There was a downpour that day; the day he found her. Fletcher hung his head and sighed. Ignoring the rain water streaming down his smooth chitin, he simply stared at his reflection in a puddle. He had been aimlessly wandering down a muddy road for the last several hours, with no particular destination in mind. Having long since been exiled from the hive, he didn’t have anywhere he had to be, no missions to complete, or duties to fulfill.

He closed his right eye for a moment, to see a full view of the scar in his reflection. When he was exiled, he was given the customary scar in the shape of an X. The enchanted blade prevented changelings' natural healing abilities from taking effect, and since a changeling's wounds show through their disguises, an unhealable scar made it quite impossible to fool any creature into believing you were their loved one.

Without the hive to exchange emotions with, and no easy way to get love from another creature, exiled changelings could only survive by disguising themselves as a stranger, and living off of smiles and/or feelings of fondness, which was much like living off bread crusts and potato skins.

Fletcher didn’t really care though, seeing as how he would never take the route of replacing a loved one, anyway. He was a little different that way, because he only believed in one thing: protecting his allies. He didn’t believe in hurting others, or feeding on their love. The only way he would harm another being is if they threatened his comrades. Then they were shown the jaws of Tartarus.

It was because of his strong beliefs, however, that he wound up in exile. He was among the Queen’s elite guard and he protected his Queen and his comrades with precision and a silent fury. He was a legend in the hive, but that changed very quickly when the Queen launched a plan to invade the deer nation of Atalanter. Fletcher believed in protecting his nation, not in conquering others, and he refused the take part in the invasion. Which promptly landed him with an X on his eye, and no place to call home.

For the first few months of his exile, Fletcher wandered from town to town in the land of Equestria, since taking pony-form required the least amount of love energy. He would kindly greet anypony he saw, to earn their smiles. He would even perform small gestures, like picking up a bundle of roses, and walking around hoofing them out to the mares to get a taste of their hearts fluttering, but that’s all he would do. He was happy to eat ‘bread crusts’ and ‘potato skins’ because he knew they didn’t cost the ponies anything.

When changelings feed on the love somepony feels for a family member, that pony will begin to feel colder and colder the longer the changeling feeds on them, until they get sick. Then, if the changeling doesn’t withdraw at that stage, the victim can easily die in as little as a week. That was why Fletcher also refused to take the route of forming a brand new relationship with a pony. Emotional pain was just as real as physical pain, (plus the whole ‘sucking the life out of them till they’re dead’ thing) and he wouldn’t do that to somepony. Especially not a pony.

Every pony was different, and not all of them were nice, but as a species in general, ponies were among the kindest in the world. The kindest of which was his teacher, a broken horned unicorn by the name of Discerning Spell, or Dizzy Spell as he’d asked to be called. He was the first non-changeling ever, to give Fletcher his trust despite knowing what he really was. It was then that Fletcher discovered that if a creature was aware of a changeling, any feelings they gave them did not cause the creature to have any of the usual side effects. This was what allowed Fletcher to stay with, and learn from Dizzy for the past 5 years.

And what amazing things he did learn from that unicorn. Dizzy Spell wasn’t even middle aged, yet his knowledge seemed infinitely beyond his years. In fact, after his horn was broken, denying him anything beyond basic spells and levitation, Dizzy managed to master many ancient, and forgotten techniques that used Pegasus and Earth pony magics. Fletcher had no idea where he learned them, but because he deemed Fletcher to be a creature of good character, Dizzy Spell taught him these techniques, with the pretense that he would use them to continue to protect others from harm. It also helped, that the changeling could physically become a Pegasus or Earth pony, making learning much easier.

Dizzy was a kind and patient teacher, and a wonderful friend to Fletcher. He missed him.

Fletcher’s ear twitched when a sudden sound brought him out of his memories. It seemed to come from further up the road and around the bend. It sounded like breaking glass and splintering wood. Now he could hear some kind of skirmish and various voices yelling and screaming.

Keeping close to the treeline beside the road, the changeling quietly stalked toward the sounds. Peering from behind a few trees, Fletcher caught a glimpse of a pony carriage. Its rear axle had been broken and its windows and door had been smashed open. The couple that must have owned the carriage had been thrown into the mud. The stallion was shaking and holding something to his chest, while the mare didn’t seem to be moving at all. They were surrounded by five bulky gryphons wearing masks. Most of them were wielding clubs wrapped in chicken wire, but one of them was armed with a small crossbow.

Fletcher’s eyes narrowed. He didn’t like gryphons very much. So far, every gryphon he ever met was either threatening his allies, or in this case, threatening innocent ponies.

Fletcher hadn’t taken his first step forward, when he heard the crossbow fire... then the sound of a crying foal.

These gryphons were about to have a Very. Bad. Day.

Author's Notes:

And it begins...

Hey Folks, Doctor Dizzy here. Very excited to get this story started up and running. I sincerely hope you enjoy it.

If you like it be sure to show it with a thumbs up or a fav. Ooooh and comment! Doc likes his comments.