It wasn’t long before David realised there was something wrong. He didn’t have any solid memories, simply impressions briefly sparking whilst he’d been disorientated. There’d been a series of bewildering flashes, a struggle, a wordless cry, then an awful droning sound that resembled the humming of a thousand throats in a disconcerting concerto.

If he didn’t know what being frightened to the core felt like, he did now.

Consciousness announced itself painfully to David. Despite several bleary blinks and a dogged shake of his head, the fuzzy, swirling fog in his mind refused to go away. He tried to reach up to touch his head… but immediately found himself bound and gagged. Panic came swiftly after that, before the realisation that he wouldn’t be able to escape his bonds settled in. He continued to struggle for a few more minutes, slowly coming to realise the futility of doing so. Finally, he sagged against the wall with a muffled gasp. He thought he should probably do more to get out of the dire situation he was in, but he didn’t know what to do past panicked struggling and desperate gasping.

Besides, the rope did more cutting than binding, and his sore wrists and ankles attested to the inefficacious nature of his stalwart efforts. He was trapped. There wasn’t anything he could do. He had tried almost everything.

“Mmmph!”

Well, now he had tried everything.

The idea that he was helpless filtered gradually through his head. At least he wasn’t blindfolded, and in the dark and damp chambers, his sluggish night vision was starting to make out small outlines. The light was dim, almost pitch black, but certain impressions filtered through the darkness, defining vague shadows and recesses. One was a small outline he thought he recognised.

“Mmmrann!”

The shadow didn’t shift, but the steady breathing indicated that it was alive, a small blessing in an increasingly dire situation. Despite the pain, David shifted himself closer to Rainbow, trying to slide along the floor as best as he could. Each movement sent shocks of pain from his wrists and ankles, but he gritted his teeth and pushed on best he could.

He almost managed to get to her when a slight scraping echoed in the small chamber. David glanced up to meet predatory slits, tinged malachite with barely concealed menace.

It hissed something to him and gestured angrily at Rainbow. Not understanding, David didn’t move. The creature growled and with lightning speed, darted forward, smacking David against the wall with a heavy blow, all the while chittering loudly.

“Mmmph!” David felt a sharp pain in his side as he crumpled. It clacked something at him, then a green tinge filled the cavern as it lit the surroundings with its… horn.

David almost wished he hadn’t opened his eyes. Sharp fangs glistened with green luminescence, a glossy black carapace surrounded its frame, and the legs… the legs were riddled with holes as if to complement its tattered wings. The creature opened its maw, revealing just how many of its sharp teeth it had at its disposal.

As David swallowed his fear, along with a little of his dignity, he began to wonder if Fate was maliciously responsible for his predicament, or if there was some higher power that really liked messing with him.

————————

“Gone?! What do you mean gone?!”

The stallion looked decidedly uncomfortable under the scrutiny of the glowering princess.

“W-We don’t know,” he stammered, “the human and your friend just disappeared into thin air.”

Twilight pulled back her impatient frustration a couple of notches. There was no use blaming the hospital staff. Somehow the human had escaped, and no doubt Rainbow had gone out looking for him. She gritted her teeth, mightily resisting the urge to pull out some of her mane. She gruffly thanked the nurse for his time and stomped down the hallway.

“Princess?”

Twilight recognised the voice immediately. She glanced up and saw the Wonderbolt beckoning her. “Soarin! Thank Celestia. Do you know where Rainbow went?”

At the rapid-fire questioning Soarin hesitated, but answered after a blink. “Rainbow Dash?” Soarin rubbed a hoof along his jaw. “Last I checked she was minding the human.”

“Oh no,” Twilight growled, “that’s bad, really bad!”

“Bad, how?” Soarin went from curious to concerned. “What’s going on, Princess?”

Twilight danced on her hooves. “You don’t understand, Princess Celestia was very interested in coming over and meeting this human! She’ll be here today and now he’s…” Twilight bit her lip, unwilling to voice it out loud.

Soarin raised an eyebrow. “He’s what?” Though his tone suggested he already knew.

“Gone!”

Soarin frowned, but remained surprisingly unconcerned. “Well we’ll just have to find him before then, Princess. So I take it he’s not in the hospital? We can search the area around and try and find out what’s happened to him.”

“I suppose so.” Twilight sighed. “I mean I thought of that, but in my panic I started forgetting the simple things.”

“He couldn’t have gone far, wasn’t Rainbow with him? I’m sure they’ll be fine, Recruit Dash hasn’t let us down yet,” Soarin said with a smile.

Twilight chuckled. “You’re right.” She took a couple more breaths and found that it helped. “I guess it’s still too new for me not to panic while trying to make a good first, second, third or nth good impressions.”

Soarin blinked but smiled bemusedly. “Good intentions,” he commented wryly, “often lead to poor consequences if you aren’t careful when you think it through.”

Twilight smiled at that, thinking back to Fluttershy and Philomena, ironically during the time when Princess Celestia also came to meet.

“You’re right,” she repeated, “but I’d still feel much more relaxed if I had the human here and not mysteriously missing.”

——————

Pinned to the wall, David couldn’t do much more than squirm against the firm weight of the horrifying abomination pressing down on him. Any moment now, David thought, he’d be eaten by that creature. He rather thought it would be a rotten way to go, being trapped on an alien world then just eaten.

Didn’t people like himself tend to go on grand adventures, or were those reserved for characters in fairy tale worlds without bloodthirsty critters that would eat you alive?

The creature licked its prodigious fangs and clamped down… on his gag. With a rough tug it removed his gag, then chittered. David didn’t react. The creature repeated the same sound. David blinked. A shrug, and then the creature undid the ropes at his wrists and ankles.

Was it possible that the creature was communicating with him?

The creature stared into his eyes with a penetrating look that made him feel naked while fully clothed. The creature then paused and cocked its head, as if considering something. In the dim light of its own horn, David could make out a tattered mane that framed its grotesque features.

Its horn glowed brighter once more and the thing chittered once more.

David yelped as a sudden pounding reverberated in his skull, as if a wild hog was playing football with his brain. Flashes of images flickered in and out of his vision and a soft sound murmured in the background.

“Wha—What the heck was that?!”

“Ah so you do speak.”

To say David was surprised was like saying Australians only mildly enjoy barbecues. All in all, for a human suddenly exposed to another sapient, communicable creature he did pretty well.

“Oh,” he said faintly. “English? I never would have expected that.”

The creature looked smug. “Oh please, I don’t know what this ‘English’ is that you speak of, but I am talking to you via a far more superior mode of communication.” Every time the creature spoke, its words were underscored by that faint droning sound. It was like a fly buzzing around near his ear. He glanced around, trying to pinpoint the source.

It guessed what he was thinking.

“No that’s not sound,” it hissed proudly. “You are hearing what we are all hearing, what we all share. That low buzzing is hunger, fear, confusion…” it licked its lips “All the delicious emotions that make up your delectable thought processes.”

David glanced at Rainbow and back to the creature, after a brief hesitation, he decided he would speak with it. Anything to delay being eaten. The references to his emotions as edible delicacies weren’t really helping either. “What are you?” He tried to keep his voice even but it came out weird and a little more high-pitched than he would have liked.

The creature studied him with a disconcerting stare. “Hmm, I would have thought a mythical being such as yourself would be more… impressive.”

David gulped, but tried not to let his confusion show. “Mythical?” he enunciated slowly. “I don’t understand, aren’t you the mythical being?”

A sudden rich laughter filled the room. “Oh how delightful! You believe that this world is fantasy? That we’re the ones not real?”

David reddened. “I didn’t go so far as to say that. You’re just putting words in my mouth.” He felt the blood drain from his face as it considered him as a carp would a worm. He swallowed thickly but managed not to break eye-contact.

The creature finally withdrew its glare, and David let go of a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. He slumped back against the wall feeling like a spectre had rattled through his bones.

“Hmm, being the creature you are, you probably know the value of your own life, which is why you tempt me so,” the creature muttered more to itself than David. He kept silent, feeling that it was wise to observe than risk another touchy rejoinder.

“So,” the creature continued in a salacious drawl. “A human falls into my hooves and with one of the Elements. What should I do, what should I do?” It trotted over to the other end of the cave, illuminating his new accommodations.

That complicates things.

On the other end were iron bars set into the cave stone. The creature ran a holed hoof along the bars striking each with a solid clink as it went along.

“You can’t escape, you know,” it told him as it came back. “And I happen to be well-versed in the mythology of humans. Fascinating stuff, but ‘ultimately useless’, or so I thought. Perhaps there is something to be said for esoteric knowledge lost in the throes of ancient pony culture?” It regarded him critically, then snorted. “There’s always a catch though, always a catch. Did you know that your blood holds the key to immortality?”

David’s shocked look said more than he ever could.

“I know!” the creature cackled. “You should see your expression, such delicious emotions!” For a moment, something primeval flashed in its eyes, but then it continued. “But there’s a trick.” She waggled a hoof in his direction. “An important annoying little trick.”

David swallowed thickly and replied, despite temporary misgivings. “And what is this trick?” he put forward tentatively.

The creature grinned viciously, sending chills racing down his spine. “For a moment I was worried that I would be speaking to the proverbial wall,” it murmured, then drifted closer. “I know it’s a bad habit, but I like to play with my food.”

David tracked it warily as it came closer. He swallowed once more, throwing the conversational dice. “You still haven’t told me what you are.”

Again, fangs and teeth flashed out. “If I told you, would you believe me?”

———————

She was supposed to stay in the hospital, but she had to go, despite him insisting she should remain inside.

“You should stay,” he said with a disapproving frown. “We haven’t found out what triggered your condition.”

“No time,” Twilight answered back. “I have to find the human before the Princess gets here.”

“Really,” he said. “I must insist. Actually some test results have come back that show—”

“Sorry, Doctor Stable, but I kind of wrote myself into a corner. I feel fine,” she assured him. “Don’t worry.”

The doctor looked torn but shook his head. “Alright, Princess,” he replied with a steady gaze. “Promise you’ll talk to me about this when you’re free from your duties?”

Twilight hesitated briefly but gave a nod of assent.

“Of course.”

————————

Twilight circled around the sky, her eyes scraping the floor in a way that suggested she would be perfectly fine if it were overturned while she did so. She swooped down and landed with enough force to cause the pavement below to crack. The small detail of debris flying around sending both Roseluck and Carrot Top stumbling back barely registered while she gritted her teeth and paced in an aggressive circle.

“Where is that human?” she growled, mostly to herself. “Of all the times to go missing, why now? Ugh, why do these things seem to always happen to me?”

“What’s a human?”

Twilight huffed in annoyance, still pacing in a tight circle. “It’s an infuriating creature with the propensity to cause me trouble and disappear from time to time.” She stopped and glared at the sky. “Princess Celestia will be here any minute now, and I still haven’t found him. I knew I should have just kept an eye on him after I wrote that letter!”

“Sounds dreadful! Anything I can do to help?”

Twilight sighed. “That’s very kind of you…” she turned around to thank the stranger, but trailed off when she recognised the streaming mane made of scintillating starlight, the friendly gaze rimmed with bright pink irises and her recognisable cutie mark that mirrored the light above them.

“Oh, hello Princess,” Twilight whispered faintly.

“Hello, Princess,” Celestia said in a tone that was somehow gentle and firm at the same time. “Twilight.”

Twilight amended herself uncomfortably. “Celestia.”

The princess smiled genially. “So, a human disappears, just as I arrive.” Her mouth twitched with thinly concealed amusement. “Reminds me of that griffin diplomat. Isn’t that right, Luna?”

Behind Celestia, Luna peeked around curiously. “Indeed,” she replied warmly. “After a private word with him, I convinced the wayward soul to stop snooping around the Equestrian archives. I suggested that such forays would result in more than just clipped wings.” She giggled. “Maybe a little lower?”

Celestia chuckled at Twilight’s aghast expression. “Oh Twilight, you must learn to relax a little. You’re not my student anymore.”

Twilight sighed. “I know, Princess. To be truthful, I still wanted to impress you.”

Luna laughed heartily, her smile a mile wide. “If you wanted to impress my sister, all you have to do is—”

“Luna,” Celestia growled.

Heedless, Luna continued. “—bake her a mud pie! Did you know that she thought chocolate used to come—”

“Luna.” Celestia’s countenance darkened considerably.

“—from soil? She tried eating…” Luna blinked as she finally realised that Celestia’s full ire was now directed at her. She also noticed the faint growling sound coming from the incensed alicorn that might be likened to a disgruntled canine. A dangerously disgruntled canine. She turned around to face Twilight.

Twilight supposed that such a gesture was in the vain hope that if she couldn’t see the predator, it wouldn’t eat her, or in this case, set fire to her coat with its molten gaze.

Luna cleared her throat noisily. “About that human, Twilight?”

Twilight slowly shut her mouth and tried to ignore the smouldering expression that looked so out of place on Celestia’s face. Celestia snorted, then gave Twilight an encouraging nod, signalling the dismissal of the matter.

“I couldn’t find him,” Twilight reported succinctly, still uncomfortable with the overly familiar exchange. “When I woke up, Rainbow Dash and the human had disappeared.”

Luna looked thoughtful at that. “Curious, could not the human have stolen away with Rainbow?”

Celestia cocked her head. “Or perhaps he was stolen away?”

“Why?!” Twilight blurted out. “Barely anypony knows what a human is and I had trouble identifying one until I went through Oxley’s.”

“Oxley’s?” Luna queried quizzically.

“A childhood friend of Twilight,” Celestia confided mischievously.

“P-Princess?!” Twilight squeaked, her cheeks reddening. “It’s a book!”

The playful grin didn’t lift from her muzzle. “My point still stands.”

“It’s a reference guide,” Twilight explained hastily. “A bestiary of mythical monsters.”

“Very obscure,” Celestia added, her obvious pride fuelling her former protégé’s discomfort.

Luna glanced between the two until her confusion resolved itself when she figured out what her sister was hinting at. “Ah. Then it seems plausible that none of the ponies here would want to harm the human,” Luna said thoughtfully. “Seeming as they do not know of it. Perhaps my sister’s idea has some merit and the human was indeed stolen away?”

Celestia rolled her eyes, failing to rise to the obvious jab. “Ah, it would have been easier if Twilight had casted a forget-me-not.”

Twilight flushed, remembering the spell. Once cast, anypony could be tracked with reasonable accuracy. Tagging a mythical creature that had an unknown origin and appeared out of nowhere was a no-brainer. Maybe it went back to its own mythical realm. Her eyes widened with panic. Maybe it took Rainbow with it?!

“I’m sure there were other pressing issues on your mind at the time,” Celestia added gently. “I would probably have forgotten to cast it too.”

Grinning, Luna opened her mouth in preparation to add something, but evidently thought the better of it when Celestia swung around to stare at her. Luna’s mirth turned rueful and she decided to move on instead.

“There’s no use for regrets and ‘what ifs’ for now,” she said. “It’s surprising that there hasn’t been a single word about the human leaving. I am led to believe that he has somehow hidden himself around here. The human could not have gotten far.”

Twilight nodded, quelling some of her more hysterical runabout ideas, but remained a tad antsy. Though the human and Rainbow hadn’t been gone for all that long, it was beginning to really concern her that they hadn’t been able to find a trace. Soarin hadn’t gotten back either. Come to think about it, where did that stallion—

“Princess! Woah—and Princesses?!” Soarin screeched to a stop in mid-air. Twilight blinked. How did he do that? It was hard for her to even hover. She shook her head. Not important.

“Soarin!” Twilight gasped in relief. “Thank Celest—” She glanced back.

Celestia chuckled but gestured from her to go on.

“Thank goodness,” Twilight continued somewhat belatedly. “I was beginning to worry about you.”

Soarin grinned as he landed, looking decidedly chuffed. “Thanks, Princess.” Then he grimaced. “Oh that’s right! Princess we’ve found—”

“The human?” Twilight interjected with a hopeful grin.

Soarin’s wary gaze dampened her enthusiasm. “No Princess, we’ve found changelings.”

The mood went from curious to cautious in one breath.

“Where?” Twilight asked sharply.

“When?” Luna demanded.

“How many?” Celestia added.

If Soarin was fazed by the bombardment of questions, he didn’t show it. “Only a few that we could see, just over half an hour ago. We’ve tracked them to the cave system between the Gorge and the Bogg.”

“Bog?” Luna frowned.

“The Bogg, with emphasis on the ‘g’, Princess.” Twilight answered for Soarin. “It’s an artefact of the cartographers back in the founding—” she noted the blank looks “—never mind. Can you lead us to the changelings?”

Soarin nodded. “Follow me, Spitfire has been keeping an eye on them.”

“Spitfire?!” Twilight exclaimed, forcing everypony to stop and look at her.

Soarin raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t you hear? Spitfire was cleared just before you were.”

Twilight frowned. “I heard from Rainbow she took a serious dive trying to save the human, are you sure she should be out and about?”

Soarin paused, then cautiously shook his head. “Well, you know how she can get sometimes. She insists she’s fine. The doctors are looking through the records to determine if there’s been a mix up. It looked like she had a compound fracture, but…”

“But?” Luna prompted.

“But they couldn’t explain how she would have healed so fast in the meantime,” Soarin continued. “I’m not saying there was magic involved…”

“But you’re saying magic is involved?” Celestia said with a knowing smile.

Soarin inclined his head. “Yes, Princess.”

“Curiouser and curiouser,” Luna remarked. “Are you all thinking what I am too?”

“That it might be linked to the human?” Twilight posited.

“Yes,” Luna said. “It could be one of the mysteries of our mysterious guest.”

Celestia cleared her throat. “While this is all very interesting, there is the small matter of the changelings.”

Everypony straightened.

“Yes, of course,” Twilight said. “Please take us there, Soarin.”

——————

Spitfire was circling in a wide loop. Twilight banked to hover just at the boundary of the Everfree forest. The Gorge intersected with the Bogg like a knife sticking out of the recesses of greenery, standing out in stark contrast to the surrounding lands. On first glance, the surrounding rocky terrain didn’t seem to house anything that could be considered cave like systems, but shadowed recesses and indentations hinted at possible networks squirrelled away in the natural landscape.

Spitfire spotted them and beelined towards the group.

“Soarin!” She almost did the same comedic double-take in mid-air that Soarin did. “Princesses?!”

The Wonderbolt Captain blinked but straightened her posture in the way only those born with wings could achieve. “Captain Spitfire reporting for duty, ma’am.”

“Do you have a report?” Celestia asked. Twilight flinched, having opened her mouth to ask the very same thing a second too late. Luna shot her a sympathetic glance.

Spitfire didn’t hesitate. “Yes, Princess. We spotted the changelings just over an hour ago heading towards this point of interest—” she indicated a particularly dark overhang in the cliffside “—the changelings have been heading back to this point. They don’t have a unified direction which leads me to believe that the changelings are seeded all over Equestria.”

Twilight gasped.

“That’s not all,” Spitfire said. “I’ve been counting the amount of changelings coming back…” Even with her outward confidence her pause betrayed her underlying trepidation.

“What?” Twilight waved an impatient hoof. “How many?”

“Over a hundred, Princess.”

Twilight blinked. “How could that many changelings be around Equestria and escape detection for so long? Do you think Chrysalis is back?”

Celestia eyed Twilight giving her an approving nod. “I don’t know, but the method seems much more covert compared to Chrysalis’ stunt at Princess Cadance’s wedding.” She pointed to the overhang. “But the question right now is less of ‘how’ and more of ‘why’. What do changelings have to gain by doing this?”

“And why have they stopped and begun to gather?” Luna posed.

Silence reigned as they pondered the implications. Finally, Soarin spoke up.

“I don’t like it,” he said, “but I think we all agree that we have to do something about it right now.”

“We need to investigate it,” Spitfire agreed. “We should infiltrate the caves.”

“We don’t know anything about them. It could be miles before we encounter anything substantial,” Twilight said doubtfully.

“That’s easy,” Luna said with a crafty grin. She pointed downwards. “That’s how we find out.”

Twilight glanced down and saw an approaching changeling. As she recognised what Luna had in mind, her smile started matching Luna’s own.

“We follow their hoof steps.”

Luna’s horn glowed, her form shimmering out of visibility.

“Like a ghost, we will haunt them.”

———————

Written sat down at her desk rubbing her eyes. The gesture was mostly cosmetic, but for some reason the mortal action tended to relieve some wearing tension. Her container liked the gesture and appreciated some basic maintenance. Besides, forgetting to blink made the eyes leak uncontrollably, so it was better to avoid such distractions.

The Record sat on her desk like a fat toad. The cover had been embossed with the signature identification of the world it was linked to. Usually the detail would barely get a sparing glance, but this time it caught her eye. The numbers were different.

Written felt a mortal chill creep down her spine. Had the Dweller actually lied to her? An Auditor?

Shaking fingers flipped through the Record, frantically trying to find the key information she sought. Nothing. It was a blank Record. It wasn’t even linked to that planet. A vicious snarl distorted her features. That Dweller did lie to her.

The chair crashed into the ground, followed closely by the pattering of paper and various writing implements. Written gripped the record so tightly the binding buckled under the pressure. With careful effort, she suppressed her rage. This was good. This was a clue. This would lead to the reason why Reality had been so warped. She just needed to find that insipid Dweller.

With a breath that contained equal parts exasperation and ire, Written calmed herself down. She stalked to the end of her office and retrieved a heavy brass key that sat on a serious-looking iron ring. The key jangled as she clipped it onto her belt and stalked out of the room.

With a grumble she flipped over the railing and landed on the walkway below. The acrobatic movement was unsteady and Written cursed herself for not practicing more. There were times when being trapped in a mortal container was an inconvenience, but sometimes there was no choice.

The gridded walkway groaned and creaked underfoot as Written marched to the Auditor’s Equipment Room. The Equipment Room was one of the few places that had additional security in the Root. It contained potent Reality-warping items that ranged from the mundane glitch-correcting lenses to full-blown Reality-ending artefacts placed there by the Author herself.

Written was suitably nervous stepping into the Equipment Room. In fact, she was reasonably sure that if any Auditor were alive today, they probably would have stopped her. Express permission was granted by command of the Head Auditor, but he had disappeared with the rest of them. Written wrung her hands, stopping outside the entrance.

It was a small affair, looking like nothing more than a wooden door, albeit with a large cast iron padlock that glowed with charged energy. Any unauthorised personnel would be immediately erased from existence if they touched the lock. Written guessed that being the only Auditor present in the facility for so many years, that would officially make her the acting Head Auditor in the interim. A signed parchment was the only declaration she could come up with that could possibly suffice, but she hoped it would be enough for the door to accept. If it didn’t… well… Written would have other things to worry about.

She gingerly lifted the parchment and placed it flat on the door. With a shriek, an electric shock pulsed through the parchment and into her palms. Written sucked in a painful breath and removed her hands. The parchment remained stuck to the door as if glued into position. The Auditor glared at the door, wondering if there were any new tricks it would pull. Written hesitated, then lifted the keyring off her belt and slid the key into the lock. She gulped down her rising panic. This would be the last moment she could turn back.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she turned the key…

And heard a click as the lock snapped open and disappeared. The door silently swung open. Written let go of a breath she didn’t even know she was holding and relaxed incrementally. All that tension was giving her mortal container knots. She peeked inside, then stumbled in. Her jaw dropping in disbelief.

What?! The rooms were supposed to be full of dangerous Reality-warping artefacts! Where were the severing lenses, the reticulating crystals, the ameliorative prisms?!

Written desperately scanned the empty room. Wait. No, not entirely empty. There was just one object that lay in the corner of the room, leaning against the wall as if discarded. A gnarled staff that appeared to have a gently pulsating blue stone inset in the end.

Written reached down to pick it up. As soon as she touched the wood, a loud snapping sound occurred, along with an intense burning sensation in her fingers. She yelped and whipped her hand back clutching her fingers in pain. As she blinked away her tears she gasped. The staff was gone.

Written sagged.

All this time she had been led to believe that the Equipment Room held strange and wonderful things. Maybe it was just a storage room for some weird baubles the Head Auditor had collected. On top of all that she had burned her hands twice trying to get here and for nothing! Written felt a twinge of frustration before she quashed it sullenly. There was no use getting angry over something she never expected would reliably help her anyway. She trudged to the exit.

Written froze.

The infernal staff was leaning casually on the door.

She narrowed her eyes and reached for the staff. The staff danced away.

Her mouth fell open.

“Hey,” she growled. “Stay still.” Again her questing fingers were eluded as the staff swung away from her and rolled to the centre of the room. Written’s lips tightened. She would not be bested by a mere staff. She was an Auditor of Reality.

“Come here,” she ordered. “I have need of you.”

The staff didn’t budge.

Written muttered something under her breath. She lunged at the staff. “Get over here!”

The staff stuck itself to the ceiling. Written gaped at it. It was definitely a Reality-warping object. It could defy gravity, teleport out of reach, it was self-animated… definitely qualities of a Reality-warping object. Written jumped up and down in an undignified manner trying to reach the staff. After a solid five minutes of trying, Written collapsed to the floor. It felt like centuries of repressed stress was crushing down on her shoulders. This was not her day.

“Oh won’t you please just help me?” Written pleaded, tears blurring her vision. “Reality is at stake!” The Auditor gripped the simple robes around her in her fists. She had worn this uniform for thousands of years. She had performed her duty for an incalculable amount of time. Never had she had a break. Never was anything even remotely easy, but this… this was just too much.

“I don’t ask for much, just get down from there, please?” she moaned.

After a long stretch of silence the staff fell to the ground with a wooden clatter.

Written blinked, looking up. She sniffled, feeling ashamed that she had let such mortal emotions overrule her thought process. It must be the container, it was slowly infecting her with mortal attributes. She glared at the staff. Was it playing with her again? Why did it do that?

She reached for it, but this time it didn’t move away. She pulled back her hand cautiously.

Was it that simple? Surely not.

“Can I hold you, please?” She reached out once more and touched the staff. It didn’t move.

The Roots be rotted. A polite staff.

———————

Twilight was leading the group, beckoning Luna and Celestia when the coast was clear. Twilight reasoned that if she was compromised, then at least Luna and Celestia wouldn’t be caught up in it. There could be traps. Celestia and Luna weren’t terribly pleased at the prospect, but reluctantly agreed that the strategy made sense.

The illusion spell had the added advantage that if anypony else was also invisible they would see each other. The illusion spell was very draining for even talented unicorns, so they could only cast it on themselves and even then it was limited to a few hours. If they couldn’t find the rest of the changelings and get important information in time, they could lose their chance for settling this stealthily.

Luckily the changeling didn’t seem to notice the shimmering haze that followed it as it trotted into the cave. Twilight followed it a few yards behind, hoping her hoof steps would be masked by the changeling’s own. The cave was mostly natural, but in some places it looked like it had been widened as necessary, with marks that looked suspiciously like pick marks scored along the sides of the cave walls.

The passage wound to and fro following intersections and pathways that were dizzying to look at, much less remember. She was concentrating so hard on trying to commit it to memory that she almost missed Celestia’s gesture to the walls. Twilight glanced at the walls and with great difficulty stopped herself from smacking her head on the wall. Of course the walls with the scored pick marks would be the way out. Now they didn’t have to worry about getting lost.

That also explained why the changeling occasionally glanced at the walls.

Fortunately, there didn’t seem to be any traps. The changeling walked confidently through the winding turns of the cave, blissfully unaware that it was leading three alicorn princesses to the heart of their swarm. Twilight bit her lip in anticipation for what lay ahead. What would they find? A changeling army? A changeling cult? A secret changeling pirate cove?

Twilight suppressed a gasp.

It was a changeling nursery. Twilight was not expecting this. The changeling they were following seemed to be occupied with helping a younger changeling reach some weird goop in the centre of the chamber. Though the changeling they were following was still unaware of its shadows, one of the younger ones were staring… right where she was standing.

She backtracked hastily to the other princesses.

“What is it, Twilight?” Luna whispered.

“The changelings have some sort of nursery down here,” Twilight answered reluctantly.

Celestia’s eyebrows furrowed as she considered her findings. “We need to find out more.”

Twilight nodded. “That’s what I was thinking. This can’t be it. One more thing…”

Celestia tilted her head. “Is something wrong?”

Twilight nodded slowly. “I’m not sure if it’s coincidence or otherwise, but one of the younger changelings looked like it could see me.”

Celestia bit her lip. “It’s subtle, but the distortion’s there.”

Luna nodded. “It’s impossible to make us completely invisible.”

“What we could do is temporarily change our forms,” Twilight suggested. She ploughed on, despite the confused looks. “To look like changelings, I mean.”

“Oh!” Luna chuckled. “That would certainly give the changelings a taste of their own medicine.”

“Do you have a spell in mind, Twilight?” Celestia asked.

A small smile played on her lips as she answered. “You’ve known me for a long time, Princess. When do I not have a spell on my mind?”

———————

“So,” the creature drawled, “it might have crossed your mind once or twice that perhaps I’d want to eat you. That I’m a vicious predator that stalks the caves around here?”

David didn’t know if the correct answer was shaking or nodding his head so he kept it still. His eyes tracked the creature as it paced back and forth.

“I’m a changeling,” it said. “Specifically a changeling Queen, I am royalty—” its lips twisted in disdain “—though I’m never recognised as such. What we are recognised as is dangerous...” she locked eyes with David “...pests,” she stalked closer, “feared monsters.”

She suddenly turned away. Was that regret David saw? Couldn’t be.

“Hesitation is weakness, to remain static is to snap under pressure, to be weak is to be ruled,” the Queen continued. “We will not be ruled!” With a stomp, the Queen struck the ground with enough force to make a cracking sound. David winced.

“It’s sad,” the Queen said after a moment’s silence, “that we are reduced to scavenging among the caves, sequestered away from the light like some discarded refuse.” She tapped a bar of the prison cell. “You think this cage is restrictive? You think this is the worst you have experienced? Are you hunted? Have you known fear—true fear—when the inevitable revulsion washes upon their features and they find out your true nature?”

Despite the situation, he couldn’t help but feel a little pity for the ragged Queen. He almost wanted to reach out and comfort it. In fact, his hand lifted a few inches, then dropped down to the wall.

Then the moment was lost. Her posture straightened, her lips tightened, her eyes glowed menacingly as she considered him. Then she did something that seemed to put a lie to everything she did before. She approached him once more and inclined her head.

“Human,” she said through gritted teeth, “I want your help.”

—————

“These forms will take some getting used to,” Twilight said, running a hoof through her patchy mane. “Don’t let a changeling touch you, it’ll break the spell.” Her voice sounded as strange as she felt. The spell even mimicked the changeling drone that underscored their speech.

Celestia was impressed. “I’ve never heard of this spell before, it’s very complicated and well-constructed. Where did you find it?”

Twilight rubbed an embarrassed hoof to the back of her head as she blushed. “It’s actually experimental,” she admitted, “I made it myself.”

Luna blinked. “I suppose we must cease to be amazed by your talents, or we would have no room for any other emotion.”

Twilight went a deeper shade of red. “Thank you, Princesses.”

“The ultimate test of this spell will be to get past without suspicion.” Luna focused ahead. “Will this work, or would this be a further risk?”

“I don’t think we can last much longer with the invisibility spell. We can’t risk the spell failing further along. This doesn’t take nearly as much energy,” Twilight said.

Luna nodded, conceding the point. “Well, let us not delay. We’ll test these for ourselves.”

Twilight forged ahead, moving into the nursery room. Where before the young changelings were content and happy, they all stopped suddenly and stared. The changeling they followed seemed to notice the silence and turned around.

“Can I help you?” it said with the characteristic changeling drone.

“No, no,” Twilight said. “Carry on, we have a report to make.”

“Ah,” the changeling replied, turning back to attend the younger one as they relaxed imperceptibly. “Were you tracking down the human as well?”

“Yes,” Twilight said. “I’m sure the Queen would want to know soon.”

“No rush.” It chuckled. “The Queen managed to lay hooves on the one that was in Ponyville. The other one in Manehatten is not critical if we can get this one to cooperate.”

Another human in Manehatten?! Twilight had a myriad of questions but she suppressed them, instead glancing back at the equally shocked princesses. Asking too many questions would probably raise suspicions. “Okay, we’d better get the report to the Queen.”

The changeling smiled, then suddenly glared at the three of them. “Before you go,” it drawled. “What’s the password?”

Twilight froze. Then she galvanised herself into action. “Password,” she snorted, “that old joke? We’ve never had a password.” Sweat beaded on her brow as she gambled on that statement.

The changeling chuckled. “Hah, phew. Not a pony. You never know when a pony would infiltrate, you know? The others think I’m paranoid, but you never know. Anyway, I’m glad you’re not one of them. You’d better make your report later, the Queen is with the human.”

A frisson of fear crept down her spine. Was that the human? Was he alright? Was Rainbow with him? Was she alright? Twilight reluctantly quelled the train of thought ricocheting in the back of her mind. “I’ll do that,” Twilight replied as she proceeded through the nursery, all the while with young changeling eyes tracking their every hoofstep.

Out of earshot, Celestia leaned towards Twilight. “Well done.”

“Certainly an impressive bluff,” Luna commented.

Twilight tried to swallow back the heart that felt like it was still in her mouth, and succeeded only partially.

“Let’s hope I don’t have to do that too much,” she croaked back.

——————

After a few minutes of wandering, a sudden thought occurred to Twilight. “What do we know about changelings?” she asked quietly.

“Not much,” Celestia admitted. “There’s a lot of mystery shrouding these creatures. It was said that they were around even before organised pony society, before the pre-classical era. Luna?”

Luna stared into distant memories. “There have been times when they were mentioned, but changelings have only come to light fairly recently. I had almost forgotten they had existed.” She shook her head. “That they have been so active recently is worrying.”

Celestia paused. “Do you hear that?”

Twilight stopped and cocked her head. “Strange, it sounds like—”

“—Humming,” Luna finished for her.

—————

David blinked at the Queen. It felt like his mind was all over the shop. He glanced back at Rainbow.

“I don’t know your name,” he said.

“You may call me Exuviae.”

David swallowed, gesturing gingerly at Rainbow. “If I help you, will you help her?”

Exuviae didn’t hesitate. “You have my word that no harm will come to this one. I had contingency plans for the Element, but if you cooperate there is no need for her.”

David sighed. “What do you need from me?” They mentioned blood. He felt his stomach drop sickeningly.

Exuviae caught his expression and softened slightly. “It’s probably not as bad as you are thinking, no. While you are our prisoner, we need you. Don’t you think we would have already harmed you if we wanted to?”

David nodded cautiously. She had a point.

“Well, human, would you like to take a walk with me?”

When he hesitated, Exuviae vented a frustrated sigh that made him feel embarrassed. She bared her teeth wickedly. “It’s not like I expect you to lose all your inhibitions just because you agree to help, but I want you to see that we’re not just monsters.”

“Why is it so important that you convince me of that?” David asked.

Exuviae moved to the end of the chamber near the bars. He couldn’t see a door so he was puzzled as to how exactly she was planning to get past them. He didn’t see any visual clue until the Queen motioned to the changelings from beyond the bars. They signalled further down the corridor and a slow grating sound came from the bars as they rose from the ground into the cave ceiling.

Gaping, David was impressed. There was some serious engineering behind the bars.

“Like it?” Exuviae said. “We are quite inventive when given the chance, but this is also partly why we need you.” Outside the cell, Exuviae beckoned him through and gestured once more, with the bars crashing down into its worn grooves in the floor. She caught his worried look.

“Don’t worry,” she said. “Your friend will be safe enough here.” She leaned in and whispered something to one of her changelings. “I have instructed one of the guards to explain the situation to your friend when she wakes up. Then she’ll be given the option to leave of her own accord. She cannot follow us.”

David opened his mouth, but the Queen cut him off.

“This is non-negotiable. We live in trying times and I want you to hear us without the interference of the ponies.” Exuviae sighed. “I could see you weren’t with them for very long because you reacted as if you’ve never heard of us before. This is good, you need to understand—” A changeling darted down the cave tunnel skittering to a stop in front of Exuviae and bowing hastily.

“What is it?” Exuviae snapped, visibly irritated at the interruption.

“My Queen,” the changeling bowed. “An important report.” It glanced sidelong at David.

Exuviae took the cue. “Excuse me,” she said, moving to the side and conversing in a whisper with her subordinate.

David glanced back down the hallway casually, spotting a handful of changelings that had silently flanked them as they had progressed. They were so quiet he hadn’t even noticed, but their presence quelled the small thought inside him to run. He rubbed his eyes. In his whole life, he’d never been so stressed out. His one job was very low stakes. Just keep the records in the airport and track the logistics. Everything was rapidly getting out of hand, he felt like he was spiralling down a rabbit hole with the ground crumbling every time he thought he had gotten his footing.

Exuviae was discussing something intently with the new changeling. From her tense stance and heated replies, it must have been something bad. Finally she nodded sharply and pointed down the hallway. The changeling gave a salute and galloped down the hallway, disappearing down one of the many side passages of this complex network of tunnels.

“My apologies,” Exuviae said while coming alongside David again. “There have been… problems.”

“What sort of problems?” David asked, unable to resist.

Exuviae’s sharp glance sent a chill through his veins. “Nothing to concern yourself with at the moment.” She turned away as if regretting the show of intimidation. “I… apologise, anything that concerns my changelings tend to make me… impolite.”

David thought it might go a bit beyond that, but didn’t say so. Why was this creature so desperate to make him sympathetic?

“In any case, we’re nearly there,” Exuviae said, rounding a corner.

Until now, the caves were lit ahead by the small glow of the changeling horns. There wasn’t anything significantly bright in these dark depths. It didn’t bother David that much. It made it creepy, but his eyes had slowly adjusted to the dim settings and he found the cave floor had been levelled so there was no trouble walking. In fact, the whole cave tunnels looked like there had been a lot of work put into them.

Around the corner the mouth widened considerably and the light from their horn dimmed considerably, temporarily blinding his unadjusted eyes.

He gaped.

Here was an opening to the outside, a large cavity in the mountainside that was riddled with holes, tracks and passages that gave it a honeycomb look. When David emerged from the cave and walked towards the railing he saw the pillars holding each level up and the concentric levels extending all the way down. On the left, a tall mountain blocked the setting sun, but for now the sun cast brilliant shafts on a tumbling two-staged waterfall that cascaded into the seemingly endless pit below.

“Did you… build all this?”

Exuviae snorted. “No, that’s a little beyond our talents. This has been abandoned for as long as I can remember. We’ve been here for a few decades, but something that had been here was gone or buried for thousands of years.”

David surveyed the ordered columns that lined each ring supporting the ceiling above. Each concentric ring was as extensive as a football stadium. An endeavour like this would be monstrous. How could anyone achieve something like this thousands of years ago? It was a wonder. He smiled slightly, admiring the architectural feat. That it had lasted that long was amazing in itself. Thousands of years against a waterfall? Or was it a later addition after nature’s implacable erosion? It seemed impossible.

Immensely difficult, but not impossible, David thought as he remembered the Egyptian pyramids.

Exuviae eyed David from her periphery. “So,” she began, “a story, then a decision.”

For once, her confidence trembled visibly with her anticipation. Much as David thought he was making a deal with the devil as it were, he couldn’t help but feel that whatever he had to offer was more valuable to them. He bit his lip, waiting for Exuviae to regale him with her tale.

“We are dying,” she announced abruptly. She shook her head at his stricken look. “No, not from disease, not from starvation, not from any natural affliction that you could imagine a nation suffers from in the slow progression of Time. We’re dying from stagnation.”

“I don’t understand,” David said in the ensuing silence.

Exuviae regarded him with a look that made him feel like he was a misbehaving child. “But you do,” Exuviae continued impatiently, “humans have been a part of this world a long time ago. They have been the harbingers of change.”

Exuviae trotted closer to the edge, leaning on the one of the pillars as she flung a hoof out to encompass the majesty of the multi-storey mega-construction. “Do you know what this structure is?”

David shook his head.

“It’s a temple,” Exuviae explained. “An ancient temple that described a mythical creature capable of amazing feats and abilities.” She locked gazes with him. “A human.”

Before David could say anything, Exuviae continued. “A human was an exceedingly rare creature and accounts were widely variable and vague. One thing was for certain, a common thread among the complex tapestry of stories if you will, was that humans were regarded as auspicious creatures. Killing a human was considered catastrophic. Plagues, misfortune, damnation—” she licked her lips “—but if treated right also promises of wealth, power and immortality.” She flicked her tail dismissively. “Each story was fantastical as the next, but here, sequestered in the centre of Equestria was the truth about humans.”

David couldn’t resist asking the obvious as Exuviae paused theatrically. “What is it? What’s the truth?”

Exuviae grinned wickedly. “It is said that humans could warp the very fabric of reality itself. With that kind of power humans become the final arbiters. They can legitimise almost any course of action. Say it is so, and most will believe.” Exuviae studied him critically. “You must choose a ruler for the changelings.”

David didn’t laugh despite the incredulity of the statement. Exuviae’s serious demeanour plunged his flippant retort on that delusional belief into icy waters. He licked his lips.

“There must be a mistake,” he said. “I don’t think I can just make a decision and pick someone to ‘rule’ as you say. I’m nothing special, and I don’t have any of these powers!”

“Don’t play games with me, human!” Exuviae snarled. “Our race is at the point of extinction! We’re fractured, we’re malcontent, and worse, we’re isolated with nowhere to go. Do you think I enjoy living in a cave, afraid to venture out into the light? Do you think we take pleasure in competing against each other for food like primitive savages? Do you think we enjoy wearing the faces of ponies and living in fear that we’d be hunted down and cast out? Do you think I have the—”

Exuviae choked on the last word, going into a coughing fit. Instinctively, David reached out and grabbed the Queen by her shoulders as she slumped against the column, her eyes temporarily glazing over. Exuviae looked exhausted. Not just physically, but a deep inner struggle that shadowed her eyes as she refocused on David. Frantic changelings shouldered past his grip to support their Queen as she coughed, albeit more softly. Eventually, her hacking wheeze subsided and she stiffly returned her posture to ramrod straight, though David could now see a slight trembling in her left fore hoof.

“—Time,” Exuviae finished weakly. What were once fiery flashes smouldering in her eyes, was now an ember guttering with every wheeze.

“You’re…”

“Not long to live,” she muttered, waving away the gathered changelings surrounding her anxiously. “But that’s not what is important. What is important is the future.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that weakness is death among changelings. Rival swarms won’t hesitate to engage once they know that we are without a Queen.” She sighed. “Or with a weak one. I’m tired of hiding, I’m tired of our species being so ruled by primeval rules that dictated a species’ survival millennia ago!” She paused to take a shallow breath. “Your existence is a special one, a pivotal piece among the crushing cogs of a political machine. Only as a human can you stand aside and give your unique perspective. Your mythos gives you weight. You can convince the others to give unity a chance.”

David groaned. “I don’t know if you realised, but the only way I can speak to you is through whatever it is you did earlier. I can’t speak to anyone else here.”

Exuviae didn’t budge. “You must find a way.”

David raised an eyebrow skeptically. “You want me to name you the leader?”

Exuviae shook her head sharply. “Me? A dying Queen? Certainly not. I want you to name my successor. My daughter.”

David sighed. “You’re putting a lot of stock in me helping you simply because I want to help someone that’s helped me.” He paused, backtracking his words quickly to make sure they made sense before nodding to himself. He crossed his arms. “Don’t you think your bargain is a little one-sided?”

Exuviae looked like she wanted to incinerate David on the spot for his presumption. He quailed slightly under her glare, but stood firm with an effort. After all, she herself had told him they couldn’t kill him, right?

“Very well,” she murmured, “what is it that you wish for?”

“I want to go back home,” David replied fervently. “I want to get back to Earth.”

“And pray-tell where is this ‘Earth’?”

David sighed. “I don’t know,” he admitted, “but it’s about as uncertain as this plan of yours that involves me arbitrating the geopolitics of a land I know nothing about. I think you should give it a shot if I’m going to give yours a shot.”

For the first time since they met, Exuviae laughed.

“True,” she said. “An apt description for my foolhardy plan. You strike a fair deal, human.”

“David,” he replied. “My name is David.”

—————

“The humming, where is it coming from?”

Twilight glanced at Celestia, her ear twitching in what could only be described as ‘pensively’.

“I think it’s coming from the walls,” she said quietly.

Luna and Celestia both twitched, then listened more intently.

“You know, I think you are right,” Luna said.

They strained in the dimly lit darkness.

“It stopped,” Twilight mumbled.

“What does that mean?” Celestia asked.

“It means you’re all trespassing.”

Whipping around, the three alicorns flared their wings instinctively and took a step back. The changeling didn’t make a move and simply stared at them with an unimpressed blank stare.

“What do you mean?” Twilight replied slowly. “How can we be trespassing?”

The changeling snorted. “You ponies are as bad at lying as I’ve heard.” It gestured to the distinctive green saddle-like back plate on its carapace. “You don’t have our Swarm’s markings. You don’t have any Swarm’s markings. Ergo, you must be another creature, the only other one that would take an interest would be ponies, but that was an educated guess. Your surprise really took it away.”

For the first time, Twilight seemed to notice the subtle patterns on the changeling’s backplate. She didn’t realise the markings were unique, it seemed uniform among the changelings so she simply thought it was part of their morphology. They could tell each changeling and where they come from apart?

“Wait, Swarms?” Twilight spluttered.

“As in plural?” Luna added incredulously.

The changeling sighed. “You may as well follow me. Queen Exuviae has asked me not to harm you, but to keep you out of sight. We don’t want you to upset our guest.”

“Guest?” Twilight asked.

Its critical gaze met Twilight’s as it considered whether or not to elaborate on the point.

“The human, as you probably know.”

“Did you happen to take a pony as well?” Twilight pressed.

“Yes—” it held up a hoof, stopping a caustic retort “—she’s fine. The Queen has also promised that she would help her when she can. For now she’s in a cell block.”

“She’s a prisoner?” Celestia said sharply.

The changeling was unfazed by the molten glare. “She’s in one of the safest parts of the cave system. Though she isn’t free to move around just yet, it’s the best place to keep an eye on her. Your friend is fine, we haven’t harmed her.” The changeling flicked a hoof dismissively. “That’s all, now you must come with me.”

“Why should we?” Luna interjected as the changeling paused while turning. “There are three of us and one of you.”

The changeling cocked its head. “Even if that were true,” it said, gesturing into the darkness. Numerous glowing eyes revealed themselves in the depths. “You wouldn’t want to get lost in the caves would you? They’re more intricate than you can imagine, and I give you my word that I will see you safely there.” Its voice hardened. “I will not allow you to interfere with what my Queen’s desires.”

Twilight swallowed. Considering their strength, it may be possible to fight their way out, but Twilight didn’t like putting all their chips down on a purely physical confrontation. She glanced at Luna and Celestia. They nodded reluctantly, they were thinking the same thing.

“Lead on,” Twilight mumbled.

——————

Written gripped the staff tightly, tracing her steps back to the Root. The very centre of the Root housed a small structure that linked Reality with every sum of its Causal parts. It was a surprisingly unremarkable thing, the Author had an affinity for understated objects of power.

In the very centre of the Root was a simple stone slab connecting all the lives to the records through the Roots of Creation. Spindly webs above flittered metaphysically tethering the universes to the complex structure. Some of the more key universes had brighter cords, while the more mundane ones devoid of any life was barely held by a thread thinner than a spider’s.

Written entered the chamber cautiously, taking care not to touch any of the wandering strands. She didn’t know if they were dangerous, but it was probably a bad idea to come into contact with them. Closer to the stone slab, Written could make out the markings done in the Author’s own handwriting. It was illegible to her. Only higher beings could read the words of her writing.

She shook her head, pulling her gaze away from the writing. That wasn’t important. What was important was correcting Reality. She could only do that if she found out where the Dweller went with the pages of the Record she had removed. Placing the book on the slab, she cleared her mind, and sent her request through a carefully timed wish.

Time stopped for a heartbeat.

With something that felt like a concussive shockwave, innumerable tendrils of questing probes reached out into the myriad of universes to find the lost pages. The Root wanted the Record to be whole. Reality would be corrected. With a snapping sensation, the search stopped, and Written blinked. Burned in her mind were the coordinates for the universe the Dweller had sequestered herself in. For the first time in a long while, Written grinned.

It was not a friendly expression.

——————

“Is it supposed to do that?” Mortimus asked tentatively.

Secant glanced at the glowing pages loosely clasped in her hand. She blinked as the glow faded slowly, the pages of the Record becoming inert.

“No…” she said instinctively, then hastily amended her statement. “I-I mean I don’t know…”

Mortimus eyed it warily. It could be magic. Who knew with mythical humans? “Let’s hope it’s nothing serious.”

——————

Small bonus scene that is non-canon: This was a little something I thought was funny, but you can skip it if you don’t like reading about Lyra and humans.

Lyra was not impressed.

“It’s a passing curiosity,” she said with a sigh. “I’m pretty knowledgeable about it but…” Lyra shifted slightly. “I’m not interested. I mean I am interested, but…”

Twilight edged a little to see if Lyra would invite them in. Despite three princesses waiting with varying degrees of patience, she didn’t seem inclined to move at all.

“Why are you so embarrassed about it?” Twilight pressed. “We just need a little information.”

“I guess…” Lyra trailed off. “But can we go somewhere else before—”

“Lyra? Who’s at the door?”

“—Before Bon Bon finds out,” Lyra groaned belatedly. Louder, she called back reluctantly, “It’s Princess Twilight, Princess Celestia and Princess Luna.”

There was a sharp gasp and the sound of thumps and stumbling. At each particularly hard knock Lyra winced. Within moments Bon Bon squeezed her head in the gap between Lyra and the door. “The Princesses? Oh what a surprise! What do you need?”

Lyra remained silent so Twilight took that as the cue to fill her in. “We’re asking Lyra about humans.”

Bon Bon blinked at her blankly for a few seconds before bursting out into hearty laughter. “Oh, ho, hoahhahahaha! HAHAHA!” Bon Bon practically doubled over with the overwhelming mirth. Lyra had a frustrated expression while Celestia and Luna viewed it with a mixture of bemusement.

“Uhh,” Twilight began.

“Okay, you done now?” Lyra snapped.

Bon Bon wheezed between chuckles. “Oh Lyra I haven’t started yet.” She surveyed the confused looks from the collective princesses. “Pfft, hahaha you better let ol’ Lyrie tell you.”

“Lyrie?”

Lyra rolled her eyes. “Don’t ask,” she muttered, then she turned to the Celestia and Luna. “Please,” she said cordially. “Come in.”

Lyra gestured to a set of couches surrounding a small coffee table. A snorting and giggling Bon Bon staggered to the kitchen, presumably to brew some tea and grab some refreshments, while Lyra sagged into the couch looking decidedly uncomfortable. At least as uncomfortable a pony could get under the scrutiny of three princesses.

Lyra rubbed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Alright, I think you should know, I was very young and this was all a long time ago.”

“What is?” Twilight asked with no small amount of confusion.

“I used to have… a liking for ancient mythology.”

“A liking? More like obsession!” Bon Bon called back from the kitchen.

Lyra winced but didn’t argue the point. “Well, yes, I’ve done a little research on them, even written a few stories…” She waved her hooves wildly. “Not anymore! It was a one-time thing!”

Bon Bon stifled another bout of laughter as she carried in the tea. She set a place for each of the princesses and sat down next to her friend, jostling her jovially. “You even dressed up like a human and you went to those shady meetings with all the other ponies that believed.”

Lyra sighed. “That’s all in the past now, humans aren’t real,” she ground out firmly. “Anypony to say otherwise are just crackpots that think it’s an Equestrian government conspiracy.” She chuckled slightly, then sipped her tea.

Twilight shifted uncomfortably. “Well what if we told you they’re actually… real?”

Lyra spat out the contents of her mouth, spraying Twilight with expertly brewed Ceylon tea. Twilight grumbled, wiping her face on an apologetic cloth held out by Bon Bon.

“Sorry!” Lyra choked out. “You’re pulling my leg, right? You’re pulling my leg? Ha, ha, ha! Very funny.” She didn’t sound so certain under the dead serious looks from Princess Celestia and Luna seated further down the couch.

“No,” Celestia answered for Twilight. “Humans are quite real.”

“Well,” Lyra said faintly, “that’s embarrassing.”

Author's Notes:

You know, these freaking chapters get longer every time I write them. Is this a curse?

If you want me to update a story quicker you have to bug me directly via comments or PM or Skype because I'm a fickle human being that thrives on attention... I'm a bad person.

Next Chapter: Things get complicated for David and Secant. In all sorts of mildly inappropriate ways. Also, things get increasingly meta.

As always, my sub-zero heroes readers, thanks for reading!

P.S. Let me know if stuff gets too stretchy for the 'E' tag. Let me know if tags need changing in general. I'm a very bad judge of tags.
P.P.S. The plot for this fic has been finalised. I can now sleep.