Yep. It's been a long time.
Yep. There's a massive word count. Nope, I will not apologize for it. Pace yourselves.

Doctor? Is that you?

Hi Sweety, it's good to see you again.

YOU'RE BACK!!! *Glomp*

Hahaha I missed you too, Sugar.

It's been soooo long...

Yeah.... folks might wanna reread some previous chapters...

Anyway, a few notes before we start:

The best way to describe what Master Dizzy sounds like, is a cross between Jack Sparrow and the 10th Doctor (couldn’t really find a way to describe that in-story).

I use different scene breaks:
-------------------------------------- indicate short time cuts just like before, whereas
---------------**:**------------------ indicate time cuts of several weeks or months, since this chapter covers various events over the span of five years

Please enjoy. (Those of you who have been waiting the whole two and a half years since the last update have most certainly earned it.)

The sun bore down hard over the badlands, the air hot and dusty. Four black hooves plodded along in the dirt, jostling Fletcher’s weary head with every step. He was long past the point of exhaustion, but he’d been walking for so long that his body was now operating on autopilot. It would actually take a conscious effort to get his legs to stop... but he was too tired to afford even that. That, and he knew that if he stopped, he wouldn’t be able to keep going.

He’d managed a week. One whole week of refusing to give in to his basic needs. He’d sworn off taking love from non-changelings a long time ago, and rather than feed himself at the cost of someone else, he endeavored to convince his body to shut down.

Unfortunately, the body has this rather annoying tendency of taking self preservation seriously. His every attempt at calming himself down resulted in his body panicking, screaming in his head about the hunger pains like an inconsolable child. Eventually he couldn’t take it anymore, and in an attempt to sedate the little crybaby, he picked a random direction and just started walking.

At least... he told himself it was random. But of course, his stupid brain knew exactly which direction he has going. It knew exactly what creatures it would find there, and it calculated exactly what the trade off was between the cost of energy for a disguise of that species and the potential energy he could regain, and that of all directions, this was the most efficient option. He was bound for the Equestrian border.

Sometimes he hated his body and its hardwired brain.

There’s food this way, he could almost hear it saying.

That’s right, but that doesn’t mean you get to have any! he chastised himself. The whole situation was not dissimilar to a parent losing an argument with an overly exuberant child.

Feed me, it whined.

No. You’re going to go to sleep. Permanently.

I don’t wanna!

Well, it’s not up to you, is it!?

… you don’t wanna, either, he heard it pout.

…

It had him there. He’d been trying this whole time to tell himself that he was prepared, but if he was completely honest, he didn’t want to die.

It wasn’t fair. Why should he have to choose between dying and hurting someone else? In fact, why did changelings have to feed on emotion anyway?! Why couldn’t they just eat food like everyone else! ...Well, eat food and actually use it for nourishment, instead of just converting it to plasma.

He sighed. Changelings are a stupid species.

But this changeling is smart, a voice from the back of his mind whispered.

That’s… true, he mused.

Whether he was modest about it or not, he couldn’t deny the fact that the hive was free today because of his tactics. Maybe… he could think of something…

Impersonation was obviously off the table with the new scar on his face. That left using an original disguise, which was more than unfavorable. But maybe there was a rule he missed after all this time he’d been blotting the subject from his mind. He tried to think back to what Wooly said all those years ago... but the memories made him cringe.

Come on Fletcher, be a big colt and GET OVER IT! Your life is on the line now, he told himself.

He took in a long breath and let it out slowly, before allowing himself to think back to that horrible moment in Miss Cream Puff’s bathroom.

“Why didn’t you report that you were receiving love from someone?”

“Aren’t we supposed to gather love, Ba-tem?”

“Not with an original disguise, Bo-nem, not for this long. That pony is going to die because you let her give you too much love, and you didn’t tell These ones it was happening all this time.”

“W-what?”

“And now there’s nothing These ones can do because there is no real Roasted Chestnut to divert her love back to. This is why you need to report these things, Bo-nem!”

“No one ever told This one receiving love would kill anyone!”

“That’s why we usually abort and return the impersonated targets before the subjects get sick, or before they get attached to an original disguise.”

Fletcher’s eyes opened. ...not for this long...abort before they get attached… That meant there was a window of time!

But how could he know how long the window was? And how did his hivemates abort an original disguise when the situation arose?

“Your only hope of saving that filly, is if you somehow manage to wake her up… and get her to hate you...”

Of course! He’d be able to feel it if someone liked him too much, and he could always just cut the love stream off by making them hate him! He could do this! He could make it!

So he kept walking, this time with purpose, towards the Equestrian border. He had an extremely limited amount of love energy left, but like his brain had already calculated for him, he had just a little more than enough for one pony disguise. But once he used it he would be dangerously close to spent, and it would be anyone’s guess as to whether or not he would have the strength to get there. The question became: does he transform now and hope he manages to make it there, or does he get there first and hope he has enough energy left for a transformation?

…

He sighed and made the most minimal transformation he could: black fur, blue eyes, dark grey mane and tail, and a simple plus sign for a cutie mark. If he was going to die as a result of not having enough energy, he’d rather do it out in the middle of nowhere, than in a town with a perfectly good, yet unattainable, source of love sitting right in front of him.

Several hours later, here he was, plodding along on autopilot in the blistering heat. It was looking less and less like he was going to make it. He was on his last leg, and if memory served, which it usually did, he was still only ¾ of the way to the closest town.

“Huff*, huff*… so… tired…” he panted.

He collapsed with a thump.

“Huff*, huff*… sorry, Kiddo..... we tried. ...Looks like we’re going...... to take that nap after all,” he said to himself. He let out a sigh, as his tired and aching legs finally found rest.

But--

“Shhhh,” he whispered. “It’s okay now. Just sleep…”

Sleeeeeeep…

“Yes… sleep…”

His heavy eyelids slowly gave out, and enveloped his world in darkness.

-------------------------------------------

“TRAITOR!”

“HOW COULD YOU!”

“WE TRUSTED YOU!”

“THE FOALINGS LOOKED UP TO YOU!”

Fletcher was on the same platform he’d addressed the hive from as the Alpha General, but this time, instead of an arbiter of hope, he was a scourge to Hive and Queen. He was chained upright to an X shaped stone, displaying him and his new mark of shame for all to see. His heart burned as the love he had felt from everyone all his life slowly changed to feelings of hurt, bitterness, and anger.

While the majority of the hive would shun traitors on their own, there would always be those few close ones that would have difficulty snuffing out their loyalty completely. Which was exactly what this ceremony was for. Since a Queen couldn’t feasibly stop every hive member from sharing any love with an exile, the more sensible solution was a spell that erased all the hive’s emotional signatures from the exile’s memory. Any one of them could walk right by him in disguise and, while he’d be able to detect that they were changelings, Fletcher wouldn’t be able to tell them apart from a changeling he’d never met.

The cruelest part of the spell and this ceremony was that for about a day or so, the exile would lose the ability to sense presences at all. Which meant Fletcher was about be truly alone for the first time in his life.

Tears ran down his left cheek in silence, his right eye no longer able to bear them. The room was filled with indignant cries of anger, and cruel heckling from changelings he had considered to be his family.

Mizer wasn’t there. He couldn’t bring himself to leave the discipline room when the other Elites dragged Fletcher here.

Fletcher could sense a few of the foalings, most of which didn’t understand what was going on, but had taken their cue from the anger they felt in the adults. Standing among them were three in particular, who weren’t directing any anger towards Fletcher. They were just lost and confused.

Fletcher heard their ping: Why?

His eyes squeezed shut, releasing streams of tears. They would never be told what really happened in that throne room. The only answer he had for them was love. Both as a ping, and the actual emotion, from the deepest part of his burning heart.

An attendant entered the stronghold and announced with a loud voice, “Her Majesty, Queen Atlas!”

The Elites next to Fletcher slipped a black bag over his head as the Queen entered the room and alighted on the platform before him.

“You have betrayed your Queen and this Hive, and you shall be cast out like the scum you are!” she shouted for all to hear. “Any last words?” she asked coldly.

Fletcher was quiet. He had no words for her, but he sent the rest of the hive two pings. Every one of them was told that he loved them, and that he would miss them.

The Queen didn’t wait in silence for long.

“Very well, Traitor.”

She turned to the hive and yelled, “No one speaks!”

She charged the spell, one of the cruelest in her arsenal, and fired it at Fletcher’s exposed stomach.

The spell itself wasn’t painful, but pain would no less be rearing its ugly head. Fletcher’s breathing quickened as everyone’s presence began to fade away.

“No.”

He pulled against the chains and shook his head, trying in vain to get the bag off so he could see them. Many presences disappeared completely, and he began to hyperventilate.

“No!”

The last presences left were those that had served as his beta generals(sans the Queen), a few from his various squadrons, and three little foalings. They all faded in turn, until the only one remaining was little Mint.

“No,” he breathed, “please no.”

The last thing he felt from her, was that she was scared... for him, until her presence too faded away into the darkness.

Fletcher thrashed around in agony, yanking against the chains.

“No, NO! Where are you!” he cried out.

No response. There was nothing but darkness.

He broke down and wept. For the first time in his life, Fletcher was afraid of the dark.

-------------------------------------------

Wake up little love bug, it’s not your time yet.

“Mmm?.... What?” Fletcher mumbled groggily.

Up you get, Sweety~

“W-who...are you?” he muttered as his eyes blinked awake.

Fletcher gasped and his eyes went wide. He was still alive!

Wait, who was that?

He sat up and looked around.

“Hello?” he called out.

He had heard a mare’s voice, but there was noone around. The only living things within sensing range were lizards and various rodents. What was stranger still, was that he had energy. Not much, but enough to move with.

He should have been dead, though! This kind of thing didn’t just happen… at least, not to his recollection.

Hearing voices in his head, and miraculously still breathing with no source of love in the vicinity…

...could it be?

“Hello?” he called again. “F-Faust?”

A long moment’s pause... but no response.

Fletcher shook his head. Nonsense. Regardless of how it happened, he had more pressing things to worry about at the moment than changeling myths that may or may not exist.

He shakily got up to his hooves and continued on the path he was bound.

---------------------------------------------

Several hours later, Fletcher finally stumbled into a small town. He leaned up against the first lamp post he saw and tried to catch his breath. He was feeling a little dizzy again, but at least he was here now.

As he looked around he saw several ponies in the streets, going about their business.

Never thought I’d find myself in a place like this again.

Now the question was, what should he do to get some love? He thought about all the techniques he’d been taught but never put into practice. Most of them seemed a little too risky for what he was trying to do.

Well, let’s just start simple then.

He got up and started walking down the street. The first pony he came across was a light orange mare. When they made eye contact, he gave her a friendly smile. Just before they passed, she smiled back.

Success!

It wasn’t a lot of energy by any means, but he’d forgotten just how much more potent love from a pony was. A smile from a hive-mate wouldn’t even be noticeable.

After a few more successful runs with mares, stallions, and foals alike, he decided to take it up a notch: compliments.

As he walked, he saw a purple mare up ahead with a well groomed, fuchsia mane and tail. She looked like an actual fuchsia flower. She was wearing a white sun hat with a ribbon that matched her mane.

Hmm, pretty. I can work with that.

As their eyes met, he smiled.

“Hello,” he greeted.

Her lips curled up a little.

“Hi.”

“I um… I like your hat. It works very well with your natural colors,” he said.

“Oh, thank you very much! I um… like your cutie mark?” she replied, obviously returning the compliment for the sake of it. “What does it mean?”

Fletcher’s mind went blank as he regarded his mark. A white plus sign, the most basic thing he could think of at the time that would still look like something. What does it mean? … And why didn’t I sort out any back story before now!

As far as he was aware, stallions that did nothing but math all day long weren’t very exciting to mares. That wouldn’t help him with his goal of being liked.

“Um… I’m a Doctor,” he answered.

The mare’s eyes lit up, and Fletcher felt her heart flutter.

“Really!?”

Uh oh. Too much! Abort! Abort!

“Yeah, but uh… unfortunately, not the kind that saves lives… I’m the uh… kind of Doctor that gives checkups after you… don’t make it,” he said, trying to sound somber.

Surely, working with dead ponies is a turn off, right?

“Oh dear. That must be really tough. Emotionally, I mean,” she replied with a sad look on her face.

Sympathy?! Shoot!

“No no, it’s not that big a deal…” he said, trying to wave it off.

Then again, he was talking about dead ponies. He couldn’t just play it off, lest he come off as heartless.

“...well, it is always tough when foals are brought in…”

Seriously, Brain? What part of “abort” did you not catch?

The mare’s brow furrowed with pity. “Awww. Do you need a hug?” she cooed.

WHAT?!

“Come ‘ere,” she said as she pulled him into an embrace.

No! What are you doing?! You just met me, you crazy pony! STAHP! Whoever said that ponies are mean was off their rocker! If anything, they’re way too friendly!

If the flow of love was anything to go by, the mare was feeling more fond and tender towards him by the minute! He had to break the flow.

Think! How do I make her hate me?

He thought back to the bratty foals that had been so cruel to him and Sugar all those years ago.

Right! Insults! Be mean!

Fletcher cleared his throat.

“Ahem. Um… your mother has so much girth, she was mistaken to be an Ursa Major,” he said hesitantly.

Fuchsia blinked. “Pardon me?”

“Um… fatty?”

...

Slap!

----------------------**:**------------------------

Several months had passed since his exile, and after a strenuous period of trial and error, Fletcher managed to find his own set of best practices. The most effective way of collecting love without getting too deep, was to have short and sweet interactions with as little talking as possible. The best method of the bunch, and his go-to method of choice, was hoofing out flowers to mares. It got him the most love for the time frame, and he didn’t even have to say anything at all! Mind you, he did sometimes, just to juice up the gesture with some off-the-cuff compliment or some flirting.

Most cases, the mares would blush and get flustered, and he’d feel their hearts flutter for the handsome mystery stallion for a few hours or even the rest of the day, but it was clear to all of them that he was hoofing them out to everyone, so thankfully he didn’t have to worry about too many issues with lasting crushes. Or at least, he’d figured out a few ways of resolving them without getting slapped. So all in all, the method worked pretty well.

He wouldn’t stay in any one town or city for very long, given that the trick would get old pretty fast. So he had to migrate between towns a lot. He also had to find creative ways to make a few bits here and there. He didn’t need much, but he had to buy flowers. He also began to collect a few books in a nice set of saddlebags that he’d bought, as well. He really enjoyed the opportunity to study new books that were unavailable to him until now.

Fletcher was currently on the road between towns, through a heavily wooded area that he had to admit was rather pretty, but he was eager to get to his destination. He’d been on the road for several days now, and he was exhausted. He was pretty sure his body would be switching to autopilot any minute now.

Suddenly, a black and grey blur came darting out from around the corner, and ran between his legs.

Fletcher blinked. Was that a raccoon... wearing a hat?…

I really AM tired.

“GET BACK HERE YOU LITTLE-- WHOA! LOOK OUT, MATE!”

“Oof!” Fletcher grunted, as a random stallion rounded the corner at top speed and collided with him. They hit the ground, and the contents of Fletcher’s saddle bags sprawled all over the place.

Sheesh Fletcher, wake up and get it together, would you?! You should have felt him coming from a mile away!

The stallion stood up, rubbing his head. “Ohhh,” he groaned. “I’m terribly sorry about that, Mate. I was trying to retrieve my belongings from that cheeky little thief, and here I am launching you ‘n’ yours all over the place,” he said as he helped Fletcher up and set about helping him gather his things.

The first thing Fletcher noticed was the stallion’s voice. It was rich and deep, with such a charming smoothness that one couldn’t help but feel at ease in his presence.

Oh ho ho, wow! The mares must LOVE you, Fletcher thought as he added the charming voice to his repertoire for later use someday.

The stallion was tall and slender, with blue fur and two shades of brown in his mane and tail. He was wearing a black travellers coat accented with gold braiding, which would surely match that wide brimmed hat Fletcher had seen earlier. He noticed that the stallion had some odd dark blue lines and markings strewn about his fur. An interesting birth pattern.

“No no, I’m sorry for getting in the way,” Fletcher apologized, trying his best to sound friendly. “I probably should have clued in when I saw the fashionable rodent run by… um, speaking of which… shouldn’t you be running after him if you want your hat back?” he asked.

The stallion waved it off. “Nah, don’t fret it, I KNOW WHERE HE LIVES,” he called after the critter. Before Fletcher could say anything, he explained, “Repeat offender.”

Fletcher smiled and shook his head as he collected his books and drawings and things. The stallion brought over the pile of things he had gathered, and they made direct eye contact for the first time.

That’s when the stallion froze suddenly. Fletcher felt the stranger’s emotions tense up, like he was preparing to defend himself from an attack. But then just as quickly, he relaxed again. The pony was still very alert although, and stared into Fletcher’s eyes intently.

“Um… is there something wrong?” Fletcher asked uneasily. He knew his disguise hadn’t failed or anything; he could feel the breeze in his fur... So what was this guy’s deal?

“Mmmm-no...” the stranger murmured distractedly, “...I suppose there isn’t…”

He was still staring into Fletcher’s eyes! His own eyes darting about slightly, like he was peering into a shop window or something. Then Fletcher felt him getting excited, as a small smile grew on his muzzle. A small stream of odd, paternal love started to come from him.

Okay… getting really uncomfortable here...

“The Prodigal Son returns...” the pony muttered.

“What was that?” Fletcher asked with a funny look.

The pony shook his head. “Oh nothing, nothing, forgive me.”

“Uh-huh... Well, I’m going to go this way now…” Fletcher said as he turned and walked away.

Crazy stallion.

Fletcher would have to do something to fix this Kook’s little red wagon later, if the stream of love didn’t fade on its own. His current disguise must have reminded the guy of some other pony.

“Ah, yes. Of course. Have a good day, Sir,” the stallion called after him as he watched him go. “I never thought I’d see the day,” he muttered to himself excitedly. “After all these years, Sis, I’ve actually found a diamond in the rough,” he said.

The stallion turned in the direction the little thief had gone, and saw a book on the ground that both he and the other pony had missed.

“Ah, seems we’ll be meeting again sooner than later, my friend.”

----------------------------------------------------

Once Fletcher made it into town, he headed straight for the first flower stand he could find and bought a dozen roses. He started off his meal by immediately hoofing one of them to the flower mare.

“Oh my! Thank you,” she said through a rising blush and a smile.

Fletcher’s only reply was a wink and a smile before he took his leave.

This town was providing some good results as Fletcher wandered down the streets. He was in the process of hoofing another rose to some mare, when a pair of rambunctious colts and a filly ran between them on their way down the street.

“Last one out to the quarry is a rotten apple!”

“Yeah but the first one’s gotta eat it!”

A tiny smile appeared on Fletcher’s face as he watched them go. They reminded him of three particular little foalings.

“Are you alright?”

Fletcher turned back to the mare he gave the rose to.

“Hmm? Of course, why do you ask?”

She pointed towards his face. “You’re crying.”

Fletcher blinked. He touched his face and looked at his hoof. Sure enough, there had been tears running down his cheek.

“Oh. ...It’s nothing,” he answered, as he sniffed and wiped the tears away. “I just miss my... um… nevermind.”

She gave a sad look, and was about to say something, when somepony called out from a ways up the road.

“Hey there!”

The mare looked up to see a waving stallion approaching. Fletcher didn’t bother, he knew exactly who it was, and he groaned internally.

Great, Crazy’s back.

He could still feel that weird paternal love coming off him as the stallion trotted up to them with a friendly smile.

“I’m glad I ran into you. There was one last book you forgot,” the stallion said as Fletcher’s book was pulled out of the pony’s saddle bag by a silvery aura and passed over to him.

Fletcher looked down at the book with surprise. ‘The Art of the Golden Mean.’ He was in the middle of that one.

That was… nice of him, Fletcher thought. He felt bad now for thinking unkindly of him.

“Um, thank you,” he said as he took the book. “Mister…”

The stallion held out his hoof. “Dizzy Spell.”

Fletcher blinked. Dizzy Spell? Is he a drunkard or something?

He tried to steal a glance at the stallion’s cutie mark, but unfortunately it was covered up by his traveler’s coat, so Fletcher just held out his own hoof in kind, and shook.

“Urban Myth,” he lied. “I see you’ve tracked down your haaa”, the word caught on his tongue as Fletcher’s brain did a double take. He shook his head in disbelief. “Wait a second! How did you do that just now?!” he asked, holding up his book. “You don’t have a horn!”

Thinking back on it, Fletcher realized the stallion had used magic before as well, when he helped him pick up his things. Yet even now, as he stared directly at the pony’s forehead, there was no horn to be seen, and there was no way a horn could be concealed under that hat.

Dizzy chuckled. “I get that alot,” he replied. He lifted his hat off and pulled his mane back from his forehead, revealing a stub lying almost flush against his skull. “It was broken a while back. Can’t do as much as I used to, but I’ve managed to rehabilitate it enough to be able to pull off the basics,” he explained. Then he turned and addressed the mare next to them. “‘Hello there, Lolly, Darling.”

Fletcher noticed the mare’s emotional signature turn a little rosier as she responded with a smile. “Hi Dizzy.”

“Weather’s a little nippy this afternoon, wouldn’t you say? Are you chilly at all without any garments?” he asked.

Fletcher’s ears perked up. It was warm out today. He knew about Dizzy, but if she felt cold, he needed to know about it. To his relief, Lolly gave a confused look.

“What are you talking about, Dizzy? It’s like, 28 degrees out. I was just going to get a frozen yogurt,” she said, pointing down the road.

Dizzy chuckled again. “Just making sure you’re paying attention, Silly,” he said as he booped her nose.

Fletcher raised an eyebrow. He’s… not lying...

Lolly’s cheeks went bright red.

“You’re silly!” she cried as she pushed Dizzy’s hoof away with a flustered shove. “I spaced out one time and you won’t let me forget it!” she whined.

Dizzy’s brows furrowed. “Lolly Dear, you were so out of it, that you didn’t even notice when a waitress spilled an entire pot of boiling tea on you,” he said condescendingly.

Fletcher blinked. Wow.

Smoke was coming off Lolly’s cheeks at this point.

“It was still just one time!” she cried indignantly.

Fletcher couldn’t help but chuckle along as Dizzy laughed again.

That’s when Fletcher sensed something that made his heart stop.

Off in the direction the foals had run earlier, Fletcher felt their emotions immediately transition from joy and pleasure, to pure horror. What was more, there was another presence with them, but its emotions were a lot more primal and difficult to read. It was either angry or…

...hungry.

Without a word, Fletcher took off in their direction like a dart.

Dizzy and Lolly blinked. “Hey, where are you going?” Lolly called after him. “You dropped your saddlebags!” She turned to Dizzy. “What was that about?”

Dizzy’s lips skewed in thought. “Hmm. You think maybe he knows something we don’t?” he asked with a knowing smile.

-----------------------------------------

Fletcher thanked his lucky star that he disguised himself as a pegasus today, as he soared towards the foals’ location as fast as his wings could carry him. His path took him beyond the outskirts of town, but up ahead he could see a really wide pit. It had to be the ‘quarry’ they were talking about. As he approached close enough to see over the edge, Fletcher almost jumped out of his skin.

“WHOA! JEEZE!” he cried as he ducked down out of sight.

Down in the pit was a massive scorpion! It easily stood as tall as a house, and that’s not including the tail arching overhead! Just the barb of the stinger segment alone was as long as he was. Fletcher peeked over the boulders crowning the edge of the pit. He couldn’t see the foals with his eyes, but he could tell that they had ducked under a formation of stones, which the scorpion was currently beating upon with its tail. Even from this close, Fletcher could just barely hear their cries for help. He didn’t want to think about what would have happened if he couldn’t feel them.

With every strike, the formation rattled. It definitely wouldn’t last long at this rate. Heart pounding, he ducked back down again, pressing his back against the boulder as he tried to think.

Scorpions… scorpions…

Fletcher took a long breath, and time slowed to a halt as he tuned out his surroundings. In the darkness of his mind’s eye, he visualised the creature before him.

Target has eight legs, providing a wide, sturdy stance. It is armed with large pincers and a venomous tail; contact with either of which will compromise the mission at hoof... avoid at all costs.

Location of eyes and ears: unknown.

Other weak points: unknown.

Range of motion: unknown.

Strike behaviors: unknown.

Insufficient information to predict target’s movements. Engaging target is ill-advised.

“Curses!” Fletcher growled through his teeth. He hated not having information. He turned back over the boulder and peered down at his adversary. Ill-advised or not, he wasn’t leaving those foals. He’d have to take a more… improvised approach.

He kicked off his assault by throwing his voice to make it sound like it was coming from the other end of the quarry.

“HEY! UGLY!” he yelled.

Contrary to his hope, the scorpion didn’t stop to investigate. In fact, it didn’t even show signs of having heard him at all. It simply kept beating on the foals’ shelter.

Fletcher’s eyes narrowed in confusion. He took a deep breath and let out the screech of a dragon, coming from overhead.

Nothing.

Great. Either scorpions don’t have ears, or I just found a deaf one.

He wouldn’t be able lure it off with just his voice. Fletcher turned and grabbed a boulder about the size of a large pumpkin, and flapped his wings hard. It took awhile to take off, but he eventually managed to maneuver the load over the scorpion’s head. He let go of the rock and gave it an extra kick. He held his breath as the boulder connected… only to watch it bounce off the scorpion’s head with all the effect of a pingpong ball.

Fletcher’s ears fell.

...and it has armor thicker than a fortress wall.

While the small boulder didn’t so much as scratch the scorpion’s plated armor, it did succeed in getting its attention. The scorpion stopped what it was doing and looked up at him. It gave an experimental swing of the tail in his direction, but seeing that the offender was nowhere near its range, it simply ignored him and went about beating the formation again.

Fletcher was relieved, and somewhat insulted, but it gave him a relative idea of the tail’s range, and it also told him something important. It may not have ears, but it just ‘looked up’ at him, which confirmed to him that it had to have some sort of eyes… somewhere. He had to get closer.

He circled around a few times, as close as he dared, trying to find anything that resembled eyes, when he noticed something odd. Smack dab in the center of the top of its head was what looked like a sphere, but upon closer inspection, he noticed there was a subtle division between two little ovoids.

Are those seriously your eyes? How do you get any depth perception with them back to back like that?

Then again, he had to remember that it was deaf, so it probably wasn’t a stretch to believe it had poor eyesight as well.

Works for me, he thought with a wolfish grin. Deploy CT 46.

He gained some altitude before breaking into a dive bomb. Flipping at the last second, he extended his hind hoof.

Take this!

BAM!

“Ack!” Fletcher grunted.

Right at the last second, the scorpion had randomly shifted, just enough for Fletcher to miss the eyes… and hit that fortress wall of a shell.

Ssssss, blasted ponies and their stupid leg bones!

The scorpion froze and took notice of him, anger seeping into its emotional presence. Fletcher wasn’t about to give it time to react, though. He flipped again and dropped his other heel down on its eyes like an axe. The giant beast screeched in pain, and Fletcher high tailed it out of there before it started blindly swiping at the area above its head.

Target successfully blinded.

...or so he thought, because it suddenly faced directly towards him and took a swing. Fletcher managed to narrowly avoid the poison barb, but the bulky stinger segment still sent him crashing to the ground. He shakily got up on his hooves and looked up to see six, furious, glowing red eyes boring down at him.

Ah, there’s your depth perception.

Fletcher took wing again, just before another strike landed. He realised he hadn’t seen these eyes at the front of the scorpion’s head because they were set underneath a protruding ridge of shell.

Those will be tougher to get at.

He scanned over his enemy’s body for other options, and his gaze landed on its leg joints.

Its eight legs together give it a sturdy stance, but individually they look rather small in proportion to its body. Perhaps they’re weak.

He could try to immobilize it. It couldn’t do anything to him or the foals if it couldn’t move. All it would take was eight good shots to the joints.

Wait, not even. Just enough to impede its movement while we run away. Three on one side ought to do it.

Fletcher flew up and pushed over a pile of rocks, sending a rockslide toward the monster’s face. As it shielded itself with its massive pincers, Fletcher darted around behind it. He landed against the rock face of the quarry wall, coiling his hind legs to launch himself and attack the first leg, but the moment he connected with the wall, the scorpion’s tail swung down toward him.

“Woah!” he yelled as he dove out of the way.

BAM!

Fletcher looked up at its front to find that it was still covering its face.

Wait a sec, I thought you were deaf.

The scorpion shoved the rocks away from its face and began turning towards him. Fletcher adjusted himself to stay behind it. He threw his voice again, but like before, there was no response. He grabbed a rock and threw it off to the side. The moment the rock collided with something the scorpion struck towards it.

Vibrations.

The scorpion wasn’t fooled for long though, and it suddenly turned towards him with an angry glare.

Uh oh...

-------------------------------------------

Unbeknownst to Fletcher, there was a certain pony watching his efforts from the ridge above. Dizzy Spell had set two pairs of saddle bags next to a boulder, and like a lazy panther on a tree bough, was casually strewn along the quarry’s edge, resting his chin on folded fore-limbs and watching with curious scrutiny.

What are you doing, Mate?

It seemed quite odd for an individual to suddenly drop everything and bolt like they left the oven on, only to run out of town and have a sparing match with the first creature they came across. Lifting himself up to his hooves, the stallion closed his eyes and took a long breath through his nose. Then with a grunt, he slammed a hoof into the ground. The stallion remained completely still for several moments, until he finally looked up with an amused smile.

Well, well, well, look at you. Risking your life to save a bunch of pony foals. And with nopony to make a show of it for, no less. You really are a diamond in the rough, aren’t you Mr. Fletcher?

He sighed and laid his hat on his saddle bags.

Well, can’t leave everything up to the little do-gooder now, can I?

He took a deep breath and called out, “HEY MYTH, WHAT HAVE YOU GOTTEN YOURSELF INTO DOWN THERE?”

Fletcher’s ears perked up as he heard someone’s voice. Before now, he’d been too distracted to notice the extra presence lingering at the quarry’s ridge. After avoiding a swipe, he spared a glance up and saw the stallion from before, casually waving for his attention as if the scene playing out in front of him was in no way urgent or life threatening.

“YOU GOT THRILL ISSUES OR WHAT, MATE?” Dizzy called out.

Fletcher grit his teeth. “I’M NOT DOING THIS BECAUSE IT’S FUN, YOU CLODHOPPER!” he called back. He pointed to the rock formation. “THERE ARE THREE FOALS UNDER THOSE ROCKS, AND TINY HERE IS TRYING TO MAKE A MEAL OUT OF THEM!”

“OH DEAR! THAT’S CERTAINLY NOT GOOD,” Dizzy feigned surprise. “TELL YOU WHAT, MATE: YOU KEEP ITS ATTENTION OVER THAT WAY, AND I’LL SEE WHAT I CAN DO ABOUT GETTING THE FOALS TO SAFETY,” the stallion instructed.

Fletcher ducked under another swipe. “GREAT, FANTASTIC, JUST HURRY!” Fletcher yelled back. “AND TREAD LIGHTLY! THIS THING SENSES VIBRATIONS,” he warned, then flew off, trying to lead the scorpion away from the formation.

Thank goodness, Fletcher thought. Now he didn’t have to worry about trying to immobilize it. He just had to buy time. Flying away would be easy enough once the foals were safe.

He pushed rock piles over as he retreated, trying to slow the monster down while keeping its attention on him. Fletcher managed to steadily lure the creature into another section of the quarry, out of view of the foals’ shelter. Now he just had to pester it so it wouldn’t lose interest.

He flew in wide arcs around the scorpion, grabbing rocks and swooping in periodically to chuck them at its face. The scorpion would simply deflect them with its claws, then try to take a swipe at him with the stinger, but it rarely even came close.

Fletcher dove in for another dive bomb, but this time he wasn’t quick enough to get out of the way. Landing on a high stack of boulders, he looked back to see that he’d been grazed down the side, from his shoulder to his flank. Thankfully he hadn’t been stabbed, but he could already feel a tingling in his left side. He stepped forward, but to his astonishment, his left foreleg had already lost enough sensation to no longer be able to sustain his weight. Like trying to lean on a pool noodle toy, his effort led him tumbling off the rock pile… right into the path of the scorpion.

Fletcher looked up into its furious eyes. Seeing the monster’s intention, he used his good legs to shove himself out of the way of the oncoming strike. If such a small dose of venom had affected him so drastically, he definitely wouldn’t stand a chance if he took a real sting. He was already beginning to see colors that had no business being in a rock quarry; lime-green and purple to name a few.

The scorpion’s stinger was embedded in the ground, and as it tried to wrench it out, Fletcher tried to get to his hooves and take off, but his left wing had already gone numb and his other legs were getting weak. He started seeing double, and stumbled to the ground again. To his horror, Fletcher saw the scorpion free itself and prepare for another strike. He desperately tried to get his limbs to respond, but he wasn’t getting so much as a twitch as feedback. Fletcher looked back up at his executioner with terror. There was nothing he could do.

This is it.

He winced as he waited for the final blow.

Please don’t waste your second chance kids…

Boom!

…

Fletcher couldn’t feel anything... which told him he must have gone completely numb. He was afraid to look. He didn’t think he could handle the sight.

“You need some help, Mate?” a voice suddenly asked him.

Fletcher’s eyes shot open in surprise. They blearily made out the image of a stallion standing before him, holding back the massive stinger segment with a single hoof! And he was smiling at him! As if he weren’t doing anything more strenuous than holding back an angry bunny!

“D-Dizzy? How’d you……... h-how did you…….. do the…... t-thing?” Fletcher stuttered in shock.

Dizzy gave a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry about it, Mate. Just stay down and concentrate on breathing. I’ll take care of everything.” He turned back to face the scorpion with an amused smirk. “Sorry, Beastie, but I’m afraid I’m going to have to put you down. I can’t leave a dangerous little tick like you roaming around this close to ponies.”

The scorpion snarled and screeched at the impossibly small, yet unwavering obstacle.

“Oh, quit your whining you overgrown mousetrap! I’d relocate you if I thought for a moment you’d stay put! Besides, you’ve clearly had a good run. What’s it been? A century? More?” Dizzy asked with a chuckle.

Screeching, the scorpion pulled its tail back to strike again. That’s when something strange happened... More-so than a stallion being able to stop a giant scorpion tail with a single hoof.

Just as the tail reached its apex, Dizzy suddenly... appeared, suspended above the scorpion’s head.

Fletcher blinked. W-wasn’t he just…

Then Fletcher thought he saw a faded trail of multicolored duplicates of the stallion, leading from where he used to be, to where he was now. Dizzy wound up for a punch, and struck the beast smack-dab in the center of the head. He hit it so hard that it seemed to break the rules of the universe, because the scorpion’s head slammed into the ground so quickly, and with so much force, it was as if an invisible mountain was dropped on its head.

Fletcher even felt a shockwave breeze past him. He blinked and shook his head. The venom was definitely messing with him. The next thing he knew, Dizzy had approached him, pulled one of Fletcher’s forelegs over his neck, and was trying to lift him up.

“...ou still with me, Mate? Can you hear me?” the stallion asked, jostling him a little.

Fletcher’s response was a slurred moan, “Mmmmmmmmmm, I… think?...” he mumbled. His head was swimming.

“Can you walk at all?” Dizzy asked.

Fletcher was quiet for a second...

“Mmmmonkeyyyy…” he finally muttered.

“Well, that’s a ‘no’,” Dizzy muttered to himself as he urgently shuffled under the pegasus and shifted him onto his back. “It’s just as well,” he said as he broke into a full gallop, “I can get you there much quicker this way.”

Fletcher feebly tried to hold up his head. “Where… where you taking…” he trailed off as his head dropped back down on his savior’s shoulder.

“To Mossy Mare’s. Good friend. Better herbalist,” Dizzy answered as he scaled the quarry wall. “She’ll be able to help you much quicker than the Doctors at the hosp--”

Fletcher blacked out before he could catch the rest of the stallion’s words.

---------------------------------------------------

Fletcher groaned as he slowly regained consciousness. He opened his eyes to find… a raccoon wearing a hat?

He shook his head and rubbed his eyes, but when he looked up again the rodent was gone.

Ooooookay?

As Fletcher looked around, he noted that he was lying in the center of what appeared to be a log cabin, on a comfortably thick shag rug with a blanket over his back. He noticed his saddlebags sitting in the corner, but what really caught his attention, however, was the unsettling fact that he was receiving a new stream of love from a presence he didn’t recognise, somewhere beyond one of the walls.

He suddenly heard chittering, from what he could only presume was the raccoon.

“Oh, he’s up? Thanks, Milo,” came a sweet voice from behind a wall.

Fletcher looked up as a mare with green eyes, brown fur, and a green mane ‘n’ tail walked in, with the raccoon perched on her withers. The first thing Fletcher noticed was the gentle expression in her eyes that accompanied her pleasant smile.

Wow. He blinked. You must be the one who cured me. Don’t worry, I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe from me.

“Good morning. How are you feeling?” she asked.

“Um… *ahem*, I’m fine,” he said bluntly, trying to sound abrasive. It was completely lost on the mare however, because she simply gave a bigger smile.

“That’s great! Your recovery was actually pretty astounding. Bouncing back from that degree of poisoning in just four days is rather unheard of,” she mused.

“Four days!?” Fletcher yelped. He bolted out from under the blanket and grabbed her head, frantically brushing her mane aside and holding her ears down to look behind them.

Amazingly, there was no trace of any blue crystals forming. Ignoring her surprised, and rather rosey expression, he moved on to feel around her neck and shoulders.

“Aren’t you cold?” he asked, puzzled.

The mare was bewildered by the odd behavior, but she smiled regardless.

“Mmm nope. I’m quite comfortable really,” she answered. “Wait, are you cold?” she asked with concern.

Fletcher shook his head in disbelief. This didn’t make any sense.

“N-... no… I’m okay…” Fletcher muttered distractedly.

She was about to say something more when suddenly, they heard the front door open.

“Mossy, I’m back!” came a call from the hallway.

Fletcher froze. The memories of the fight with the scorpion were fresh in his mind. That stallion isn’t normal, he thought as he subconsciously backed away from the presence. Hallucinogens or not, there’s no way a stallion could take down something that big on his own like that.

“Hi Dizzy!” the mare chirped. “Guess who’s up?”

The raccoon made a subtle get-a-way as Dizzy came into the cabin proper. The stallion’s eyes lit up when he saw their patient in question.

“Ah! He wakes!” he said excitedly. “How are you feeling, Mr. Myth?”

Fletcher’s throat dried up as he stared back in silence. A nod was the only response he was able to manage.

“I see you’ve met Mossy Mare already,” Dizzy beamed and gestured toward said mare. “It’s thanks to her mastery of herbalism, and T.L.C. over the last few days that you’re still alive.”

“It’s Evergreen, actually,” she corrected. “Dizzy likes his nicknames.” She shot the stallion a wry smile before brushing a lock of hair behind her ear and extended a hoof to Fletcher. “It’s nice to finally meet you formally, Mr. Urban Myth,” she said with a smile.

“Nice to meet you... Ms. Evergreen,” Fletcher said quietly. “Thank you for all your help, and while I am indeed indebted to you…” Fletcher paused and took a deep breath.

Evergreen shared a puzzled look with Dizzy, before looking back to him.

“You smell like pine and your mother dresses you funny!” Fletcher blurted out.

Evergreen blinked, more so out of surprise than offence. “Um... what?” she asked in confusion.

“Pffffft, Ah hahahahahahaha...” Dizzy laughed.

Fletcher and Evergreen both turned to him in confusion.

“Hahaha... sorry... *ahem* He’s trying to protect you, Mossy,” Dizzy explained. Then he made direct eye contact with their guest. “It’s alright, Fletcher. You won’t hurt her,” he said with a knowing smile.

Fletcher’s heart stopped.

He...he knows... How does he know?

Fletcher’s brain started going into emergency lockdown.

Red alert! Red alert! False identity compromised!

Single known entryway is blocked by primary threat; do not attempt.

Room has two visible windows.

Window one is blocked by primary threat; do not attempt.

Window two is blocked by minimal thre--

Fletcher’s train of thought halted as he regarded Evergreen.

Subject is still victim to love stream…

Do not abandon...

Evergreen gave Dizzy a confused look.

“He’s trying to protect me... with silly insults?” She giggled. “Protect me from what?”

“From the same thing that happened to a certain Sugar, I’d imagine,” the stallion answered.

Fletcher’s ear twitched. A small yelp escaped from Evergreen as he suddenly grabbed her in a hostage hold, his hooves poised to snap her neck.

“D-don’t move!” he yelled at the stallion, his attempt at being intimidating foiled by his quivering. Fletcher couldn’t be sure how much of what he saw that day was real and how much was just a trick of the poison, but the one thing he knew for sure was that the pony in front of him was capable of impossible things, including unnatural speed. There’s no way a normal stallion could have taken that scorpion out on his own. “H-how? How do you know her name? How do you know my name?! There shouldn’t be a single pony alive or dead that knows my name!” he yelled hysterically, backing closer and closer to the window behind him.

Dizzy’s reaction was not one that Fletcher was expecting. There wasn’t an ounce of panic, or even concern, on his face or in his emotional signature. He didn’t even look angry. He simply stepped forward with a calming gesture.

“It’s alright, Fletcher. You have nothing to worry about. Everything is going to be okay,” the stallion said with a soothing tone.

Evergreen nonchalantly blew a lock of her mane out of her face. “I thought you said his name was Urban Myth?” she questioned.

Why are you two so calm?! Who are you people?

Dizzy shook his head. “No, that was the alias he was using. Based on his reaction, I’d say I guessed his real name correctly, though,” he said with a chuckle.

“Guessed?!” Fletcher yelled indignantly.

“Well, it was either Fletcher, Woolly, or Mizer, given that those were the most prominent male names,” the stallion answered.

Fletcher was flat out trembling now, shaking his head in disbelief. “W-who are you? H-how do you know those names?” he all but whimpered. Fletcher’s attention was suddenly pulled to Evergreen gently petting his foreleg, even as it constrained her neck. He noticed her emotional signature had no fear in it at all, but rather, it was full of sympathy, and brimming with compassion.

“Did he ever look you in the eyes?” she asked.

Fletcher shot her a confused glance. “What?”

Evergreen gestured toward Dizzy with a nod. “When you first met him, did you ever look him directly in the eye?” she clarified.

Fletcher thought back to when he first came across the stallion, and that weird moment when the guy stared into his skull like a foal at a toy shop window.

“You… you read my memories?” he whimpered, backing closer to the window.

“No, no, that’s not quite it,” the stallion answered calmly. “I don’t tell many folks this, but my real name is Discerning Spell. I don’t have the ability to read minds,” he clarified. Then he added with a chuckle, “Else I would have known which of those names was yours right off the bat. What I can do, is discern what is in somepony’s heart: desires, fears, character, basically who they are on the inside, including their true identity in some cases,” he added with a nod in Fletcher’s direction, “all by looking through their eyes,” he explained.

Fletcher blinked. Well that’s a new one… if it’s true.

“That doesn’t explain how you got those names,” he pointed out angrily.

“You’re right,” the stallion agreed before continuing. “Everypony has a few events or individuals that were so influential in their lives, the names and images get repeated over and over again in their minds. This constant repetition causes the names and images to be carved into their soul, at which point, they become as visible to me as the rest of their character.”

Fletcher narrowed his eyes on him as he monitored the stallion’s emotional presence. …He’s not lying…

“‘Fletcher’, ‘Mizer’, and ‘Woolly’ were the most prominent male names that had positive affiliations with them. I saw a few other names, like ‘Jazz’, but the emotions affiliated with them appeared to have a more paternal nature, so I doubted any of their names belonged to you,” Dizzy explained. “I’m sure you recognise those names given that they’re so close to you?”

Fletcher didn’t answer. He just closed his eyes and took a long, deep breath. Finally, he looked back up at him.

“How many soldiers have you got on the way?” he asked.

Dizzy blinked. Then his expression softened into an understanding look. He shook his head and extended a hoof to Fletcher as he stepped forward. “There are no soldiers, Fletcher. I’m not--”

“Stay back!” Fletcher cut him off. “Don’t you dare come any closer! D-don’t even move!” he screamed. Faust only knew how fast that stallion could move if he gave him the chance. “Now you listen here! All I want to do is disappear. I don’t want to hurt anypony. So I’m going to leave now and I’m taking her with me for insurance. You follow us; I kill her. You stay away; I let her go... once I’ve made sure that the stream is severed. Then you’ll never hear from me again. Understand?”

Dizzy sighed as he lowered his head and closed his eyes. A soft smile formed on his lips.

Such a good colt you are.

“None of that is necessary, Fletcher. Your ‘stream’ won’t hurt her. Look behind her ears. She’s been caring for you for the last four days, but you won’t find anything developing back there.”

Fletcher blinked. He glanced at Evergreen, before looking back at the stallion. “How do you know about all that?” he asked.

Dizzy gave a warm smile. “I’m a scholar, and at one time I made it a point to learn all I could about your species so I would know how to help afflicted ponies if I needed to.”

Fletcher winced at the word ‘afflicted’, but he pressed on. “How did you stop the side effects?”

“When I brought you here, I let Mossy know from the start that you were a changeling,” Dizzy continued.

Fletcher’s eyes widened as he stared at her in surprise. “And that didn’t bother you?!” he asked in bewilderment.

Evergreen giggled. “Don’t worry, Fletcher,” she assured him as she continued to stroke his foreleg. “I may not have ever seen a changeling before, but I know you’re not dangerous,” she said. “Ooooh, speaking of which...” she added as she tapped her hooves together excitedly, “...I’ve been dying to see what you really look like ever since he told me!”

Fletcher raised an eyebrow at her. “Changelings regularly abduct and impersonate ponies to harvest emotions from their loved ones. What makes you think I’m not dangerous?” he asked. He wasn’t, but how could she know that?

Evergreen simply smiled. “I never said changelings aren’t dangerous. I only said I know you aren’t. Dizzy wouldn’t have brought you to my home if you were,” she said confidently.

Fletcher looked up at the stallion. This stranger seemed to know him better than his own Queen ever did, even enough to vouch for him wholeheartedly. That paternal love stream made slightly more sense now.

Moving on its own accord, Fletcher’s body slowly released Evergreen, and brought them both back down to their hooves. He stared at Dizzy in silence. After a second, he shook his head. “Wait, what does telling her about me have to do with preventing the side effects?” he asked.

Dizzy brushed his mane aside and pulled his ear down for Fletcher to see. There were no crystals there either. “Most ponies don’t know it, but emotions, such as love, are much more tangible than they realise. Of course, I probably don’t need to convince you of that,” Dizzy began.

Fletcher gave a brief nod. Well yes, that isn’t really news to us. Although hearing it from a non-empath was a little surprising.

“Shared emotions, whether between soul-mates, family, friends, what have you, are actually very low lying magics, invisible to all but few. Yet, even we can detect small subtleties. The ‘atmosphere’ in a room for example, is highly affected by the emotions of those within it. Music is very powerful because of its ability to affect low lying magic and change one’s emotions from one state to another. But I digress.

“Your question has to do with the fact that, as a magic, emotions are very sensitive to the will which they were derived from. Which means, that when the emotion or magic is taken in by somepony it wasn’t meant for... well, let’s just say it doesn’t like that too much. The result is a bit of an imbalance, and it attempts to compensate for that imbalance by pulling energy. Unfortunately, the only source it can pull from is the individual it was derived from, which in turn makes the imbalance even worse, compounding the problem. The energy pulled starts off in the form of heat, but eventually, as the imbalance grows, it begins to pull life energy as well. Since the affliction is magic based rather than biological, a build up of crystals usually begins to form on the body,” the stallion explained.

Fletcher tilted his head side to side as he mulled the information over. It was all sound, and certainly better explained than anything he’d heard before. “Alright, but how did telling her prevent that ‘imbalance’ from happening?” he asked.

“Well, despite there being a pegasus on her rug, she knew you were a changeling, which meant that any emotion she felt towards you, was meant for you,” Dizzy answered as he drew a circle in the air and pointed at him.

Fletcher’s heart skipped a beat as realisation hit him. His plot sank to the floor.

“Y-...you mean to say… I… I could have saved her?...” he whispered.

Dizzy moved to reach for his shoulder. “Fletcher--”

Fletcher has holding his temples and shaking his head frantically.

“I could have saved her… I… I wanted to show her, WHY DIDN’T I SHOW HER?!”

“FLETCHER!” Dizzy yelled over his hysterics.

Fletcher suddenly realised that the stallion had walked over and grabbed his forehooves, keeping his head still, his eyes now inches away from his own.

“Don’t do this to yourself, my friend,” he consoled him. “There’s no way you could have known.”

“B-but I… oh Sugar... forgive me,” he breathed, tears streaming from his good eye.

Dizzy pulled him into an embrace as the poor changeling trembled in anguish. Evergreen circled around and hugged Fletcher from behind.

“It’s alright, Fletcher. It wasn’t your fault,” the stallion whispered. “You never would have hurt her if you could help it. Nocteous and Galaxia themselves would hold you blameless. No child should ever have to go through what you did.”

For a long time, Fletcher wept, and his new caretakers simply held him. For the first time since meeting them, he accepted their streams of love without apprehension.

After a while, he looked up with a sniff and wiped his eyes. “Who are Nocteous and Galaxia?” he asked.

Dizzy smiled. “Well, I’m sure you’ve heard of Galaxia already…”

At Fletcher’s puzzled look, he clarified, “Faust.”

Fletcher blinked.

“‘Galaxia’, ‘Faust’, ‘Epona’, ‘Alpha’, ‘Creator’... all titles for the same Goddess,” Dizzy explained.

Fletcher blinked again. “You mean… she’s real?” he asked incredulously.

Dizzy chuckled. “Of course, Mate.”

“So she was the one who saved me,” Fletcher muttered.

Dizzy and Evergreen tilted their heads.

“What do you mean?” Dizzy asked.

Fletcher explained, “After my banishment, I was trudging through the badlands on the verge of death. I eventually ran out of energy and lost consciousness. By all accounts, I should have died right then and there, but I woke up to the voice of some mare who called me ‘love bug’ and said things like: it wasn’t my time yet…”

Dizzy’s eyes widened. Love bug?!

“...and suddenly I had enough #i%m$e& to move again, but there wasn’t a soul around for miles! That must have been Her, right?” Fletcher asked expectantly.

Dizzy shook his head and shrugged. “Who can say?” he answered. “Please excuse me for just a moment, won’t you? Just going to get some firewood, I’ll be back,” he said as he quietly headed for the door.

“Um… sure?” Fletcher answered, casting a puzzled glance towards Evergreen.

The mare in question however, was too busy rubbing her ears.

“Sorry, you had enough what now?”

--------------------------------------------

Dizzy stepped out onto the deck and closed the door behind him. He took in a deep breath of the cool Spring air, and looked up at the sky.

I see. So you discovered him well before I did, huh Sis? Of course. I’m sure you’ve been following this particular ‘love bug’ for a while now, haven’t you. He chuckled...then fell silent.

...It’s such a relief to finally know for certain that you’ve been exalted, Sister... but I can’t help feeling it’s a bit unfair to hear you’ve spoken to another, yet you still withhold your voice from me, even after all these years.

He sniffed and wiped his eye.

Sorry, he chuckled. I know that’s selfish.

…

I miss you so much, Sis.

…

He wiped his eyes again and put a smile back on his face. Give Galaxia and Nocteous a hug for me won’t you?

--------------------------------------------

Fletcher returned Evergreen’s puzzled look, until he realised what she was referring to.

“Right. Sorry. I forgot there isn’t really a word for that in Equish. Give me a second.” He rubbed the back of his head as he tried to think of an appropriate translation. Changelings were the only ones that took sustenance from emotion, so theirs was the only language that had a word with which to refer to it.

“Hmm, I suppose the most appropriate translation would be love energy, since it is the ‘energy’ we need for our bodies and magic to function, and because we get it from various forms of ‘love’,” he explained.

Understanding washed over the mare’s expression. “How do you pronounce it in your language again?” she asked.

Fletcher let out a guttural, yet melodic noise.

Evergreen blinked, an ear twitching. “Um, one more time?”

“#i%m$e&.”

Evergreen’s ears flopped. It sounded like he was speaking in an echoey canyon, underwater, and while running toward and away from her, all at the same time.

“Um, once more? Maybe a little slower?” she asked timidly.

Fletcher chuckled, and patiently repeated himself. “#iiiimr^ssss.”

Evergreen’s face scrunched as she strained to catch it. She finally attempted a guess. “Limress?”

Fletcher smiled. “I think that’s as close as you’re going to get without a changeling’s vocal system.”

Evergreen smiled. Then she tapped her fore-hooves together with a sheepish look. “So, um… speaking of which...”

Fletcher’s ears fell. “You want to see what I look like,” he said flatly.

She nodded fast with a big grin. “I’ve been really excited ever since Dizzy told me,” she admitted. “I’m an expert with all things nature, but I’ve never seen or heard of a changeling before.”

Fletcher raised an eyebrow. I’m not a fig tree, he thought indignantly, but he let it go. He was too anxious about the other matter. Fletcher rubbed his foreleg uneasily. He had a feeling she was going to be sorely disappointed, if not utterly disgusted, when she finally saw the creature behind the mask.

“I’m… reeeeally different,” he said, rubbing the back of his head and looking away. “Are you sure you want to see this?”

She nodded vigorously again. “I won’t laugh or anything, I promise,” she said.

Fletcher snorted. Laughter is the last thing I’m worried about. He sighed. “Alright, just… give me a moment. It’s been drilled into every fiber of my being to not do what I’m about to, so just… bare with me,” he said.

Evergreen nodded understandingly. “Take your time.”

Fletcher took in a deep breath, and let it out slowly. The voice in his head repeated the rule to him.

Do not reveal yourself.

Thanks brain, I know. He told it, as he began to focus on the process of releasing his disguise.

Do not rev--

Shut up! he yelled internally, but the words just kept repeating themselves over and over. He sighed. He would really have to work for it if he was going to force himself. His eyes squeezed shut, and after a few short breaths to prime himself, he rammed into his psychological barrier with a growl, and dispelled his disguise in a veil of flames.

…

He swiveled his ears forward, listening, but he couldn’t hear any sort of reaction from Evergreen. He chanced a peek.

“Oh.”

Fletcher winced.

“No wait, open your eyes again,” she said.

He looked up at her with surprise, and saw her gazing at him with awe.

“You have really pretty eyes, Fletcher,” she finally said. She took a step to approach him, but then stopped herself. “Um… may I?” she asked.

He stared at her in bewilderment, but found himself nodding all the same. His eyes followed her as she walked around him, picking up his forelegs to look at his holes, stroking his gossamer wings, and tapping different areas of his chitin to feel the hardness and softness of different areas. Circling around to the front again, she paused. Seeing her ears fall, Fletcher got nervous again.

“What is it?” he asked worriedly.

She drew circles on the floor. “Do you guys, um… suck blood as well?”

Fletcher blinked. “What? No. Why would you think that?” Fletcher asked.

Evergreen looked relieved, but still confused. “You have fangs like a vampire bat,” she pointed out.

Fletcher regarded his fangs. “Oh. No, these are for storing extra Limress,” he answered. He wasn’t about to tell her that they were also meant for subduing targets with neurotoxin in preparation for stasis or brainwashing spells. “Limress is precious, so if we have any we don’t need, we try to store it away as best we can. The problem with Limress, however, is that it loses about half its potency if it’s exposed to carbon dioxide. So when converting it to a liquid state, it needs to be transferred directly into water in an air free environment. We do this by filling chrysali with water, evacuating all the bubbles, and then injecting limress with our fangs,” he explained. “Since we can take it back out again the same way, we can store it for decades without losing any potency.”

“Wow,” Evergreen replied. She smiled as she regarded his fangs closer, the changeling voluntarily tilting his head up for her. She saw the tube structures running behind the sharp points of the fangs. Then she giggled. “Have you ever gotten them caught on anything?”

Fletcher laughed. “No, but I have seen it happen. It’s hilarious.”

Evergreen shared a laugh with him as she pictured the scene. “It’s a shame you can’t tuck them in like a snake.”

“We can. I just find it uncomfortable,” the changeling replied.

Evergreen give a sheepish smile. “Too uncomfortable to show me?” she pleaded.

Fletcher sighed with a deadpan. “No, of course not.”

The mare’s smile grew wide as she watched him fold in his fangs. He even did it one at a time like a snake often did when it was stretching. She clapped her hooves with giddiness. “Now say something! Do you sound funny?”

Fletcher chuckled. He opened his mouth. “I sound exactly how I want to sound,” he said, but his lips didn’t move at all.

Evergreen blinked.

Then he did it again, but with her voice, “I can sound cutey-patooty…” then he switched to a deep male voice, “...or smooth and sensual.”

“I can even sound like I’m right behind you!” his voice barked behind her, causing her to jump with a squeak.

Fletcher had a good chuckle at her expense.

She looked behind herself, then back to him. “Woooooooow,” she breathed out like an awestruck little foal. “That’s so cool,” she gushed with her smile back in full force.

Fletcher shrugged. “Well, we have to be able to imitate any voice. The ventriloquism thing is just a bonus.”

Evergreen tapped her chin in thought. “So when you transform into ponies, what do you do when the pony has something they’re always wearing like a hat or a necklace, or custom saddle bags?”

Fletcher rubbed his foreleg awkwardly. She was oddly comfortable with this stuff… he just hoped they didn’t get into a topic that would ruin that. “Well, the easiest and cheapest way would be to just borrow the object when we place the target-- ahem, I mean pony into stasis, but if we absolutely had the need, we could do this…” he said as he summoned over a blanket. He held up a hoof to catch it, and let it drop. Then he bathed himself in flames, and turned into Dizzy, holding up a perfect copy of his cloak on his hoof.

“Woooooow,” Evergreen marveled.

“This costs a lot of limress, though,” he continued, “even more so depending on how different the two objects are. We also run the risk of this happening,” he said as he dropped the cloak to the floor. Before it even arrived, the fake cloak returned to its original form.

“It changes back if you’re not touching it?” the mare inquired.

Fletcher nodded as he dispelled his disguise as well.

“Wait, did you just use up a bunch of limress just to show me that?!” she balked.

Fletcher’s ears fell. “Why are you angry with me?”

“Because it was unnecessary! You could have just told me instead of showing me. I thought Dizzy said you didn’t have much energy to spare?!” she fretted.

Fletcher’s expression had turned apologetic. “It was all limress you gave me. I figured the least I could do was use it to answer your questions and make you happy,” he muttered.

Evergreen’s shoulders sank and her heart melted. “Ohhh, Fletcher…” she moaned with pity. She strode over to him and wrapped her forelegs around his neck. She held him in her embrace for a few seconds, before she suddenly smacked him upside the back of the head. “Silly bug,” she chided. Then she squeezed him tighter and Fletcher felt her flood him with emotion. He smiled and hugged her back, happy to be able to do so with his own hooves.

----------------------------------------

Dizzy returned a while later with a bundle of chopped wood on his back. Evergreen and Fletcher were chatting idly when he stepped into the cabin proper. His eyes widened when they fell upon the changeling in his true form.

“Whoa!”

The pair looked up at him.

“Heh heh, sorry. I was just surprised,” he said, waving off their concern. “You’re a lot bigger than any of the changelings I’ve come across. Which breed are you? Or are you just a special case?” he added with a sly smile.

Most changelings, males included, were roughly the size of a pony mare. Fletcher however, was much larger. He was a good deal taller than Evergreen, and had he been standing, he would have stood level with Dizzy.

Fletcher shuffled uncomfortably. “No. My uh... former hivemates and I are Emeperas,” he muttered, before looking away.

Dizzy’s expression turned sympathetic. He set the wood by the fireplace and strode over to the changeling, offering a hoof on the shoulder and an understanding smile. Fletcher responded with a grateful nod.

“Now that you’re awake, I know some foals and their families that want to give you their thanks,” Dizzy told him.

Fletcher’s eyes widened. “But… I barely did anything,” he muttered, looking away in shame. “I couldn’t help them. If it hadn’t been for you, all I would have done was get myself killed before it moved on to them.”

Dizzy shook his head. “Don’t be modest, Mate. It was a team effort. Not many folks can say they have the bravery to go hoof to hoof with a beastie like that. More importantly, had we not had a changeling in town that day...” he said, poking Fletcher in the chestplate, “...nopony would have known the foals were in trouble at all until well after it was too late.”

Dizzy turned to the door and gestured for Fletcher to follow. “You won’t be able to convince them that what you did was nothing,” he said before calling back to Evergreen, “See you in a little while, Mossy.”

Dizzy opened the door and made to step outside, but he stopped. He held up a hoof like he was holding an imaginary object, and called back into the cabin, “WHEN I COUNT TO FIVE, THERE HAD BETTER BE A HAT ON THIS HOOF. OTHERWISE, I KNOW OF A CERTAIN RODENT THAT’S GOING TO BE HAIRLESS IN THE MORNING!”

-----------------------------------------

Fletcher followed Dizzy through town in his Urban Myth disguise. Eventually they strode up to the door of a small house. He watched uneasily as Dizzy gave it three crisp knocks. The door was answered by a foal that Fletcher recognised as the little filly from that day.

“Guess who’s finally awake,” Dizzy told her with a wink.

Apparently that was all he needed to say, because the filly gasped and ran back into the house. Fletcher could hear her calling her mother and relaying the news. The next thing he heard was a trampling of hooves. His eyes widened in horror as a crazed mare bolted down the hall towards him. She snatched him up and spun him around in an iron tight hug.

“Oh thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou sooooo much for saving my Silver Bell! You’re my hero!” she squealed.

Fletcher’s heart skipped a beat. He… he’d seen this before…

Miss Cream.

Tears beaded in the corners of his eyes as Fletcher saw the image of that poor mare in his mind’s eye. She had called him a hero for saving her child too... only for him to turn around and take her foal away from her forever.

The little filly finally caught up with her mother's impromptu sprint, and latched on to Fletcher's leg.

"Thanks so much for saving us, Mister!" she cried, squeezing as tight as she could. “I was beginning to think nopony would ever hear us calling for help, but then you came! And you led the monster away so we could escape!” She nuzzled his leg with her cheek. Then she gasped. "I gotta go get the others!" she told her mother, before running over to the house across the street.

Dizzy took off his hat and gestured to Fletcher. "Ms. Willow, this is Urban Myth, the stallion I told you about. Myth, this is Willow, Silver Bell's mother."

"Ch- charmed," Fletcher gasped in the throes of the mare's iron grip.

"Ohhhh, Hatchet's going to wish he was home for this," the mare said, squeezing Fletcher tighter and swaying from side to side.

Dizzy chuckled and tapped Willow's shoulder. "Um, Ms. Willow, I believe he's about to faint."

Willow gasped and glanced at Fletcher, whose eyes were starting to roll back in his head. She squeaked and let him go, repeating her apologies over and over as he gasped the life back into his lungs.

“It-- cough*… It’s okay. You’re…you’re welcome,” Fletcher wheezed.

Silver Bell came running back with the two colts and their mothers in tow. The mares had the same crazed look in their eyes that Willow had.

No! Please! Not again!

-----------------------------------------

“I have a few errands to run in town,” Dizzy told Fletcher when they finally managed the say their goodbyes to the thankful families. “You’re welcome to come with me if you wish, or we can reconvene back at Mossy’s.”

Fletcher gave a simple nod and stayed put, watching Dizzy head off towards town. Without much thought, Fletcher ended up heading towards the quarry. He strolled along the quarry’s edge, looking down into the pit, the various marks in the dirt and piles of rubble documenting the events of that day. When he reached the point where he last saw the scorpion, all he found was the large indent where it hit the ground. There were char marks surrounding the spot and a wide trail in the dirt leading off somewhere.

Dizzy must have come back and burned it in order to drag it away piece by piece.

Fletcher followed the trail till he finally found the corpse. The internals had in fact been burnt out and the remains of the carapace were piled up in a corner of the quarry. Fletcher’s eyes narrowed as he gazed upon them.

Giant Scorpion:

Subject has eight legs, providing a wide, sturdy stance. Its shell is virtually impervious to physical assault. It is armed with large pincers and a HIGHLY venomous tail. Toxins cause nervous system shutdown and hallucinations. Avoid at all costs.

Location of eyes: Two eyes are set on the top of the head in the center. Six more are located at the front of the head, three on either side.

Location of ears: Not applicable. Subject bears no response to auditory stimuli.

Caution: Subject can detect its surroundings through vibrations.

Logging range of motion and attack behaviors…

Fletcher closed his eyes as visions of the giant scorpion’s movements raced across his mind and were recorded in his mental archive. As he finished, he looked the remains up and down once again and scowled.

“I suppose I should thank you, Hellion,” he spat. “Never again will I be caught off guard by the likes of your kind.”

The husk simply stared back at him with an empty gaze. Fletcher sighed and hung his head. What would he have done if it weren’t for that stallion?

-----------------------------------------

Fletcher knocked on Evergreen’s door before hesitantly pushing it open.

“Um… I’m back,” he called into the cabin.

“Hi, Fletcher. Come on in,” he heard his host chirp from the living room.

Fletcher did his best to wipe his hooves off on the mat before wandering into the cabin proper. He found both Evergreen and Dizzy in the living room, amidst a cacophony of various plants and alchemy equipment. Dizzy was lying on the couch, above and away from the chaos of whatever Evergreen was working on as she lay on the floor with an open book and everything else spread out around her. Dizzy looked up from watching her as Fletcher came into the room.

“Welcome back, Mate,” he greeted.

Fletcher gave a small nod before asking, “What’s all this? What are you up to?”

Evergreen licked a hoof and turned a page. “I’m making a compound for Dizzy,” the mare replied as she worked.

Dizzy elaborated, “Aside from visiting and enjoying her company, this is the primary reason I’ve been staying with Mossy. We’ve been waiting for her herbs to ripen so she can make a new supply of medicine for me. It’s to help me sleep.”

“Do you have sleep apnea?” Fletcher asked.

“Mmm, no,” Dizzy muttered. “It is for preventing bad dreams.”

Evergreen hid her face from Dizzy as she mouthed the words ‘post traumatic stress disorder’.

Fletcher’s eyes widened. “Ah… well... no one likes bad dreams,” he offered awkwardly. He looked for a way to change the subject. “So... you don’t live around here then, Dizzy?”

Evergreen giggled as she busied herself with her work again. “He doesn’t live anywhere,” she teased.

At Fletcher’s puzzled look, Dizzy explained. “I’m nomadic. I travel constantly from place to place searching for new things to study, skills to learn, and friends to make. Mossy here, on the other hoof, prefers to live the lifestyle of a hermit and mostly keeps to herself.”

“What’s wrong with that? I just prefer the solitude of nature over being around other ponies, that’s all,” Evergreen said.

“Oh.” Fletcher’s ears fell and he rubbed his leg. “Please forgive me for imposing, then. I guess I should be heading off.”

Evergreen’s own ears perked up. “Nonono, you’re not imposing! Don’t misunderstand!” she squeaked. “Dizzy!” she hissed, grabbing a golfball sized seed and beaning him in the head with it. Unphased by the projectile, the stallion simply gave a playful smile as he rubbed out the fur crater left at the point of impact.

Evergreen turned back to Fletcher. “I enjoy my privacy, Fletcher, but that doesn’t mean I don’t like having the occasional guest every now and then. I like company in small doses. You just won’t see me hosting any big parties, that’s all. And as far as hosting guests go, you’re pretty easy. I don’t even have to prepare meals for you,” she added with a smile. “You’re welcome to stay as long as you like, Fletcher. I really mean it.”

Fletcher smiled. The kindness of ponies was proven to him yet again, and these ones even knew he was a changeling. The hive had it wrong about them.

“Thank you. That’s very kind of you, Miss Evergreen,” he said softly.

“Call me Evergreen… or Mossy if you like,” she said with a wink. “Besides, you recovered from that poison so fast it’s silly! I wouldn’t let you leave without a few more days’ monitoring anyway.”

Evergreen brought a hoof to her lips and whistled. “Milo,” she called. The raccoon that seemed to be her pet scurried into the room. “Go show Fletcher to the second guestroom, please,” she instructed. “And make sure the bed is made up with the thicker comforter, the one with the stars on it.”

Fletcher followed the little rodent as it scampered off down the hall and showed him to his room. He watched with amusement as it darted about inside, setting up accommodations. He idly wondered: if two ponies had no problem with him, could Equestria as a whole accept changelings in general?

-----------------------------------------

Late that night, Dizzy was enjoying the fireplace in Evergreen’s living room with a blanket draped over his back. He rested his chin on crossed forelegs as he watched the flames crackle and dance across the charing logs.

Fletcher walked in quietly, his ears laying flat against his head.

Dizzy glanced up at him. “Couldn’t sleep?” he asked as he raised his head.

“No,” Fletcher muttered softly.

The pony’s brows furrowed sympathetically, and a warm smile graced his lips. “Something on your mind?” he asked.

Fletcher struggled to make eye contact, so his eyes simply settled on the rug. He was quiet for a moment, until finally, he let out a light sigh.

“It was kind of you and all those families to consider me a hero for what happened that day. I know you think I’m being too modest, but I know that if I didn’t have your help I would have failed those kids. I would have failed their families... because despite all my years of combat training, I’m just not strong enough…”

Dizzy didn’t say anything. His countenance was neutral, but on the inside, he was smiling. It was looking like he wouldn’t have to be the one to ask.

“...But then there’s you. You stopped that scorpion’s tail with your bare hooves! You moved faster than my eyes could follow, and you killed it with a punch that shattered the ground!”

Fletcher paused. It was a long moment before he finally looked up.

“I don’t know what manner of magic or martial art you have at your disposal, but I beg of you...” he said with a low bow, “...please, teach me. I never want to be caught without the strength to save someone again.”

Dizzy’s face remained stoic. “You wish to join me on my travels?” he asked.

Fletcher nodded.

“Are you certain? I travel all over the world, Mate. Conditions range from unforgiving desert heat, to raging blizzards upon the mountain tops. Very rarely do I stay with friends in cozy little cabins like this one. Are you prepared for such a lifestyle?” the pony asked.

Fletcher nodded again. “I’ve been traveling from town to town from the time I was banished. This has been the first time I’ve slept indoors ever since. The cold won’t be fun, but as long as I have enough limress to change into a pony, I should be fine. I will follow you wherever you go, Master,” he finished humbly.

Dizzy winced, holding up a hoof. “Hold on now,” he said. “The techniques you’re asking me to teach you would start wars and unleash decades of bloodshed if they weren’t kept from being passed on. I strive to ensure I don’t let anypony even see me use them, much less teach them to somepony.”

Fletcher’s ears flopped, his gaze finding the rug once more.

“However…”

Fletcher looked up.

“...I allowed you to see on purpose. I have seen your character, Fletcher; the resoluteness with which you stand up for doing the right thing. You didn’t owe Atalanter anything, yet you laid everything on the line for them. I want you to have the ability to defend the innocent, and all those close to you. However, before I took you on as a disciple, I would need you to swear to me that you will never use these techniques for any reason other than a means towards protecting somepony. Furthermore, under no condition are you to teach these techniques to another, save it be with my permission.”

Fletcher opened his mouth to promise, but Dizzy stopped him as he leaned forward and spoke with a low, serious tone. “And when I say I need you to swear, I’m serious. This isn’t one of those secrets you promise to keep, and then share it with your spouse or closest friend with the justification of getting them to make the same promise. That’s exactly how rumours spread. Do you understand?”

Fletcher nodded vigorously. He stood at attention and made a crossing gesture over his heart the way ponies often did.

“I swear I will only use your techniques for the benefit of others’ safety, and that I will keep the understanding of those techniques to myself, unless you permit otherwise,” he promised. Do I even have anyone to tell?

Dizzy gave a pleased smile before nodding. “Good. Mossy Mare will have my compound ready in three days. We’ll depart the morning after.”

-----------------------------------------

“All set, you two?” Evergreen asked as she followed her guests outside her front door. Both stallions were equipped with full saddle bags.

Dizzy turned and gave her a farewell hug. “Of course. Thank you for everything, Mossy.”

She nodded. “You’re welcome. Thanks for visiting,” she said. She moved on to Fletcher. “It was really interesting to meet you.” The mare wrapped a hoof around his neck and pulled him into a hug.

“Yes. Thank you for all your kindness, Miss Ev-- uh, Mossy. I definitely owe you one,” he replied as he returned her gesture.

She let out an amused sigh before breaking the embrace. “You make a pretty handsome earth pony, Fletcher,” she bantered with half lidded eyes.

A blush rose to Fletcher’s cheeks while the stallion beside him had a laugh at his expense. Fletcher had disguised himself as a chocolate brown earthpony for the trip. He figured some extra stamina would be a good idea so he’d given himself a rather... well built form without giving much thought to the possible boost in appeal it might give him.

“Of course, Luv.” Dizzy said with bouncing eyebrows. “He makes a good whatever you want.”

“Oooh,” the mare giggled. “I may have to cash in on that ‘one’ he owes me, then,” she teased as the disguised changeling shrunk away. “Aww, I’m just kidding, Fletcher,” she assured him. “Though I will admit, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t find the idea of all those possibilities exciting,” she added with a giggle.

Fletcher’s cheeks flushed with another wave of heat as he puzzled over how to respond to that. “Um… thanks?”

Dizzy chuckled again and shook his head. “Come along, Fletcher. Let’s get going,” he said as he turned to head out.

Fletcher happily took the opportunity to duck out of the awkward moment. “Yes, Master,” he replied, hastily falling into step with the stallion.

Dizzy flinched again at the title, but he shook his head and kept moving. “Farewell, Mossy,” he called over his shoulder, “and thanks again!”

“Bye! See you next time!” she beamed, waving them a warm send off.

Fletcher couldn’t help but smile a little, and returned a small wave. Thanks. For everything.

The two of them followed the road from Evergreen’s cabin into town, and passed through to the other side, picking up the trail into the forest. A quiet calm pervaded as they left the sounds of town behind. After a few minutes, Dizzy cleared his throat.

“There’s something I need to address with you, Fletcher,” he began.

Fletcher looked over to him expectantly. He’d been wondering for awhile now what was weighing on the pony’s emotional presence.

“I’m very pleased to be starting this teacher/disciple relationship with you, but I would really prefer it if you didn’t call me Master,” he told him. To Dizzy’s surprise, Fletcher’s ears fell, and he sunk to his haunches. He looked absolutely crestfallen.

“Oh. I see,” he muttered as his gaze fell to the ground. “A-as you wish,...”

Dizzy was about to ask what the big deal was when a pained expression came over his disciple’s face.

“That reminds me…” He swallowed. “...do you think we can find a nice place to stop for a moment?”

Dizzy tilted his head. “What for?”

-----------------------------------------

Fletcher finished packing down the mound of dirt and dusted off his hooves. He dispelled his disguise and sat down on his haunches, staring up at the stone in reverence. They’d found a beautiful forest glade, tranquil and untouched, with lush grass, and gentle streams of light peering through the thick canopy above. In the center, the changeling set a large chunk of slate, supported by a mound of tightly packed dirt all around it. Upon the face of the jagged stone, Fletcher carved the names of all his hivemates that fell during the battle with the Ark. Changelings that fought under his command.

Dizzy, who had been quietly watching from the glade’s edge, came and sat down beside him.

Fletcher sighed and looked up towards the sky. “It isn’t fair,” he whispered. “They laid down their lives for their hive and their Queen, yet I have no doubt that ungrateful caitiff hasn’t even bothered to honor them with a memorial yet...”

Dizzy gave a stoic nod. I see. So that’s what that reaction was about. He’s been yearning for a leader figure ever since he was banished. He let out a sigh. It’s going to make me think of them every time I hear it… but perhaps this time…

Very well.

“I’ve given it some thought, Fletcher…” Dizzy began softly.

Fletcher turned to him curiously.

“...I’ve decided I’m going to let you call me whatever you wish, but on one condition…”

Fletcher’s eyes lit up. “Yes?”

The stallion turned to him with a mischievous smile. “I get to call you by a nickname of my choosing.”

Fletcher blinked. “W-what do you wish to call me?” he stammered.

The pony shrugged. “Don’t know yet. I’ve yet to think of one I like. So? What do you say?”

Fletcher closed his eyes and nodded with a smile.

“Thank you… Master.”

-----------------------------------------

Dizzy set down his saddle bags in a grassy meadow as they finally emerged from the forest.

“Well, this looks as good a place as any to set up camp for the evening,” he said over his shoulder.

Fletcher looked around the area with a smile as he caught up. He nodded in agreement as he levitated his own saddlebags off his back.

Dizzy retrieved a hatchet from his bag and levitated it Fletcher’s way.

“I have a few logs to get us started, but can I ask you to gather up some additional firewood while I set up camp?” he asked.

Fletcher grasped the tool in his own magic with zeal. “Of course, Master,” he replied with a slight bow before heading back into the woods to complete his task. He scavenged the forest floor for felled tree bowes that would be dry enough for burning that night, then chopped a few down to dry out for the next day.

He returned to the meadow a few hours later with his bundles floating in tow behind him, only to drop them, as well as his jaw, at the sight. Dizzy had laid out their blankets over two thick piles of grass. They were set up on either side of a fire which was encircled with stones, and crowned by a cast iron cauldron hanging from a large spit. The campsite was surrounded by a circle of twelve oil torches mounted on tall poles of bamboo. The lights amidst the fleeting twilight gave the scene a very inviting feeling. The aforementioned stallion had been laying on his blanket reading a book when Fletcher came out of the forest. He looked up when he heard Fletcher drop everything.

“Ah, well done my friend. Thank you,” he said as he gathered Fletcher’s haul in his aura and assembled them in two neat piles next to the fire pit.

Fletcher shook his head in disbelief, looking around as he walked into the camp proper. “Where did all of this come from, Master?” he asked in bewilderment. There was no way the pony had been carrying a cauldron and a spit in his saddlebags.

Dizzy licked his hoof and turned a page. “I brought them out from my Keep,” he answered nonchalantly. He let Fletcher stew with that for a few moments before he glanced up with a wry smile. “Sorry, would you like me to get you a book from my collection as well?” he asked.

Fletcher’s mouth failed to perform its proper function for a few seconds. “C-collection? Y-you have books?” he stammered, excitement replacing the astonished look on his face. Then he shook his head. “Wait a second, I thought you were nomadic. Where do you have a keep around here?”

Dizzy chuckled. “Well, nomads typically have very few possessions because they constantly move from place to place. I however, keep many journals, craft beautiful works of art and design, and collect all manner of things on my journeys, from books, to precious materials, and treasures. I’m able to do so and still travel the world on my endeavors because I’m able to access my Keep from anywhere,” he explained.

Fletcher raised an eyebrow. “I thought you said you couldn’t teleport because of your handicap,” he pointed out.

Dizzy nodded. “That’s correct,” he said, tapping the stub on his forehead. Then he asked in a teacher’s sort of fashion, “Can you think of another way of instantly getting into a sealed cavern underneath a mountain several hundred leagues away?”

Fletcher tapped his chin and stared at the fire in thought. After several minutes, he finally answered, “I can’t say that I can, Master. Teleporting seems like the only answer, especially since the cavern is supposedly sealed.”

Dizzy nodded again. “It’s not a commonly known technique. To be honest, I would have been surprised if you knew about it, but it’s always worthwhile taking an opportunity for contemplation,” he said as he stepped off his makeshift pillow. Then he sat on his haunches and held a foreleg straight out to the side. He closed his eyes and began to mutter what sounded like an incantation.

“Mittervok Kestome Eve Magica: Ryddhau en sel ot en Gyt ot en Keppet.”

As he spoke, a set of runes lit up with a white glow from within one of the dark stripes on Dizzy’s leg. With a steady hum, the ring of runes actually lifted off the surface and spun around his leg as they drifted off in the direction he was pointing. Then they expanded until the ring was as tall as he was. Fletcher watched with awe as the space within the ring rippled and shimmered like the surface of a pond, until, like a flame eating a hole in an old sheet of parchment, tendrils of light tore a hole from the center outward, licking away reality as they went, until they finally settled at the edge of the ring.

Dizzy gestured toward it with a tilt of his head. “Have a look.”

Keeping a safe distance, Fletcher stepped closer to Dizzy’s side to get a better look. What had seemed to be just a dark hole in the air, was actually proving to be a view into a dark room of some kind. It was like looking into the window of someone’s house.

Dizzy picked a skinny log out of the fire with his magic and stood up. “Come, I’ll give you a tour,” he said, leading the way. Fletcher watched incredulously as the stallion walked right through the hole. He stood up and looked around the other side of it, only to find nothing there.

“Come along, Fletcher,” Dizzy called from inside, snapping him out of his wonder.

Fletcher sprung into step to catch up to the stallion, hesitating briefly before stepping through the rift. As he caught up, he pressed the question, “What was that, Master? Is this place really where I think it is?”

Dizzy was lighting several torches that he had summoned over to him, and sent them back to their various sconces throughout the cavern, granting the area light.

“It’s a four-dimensional portal. Unlike teleportation where the user transports themselves from one location to another, a four dimensional portal takes two three-dimensional spaces, and folds them side-by-side, allowing the user to simply move to the new location by conventional means. The major benefit is that I can pull it off using runes instead of my horn. The downside is, unlike teleportation which allows a user to go just about wherever they please, I can only open a portal to a spot where I already have a tesseract set up. Sadly, the required materials for making one aren’t very easy to come by. It’s not every day one comes across prismatic liquid sapphire,” he explained.

Fletcher looked around the cavern with awe. It felt more like he was in a well trimmed castle than an underground cave. The floor was adorned with red carpets, marking the isles between countless shelves and racks of Dizzy’s possessions. Dizzy lead him past alchemy sets and various scientific instruments, cultural souvenirs from around the world, and suits of armor and weapons from all the different ages. Fletcher approached a rack of swords and marveled at the beautiful craftsmanship. He picked out one in particular that had caught his eye. Not only was it aesthetically gorgeous, but the balance was incredible.

“Ah, yes. I was rather proud of that piece,” Dizzy commented from over his shoulder. “It came together rather stunningly.”

Fletcher blinked. “Wait. You made this!?” he asked incredulously.

The stallion smiled and nodded before moving further on into the keep. “Indeed. ’Tis a beautiful art, Blacksmithing. It has a wonderfully zen-like process. I think you’ll love it-- Ah, here we are.”

Before them lay aisle after aisle of countless books.

“Any topic or genre in particular you’d like to indulge in?” Dizzy asked over his shoulder.

Fletcher was suddenly aware that he had been drooling. He cleared his throat as he wiped his muzzle. Daring to hope for the one topic he’d been yearning to find history on, he muttered, “I don’t suppose you have any historical texts recorded by changelings, do you?”

Dizzy’s ears fell as he gave him an empathetic look. “Sorry, Mate. You lot don’t tend to record much. Certainly not anything that I’ve been able to get my hooves on,” he said.

Fletcher bobbed his head in acceptance. He expected as much. It was one of the things he envied ponies for. Whole buildings dedicated to the keeping of texts; from historical, to informational, even leisure based. “That’s fair,” he muttered. “You’re right, changelings never write anything.” He let out a sigh. “I suppose since we pass on our collective knowledge base during foaling development, there isn’t much of a need to record any knowledge in a hard copy format. Still, I wish there was something on the works of individual changelings past.”

Dizzy started laughing.

Fletcher blinked. “What?”

Dizzy waved a hoof. “Sorry, sorry. I completely understand your desire for specifics, don’t get me wrong, but do you know how badly a pony foal would wish they could learn things from their teachers instantly like you lot can? I’ve never come across a foal that enjoyed being cooped up in a classroom for years on end.”

Fletcher gave a half-lidded stare at that. “I’d like to point out that it’s not expected of pony fillies and colts to gather food for their families, or be prepared for situations where they have to fight for their lives,” he said dryly.

Dizzy’s laughter died in his throat. “Ahem, yes… a fair point. My apologies.”

Fletcher waved him off. “It’s alright. If it makes you feel any better, I personally haven’t used most of the spells I was taught. Most of them were stasis spells... or spells for altering memories... that sort of thing,” he muttered somberly.

“Mmmm, some frightening things in your repertoire, isn’t there?” Dizzy mused with a nod.

Fletcher shook his head. “I try not to think about it.”

Dizzy offered a smile as he put a hoof on Fletcher’s shoulder. “Spells are just tools, Mate. All that matters is what you use them for. Perhaps I’ll have you teach me someday.”

Fletcher blinked. “You wish for me to teach you, Master?”

Dizzy chuckled. “Well of course. I’d be a horrible scholar if I believed there wasn’t something to learn from everyone. And you shouldn’t sell yourself short, either. I may have taken you on as my disciple, but I’m certain I’ll be learning a great deal from you, my friend. At any rate…” he said as he dusted off and offered him a thick, old looking journal. “...all the information was garnered through observation alone, but I do have several of my own journals on your species, if you’re interested.”

Fletcher solemnly shook his head. “Thank you, Master, but I’m not really in the mood anymore,” he said.

Dizzy put a hoof on his shoulder as he turned to lead him back. “That’s fine. Perhaps we should do something a little more socially engaging anyway. Come, I’ll show you how to play cards.”

-----------------------------------------

“Can you tell me more about Fau--, er... Galaxia and Nocteous?” Fletcher asked as he discarded a jack of clubs on the pile.

“Certainly,” Dizzy replied as he drew from the deck, added the card to his fan, and contemplated his next move. “Tell me how much you know and we’ll start from there.”

Fletcher swallowed. “Well, we don’t have much solid information about her, other than a myth about a supposed Goddess that was responsible for creating… well, everything. We have several conflicting bits of information regarding what she looks like, whether she’s benevolent or malevolent, and whether or not she even exists,” he said.

Dizzy nodded as he tossed a card on the pile to end his turn. “I see. Well, that’s fairly typical for most who aren’t native to Equestria. In fact, the theology is lost even on most natives despite our close ties with the Gods,” he replied.

Fletcher raised a brow.

Dizzy smiled and answered the unasked question with another. “You’re aware of how the Princess of Equestria raises the sun and the moon, correct?”

Fletcher’s brows furrowed.

Immortal being.

Royal stature.

Magical power sufficient to move Celestial bodies through space.

Click.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Fletcher blurted, waving his hooves. “You mean Princess Celestia is Faust herself!? W-who is Nocteous then!?”

The pony chuckled and shook his head. “No, Princess Celestia is not Galaxia. Galaxia is Celestia’s Mother, and Nocteous is her proud Father,” he explained. “It’s your turn by the way.”

“Oh,” Fletcher shook his head and looked back at his fan as he drew a card. “So... the God’s are ponies then?” he asked hesitantly.

“They’re alicorns, yes,” Dizzy confirmed.

The changeling looked dejected. “I was afraid of that,” he muttered as he laid a card on the pile.

Dizzy tilted his head, “What do you mean?”

Fletcher sighed. “Well, since no one could tell me what Faust was, I often worried she might not be a changeling. That wouldn’t be a big deal in and of itself, but if she wasn’t a changeling then there was the possibility she’d be one of the world’s other creatures. If Faust and Nocteous were creatures not found in the world, then it wouldn’t matter, but since they’re ponies… they probably only care about their chosen people,” he said sadly. “Do changelings, dragons, and the rest of us even go anywhere when we die, or were we just put here to be extra scenery for you guys?”

The stallion was stunned. He could have wept after hearing how the changeling had misinterpreted his situation. Dizzy closed his eyes and slowly laid his fan of cards down.

“That’s not the case at all, Fletcher. It can be said of one who makes things, that they take varying levels of pride across all the things they’ve ever made, it’s true. Some things had more time and effort put into them, some things exhibit the experience and growth of the creator over time, while other things had no passion poured into them at all…”

Fletcher’s ears folded. This wasn’t making him feel any better.

“...but Galaxia and Nocteous don’t just go about creating things. They’re parents, and I’m not just referring the Princesses. Every soul, every spirit, yours included, was sired by heavenly parents before their body was sired by mortal ones.

“Now, granted, some think parents play favorites with their children, but good parents, perfect parents in this case, have plenty of love to go around for all their children. Galaxia and Nocteous love you just as much as they love me or any other pony,” he said. He picked his fan back up and drew a card. “Now you’d best not degrade yourself as ‘just scenery’ ever again or you’ll make your Mother cry,” he added.

Fletcher had gone nearly catatonic. My M-Mother??? G-Goddess….M-Mother…
...F-Father...Nocteous...s-soul...

Dizzy watched his apprentice’s twitching with a knowing smile. He decided five minutes had been long enough and flicked a card at his disciple’s forehead.

Fletcher shook his head and blinked repeatedly. “What?”

“It’s your turn, Mate,” Dizzy said with a grin.

“Uh, right…” Fletcher picked up a card and considered his fan. “Wait, did you say Princesses?” he asked.

Dizzy laughed at the delay. “Yes, I did,” he confirmed. “We’ve already established Celestia raises the sun and the moon, right?”

Fletcher nodded.

“If you ever see her in person, you’ll see that her mark only depicts the sun,” Dizzy said.

Fletcher blinked. “So… where is the Princess that’s supposed to raise the moon?”

Dizzy folded his forelegs. “Well, to put it very simply, they were having a bit of a sibling’s squabble and it was quickly getting out of hoof. So, Princess Celestia was forced to discipline her little sister by placing her in... ‘time-out’, so to speak,” he explained, pointed up at the sky.

Fletcher raised a brow in confusion before looking up. His gaze settled on the night sky’s largest and brightest feature. Then his eyes widened. “Whoa, wait! You mean the ‘Mare in the Moon’ is literally--” he trailed off when he saw the stallion nodding. Fletcher gazed back at the moon in stunned silence. He’d always seen it, but he thought it was just a charming myth, spun about by the coincidental pattern on the moon’s surface.

“C-can… can she see us?” he whispered, not taking his eyes away from the bright sphere.

Dizzy chuckled. “No. She slumbers. Although... her ‘sentence’ should be up in a few years, which will be... interesting, to say the least.”

Fletcher couldn’t help but notice the small increase of joy in the stallion’s signature. He was about to ask about it when the pony changed the subject.

“Well, I have good news and bad news…” he said after he picked up a card. “The bad news is, you’re about to lose. But the good news is, I’ve found your new nickname.”

At Fletcher’s raised brow, Dizzy gave a dangerous grin and tossed down a card. Fletcher looked down at the pile and was met by a joker with a crooked smile.

“Pleasure to make your acquaintance... Wildcard.”

-----------------------------------------

“Today, we’re going to begin your study and investigation of earth pony magic,” Dizzy announced.

Fletcher blinked….. then rubbed his ear.

“Sorry Master, but I thought you said earth pony magic,” he said with a quizzical look.

The stallion smiled at him. “I did. I’m going to teach you earth pony magic, or Essence magic as it’s also called. And yes…” he added with a chuckle, “...earth ponies do have magic.” Dizzy gestured to the mountain and the surrounding area. “This is a choice opportunity to introduce Essence magic. A scarce few even know about this place, so we won’t be seen, and the techniques we’ll study apply very well to what we’ll be doing here.” He leaned forward and whispered, like he was sharing a secret. “Essence magic is what I was using when I swatted that scorpion like a fly,” he added with a wink.

Fletcher perked up at that. His ears went rigid and he leaned forward excitedly… until his brain reminded him that something didn’t add up.

“Wait, you used earth pony magic? But… you’re a unicorn…”

The stallion just chuckled and shook his head. “A fair point. To answer that, let’s first address how we understand magic in general. Up until now you’ve understood magic to be reserved for a select few species that have some means of accessing it, like a horn, correct?”

Fletcher nodded.

“In reality, there are many different forms of magic, mastered by many different races. Some forms are only possible for a certain species because of physical biology. However, there are other forms that, while dominated by a particular race, are not one hundred percent out of reach to others. For example, a house cat could swim. She probably wouldn’t like it, mind you, but she could do it,” Dizzy explained.

Fletcher tilted his head in thought. “So… can you use fire magic like a jackal?”

The stallion shook his head. “It should be noted that learning to use a magic outside one’s scope is extremely slow going, and first requires a level of knowledge and understanding of the subject even greater than a seasoned master in order to translate it into something useable for one’s own species. It was many, many years before I was able to do what an earthpony foal could learn in a day; I haven’t quite gotten around to jackal magic yet,” he added with a wink.

“One of the reasons I offered to teach you however, is that you have a distinct advantage when it comes to learning this material,” he said, pointing to him. “Being able to physically change into the respective races will accelerate your progress significantly, even for your natural form.”

Fletcher smiled at that. “So what’s first?” he asked. If he could learn to harness that kind of power, he was sure he could protect anyone from any monster, regardless of how big it was.

Dizzy smiled as he led him to an exposed, flat stone in the ground, large enough for a pony to lie down on comfortably. Dizzy sat down in front of it, and gestured for Fletcher to sit on the stone.

“We’re going to start with an exercise,” he said. “Close your eyes.”

Fletcher sat down on his haunches and obeyed, keeping his mind’s eye fixed on the presence in front of him as he awaited further instruction.

“Be sure not to open your eyes unless directed. Keep your body still, but relaxed and comfortable.” Dizzy instructed. “Take a deep breath and hold it…” He watched his disciple’s chest expand to capacity and waited a few moments. “…and let it out,” he directed. “Clear your mind. Let all of our surroundings fade into the background. I imagine it’s a little tougher for you even with closed eyes, but try to ignore any animals and the like. The only things I want you to focus on is yourself, and my voice. Now, again: deep breath,” he ordered.

Fletcher savored the blissful feeling of calmness as it washed over his mind, his tense muscles softening. Simple enough.

After Fletcher let out a few more steady breathes, Dizzy continued.

“Good. Now tell me… where are you?” he asked. “And I don’t mean ‘sitting on a rock at the base of a mountain’,” he clarified as he stepped up to him. Fletcher felt him rest a hoof on his head.

“I’m talking about in here,” Dizzy said as he shook Fletcher’s head about playfully. “Look and ‘see’ the different points within your own body, and tell me, where are you?”

Fletcher was dumbstruck. What a question, he thought as he tried to do what he was told.

How do I even… Am I in my head? I don’t know, that would make the most sense… but where? Behind the eyes? Maybe, but wouldn’t that imply that I rely on my eyes the most?... Am I in my chest then? Sensing my environment by presences and emotions with my heart and my limress tank?....

Well, I can rule out my legs at least… and I’m certainly not hanging out in my plot… but I don’t know how else to narrow it down. Where am I?

Thankfully, Dizzy came to his rescue.

“Tough question, isn’t it,” he asked knowingly.

Fletcher nodded. “It really is. I can honestly say I’ve never thought about it like this before.”

Dizzy tittered. “You’re not alone, don’t worry. Don’t overthink it. What matters is that you’re in there somewhere, and now that you’re more aware of yourself from the inside, you can place your focus anywhere in your body. This is the basis for many Essence magic techniques. You have an essence. For living creatures, one’s essence is very closely connected to one’s soul, or consciousness. It should be noted, however, that all things have an essence, whether they have a soul or not.

“You have an essence connected to your soul, but so does each particle that makes up your body and everything else in this universe. It is the essence in all these particles that makes them obey natural laws and forces. Now, like I said, Magic is not just the arcane magic that you’re familiar with, but rather, it is defined by any ability to change, or go against, the effects of the universe’s natural laws. In Arcane magic, one forcibly rewrites the directives of the essences involved, but in earth pony magic, one compels essences to obey them instead of the natural laws. The biggest difference is that one requires mana and uses sequences, or ‘codes’, in the form of spells, while the other works solely on strength of will and its ability to overpower the effects of a natural law on an essence,” Dizzy explained.

Fletcher winced a bit. “That makes magic sound a little… I dunno... mean, doesn’t it?”

Dizzy laughed. “What you have to remember, Mate, is that an essence doesn’t necessarily coincide with a consciousness. A glass of water will hardly be offended if a unicorn overrides its properties to turn it to the color green. And it won’t think of an earth pony as being a brute by forcing their will upon it.

“That does however raise a good point, in that earth pony magic has a distinct disadvantage in that regard. Since one would have to compel water to change color, it takes substantially more energy and concentration for an earthpony, than it would a unicorn. This is why essence magic isn’t typically used for changing the properties of things, or the many other spells that arcane magic is so proficient at.

“What essence magic is very proficient at, however, is manipulating an object through its collective essence, and the manipulation of forces,” Dizzy explained.

“So... can earth ponies defy gravity?” Fletcher asked, tapping his chin.

Dizzy chortled, and shook his head. “I won’t say it isn’t possible, but it would take an immense amount of concentration. I’ve only ever seen a draconequus defy gravity, but with their level of essence magic, they can do a lot more than make a glass of water change color.”

“What’s a draconequus?” Fletcher asked. He noticed a hint of scorn rise in Dizzy’s signature, but he didn’t show any outward signs of it as he spoke.

“Ah yes. A draconequus is a creature that is made up of parts from different animals. Most commonly they have the head of an equine and the body of a serpentine dragon, thus the name, but their limbs range anywhere from talons, to paws, to hooves. They’re versed in essence magic to a frightening degree, and they’re not a very friendly bunch. Thankfully, the lot of them are either stuck in Tartarus, or imprisoned elsewise,” Dizzy answered. He shook his head. “But we’ve gotten off topic. Let’s get back to the exercise. Now, pay close attention to your left forehoof, and tell me what’s happening,” Dizzy directed.

The instruction seemed a little odd, but Fletcher did his best to follow and cast his attention to the base of his limb. Just as he imagined, nothing particularly special seemed to be happening, but then again, he wasn’t really sure what he was looking for.

“... nothing seems to be happening per se, Master. Is there something you want me to be do-- Wait. Hold on...”

Suddenly there was… something moving within his hoof. The only way he could think of to describe it, was a light. Watching it was somewhat like looking at the sun through closed eyelids. Whatever it was, it emanated a pleasantly gentle warmth all the way up his leg, and sent tingles throughout the rest of his body.

“There’s… something in my hoof. A light or something,” Fletcher answered. He felt sure that Dizzy was nodding.

“Very good. What you are ‘seeing’ right now is actually an extension of my essence. Open your eyes,” Dizzy ordered.

Fletcher let the rest of the world in again, and noticed that Dizzy had placed a hoof on the stone. His eyes went wide when his Master continued to speak.

“The beauty of essence magic is that by being in contact with a target, either directly or through a chain of contact, one can do all sorts of things using their essence,” the stallion said. What had Fletcher’s jaw hanging however, was the fact that he said it without speaking.

Seeing his reaction, Dizzy laughed heartily in Fletcher’s head, while the only visible evidence of the stallion’s mirth was a slight smile on his face.

“Case in point: Row, row, row your boat. Gently down the stream…” the pony sang in Fletcher’s mind. Then he took his hoof off the stone. “...merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily...” Dizzy’s singing got significantly quieter, but it was still detectable. Then he placed his hoof back on the stone. “...Life is but a dream,” he finished.

The light in Fletcher’s hoof disappeared and Dizzy opened his mouth to speak with his real voice, “As you can see, the effectiveness of your connection depends on how direct your contact is, and the number and types of different materials that are in your chain,” he explained as he gestured to the stone, and then to the dirt below his other three hooves.

Only now was the changeling able to remember himself, and reel in his wayward jaw.

“Th-that’s… astounding,” he muttered. Already his mind was filling with the desire to test the parameters of different materials and chains, and he hadn’t even learned the technique yet!

“Come with me,” Dizzy said, as he turned and led Fletcher to the mountain’s base. Several meters up, was a large boulder about four times their height, wedged up by some smaller rocks. Instructing Fletcher to sit off to the side, Dizzy then stepped into the path of the boulder.

Fletcher looked at him, and then to the boulder. Just as he put two and two together, Dizzy used his telekinesis to remotely remove the wedge before Fletcher could say anything. The ground rumbled as the boulder rolled down its trajectory.

“Now,” Dizzy projected over the noise, “Many earth ponies, as you know, tend to be a little stubborn, and that comes from their inherent abilities to stand their ground...”

“M-Master, I d-don’t think...” Fletcher stammered, panicking as he looked back and forth between him and the oncoming merchant of death.

“Essence magic can be used as a powerful offencive force, but it can also be used to channel opposing forces away from the user,” Dizzy continued, despite his disciple’s concern. He took a stance, carefully placing a hind hoof on another flat stone set in the ground. Three of his legs were rigidly planted on the ground, while a single fore-leg extended forward to meet the rock.

“M-Master!”

BAM!

Fletcher’s eyes went wide. All the boulder’s momentum had been entirely disrupted by a single hoof! He looked down at the stallion’s hooves on the ground. He hadn’t even been forced back! A vision of the pony stopping the giant scorpion’s tail suddenly replayed in his mind. Of course.

“As we know, when an object is in motion it has energy, and if we want to stop it we have to remove that energy. That is a natural law. For an object to slow down naturally, the energy from the object has to be transferred elsewhere. Usually the ground. With essence magic, one can use their essence like a pipe, to transfer that energy instantly,” Dizzy explained. He gestured to the flat stone he was standing on and lifted up his hind hoof. Fletcher let out a small gasp. Below the stallion’s hoof was a densely spaced, spiderweb crack in the stone.

“Have you ever wondered why earth ponies are so uncomfortable when they aren’t in contact with the ground? They themselves don’t realise the reason, but it’s because their bodies inherently know they are more vulnerable without that connection,” Dizzy said.

“Now… as powerful as Essence magic can be, it can also be very elegant,” the stallion continued as he wandered over to his saddle bags and dug out a carton of eggs. He took one out and brought it back to the boulder. Balancing it between his hoof and the rock, he took a very similar stance to the one before. Fletcher watched intently as the pony took a few long breaths.

With a sudden shout, a wave ran through the fur of Dizzy’s foreleg and the boulder was blown away like a watermelon shot with a magic blast. As the dust settled, Fletcher saw the pony gently tossing up and catching an egg that was very much intact. With a triumphant smile, Dizzy tossed it just short of Fletcher’s hooves, where the shell shattered and its contents spilled out over the ground.

“No funny business,” Dizzy explained with a wink. “So, are you ready for some instruction?”

The changeling stiffened up and gave a determined look.

“Absolutely, Master!”

-------------------**:**----------------------

Dizzy lead his apprentice to the entrance of an old cave. “You’ve made some substantial progress this week, Wildcard. Well done.”

Fletcher felt his cheeks warm at the praise. “Thank you, Master.”

“Today we’re going to test your mettle, but first I’m going to teach you a new trick,” the stallion declared. “Last night I tossed a delinquent critter in this old labyrinth. You can sense it, right?”

Fletcher nodded. A fair ways in and a little to the left, was a fuming emotional signature.

“Good, but here’s the real question,” Dizzy continued. “Can you tell what it is?” As expected, Fletcher shook his head. Dizzy nodded. “Right, well let me show you how to ‘see’ what you can’t see with your eyes... or elsewise. Close your eyes, and ‘look’ into your surroundings with your essence. How far can you see?”

Fletcher closed his eyes and took long steady breaths. He reached out into the ground with his essence and stretched out as far as he could go, which sadly, was only a little more than a meter radius. He could ‘see’ Master Spell beside him, including his beating heart and glowing essence, as well as a few tiny moles living under ground.

“I can see you, Master, but not much more than that. I’d say about a meter all around and a little ways into the ground. After that, it starts to get fuzzy,” he answered.

He saw Dizzy nod. “Good. Keep your eyes closed,” he instructed as he walked over and stood on one of the denser ‘looking’ rocks embedded in the ground. “Now, watch what I do and see what happens. This is called the surveyor's hammer.”

Fletcher watched Dizzy’s essence move into and reinforce the stone through his left foreleg and also build up in his right as he wound up a punch. He struck the stone hard and Fletcher saw a huge pulse radiate outward, ‘lighting up’ the world around them. Before them, he could see the entire labyrinth; every wall, every route… and deep within a large clearing, he saw what it was that was so angry.

“A hydra?! You tossed a hydra in there?!” he balked.

Dizzy shrugged. “Well I say tossed.”

-----------------------------------------

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!”

“Come on, Mate. Don’t let panic force you into falling back on old habits, use what I taught you,” Dizzy yelled from the sidelines.

“HE WANTS TO EAT ME!” Fletcher yelled back, desperately weaving and dodging through the giant, living bear traps snapping at him as he ran. He was currently using the form of an earth pony to achieve best results with essence magic, but it was severely costing him in overall mobility. “AND HE HAS EIGHT HEADS WITH WHICH TO DO IT! WHY ISN’T HE GOING AFTER YOU AT ALL?!”

Dizzy chuckled and shrugged. “I’m pretty sure he knows better at this point.” He shook his head. “Come on, Wildcard, focus! What do you need to do first?”

Fletcher ducked behind one of the rock formations. “T-Take a deep breath to clear the mind-- AH!” he yelped as he abandoned the rock to its fate. He continued to avoid claw swipes and jaw snaps. “Con-- Woah! C-Concentrate internally on your essence and reinforce a path for flow-- DAH! --along the foreleg. Compress energy in the shoulder, and fill lungs-- AH! --to capacity. Make contact with target, and flex diaphragm to void lungs and fire compressed energy-- THAT’S ALL SIMPLER SAID THAN DONE, MASTER!” he yelled indignantly.

Dizzy smiled. “Most things are, Mate.”

“Could we not-- DAH! --have started with something simpler!? It’s fairly difficult to clear one’s mind when one is under-- AH! --constant assault!” Fletcher cried.

Dizzy shook his head. “This is how you grow, Wildcard. A military veteran like yourself? Aluminum can be cold-forged, but steel must pass through a refiner’s fire before it can be turned into something useful. You know how to perform the techniques, now’s the time to hone them in the type of environment you’ll be using them. No opponent’s going to wait for you to clear your thoughts, so you’d best learn how to do it while under duress,” he chastised him.

That wasn’t the answer Fletcher was hoping for. He ducked under yet another swipe. Jeeze! I’ve had about enough ducking and dodging! If only I could fly! Fletcher blinked. He was hit with the realization that it wasn’t Master Spell that said anything about what form he had to do this in, he had just taken the initiative because it was a lot easier to form a channel in an earth pony’s foreleg, than one riddled with holes.

Mentally kicking himself, he transformed into a pegasus and took off. Finally getting out of range, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. With a channel reinforced in his right foreleg, he glared down at his opponent. You’re going down.

Fletcher rolled into a dive bomb and wound up his hoof, focusing his essence in his shoulder as he plummeted. Falling within range, he launched his hoof with a loud roar, making contact squarely between the eyes of one of the hydra’s heads.

Crack!

It was no invisible mountain, but he’d just delivered a good deal more damage in one punch than Fletcher ever had before; the small crater in his opponent’s skull serving to prove as much. The hydra screamed, the abused head wincing and squirming in pain. Fletcher drew a full breath through his nostrils as he bolted for another head.

Bam!

He dislocated its jaw with another magically enhanced strike. The hydra’s heads wreathed and hissed at him as it cowered several steps back. Fletcher stared it down, panting as he landed on the ground. He heard his master’s hoof steps approach from behind.

“It doesn’t seem like our little friend wants to play anymore,” Dizzy remarked. He glanced at Fletcher and smiled. “Nicely done, Mate. You’ve got a ways to go, but I’m impressed with the amount of control you managed to pull off in the body of a pegasus,” he complimented.

“Huff, huff… Thank you, Master.”

--------------------**:**--------------------

Fletcher awoke from slumber, but found that the sky was still dark. The moon was still high in the sky, casting a silvery glow upon his surroundings, the fire now diminished to a few glowing embers. He noticed that Dizzy wasn’t in his ‘bed’, or anywhere within the campsite for that matter. Fletcher glanced to his right. He felt the stallion a little ways off in that direction, his presence emanating… remorse… longing…

The changeling’s ears fell. He’d noticed his master having these feelings a few times before, but the pony always seemed to chase them away and brighten up on his own. It was clear however, that something happened in his past that left him downtrodden. Perhaps tonight, Master Spell would be willing to accept his ear.

Fletcher got to his hooves with a yawn and stretched away the stiffness. He smacked his lips together as he left the protective ward of the bamboo torches, and strolled into the forest. He found Dizzy sitting at the edge of a small lake. Fletcher looked around with awe. He could see why the stallion would be drawn to such a place in the middle of the night, for only at night would such a place look this beautiful. The water’s surface was a perfect sheet of glass from shore to shore, a perfect mirror of the starry sky above. The full moon bathed the trees in silvery light, and fireflies danced above the water-reeds and lily pads. The entire scene spoke of serenity.

Fletcher quietly sat down next to his Master and stared out over the lake. “A little reminiscing?” he asked.

The stallion gave a low hum in the affirmative. He looked upward to the sky and let out a heavy sigh. “I used to catch my late sister squirrelling away in the middle of the night to places like this. She’d fly about over the lake like she hadn’t a care in the world. She was the textbook definition of a free spirit,” he said with a smile.

Fletcher’s lips curled up on one side. “You had a pegasus for a sister? What was that like?”

“Oh, she was the most gorgeous pegasus you’ve ever seen, Mate. Her coat was pure white, more so than freshly fallen snow. Her mane and tail were blue, like a crystal clear lake on a summer’s day,” he described as he gestured to the lake in front of them. “And her feathers…” his words trailed off with an air of awe, and he simply passed his apprentice what had been resting between his forelegs. It seemed like a long and slender stone.

As Fletcher took it and looked closer, the moonlight revealed that the jagged stone was actually clear as glass, and encased inside it was a perfectly preserved primary feather. Fletcher’s jaw dropped in awe as he turned it in the moonlight. The feather had a beautiful, perfectly blended gradient of yellows, greens, and blues.

“This came from a pony?” he asked in awe. It looked like a better match for a phoenix of some type.

Dizzy continued to smile as he gazed out at the lake’s surface. “Each one of her feathers could stand as a work of art on their own, but together?… an absolute masterpiece,” he said reverently. “She was very aptly named: Prism Feather.”

Fletcher smiled. “I assume then, that she had more colors on her other feathers?”

“Every color you can imagine, Mate,” Dizzy confirmed with a nod. Then he chuckled suddenly. “She usually didn’t know it, but once the fillies were asleep, I often followed her out to places like this and watched her fly from the lakeside. She’d dip down and stroke the lake, making the colors in her reflection smear like paint. Then as she pulled up again, she’d flick the water up with her, surrounding herself with millions of tiny prisms that captured her colors in the moonlight. An absolutely stunning sight,” he muttered wistfully.

Fletcher let him revel in the memory for a moment, before he allowed himself to ask his burning question. “Fillies, Master?”

“Hmm? Oh, yes. My brother and sister and I were charged with raising two little fillies. They… they were darlings,” he said somberly.

Fletcher winced. “Are… are they still alive?” he asked hesitantly.

“Yes…” he replied. Fletcher felt the pony’s emotions take a bit of a dive. “We aren’t in contact anymore though, sadly.”

“Perhaps we could plan a visit? A much needed reunion, I’m sure,” Fletcher asked hopefully, but to his dismay the pony’s signature dropped a little more.

“I… can’t,” Dizzy muttered, pain heavy in his voice as he turned his head away.

Fletcher winced. It seemed to be a very painful subject for the stallion. He grasped for a straw hoping it might salvage the situation. “How about your brother?” he asked.

This seemed to just make it worse, because now the stallion’s presence was filling with anger and disdain.

“My brother is in prison. He’s the pony who broke my horn… and killed my sister,” Dizzy muttered with scorn.

……. eep!

Fletcher desperately searched for a way to lighten the mood somehow.

Suddenly they heard a mare’s scream off in the distance. “Ahhh! Somepony help me! Please!”
Dizzy and Fletcher lept to their hooves and bolted in the mare’s direction.

“Help!” she cried again. The sound was getting closer. Eventually they came to a clearing where the sound was the loudest, but there was no one there. They heard her scream again just off to their right, but as they moved to follow, she screamed again, this time from the left. They turned around in confusion as they heard her calls coming from every direction, including where they had just come from. “Help me!....Somepony help!... Please, help me!....

Dizzy scowled as he hunted through the trees with his eyes. “Careful, Wildcard, I’m afraid we’ve been baited here by a malicious spirit. Keep your wits about you.”

He heard his apprentice cry out beside him, “Master! Lookout!”

Dizzy turned in the opposite direction and met a horrible creature’s face, mere inches from his own! It shook its head wildly at him and blithered like a turkey, its tongue and jowls swinging about haphazardly. The sudden proximity and horrifying sight were enough to startle even him.

“BAH!” he yelled as he fell back on his side. Before he had a chance to recollect his wits and launch a counteroffensive, the creature burst into flames…

...revealing a giggling changeling.

“Hahahahahahahahaha, you, you should have seen your face, hahahaha,” Fletcher teased.

Dizzy blinked. He glanced behind him where he’d just heard the changeling, then looked back in confusion. “W-what?”

Fletcher opened his mouth, and the mare’s voice they had been chasing sounded from the right, then the left, then skipped around to every corner of the clearing before it finally localized back to Fletcher’s mouth, and he finished by speaking with his lips.

The stallion broke out into laughter. “Ventriloquism? You cheeky little gremlin, you!” he scowled playfully as his took Fletcher’s offered hoof. “Who taught you to pull pranks?” he asked with a knowing smile.

“Well…” Fletcher replied mischievously, “I’ve had a few mentors in the past, but lately I’ve been taking pointers from a Pro.”

Dizzy laughed. Then he raised his brow as something occurred to him. “You had enough limress to turn into a Chupacabra?”

The changeling smiled and shrugged. “Been saving up... for the right occasion,” he said with a wink.

Dizzy smiled warmly in return. “Thanks, Mate.” He threw his foreleg over Fletcher’s withers and gave him a thankful squeeze before they made their way back to the lakeside. As they walked Dizzy started chuckling. Fletcher raised a curious brow.

“The fillies used to love playing tricks on us.” He snorted. “Heck, half the time they got their ideas from Prism. Those girls were naughty things, the lot o’them,” he chuckled to himself as they made it back to their spot by the lake.

“Speaking of naughty little fillies…” he shot Fletcher a mischievous smile, “you notice anything different about tonight?”

Fletcher’s brows creased in confusion. Tonight? Naughty little…

His eyes widened, and darted up to the sky. The moon……. It was blank.

“M-M-Master?” he stammered.

“Yes,” the stallion confirmed, “the Alicorn of the Night, formerly known as Princess Luna, has been released from her… time out. And believe it or not,” he said as he nonchalantly pulled out his pocket watch, “it’s actually 10:30 in the morning.”

“WHAT?!” Fletcher back pedaled, his internal clock sent reeling. When he woke up, it set itself when he checked the position of the moon, and since he’d been awake for 24 minutes, 42 seconds and counting, that should have made it roughly 3:30 am. What was going on? Princess Celestia usually rose the sun at 6:00 am sharp this time of year.

“Has Luna done something to her Sister!? Shouldn’t we do something, Master!?” he asked with growing concern. What would happen if the sun never rose again? He’d freeze! And if that didn’t knock him off, his only food source at the moment would starve to death himself!

Dizzy closed his pocket watch and casually polished it. “Don’t underestimate the Princess, Mate. Celestia has been protecting this country for several millennia, and has even had one to prepare for this very day. You can bet she has more than a few aces up her sleeve,” he said confidently. “If the sun hasn’t returned in a day or two then we’ll intervene. Until then, I wouldn’t sweat it.”

He stood up and dusted himself off. “Now come, we have much to do today and we’re burning moonlight.”

-------------------**:**-------------------

"Today's lesson is one I know you've eagerly been waiting for," Dizzy began.

An excited grin split Fletcher's lips, and his ears stood up even straighter than usual. The speed trick!

"Before we start, do you see that little cloud up there?" the stallion asked, pointing up into the sky.

Fletcher glanced at the cloud in question and nodded.

Dizzy gestured to the space in front of him. "Would you mind bringing it down here for us?"

Fletcher nodded and transformed into a pegasus before taking off and fetching the puffy white mass. He brought it back and set it in place before his Master.

Dizzy nodded his thanks. "Now, being a unicorn, I cannot interact with clouds, even when they're in reach..." He passed a forehoof through the cloud to illustrate his point. "I can't touch it, I can't move it. If I tried to land on it I'd fall right through it. This we know. The same goes for almost everyone who isn't a pegasus." Dizzy gestured to the top of the cloud, inviting Fletcher to hop up and take a seat on the floating cotton ball. "Now, since pegasi and griffons, and the like, are the exception, it can be said that the natural law regarding clouds is that they are objects that exist, but can't be interacted with." Dizzy gave his usual teacher's smile. "How is it then, do you think, that pegasi are able to fully interact with these basically intangible things as though they were solid objects?"

Fletcher looked down at his hooves and the cloud he sat on, considering the question. He blinked. How was he doing this? In his mind, he looked through the race's genetic code for differences.

Feathered appendages.

Hollow bones, reinforced by trabeculae.

Eyes with very slight, yet still perceivable, advantage in focus range.

Ligaments with additional springiness and flexibility for better agility and impact dampening.

....

Wait a second... I know for a fact that pegasi have greater resilience to the cold, as well as electric shock, but there's nothing here biologically that explains that. Or the cloud thing for that matter. If they're not the product of biology, the only other possibility would be...

"Magic?" he guessed. Then he deadpanned. "Pegasi are just like Earth ponies, aren't they. They're using magic and they don't even realize it."

Dizzy gave a sage nod. "That's correct. As I've said in the past, most folks only attribute 'magic' with the arcane work of creatures like unicorns," he said. "In fact, if you told a pegasus, or any other void-walker, that they were technically using magic, they'd probably just shrug and say 'call it whatever you like'. As far as they're concerned, all we're doing is giving it a different name. It doesn't change anything with regards to what they do everyday. However, by understanding that what they're doing is actually a form of magic that's basically going untapped, it changes everything," Dizzy said.

Fletcher was grinning from ear to ear. The earth ponies have no idea what they're capable of. He couldn't wait to explore the untapped abilities hidden in the pegasi heritage.

"Clouds are one of the few instances of an object that has qualities of both the Physical realm, and the Void realm," Dizzy continued. Fletchers ears twitched with excitement as he listened. "The Physical realm basically encompasses the universe as you're familiar with it: creatures and objects take up a physical space, and quote-unquote natural laws have their respective effects on them. If two objects attempt to occupy the same space for example, they cause a collision.

"Now the Void realm is quite interesting. It overlaps the physical realm, in that everything has a... presence there, if you will, but the Void realm has its own set of laws. You can think of it as the ghost of the Physical realm," he explained before digging through his saddle bags. Finding what he was looking for, he pulled out a sack of marbles. He gestured towards Fletcher's cloud. "We can set that aside now, come join me back on terra firma," he said with a smile.

Fletcher cast the cloud away with a shove and dispelled his disguise as he returned to his spot on the ground, watching as Dizzy pulled out a marble and placed it on the ground in front of his right hoof.

"Observe..." He tapped the marble, causing it to roll across the ground to his left hoof. "This is what motion looks like in the Physical realm, an object moves from point A to point B over a period of time." He grasped the marble with his aura again and moved it back to a spot between the two points. "If we study the path we just saw, we can see that at each particular point in time, the marble has a particular position along the path," he explained as he moved the marble to various spots.

"Movement in the Void realm however, is very different..." the pony continued. He dumped out his bag of marbles and picked out several of the same color. Then he neatly placed them in a row where the path of the first marble had been. He gave Fletcher a devious smile. "Time... is not a factor."

Fletcher blinked. He looked down at the marbles, then back up at his Master. Things went from simple, to strange and complicated very quickly. "H-how does that work?" he asked.

"While a Physical object is in the Void realm, all movement happens in the same instant, and the object is in every position at the same time, until the object leaves," Dizzy explained.

Fletcher's eye began to twitch a little. He opened his mouth several times, but he couldn't even think of a good question.

Dizzy chuckled as he watched his Disciple's reaction. "A demonstration might be in order. Follow me."

Fletcher shook off the puzzlement and followed his Master with a giddy smile as the pony led him to a group of trees. It had been almost six months since he saw him use that incredible speed against the scorpion, and he'd been under the effects of neurotoxins at the time. Fletcher was determined not to miss a signal detail this time.

"Stand right here, please," Dizzy instructed.

Fletcher watched as the pony walked over to a tree a few strides to the right, loosely wrapped the end of a string around the crown of an acorn, and levitated it up the tree, resting it on top of a thick branch. Then he walked over to Fletcher and gave him the other end of the string, as well as the end of a second string. "Hold these, please," he said before walking the second string over to another tree that was an equal distance on Fletcher's left side, and did likewise with another acorn. Finally he walked over and took a seat a few strides in front of Fletcher such that the two of them and the acorns formed a diamond shape.

"Alright, in a moment you are going to pull those strings so the acorns fall at the same time. Given the distance between them, it’s fairly safe to say that one would have a difficult time trying to catch both of them before they hit the ground, right?"

Fletcher cast a glance at the acorns before returning his gaze to his instructor.

Dizzy smiled. "I think it's pretty easy to see where I'm going with this... just, try not to blink," he suggested.

Fletcher nodded eagerly, locked his gaze on the stallion, and prepared to pull at the signal. Dizzy gave him a nod and he gave the strings a sharp tug. As planned, the acorns were yanked off their perches simultaneously, and began plummeting toward the ground. They were about four feet off the ground now, but Dizzy still hadn’t even moved. Three feet. Two feet. One. 10 inches. 8 inches. 6--

Bzzt

Suddenly, Dizzy appeared where the left acorn was falling, with not one, but two acorns dangling from his teeth.

Fletcher was astonished. He hadn’t even blinked and he still didn’t see any movement. The pony was there, and then he simply wasn’t there… but somewhere else. Wait… no, Fletcher thought as his mind finally caught up with what just happened. There was a small anomaly just before he disappeared. He… vibrated. No… There were duplicate images of him, all in different colors, flickering around the space where he was standing, like he was rapidly teleporting in place, offset each time by a few millimeters.

Fletcher saw a familiar trail of multicolored after images tracing a ‘path’ of actions he never saw the pony take. Dizzy galloped to where the acorn on the right had fallen, snatched something out of the air about 6 inches from the ground, then ran over to the left acorn and ended where Dizzy was now standing. Looking down at the ground, Fletcher blinked and shook his head before checking again. There were hoof prints!

Dizzy chuckled as Fletcher rubbed his eyes. “So… what, if anything, did you manage to glean from that?” he asked his apprentice.

Fletcher cleared his throat while he tried to compile his observations. “Well… visually it seems very similar to teleporting, but along with not producing any mana disturbance, there’s also no flash. There’s more of a quick buzzing sound rather than the typical burst noise. You also moved to two different locations, but unlike with teleporting, you didn’t actually appear and disappear again when you grabbed the first acorn. You just… had it when you appeared here.”

Dizzy nodded and opened his mouth to speak, but Fletcher continued. “Then, after you appeared, there was this delayed after image that ‘followed’ you and indicates the path you’ve supposedly taken…”

Dizzy raised a brow in surprise. He can see them? I didn’t think changelings were void-walkers… no, he turned into a pegasus when he fetched the cloud… How strange. Well, they are one of her’s I suppose… perhaps they lost the other traits in the tainting...

“...and now, somehow, there’s also hoof prints in the dirt,” Fletcher said as Dizzy tuned back in. “Does void magic freeze time somehow?”

Dizzy smiled and shook his head. “Not quite, no,” he answered. “It may seem like it though, because to move like this I’m entering the Void realm, moving, then leaving it again, and that only lasts for a pinpoint moment. Like I mentioned before, while a Physical being is in the Void realm, nothing they do takes any time,” he said. “Those apparitions you saw are a phenomenon that occurs when the two realms make contact. The Void realm has no time, so everything I did happened at the same instant, but the Physical realm, for lack of a simpler way to explain it, has a hard time accepting that, and because I’m a Physical being moving in the Void realm, you end up seeing what I did procedurally as if there was time. Not everyone can see the after images though, myself included.”

Fletcher pondered what had been said for a moment, then asked, “So then, could you travel anywhere in the world in an instant? What happens if you don’t leave the Void realm?”

Dizzy chuckled. “Trust me, you’ll always leave the void realm. This brings us to the limits of using this technique. You see, the Void realm is not a friendly place to Physical beings. Just being there is very taxing on the body, so when one enters the realm they strive to make their movements as minimal as possible. Every movement to be done in the Void realm should be planned out completely and with full detail before entering. You do not want to be making decisions while you’re in there. It makes using the technique rather tricky, and using it safely and effectively takes a lot of mental work.”

A small smile appeared on Fletcher’s muzzle. I think I’m going to like this.

“So what’s first, Master?” he asked with excitement, but it soon dropped when he felt a trickle of pity and trepidation coming the stallion. Now he wasn’t so sure if he was going to like this.

“Today I’m going to expose you to the Void realm. Then the next few weeks will be dedicated to building up your tolerance until you’re able to begin exercises in actually moving,” he answered with a stoic face.

Fletcher’s ears fell. It’s going to be weeks before I’m even able to move? The Void realm was beginning to sound like a scary place.

Dizzy stepped up beside him, bid him to sit down and gently rearranged his stance. Then he sat down beside him and rested a fetlock over his shoulder. “Hold as still as possible. Make the conscious decision that from beginning to end, you are not going to move, and when I say so, hold your breath. Are you ready?”

Fletcher was sweating, but he nodded his head.

Dizzy looked back towards the camp, picked up a small barrel of apples with his aura, dumped them out onto his blanket, and brought the barrel over beside them. Fletcher raised his brow, but before he could ask, Dizzy gave the signal, “Now.”

Fletcher tensed and held his breath, just before his ears were assaulted by what sounded like a ghostly shout, followed by chaotic, rushing winds. Everything looked darker, less vibrant, and slightly transparent. There was also a lot more occlusion. Fletcher couldn’t see anything past five meters or so, and the sky was dark and empty. All of this information was secondary in his mind, however, to the stinging sensation that was racking his whole body. It felt like hours, but it was all over in an instant. With another ghostly shout, the rushing sound was gone and the world was back in all it’s vibrant, sunny glory. Fletcher couldn’t appreciate it however, because he felt his insides lurch. He desperately grabbed the barrel Dizzy had ready for him and violently heaved.

Dizzy just sat next to him and rubbed his back as the poor changeling heaved several more times. After the worst was over he helped him wobble back over to the camp, and laid him down on his makeshift pillow. He placed a bowl of water before him and fed him a little by focusing on his pride in the changeling. “That’s all for today, Wildcard. Well done. You now stand at the base of the summit,” he said as he settled down on the other side of the fire pit. “One I will see you conquer.”

Fletcher raised his muzzle from the bowl, panting. “Of course, Master,” he huffed before rolling over in exhaustion. “...but not yet."

--------------------**:**--------------------

Dizzy was walking down the streets of town, picking up fresh supplies. He was passing by a cafe when he overheard a couple of mares.

“Did you hear what happened in Canterlot?” a mare asked her friend.

“No, what happened?”

“Here. It’s in the paper. A bunch of freaky bug monsters impersonated Princess Cadence and tried to take over the castle! Apparently they almost did it!”

Dizzy’s ear twitched.

“What?! How in the world could they manage that?” the other mare scoffed.

“The monsters can transform. They captured the Princess, and then their Queen turned into an exact copy of her!”

“That’s freaky!”

“I know, right? Princess Luna didn’t know Cadance very well so it’s understandable, but even Princess Celestia was completely fooled! And the Queen sucked so much power from them, she almost won!”

“Let me see that!” Dizzy blurted out as he ran over to their table. “Beg your pardon, Dearie,” he implored as he snatched the newspaper from the wide-eyed mare. His eyes scoured the article as he frantically flipped through the pages. “Oh no... No.. No! Those fools!” he growled, causing the mares to flinch.

The stallion let out a heavy sigh. They’ve ruined it for all of them.

The mares were about to say something, when he suddenly gasped. “Wildcard!”

He slapped a pair of bits on the mares’ table. “Apologies Ladies, but I need to take this. Here’s two for your trouble, Miss,” he said as he folded the newspaper and tucked it into his saddle bags, then he took off down the street.

The mares watched him leave for a moment before sharing a look.

“What was that about?”

-----------------------------------------

Dizzy found Fletcher back at their campsite, and to his concern, he was in his natural form.

"Welcome back, Master," Fletcher greeted as he monitored the bubbling stew he was making for him. "I had a successful integration venture by myself this morning, including positive interactions with 42 ponies," he beamed. “The first was the most apprehensive, as usual, but I asked her to introduce me to others, like you said, and once she saw me interact with the first three ponies, I’d pretty much won her over. From there it went as smoothly as the ventures when I have you there with me. She was pretty well known in town, and her credibility helped alleviate any more apprehension. How did your supply run go? Did you find everything you wanted?"

Dizzy’s expression had turned grim. He glanced around for any signs of ponies approaching. "I have some bad news, Wildcard. You should probably put on a disguise and take a look at this," he advised before tossing the paper down in front of him.

Fletcher gave him a confused look, but as usual, he complied obediently. After switching to his usual pegasus disguise he'd come to call Urban Myth, he pawed at the paper to flatten the corners out. His eyes went wide when he read the headline.

Canterlot Attacked by Swarm of Shapeshifting Imposters!

"WHAT?!" he yelled furiously.

Of all the tactically foolish things a changeling could do, risking the chance of the Equestrian Royalty discovering their existence was right up there with strolling into a dragon's mouth... with a rope dragging every other changeling along with you!

I swear, if this was your doing, Atlas... he seethed internally as he read on.

Our nation's capital was attacked during Princess Cadance’s royal visit to Canterlot yesterday by hundreds of horrifying monsters never before seen in Equestria. The creatures, later determined to be called changelings, have the ability to shapeshift into anypony they see fit. They use their disguises to get close and suck out the souls of ponies with their nasty fangs.

“This isn’t even accurate!” Fletcher growled indignantly.

The changelings ambushed the Royal guard escort while they were enroute to Canterlot, and the evil Queen Chrysalis captured and impersonated our beloved Princess of Love.

Fletcher sighed. You're lucky Atlas.

Incredibly, the changelings' disguises managed to fool everypony, including Princess Celestia herself, who is said to consider Princess Cadance like a daughter! Over the course of a week, Queen Chrysalis managed to drain enough power from Princess Celestia that she was actually able to overpower her in a challenge for the throne. With Princess Celestia incapacitated, and the recently reformed Princess Luna still recovering her magic, the future of Equestria looked bleak.

But right in the nick of time, the real Princess Cadance arrived with her liberators, the Elements of Harmony! Young Twilight Sparkle, the Element of Magic and Personal Student of Princess Celestia, and her baby brother Shining Armor were regularly babysat by Princess Cadance when they were little. Sparkle noticed something was off about the would-be Princess of Love. and because the evil Queen failed to do her research on the Princess' relationship with the young unicorn, her entire invasion plot was shaken up.

"She tried to impersonate ROYALTY and didn't do a thorough intel investigation!?..."

Dizzy was slightly taken aback, seeing his disciple frustrated to the point where he struggled to express himself with one voice alone. Multiple voices echoed from the changeling, all spitting different expletives and spiteful terms synonymous with the foolishness of this individual. "Do you know this Queen?" Dizzy asked.

Fletcher huffed, trying to let some of his frustration go. "Thankfully no, but judging by the pictures, it looks like she and her hive are Chickery changelings, which might explain their stupidly rash move," he scoffed.

"Oh? How so?" Dizzy asked curiously.

Fletcher pointed to the picture. "Chickeries are one of the only breeds that don't use broodmares and stud stallions. The Queen lays every egg herself, whether she has acquired seed or not. Since it's 'not' in most cases, the drones she lays end up only slightly better than mindless golems that follow her every order."

Dizzy raised a brow. "Not to sound mean, but how is that different from the drones in your hive? The one changeling that didn't follow orders got cast out."

"R-right," Fletcher muttered awkwardly, "orders are always absolute, but the difference is most Queens have intelligent drones with actual brains in their heads to consult and counsel with before giving said orders. Queen Chrysa-dufus here probably didn't have anyone to tell her what a stupid plan this was," he scoffed as he gestured angrily at the paper. With a sigh he continued reading.

Armed with the Elements of Harmony, Sparkle and her friends revived Princess Celestia and gave her the strength to cast a selective repulsion spell. With the help of Princesses Cadence and Luna, the spell was amplified enough to banish the entire colony far away from the capital city!

The monsters' invasion attempt has been thwarted, but changelings still pose a threat to public safety. Citizens are advised to verify the identities of friends and loved ones and establish a code or signal for verifying each other in the future. Citizens should also be on the lookout and report any suspicious activity to the Royal Guard.

Fletcher shook his head. "Those...idiots," he growled through clenched teeth.

Dizzy's expression was condoling as he stepped forward and placed a hoof on his disciple's shoulder. “I’m sorry, Mate. It seems we'll have to lay low on our integration initiative for quite some time. Ponies will know what a changeling is now, and their impressions of you wont be positive.” He sighed. “We’d best pack up and get going, before any of the ponies you met in town get word of this.”

Fletcher let out a defeated huff, before nodding in resignation. The future of pony/changeling relations would be forever damaged now.

--------------------**:**---------------------

“This the place?” Dizzy asked as he joined his apprentice in front of a casino.

The covert changeling nodded.

“How many are there?”

Fletcher scowled. “They’ve got 12 mares. They’re holding them two floors below, locked in individual rooms,” he muttered through clenched teeth.

Dizzy nodded. “I did some digging. Our boy goes by the name of Biggie Deal, shortened from Biggardi. He owns three of these casinos, making him one of the more clever diamond dogs I’ve come across.”

Fletcher turned to his Master with a restless fire in his eyes. “This is killing me, Master! I’ve been sensing their pain and despair ever since we got here! Six of them have ‘visitors’ even as we speak! Why won’t you let me liberate them?!”

“Because, we need to do this right,” the pony replied stoically. “If you just burst in there, busting traffickers and smashing locks like you want to, we won’t be able to prove that he’s been forcing those fillies into this. He likely has their loved ones under threat, so we wouldn’t be able to get them to testify. The only reason we know they’re being held against their will is because of your ability, and we won’t be able to use that without blabbing your secret directly to the authorities,” he explained.

Steam puffed from Fletcher’s nostrils as he huffed in resentful acceptance. “The diamond dog I can understand, but how could stallions do such a thing? Ponies are usually so good to one another… I don’t get it,” he seethed.

Dizzy sighed. “They don’t call this place Sin City for nothing, Mate.” He looked up at the casino with a dangerous look. “Make no mistake, Wildcard, not only will we free those poor girls, but we’re going to do it making certain that Biggie can’t bounce back again. We’re going to make sure that scoundrel pays dearly for this,” he promised. “Here’s the plan...”

-----------------------------------------

Biggie Deal looked up from his desk and saw outside his office windows that one of his employees was escorting a white unicorn stallion with a yellow mane toward him. The stallion was wearing a pristine, white satin suit, dark, gradient tinted sunglasses, and he was carrying a large briefcase in his magic. The diamond dog entered his boss’s office and briefly closed the door behind him.

“A Mister Lemon Zerga to see you, Sir.”

Biggie raised an amused brow. “High bidder?” he asked with a low mutter, his code for a big spender.

“Very much so, Sir.”

Biggie’s ears twitched. He stood up gracefully and buttoned up his suit coat as he strode to the door. As he stepped outside, the pony looked up.

“Ah, Mister Deel. Your reputation precedes you. Your casino is v’ry beautiful,” the stallion greeted with a thick, musky accent. “My name... is Laymon Zerga.”

Biggie opened his arms in a welcoming gesture. “The pleasure is all mine, Lemon Zerga, Sir. Welcome to the Emerald. Would you like me to set you up with some chips?”

The pony shook his head. “Ehhh, not tonight, thenkyou. No, I am rather looking to enjoy your… other entertainment,” he said, raising his eyebrows suggestively. “I am told this is the right place, yes?”

Biggie rubbed his paws together and grinned. “But of course, Mr. Zerga. We have many delectable dishes to choose from. What will your pleasure be this evening? Prench? Bitalian? The exotic ‘Black and White’, perhaps?”

Behind Zerga’s sunglasses, there was the smallest glimmer of an eye twitch, but Biggie Deal would receive no sign of the danger he was in, or of the terrible beast that lay in wait to rip him apart.

“No,” the pony answered stoutly, causing the diamond dogs to flinch in surprise. He laid his briefcase down flat and placed his hoof over it. “I wish to sample from the entire buffet…” Zerga pulled the briefcase open, revealing perfect bundles of crisp, new bills. “...‘all you can eat’, yes?”

Unable to take his own eyes off the money, Biggie had to feel around a bit before he could find his employee’s dropped jaw and push it back up. Finally shaking his head, he regained a semblance of composure. “My, my. You certainly have a large appetite, Mr. Zerga.”

“It has been a long day of traveling. After I have had my fill, I will require many… pillows upon which to lay my weary head,” Zerga replied with a grin.

A sly smile formed on Biggie’s muzzle. “But of course.” He leaned over to his employee and muttered, “Escort Mr. Zerga to the guest lounge and prepare his room. Do not make him wait long.”

“And the other guests, Sir?”

“Dismiss them. If Mr. Zerga want’s the whole buffet, he’s going to get every crumb, is that clear?”

The diamond dog nodded. “Understood, Sir.” He then gestured down the hall. “Right this way, Mr. Zerga, Sir. If you’ll kindly follow me.”

As his employee led his most important customer of the night down the hall, Biggie closed up the case and hid his prize in his office under his desk.

Just as he tried to return to his work, another employee came into his office. After a huff of exasperation, he addressed him. “Yes?”

“Sir, it appears as though Lady Luck has chosen another Champion this evening. There’s a stallion at the roulette table. He started from a single bit, and has won his way above $20,000… on more than one occasion.”

Biggie gestured for him to continue.

“He always bets all-in, save for his one bit principle. He’s lost it all three times now, but every single time he’s managed to come back up from that single bit. He’s gotten as high as $50,000, Sir,” he added.

“Have the magic detectors gone off?” Biggie asked.

The diamond dog shook his head. “No Sir. As far as we can tell, he’s an earth pony--”

“As far as you can tell?” Biggie asked with a raised brow.

“Well, there’s a chance of course that he could be hiding wings under his cloak, but he’s certainly not hiding a horn, Sir. Irregardless, the detectors haven’t gone off, so we’ve no reason to suspect magic. That, and he does lose occasionally, but we still thought you might like to know about it, Sir,” the dog finished with a bow of his head.

“Thank you,” Biggie said as he stood and buttoned his coat up again. “Lead the way.”

The owner followed his employee out onto the casino floor and up to the edge of a large crowd that had formed around one of the roulette tables. He leaned over to his employee’s ear. “Does our Nemesis’ Champion have a name?”

“A Mister Dizzy Spell, Sir.”

“Very good, thank you,” Biggie dismissed him. Then he plastered on his winning smile and made his way through the crowd. “Well, well! Looks like we’ve got a hot table over here! Is everypony feeling lucky?” he projected charismatically. The crowd responded with cheers.

At the center of the crowd, Biggie found a blue stallion with a black hat and cloak sitting with piles of chips in front of him. There had to be more than $60,000 worth. Whether he was lucky or cheating, Biggie had to get this guy off his streak before he won any more. To Biggie’s surprise, however, the pony addressed him first.

“Ah, Mr. Deal. I was hoping to get your attention at some point tonight,” the stallion said. He was leaning casually against the table. “I’d like to speak with you about a prospective business deal.”

Biggie lifted an eyebrow with intrigue. “Is that right? Shall we have one of my boys cash your winnings for you and retire to my lounge, then?” he offered with a gesture.

The stallion gave a confident grin. “Sounds like... a plan.”

-----------------------------------------

“Mr. Zerga, Sir, your accommodations are ready,” the diamond dog said after poking his head into the guest lounge.

“V’ry good,” the stallion responded. He stood and followed the dog down the hall to an elevator, which brought them down two floors. The hallways down here were still beautifully decorated, but the lighting was dimmer, and the atmosphere was far quieter than the bustling casino above. The dog lead Zerga down to the end of the hall, where an ornate door with a golden handle awaited. The diamond dog stood next to the door and bowed, displaying the key to him with his paws.

“I trust there will be no interruptions until morning?” Zerga asked with a stern tone.

“But of course, Sir. Not unless you request something. Please, enjoy your… meal,” the dog finished with a sickening smile.

Zerga nodded stoically and stepped inside. He slowly closed the door behind him and locked it.
Fletcher let out an exasperated sigh. Finally. It had been incredibly difficult to restrain himself from strangling those infernal mutts... but that would have to wait.

The room was luxurious as expected. There was even a mini kitchen. But all that Fletcher was concerned with, was the line of mares laid out on two combined King-sized beds. Although Fletcher felt their fear spike when he entered the room, they showed no signs of movement. He rushed over to the side of the bed and waved a hoof before the first mare’s face, but her eyes were glazed over and she seemed to stare right through it. When he placed his hoof on her barrel to check her vitals however, her panic levels went through the roof, yet her cries of alarm only came out as a soft moan. Her best resistance, a feeble flex of her muscles, until they gave out and went limp again.

Just as Master suspected, they’ve been sedated, Fletcher thought angrily.

“Shh shh shh, it’s alright,” he cooed. “I’m not going to hurt you. I’m going to get you out of here.” His horn came to life as he summoned the glasses from the kitchen’s cabinets, and ran the water cold.

Looking down at the mare’s neck, he scowled. All the mares were bound in thick, metal collars, and chained to a bar running along the base of the headboard. He tried to focus his magic on the lock, but the moment he did, he felt it absorb the mana. An anti-magic lock.

Guess they aren’t taking any chances. He looked up and down the line of mares and, seeing that they were all in the same state, set his hooves upon the sides of the first mare’s collar.

All possible witnesses are incoherent. Release restrictions to level one.

Fletcher closed his eyes and focused. He let out a slow, steady breath as his essence reached into, and explored the form of the collar. He was about to target the tumblers in the lock, when he noticed an even easier weakness he could exploit. The collar was built, such that the hinge was concealed from the outside, but whoever designed it hadn’t anticipated tampering from the inside. The collar began to get a little warm as he caused the hinge to vibrate at high frequency, until the hinge pin crawled right out of its place. With the hinge disengaged, Fletcher cracked the collar open and cast it away.

Fletcher cradled the mare in his forelegs and propped her up, despite her delirious moans of protest. Such a strange and terrible state their minds seemed to be in. Judging by their fear, their minds were clear enough to know the terrible things that had happened to them. They were expecting more of the same, but their senses were too dulled to give them sufficient visual or auditory information, their muscles too placid to obey commands. Fletcher sat on the bed and laid the mare up against himself.

It was clear that they were too incoherent to comprehend words, but the mare had responded to touch, so he tried to convey reassurance that way. Certain she was used to aggressive handling and grabbing, he hoped a gentle touch would send a different message. He rubbed her neck where the collar had matted her fur, and he felt a pause in her signature. One of her forelegs flexed for a second. Fletcher smiled and lifted the hoof for her and helped her feel her own neck. Now her signature was filling with confusion, so Fletcher summoned one of the folded blankets at the foot of the bed. He draped it over the mare’s lower body and tucked it around her ribs.

“It’s alright, Luv. Nopony’s going to do anything to you tonight.” he said warmly.

Did I just call her ‘Luv’? He thought with a blanch. You’re rubbing off on me too much, Master.

Relief flooded into her emotional presence at a growing rate. As a full glass of water levitated over to them, Fletcher wet the tip of his hoof and touched her lips. Upon feeling the sensation of moisture, the mare licked her lips, her tongue meekly searching for more. Fletcher tipped the glass to her lips, her meager sips gradually evolving to hungry gulps as the cool liquid slowly rejuvenated her. As she finished, Fletcher swapped the glass out with another full one and let her have her fill.

He pulled a small case out of his suit and opened it. Then, as he put the second glass aside, he tapped the mare’s lips.

“I’m going to need a little assistance to help me help you,” he muttered despite her incoherence. Another tap on the lips and the message seemed to get across as the mare opened her mouth slightly. Fletcher unwrapped a swab from the case and quickly stroked the inside of her cheeks. He sealed the swab in a tube and gently lowered the mare back down on her pillow, draping the blanket over her and tucking her in to let her sleep off whatever they drugged her with. All the trepidation and panic had been chased out of her signature and replaced with peace as he gently stroked her mane.

One down…

Fletcher put his hoof on the rod that all the other mares were chained to and went along one by one, pushing out their hinge pins with his essence. He knew his master probably could have done them all at once, but his skills weren’t quite refined enough yet to spread his essence out that much.

Someday, he thought with determination.

He broke off each of the mare’s collars, gave them water, and took a sample from them. Having tucked them in, he left the room and closed the door. Sensing no presences in the halls, he reverted to his true form, the silk suit reverting back to the saddle blanket he had used. Opening his mouth and unfurling his tongue, he dribbled out a bit of plasma onto his hoof, then he used his magic to levitate it into the door’s keyhole, flooded the lock, and solidified it.

You’ll be safe, till Master and I come back for you.

-----------------------------------------

“So, Mister… Spell was it?” Biggie asked as he led the pony into the lounge area in front of his office. The pony turned in circles as he followed, taking in the lavish decorum of the room. Like every other room in the casino, the walls were draped in green velvet, but in this room they were accentuated with gold leaf designs. The ceiling was supported by marble columns, and every edge around the room was embellished with beautiful mahogany crown molding and baseboards. On each side of the room were rows of jade pots filled with flowers that had a beautiful gradient from pale blue in the center, to dark pink at the petal tips.

“That’s correct,” the stallion answered. “Ah, are these plumerias?” he asked as he stepped up to one of the pots and smelled the flowers.

"Mhm. Pleasant, aren't they?" Biggie replied, watching the pony closely. "Please be sure not to eat any of them. They're strictly decorative."

Dizzy chuckled and shook his head. "I wouldn't dream of it," he waved him off. "Though they do smell deliciously refreshing," he added before taking a seat in one of the luxurious lounge chairs across from Biggie. The pony let out a contented sigh as he settled into the chair and laid the case containing his winnings by his side.

The Diamond dog folded his paws and regarded his guest with a calculating gaze. "So then, Mr. Spell, you have my undivided attention. What is it you'd like to talk about?"

"Well, I know you have many of your own business ventures, including 3 casinos, a cider brewery, and a cart company," Dizzy listed off, "but those aren't the only golden cows on your ranch, are they?" he added with a grin. “At least not according to word on the street.”

Biggie raised a cautious brow. "You've certainly done your research, Mr. Spell.” He paused a moment, studying his guest before proceeding. “I have many assets spread about that reel in the green for me, yes,” he confirmed. “Brothels are not illegal in this city. There is a demand, so a good opportunist provides a supply," he answered with a shrug.

"Ah Yes. Legalized at that unfortunate time when cases of rape were at an all time high. I remember,” Dizzy said with a nod. “One must take advantage of such a… lucrative opportunity... assuming those under your employ are participating of their own free will, surely?"

"But of course. They take pride in taking good care of our guests," Biggie replied confidently. Any hint that he was lying through his teeth was skillfully hidden.

"Of course, of course," Dizzy muttered through a fake smile. "Well at any rate, I came because I wondered if perhaps you were interested in becoming a venture capitalist for somepony else's business venture?"

Biggie leaned forward, resting his chin on his folded paws. "I'm listening," he said. "What is it that you're thinking of doing?"

"Delicacy candies and treats, made using exotic fruits and flowers from around the world," the stallion replied.

Biggie raised a curious brow. "Interesting. You make candy from flowers?"

"Oh, yes. Take your plumerias for example," Dizzy said as he gestured to the flowers. "Plumerias come in such a wonderful variety of colors and inviting scents, such as honeysuckle, citrus, grapes, ginger, coconut, peach, and many more. Actually, speaking of plumerias, did you know that there is a very rare flower that looks very similar to them but smells deliciously of vanilla and mint... much like yours actually?" Dizzy asked pointedly.

For just a brief moment, Biggie's eye twitched. "You don't say?"

"Indeed. It's called Temptress' Quagmire, because it smells so inviting but it actually harbours optical, auditory, and neuromuscular blocking drugs, which render you paralysed and unable to see or hear clearly. Quite a frightening trap, indeed."

Biggie shifted uncomfortably, but forced his practiced smile.

Dizzy continued with a fake laugh. "Actually, if you think about it, it's quite bold of someone that happens to be running a brothel to decorate the same building with flowers that look and smell so similar to such a dangerous plant… not that you’re using drugs on your... employees, of course."

Biggie's smile was fading.

"But of course, there are precious few that are aware that such a flower even exists, so if they really were Quagmires, displaying them in plain sight to be mistaken for plumerias would be the perfect way to keep one's unsavory practices concealed, now wouldn't it?" Dizzy finished with a knowing smirk.

The diamond dog glared at him through narrow eyes. "Who are you?" he seethed.

Just then, the door at the other side of the lounge creaked open and a white stallion walked in. Biggie Deal was on his feet immediately.

"Mister Zerga, Sir! I'm just with another guest at the moment, is there something that isn't to your liking?" he asked, a nervous bead of sweat forming on his forehead.

"Many things, Mr. Deal, but don't trouble yourself on my account," the stallion replied. "I got everything I needed."

Biggie's eyes widened. The stallion's foreign accent was completely gone. He watched in stunned silence as the pony he believed to be his best guest of the night, walked over to the other stallion and passed him what looked like a set of vials. Biggie's eyes narrowed as his teeth clenched in anger. A sting op! He'd been had!

"Ah, and here we find saliva samples from the 12 mares you claim are willingly under your employment," Dizzy said as he received the vials and tucked them away in his cloak. "I'm sure the forensics department of the Royal Guard won't find anything in here that would be at odds with that claim, correct?"

The Diamond dog was surprisingly calm as he adjusted his suit, sat down, and leaned back in his chair. "It’s true that a forensics test would show that my mares are on a medication, but that leans quite heavily on whether you manage to actually deliver such samples to the authorities,” he said darkly as he opened his chair’s armrest, pulled out a small bell, and rang it.

Dizzy simply smiled. “Biggardi Deal, in accordance with Equestrian law, I am hereby placing you under citizen’s arrest for the foal-napping and trafficking of ponies--”

“And a Zebra,” Fletcher coughed out beside him.

“...and ask that you cooperate until the proper authorities arrive. If you resist…” he continued, as he shot Fletcher a wink, “...the Equestrian Crown permits us the use of force.”

“Force.” The diamond dog snorted out a laugh. “That’s cute,” he muttered, as six diamond dogs took their places at his sides. Then the floor shook as a burly minotaur bounded in and stood behind Biggie’s chair. He folded his arms with a menacing glare as steam puffed out of his nostrils.

“Well, I would say it’s been fun...” Biggie said with a scowl as he stood up and buttoned his suit, “but it hasn’t. I’ll be taking my leave now, Gentlecolts. Enjoy your stay at the hospital.”

The diamond dogs cracked their knuckles as Biggie retrieved the case of money from his office and left out the back.

Dizzy ignored them and calmly stood up from his chair. “Looks like you’re up, Wildcard. Be sure not to over do it. The Royal Guard will take issue with us if they feel we were too excessive,” he said as he headed for the door.

Fletcher sighed in disappointment, causing the bodyguards to raise their brows.

“I’m going to take these samples over to the station and fetch the authorities,” Dizzy continued, “though I’ll be sure to… take my time,” he said as he headed for the door to the casino floor.

One of the dogs attempted to pursue the pony, but the small glass vase that had been on the coffee table moments before, whipped past his muzzle and crashed into the wall behind him. He glared at Fletcher with a growl.

Just before Dizzy left the room, he poked his head back in. “Oh, and Wildcard?… restrictions released to level three.”

Fletcher’s eyes widened. Then his expression melted into a wolfish grin. “You spoil me, Master.”

…

Time crawled to a halt as Fletcher visualised his opponents in the darkness of his mind.

Minotaur: bipedal bovine with a muscular upper body, opposable digits, and sharp horns. Primary weakness: lower body.

Diamond dogs: bipedal canine with claws, fangs, and a similarly top heavy frame. Typically follows pack mentality.
Primary weakness: sensitive hearing.

Injuries must appear to remain within the bounds of acceptable use of force. Mask attacks to internal tissues and organs with standard brawl strikes.

In his mind’s eye, Fletcher saw the minotaur flip the table at him.

First: Vanishing act.

Fletcher leaps off the floor and allows the table's broad surface to obscure him from view. Before it makes contact with him, he void walks behind the Minotaur.

Surprise party.

He gives the bull a jab to the left tarsal joint*, but uses his essence to redirect the blow to every muscle from hoof to buttock.

Smash the Pinata...

Then he strikes the right stifle joint*, redirecting the impact to the intestines and genitals.

...and bring it to the ground.

As the Minotaur doubles over, clutching his nether regions, Fletcher sweeps his legs out from under him, and the bull falls hard on his belly. Recovering from their confusion, the diamond dogs begin to charge him.

The mutts will attempt to rush and pin their target down. Subdue with dog whistle.

Fletcher releases an ultrasonic screech, stopping the dogs in their tracks, wincing and holding their ears.

Prepare ammunition.

Fletcher grabs the closest dog and punches it in the stomach, rebounding the impact within, from the liver to the lungs, and back to the diaphragm.

Carnival games.

He throws the diamond dog over his shoulder at two others.

Sleight of hoof.

Before the dog flies into them, Fletcher void walks behind them and touches their backs. Using the impact of their comrade colliding with them, and the inevitable crash with the wall they’d be having to mask his attack, Fletcher strikes them in various ligaments and organs to ensure they don’t get back up for a while. Then he returns to the position he threw the dog from, creating the illusion that he never moved.

Infuriated, the three remaining dogs charge him.

Merry-go-round.

As the first dog comes within range, Fletcher punches it in the stomach and flips it to the ground over his shoulder. Then he grabs it by the leg and releases an ultrasonic screech again. As the two remaining dogs stop to cover their ears, Fletcher swings his ‘weapon’ around like an olympic hammer thrower, knocking them all out with a bash to the skull.

The festivities are now over, please discard all trash in the proper receptacles on your way out.

…

Time resumed as Fletcher looked up at the group with a smirk. “You boys like carnivals, no?” he asked with his thick Lemon Zerga voice.

The guards growled and the minotaur kicked the table up at him. They watched the table fly to the end of the room and smash against the wall. The dogs moved to chase after it and drag the pony out of the wreckage, when they heard the minotaur beside them grunt in pain. The pony was behind him!

“How ‘bout megic shows?” he teased as he kicked the minotaur’s legs out from under him, bringing him to the ground with a heavy slam. Shaking away their astonishment, the diamond dogs attempted to surround and seize the pony, but they were stopped cold by a paralyzingly ear splitting screech. They winced and covered their ears as hard they could, trying to escape that horrible sound.

Fletcher ran up to the closest one, punched him in the stomach, and threw him at two other dogs, smashing the lot of them up against the wall.

With the sound no longer blaring in their ears, the final three charged him from the corners of the room. Fletcher received the first one with a shot to the stomach and flipped him over his shoulder to the ground. Then, as the other two closed in, he grabbed their companion by the leg and swung him around like a ball and chain, bashing his head into their skulls.

As the last of the guards fell in an unconscious heap, Fletcher dusted off his hooves. “And now to find something to bind you up with-- hurk!” Fletcher slapped a hoof to his muzzle. Eyes darting about, he located a trash bin and frantically ran for it.

Huuuuugh! Uuuuuugh!

Panting, he can’t help but feel a small pang of regret as he regarded the voided contents of his stomach. Much of it hadn’t even finished converting to plasma, but it still felt like an unfortunate waste.

Current tolerance to the Void realm is more limited than previously estimated. Consult with Master Spell about having conditioning sessions with released restrictions more often.

He wiped his muzzle and bound the guards’ wrists with their belts, or a chain in the minotaur’s case, and then ran after Biggie Deal.

--------------------------------------

The diamond dog had gotten a few blocks away in that time, but not far enough that Fletcher couldn’t track him.

Biggie slowed to a more casual pace as he tried to blend in with the crowds in the street. He looked around, and seeing no one pursuing him, he ducked into one of the alley ways.

“So you like screwing around with drugs do you?”

Biggie yelped and wheeled around to face the voice behind him, only to get a cloud of white powder blown in his face. He backed away coughing, and glared through his tears at the white pony that sabotaged his operation.

“What did you just-- Cough Cough*.” He straightened up as best he could, trying to keep his cool, and his distance. “So… you got away and left your buddy behind in order to chase me down, huh? Ha! Go ahead and arrest me if you can, Pal. Even if you manage to pull it off, I’ve got more than enough to post my own bail,” he gloated, dangling the case of money in front of him.

“You haven’t got enough money in that case to buy an apple,” Fletcher scoffed with a smirk.

Biggie’s eyes widened. He cracked open the case and his face paled. The illusion spell Dizzy helped Fletcher to cast had faded, revealing the bills’ true form as ‘buy-one-get-one-free’ coupons for flea and tick shampoo. The diamond dog bellowed in rage and threw the case at the pony before running down the alley.

Fletcher dodged the projectile and watched him run away with a sly grin. “Try not to wet those dapper looking slacks of yours…”

-----------------------------------------

Panting, Biggie looked back as he ran. Either he’d lost his pursuer, or blondy thought he was being clever and was trying to circle around to cut him off. Whatever the case, Biggie hung a left, making his way deeper into the dark network of back alleys. He growled through clenched teeth. He still couldn’t believe this was happening. He had nothing left! Those infernal ponies would rue the day they thought they could mess with Biggie Deal!

Biggie stopped suddenly as a cold chill ran up his spine. He thought he heard someone whisper something in the shadows.

“Foooooalnapperrrrrr…”

There is was again. An eerie whisper on the wind, but this time it came from somewhere else.

“Thieeeeeeef…”

“Slaaaaaverrrrrrr…”

“Defilerrrrrrr…”

More and more voices, coming from every direction. They sounded female. Biggie looked around frantically. They seemed to be getting closer.

“Mooooooonsterrrrrr…”

As Biggie turned back the way he came, he yelped in horror as he met face to face with a mare. He instantly recognised her as one of his products, but the terrifying difference was that her eyes were completely blackened out. Her mouth was oozing a sickening dark sludge, and she was burning! Ghostly green flames licked and tore through her mane and fur. Paralyzed with fear, all Biggie could do was quiver……... until it screamed.

“RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

To say that unholy sound could curdle blood was a horrible understatement. It was as if hundreds of tortured demons were trying to escape through her mouth! Biggie fell back screaming and covered his face…

...then there was silence.

After a long moment’s hesitation, Biggie finally peeked through his paws, only to find nothing there. The burning mare was gone.

Panting, he clutched his chest. It wasn’t a bluff. That blasted pony really drugged me! He shakily rose to his feet and took off with an unsteady run. Up ahead was another turn off. He winced as he approached, his imagination and fear running wild. Sure enough, he was met by the burning face of another mare he had foalnapped, and another hell wrenching scream. He covered his ears and ran as hard as he could.

Scream after scream, he was continually haunted by apparitions of the mares he enslaved.

“It’s not real. It’s not real!” Biggie told himself. “They’re just hallucinations! None of this is real!”

That’s when he slammed into something solid and fell back on his tail. He clutched his face till the pain subsided. He growled his annoyance at the wall he’d run into… until he heard it growl back. Shaking, he looked up to find that the wall he’d run into was in fact a massive manticore.

As out of place as a manticore in Los Pegasus would be, this one looked like it crawled out of the deepest depths of Tartarus! It looked like it was wearing its skeleton on the outside, and just like the mares, it was bathed in green flames. Its eyes were alight with furious green fire as well.

A deep, guttural voice thrummed from the beast’s throat. “Real or Not as we may be… the reality of your sins shall haunt you long after your body recovers from this, Biggardi Deal,” it threatened as it leaned a massive paw on the diamond dog’s legs and pressed its weight on them. Biggie screamed as his bones began to splinter and snap, until the pain racked his body to the point of fainting.

-----------------------------------------

Dizzy and Fletcher bumped hooves together as they watched the city guards drag Biggie and all his cronies away, the traumatized diamond dog rambling nonsense as the stretcher he was strapped and cuffed to was rolled into the carriage.

“...When I finally found him his legs were crushed under a large wine barrel. I think he must have caused it to drop on top of him when he ran into the delivery cart behind Green Dragon Pub,” Fletcher finished telling the Sergeant his story.

A satisfied grin appeared on the guard’s lips as he finished scribbling on his clipboard. “A well deserved dose of Karma, huh? Not even close to filling the scoundrel’s prescription in my opinion, but thankfully that’s what the court system is for.” He looked up at them with a pleased smile. “Very well done, Boys. Biggie’s been on our radar a long time for all sorts of shady stuff, but he was so meticulous with his tracks we couldn’t get anything on him. Never even realized he was trafficking. With the drug evidence you got us, the cornerstone of his whole conspiracy fortress has been plucked, and he’ll be going away for several lifetimes. The Crown thanks you both,” he said with a firm salute.

Dizzy gave a nod. “Thank you for your hard work, Sergeant Nimbus.”

As the guard trotted away, he turned and called back, “And thank you for seeing that those poor things get back home where they oughtta be. You’re goin’ above the call of duty, and it’s appreciated.”

Fletcher and Dizzy smiled and waved, when Dizzy noticed a white powder on his hoof. He looked to the hoof he’d just bumped it with and found it there too.

“Wildcard, what is this?” he asked curiously.

Fletcher snickered. “It’s corn starch. Biggie’s going to rant, rave, and insist that I drugged him with something, but they’re not going to find a thing in his system.”

Dizzy laughed. “Brilliant. I hope you gave him a good scare.”

“Oh, he’ll be having night terrors for years to come. I spent more than a month’s worth of limress to make sure of that,” Fletcher assured him.

“I see,” Dizzy said with a satisfied grin. “You must be exhausted then.”

Fletcher nodded, so Dizzy turned and led him into the hotel. Arriving at the penthouse suite, they found the mares lined up along the wall of glass that overlooked the city. They sat quietly with blankets around their shoulders, watching the activity below. They had come off the effects of the drug somewhat, after they had a chance to rest peacefully, and were given medicine to help flush out their systems.

Dizzy placed a hoof on Fletcher's shoulder as he addressed them, "Ladies, this is my apprentice, Fletcher. You have him to thank for tonight’s rescue. Without him we never would have known you were here, and Biggie Deal could have kept you hidden for years to come."

The mares shuddered at the thought.

"You see, Fletcher is not your typical pony," Dizzy continued. "In fact he's not actually a pony at all."

Ears perked up as his audience listened with new intent.

"He belongs to a race of beings that have empathic abilities. That is how he was able to find you. From the moment we entered the city, Fletcher knew how much you girls were hurting."
He laughed suddenly. "You have no idea how difficult it was to keep him from immediately storming the casino in a bloody rage to come and save you."

The mares looked at Fletcher with awe and a renewed sense of gratitude, while Fletcher blushed under the attention.

"The reason I'm telling you this, is because many ponies, in their ignorance, are associating Fletcher's kind solely with a terrible event that involved only a specific group of them. Fletcher and I are trying to show ponies that not all of them are the same. I ask you ladies to remember Fletcher and the tenderness with which he has treated you, as well as the fact that if it weren't for him being what he is, you would all still be trapped in the basement of that casino.

"However, if there are any among you who do not wish to remember the things you’ve gone through, we wouldn’t blame you. It just so happens, that Fletcher has a spell that can erase those memories for you, if you wish," he added.

Fletcher balked at the stallion as the mares turned to him with eager, almost desperate looks.

"It all depends on what you use it for, Mate," Dizzy whispered as he nodded towards the girls.

The changeling looked back and regarded the mares. Of course. He never would have imagined in a million years that anyone would want to have their mind altered. He never considered that it could be a blessing to someone.

Fletcher took a few steps toward the mares, but then he hesitated. He knelt down on the ground and said, "Before I begin, I... I need to revert to my true form... Ponies tend, especially these days, to have adverse reactions to my natural appearance... I... I promise it's still me--"

To Fletcher’s relief, Dizzy stepped up beside him and laid a foreleg around his withers.
"Ladies, after what's been said and what Fletcher has done for you, can we safely agree that there's nothing my apprentice here could turn into that would change your opinion, or take away your appreciation for him?" Dizzy asked.

The mares shared a few looks and nodded happily. Fletcher smiled, even though he could sense a little apprehension underneath the surface.

"Fletcher is called a changeling," Dizzy continued. "There was a hive led by a very zealous and foolish Queen that attempted to take over Canterlot. There are many hives and even different breeds of changelings, and right now they're all experiencing the consequences of one Queen's foolish actions. You Ladies have seen first hoof that Fletcher is not like those changelings."

With that, Dizzy nodded at his apprentice, and Fletcher dispelled his disguise. A few of the more squeamish mares let out a scream despite themselves, before they managed to clamp their muzzles shut. With sheepish expressions, they nodded to the changeling, promising to keep it together for his sake.

Fletcher returned a weak smile, electing to fold in his fangs for this group. He stood up and approached the mare at the left end of the line.

"Do you wish to forget all this?"

The mare nodded. Fletcher lit his horn and leaned in to touch her forehead, but she suddenly pushed a hoof against his chest.

"Wait... I owe it to you two to remember what you did for me. Don't take everything, just... the night they took me, and all those horrible moments in those rooms...I...I don't want to relive those," she whimpered as she almost broke down into sobbing. "I have to remember that this happened though. I'll never forgive those monsters for what they did to us, and I need to help ensure it never happens to anypony else."

Fletcher saw the other mares nodding. That seemed to be the consensus. He gave the mare a compassionate smile as he wrapped his hoof around and cradled the back of her head. "Of course."

"One more thing?" the mare continued. "Please don't take this moment either. I'm not sure what it will be like to have holes in my memory..... but it will be reassuring to know they're gone because you got rid of them for me."

Fletcher gave her a nod, and touched her forehead with his horn. He combed through her memories, wincing at some of the horrible things he witnessed, and destroying the plagues in question. His task complete, he pulled away. The other mares watched with eager anticipation as the mare experimentally tried to remember something she'd asked to have taken away. Her expression flooded with excitement and relief.

"Oh, thankyou!" she breathed as she threw her forelegs around his neck, much to the excitement of the other mares. "Thankyou so much."

Fletcher's dark cheeks brightened just a little. "It was my pleasure. I only wish we had been here sooner."

They broke their embrace and Fletcher made his way down the line. Even the mares that had screamed, and were still feeling somewhat skittish around him, had decided their desires to have their memories wiped outweighed the fear they had.

He finally made his way to the mare on the end, and was surprised to find that her presence lacked any sort of trepidation or apprehension whatsoever.

As he stepped up to her she gave him a big smile and started making strange gestures with her hooves. She pointed at him, drew a circle around her face, then rested a hoof on her crest and shook her head. She touched his chest plate and tapped on it with the timing of a heart beat and gestured to her smile. Next she pointed to his forehooves and then brought her own up to her face and rubbed her cheek on the back of her fetlock.

Fletcher blinked and raised a brow. At his confusion, the mare's expression turned doleful.

Perhaps she's handicapped in some way.

Fletcher sat down on his haunches and used his forelegs for a few sign language gestures.
"Are you by chance, deaf, or mute?" he asked.

The mare gasped, her face beaming with excitement. "Yes! Yes! " she responded with proper gestures this time. "I was born with underdeveloped vocal chords, so I'm mute... sadly."

"So you can hear me then?" Fletcher asked out loud.

She nodded happily. "I'm sorry about all that," she signed, referring to her behavior earlier. "I never thought you would understand me if I used sign language.” She paused and tilted her head. “I'm surprised you know it, actually. It's so rare to find anypony that's fluent these days."

Fletcher nodded. "Equestrian Sign Language is quite different from changeling hoof signals, but I'm fluent in the majority of languages on this side of the world," he explained.

The mare nodded with understanding. "I see. I was trying to tell you earlier that it doesn't matter to me what you look like, I know you have a kind heart and gentle hooves," she signed with another bright smile.

Dizzy stepped up to Fletcher's side. "What's she saying, Wildcard?"

Fletcher looked back to him and blushed a little as he translated her words.

The stallion smiled at her. "I'm glad to hear it," he said. "What's your name, Luv?"

She made a few gestures to Fletcher, who cringed in response.

"Really? I'm not much of an expert in pony names, but isn't that kind of mean of your parents to call you that?" he asked.

The mare shook her head vigorously. "This is who I am. I love my name," she signed, her smile ever present.

Dizzy bumped Fletcher with an elbow.

"Oh, right! Sorry! She says her name is Silent Night," he translated.

Dizzy smiled."How pretty. Where's home for you, Silent Night?" he asked.

"She says she's from Canterlot. She... " Fletcher choked on the words she told them. "She says... she believes the dogs targeted her because she wouldn't be able to scream... She says thank you for waking her up from that awful nightmare," he finished. Then he turned to her. "Here, let me take care of that for you."

He approached her and cradled the back of her head like he did with the others, but before he touched her head with his horn, he leaned in and whispered in her ear, "I apologise. Now that I’ve heard your name out loud, I think it's rather beautiful."

He touched her head and combed through her memories for her. When he pulled away, she lept up, threw her forelegs around his neck, and gave him a tight squeeze. Fletcher chuckled as his blush returned. "You're welcome."

Dizzy turned and addressed the mares again. "Right. Now that that's taken care of, Ladies, I've taken the liberty of booking the Golden Lion's penthouse suite for the week. We'll have you all rested up and pampered, then arrange your trips home, courtesy of Biggie Deal's roulette table!"

--------------------**:**---------------------

Fletcher woke in the early morning, just as the morning mist started to glow with the sunrise. With a big yawn, he stretched the stiffness out of his muscles, letting his blanket slide down his back. Suddenly his ears perked up.

Wait a second…

Master Spell wasn’t anywhere within sensing range. Fletcher’s eyes shot open and he frantically looked around. To his horror, not only was his Master not close by, but their camp was half cleared. Searching for an answer, his eyes eventually landed behind him.

There on his hind quarters, was Dizzy’s lavish tapestry blanket. Fletcher’s own blanket was gone, which meant Dizzy had evidently left the better one for him.

“Master… why?…” he could only whisper.

A breeze picked up and Fletcher could hear paper rustling. He looked over to see a note fluttering underneath a rock, as if it were calling for him. Fletcher grimaced. He had a feeling he wasn’t going to like what was on that paper. After a deep breath, he clasped the note in his magic and brought it over. His ears drooped as he read the first few lines.

Fletcher, my Dear Friend,
I can’t apologize enough for having to tell you this way, but I’m afraid we must part ways at this time. Something has come to my attention that urgently needs to be addressed. Unfortunately, I have to do so without your help. If you think ponies are taking unkindly to changelings these days, you really don’t want to meet the folks that live where I’m headed. I know you would be more than willing to follow me despite them, but your disguises won't fool them, and I’m not willing to give them the slightest opportunity to harm my Apprentice.

I have no doubt that it would take very little for you to track me down, Wildcard, which is why I must ask you to promise me that you will not make any attempt to follow me. This is important. In fact, since I won’t be there to hear it, I want you to promise yourself instead.

I know things will be difficult for you without me, but I have faith in you. You have the power and potential to change the world, for your kind and ours. I really mean that. Keep practicing the things I’ve taught you. You know what the conditions are for releasing your restrictions. You have the foundations sufficient to be able to advance on your own somewhat. But as always, don’t share these things with anyone. And never stop learning new talents, Mate. I don’t want to come back to find a stagnant Apprentice.

I’m afraid I must ask one more thing of you. I’m sure you will meet lots of new people on your adventures, but I want you to also promise me/yourself that you won’t tell anyone my name. It takes away the thrill of meeting new people when they’ve already heard of you. I know I can count on you, my friend.

I shall return to Equestria one day, and I’m certain we will meet again. Until then, may Faust keep a constant vigil over you in my stead.

Your loving Master and Friend,
Discerning Spell

Fletcher looked up from the letter to the sunrise, tears streaming down his good cheek.

“I shall do as you ask, Master... I promise,” he whispered. “Please… come back soon.”

---------------------**:**--------------------
Canterlot Castle, Present Time

Back in the throne room, Fletcher was drawn from the dark recesses of his mind by a gentle hoof raising his chin. He slowly opened his eyes, and was met by the soft expression of the Princess of the Night herself. He felt something coming from her. It felt like... sympathy?

Why?

He mentally shook it off. It didn’t matter. Once you’ve resigned yourself to execution, allowing anything to get your hopes up is just a bad idea.

“Princess? What are you doing, your Highness?” he asked wearily.

Luna cast her own lie detection spell over the changeling.

“Is it true what Captain Feather said about you?” she asked.

Fletcher blinked.

…

“F-forgive me, your Highness, but I wasn’t listening...”

Author's Notes:

(author’s note: to save you from looking it up, the tarsal is like the heel if you were to compare bow-legged creatures to a human standing on the ball of the foot)
(stifle is like the knee)

Yes, I put Epona in the list of names that Galaxia goes by. No, I did not take it from Zelda, despite my love for the series. Epona is the mythological goddess of horses. Where do you think Nintendo got it from?

Yay! Nopony died this time!

...Geeze, you make me sound so horrible...

So you're gonna take us back to the throne room next time right? With the filly?

Yes. It's finally time.

YAY!!!

Ahem.

Oh yeah! Don't forget to like, fav, and comment!

Atta girl.