden/amber ones.

“His schedule would mismatch.”

“Shimmer went through dozens of lessons in his free time away from school to become a pop star, not an actor!”

“Oppa or not, the producers all praised his acting.”

“What about HIS feelings, huh?!”

Shimmer slowly looked up, glancing from Sirocco to Carapace. “…I…um…”

It was a very special performance for Shimmer on that bright morning. A very special performance. Every single show brought something unique to it, something that was different and made it stand out in Shimmer’s mind, but this one? This one had a…somber miasma that rose off of him as he sang on the stage with his band, one hoof held high as he belted out the lyrics to New Wave’s most famous tune.

Watching from nearby, the grey-furred pony held up a hoof before him, Shimmer “fitting” on it neatly like a doll, sweeping about to the music as the pony giggled a bit, green eyes aglitter with delight. He’d been to every single one of Shimmer’s shows and had always gotten closer and closer with each one to the stage itself. Now he was in the front row…in fact, he was fairly sure he’d gotten glob of Shimmer’s sweat on him, which even now was trickling down his hand.

“I’ll never wash it again.” Hyacinth insisted to himself…before a can flew through the air, past his hoof to land near the stage, near his darling Shimmer. “Wh-what?”

“TAKE IT OFF!” One of the diamond dogs in the crowd proclaimed, Hyacinth the Pony growling darkly, eyes turning steely as the obviously drugged-up idiots giggled, one of them downing a vial of brightly-glowing moonflower juice, made to stimulate endorphins and provide a “natural” high. More often than not, it made you loopy, loosened your inhibitions. How had they snuck it into the amusement park, he wondered to himself as the song winded down and the band all bowed their heads, one of the lankier band members taking the microphone.

“Thank you all very much. It’s been a great concert, but we’ve only got one song left.” The female Changeling guitarist admitted.

“And before we do sing it, I’ve got news for everyone.” Shimmer added, rubbing his hoof against the dark green and jewel-studded vest he now wore. “Um…see…” He murmured out, a visible bluish blush coming to his dark cheeks as he scanned the crowd, all eyes on him and the stage. “…I, Tulamoon Shimmer, have had a wonderful time as a member of New Wave, and I’ve met some truly amazing people. I’ll always treasure my stint with this band, they’ve become my real family.” He admitted, wrapping his arms around the changelings to his right and left.

“Leggo, ya dirty little sasaeng!”

Shimmer stopped, everybody glancing over to the far right end of the audience. A grey pony was currently throttling one of the diamond dogs that had been being disruptive earlier…or rather, TRYING to, he was so weak he could barely hold onto the thick-bodied mutt as it glared angrily at him. “Gerroff you stinking-I’m gonna turn you into GLUE!” It hissed out, one of its friends, a slim brown-furred diamond dog yanking him back, Hyacinth the Pony being forced to let the leader go as he slammed his fist into the pony’s face.

THA-BAM! Again, again, again, again, the crowd gasping in disgust as red blood freely flowed from the poor pony’s broken nose as he glared back at the dog.

“I don’t like your face, uggo.”

“Then don’t LOOK at it.” Hyacinth snorted out.

“I’d rather change it. Ha-ha!” The diamond dog snorted, holding his bulky fist up before a chunk of chair shot through the air and whacked the dog on the head, making him yell and reel back…

Carapace ducking behind a trash can, pumping the air with his fist.“Yesssss!”

“WHO THREW THAT?!” The diamond dog growled, his buddies fur all bristling furiously. “Come over here and try telling me to leave to my face!”

“I think somebody’s got the right idea.” The gryphon whom had been eager to see the show earlier insisted to his friends, grabbing hold of his slightly-emptied soda jug, launching it through the air where it shattered across the diamond dog’s chest, other snacks and drinks flying as well at the diamond dogs as they picked up trash and began chucking it right back in a frenzy of thrown garbage.

“Dogs go home! Dogs go home! Dogs go home!”

“These old dogs need to be taught some new tricks!”

“We’ll see how brave you overgrown turkeys are when you’ve got your head split-”

“STOP IT!” Shimmer roared out, everybody stopping in place, all looking in his direction, surprised at the sudden, pleading yell…and at the quiet desperation in the Changeling’s voice. “I…just wanted to have a good time with all of you.” He mumbled out. “Everybody has the right to hear this. This city belongs to us all. Nobody should be unwelcome.”

“…if I wanted touchy-feely nonsense, I’d watch a daily of afterschool specials.” The leader of the diamond dog gang muttered, about to throw a half-full canteen only for Hyacinth to grab his arm, a dark, deep glare brimming from behind his now-blackened eye, slowly panting in pain.

“…let’s just go, Brock.” One of his friends said, the dogs all slowly walking off as Hyacinth turned to look back at the stage, Shimmer smiling warmly in appreciation at the pony.

“Thank you.” He told the grey-furred pony with a deep bow, slowly rising back up as he cleared his throat. “And thank you, all of you, for your years of support. It…it breaks my heart to-to say this…” He began to choke up, struggling to get the words out. “…but as of today th-this…this is my last show.”

Immediately, everyone in the crowd gaped, blinking in surprise, cameras of all kinds flashing brightly as people glanced about, scratching their heads or tilting them to the side in confusion and surprise.

“Whaaaaa?”
“Huh?”
“Really?”
“Why?”
“The heck?!”

“I’m so happy for my time here, and…and I hope you’ll all support me as I do my best as a rookie actor.” Shimmer murmured quietly. “This will be my last song. So…I hope you all will listen.”

“…Shimmer…will this TRULY bring you happiness?” Carapace murmured as he stood far off to the side, making his way back stage as others in the crowd looked at each other.

“Wow. Moving on up, huh?”

“I guess maybe he thinks he can do more as an actor than a pop music singer?”

“Hey, he’s never been about the money, you know that.”

“I’m not so sure I like this.”

“Let’s give it a try, huh?”

Shimmer looked about at the many audience members, seeing their differing reactions, and he felt a deep mournfulness rising up from his body like bile threatening to propel itself from his mouth, but though some tears faintly dripped out the edge of his deep blue eyes, he refocused on the task at hand, clutching the microphone in one hoof, the other held up as he softly crooned.

I was yours…though she was his…
The night we met out on that bridge…
And you knew then what I’ve learned now…
The love you give comes…back somehooooow…

Your gentle warmth was all I’d see…
And no one else has meant so much to me…
I looked once…then turned away…
When I looked again it was…much too laaaate…

The summer wind…blowing through your dreeessss,
That is how I’ll remember you best!
A ginger touch and a stoooolen kiss!
This is how I remeeeeeeember you best!

…

… “The metamorphosis is not supposed to be easy.” Shimmer insisted to himself, shaking his head back and forth, closing the door to his very cluttered apartment, putting the fish food on the counter by an enormous fishtank he had. “It’s not supposed to be something I’ll just “move on” from. But I can do this. I can DO this.” He mumbled, taking out chunks of flakes from the bag of fish food he’d gotten from the grocery store, sprinkling it into the tank as tiny little guppies of some kind of rainbow-tinted variety happily gobbled away the orange flakes that fluttered down to the bottom of the tank.

“I’m sorry lil’ guys, forgot to feed you yesterday. I can get so scatterbrained sometimes.” Shimmer apologized to his “Little Buddies”. He admitted tenderly. “You guys have so little to worry over. Sometimes I wish-I-wish-I was a fish.” He sang out before hopping onto the nearby bed with its plushy lime green comforter, head deeply embedded in the light blue pillow he had. He slowly but surely turned his head, looking across the room at the enormous poster he’d put up on the wall of “New Wave”, hesitating staring before giving out a soft sigh, shaking his head back and forth as he stood up. “Oh, guys…” He mumbled, bringing it down.

Goodbye to Shimmer the pop star. Hello to the new Shimmer, he thought to himself, putting the poster along with his other “New Wave” memorabilia in the corner of the room, most of which he’d already packed before he’d left for work. Looking down at the belt pouch he had around his waist, he opened it up, pulling out several fan letters he’d gotten in the mail and from cheery adulators after his final performance, going through them one at a time as he plopped back onto his bed. He momentarily glanced up at the wall of photographs of his old band members before looking back down at his mail.

Some of the letters were simple enough. “Please sing for us forever.” “I love you, man.” “I’d go gay for you.” “Please don’t let it end like this.”

“…c’mon, guys.” Shimmer sighed, putting the letters away. “…please don’t be like that. If I could just sing forever I would, but…I want to try something different, something new. And I know I just be a pop star forever anyway, I mean, once I hit forty I’d get sent off with a kiss and a “Daesang” award anyhow.” He tried to insist out loud, attempting to rationalize his decision. “Not that I didn’t enjoy getting a Bonsang during my second year with the group, I…I just need to do new things. Branch out. Be more than “Shimmer the Pop Star”.” He murmured, looking at the last letter, a light pink one with a big heart scribbled on the front. He opened it up, blinking in surprise as he read it aloud. “I’ve got a link to your room. Shimmer, I’m always watching you”. Wh-whaaat?”

He put the letter away, something “poofing” into existence over by his bedstand on top of a metallic frame where there were two separate piles of scrolls, one in a pile labeled “Read”, the other “Unread”. Trotting past some books that were lying around on the floor, Shimmer the Changeling picked up the latest letter on top of the “Unread” pile, looking it over.

Ah. His mother was writing. She’d just seen his last show. “I remember when all you talked about was wanting to sing. I know this is a big chance for you, I’m sure, but I’d been looking forward to your latest single. Are you so sure about this metamorphosis?”

“Oh, mom, don’t you get this industry?” Shimmer sighed. “Pop stars these days are becoming more and more flash-in-the-pan than ever. I was surprised my first album didn’t become passé by nightfall.” He chuckled, another letter suddenly popping onto the pile with a burning “poof”. No matter how many times he saw it, he always loved that cute little “poof” sound effect that the Dragon Delivery System magically sent to every household in the city. Grinning a bit he opened up the newest letter, looking it over.

He paled.

The word “Traitor” had been scribbled over and over on the page, and it had been gripped so tightly Shimmer could see the crease marks where the author had held onto it, furiously writing in letter after letter, each one dripping with malignant intent.

Traitor.

TRAITOR.

“…what…?” Shimmer murmured, thinking back to the first note…

. “I’ve got a link to your room. Shimmer, I’m always watching you.”

I’m.

always.

Watching.

You.

Identity

The Changeling sat in the corner of his little room, a fluffy white and blue flowered bed to the side, with a small desk with quill and paper to the other side, and a little stack of books perched upon said desk for the ornately-winged Changeling to read. He was far smoother in his design, almost sleek and slender for a Changeling, with faintly compound eyes glittering as brightly as the room’s light off his butterfly-esque wings. Indeed, his wings were the only thing that was, by Pony standards, pretty. The were similar to that of a Luna Moth’s, broad and with a soft, elegant pattern to them, a soft texture which the Changeling was, amazingly, allowing the “race traitor” to feel as Twilight stood off to the side, looking from the journal in her hooves to the Changeling and the half-Changeling who was stroking the wing.

“We appreciate your assistance in providing some translating for this journal.” Twilight said calmly as the “race traitor” stepped back, translating for Twilight as the loathe-to-be-touched-again Changeling slightly “harrumphed” before sitting down on the bed, wings fluttering shut as he flopped down onto his back. At least they assumed he was a he. It could be…difficult to tell with Changelings. He SOUNDED like a he.

“She would like to ask you about these terms. Ilgagsu, Nabang, K-” The changeling-blooded, blue-haired young stallion asked, his slightly alluring eyes looking over the changeling as it turned to look right at him, pale blue into deepest blue.

“Clan titles.” It muttered. “I am an Ilgagsu. We are looked lowly upon by other clans for how “Pony-like” we are.” It…HE chuckled out, shaking its head back and forth. “Because our wings are pretty That is all your kind care about, isn’t it? That’s why your kind LOVED to mix and pollute your blood. You just wanna be PRETTY.”

“You’re lucky we didn’t-! SOME of us would have speared you when you tried to surrender.” Shinedown T. Mare snapped back, the changeling-blooded stallion looking irritated. “Just because you’re a Changeling! But we were willing to give you a chance to explain yourself. Why did you declare war on us?”

“We were HUNGRY.”

“Go to Griffon Grinders and eat a burger.”

“Oh, but I have NOBODY to wear!” The Changeling chortled as he stood up, putting a hoof on its chest as it slightly shifted, its form becoming that of a Pegasus with deep brownish/black fur and faintly pale blue eyes before shooting back to its normal form. “It isn’t like it used to be so many centuries ago in New Hope, when our kind were respected for our talents, when the appearance of a Changeling meant adoration and admiration. Now we are feared. Hated. In ten minutes I would stick out like a sore thumb without feeding on somebody’s positive emotions. Such feeding is required for us to maintain our ability to change forms.”

“He says that his species comes in different clans. He’s an “Ilgagsu”, they’re very good at flying. And evidently Changelings need things like love and friendship to power the ability they have to shapeshift.” Shinedown translated to Twilight, the unicorn noticing the Earth Pony’s irritation as he rubbed his chin, brow angrily furrowed.

“Besides.” The Changeling went on. “We do not have gold, these wings do not come with pockets. Evolution did not see fit to provide us with POCKETS. When our species first developed between the Ghainahm and the Sugnbohn families, neither side ended up with POCKETS at the end of their development!”

“…wait. He just said they have separate families too!” Shinedown translated quickly, eyes widening.

“You don’t even know your own species history, race traitor?” The changeling asked of the blue-mohawked stallion as Twilight walked over to the Changeling, who slightly flinched as she stared directly into her eyes, as if feeling she was staring squarely into his soul.

“Tell me about the families. Tell me everything you can.” She asked as Shinedown quickly translated, the Changeling hesitating before finally letting out a deep sigh, head hanging low as he spoke, the changeling-blooded stallion translating for Twilight.

“It was on the anniversary of our kind’s birth in Equestria, eon upon eon ago, that it occurred. A shift in the paradigm of power 35,000 years ago resulted from what we called “The Joining”. Where once had the King dominated, now we had a queen in equal power. And 5,000 years after that, the Great Schism, when the King and Queen separated and his people left our clan. The Ghainahm left, the Elitists no longer one with us, the Sugnbohn. Where they went, we are unsure…we’ve heard they mingled with your race, slowly dying off as a “pure” species, save for the king, and even he has passed from this world.”

“Do you know his name?” Twilight asked.

“His name has been lost to time and lost to us. You are lucky I am willing to tell this to you. Most of my kind are only to give our name, rank and file number.” The changeling told them, waving a hoof in the air. “The days of old were glorious…it was so much better when all respected our skills, when we embraced not a lie, but a dream of something better, a hope for…” He trailed off. “…that hope is all but gone now.”

“If you stopped attacking our cities and our friends, we’d let you live among us.” Shinedown offered sympathetically. “We’re really VERY tolerant people for the most part. And we’ve been working hard on accepting those with Changeling blood into our culture.” He added, putting a hoof on his chest. “I mean, look at me. I’m head of the Peacekeeping Council of Special Investigations for all Equestria. Ten years ago that would have been unheard of.”

“Things change, is that what you’re saying?” The changeling asked quietly. “I do not deny Ponykind has been tolerant towards rac…mixed bloods.” He mumbled, seeing Shinedown giving him a “Don’t use that term” look. “And your kind could end up becoming just as tolerant towards purer breeds. But I do not wish to simply not be persecuted. I do not wish to simply be an aspect of your tolerance. I wish to be a true citizen of a true nation, with the full rights that entails, to be second to nobody else. And the fact is…as your kind are now…you wouldn’t give that to me. Would you?”

“…what IS your name?” Twilight gently inquired as the Changeling momentarily stiffened before chewing on his lip.

“Daisu.” He murmured back. “Naityo Daisu of the Naityo Crest.”

“…thank you for your help.” Twilight said, bowing her head deeply as she left the room, Daisu blinking slowly as Shinedown walked out with her, confusedly staring after her before moving over to the desk, picking off a book from the top of the pile and looking it over the “Changeling Edition” of a very popular tome…

“Daring Do and the Temple of Doom…?”

…

… “He seemed to be telling the truth. Though he clearly has a deep cultural predisposition to be suspicious and to think lower of ponies.” Shinedown admitted as he stood with Luna’s temple deep in the Everfree Forest, the Princess of the Night nodding firmly at her student as he continued. “Evidently my “type” are Changelings who separated from the rest of the main herd thousands of years ago. They were led by a king, whilst the rest stayed loyal to the queen.”

“What do we know of these two different types?” Luna wished to know.

“I believe that the writer of this journal was a “Ghainahm”.” Twilight said. “He speaks of having HAIR. Except for CHRYSALIS, how many Changelings do you know have HAIR?” She asked, holding the journal up and smiling proudly. “And from how the Changeling treated us, the farther away they are from looking like ponies, the more highly a Changeling is apparently thought of.”

Luna paced back and forth in the deep, starry walls of the private training grounds of her secret temple, the magically-painted walls of the temple revealing slowly-revolving stars as galaxies passed by them. She furrowed her brow, deep in thought before speaking up once again. “I can understand. Their whole existence is founded upon stealing the lives of others…anything, ANYTHING that reminds them that they are them, that they are CHANGELING, not pony, not Griffon, not Diamond Dog…anything that lets them know they are their own kind is embraced. They still try to maintain a kind of identity all their own.”

“They must think everything about their species will never be more than an echo of others. It’s…so sad.” Shinedown murmured quietly. “And they KNOW that. That’s why he spoke so lovingly about the past culture, about New Hope. It was a time their race was so BELOVED. When did that change? WHY did that change?”

“The ancient histories tell that the sky opened up, and New Hope was lost. Perhaps something in that journal will elaborate upon both points.” Luna wondered aloud as Twilight’s horn glowed brightly and the journal hovered before her, the unicorn nodding enthusiastically.

“I’ve been working hard at translating this, Princess Luna. I’ll get to the bottom of it. Right now I’m at quite an interesting part. They’re speaking of technology I’ve never even HEARD of before. They had a draconic delivery system like what Spike does for us and other assistants who know the art of the Green Fire know, but they took it even further than that with this “Source Wall”.” Twilight said excitedly.

…

… “Ahhh. Warm and toasty.” Shimmer said cheerily as he held up his hooves before the Source Wall located at the far end of the studio’s main shooting room, Carapace looking over the letter that Shimmer had gotten, a pained expression flickering over his well-set face before he turned to Shimmer and sighed.

“Do you even know how the Source Wall works? Look.” He said, pointing with a beefy hoof at the top right-hand corner of the Source Wall as the glowing magical wall glimmered. “SHIMMER’S ROOM.” He announced, that part of the wall letting off a faint musical harmony before it displayed the unmistakable image of Shimmer as the smooth and well-built Changeling he was well-known for playing as a member of New Wave, bits and pieces of trivia and personal data on the “Ghainahm Style” Changeling being emblazoned below in tiny burning letters written by a seemingly invisible hand on the wall. “See? This fan I met, he asked if he could create a “BBS” all about you, and that allocates a part of the Source Wall’s infinite space to telling other fans all about you!”

“The dragons are so clever when they wanna be, don’t you think?” Shimmer admitted as several ponies walked by with recording equipment, cameras and microphones, smiling over in Shimmer and Carapace’s direction. “Can you believe it, a way to connect everybody to each other in every public building in New Hope! If only our concerts could be played on this. Say, could…could I possibly get a small one for MY room?”

“Of course, but you’d have that request put in to the Draconic Delivery System.” Carapace insisted, waving a hoof in the air as the director whistled sharply, Sirocco nodding over at him as he handed Director Maghreb the script he wanted. The zebra took it in his hoof, looking it over as his brow slightly furrowed before glancing at the unicorn and Pegasus lead protagonists that were the big stars of the scene, who quickly made their way before the cameras, onto a set that resembled a pale whitish/yellow hallway with enormous window after window. Specifically, a hospital hallway, all sanitized and clean. The only thing gritty and grimy appeared to be the “hardcore” unicorn walking alongside the Pegasus pony as she brushed her long, thick black locks slightly to the side, the camera ready to capture her and her partner.

“On the count of five!” Director Maghred announced through his loudspeaker, all the camera men taking point, the grips holding the microphones in JUST the right places to be above the camera’s field of vision, but close enough to the actors to capture every proper hint of emotion and suspense their words carried. “Four! Three!”

Soon the scene began to play out, Jillian the Pegasus and Anderson the Unicorn speaking to each other about a recent murder that the two were investigating. “So you’re saying that the murder victim’s, Rei Flecht…he had a baby brother? And he’s HERE in the hospital? Why were we not informed sooner?”

“Young Eiko was only just picked up last night. And he’s been in treatment centers for his condition.”

“Condition?”

“His family has issues with mental illness. He doesn’t want it manifesting, so he’s been taking steps to nip it in the bud.” Jillian murmured as she stopped, hanging her head slightly as her tone became quiet…thoughtful. “…Anderson.”

Anderson halted, looking back at her as her eyes became grey and steely. “Yeah?”

“Do you know why the culprit peels the skin off of his victims?” She asked of him.

“I thought he got some kind of sexual stimulation.” He assumed with a nonchalant shrug.

“No. He wants to become one.” Jillian said swiftly, waving a hoof in the air. “…be it a woman, or…” She trailed off.

“CUT!”

“OOOOGH.” Jillian moaned out, holding a hoof over her head and shaking it back and forth. “Fer the love of all that’s good, that was HARD getting that tone jes’ right, I tell you what!”

“Look at her.” Shimmer whispered as he rested his head in his hooves, sitting on a nearby chair, the script in his lap as Carapace right next to him. “Jill’s amazing. She becomes a completely different person when that camera’s rolling for the dailies.”

“OPPA!” The director cried out, the zebra’s dark red face paint faintly glistening in the light of the studio as he turned to Shimmer, who immediately sat up. “You’re up!”

“You nervous?” Carapace asked. “I mean, it’s only one line…”

“I can do this. I know I can.” Shimmer said with a firm nod, brushing his dark blue hair back with a hoof before trotting off towards the set, Carapace looking over the script as Shimmer took his position in a “patient’s room”, having now finished with a “check-up” according to the script.

“How do you think our star actor’s going to do?” Sirocco asked with a cheery smile as he approached Carapace and sat down, taking a long drag from a cigarette made of moonflower pollen, which wasn’t nearly as strong as moonflower JUICE.

“I’m sure our little idol’s gonna be fine. Anybody good enough to win a Bonsang award is good enough to be a recurring character in a daily.” Carapace reasoned as Shimmer placed his hooves together, quietly repeating a line over and over.

“Please…tell me who I am. Please…tell me who I am.”

The spotlight faintly glimmering above him…a hundred people speaking at once, and yet all focused on something else, be it the next lines in the script, the direction of the cameras, readying a power line or sipping some soda from a jug…nobody seemed to be looking at him but for the faint familiar figure in the far back, the grey-furred pony looking squarely at him before Shimmer turned to see somebody was walking onto the set.

Oh! It was the writer, a Earth pony with deep, luscious pink skin and hair that flowed straight down around her head to halt at her neck, a pair of shiny glasses glittering on her face, pearly white in color like the quill “cutie mark” that indicated her special talent on her flank as she smiled and waved at the director, Mister Maghreb nodding as the other actors said hello to him. “Good to see you, Moore.”

“How is our star performer?” He asked of Anderson as the male lead gave her something of a nervous look.

“Your lines are kinda…hard material. And you’re sorta dumpin’ the audience right inta it. Maybe we oughta eaaaaase them into this kind of subject matter so they ain’t, y’know…so they’re not put off?” Jillian reasoned, waving a hoof in the air as Anderson nodded.

“Yeah, it can be jarring for an audience to go from pleasant moments between coworkers to talking about people getting SKINNED.” He added. “What next? The murderer is going to be dancing around in front of a mirror asking himself “Would you fuck me? I’d fuck me. Fuck me hard”?”

“That’s BRILLIANT!” Moore proclaimed, quickly pulling out a notepad from a belt pouch she had on and scribbling down what she needed onto it from an enchanted quill she had resting behind her ear. “I’m telling you, the audience just loves this kind of stuff. You gotta give the people what they want!” She said as the director took notice of something that was being wheeled over to them by a draconic assistant with deep red scales.

“To be fair, your performance after the murder scene HAS gotten us quite a few fan letters sent here already.” Director Maghreb chuckled as the dragon held up a stack of letters, the zebra noticing a very bright pink one at the top. “Oh. This one’s for our newest star, young Shimmer. Heh. This’ll be good for the kid.” He chuckled as he took the letter, Jillian raising an eyebrow into the air.

“What about the criminal? We’ve had a stand-in, but neither the audience nor the crew here know whom you want to be the REAL murderer. All we’ve got are hints, and it could still be anyone.” The pony murmured at Moore as she shrugged.

“That’d be spoiling the surprise.” She insisted, walking off with the director who held the letter in his mouth, giving Moore a “Well, what ABOUT what she just said” look. “I know, I know, I have to actually come up with a real murderer, not have a stunt pony doing everything. I haven’t made up my mind yet…” He muttered as they approached Carapace and Sirocco. “Hey. Somebody found out your young star’s working here. And I must say I’ve heard very nice things about him.”

“So will he be getting more lines then?” Sirocco asked in a slightly wheedling tone as Maghreb gave Moore a slight jab in the side with his elbow, Moore waving a hoof in the air.

“Woah, woah, relax! We’ll make more use of Shimmer, believe me.” She insisted quickly. “The problem is that he’s a pop star…”

“Not anymore.” Sirocco said, Carapace frowning a bit, looking rather pained as he slightly hung his head. “We want to give him a drastic image change, too.”

“We’re ready for the take!” The camera crew cried out as the director handed Sirocco the letter they’d gotten, Sirocco looking it over with obvious pleasure as he showed it to Carapace, Shimmer lowering his head as Jillian and Anderson took their places by the bed on the set they would be shooting the next scene at. “Everyone’s in position?”

“Please…tell me who I am. Please…tell me who I am.”

“And we are rolling in five! Four! Three!”

Shimmer raised his head, mouth beginning to open-

THA-BANG!

“SKREEEEEE!!!” Sirocco’s screech tore through the studio, the sandy-haired, dark-feathered griffon howling in agony as he clutched his burnt and bloodied clawed hands, the letter having exploded as he opened it up, Carapace knocked to the floor, gaping in surprise as the other people in the filming studio looked around at each other and the scene of horror that had just shattered the calm around them.

“Sirocco! SIROCCO!” Shimmer screamed out, racing to his side, kneeling down by him as Sirocco panted and heaved, looking up at Shimmer as Carapace wheeled around, yelling at the crew to call a medic.

“I’m…alright.” He mumbled out before his head flopped to the ground, Shimmer taking notice of the chunk of letter that had flopped to the ground in a small pool of Sirocco’s blood, the words becoming soaked in deep, dark red.

“…warning you…next time’s for real.”

…

… “…oh, Sirocco…” Shimmer murmured softly, shaking his head back and forth as he sat upon his bed, Carapace stepping away from the newly-installed miniature Source Wall that Shimmer now had in his room. It shimmered a pale blue, like ice made of flame instead of frozen water as Carapace rubbed his brow, nodding in approval of his own skill in getting the source wall in JUUUST the right place. The hard part wasn’t getting the Dragon Delivery Service to send you one. The problem was getting the enchanted frame around the source wall they magically teleported in so the flames of the Source Wall wouldn’t accidentally set your place on fire.

“Well? Do you like it?” He asked as Shimmer crawled off the bed and plopped down in front of the source wall as it gently hummed, its soft warmth spreading through the newly-refurbished room Shimmer now had. His fish were on top of a large desk to the right of the source wall, all the wallpaper was now painted to resemble a starry night sky with a fake “solar system” display as a lighting fixture hanging from above, a little something Carapace had come up with. For a manager, Carapace was startling good with his hooves.

“Oh, absolutely!” Shimmer admitted as he grabbed his light blue pillow off his bed and wrapped it around his stomach. “I just…well…I mean…Sirocco?”

“You think we should have called the police.” Carapace asked, tilting his head slightly to the side as Shimmer enthusiastically nodded.

“Well, yes. I know the director insisted everyone not say a thing, but I don’t think it was just a PRANK. We should go over to the Peacekeeper Headquarters and make a report.” Shimmer added as Carapace sighed. “I mean, that letter WAS meant for me.”

“Sirocco agreed with the director. It was just a prank.” He said with a shrug. “…BUT! If anything even remotely close to that DOES happen again, I’ll go down with you to the Peacekeepers myself, alright?” Carapace reasoned, Shimmer sighing as he nodded, Carapace gesturing at the source wall. “Now, you remember how to use this?”

“…um…uh…I ask the source wall for the name of the BBS, right? And it’ll display it here?” Shimmer inquired, pointing at the source wall, Carapace chuckling a bit.

“It’s really easy…here, I’ll explain it again…”

Later that night, Shimmer was in a cute little set of deep green beddy boxers, sitting in front of the source wall as he sucked on a tiny little blue ball, a tasty liquid seeping out and into his mouth as he slightly suckled upon it. Pure sugar. MMMM.

Still…not enough. He sighed, turning his head away from the source wall, which had brought up the BBS of “Shimmer’s Room” and stood up, slightly trotting to the side of the room, turning on his own room’s television screen, turning the dials to the necessary channel. Number 3, of course. And it was right around 10:00, so that meant that…

Yes. It was starting. An ACTUAL performance of the “Honorian Saga” that wasn’t abysmal, played out in the way it was meant to be. The young princess was weeping openly over the dead body of her mother, her father standing off to the side, a young page nervously looking in to the room from the far end as the father slowly approached and put a wing on the little robin’s shoulder.

“My daughter…there comes times when absolute sadness grips your heart and you feel nothing will ever break you free from it. I’m sure you’d like nothing more than for your father to make everything better. But your father is a weak, weak, man.” He admitted quietly, Shimmer sucking some more on the sugar ball, eyes widening. His favorite part. “But I promise you. I will always BE here. Confused…maybe even just as sad as you…but there.”

With that, the daughter deeply embraced her father, the two openly weeping over the loss of the queen as the little page looking into the room slowly closed the door upon them, whispering softly to himself. “I will take your tears away one day. Please wait for me…”

As the music swelled, Shimmer deeply inhaled, putting the sugar ball down as a tingling, pleasurable sensation rose up in him. He wrapped his hooves around himself, breathing in deep as the sorrow and mournful emotions rolled into him, instilled from the daily playing on the television set. For a changeling, it was as refreshing as taking in a deep breath after eating a mint and almost as erotic as being stroked in the most personal of ways. It was only the simulation of emotions, true…but it was just enough to keep Shimmer’s shifting powers going and add to his reserves. Not much. But enough.

Letting out a final sigh, he turned the television off. He turned back to the source wall, seeing somebody had created pictures of him for others to look upon, all pictures of him as a pop star. The changeling smiled at this, rubbing the side of his face. “Awww.” He murmured. He really had truly loved singing. Even if his “family” were nourished by negative emotions unlike the Sugnbohn, he liked the warm fuzzy feeling that came from knowing others were happy. Being in a drama would no doubt do wonders for his shapeshifting ability, but…still…the spotlight that now shone on him didn’t have that soft warmth it used to.

“I made a choice.” He finally said out loud. “I’m an actor now. I’m moving up. I just hope my fans understand that.” He wondered aloud, looking over an entry in the BBS. “Hmm. Whomever’s behind this really knows me. They must have been to all my concerts…oh, that one.” He blushed as he read over one of the entries on the BBS. “I screwed up my lyrics a bit. Nobody noticed, but I feel so sorry for all my fans. It all started when I got off the train left hoof first. I always go RIGHT hoof. I know it sounds crazy, but it’s those little things you do, the “superstitions” you carry that really can make or break your day.”

He chuckled a bit. “Sheesh, somebody REAAAALLY knows me.” Shimmer admitted, though his brow furrowed a bit as he read the next entry. “On my way back home, I went shopping at the usual store. The ophidian talked to me about maybe getting dog meat. Vallian can be quite…the…card…”

The changeling’s eyes widened, his voice becoming a quiet whisper as a chill began to sneak up his back and he continued to read. “But…I decided to stick with a few pounds of fresh fish…” He rubbed his eyes, gaping slightly at another entry. “The 15th…I couldn’t believe Jillian’s performance in “Manifest”. It’s…like she becomes…a completely different person w-when that camera’s rolling f-for the d-dailies…” He stuttered. “…how does this person know so much about me?!” He gasped out.

And then he saw it. A tiny little changeling face, one of several that faintly imitated his own spread out like bullet points beneath that entry, under a tagline reading “Hear Me!”

“…the…first one?” He nervously murmured out to the source wall. “Wh-what’s it say?”

““Please…tell me who I am. Please…tell me who I am.”

“…HOW…?”

Please…tell me who I am.

PLEASE…TELL ME WHO I AM…

PLEASE…TELL ME WHO I AM…”

Violation

“Fascinating…” Twilight Sparkle whispered as she continued to scribble down translation notes into her special notepad as she sat with Spike at the town’s local diner. Poor Twilight’s eyes were slightly bloodshot from having been up all night writing more translations of the ancient Changeling journal, and she wasn’t even blinking. In fact, one eye was actually involuntarily twitching.

“Twilight, are you so sure this is…a good idea? I mean…” Spike began, nervously tapping two clawed digits together as the waiter brought them some food, nervously flinching as he sniffed the air around Twilight, quickly shimmying away as fast as he could. “…that is…”

“What?” Twilight asked.

“You’ve been up all night. You haven’t bathed in two days. I just…I think you’re kind of wrapping yourself in a life that’s not your own, and it’s taking you OVER.” He insisted, the little purple dragon shaking his head back and forth as Twilight sighed, putting the Changeling journal and her translation notepad down as she put her hooves on the table and munched away at some rolls they’d been given.

“I’ve missed sleep, have I?”

“Well, yeah. And remember when I brought you that plate of vegetables for you to eat? You dipped the carrot in an inkwell and began scribbling with it. Then after I told you were using a CARROT, you bit into it. And SWALLOWED. Spike deadpanned, folding his arms across his chest and shaking his crested head back and forth.

“I suppose this need to learn more of Shimmer’s story has gripped me too tightly.” Twilight admitted. “I am mostly finished with the translation of the journal, though.” She added with a nod as she spread some butter on the nice, warm rolls she’d been given, taking small, deliberate bites of the roll as Spike chewed on one of his own. “To finish my project, I’ll go and visit the land where New Hope once was, the land where the “sky opened up”.”

“The sky opened up…” Spike rubbed his chin, thoughtfully looking up into the air. “…how many magic spells can make an entire city disappear?”

“None. At least, none that could be performed by a single unicorn. If we got everybody in town to contribute, sure, but…why would over a thousand people get together to make their town vanish from out of nowhere?” Twilight reasoned. “Especially when they’d been doing so well economically and socially!...okay, MOSTLY well socially…” She added, nervously tilting her head down and cringing a bit as she rubbed the back of her neck. “…well, actually maybe not so well.”

“Whaddya mean?” Spike asked. “They didn’t have slaves, did they?”

“Oh, CELESTIA, no, that’s barbaric. Absolutely inexcusable. Royal Law prohibits the ownership of any kind of slave or indentured servitude as part of the Magna Libertarum. No, it’s just...” She held the journal up, patting at different sections of it with a hoof, a concerned, almost…frightened look on her face. “The people always had something of an odd series of interests. And it appears that as more and more weeks passed, the interests got more…lurid. Unpleasant.”

“Sleazy?” Spike asked, raising a scaly eyebrow up. “I know you’d said that Mr. Shimmer felt sad that people singing silly love songs were, themselves, looked upon as silly. That the kind of thing was outdated. But did they really go in the opposite direction?”

“I don’t think it’s all their fault. It’s the culture. Times change, people feel the need for things that are new and daring, and to them, all of this was new and daring territory. It fascinated them, excited them.” Twilight reasoned as she tossed some bits onto the table and got up, taking her books with her as she and Spike headed back for the library. “So they stopped being interested in pop music and got into dramas and murder mysteries. Their concern became more about what was “edgy” and “more adult” because they felt that having those interests made THEM look more sophisticated. But…I think it just helped play into the worst parts of them. They start to take things too far.”

“HOW far?” Spike wanted to know. “…come on. What exactly did they make him do, STRIP?” He chuckled, Twilight flinching as Spike immediately felt his cheeks flush and he waved his hands in the air. “Woah, woah, I didn’t…they what? They actually…WHY?”

“…the things people do to be considered “real actors”.” She mumbled. “To be considered “real artists”…what a laugh.”

…

… “Please…tell me who I am.”

“You don’t remember? You’re Eiko Flecht. I’m Dr. Jillian Featherfall. This is my associate, Anderson Abernathy. I was your brother Rei’s psychologist, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” “Dr. Jill” said as she shook the “patient’s” hand on the set, Shimmer the Changeling sitting in a bed in a patient’s gown as the cameras captured all at the director’s behest. “We wanted to check in on you, see how you’re doing, we know your amnesia is becoming troublesome-”

“Ma’am! Ma’am, there’s been another attack!” An extra exclaimed, running onto the set from the “door” to the next room, waving his hooves in the air as Jillian, Anderson and Shimmer turned to look at the “orderly” that was panting and out of breath. “A diamond dog’s been hurt, almost skinned! He’s barely clinging to life!”

The three looked around at each other, Shimmer blinking slightly, and for a brief moment, a dark, terrible chill seemed to stab deep into his heart.

“CUT! That’s a wrap for this scene!”

“Ugh.”

Carapace the Changeling groaned, the thick-bodied Keobjil changeling cringing as he held his head in his meaty hooves, shaking it back and forth as Sirocco nursed his wrapped-up hand a bit, frowning over at the manager. “Ugh? Whaddya mean “ugh”? She’s got three shots in her first appearance.”

“That’s just what I MEAN. She went from the star singer in a cheery pop band to a bit player in a drama that has all of ONE line.” Carapace complained as he banged his head against the table they were sitting and watching the dailies at, a run of the show playing on the nearby stereo system surround sound Sirocco had installed next to his own private Source Wall. “This is what Shimmer gave up his dreams of being a singer for? Doing…THIS?”

“I admit it’s not very classy of them to follow up a scene about somebody struggling to regain their identity with a gory close-up of a Diamond Dog who’s skin on his lower body has been peeled away.” Sirocco said, shutting the television set off, the gryphon flinching at the excessive blood on the screen. “But do you know how hard it is to get a role in an up-and-coming drama series like Delirium?”

“I understand all of that…it’s just…” Carapace murmured quietly, tapping his hooves together as Sirocco brushed the sandy feathers atop his head back.

“Lemme guess. “We should be selling Shimmer as a pop star and have him be an oppa again.” He asked with a deadpan expression, moaning as he leaned back in his chair. “He needs to prove himself and establish credibility as an actor. Times have changed since YOU were a pop star, Carapace.”

“…I knooooow.” Carapace admitted as he slumped in his chair, his eyes closed tightly as he cringed. “I know, I know, I KNOW! But don’t pull the “Darn kids gerrof mah lawn” stuff upon me. Excuse ME for not surviving as a singer!”

“Well those who can’t do, manage those that do. Look at me.” Sirocco laughed with a high, slightly squawking series of chortles. “It’s a sad state of affairs Carapace, but pop stars don’t really appeal to the masses with the same kind of innocent charm they once had. We inevitably wait for them to flame out in a blaze of debt, drugs and death. It’s like watching a train wreck. Horrifying, and yet you cannot look away.” Sirocco added as he took a swig of some hard cider, smacking his beaky lips and frowning a bit as his voice became softer, and quieter. “But I admit, it would be nice if they’d use Shimmer a bit more. And soon.”

“There is SOME good news!” A brightly-winged Ilgagsu changeling cheerily announced as she and the rest of “New Wave’s” current line-up entered the meeting room at their producer and manager’s headquarters, holding up a magazine that read “Billboard’s Top 50” and tossing it onto the table. “Would you believe?”

“What is it, Rumi?” Sirocco asked as he opened it up, eyes widening at the page that had been specially highlighted. “…well HELLLOOOOO! What! Have! We! HERE!”

“What’s going on?” Shimmer asked as he stuck his head into the room, taking notice of his friend’s cheery faces and the “Billboard Top 50” magazine on the table. “Wait…you mean you made the top 50? Despite our fans, we only got as high as 75.”

“Yeah, we got 45.” The drummer laughed happily, patting his fellow musicians on the back as Shimmer smiled at the sight. “Pretty amazing, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. I’m so happy for you all.” He complimented. “You’ve gotten so lucky.”

“We can do this. We got Keobjil, Ilgagsu AND Nabang united, all the Changeling clans under one roof. And why?”

“And what’s our motto?” She insisted in her slightly buzzy, high-pitched voice.

“New Wave IS New Hope!”

“We ARE this city. Let’s remind them why our race got to where we are.” Shimmer proudly proclaimed.

“…yeah. Good job, you guys.” Shimmer murmured, turning around and leaving the room, head hanging ever-so-slightly. “Keep up the good work.”

…

… “Did you get a chance to see it?” The thick changeling with a slightly stubby teeth inquired of his friend as he and the rest of his buddies entered Vallian’s side of the local grocery, having picked up a few magazines and now interested in picking up a few pounds of meat for lunch. Taro’s scaly dragon friend sighed, hanging his long-crested head, deep red eyes slowly closing.

“Yeah, I saw it. “Delirium”. Poor ol’ Shim, he’s got, what, four scenes in the latest episode?”

“Three. And it’s better than two weeks ago when the show STARTED and he only had ONE scene and three shots. Still, it was so…boring! Do all the psycho thrillers have to end that way?” Taro mumbled.

“Somebody’s gotta do something to save poor Shimmer.” The dragon admitted, taking notice of a nearby newspaper that a rather odd-looking pony was looking over. One part had been cut out of the front page. “Er, buddy, you sure you’re allowed to do that without buy-”

Hyacinth held up his receipt…and then the article he’d cut out. “Diamond Dog’s Damage echoes “Delirium” Daily Drama”. Evidently one “Brock the Diamond Dog” had been terribly skinned beginning from the waist down and he was barely clinging to life in the local hospital from what the dragon could tell. The grey-furred pony chuckled a bit as he looked the article in his hooves over, sighing almost wistfully as he trotted out of the grocery, Taro shuddering.

“Some PONIES.” He mumbled. “…though if life was gonna imitate art, why couldn’t it be more like a porno? At least then we’d get to see some action.”

“Don’t give Director Maghreb of “Delirium” ideas!” His draconic friend Heimdall groaned out, slapping his face and tugging down on his muzzle.

…

…Shimmer made his way towards the exit of the train, hesitating for a moment as he prepared to step off, thinking back to what he’d read on the Source Wall. “It all started when I got off the train left hoof first. I always go RIGHT hoof. He cringed a bit, almost loathe to step off the train before the flow of other people getting off swept him along and he raced down the steps that led up to the train station, making his way towards the street and back home to feed his “Little Buddies”.

He halted at the intersection, stopping in place as he looked up at the sky, rubbing his eyes a bit. For a moment, he thought he’d seen…had that been a stitch mark in the sky slowly opening up?

…ugh. He needed to get a grip. This wasn’t the drama. There were no special effects flying around the room, though-

…there were cameras. Heh. An electronics store across the way showing television screens that were displaying what cameras in the front window were now catching. And what the cameras in the window were catching was him.

“Man, even outside the studio I can’t…” Shimmer murmured. “Never thought I’d be GRATEFUL to get away from cameras pointed at me, and yet…why did I feel jealous over-get over it, Shimmer. You’ve gotta get over it!” He admitted as he made his way down the sidewalk towards his apartment complex, careful not to step on any cracks. “They say if you step on a crack, you shall break your momma’s back!” He sang out, trying to think more cheerily as he bounced his head back and forth, dark blue hair flopping about before he took notice of the cameramen stationed by the front entrance to his apartment complex. He nervously gulped a bit, unsure if he really wanted to talk to them as he trotted towards the complex, noticing a familiar grey face he’d often seen at his concerts with “New Wave”.

“Good morning, Shim! We’ve got so much to ask you!”

“Tell us how things are behind the scenes?”

“Please, what have you been doing?”

What was he going to say? He had overheard what Sirocco and Carapace had spoken over not too long ago. Were these people just interested in a potentially self-destructing former artist? There seemed to be an unusual hunger in their eyes that imitated his own whenever enjoying a daily that gripped his attention. “I’m fine, really. My biggest worry these days is whether my fish are fed…” Shimmer said with a shrug, making his way past the cameramen as they tried to take pictures, looking briefly into Hyacinth’s eyes as he nodded at him, Shimmer heading for the staircase and climbing up the first flight before noticing something was taped to the guardrail of the stairs. A newspaper article.

Wait a minute, Shimmer thought to himself as he picked it up and looked it over. Brock the…hadn’t he SEEN this diamond dog somewhere bef-

“…let’s just go, Brock.” One of his friends said, the dogs all slowly walking off as Hyacinth turned to look back at the stage, Shimmer smiling warmly in appreciation at the pony.

Shimmer shuddered a bit, slowly turning around, only Hyacinth remaining as he smiled slightly, waving his hoof in the air before calmly trotting off, leaving Shimmer holding the article in his hoof, which slowly and surely tightened hard around the scrap of paper…

…

… He sat down on the park bench, Carapace happily getting to work on something that made Shimmer tilt his head. “What’s that?” The changeling wanted to know, the beefy manager who was currently making a “cameo” in “Delirium” holding up what appeared to be a van of some kind.

“Just a little something I’ve been making from building blocks. It is a miniature recreational vehicle.” Carapace, who was playing a homeless friend of “Eiko Flecht” for today, informed the young changeling.

“My brother Rei always said you were good with your hooves, Mister Mizaki. So what’s IN the van?”

“It’s transporting several expectant mothers who are obsessed with the villain from “Brocky IV” from the tip of Southern Collective to a country across the Great Sea over in Southeastern Community whilst enjoying a fine meal of fried food and frozen waffles.” Carapace explained as he held the little R.V up. “Try to grab it!”

“Grab it?” “Eiko” asked as he took it in his hoof.

“Leggo my Eggo-carrying Lego Winnebago full of preggo fans of Drako en route to Equinegro from Canyon del Fuego whilst they’re eating fried potatoes!” Carapace proclaimed as Shimmer laughed and laughed, wiping a tear from his eye, catching the attention of a very attractive-looking young pony who was walking some distance behind them towards a fountain. She took notice of Shimmer’s rather musical laugh and his lovely dark blue locks, an intrigued glint coming to her eye as he patted Carapace on the back, talking to his friend about his recently deceased brother “Rei Flecht”.

“It’s good to remember the bits and pieces I do. It’s a terrifying thing, y’know? Not remembering who you are, losing sight of the person you used to be.” Shimmer sighed as he sat back in the park bench, leaning against it and looking up at the perfect blue sky above…only for a cheery pink pony to stretch into his field of vision.

“Why, good morning to you, good lookin’!” She proclaimed. “Are you currently represented by an agent? Would you be interested in becoming a model? You’ve certainly got the looks for it.”

“Is that why you’re three inches from my head?”

“I don’t want to look away. I’m already lost in your eyes. And you know what they say!” The pink pony giggled out. “If you get lost, stay put!” She chuckled. “So how about it? Come in and meet my staff, see where I work…”

“…hmm.” Shimmer rubbed his chin, a thoughtful expression coming to his face as the pink pony stepped away, clasping her hooves together as she flopped to the ground on her knees before him.

“Oh, PLLLEEEEAAAAASE?”

“CUT! Good job, Desdemona, good job indeed!” Director Maghreb said of the pink earth pony as she stood up, brushing her light white hair to the side and nervously rubbing the back of her neck.

“I didn’t overdo it, did I?” She asked, a small crowd having gathered behind the cameramen and at the far reaches of the area they were filming in, none taking notice of one particular grey-furred pony who was capturing all of this on his handheld video camera. “I was worried I might be overdoing it.”

“Haven’t I seen that changeling before?” One of the onlookers murmured to another.

“That Ghainahm Style member? The one in the white shirt and shorts, y’mean?” The gryphon asked as he turned to his diamond dog friend, Brockford. Yes, a LOT of Diamond Dogs were named Brock or “Brocklyn” or the like. Blame the “Brocky” boxing drama series for popularizing it. It was much the same way so many other Diamond Dogs had named their children after the famous doggy general whom had repelled a manticore offensive against Collective 53 years ago. Duglas McArthur had delivered a total rout and slain 19 manticores until the Collective Army had arrived to assist his Diamond Dog Emergency Platoon.

Yes, sure, “McArthur” was a nice name. But try telling that to Brockford’s sister, Dug.

“He DOES seem familiar.”

“I gotta tell you, next week’s script is amazing.” Director Magrheb said as he spoke to Moore, the pony’s shiny glasses glittering in the bright light of day as she tapped a pencil’s eraser end against her little notepad. “I didn’t expect any of that. You’re definitely getting better, Moore. And more racier, too.”

“Well if the slop is good, the pigs’ll eat.” She said as she trotted off the set with the director, giggling a bit. “And what I’ve got in store for the next script after that will blow your mind, let me tell you! Although…” She hesitated slightly, tilting her head to the side and shaking it back and forth. “Not so sure if our newest star will like it. Or rather, not so sure her MANAGER won’t blow a gasket over it.”

“Why, what’re you writing?”

“Well, you see…”

…

… Shimmer looked the script over, holding it in his hooves as he read the lines in his head over and over, eyes carefully scanning the page as Carapace GAPED at the same script before him, Sirocco holding his own copy in the air and gesturing at it with his finally-healed hand. “So in this episode, Shimmer’s character, Eiko Flecht, completely changes personality and begins to lose hold on reality after she’s raped by the customers at a local strip show.”

“A RAPE SCENE?!” Carapace practically screeched out. “Are you BUCKING HIGH?!”

“It’s pivotal, Carry. Shimmer becomes more than just a recurring character, but a co-star. In fact, the key character the plot of the drama series revolves around.”

“Pivotal?! Shimmer’s a singer, not a STRIPPER!” Carapace snapped as he grabbed hold of a nearby mug and crushed it in his hooves with a dark growl. “You want him whoring himself out like this?” He snarled, Shimmer drawing in a deep, long breath, drinking in Carapace’s pure rage and horror like a fine wine. It was rolling off of his manager in waves like he was in the middle of an emotional TSUNAMI.

“The art crew is getting antsy, we’re several days behind schedule and they need an answer. How will it look if we start complaining now that we’re halfway IN to the show?” Sirocco reasoned. “To have the key figure in the second half just drop out? Where are they going to find another person to take his place who has his acting talent? His unique skill in invoking passionate responses from the audience?”

Carapace looked like he was going to cry, his lips slightly pouting, a shudder going through his body as he shook his head back and forth. “No, no, no, no, no, Sirocco! We should talk to the director. Get this changed. NOW. This is unbelievable!”

“Because what? A stallion can’t be raped?” Shimmer spoke up, sighing a bit before putting the script down on the table, his friends from New Wave peeking into the room from the hallway, flinching a bit. “I know you’re only trying to protect me, but it’s alright, Carry. I’ll do it.”

“But Shimmer…it’s our job to protect you from things just like THIS.” Carapace said, gaping slightly in surprise.

“Hey now, this sort of thing is common for actors of our time to do. Look at that gryphon actor, Sarah Tobias. I mean, she had to squawk like a chicken for HER role.” Sirocco admitted as Shimmer held up a hoof.

“Shimmer, do you realize just what they’re asking of you?!” Carapace murmured in amazement.

“I know. I KNOW. But I’m an actor now. I made the decision and that’s what I’m going to do. I mean, it isn’t like they’re REALLY going to rape me, right?” He asked of them all, putting his hooves in his lap and chuckling a bit. “Though I guess my parents are gonna be pretty surprised to see the next episode, heh…heh-heh…” He trailed of, sighing slightly, a mournful expression flitting across his face. “Anyhow, I’ve got to give this my best shot.”

“Shimmer…” Carapace mumbled out.

…

…Shimmer stood alone on the train, sighing as he turned his back to the windowed door of the train car, mumbling to himself, thinking back to what the meeting had been about as he rubbed the back of his neck…thinking of what he was now on his way to do, all the way across town to the South side of New Hope.

Was this honestly what he should be doing? Should he really be…

Then again, they were behind schedule as it was, and the director trusted him to do this. But Carapace’s face…it had been so torn up and horrified. Was this right?

“It’s no use worrying about this.” Shimmer insisted to himself as he folded his arms across his chest, shaking his head back and forth, blue hair flopping about as his reflection in the mirror stared back at him, a dark glare stretching across its face, the vest upon its chest bright and shimmering.

“I ABSOLUTELY REFUSE TO DO THIS!”

Shimmer yelped, twirling around…but the altered reflection was no longer there. He panted a bit, holding a hoof up to the surface of the window, slowly running his hoof down it as he nervously looked around the train. It was empty. Nothing was there. Just like nothing had been there in that reflection. He was just seeing things. He’d be fine. He’d be fine.

He could handle this.

…right?

…

…the night was clouded over, the air thick and humid outside of the fake nightclub the film crew of “Delirium” were shooting in, an almost nonexistent wind blowing through the air as the necessary actors took their places. Shimmer would be atop a stripper stage that led out on a catwalk before a deep red curtain, hundreds of small lights lining up and down the fake stage with a disco ball shimmering high above spotlights beaming directionally down upon his head. The “manager” of the strip club was putting on his tie, Shimmer now dressed in a very slim, smooth outfit designed to show off every curvature of his body, a gold earring clipped onto one ear with every single hole on his Changeling frame filled in. He was now sleek, smooth and suave, dressed in a lovely-looking and soon-to-be-discarded deep blue sleeveless suit that had the faintest light blue sparkles placed with precision all around it, each one combining to form a suggestive image of a lovely set of ribs.

The air was somewhat sweltering inside of the fake nightclub, but that would just serve to make the scene more believable, along with the many discarded alcohol and moonflower bottles lying about the ground near the stage, director Maghreb turning to his editors with a firm nod as he sat in the control booth with Sirocco and Carapace behind in chairs, the two smoking cigarettes.

“Well? Looks good, doesn’t it? Get the mood lighting JUST right. A perfect shade of blue…it will suit the atmosphere so well.” Magrheb insisted, the zebra rubbing his hooves together with a big, broad grin, Moore leaning back in her chair, looking VERY, VERY pleased with herself. “Too bad we couldn’t get a real nightclub.”

“Considering what we’re shooting...” Sirocco began to say as Moore rolled her eyes.

“I know, I know. But look, this will come out amazing, believe me. It helps that our star is so young.” The dazzlingly beautiful pink-skinned Earth pony insisted firmly, scribbling down in her notepad as the fourteen or so female ponies that made up the “strip club audience” stood around, waiting for the director to give them the okay to get in place.

“Everyone ready?” The director called out over the installed PDA system in the fake nightclub, all of them nodding as Shimmer clung tightly to himself, murmuring quietly and taking in deep, deliberate breaths.

Don’t freak out, don’t freak out, you can do this, Shimmer. You can DO this.

“SCENE 48! The manager is dragged down and Eiko Flecht is assaulted by the inhabitants of the strip club! TAKE ONE!” The director roared out as everyone got into position, the sleazy, grinding, pulsating pop music playing as “Eiko” began to position himself suggestively, slowly turning his hair back, carefully wheeling about to show the ladies in the audience aaaall they wanted as he did careful, deliberate stretches across the stage, whooping, hollering catcalls filling the air.

“Oh, yeaaah, YEAAAH, that’s like it!” One pony cried out, waving her hoof in the air as Shimmer leisurely removed his horsehoes, one of the girls catching it and deeply sniffing it as Shimmer smiled seductively at the ladies.

“More, more!”

“Take it off! Take it ALL off!”

“Ooh, he sure loves to please.” The director said in the control room as Shimmer began to remove more of the outfit, soon only wearing his shirt and the tiniest set of tight-fitting pants you could have possibly found. “Guess it helps that we got an ex-pop singer, eh? Oppas sure are good eye candy.”

“AAAA! G-get off me! Leggo, leggo!” “Eiko” yelled out from the stage as “the manager” of the night club tried to whack away female ponies who were climbing atop the stage, trying to grab hold of Shimmer and tug him down as his eyes bugged out in terror, his hooves digging as best they could into the stage. The director snarled angrily, smacking one of the ladies on the head as one of them grabbed hold of his leg and tugged him down, and THWOMP, he slid off the stage as Shimmer desperately swatted at the grasping women around him. “HELP! Somebody help me, somebody-”

Somepony grabbed hold of his arm and he tried to tug it loose, falling flat on his behind as the women around him saw their chance. Now they were all around, leering down at him, a few licking their lips in eager anticipation.

“It’s been so very, very long.” One of them whispered.

“So long since we could enjoy ourselves like this.” Another added as Shimmer’s shirt was stripped from his chest and he began to shake madly, sweat pouring down his brow.

“No! NO! N-NO, get away! NO!” He cried out, one of the women grabbing both his arms, the female unicorn leaning over him. Thick, dark purple fur obscuring his view, her…her breath, it…it smelled like vodka and milk…

“AND CUT!”

Everybody stopped in place as Shimmer took in deep, deep breaths, heaving slightly as the women in the “audience” looked up at the control booth. “Hold your places! We’ve got to get the cameras and the lighting set. Wait for it. Wait for it.”

“Hey.” His “attacker” murmured as Shimmer looked up into her deep indigo eyes, a nervous, mournful expression reflected in them as indigo stared into deepest blue.

“Yeah?” Shimmer asked.

“…I am so…SO sorry for this.” She whispered back, biting into her lip, shaking it back and forth. “SO sorry.”

“It’s alright.” Shimmer said gently. “I understand.”

“Right! Next up, the rape scene!” The director announced. “TAKE ONE! And…ROLLING!”

Shimmer screamed and hollered, shaking his head back and forth, cringing as his attacker held his head in one hoof, looking down at him. “Don’t make this harder on yourself!” She hissed, Shimmer let out a gasp as his crotch was rubbed by the pony’s thick tail only for him be silenced as the slightly wet lips of the purple unicorn were pressed against his own. The pony’s thick, hard tongue rubbed against his as it pressed deeper into the kiss, only for the kiss to be broken as the unicorn sat upright and looked down upon him with an animalistic gaze in it’s eyes. It chuckled a bit, the ladies in the audience letting out a collective “WHOOOOO” as it grabbed one arm forcefully placed his hooves on her firm breasts. They felt so very...warm. The unicorn began to rub it’s crotch against his own as it tilted it’s head back and let out a happy sigh.

“St-stop…” Shimmer whispered out. “P-please, I…please…this is-”

“Oh come, now. You’re going to enjoy this almost as much as we will.” His attacker informed him in a slightly teasing, “matter-of-fact” fashion. “Let’s not deny him any more, ladies.” She said as she grabbed hold of her pants, all the women cheering and hollering, pumping their fists into the air. “Let’s get it started!...dammit, stupid…ZIPPER!” She groaned out.

“CUT!” The director cried out as everybody halted again, Maghreb slapping his face. “What’re you doing?”

“The zipper’s stuck.” The unicorn said apologetically. “Hold on. I’ll fix it.” She said, tugging at the zipper, finally unstucking the thing and giving the director a nod. “It’s taken care of.”

“Good, Jodie. Now we’ll begin again. TAKE TWO.”

Everyone readied themselves again as Shimmer deeply inhaled. He was ready, he was ready. One…two…

“ACTION!”

His shorts were undone quickly and yanked off to finally release his manhood…in reality, a fake one, a “strap-on” that looked remarkably realistic…to the cold air “ Ooh. Quite a proud male you are.” Jodie chuckled as the women eyed his pulsating meat in hunger as Jodie began stroking it. Shimmer shuddered a bit, biting into his lip, looking away and cringing.

“No…no more, no, no, please, NO…”

He felt the female unicorn’s slip over his manhood and he was soon writhing as his entire length was taken into the warm mouth of the pony. Another one grabbed his head, tugging him down and giving him a deep and thorough kiss after rubbing his head against her breasts, her tongue swirling around in his mouth as his shaft was suckled upon by the unicorn. He felt his underside behind teased by the unicorn’s tongue before it slowly pulled off it, licking its lips.

“I think he’s ready.” Jodie chuckled. Shimmer could feel his length gripped by the naked unicorn’s guided towards her hot wet slit which rubbed against it once more and wetting his own lower region. “Enough toying with him.” His length was instantly enveloped in the tight inner walls of the unicorn’s, pressing deep within it and squeezed tight beyond belief.

“GAHHHH!” Shimmer screamed out. “Y-Y-OU! STOP! NOOOO!” He cried out as the unicorn began to pull out and slam back down on his length, the woman going up and down on his manhood, flexing the unicorn’s womanhood around it with a deep, roughly brutality.

“Well?” One of the audience members asked as the others flitted and giggled, others cheering and crying out in joy.

“He feels GREAT, gals!” Jodie gasped out, gripping “Eiko’s” chest as she began to thrust harder and harder down upon him. Beads of sweat formed on his head as Shimmer became lost in the pleasure. “Unlike anything I’ve ever had!”

“If-if you d-don’t s-stop I’m-I’m gonna…I’m-I’m gonna…” He stammered. “Stop! I-I c-can’t…UUUAAAAHHHH!”

“Ohhhh…yessssssssssssss…”

Desecration

DELIRUM:
Desecration

“Jeez. I mean…JEEZ.”

Twilight sat by her assistant, eyes wide as she looked down at the journal in her hooves, Spike reading over her shoulder as he looked upon the translated pages she’d crafted.

“That’s…I mean, WOW, Twi! They really…I mean…REALLY?” He asked, barely able to believe his own eyes. “He actually agreed to a rape scene?”

“I TOLD you.”

“I thought he would have backed out of it!” Spike said quickly, shaking his little head back and forth and clinging tightly to his light purple body. “I mean…EWWWW!”

“It isn’t like those ponies actually did it. But…yeah. I do feel he did sell out.” Twilight murmured quietly as she shook her head back and forth, looking down at the journal as the wind went gently through her long indigo mane, the scholarly Twilight flinching a bit as she continued to read. “He goes on in excruciating detail. There’s so much suffering in every line, and…some of the words are blurred. He was crying when he wrote about this.” She reasoned, tapping a hoof against the page.

She and Spike had begun their travel to the coordinates where the city of New Hope had once been, making their way out of town upon a long trek through the Everfree Forest. They’d stopped at one of the few wide open clearings within the woods to sit down upon a tree stump and read more of the 50,000 year old Changeling diary, but now Spike was finding himself wishing that they HADN’T. The more they learned about the culture of the Continent of Collective, the more they discovered of the ancient Changeling ways, the more repulsive elements they continued to find. The casual disregard the Ghainahm family Changeling Shimmer had developed for his own pride in the name of being a “serious actor”…he seemed to have sacrificed his self-respect just for the sake of being “edgy” and “avante-garde”.

“Is this the only time it happened?” Spike asked. “Please tell me he never had to do anything else like THAT.” He begged, clasping his hands together and shaking his head rapidly back and forth.

“I wish I could. But he brings up this painter…” Twilight murmured nervously. “Very famous, very skilled…very sleazy.” She trailed off, closing the book shut with a THUD and placing it into her knapsack as she looked at Spike. “There’s something else in the story that worries me. He keeps mentioning seeing something in the sky. A stitch marking, like somebody was slowly ripping the sky open. I think he might have begun seeing the beginning of the end of the city and he didn’t even realize it.”

“If he wrote down this journal and got it away from where New Hope was, he obviously wasn’t THERE when the city just up and vanished.” Spike reasoned. “So then…why would he run away?”

“Yes. Why indeed…” Twilight murmured quietly, chewing on her lip. “…and just what happened to him? And to that city? The more I read about it, the more I find myself filled with this unease and dread…”

…

…having to sit through the scene had been…uncomfortable…to say the least…for Sirocco the Gryphon. He gave an almost baleful glare over at Director Maghreb, wishing that the zebra could spontaneously combust if he glared at him hard enough.

“Let’s get it started!...dammit, stupid…ZIPPER!” The female pony that was “raping” Shimmer the Changeling groaned out, an exasperated groan filling the air from everyone else, the director included.

“CUT!” He cried out as everybody halted again, Maghreb slapping his face. “What’re you doing?” The zebra demanded to know of Ms. Jodie.

Maghreb clapped his hooves together, the scene beginning again as Sirocco held his head in one clawed hand, cringing. “Good, Jodie. Now we’ll begin again. TAKE TWO.”

“Oh geez oh geez oh geez oh GEEZ!” He grunted as the scene began to play out, shaking his head back and forth.

“If-if you d-don’t s-stop I’m-I’m gonna…I’m-I’m gonna…” Shimmer stammered. “Stop! I-I c-can’t…UUUAAAAHHHH!”

The gryphon turned his head, hearing what sounded like faint gurgling noises. “Ugh. This is hard for me to…Carapace?” Sirocco’s question died in his throat as he saw Carapace’s eyes were tightly clenched shut, tears trickling down the large cheeks of the Keobjil clan Changeling as his hooves dug into his sides. Carapace was weeping quietly, but uncontrollably, not even trying to halt the free flood of tears pouring onto the ground below as the rape played out. “…Carry…” Sirocco murmured mournfully as Carapace ran from the room, slamming the door shut behind him as Sirocco held his head in his hands, slowly shaking it back and forth as the scene finished.

For Shimmer, he felt the unicorn pounding into him again and again, his mouth slightly hung open as she continued to “make use” of him for the scene, the women in the “strip club” hooting and hollering as his eyes drifted up to the disco ball above. Light spun rapidly around the room, their roars and cries filling his ears as he slowly shut his eyes and just…waited for it to be over. He allowed himself to think of the first time he had ever appeared upon the stage, of thousands clapping and cheering, all eager to hear New Wave’s first concert.

Blinding lights and cheering faces, hundreds clapping at once, his name echoing like a chant. He could feel the waves of pure joy and admiration riding off of them. Though his family didn’t feed of off love, there was an exhilarating, satisfying high that came from this experience. Almost erotic. Almost spiritual. Something on a different level of reality, the sudden awareness that every single being before you is just waiting for words to come from your mouth. Waiting for your song. Waiting for you.

For you…

…for ME…

Shimmer…Shimmer…SHIMMER, SHIMMER, SHIMMER, SHIMMER-

The deed…

…was done.

…

… “Oyaaaaah.” Shimmer groaned out, flopping into his chair in his dressing room at the studio, arms weakly limping over the silvery/blue armrests, dark blue hair matted with sweat as it hit his forehead with a TWHUMP every time he raised and lowered his head to take deep, long breaths. “So…tired…so very…very tired.”

“You did good, kid. You did real good.” Sirocco complimented as he clapped his hands together, patting Shimmer on the shoulder and giving him a comforting smile as Shimmer looked up in the mirror to smile back at his former Director and current Agent’s beaked face. “I’m sorry Carapace isn’t here. He just…got up and took off. He looked really sick. And…well, thing is…”

“Yeah?” Shimmer asked, eyes closed as he took in deep, slightly rasping breaths.

“…Shimmer, I…I mean…”

“…uh huh?”

“…how about…I take you out to dinner?” Sirocco finally asked, rubbing the back of his neck and giving the deep blue-eyed changeling a comforting smile. “My treat? I mean, you’ve been working so hard at this, I think you’ve earned it.”

“Oh, I’d LOVE it!” Shimmer said happily, clapping his hooves together as he rose up from the chair and headed out of the dressing room, walking down the long dark grey hallway past a bathroom to make their way to outside.

“I’ll even let you ride me.”

“You sure you can handle letting me go piggyback?”

“I haven’t lost EVERYTHING with age!” Sirocco insisted with a chipper, squawking laugh, clapping Shimmer on the back as they headed for the doors…unaware of the grey pony that slowly pushed the bathroom door open, peeking after the two. The grey pony that held a video camera in one hoof. The pony who saw all…knew all.

Later that night…he would have some choice words to speak.

“That director. That WRITER. Both so screwed up!” Hyacinth said as he spoke to his special Source Wall in his room, sitting on a bean bag chair, nothing but the light of the Source Wall illuminating his face, all the room cast in an eerie, faintly white glow. He folded his hooves across his chest, shaking his head back and forth, sweat drops flying all over the “New Wave” carpeting he’d set down, pictures of Shimmer the Changeling plastered all over the room like makeshift wallpaper. A pity the things weren’t PADDED. “What an ugly, ugly state of affairs. Truly singing in front his fans was Shimmer’s true destiny!

Speaking OF, Shimmer was finally returning back to his room. He opened up the door, letting out a yawn as he made his way over to his fish tank, picking up the fish food from off his desk and tapping on the glass. “Hey there, Little Buddies. Shimmer’s got some treats for you tonight! I know it’s not as nice as the sugar-covered apples that I got to enjoy for dessert with Sirocco, but you guys know sugar makes you…huh?”

Something was wrong. The fish weren’t moving. He tapped on the glass again, his brow slightly furrowing. “Guys?...Little…oh no. OH NO.” The changeling whispered, his eyes widening slightly as he realized their eyes were wide open, but unseeing…floating aimlessly in the water, dead as a doornail.

With a loud, screeching wail, he TORE the curtain down from his windowed balcony, tossing it across the room, his hooves then slamming into the desk, knocking it over as he screamed and yelled, things flying across his apartment like a miniature tornado was touching down. Shimmer ripped the bed sheets in two, sobbing intensely, covering his head as he finally flopped down onto his now-empty mattress, openly weeping, not wanting to stop the flow of tears.

“Of COURSE I didn’t wanna do it! Of COURSE I didn’t’ want them doing that! What was I supposed to SAY?! Everybody was counting on me! I couldn’t let them down after coming this far! I’m DIRTY…so dirty, dirty, DIRTY!” He screamed, rubbing fake dirt off his body over and over as he writhed on the bed like a dying fish that had been tossed into a boat.

“Heh-heh. I tried to tell you.”

Shimmer’s eyes flew open as he immediately sat up, looking to his right at his reflection in the windowed door to the balcony outside, one bright and vivid, wearing an all-too familiar and flashy vest.

“I mean, is that REALLY the kind of career you want? It’s the pits.” The virtual Shimmer remarked, laughing softly as Shimmer let out a scream, tossing a pillow at the reflection. With a THWUMP it struck it, sliding harmlessly down…

The “virtual” him gone, leaving only his panting face with tear-strained cheeks…and…his fish. His fish were moving around in their tank…alive. Unharmed.

Clean…

…

… “That particular scene? Oh, yeah, I mean…wow. I was really nervous about it at first. I’d be lying if I told you I wasn’t uncomfortable doing it. But I saw it as a hurdle I just had to overcome if I wanted to become an actor.” Taro and the gang read out loud in “New Hope News’s “People” section. There was a large article in the newspaper on the drama “Delirium”, specifically an interview with its up-and-coming actor, Shimmer the Changeling.

“The ratings really went up.” Heimdall murmured to the others as Taro rolled his eyes.

“As usual, the public at large are droolin’ troglodytes. Let’s see what else he says. “I’d like to be recognized as an actor. But my time with New Wave taught me so much. It was a truly great experience in its own way, and I’ll always be grateful to them. I wish them nothing but the best.”

“I don’t mind. Rumi was always my personal favorite.” One of the gang admitted with a chuckle as they left the grocery store, none of them aware of Hyacinth, who was just down the aisle, the newspaper clenched tightly in his hooves as he turned it over and over, gritting his teeth. He looked mad enough to rip the newspaper into shreds.

And that was exactly what Hyacinth began to DO once he’d finally purchased it, letting out a frustrated roar as the clerk nervously gulped, Hyacinth plodding angrily out of the grocery.

That night, Shimmer was sitting before his Source Wall, looking it over as he sat on his bed, tilting his head to the side as he read through the entries.

“In so many words, tell us what your day was like “Today I was still a little depressed, but receiving letters from all of you yesterday made me feel a whole lot better”.” Shimmer rubbed his head, a confused expression coming to his face. “Wait a minute. I didn’t GET any letters yesterday. What…?”

He leaned in, getting a closer look at the Source Wall. “Take me to the next entry! TODAY’S.” He asked of the Source Wall as glowing letters burned into being on the wall, Shimmer reading it over slowly and carefully. “It’s awful. Please help me everyone…they’re forcing me to do it! It’s all the screenwriter’s fault! Help me, please! Help! Help! Help! What? WHAT?! I…” Shimmer gaped in surprise, sitting up from the bed. “But I’m not writing this!”

“Of course you’re not!” The virtual him said, popping in back in the reflection he normally saw in the windowed balcony door. That same cheery smile. The soft light bathing off his body. The flashy, bejeweled vest, the glittering eyes…it was just like he’d seen before! “The REAL Shimmer is writing it!” The virtual Shimmer said, waving a hoof around in the air and laughing. “I know deep down in your heart you wanna be a pop singer again?”

“But I’m…I’m no longer-”

“No longer WHAT?” The Virtual Shimmer asked, putting a hoof up to his ear, tilting his head slightly as he leaned in a bit, Shimmer reeling back, shaking his head back and forth as the Virtual Shimmer joyfully laughed. “Oh, riiiiight! I almost forgot! You’re no longer a pop star, right? Nobody wants to fill the world with silly love songs anymore! Not that you could even if you wanted to. You’re filthy, like a slut.”

“N-no, th-that’s…” Shimmer whimpered, holding his head in his hooves, cringing as the tears came to his eyes. “That’s not true! I am NOT filthy!”

“Nobody likes a star with a tarnished reputation. You remember the first time you appeared on the stage? You’ll never be able to step back into that spotlight again. But that’s alright. I’M here. I’ll be in the light, and you’ll be in the shadows where you belong!” Virtual Shimmer said as he hopped backwards, passing through the window to the balcony as Shimmer gripped the blankets beneath him, hooves tightening their grip.

“I am NOT TARNISHED! I’M NOT, I’M NOT, I’M NOT! This isn’t HAPPENING!” He screamed out, seeing the Virtual him hop off the balcony. He raced to the door, yanking it open, gaping in surprise as the Virtual Shimmer hopped from roof to roof like a dainty flower flickering along in a spring zephyr, slowly fading from sight as Shimmer held his hooves over his mouth, taking deep, pained breaths, his body shuddering and shaking. “…I’m…I’m not…” He sobbed out. “…I’m noooot…”

…

… The beautifully deep pink skin of Moore the Earth Pony contrasted hard with the ugly dark grey of the train station around her. She’d been too late to catch the last train and now would have to take the tunnelways home. Muttering to herself, she made her way across the complex towards the elevator, past large column after column which was used to hold the central docking platform of the train station up. “Next time, set my clock EARLIER.” Moore said out loud to herself, wondering if perhaps she should just purchase her own chariot and have, perhaps, an Earth pony charioteer drive her around the way the director had one. In fact, he was rich enough to afford TWO in case the first-

She stopped, sniffing the air. Something was off. There was a foul, malodorous stench filling the air. Following the rank odor, she eventually turned the corner, noticing that there was an enormous series of wooden planks set up in front of the main entranceway to the tunnels that the Diamond Dogs of New Hope had set up all through the city, in the event the trains were of no use to anyone. Who would take the time to put enormous wooden planks in front of the main entry?

Probably the same person who’d splashed pig’s blood all over said planks, waited for enough of it to dry, and then painted out the words “You FILTH” in big, capital letters in the blood. She frowned darkly at this…

And then stiffened. Something else was wafting through the air as she whipped her head left and right, hearing…MUSIC playing. Somebody was playing a miniature stereo that was broadcasting “New Wave” music through the air.

“Hello? Who’s there?” Moore called out, her eyes widening behind her glittering white glasses as she nervously made her way towards the elevator door, deciding to take THAT to the tunnels. For a brief moment the music seemed to stop. She took in a deep, nervous breath, glancing left and right again as she looked around the facility, listening intently.

Finally, when she was satisfied she was alone, she pressed the elevator button to bring it up to her level, sighing slightly as she hung her head, turning away from the elevator. “I’m going out of my mind.” She mumbled.

Before the music started up again, getting louder and louder with each passing moment as Moore stiffened, her head whipping left and right as she looked around. Where was that music coming from? What-

Then she realized it was coming from BEHIND her, wheeling around and gaping in surprise at the stereo that had been left on the floor of the elevator, scratching her head in confusion.

“It’s fleeting, just a passing glimpse, only a tiny taste,
The faintest hint of something even better!
”

…

…soft footsteps running far away. A faint “PING” filled the air as the door slid shut, then open again, continuously opening and closing on the stereo again and again as it continued to play the same chunk of track again and again.

Moore could no longer hear it. Her blood splattered the walls and ceiling of the elevator like a crude modern art painting, lifeblood trickling steadily down from her gutted-open chest and stomach, her mouth open in what had been a quickly silenced scream. Her eyes had been viciously and hastily dug out of her skull, bloody sockets streaming as her body slumped further and further down, her glasses crushed to the side.

Finally it hit the floor of the elevator, a single fly landing on her head and buzzing as the stereo continued to play for its only listener, who would never be able to hear anything.

Ever again.

The sweet hereafter puts you in your place-the sweet hereafter puts you in your place-the sweet hereafter puts you in your place-

…

… “It happened near one o’clock this morning.” Taro admitted as he sat with his friends with the rest of the crowd at New Wave’s next concert, the hot midday sun beaming down on all of them as Heimdall the Dragon sipped on some juice, nodding his head. “I mean, blood EVERYWHERE.”

“I think the bad karma fairy got her.” Marian said, the cherry-furred unicorn giggling a bit as she waved her bejeweled hoof in the air.

“The bad karma fairy?” Taro the Changeling asked, scratching his head as Marian enthusiastically nodded her head, Heimdall nervously looking over to the right to take notice of…wait. Hadn’t he seen that grey-furred pony before? At other concerts for New Wave?

“Yep. She stepped on Moore again and again with her six-inch stiletto horeshoes.” Marian chuckled out as she sipped on some juice of her own. “Anyhow, you been to the Source Wall site? Seen Shimmer’s Room?”

“Yeah, but is that really him?” Taro wanted to know with a shrug. “Is he honestly writing all of that? It said he’s supposed to be at the concert today, singing with Rumi and Meman and all the rest.”

“Yeah, I was wondering about that…”

“Look, I really doubt the letter and this are connected. I mean, if they were, wouldn’t the person who did them have struck earlier?” Sirocco asked of Shimmer as Shimmer got himself ready in the dressing room. “We’ve got to put this behind us.”

“But what if it IS connected?” Shimmer wanted to know.

“How can you be sure it’s connected, anyhow?”

“…I can’t. Frankly, I’m not sure of ANYTHING these…” He said as he looked out the window and up at the sky, blinking in surprise. What the? That thing in the sky. “Sirocco, have you seen that thing in the sky? The thing that-”

“Looks like something’s stitched up there and is being ripped open?” Sirocco asked, turning his head and looking over at Shimmer, who enthusiastically nodded as the gryphon walked over to the window and peeked up as the ripped-open piece of sky faded quickly away. “I don’t know what that is. It might just be an optical illusion of the heat. This IS the hottest year on record, after all.”

“…maybe.”

“Listen, uh…Shimmer, about the photographer who’s going to be here today…” Sirocco began to say.

“That photographer…” Rumi murmured nervously to the rest of the band as THEY sat in their own dressing rooms, getting themselves ready for their concert as Carapace stood outside the door, nervously tapping one hoof on the ground, shaking his head back and forth. “I dunno, guys. I mean…I’ve heard he’s got something of a fetish for making people show every little thing they’ve got to offer. Not a single person he’s photograph lasted more than five minutes before he asked them to take it all off.”

“Oh, Shimmer will be fine. It’s just PICTURES after all.” Mania insisted, the Keobjil lead drummer shaking his head back and forth as he took a swig of water from his bottle, Rumi applying some lipstick to her mouth. “He won’t mind. I’m sure he can’t wait to take it off. Like, POW! “Hello, world! I’m sexy and I know it”!”

“Sexy…and I know it. I’ve just got the greatest idea for our next song!” Rumi realized, hopping up and down as she raced for the nearby desk, yanking open a drawer and scribbling down lyrics onto a pad. “It’s PERFECT! And I’ve got a great idea for costumes, too!”

“Children! Such NOISE!” Carapace groaned out, looking into the room and rapping on the door. “Get on out there! You’re on in five, remember? Then I have go over and check in on Shimmer.”

“You’re being stretched so thin as BOTH our managers, Carry.” Rumi insisted gently. “You ever consider maybe taking a vacation for your health?” She asked of the thickly Changeling as he groaned slightly.

“I don’t need a vacation. I need painkillers, I have a major headache…”

Meanwhile…speaking OF said photographer…

“Oh yeah. Right there. You’re captured in the light perfectly.” The thick, muscular albino unicorn insisted, snapping photographs of Shimmer as he sat on top of a large white bed in a white, pearly room with soft silver curtains fluttering in the breeze from an opened window nearby. He was lying across silken sheets in a white vest and pants, and now rolled onto his back, resting his head on one hoof as he smiled seductively at the camera as it captured his every position. “Just lovely?”

“Like this?” Shimmer asked, the photographer nodding enthusiastically, sweat drops breaking out on the unicorn’s forehead and trickling slightly down his brow, the orange shirt he wore now showing stains under his armpits as he motioned for Shimmer to get into a new position.

“Open your mouth a little bit.” He asked. “Soft, slightly pouty-THERE. Good, good! Now lean against the pillow…one arm stretched out. GOOD! Okay. New camera, new camera…” He murmured to himself, his horn glittering with a faint blue light as another camera floated across the private studio he’d taken Shimmer to and into his hoof as he put the other one to the side. “Alright. New tack. Take it off.”

“All of it?” Shimmer asked, nervously flinching as he looked slightly down.

“Oh yes. I want you au-naturale. Everything. Give me everything tonight.” Mr. Jones insisted with a firm nod, pointing at the camera. “It LOVES you, baby. The camera loves to soak in every bit of your body. There ain’t nothing to be ashamed of.”

Shimmer inwardly flinched as he took hold of his vest and took it off over his head, slinging it away whilst Mr. Jones snapped shot after shot, getting every angle that would make Shimmer’s fur shine JUST right in the light. It wasn’t long though before the flushed unicorn then asked Shimmer to take off his PANTS, and show off everything.

Normally ponies, much like many other species in Collective, did not, under any circumstances, let it “all hang out”. That sort of thing was hidden away, only coming out during for necessary biological functions such as relieving themselves…or finding relief. But if they wished it and could flex just the right muscle, get the right stimulation, then the mental switch would click in their head and out it would come.

Not that his was unimpressive. About a 7 point five out of ten, maybe? But it wasn’t like size mattered. No, it was about what was proportional to body size, right?

FLASH!

Perhaps it was childish to think of such things. But his body was running on autopilot, doing the necessary positions meant to allure and seduce would-be fangirls and fanboys, taking every pose that the photographer wanted as Mr. Jones grinned broadly, licking his beaked lips with a bright pink tongue. “Oh YEAAH, work it, work it, work it! Be more DARING!”

FLASH!

Shimmer drew himself up, resting his hooves behind his head, the giving a firm, alluring smile, a glint to his eye as the photographer snapped his shots. “There! Right THERE, that’s the come hither smile that drives them wild! THAT is how you get them to come to you, THAT’S what the people want!” Jones insisted with a toothy grin. “More!”

FLASH!

“Gimme more! MORE!”

FLASH!

“MORE!”

…

… Shimmer rested himself against the wall of his waiting room, arms wrapped around himself as he took in deep, careful breaths, his hair hanging low over his bowed head as Sirocco knocked on the door again, the gryphon glancing back at the hallway. “Shimmer, please! You’ve got your next scene to get ready for! I thought you decided to go through with it? This is the scene where your character starts seeing delusions in your room! C’mon, everyone’s out here waiting for you!”

“Oh, he’s got no idea.” Virtual Shimmer admitted as Shimmer gaped in surprise, stiffening on the spot as he slowly looked up at the bright and colorful “fake” version of himself that had its hooves behind its back, standing on his back legs and happily humming a little tune. “Didn’t I tell you before? It’s so much better when you’re living for the fans.” The Virtual Shimmer said, poking Shimmer in the nose.

“Stop all of this!” Shimmer yelled at the strange manifestation before him, sweeping a hoof through the air and bristling his fur. “Just what ARE you?!”

“Oh, come on! You know!” Virtual Shimmer said with a sigh as he walked around Shimmer, shaking his head back and forth. “I’m a pop star. The fans are all waiting for me to take the stage. I’m going to sing with the gang again.”

“That’s not going to happen. I’m an ACTOR now.” Shimmer insisted, panting slightly as he shook his head back and forth, sweat dripping down his head as he held it in his hooves. “This isn’t happening!”

“Don’t be so stupid. Nobody really wants that! Just listen…the fans are all waiting for me!” Virtual Shimmer said as he opened up the door across from Shimmer, beautiful white light pouring out and cascading over Shimmer…the cheers of fans filling Shimmer’s ears…

“THIS! ISN’T! HAPPENING!” Shimmer screamed out. “THIS ISN’T HAPPENING!”

Knock-knock.

“Shimmer?”

Shimmer’s eyes snapped open as he sat up in his chair. “Shimmer, are you alright?” Sirocco called out as he finally entered the room. “Listen, if you’re not comfortable going on after what you just had to do this morning, I can try to talk to the director…”

…

…the photographs had been…well…quite popular, evidently. It hadn’t just been the New Hope newspaper that bought up the photos that Mr. Jones had shot, no. All of the tabloids and local magazines had wanted in. But without a doubt, the most popular magazine on the continent, “Collective Soul”, had the most raunchy and racy of them all. There was now very little that the people of New Hope didn’t know about Shimmer the Changeling’s body. He wouldn’t be surprised if the photographer had even managed to capture the exact number of teeth he had in his smile. Why not? He’d gotten pictures of his manhood and his bare behind in high definition.

And such photographs were driving a certain fan up the wall. Hyacinth had forcibly ripped magazine after magazine from patron’s hands at the grocery store, intent on buying up every single one that dared to show off Shimmer’s naked body. His mouth was a taut, furious line, his eyes faintly aglow with barely-repressed rage as he tore into the magazines again and again, the inhabitants of the grocery store watching him wordlessly rip the magazines apart, the clerk cringing. Hey, he’d bought them fair and square but…now he was making it rain little chunks of magazine all over Checkout Aisle 2. This was going to be a MESS to clean up.

Storming back home, Hyacinth stewed quietly in his room, glancing about his room at the many posters of “New Wave”, looking at the figure of Shimmer in the center of each one, taking a deep breath before he turned his head to the faint white Source Wall and its softly burning flames. “Thank you for your kind words. I’m always glad to speak to you every day.” He spoke to it, in communication once again with his little “pen-pal”, his dear benefactor who, like he, wanted only to protect dearest Shimmer’s reputation. “You believe me, don’t you? That’s not REALLY Shimmer in those photos, not REALLY Shimmer doing that horrible drama!”

The Source Wall relayed his message as Hyacinth took in several deep, almost ragged breaths before his eyes lit up at the reply. “Yes. I believe you. I trust you, Mr. Hyacinth.”

“I’ll always be with you, and I’m never gonna change!” His posters cheerily announced to him as Hyacinth hugged himself and hummed happily as he continued to read off the Source Wall.

“But…I’ve got a problem. That horrible imposter. He keeps getting in the way.”

“You don’t need to worry.” Hyacinth responded back, his brow furrowed darkly. “I’ll get rid of him.”

“Oh, thank you, mister Hyacinth.” His pen-pal cheerily wrote back. “I know I can rely on you.”

Hyacinth wasn’t the only one losing it over the photographs, though. It had all been too much for poor Shimmer the Changeling. He simply had HAD to get away.

Hopping the turnstile, the Ghainahm family Changeling had raced to the forest, brushing aside thick bush, barreling past vibrant trees, flower patches and occasionally-startled woodland critters to leap headfirst into New Hope’s deep and luscious forest. The changeling’s breath was ragged and harsh, rasping as he dove deeper into the Mokujin Woods, the faint roar of what he needed to find filling his ears, getting louder and louder as he got ever closer.

Finally Shimmer reached it, the picturesque Mokujin Waterfall, a beautiful display of nature barreling down gallons and gallons of faintly greenish/blue water into an enormous natural pool. He tossed himself into the water, letting every single droplet of coolness fill his being, sinking lower and lower into the crystalline pool, going below the surface. He did nothing but stare up, mouth closed, his face pained and haggard as he looked up at something that could not stare back at him, reminding him of his shame.

He felt…dirty.

Diseased.

FILTHY.

TARNISHED.

Those…fucking…PHOTOGRAPHS.

He slowly wrapped his hooves around himself, eyes shutting tightly as he let out a screaming wail. “YOU BASTAAAAAAAAAAARD!!!” His watery wail echoed up from the depths of the pool.

“YOU BAAAAASTAAAAAAAAAAAAAARDDDDD!!!!”

Folie à Deux

DELIRIUM:
Folie à Deux

Twilight Sparkle glanced left and right about the road skirting the way towards the ancient site of the fabled city of New Hope, her purple eyes softly shining before widening brightly as lightning began to flash, illuminating the path before her and her draconic assistant. Spike sat atop her, chewing his lip as they continued to make their way down the road, Twilight climbing over a split-rail fence and bushwhacking some shrubs away as they pushed on through the forest path. “This is a bad idea. We should stop for the night. Somewhere where wild manticores can’t use us for toothpicks.”

“Look at it this way, Spike.” Twilight insisted as Spike wiped his brow, panting a bit as crickets and cicada cries filled the air around them. “Think of this as building character and discovery HISTORY. Think of it as exercise. Think of it as fun!”

“FUN?” Spike proclaimed as he scratched his head, mosquito bites covering about 3/5ths of his body at the moment. “Oooch-ooch-ooch!”

“Well if you bought the first two…” Twilight trailed off as the moon began to rise, Twilight now reaching the end of the forest path as it led into a cornfield, tall rows of corn filling her and Spike’s vision as mountains became silhouetted far behind. The moon was bright enough so they could see the way forward as loose clouds and distant flashes of lightning flitted across to provide a faint air of dread that continued to infect Spike as he glanced nervously around the cornfield.

A few minutes of tenseness later they finally reached a low, grassy area which appeared to be a sunken road, a natural trench in the earth that the two would hold up in for the night as Twilight sat down, prying upon the journal as lightning slashed through the air above like a razor blade, Spike looking down at the translated journal as she scribbled in the next lines. “Just a few more pages and my translation’s complete.” She admitted, patting a hoof down onto the journal and smiling at Spike. “Princess Luna would be proud of me.”

“Which reminds me.” Spike said as he snapped his digits. “I need to mail that letter.” He added, holding up a small roll of paper he’d gotten and scribbling down onto it as Twilight tilted her head to the side in confusion. “I think it might be a good idea for her to come see us at where New Hope was. I know we told your friends where we’d be going, but just in case something happens…”

“Like manticores?” She asked with a slight chuckle as Spike blew onto the letter with his bright green flames and it vanished before her eyes. “Don’t worry, Spike. Princess Luna can be here within a span of a few hours if she really wanted to be. Everything will be alright.”

“What’s happening in the journal?” Spike wanted to know as Twilight closed it up, reclining leisurely in the sunken road as Spike rested his hands in his lap, titling his head to the side. “In fact, how did he find out about what Hyacinth was up to?”

“Hyacinth evidently kept a journal. One HE always carried with him. He was always writing down his most terrible, cruel thoughts onto it…his darkest fantasies playing to life within the pages.” Twilight murmured somberly, chewing on her lip. “From what I’ve read, Shimmer got a hold of it.” She admitted.

“Hyacinth just let him have it?” Spike asked incredulously. The two now lay on their backs, slightly soaked with sweat from the long trek as a breeze came up around them, wrapping them in cool relief as ground moisture began to tickle at their backs like tiny toes dancing about, Spike shivering a bit as it began to actually turn rather cold.

“He let him have a LOT of things, but not that. But I should start where I last left off. Shimmer decided to try and throw himself as deeply as he could into the drama series, to be the best actor “Delirum” could offer. He let himself become enveloped in the role. I think he just wanted some kind of foothold on reality, even if it was a false reality he was trying to steady himself on…”

…

…the rain fell slowly down, softly trickling down his cheeks as he held his head in one hoof, Shimmer the Chnageling shaking his head back and forth as he bit into his lip. He looked out over the bridge high above the lower stretches of the city’s roads, his voice pained and terrified. “Heaven help me, I don’t know anything about myself anymore.”

“You needn’t be so worried, Eiko.” The good doctor, played once more by Jillian, insisted. She brushed the river-like stream of black hair she had to the side as she walked over to the section of bridge that Shimmer was hanging his hooves over as he stared over the city, blinking slowly. “How do you know that person you were a minute ago is the person you are now?”

“What do you mean?” Shimmer asked, the rain pouring down a bit heavier.

“A continuous stream of memories. With only THAT in our minds, we create an idea about ourselves, insist there is only one “us”. That there’s only ONE fixed persona.” Dr. Jillian went on as she gestured out at the city. “Our life is a steady railroad. There are eventual stops, moments when we halt and get off, surely. But the train itself remains the same.”

“Doctor, I…” Shimmer shook his head back and forth, his voice slightly hysterical as he began to shudder and shake. “Doctor, I’m not so sure. I think that it ISN’T the same. I’m afraid this other self will come to life, that it’s going to do something horrible and there’s nothing I can do to stop it!” He fervently muttered, gasping a bit as Jillian put a hoof on him, smiling tenderly into his eyes.

“Don’t be frightened.” She cooed to him. “You are you. Don’t forget that.”

He nervously looked down and to the side, catching sight of a familiar grey pony that was staring RIGHT up at him, eyes soullessly glaring, brow slightly furrowed, an accusatory glint in his dark eyes as Shimmer blinked in surprise.

What in?...

Jillian patted his shoulder, making him look at her face. “An illusion can’t become a reality.” She told him as he nodded at her.

“CUT!” Director Mahgreb called out, the zebra growling a bit as he looked up at the rapidly falling rain, sighing as he hung his head. “I think we’ll have to end shooting here.” He insisted, shaking his head back and forth as Shimmer looked back down from the bridge, back at the place where that grey-furred pony had been. But when he stared…there was nothing there. The changeling blinked stupidly for a moment, scratching his head. He was sure he’d seen…

A little while later, Sirocco was taking him back to the main studio building where they did all the recording for New Wave, the gryphon pushing the door open as he ruffled his feathers, the sandy-colored gryphon poofing up as he growned,covering his chest with his clawed digits. “EEK! I look like a feather duster!” He proclaimed as Shimmer wiped rain off of the blue hair atop his head, shaking his tail back and forth as Sirocco let out a couple coughs.

“What’re we doing here anyhow?” Shimmer wanted to know as the gryphon led the changeling down a large blue carpet past pale red walls, the gryphon sneezing slightly before bristling up some more, his feathers poofing up again.

“Oogh. I thought it’d be good for you to see how Rumi and the rest of New Wave are doing. They’ve got a radio broadcast going on today. Did you want to say hello?” He asked of the changeling before his question dissolved into massive coughs.

“Don’t look UP into the rain next time.” Shimmer insisted with a gentle chuckle, foofing the gryphon’s feathered body and squeezing out some water as Sirocco visibly blushed.

“I’m sorry, I think my great grandfather might have been half TURKEY, can’t help it.” The gryphon manager nervously admitted as they headed up the elevator to the top floor, making their way past slightly yellowish/white walls as Shimmer overheard the band speaking at the far end of the hallway they were in. Evidently they were live and on the air right now, as evidenced by the large “LIVE” sign brightly glowing by a window off towards the end of the hallway. He could see the band more clearly as they got closer to the room where the recording was taking place in, a control room located to the side and-

Wait. Wait a minute, there was something faintly bright inside of the studio room, situated at the table the band were sitting at, wearing a familiar flashy vest with gems bejeweled within…

No, no, it couldn’t be!

“We’re going to have our next show at 2:00 tomorrow, and we’re all eager to perform our newest single, “Bubblegum Sex”. Please come see us, we’ll be waiting for you!”

“New Wave’s Newswave will be back on the air same time, same channel. Though it’s pouring outside, our hearts are always sunny! Bye-bye!”

“We love you, baby!” The Virtual Shimmer laughed cheerily, resting his head on his hooves and looking up through the glass at Shimmer with a slight chuckle.

“N-no, it…it can’t be…” Shimmer whispered as the manifestation giggled, hopping to it’s feet and phasing through the door, Sirocco seeing Shimmer’s face pale, turning sickly and almost green as he slightly reeled back.

“Shimmer, what’s wro-”

But Shimmer had already taken off, and was racing through the hallway after the false him, panting and heaving as the Virtual Shimmer bounced through the hall without a care in the world, singing loudly and proudly, DARING Shimmer to follow him. The moon and stars penned in the sky, in blackest night, they’re rising high, they soon are wiped from off night’s flank, until it all is pure and blank!

“STOP IT!” Shimmer screamed out. “You are not real! I KNOW you’re not real, I’m gonna catch you and beat you and I will KNOW you’re not real!”

The Virtual Shimmer’s laughter echoed through the air as Shimmer slammed slightly into a wall as he turned a corner, quickly re-righting himself and chasing after the manifestation as sweat poured down his brow, the cheery being continuing to sing. Empty flank and hollow eyes, knowing only the disguise, see the tear that fills the skies, and that is when the cities rise! See them spinning through the air, like a great mandala wheel, screaming as they’re soaring higher, what is false and what is real?

He tore after the Virtual Him, colliding with a secretary as he continued to try and chase after it, tossing back a quick apology as the being giggled a bit, bouncing towards the stairs, skipping merrily like it hadn’t a care in the world as Shimmer continued to chase it. “What are you?! A trick?! A trap!?! Somebody’s magic spell?! I KNOW I’m not crazy! I just CAN’T be!”

His hooves slipped on the stairs and he let out a pained yell, fire rising up through his legs as he rolled down and came to a flop at the bottom of the stairs, panting and heaving, tears of pain and despair softly trailing down his cheeks as he tried to get up, only to take notice of the mirrored walls in front of him, which made him stare, mouth opening slightly in surprise before he heard it speak anew.

“I TOLD you. I’M the real Shimmer!”

Shimmer wheeled around, seeing the thing bouncing off through the doorway outside, heading for the rainy streets. Gritting his teeth, Shimmer tore after him, ignoring the dull pain that was sticking into his legs as the rain pounded away at him, the changeling shoving aside various Diamond Dogs, ponies, Gryphons and other Changelings as he tore after the thing, gasping hard as it made it’s way across a road, heading for the tunnelway. Shimmer barreled after him, but was finally forced to flop to his knees, panting and heaving, unable to continue before he heard a loud roar, turning his head, bright white lights barreling down on him as he heard a shriek of cosmic thunder and the sky seemed to shake as something ripped open overhead…

And in a flash…it was over…

And he was back at his apartment.

…

… “My head…I feel like a puppy that’s been run over by a train.” Shimmer moaned out as he sat on a small, soft little carpet in his room, Carapace sitting across from him and munching on a tiny little green sugar ball, a tasty liquid dribbling out and into the slightly portly Changeling’s mouth as he eagerly drank from it. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in so long.”

“Thanks for giving me a key to your room. So tell me, are you getting used to acting?”

“Well, it’s what I decided to do. Did…did anything happen yesterday?”

“The gang was really happy to see you. They’re doing so well, wouldn’t you say?” Carapace asked. “And it was sweet of Sirocco to come and take you to visit. You even got to do some singing again. I KNOW, I know.” He insisted, holding up a thick hoof in the air to halt Shimmer’s protests before they started. “You want to be considered an actor now. I understand. I guess it took a while, but everyone seems to really love the new you.” Carapace admitted with a nonchalant shrug. “That BBS site though…you should stay away from it. It’s nothing but bad news.”

“I visited…oh. So that’s what happened…” Shimmer murmured. “…must be…right?”

“Right what?” Carapace asked, tilting his head to the side, clearly confused. Shimmer looked like somebody had whacked him in the face with a frying pan and he was still struggling to realize that he’d been hit. “You know, I was a little bit worried when you took down all of the “New Wave” stuff from your khana, but hey, it was your apartment, you’re allowed to. But this makes me really concerned. You seem out of it.”

“…maybe I shouldn’t have taken them down.” Shimmer mumbled aloud. “Maybe…maybe the pop singer, that…that innocent piece of my past is more the real me than I ever could be the way I am. Maybe I’M the fake. Maybe that other personality buried deep inside is acting out?”

“Oh, Shim, you’ve been watching too many dailies! That illusion could never come to reality!” Carapace laughed, Shimmer paling.

“WHAT!?”

“Shimmer, what’re you doing?” Anderson asked as she and Jillian passed the “Morin Huur” guitar over to him in the break room as Shimmer looked around, realizing he was in the lounge, and not his khana. “Come on, you said you were going to play us a little tune?” She asked, gesturing at the horse-headed stringed acoustic guitar as Shimmer bit into his lip, sweat beads breaking out on his head as he looked slightly to the side, out the nearby window.

For a moment, he thought he saw a familiar grey-furred pony, but…

No, no, it was just his imagination. Just…yeah. Just his imagination.

It wasn’t real.

…wasn’t…real.

…

…“My head…I feel like a puppy that’s been run over by a train.” Shimmer moaned out as he sat on a small, soft little carpet in his room, Carapace sitting across from him and munching on a tiny little green sugar ball, a tasty liquid dribbling out and into the slightly portly Changeling’s mouth as he eagerly drank from it. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in so long.”

“What do you mean?” Carapace wanted to know as he munched on some cake, Shimmer holding a cup of mineral water in his hooves, his hair hanging low like his head, his voice dead and subdued, eyes slightly sunken in. “I just saw you yesterday, remember? Are you feeling alright?”

“…that was yesterday? Huh.” Shimmer mumbled, his hooves shaking a bit. “That’s funny. Boy. Wish I could remember. It’s all like some dream.”

“That’s very odd, Shimmer. Are you sure you’re feeling alright?” Carapace wished to know, tilting his head slightly to the side before he closed his eyes and shook his head back and forth. “Oh, Shim. You’re not seeing things or anything, are you? You know illusions can’t possibly come-”

KRAKKA-SHING! The cup in Shimmer’s grip shattered into chunks that plopped down to the ground as blood poured freely from Shimmer’s wounded hooves, Carapace gasping in surprise as Shimmer nonchalantly looked down at his hooves. “Shimmer, what?!”

“This blood. It’s real, right? I’m real, right?” Shimmer whispered out, chuckling wryly as he shook his head back and forth, a concerned expression coming to Carapace’s face as he held his friend gently, nuzzling his cheek.

“Shim…” The thick-bodied changeling murmured mournfully. “Oh, Shimmer…” He asked, the blood slowly dripping into the mineral water that had collected in one such chunk of cup, plopping down with a loud “THWLOP”, crimson slowly spreading through the crystalline liquid like a dark infection.

Meanwhile, Director Maghreb was in the middle of directing a scene at the producing studio, sitting in the editing room as they looked over what they’d filled. The zebra adjusted the cap atop his head, his tattooed face looking eagerly at what they’d just shot, evidently pleased with the direction that “Delirium” was taking.

Jillian and Anderson’s two characters were sitting in a room, Jillian pouring the unicorn some wine as they sat by a table with a large collection of photographs of Shimmer, along with newspaper articles about recent murders, a confused expression upon Anderson’s face. “So...you’re saying…” the unicorn asked, scratching his head. “The murderer is just an illusion that he’s created?”

“Yes. He’s terrified of this grey-furred pony. He superimposes that figure as a serial murderer of people that he’s been affiliated with.” Jillian admitted as she sipped her wine, the Pegasus sighing a bit. “But he’s not really the killer.”

“This is all INSANE. That illusion can’t be the one doing the killings, after all! So who’s really doing them?” Anderson wanted to know as Jillian took in a deep breath, brow furrowing as she looked down at a photograph of Shimmer…specifically, one of the more “risqué” pictures.

“True. An illusion couldn’t do that…unless it had possessed someone.”

“You mean…”

“Yes. Those people that were murdered all did him wrong in some way. We have to find him NOW, officer…before he kills again and another victim falls prey to his insanity.”

That night, Mr. Jones was taking in that very same scene as he sat in his darkened living room, taking sips from some wine as the unicorn chuckled a bit at the enormous screen. “Heh. What a twist! The actor’s out of his mind. Yeah, actors have never EVER killed people before!” He smirked before a loud ring filled the air of his ornate home, the unicorn looking up, realizing he wasn’t actually wearing any clothes except for a pair of orange briefs over his pants. He thought perhaps about putting one of his silken bathrobes on…

But just shrugged it off, getting up from the deep red couch he was sitting in, heading for the front door and opening it up, the pizza boy holding up his delivery for him as he scratched his butt. “So how much is it?” He asked, holding up the wallet he’d grabbed off the nearby bureau.

The pizza boy dropped the box to the ground, nervously looking away as Jones snorted. “Butterfingers much?” He asked of the pizza boy, reaching down to pick it up, unaware the pizza boy was reaching behind his back, grabbing something from out of his bright red pockets. But as Mr. Jones’s hooves wrapped around the “Sizzling Slices” pizza box, he got to find out what it WAS the pizza boy had been keeping in his back pocket.

A screwdriver. Which plunged into the unicorn’s eye with the speed and fluidity of a cobra striking.

The blood flowed freely down from the ruined socket, Mr. Jones SCREAMING in sheer agony as he was slammed against the wall, the “pizza boy” taking hold of his shoulder and jamming the screwdriver into him again and again with renewed vigor. Lifeblood gushed out onto the thick blue welcome carpeting below, shoving it into Jones’s soft frame over and over as Jones howled in agonized screams and cries…but the door outside had been closed, and it was 11 at night in the suburbs on the outskirts of New Hope. Nobody could hear him.

The murderer slammed the screwdriver into his gut again, then gripped his shoulder more tightly, it’s breath cold and harsh as it hissed in his face, jabbing it down, Jones’s remaining good eye widening in agony as dark, burning pain ripped through his extremities. He reeled back, the murderer calmly trotting towards him as he slammed the glassy door to his kitchen shut, panting and heaving and clutching at his gouged-out right eye, tears trickling down his good eye as he tried to get his bearings. Letter. The dragon delivery system. Write in to the police. Set it on fire. Hide in a closet, get away-

The glass door shattered, the screwdriver digging into his back as the murderer continued his work, Mr. Jones bellowing loudly as he reeled away, screaming desperately, trying to crawl away as he fell to the ground, blood pooling around him as he grabbed hold of anything that he could get his hooves on. He yanked various books off of a table, tossing it at his attacker as it batted them aside over and over before backhanding Jones across the face, a sickening KRAKK indicating his nose was broken as the murderer kicked him onto his side and stabbed his hoof through the photo album he’d tried to toss next, a photo album showing naked pictures of Shimmer, the unicorn crying out in utter agony.

Again and again the screwdriver came down on his head. Again and again it dug into his skull, blood splattering over the murderer’s body, the hat falling away, revealing dark fur, eyes blazing with fury, hate etched into his face as he stabbed and stabbed, roaring down at the dead unicorn as the inky redness spread across the dark carpet below like a foul watercolor painting…

…

… “This…this is not a good month for me…” Shimmer mumbled out as he held his head, shaking it back and forth as he struggled to get out of bed, his sheets stained with sweat as he cringed, rubbing his sore body. “And what a night. What a dream. Maybe I should go see a psychologist…” He murmured to himself as he looked over at the little fishies in their tank across from his bed. “What do you think, little buddies? Think ol’ Shimmer’s out of his mind? Yeah, I’m a psycho killer…” He groaned as he turned to the Source Wall in his room, clearing his throat. “Geez, it’s eleven already? Bring up NEWS. Latest on the front page.” He asked of the Source Wall.

Unfortunately as the news blazed their way onto the burning light of the Source Wall in fiery letters, Shimmer’s eyes bugged out in horror at what he was seeing. Interviews and first-hand accounts of people who had investigated an open door at that “nice house down the street”…a house which had become splattered with blood like a modern art painting, a dead unicorn left to rot on the floor…and not just ANY dead unicorn.

No. The headlines read “No More Keeping Up with This Jones”. That photographer. The one who’d taken those pictures. He had been murdered last night.

“Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no…” Shimmer whispered, hooves flying over his mouth, his expression horrified as he rose up and away from the source wall, sniffing at the air as a strange, oddly hard scent filled his nostrils. He made his way towards the closet, eyes slightly narrowing as he slowly pried it open, pushing the doors aside to reveal a bag…with bloody pizza boy clothes in it.

“GAH! Wh-what in…g-gotta get this outta here!” He screamed out, quickly holding the bag at the source wall as it caught fire, launching it out of the nearby window as it dissolved away into ash, the changeling panting slightly as he wiped his brow, watching the little black dots dance on the wind as the ash floated away.

But then it hit him. He’d destroyed evidence. He’d just…

What if he really had killed those people?

What if he’d just…blacked out and couldn’t remember doing it?

He didn’t know anything anymore, he thought to himself as he headed over to the studio, trying to get back to work as everybody stood or sat around, speaking with each other about the recent murder as Carapace sat next to him on a bench, Shimmer’s head hung low.

“So, who do you think is next?”

“Everybody that gets close to him seems to end up dead.”

“He’s bad luck, I tell you.”

“Let’s take bets. How about a “Dead Pool”?”

“GUYS! Shame on you! Cut it out!”

“Don’t worry about them.” Carapace insisted, one hoof draped around Shimmer as Sirocco stood behind THEM, rubbing his chin thoughtfully as Shimmer rubbed his head with his hooves. “They don’t know what they’re talking about.”

“Am I alive?” Shimmer mumbled out, Carapace and Sirocco looking down at him in surprise as the director’s voice announced they had to prepare for the next scene, people moving into places as Shimmer slowly twirled his head around and around. “Maybe I’m not really alive. Maybe I’m dead. This must be Tartarus…I’m being punished every day, relieving this every day, this same horror, not knowing what’s false and what’s real…”

“Shimmer, you’re up! You’re on for the next scene!” Director Maghreb called out, the “victim” lying down on the “bed” they’d made for the set as Shimmer slowly plodded towards the set and got into position for the cameras. “Now remember, breathe harder than you did in rehearsal. You DID just kill someone.” The zebra insisted to the dark blue-eyed changeling as the changeling began to deeply inhale, slightly rasping as his chest fell up and down, his forehead matted with sweat, a bloody screwdriver left in a slowly expanding pool of blood.

“And…ACTION!”

Stabbed-in eyes staring accusingly. Blood trickling down from empty sockets and a grinning, leering smirk on a dead face…Jones seemed to be laughing in death as he stared up at Shimmer, mouth opening slightly, blood coming out in a tiny trickle from the side of his mouth, having pooled up within…

…

… “Could you tell me your name?” Jillian asked as Shimmer nonchalantly looked from his own reflection in the mirror to the nice lady that was trying to ask him questions. The changeling blinked a bit, scratching his head.

“I’m Shimmer.” The changeling said. “And you’re…?”

“Dr. Jillian. I’m a psychologist, Mr. Shimmer. But I don’t want to talk about me.” She said as she sat across from the changeling in the pale white room, a single light fixture above as she rested her hooves on the table, smiling warmly at the changeling. “Let’s talk about you. What do you do?”

“I’m a pop star…no, that’s not right.” Shimmer chuckled as he shook his head back and forth. “No, now I’m an actor.”

“My, my. An ACTOR. That must be quite hard.” The psychologist admitted as she scribbled down some notes on a notepad she’d brought which was attached to a snazzy metal clipboard as Shimmer sipped from a cup of mineral water she’d brought to him, nodding his head as he continued to speak, his voice almost otherworldly, as if he wasn’t really there at all, but speaking from some far-off plane of existence.

“Aw, yeah.” Shimmer sighed with a slightly dreamy smile. “But y’know, it’s what I decided to do. I’ve got to keep moving forward, right?” The changeling said as he waved a hoof in the air, evidently unaware he was being watched through a nearby two-way glass, the very thing he’d been looking at before to see his reflection.

“Incredible.” Anderson murmured as he and his other police partner watched in from the other end of the screen. “He thinks he’s some up-and-coming actor named Shimmer. What’s going on?”

“Dissociative Personality Disorder.” Jillian announced as she entered the room, closing the door behind her and sitting in a chair across from them, waving a pen in the air as she shook her head back and forth. “But you might know it better as “Multiple Personality Syndrome”. All of those crimes took place when he believed herself to be a different persona, a different personality.”

“So then…where’s the personality of the real Eiko Flecht?” Anderson’s partner inquired as Jillian sighed slightly, hanging her head as if ashamed to answer.

“I’m afraid that…Eiko Flecht is nothing more than a character in a daily for him. A person that belongs in a drama series. Being a “normal” changeling…being raped in that strip club…all of that happened as part of her drama series, it wasn’t “real”. By thinking along those lines, she kept her sanity and salvaged her own heart.” Jillian went on.

“Yes…” Shimmer murmured as he looked at his reflection, chuckling a bit as he put a hoof up to the reflection. “I’m an actor. I’m the real me…”

“All right, that’s the take!” Director Maghreb called out, everybody cheering and hollering with joy, clapping and bouncing up and down for joy. “Well done, everyone, well done!”

“I can’t believe how well you SOLD it, Shimmer!” Jillian laughed as she patted Shimmer on the head, helping him out of the room as Carapace approached and eagerly embraced his friend.

“I am SO proud of you, Shimmer!” Carapace agreed, Shimmer blinking a bit, mouth slightly agape.

“Carry…” He murmured, Director Maghreb clearing his throat as he waved a hoof in the air.

“As of today…Delirium is in the can! Thank you, everyone! Thank you!” The zebra proclaimed, all of the cast members throwing hats and cups in the air as they bounced up and down, whooping and hollering for joy as Shimmer looked around, blinking in surprise as he felt the warm waves of pure, unbridled ecstasy slam into him again and again as their clapping and cheering filled his ears.

The spotlight had found him anew…

…

… “You were FANTASTIC.” Sirocco said to Shimmer as he, Shimmer and Carapace talked with the director, Sirocco grinning over at the changeling before taking the director’s hoof in his hands and shaking it eagerly.

“He truly did a wonderful job. I hope to see you at the wrap party?” Maghreb wanted to know as Sirocco and Carapace nodded their heads, Shimmer rubbing the back of his own head as the director headed off down the hallway, heading home.

“Guess we should get going too.” Sirocco admitted as Shimmer nodded at last, Carapace patting him on the shoulder.

“Best go get your stuff from the dressing room.” The bulky changeling suggested as Shimmer headed off down the hall, Sirocco and Carapace heading outside as Sirocco smiled eagerly at Carry.

“I can’t believe it. It’s been a long ride but it was well worth it, wouldn’t you say so?” Sirocco asked as Carapace nodded his head, holding his hands behind his back.

“Ah, that reminds me.” Carapace wanted to know, the others already long gone from the parking lot they were in as he tilted his head slightly to the side. “You said that you’d been in contact with another director for a new role?”

“Oh, yes. He’ll be playing the lead in a movie this time, not just a series. There’s a few slutty scenes, but, well, whatcha gonna do?” Sirocco asked with a sigh and a shrug as Carapace chewed his lip.

“What INDEED.” He muttered. “Not like that wouldn’t tarnish Shimmer worse…”

Unfortunately for Shimmer, he had not been even able to get to his dressing room. Because he’d been quickly grabbed hold of as he passed by the doorway to the very set they’d done the rape scene in. The fake nightclub no longer had the sketchy lightning, and the curtains were pulled to the side of the stages, but poor Shimmer was trapped beneath the grey-furred pony that was pinning him down, the pony glaring furiously down at him as Shimmer screamed out for help. “HELP ME! SOMEBODY!”

“Shut it!” Hyacinth growled out, flashing the knife he had in one hoof and holding it in front of the Changeling’s face. “Nobody can hear you anyhow, the building’s empty! I took my time and hid, waiting for all of them to leave so I could take revenge for my precious Shimmer.”

“But I’M Shimmer.” Shimmer murmured, looking up, eyes wide with fear as his pupils turned to pinpricks, Hyacinth him over before shaking his head back and forth, sweat flopping around.

“No, no, NO! Stop confusing me!” He snarled out, green eyes gazing deep into Shimmer’s as a foul, unnatural glint filled them. “You’re not Shimmer! Every day he’s written to me! “Please help me, Mr. Hyacinth”! You’re just pretending!” He hissed, backhanding Shimmer across the face, making blood splatter across the set as Shimmer gasped a bit, Hyacinth holding the knife up to his throat, shutting him up before he could scream. “Is that how you fooled that photographer and screenwriter? Get all teary eyed? Say YOU’RE the real deal? What a dirty mouth you have, saying such lies…”

“Then…then you’re…?” Shimmer murmured as the pony waved the knife around in the air above, as if wagging a finger, chuckling a bit down at the trapped Changeling. Shimmer couldn’t believe how STRONG this stallion was. He had almost unnatural strength…it felt like he was being pinned to the ground by someone made of BRICKS.

“The real Shimmer’s been mailing me over the BBS, been in contact with me since I first made that site.” Hyacinth went on. “And he says you’re in his way!”

“YOU killed them?” Shimmer asked as Hyacinth twirled the knife around in one hoof, cheerily grinning down at his prey.

“I’ve been waiting to do this for so long.” Hyacinth laughed. “You like rape scenes, do you?” He asked. “Well how about another rehearsal? You don’t seem to mind, you’re such a slut, giving away your body-”

Shimmer called upon his changeling powers, desperate to try and throw him off as what was obviously a bejeweled vest popped onto his body and he gave Hyacinth the most innocent-looking puppy dog stare he could muster. Stunned, Hyacinth blinked stupidly in surprise, the knife lowering a bit as his mouth hung slightly open. “Wha-?”

THA-THWAM! He headbutted the pony, knocking him off the catwalk as he raced off, tripping over some paint buckets and sprawling across the stage before hauling himself back up. The exit. Where was the exit!? Everything was cloaked up in these dumb curtains and moved around, where was the REAL exit to the room? Don’t panic. You are not toast, he kept saying to himself, glancing around the back stage of the room. Everything is going to be fine…

“You are a most disobedient actor.” Hyacinth growled out as Shimmer whirled around, panting a bit as the pony glowered at him. “No ad-libbing, you need to follow my script! Take TWO!” He cried out, shooting forward, the knife digging into the section of wall Shimmer had been at an instant later, the changeling bolting away from him as fast as he could, only to get grabbed by his hair, yanked against the wall as Hyacinth slammed a hoof into the changeling’s stomach again and again, launching him through a fake wall which flopped to the floor, Shimmer sprawled across it as he gasped in pain.

Shimmer struggled to get to his feet, trying to stand, but his body was reeling in agony as he tried to turn his head to look around the room, Hyacinth taking off the belt he wore and stretching it. “I’m going to have to do something about those quick little hooves of yours. Can’t have you running off. Shimmer wouldn’t like that, oh no…” He murmured to himself as Shimmer looked down over the fake wall his body was draped over…seeing a pair of construction tools left behind by the crew…including a hammer. It was his only chance.

Hyacinth tied up his lower hooves with his belt, grinning a bit as he lifted Hyacinth’s lower body up, licking his lips. “I call this poetic justice. It isn’t like you respected your body enough anyhow. Now you’ll understand how it feels to have everything you hold dear taken away from you-”

Shimmer’s hoof clenched the hammer as sweat dribbled down Hyacinth’s brow, Shimmer heaving slightly as he finally yanked himself up, swinging the hammer with a smooth, fluid blow. With a THRUNK it struck the side of Hyacinth’s head, and for a moment the two stared at each other, Hyacinth’s eyes wide, not as if he’d just been bashed in the head, but as if somebody had just knocked over his toys and he couldn’t believe this was happening…and then he collapsed backwards onto the set, flopping to the floor as Shimmer let out a series of pained gasps, holding his chest before reaching down to undo the belt around his leg, pulling out something that was sticking up from a pouch in Hyacinth’s belt, some kind of small journal. He looked through it, his breath ragged as he bit into his lip.

All detailing a terrible plan to murder him…and…and was this a piece of his own HAIR? Along with ticket stubs from old concerts HE’D performed at…

Too much. “This is, I-I just gotta get…Carapace, gotta find him, I-I gotta…Carry…” Shimmer hissed out, struggling to get to his feet as he staggered out of the room, then collapsed on the ground outside, flopping to a heap with a loud TWHUMP.

…

… “…mmer! Shimmer! SHIMMER!”

Shimmer let out a loud moan as he rubbed his head, gasping and cringing as he struggled to get to his feet, Carapace helping him up as the changeling gently held his friend. “What’s going on? You were gone for ten whole minutes!”

“I…I was…that pony, the grey-furred pony, he called himself Hyacinth…” Shimmer mumbled out, wiping spit from his mouth as the Keojbil-type Changeling assisted the “Ghainahm” family upright, Shimmer pushing the door to the set open, looking around the set, blinking in surprise as he glanced left and right. It couldn’t be. It couldn’t freakin’ BE! The body was gone. Nobody was there.

“What pony?”

“His…it was right here. I hit him in the head with a hammer, I…I don’t understand.” Shimmer whimpered piteously as his body began to shake. “What’s going on?!”

“Shimmer, are you sure it wasn’t a dream of some kind?” Carapace asked, Shimmer clinging tightly to his friend as he shook his head back and forth.

“I…ugh…my head. I…”

“Come on. It’ll be alright. We’re going back to Shimmer’s room, we’ll sort this out, okay?” Carapace insisted, patting Shimmer on the head as he led his friend out of the room, the two heading for the train station as Shimmer glanced up at the night sky, a familiar white line visible for a few brief seconds before the stitch seemed to slowly fade…

What was…

So…

Very…

Sleepy…

Shimmer awoke with a start, blinking in surprise as he took deep breaths, feeling all over his body and sighing. “Okay. I’m alright, I’m alright.” He murmured softly, turning his head to see Carapace was in the adjoining room, the kitchenette where he USUALLY ate, the sliding door shut just like the balcony window was. Unlike the balcony though, the sliding door to the kitchenette showed little more than big blurs. It wouldn’t even show you your own reflection. He really should get it changed…

Ah well. Sirocco. He should let the gryphon know he was alright. He took hold of some paper that was over by his bedstand on top of a metallic frame, writing down on one of the scrolls that belonged to the “Dragon Delivery System” set up he had in his room. He scribbled down a note before setting it down on the fiery-looking “Send” section inside of the DDS, calmly putting his hooves in his lap as he sat on his bed.

Unfortunately, Sirocco couldn’t hear him. He was slumped against the wall, his wings ripped and shredded, a single eye stabbed out, the other staring sightlessly as his lifeblood pooled around him in a faint halo, his form silent, head bowed slightly in death. He sat next to the dead corpse of Hyacinth, the pony’s eye also missing one eye, stab marks from a screwdriver all over his frame, especially in the neck, looking tiny and pathetic in death, his mouth gaping slightly open as a fly settled down on his head.

Shimmer then stiffened as he realized something was located on top of his fish tank, a chill coming through him as he reached out and picked it up, looking through it…

The journal. Hyacinth’s journal.

It wasn’t a dream. He stiffened on the spot, putting it down before noticing what was hanging on the wall across from him…a giant “New Wave” poster with him on the cover. In fact, the whole ROOM was filled with “New Wave” material. He gasped slightly, glancing around in confusion. “What’s going on?! This isn’t supposed to be in my room!” He exclaimed.

“Of course not! But it DOES belong in Shimmer’s room.” An eerily familiar voice called back, Shimmer turning to see the Virtual Shimmer standing before him…

Even though he knew it was actually Carapace, wearing a bejeweled set of horseshoes with a vest to match, and an ornate necklace and scarf hanging from his neck along with finely-stitched shorts. He pointed at himself and at the silken scarf, grinning a bit. “Look! What do you think? I’m wearing this costume for the next show. Looks great on me, doesn’t it?”

“Carry, what…what’s going ON?” Shimmer murmured out in fear as he took a nervous step back, Carapace looking confused as he scratched his head.

“Why is Carry…Carry…OH! Oh, don’t worry. “Virtual Shimmer” remarked cheerily, waving a dismissive hoof in the air, his almost slightly confused expression becoming calm and placid. “Carapace was feeling really tired. So he went home!”

“Stop talking like that!” Shimmer yelled back, shaking his head back and forth, his tone ragged and pained. “Carapace, please, tell me this is a joke!”

“ Do you wanna know what it means to really be in love?
Light the candle, hold it high, underneath this starry sky,
Eternal bonds are crafted in a moment’s notice,
As you take off for the far-off shine in the corner of your eye!” The Virtual Shimmer sang out, Carapace waving a hoof back and forth in the air, giggling a bit. “Whaddya think? Perfect pitch, huh? A pop star’s gotta bring his A-game whenever he can. But you know…” He shook his head back and forth. “It’s just so hard for me to do what I want when you keep ruining my good name. Carapace was totally furious too!”

“You don’t mean that.” Shimmer murmured, mouth hanging open as he began to inch back. “You can’t.”

“Luckily a pop star’s always protected by their best fans. They always do whatever we want. Although Hyacinth didn’t do so well in the end and I had to take care of things myself.” Virtual Shimmer sighed a bit.

“How do you KNOW him?” Shimmer wanted to know, a confused expression flickering across his face.

“I approached him to set UP that BBS. I noticed he’d been watching me for so long, he seemed like a great choice to do the site. Ah well.” The Virtual Shimmer shrugged. “He couldn’t handle you, you faker, and couldn’t be bothered to deal with Mr. Sirocco either..”

“No. No, not Sirocco…” Shimmer sobbed, tears welling in his eyes. “Carry, how could you?”

“But you’re going to reap what you sow at MY hands since he couldn’t be bothered to do it right.” The Virtual Shimmer admitted with a dark grin spreading across his bright and vibrant face as he pulled out a screwdriver, sweeping his hoof through the air as Shimmer ducked with a cry, the screwdriver tearing through the fish tank, the Virtual Shimmer launching himself at Shimmer again as he struggled to keep Carapace from stabbing him, trying to keep the hoof holding the screwdriver from descending downward, one hoof holding his friend’s arm up, the other pressing hard against his throat, the “Keobjil” changing gasping a bit as he was choked…

But the screwdriver DID come down. Luckily it was only in Shimmer’s shoulder, but he screeched in pain, his leg sweeping up and knocking the insane Carapace off as Shimmer bolted for the balcony, ripping the door open and climbing on top of the guard rail as Carapace rose back up, giddily twirling the screwdriver in one hoof as he launched himself at Shimmer, who launched HIMSELF off the roof, his tiny, near-useless green wings fluttering a bit to help him hover. With a THWAM, he slammed hard into the roof of the building across from his apartment, rolling down it and onto a scaffolding as the Virtual Shimmer floated calmly across towards him, Shimmer climbing atop the scaffolding, clutching at his wounded shoulder as what seemed to be daggers of ice dug into his body, spreading from the wound.

“Somebody! Help me! PLEAAAASE!” He screamed out, looking up into the sky as the tear in the stars seemed to stretch out wider. By now what few people were awake at this time of nightwere looking up, taking notice of THAT in their homes or on the streets and he could hear excited chatter and cries of terror and alarm as harsh wind began to whip up all around him. Heaving and panting, Shimmer raced along the scaffold, the Virtual Shimmer bounding after him.

The Virtual Shimmer/Carapace grabbed hold of Shimmer’s shoulder, Shimmer backhanding him, knocking the screwdriver out of Carapace’s grip as he bolted away, Carapace looking to the side and taking notice of another set of tools that was located to the side of the scaffolding, taking out another screwdriver from it and barreling at Shimmer as they continued to race down the scaffolding, Shimmer leaping over it and onto another roof as the Virtual Shimmer chased after him.

Shimmer was not doing well. The icy feeling in his shoulder had spread down his arm and he was barely able to walk straight, staggering around as Carapace grabbed hold of him, jabbing the screwdriver into his back, Shimmer screeching like a cloud of wasps as he whirled around, backhanding Carapace again, knocking him towards the edge of the roof and leaping at him, trying to pin him down. “Carry, STOP this, PLEASE!” He sobbed out. “You gotta wake up!”

“You’re the one who needs to wake up.” The Virtual Shimmer responded calmly, kicking him as the two went over the side and into a dumpster, Shimmer crawling out first and flopping to the ground, panting and heaving as he crawled out of the alley he’d landed in and racing down the sidewalk, trying to make his way past the occasional staring bystander as they looked up at the stitch that was quickly spreading across the sky, Carapace chasing after him.

“Help…some-somebody…help…” Shimmer murmured. Why was nobody paying attention? It was like they were all hypnotized by-

The police station, it was only a block away. If he could just get inside there, everything would be alright, he could-

Another jagged, hot blow searing into his body. Shimmer screamed in pain as he was thrown against the wall of a nearby alley, and he batted at Carapace, knocking him slightly back as he felt his blood dribbling down from his side to trickle down to the sidewalk below, staggering forward…

Turning…and seeing he was now right in front of the electronics store, a half dozen television screens displaying what cameras in the front window were now catching. And what the cameras in the window were catching…was him. He held his hoof up to the window, blinking slowly, staring back at himself.

HIMSELF…

And the person standing in the street behind him. Not a Virtual Shimmer. But Carapace in an outfit far too small for his bulky body. Not him. Not Shimmer.

He turned around, Carapace cheerily grinning as he launched himself at Shimmer, swinging as the changeling ducked to avoid the strike, the glassy window of the electronics shattering as Shimmer reeled back, only to be forcibly slammed up against the door nearby, Carapace holding the screwdriver up, grinning coldly. “Now let’s end this. We don’t need TWO Shimmer’s!” The “Virtual Shimmer” said.

“I! AM! SHIMMER!”

“That’s funny.” The Virtual Shimmer’s vibrant and bright face snorted, shaking his head back and forth. “Shimmer is a pop star! You’re just a filthy, tarnished imposter!”

“YOU’RE the fake!” Shimmer yelled back, his eyes ablaze, his voice faintly ethereal as a roar filled his words. “AND I’M NOT TAKING THIS ANYMORE!”

His fanged maw shot forward, grabbing hold of the jeweled vest, ripping it clean off and tossing it through the air and past the chunky pieces of electronics store window as Carapace stood there, stupidly smiling back at him before letting out a horrified scream, grabbing hold of his chest and hollering as if in mortal agony. He turned around, reaching for the ripped-off vest, diving for it and going through the window, Shimmer gaping in surprise, chunks of the window stabbing into Carapace as he climbed out. Bits and pieces of the electronics store window had jutted into his hooves and his stomach and side as he staggered around, clutching the vest to his chest as his blood flowed freely out onto the ground below, Shimmer gasping softly in surprise, the Virtual Shimmer slowly turning around, looking back at him, holding the vest in his hooves and giving him a soft, Mona Lisa smile…before finally passing out in the streets, Shimmer gasping as he clutched at himself, shaking his head back and forth as he stared out at what lay before him as more and more of the sky began to tear open…

And with that…

He ran. And RAN. Shimmer the Changeling tore out of the city, breath ragged and pained, bolting like lightning through the streets, not intent on staying a single other second, tears flowing freely from his eyes as he left that old life and all that he had once been behind, New Hope becoming a slowly fading dot in the distance that was slowly rising up into the sky…never to be seen again.

And with that…the story of Shimmer the Pop Star truly DID end.

Dawning

DELIRUM:
Dawning

It had become a lovely morning despite the night’s best efforts. And though their bones ached and groaned, Twilight Sparkle and Spike the dragon awoke to a glorious sight…the moon was in the same sky as the sun and both cast down faint light and warmth upon the formerly-sleeping duo. Better still, Princess Luna was gazing down upon them with a faint air of big sister-esque concern, her expression soft like the water of a lake with a lunar reflection shimmering across it as her midnight mane flowed freely. She helped the two up as Spike let out a yawn, Luna leading them out of the sunken trench that they’d been sleeping in and along the natural road they’d been following, which opened up to a beautiful brook that kept fast, fresh water freely flowing past them as they trotted along.

“It’s beautiful out, is it not?” Luna admitted as she turned back to Twilight, who nodded in agreement as Spike rubbed the back of his neck with an air of nervousness.

“I have to admit, I’m glad you’re here…and to think, just a few years ago I’d never be saying such a thing.” The little dragon managed to mumble out as Luna waved a slightly dismissive hoof in the air.

“All is forgiven, young Spike. You and Twilight have nothing to fear from me anymore. The spirit that once possessed me has been long banished. And I assure you, when I WAS possessed by it, I was ten times scarier than anything you’ll encounter here.” Princess Luna admitted as they continued their way past the brook, leading them towards what appeared to be a faintly glowing light off in the distance, high above an enormous plains they could just barely make out…the plains where the city of New Hope had been built upon.

It was definitely a lovely morning for such a trip, a sunstruck morning with clear air that seemed to ring like a bell, and the wind was as an invisible hand, combing the rich green grass of the meadow they were walking in every which way it felt. Twilight closed her eyes and allowed the soft wind to feel her face as they continued moving down the path before the twinkling in the distance made Luna stop Twilight in place, and she pointed with a hoof. “Do my eyes deceive me, Twilight?” She wished to know as Twilight looked up at the skies above, realizing that what she was beholding was-

…a rip…in the sky. Like a stitch being slowly opened.

Just like the book had spoken of. Just like…

For a brief moment, there was absolutely nothing to be seen on the plains off in the distance, and then it began to flicker slowly into existence, the unmistakable beauty of a city on a hill, of gleaming, towering structures and pearly walls, the hustle and bustle of train whistles roaring through the air, along with a panicked, terrified unanimous series of cries. People were TERRIFIED. What in holy heck had just happened to them? What was going on?

“We need to get there NOW.” Twilight murmured as Princess Luna knelt down before her and Spike. “Oh, no, Princess, I can’t ask you-”

“You needn’t ask me when I am offering already what is natural to offer. We need to get over there as quickly as we can. I can fly. You cannot.” Luna said calmly. “Believe me, I feel no shame in humbling myself before such a dedicated student to my sister, and such a devoted historian…and, of course, I cannot forget her noble dragon, who so stalwartly joins her in deepest danger.” She added as she gave Spike a slight smile.

“We’re really not worthy!” Spike said with a deep blush as he and Twilight climbed atop of Luna’s back and she soared off through the clear blue skies towards the city, the people milling about in confusion and surprise before taking notice of the regal being that was flying high above them, who appered to have hair like the night, with such dazzling, beautiful eyes and skin…

“Who…ARE you?” One of them asked, kneeling by a thick-bodied Changeling that Twilight, despite never having seen him in person, somehow recognized.

“I am Princess Luna of Equestria. There is much we have to tell you. But this Changeling needs immediate medical attention…no doubt many in your city do.” Princess Luna said as she touched down before them all and bowed her head with a faintly regal air, Twilight and Spike getting off of her as Twilight raced over to Carapace the Changeling as he mumbled incoherently in a daze, Twilight wrapping some gauze around his bloodied stomach. “Please. Bring them to me. I’ll do everything I can to help them, and Twilight Sparkle and Spike here shall answer whatever questions we can. You must have so many.”

“I don’t think they’re the only ones.” Twilight admitted with a slight chuckle.

…

…he had run. Run through the cornfield, run through a natural apple orchard, and had settled down at long last in a far-off, hidden thicket in the far most northwest corner of an old meadow by said orchard. Shimmer the Changeling made up his mind that he would have to stay there, there was just nowhere else for miles. No city, no towns, and evidently no people. He’d been the only person to go this way when the city had vanished, unless maybe there were people still out there, searching around, hoping to find others like him.

In any case, he didn’t want to risk going anywhere else where there wasn’t food and a degree of shelter. He’d taken apples from the orchard and whatever little vegetables he could get from the meadow, and bits and pieces from the cornfield…whatever didn’t have bugs crawling all over them, anyhow. Though sometimes even that had to be ignored.

Luckily, though there were no towns, there WAS an old farmhouse, the last remnants of somebody else’s life that had been left behind to collect dust and rot. Whomever had lived out here was long gone, but at least Shimmer could still put their home to proper use, and he could write in his journal. He would sit on moldy blankets and made himself a bed of leaves, cooking vegetables with fires he made and sitting outside the farmhouse, hoping that one day the fires would attract someone to him. Just…someone.

Anyone.

But then winter set in…the coldest. The loneliest. He had to stay covered up constantly for days at a time, sometimes not even having the strength to move outside the farmhouse as he shivered in the cold. He’d occasionally turn himself into a bulkier, more hairy version of himself in a desperate attempt to stay warm, but his powers were being slowly ebbed away. He couldn’t feed on emotions anymore, not with no people. So eventually even that boon was beginning to fail, and all he was left with was the loneliness.

Not a single solitary soul appeared for an entire year. Not even any animals. So Shimmer just sat alone in the abandoned farmhouse, resting his head against the creaky old wall, as the faint images of his past played out before him, fading away in time like a mirage.

“I can’t…keep thinking about that.” He thought to himself over and over. “…I’m not Shimmer the pop star anymore. Not Shimmer the actor anymore. I’m just Shimmer the changeling…just some pony trying to stay alive. And I’m barely succeeding at that.”

But the second year was quite better. The animals were beginning to come out and approach the farmhouse now. The displacement of New Hope had seemingly unsettled all of nature, but now it was beginning to slowly retake root…and to take notice of him. He noticed animals would approach his farmhouse, and he’d just sit in the front door, looking at them as squirrels, chipmunks and little rabbits would approach. Soon they became wild cats and dogs, the occasional snake and frog, and then…a family of deer, at long last, came across the meadow and approached him, fascinated by this strange being with holes in its body.

Shimmer had reached out with a single hoof and felt their soft skin, and as he did, he felt the tears flow freely. Being able to just…feel something ALIVE, lifeblood flowing beneath his hoof, made him weep quietly, the tears trickling down his cheek. But he said nothing to them. He just softly stroked them, not saying a word. The word was the hurt. You couldn’t ruin a moment like this.

He would then begin leaving apples and corn out for the animals, and they would come more often to his farmhouse, providing him with his the first thing he really had to “company” in years. And sometimes the knowledge that this was all he had made him cry, as the lonely cry of an owl reminded him of what he’d lost. And other times he would just laugh as the sun cast its rays over him, and be grateful he was there. Still THERE, unlike the others, who were all gone…and he would feel a sense of pride. He was himself. He was ALIVE. He was there.

There was still hope.

It helped that he’d learned how to garden. He went searching around the meadow for vegetables that were growing, and would take wild seeds from tiny little tomato plants, beans, peas…he planted turnips and onions and of course, apples and corn. So he planted a garden by the farmhouse, and it became vibrant as time passed on…and of course, the animals.

“Sorry. MUST like vegetables.” He informed the bear, shaking his hoof back and forth before it as it slightly pouted.

He wouldn’t let an animal hang around the farmhouse or let it eat anything or any animal…unless it was a vegetable. That was just the way it would have to be. Now, he had different approaches for different animals. Sometimes he’d seemingly charm the little critters into taking the food.

“Come on…try this onion. It’s nice and juicy. Just try it.”

Other times, he’d just have to be harsher. “Look, fox, it’s either eat the squash or STARVE, cuz the chipmunks are off limits!”

Amazingly, the methods were working. Bit by bit. And Shimmer’s garden was growing larger. Soon he was expanding, building more and more of it, digging out new trenches to put more seeds down into.

It was then that he discovered it. It was a simple little thing but…it was pretty.

A little diamond, sparkling softly in the sunlight. But useless to him, except for one thing…it would look really, really lovely atop the farmhouse. It took him time, but he managed to bend a metal pole into something that could hold the diamond up atop the farmhouse, turning it and the pole into a makeshift weather vane that glittered brightly, even in the dead of night. A beacon better than any fire he’d ever lit.

With time, it would draw somebody else to the farmhouse. Or rather…somePONY else.

“…hi.”

Slowly but surely Shimmer the changeling poked his head out from behind the door he was hiding behind, shamefully looking down at the ground. “Oh, please, please, don’t look on me. I’m an absolute mess, and I haven’t taken a dip in the brook for three days, I must smell disgusting!” He insisted to the dark-haired pony. The minute he’d heard the unmistakable trotting of feet, he’d dived into the farmhouse out of a mixture of panic, nervousness and shame over how…SLOVENLY he appeared.

“Come on out, please.” She insisted, her voice oddly deep and solemn as Shimmer carefully made his way out of the farmhouse, head still hung as he looked away from her faintly…glittering…body? What?

He looked up at her, mouth slowly opening in surprise. Her body was…it shimmered in the light like the diamond he had high above the farmhouse. It glistened in the sunlight as her black hair fell down around her soft face, her eyes glittering faint green as she looked him over. “Your…your body. It’s…it is as beautiful as a black pearl.” He mumbled out. “I don’t deserve to be in the presence of one so beautiful, I’m a slob.”

“I’ve seen many animals coming this way. And when I saw the light above the farmhouse, I had to see who was bringing so many of them together. Now I understand why.” She said, approaching him as she held his cheek and lifted his head up. “Your eyes.” She whispered out. “They’re kind eyes, changeling. Good eyes. And a good face beneath all that dirt caked onto it.”

“I’m…sorry, I…” Shimmer began to shudder, cringing as he stepped back away from her. “Please, try to understand, I’m a “Ghainahm”, we feed off of negative emotions! I don’t want to just start sucking off of you. I’m afraid I might hurt you out of desperation, I’m…I’m so damned HUNGRY for emotions. It’s just been me and the animals for two years now and…everyone I knew and loved is gone along with the place I called home…” He whispered, resting his head in his hooves and shaking it slowly back and forth. “I can’t ever get back what I lost.”

“It doesn’t have to be the same.” The mare murmured out as he looked up into her face. “But that doesn’t mean it can’t still be good.” She went on…a single tear trickling down her cheek as Shimmer gasped slightly in surprise.

“You’re…”

“Grief is great, changeling. Let us be good to one another.” She murmured out.

Sympathy. Compassion. SADNESS…sadness for another, but still…sadness…

Shimmer deeply inhaled, wrapping his hooves around the mare as he breathed deep, inhaling her scent, like that of fresh licorice as the raw emotion wafted from off of her and through his body, his own tears freely flowing as he nuzzled against her cheek. In this one moment, they were becoming one, both sharing in each other’s sorrow, as she felt the pain he endured, and he felt the sadness she felt for him. A lovely, tingling sensation rose across his body like a thousand tiny little hooves massaging him across the fur, and Shimmer finally broke the embrace, looking into her eyes.

“Where are you from?” He murmured out.

“I come from a land of crystal and beauty.” She told him tenderly. “There are many of us who heard of the destruction of New Hope. We’ve taken many refugees in. Would you like to come with me?” She wanted to know.

Shimmer nervously glanced back at the farmhouse, cringing slightly as he saw the many animals emerging from the garden…all of them walking up to him, many nuzzling him as he returned the favor. For what seemed to be many hours he stood there, looking at them as they looked back at him. And then…

“One last journey.” He said aloud. “…will you follow me?” He asked of them all.

All seemed to nod at once, as he turned to the mare, nodding in agreement. “Take me there.” He said to her. “I’d like to see it for myself. And…to know you better.” He added. “Please. Tell me your name.”

“Umbra.” She said. “Don’t laugh, please. My whole family is very big on color names. I have a brother named Red and a sister named Pearl.”

“My name’s Shimmer. I won’t laugh. My whole family was big on names that emphasized flashy things.” The changeling laughed in return, as he, Umbra and the animals slowly made their trek through the fields, making their way to the north. Through hill and vane they travelled, walking across a lonely valley…until at last they disappeared into the trees, the meadow now far, far behind, and the last remnants of New Hope’s civilization with it.

…

… “The book you’ve written is positively fascinating.” Luna informed Twilight Sparkle as she looked in on an enormous room from behind large glass windows in Ponyville General Hospital’s mental ward. The princess of the night was there with Celestia to pay a visit to some of the residents in the hospital who were still left over from the large move from New Hope to Ponyville. New Hope was currently in shambles ever since it had come back from whatever it had fallen into when the sky had opened up. But it’s people were resilient. With time, and with patience and love…they would recover.

And what better place to do so than in the comforting embrace of Ponyville?

“They’ve got so much to learn about this new world they’ve been awakened to.” Princess Luna admitted. “But we’ve been doing everything we can for them to ease the transition. In a few more months, who knows?”

“I never thought Ponyville would be so open to letting so many Changelings be here, but they were all in such need of new homes, I guess we just couldn’t help ourselves!” Twilight admitted as Spike entered the room, looking over the book that Twilight had written, with the title “Delirum: From the Edge and Back Again”, the story of Shimmer the Changeling combined with her own experiences in seeking out where he had come from. Upon arriving in New Hope, she’d been brought the recently-deceased bodies of Sirocco and Hyacinth in the desperate hope that Princess Luna could aid them…

But as powerful as Luna was, nothing could be done except give them a few more minutes of life. Hyacinth had wanted to know where Shimmer was…Twilight couldn’t tell him. But the gryphon, Sirocco…

“Please…tell me he’s alright.” The gryphon had managed to ask, one arm wrapped around Twilight as Luna’s horn brightly glittered, a faint light slowly fading from the gryphon’s eyes. “Please tell me he got away.”

“He did.” Twilight gently informed him, holding the side of his face. “We’re gonna get Carapace help. And I’m going to let everyone know your story. You didn’t die for nothing. I promise.”

“…I hope…he was happy.” Sirocco murmured. “He’d like to know his story…made people…happy…”

“What a way to end it.” Spike admitted as he closed the book, sighing as he shook his head back and forth. “To think, Shimmer never knew what happened to his city.”

“But Sirocco was right. He would be happy to know his story reached so many people.” Twilight said as she looked down at the knapsack that hung around her waist, containting the original manuscript for the tale, and Shimmer and Hyacinth’s journals, which had contributed TO the manuscript. She smiled broadly down at Spike, patting him atop the head. “He lived a full life, Spike. He had children, a wife, family, and he never stopped telling people stories. And now he never WILL stop telling his story. With this and with the recordings of “Delirium” we uncovered from the studio, what he did will be reaching people for years to come.”

“It would be fortuitous indeed if the Changeling race could somewhat gain a semblance of normal peaceful existence in cooperation with us now that so many of their kind have taken shelter under our wing.” Luna admitted with a firm nod. “We have shown them we are willing to take the first step. The rest is up to them.”

“What about Mr. Carry?” Spike wanted to know as he pointed a claw through the glass window. Several changelings were sitting at tables, looking over history books with interest, their heads wrapped up in bandages. Others were hitting their heads against the wall, heads in helmets as nurses gently led them away to get a little snack and some medication. But one changeling was most noticeable of all, a bulky “Keobjil” type changeling who was holding onto some flowers and walking across the room as he murmured to himself.

“Thank you so much for the pretty flowers. You always bring me such lovely roses. I’ll just go find a vase to put them in…they’re so pretty…so pretty…” Carapace the Changeling mumbled to himself as Luna sighed, shaking her head back and forth as she glanced from him to Twilight and Spike.

“I have been inside his dreams and attempted to aid him just as I have done all I can to aid these poor, unfortunate souls.” Princess Luna sighed out, hanging her head. “But alas. Though he occasionally has minor flashes back to his normal persona, he continues to remain deluded.”

“Yes, I’ll put them in my room…they’re pretty. So pretty…”

“I know that we’ll never see that person ever again. But thanks to Carry…Shimmer became the person that told me this story.” Twilight admitted as her horn glowed softly and the journal floated out from her knapsack before her, and she turned the pages until she reached the very last one, a single sentence being all that remained.

“I am Shimmer. And I…am the real deal.”

Delirium

Identity

Violation

Desecration

Folie à Deux

Dawning

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