In the darkness under the canopy of wild vegetation, one could have made out the broken moonlight the descended upon the earth, so ripe with life and rich in activity at all times. With the uninterrupted sounds and calls of the animals, only one in the vicinity was not awake and ready to either eat, play, or mate.

That is, until, he got a rude awakening from his new best friend.

“WAKE UP.”

“HOLY SWISS FUCK.” Kestral shot up from the sitting position against the tree, apple cores falling off his chest, and two-thirds empty bottle still in hand.

“Good, you're awake. I was wondering how loud it'd need to be.” Chimed in a giggly voice.

“Ugh...what time is it? Never mind I’m late anyway.” He answered his own question in his stupor.

“It's about two-thirty in the morning.” Discord said in a moderately more serious manner. “Had to sleep off some of the good stuff did we?”

“T- two-thirty? Jesus that's early. And I assume you have a good reason for such timing?” His focus was quickly regaining from the disturbed rest, and he touch-checked all of his equipment to confirm it's presence.

“I do.” Discord took a deep breath as he prepared for the small headache he was about to endure. “It's to show you what you'll be doing for the next few months.”

If Kestral had any part of his mind not paying attention, he didn't anymore. His spine stiffened a tad as he took in the words. He began moving around, popping his joints, and stretching his muscles in anticipation of the next few words.

“But first,” Discord set in, killing Kestral's building anxiety, “I have a gift I know you'll love.”

Before he could respond to such a vague statement, Kestral flinched at a sudden pop right in front of him. He threw out his arms and tossed it around several times before he could manage to grasp it correctly. What was in front of him surprised him a bit. It was a folded up piece of cloth, light brown and about the size of his palm.

After flicking on a flame to get a better view, he examined it closely. On it, was a simple circle. In the center, a fragment of the circle was filled in with ink, going to the edge, and covering somewhere between ten and fifteen degrees of the circle. The pointer was pointing somewhere off into the town that he could only barely see through the thicket of trees.

“It's a compass...I think. It doesn't have any cardinal directions on it.” He stated curiously.

“You're right, but I think that was just a good guess. And it uses ordinal directions only.”

Kestral moved it around a bit. Not matter how he turned it, the ink would keep up and move around, forcing it to always point toward the town.

“Now open it up.” Discord said, with a giggly undertone.

Kestral complied, though more out of curiosity than anything. He unfolded the piece of cloth until it was a thin layer with the length and width of a square foot. Much more ink was present. At the top center was a term he was unfamiliar with, “Ponyville”. The lettering reminded him of an old-English technique that looked visually similar to cursive, but each letter was broken and lacked the connection to each adjacent character.

The map itself was pretty simple. A large number of boxes and circles were present, organized into lines, columns and odd shapes that seemed to be solely defined by the larger gaps between groups, presumably being roads. A star shape sat at the top edge, a small distance away from nearby houses. A bit further down, one of the smaller blocks was grayed out some.

“Hey, why's this one darker? That the one I was at?” He asked, already knowing the answer.

“Mhm. Go ahead and touch it.” He tried to make is sound like an innuendo, but the verbal irony was lost on Kestral.

He tapped it and, to his moderate surprise, it popped up a list of information on it. Information he already knew, but nothing else. A bullet list on one side showed the few things he stole, and another on the opposite, showing things he spotted that were of interest. Below, in the middle, shows info like the fact he has a key for the place. He swiped away at the box and it disappeared , seemingly reading his intent.

“I got the idea from those G-P-S things you humans have. Though, It doesn't show anything you don't already know. Just keeps it for a reminder.”

Suddenly, a few of the squares were changed to include a black 'X' in the middle, making them pop out easily.

“These are some of the tainted homes I’ve found. There may be more later, but we'll burn that bridge when we get there. For now, make your way to one and get inside, I’ll explain once you see it for yourself.”

Before he could ask another question, Kestral had realized Discord was gone, and he was alone for the trip there. With not much else to do, he began making his way towards the road, flame still in front of him, and map still in hand. Every few moments he would look at the star at the top and, as he expected, it moved as he did.

Kestral, ever so caring, took note of where the nearest X was on the map. Just a few blocks into the town, no big deal. He folded up the map again into the square cloth with a circle on it, and noted that it was pointing in the same direction the house is. He wadded folded it again and crammed it in one of his chest pockets.

Hitting the road finally, he looked around and took note as he did earlier that night. The same houses were present, but all the lights were off, save for one far off to the left, for unknown reasons. Kestral started walking down the side of the dirt road and flicked off his flame. The moon was bright enough in the clear night sky to see where one was going, so the flame would make him only easier to spot should more guards cross his path.

As he was nearing one of the first houses, Kestral decided that he didn't want to haul a bottle around in his hand as he was. He opened up his satchel and was about to place it in the larger pocket, only to stop himself. He observed the bottle, and it occurred to him that the cork wasn't on. He had never put it back on after he popped it open the previous night. Kestral didn't know many properties of alcohol aside from toxicity and flammability, but he thought it was an educated guess to say to wouldn't be very good after setting in open air for several hours.

So, as he walked by a house, he casually placed it on a window sill, leaving it for whoever wished to deal with it's existence.

Before he passed the house, he checked around the corner of the entire street, to ensure it was clear before he ventured forward. As it was, there were no signs of life, so he moved his body no quicker than a walk. It was not that he was tired, or apathetic to the situation. It was that he did not want to spend energy then just to tire out when he might have needed it.

Two houses were passed again, and as before, no signs of life in the street. The process of walking around so early is not one he was unfamiliar with, but it was something he neglected to do often. It was not something he wanted to make a habit of, but soon, he felt, he would need to use it much more often, given he had to keep out of sight completely instead of just blending in with the crowd like he was used to.

Another two houses. This time, however, Kestral spotted a pair of silvery guards walking away on the road to his left. He waited a moment to ensure they were gone. He pulled out his 'compass' and began walking again, watching the ink carefully. As he neared the next set of houses, it made small movements toward the right. Right as he passed the second house, it shifted, focusing straight at it.

Just to ensure it is indeed the right house, he unfolded the cloth and observed the star, which was right on top of a crossed out house. He lapped up the material and placed it back in his chest pocket.

He scrutinized the house. It looked similar to the house he had last entered, but it seemed more worn on the outside. A sideways glance wouldn't tell the difference, but close examination showed the paint pealing slightly, and the wear on the wood and windows present. Nothing damaged, just slight wear on the overall look of it.

On the side was two windows, both near the ends, both sporting flowers on the sills. As he moved forward, he could see two more windows on the front of the house, along with one in the middle of the door, though hazy, and only meant to let generic lighting in. The yellow painting on the house let off a calm look in the moonlight.

Kestral checked around the front door for any whereabouts of a key. Again, no such luck was present. He twisted the knob, only for it to stop immediately after. With no obvious entry into the front door, he moved around the windows, checking to see if any happened to be open. He checked the side he came up on earlier when the fronts failed to be useful, and to the back when that one did as well. When he got to the back, he saw something he was glad to see. A window was cracked open, and as far as Kestral could tell, the lock was unlatched as well.

He slid his fingers under the bottom, got down a bit, and pulled. Unfortunately, it did not budge. He tried again, harder. It still did not move an inch. He pulled out his fingers and cursed his luck. Whatever was holding it down, he could not tell, but it was formidable. With a crowbar he probably would have been able to pry it open, but he had no such device on his body.

He moved around to the other window, just for it to be locked as well. He tried opening the back door, at this point just for kicks, with similar result. He moved around the side and tried the last window on the bottom floor. It, too, failed to comply. Well crap. Now how do I get in? He looked up and saw another window above him. He would have simply passed on it and tried to find a crowbar, but he noticed something different. The window was halfway open, and something was sticking out of it.

Sweet. Kestral grinned at another stroke of luck. He looked at the lower window, and removed the plants that were set upon the edge. He placed one foot on it and prepared himself. He believed he could make the jump, given how small these houses seemed to be. He forced his lower leg to spring up, then made the other burst out as well, sending him up enough to barely grab hold of the edge. He scraped the wall with his feet until he got a grip, then using both arms and legs he traversed the upward distance in a slow manner.

When he got leveled to the window, he did his best to hold his self up while he pushed up the bottom half of his self. When he finished, he leaned in a bit to get a good look at what was in front of him. A telescope from the looks of it. Luckily for him, as he pushed it to the side it spun without restriction. With that out of his way, he pressed forward through the window, and pulled himself through.

THUMP

Of course, it would have been better for him to have been more quiet about it. He lied still on the ground, waiting a moment to get up. The second rule of sneaking is that if one makes a loud, sudden noise, one must ensure one does not repeat it. The first time, it is often shrugged off, unless followed up by another.

Slowly, he ascended to his feet and observed his surroundings. Several pictures of stars were scattered on the wall, along with pinned up dates next to small rocks. Next to the window were two bookshelves filled with astrology related material. A small stack of paper lay next to a desk on the side wall. The moonlight was bright enough that he didn't really need to light a fire, so he smothered his light. He walked to the opposite side, where a rail and hard wood stairs were located, and began a descent.

“More than likely, the target is in the basement. Don't tarry.” Discord kicked in. His command was short and seemingly urged Kestral to accelerate his actions so he may be over with this house already.

With a more specific location to go, he only stayed long enough to know where exactly it was. As he got down, he took in the house, piece by piece. Immediately to his front was the kitchen, smaller than the last house, and looking to be solely practical. A wall was to his left, and to his right was a living room, furnace being on the far wall. He took a step forward and looked to the back of the house. A hallway sticks out the corner of the living room, presumably toward a set of bedrooms.

To his right he spotted, as he walked out from the steps, was a door that he could not identify immediately, located right under the staircase. He turned the handle and opened it, letting off a small creak that Kestral had wished was not present. Inside, the shadows ate away at the dim light, so he flicked on a flame in front of him, revealing another descending passage.

He put one foot in front of the other and went down the steps carefully. He tread silently, ensuring his boots did not clack against the wood. As he hit the floor of the basement, he swatted away the small chunks of dust that invaded his space, along with the slight aroma of alcohol. He took note of the large barrel that was placed on the opposite wall, dripping every few moments into a puddle no larger than six inches in diameter

What Kestral saw next crept him out enough for his spine shiver much longer than comfortable. What he saw, as he walked up to it, was two large, green, flesh-looking masses. Each one had a thick and durable looking, black base stretching from the ground that was against the wall, up the wall itself and ending just after hitting the ceiling. It looked as if spider webs as thick and strong as muscle was used to stick the softer inside in one place.

“And this,” Discord said sickeningly, “ is what we call a changeling.”

Kestral walked up to one of the pods. With the light he could easily see the contents of the green goop enveloped in a thin membrane. A quadruped creature with black plating surrounding it's exterior floated gently inside, eyes closed. Translucent wings fluttered by it's side every so often, as if it were reacting in a dream-scape to open skies and high altitudes. Barely, Kestral could see curves and gaps within the appendages of the creature, serving no obvious purpose other than either making it weigh less, or as some kind of genetic ward against having strong legs.

“An interesting species, is it not?”

He looked around what he could, but could not get a better look at the horse-bug hybrid in front of himself. “Sure is.” He replied in a slow, distracted tone.

“Now that you see this situation in front of you, I shall explain in necessary detail.” Discord said, progressively getting more monotonous in voice, almost as if he had explained this all before. Kestral stepped over to the other pod, and took in the details there, letting the silence continue.

“These pods here serve two purposes.” He paused. “To allow a changeling to rest, while connecting to it's hive mind for communicated slumber, is the first. It also can house the body of another creature, which it will render unconscious and susceptible to biological and mental attacks.”

He observed the pony held within the organic sludge. At the awkward upward angle the pony was facing, he was able to decide it was a 'she' very quickly. The coat seemed to be a lime green color, but Kestral could not tell if that was the real case or simply an effect of the fluid she was swimming in. Aside from those, the only other detail he can make out is that she is a pegasus.

“What you see in front of you is an example of both. Unfortunately, there is a minor detail that changes everything.”

Kestral curiously focused on the tiny squiggles that were floating around in the fluid, as if with purpose. “And that is...?”

Discord decided to take a less direct approach, though one that will help Kestral learn a bit about what he was dealing with. “Look between the two pods and tell me what you see.”

He moved in front of the suggested location and observed a large, cable-like piece of chitin connecting each pod at about neck height for each creature before him. The mass of flesh was stuck against the wall, so he moved close to observe it. “Uh, I think I found giant umbilical cord.” Kestral halfheartedly joked.

“That is a more accurate statement than you realize.” He replied, in all seriousness.

He made a slightly disturbed expression at the idea before he became curious enough to override it. “Wait, so the bug is eating her?”

“That is simply a byproduct of this distinct process.” Said Discord. “What he is attempting right now is an efficient form of mimicking. The changeling steals a sliver of the pony's life in exchange for being able to move around as a look alike without being detected by traditional magic.”

Kestral sat on that information for a moment, and decided he can come back to the actual task in a moment, and chose to veer off the conversation so he could learn more. “So, since you said this is different, I’m assuming this isn't their usual behavior?”

“That is correct. This is only a process that they use when they either absolutely cannot be found out, or no longer care about killing their food.”

“How does the disguise work, though. If they can be found before, what makes this different?”

“Well,” Discord began, “normally it works by a changeling simply using it's magic to put on a pony's coat as his own. This way was very easy to uncover the insects. The way you see in front of you,” he paused, “is more efficient. It infuses very small amounts of DNA into the changeling, causing scan spells to simply not see them as changelings. Not only that, but they sever off their telepathic link while in deep cover like this to ensure more focus and less being caught.”

“And after so many nights of doing that, the pony dies.” Kestral finished.

“Precisely. This is what I want you to prevent.” He replied.

“Okay,” he began, “I understand what you need of me. But if you can talk to me, why can't you warn the ponies instead of bringing me here?”

“Simple. I have warned her majesty Celestia about this, but she refuses to believe me on the context that she has just defeated the changelings.” He paused. “Another reason is that you can take care of them without being noticed, so you can keep suspicion from rising that one person is linking each of the 'incidents'.” At least for a while. He thought.

Kestral thought carefully on this information, feigning his current study of the large fleshy cord that was strung between the two, and instead, his mind was on a more difficult matter. “So, do you want them caught or killed?” He asked, trying not to stall any longer.

“Killed. If they are 'caught' after having seen you, they can spread around they idea that you are present, and even just escape afterward. It will make your life much easier just to kill them.”

“Alright, I see your point.”

Kestral backed up a couple steps, looking away from the connection and observed the pod to his left, where the over-sized insect was laying. As he looked at it he immediately saw a problem. The membrane that held the changeling was ripped and some of the odd goop was pulled out of the chamber. As he quickly looked to the end of the gelatin trail, he found the source of the problem. A changeling was standing right behind him, fangs bared, and looking pretty pissed at his intruder.

“Well shit.”

The changeling wordlessly sprung at him, maw open, fully intending to rip his throat out.

Kestral sidestepped it and ducked a little, causing the bug to miss completely, and end up hitting the lower front of the pony's pod. He turned and jumped towards the head of the insect, wanting to squash it with his steel-toe boots, but missed as the bug rolled out of the way just in time.

The insect flared up its horn with green light, hoping to make this a one-touch knockout. It flared it's wings and crouched for extra power. The bug made another jump at him, but he was ready. As it flew, Kestral threw his hands around and propelled the bug behind him, smashing it's face into the wall. Before he could give it a chance to make a comeback, he grabbed it's horn and his knife at the same time. He pulled it's head back and plunged the blade into the large blue eye staring at him.

The moment he did this, the changeling froze up, before slowly going limp without even a grunt in pain.

He let the body drop without protest. “Well then. I guess that means one house is out of the way.” Kestral took a step over the changeling corpse and looked at the pony's prison.

“It would be best to get her out. She won't wake up on her own as long as she's in there.” Discord said.

With a swing of the blade, Kestral sliced open the pod, spilling green goop all over the floor in front of him. He sheathed the knife and grabbed hold of the pony, pulling her out of the mess. He held her like one would a large dog while carrying her upstairs. Upon exiting the doorway he hurried over to the couch and laid her down on her back. Her breathing became more regulated as time went on, and he lost any care about her presence, given she was in no immediate danger.

“Now you know what to do. Can I trust you to help as many ponies as possible?” Discord asked, already knowing the answer.

“Yes. You can.” Kestral replied, now knowing what the coming weeks will consume his time with.

“Good. I shall keep adding to the targets as often as I can. If you need me, just tap on the compass a few times. Good luck.” And with that, Discord's voice left.

Silent once again became the superior sound, aside from the mild snoring coming from the pegasus below Kestral. He wouldn't admit it, but there was a certain giddiness he felt from going from a wanted criminal that was framed to a hunted dark-hero. He felt as if he should really practice his batman voice.

He refocused, and remembered that he still has a couple of targets that he could get before dawn-break. Of course, he had a good amount of time to do it, but he also wanted to find any good food and cash. Immediately he turned around and looked longingly at the kitchen. He walked off into it and began looking through the pantry, hoping to find another good stash of foods. His faithful flame lit up even brighter than before.

As he was looking through, he noticed that some of the fruits had gone bad, indicating that the changeling was there for a while, but not too long as there were some foods still unexpired. Another cabinet held boxes of donuts and cookies, so it may have gotten a sweet tooth while it was here. Not much was present that was useful so Kestral simply grabbed what small sweets there were and put them in his bag. Perhaps the next house would have more to choose from.

He closed his bag again and moved around to find the bedroom. It was across the living room, so he moved around and headed straight towards it. Upon entering, he found a rather humble room; One with unpainted lumber for walls, tall candles on a nightstand next to a bed, and an open wardrobe with clothing strewn about. He went for the nightstand and checking the top drawer. A sack of gold was there, along with a half-written letter. He grabbed the sack and placed it in another of his many pockets.

The lower drawer held nothing of interest, so Kestral got out of the room and looked passively over the rest of the house. Not much would be useful, if taken, so the rest of the house was left untouched. He walked up the stairs and passed through the stargazing room. He hopped up onto the edge, then jumped down to the ground, only giving him a mild shock in his legs.

With more resolve than before, he pulled out the map in his pocket and picked the next house. It was a bit away, so he needed to work quickly.

Kestral placed the map back and took his first steps into his new purpose.