Dear Small Pony Book

by Carapace

First published 4th of December, 2016

Princess Cadence and Prince-Captain Shining Armor have given Thorax a journal to document his days in the Crystal Empire so they can help him learn from his experiences. This can only go well.

Dear Small Pony Book,

Hello. My name is Thorax. I am a changeling formerly of the Badlands Hive, ruled by the terrible Queen Chrysalis. Nowadays, I am fortunate to call the Crystal Empire home, and their Royal Family my friends.

Since I'm rather new to living in pony society—without orders to infiltrate, of course—my new friends have been doing their very best to help me get acclimated to this strange, alien way of life. To this end, Princess Cadence has instructed me to tell you of my experiences so that we might use this as time to reflect together. However, I do find it strange. How am I to discuss my day to day interactions with a book? Especially one without a name? You can't not have a name, that would just be rude. So, I will just have to figure one out for you.

I'm not sure why Cadence is laughing at that, or why Shining Armor is groaning. This is a very serious issue.

These ponies are strange. But I don't think I'd have them any other way.

---

A little thing for me to fiddle with when I'm bored. Updates will likely be sporadic. Tagged as a prequel/sequel to The Face I'll Wear because it will explore some of the same themes and will show events before and after the story.

Preread by Timaeus.

1. Vases Don't Tremble

Dear Small Pony Book,

Today did not start start out well. I reflected on how things had gotten to such a nasty place as I hid from my gracious hosts and friends, Princess Cadence and Prince-Captain Shining Armor. My china body trembled on the crystalline mantle, making a shrill rattling noise. I tried in vain to force myself to sit still. Any movement would give me away. The ponies in the Crystal Empire had very keen eyes.

They learned to watch for all the little ticks with me around. Anything that might betray something out of sorts became a hint that I was up to my tricks, satisfying the natural urge we changelings have. Granted, things were a bit difficult since I gave my word on Name and Eggshell that I would choose only one pony form to wear along with my natural one, but allowances were made for drastic times.

This morning was such a time.

Though my ears had morphed into loopy handles, I could hear the familiar clippity-clop of a pony’s hooves against the floor echoing throughout the hallway. By sound alone, I knew it wasn’t a crystal pony—their hooves made a sort of clackity-clack sound in the Crystal Palace. This, of course, meant it was either one of the guard officers, Sunburst, or my hosts.

By the cadence of the pony’s stride, I could guess exactly which one.

I managed to fight down a nervous chitter as the steps drew closer. I heard the tinkling sound of magic float through the air. The latch jiggled and clicked, and the door hinges squeaked as he pushed the door open.

“Thorax?” Shining Armor called. He trotted into the room, no doubt searching every nook and cranny for the missing changeling in his palace. “Thorax, come out. I know you’re in here.”

I prayed to the First Queen that he didn’t hear the rattling or the little gasp that sounded from the mantle above the fireplace. Squeezing my china eyes shut, I tried to send silent word that I wasn’t in the room. I was somewhere else in the palace, somewhere in the North Tower or the Wine Cellar, and not in my favorite hiding room.

The Prince-Captain heaved a sigh and approached. His steps stopped just a few strides away from my hiding spot. “Thorax, please.”

I didn’t move. He might have found my general location but, with changelings, that wasn’t worth the slime from a month old cocoon. As long as my disguise held, he wouldn’t find me.

Shining sighed again. I could almost imagine him rolling his eyes. “Okay. Have it your way, buddy. I guess we’re playing hide and seek again.” The tinkling of magic floated through the air once more, I could feel the static tickle as a tendril reached out to grab something. “Let’s see if this is Thorax today.”

My china body was lifted into the air, I fought back a startled yelp and kept the act as best I could. His magic held me fast, leaving no hope for escape even if I should try.

“Hmm, no response. Maybe this isn’t Thorax after all.” I dared to crack open an eyelid to sneak a peek at my captor. His lips curved into a crooked smile and his bright blue eyes shone with amusement. The pink glow around his horn shone brighter. “But let’s check just to be sure.”

I realized what he meant almost the instant he said it, but far too late to stop him. The static tickle spread all over my body, until I felt as though I was being attacked with soft, downy pegasus feathers. I squirmed and writhed, trying to maneuver my china body free, but to no avail. My control failed.

My disguise dropped in a flash of arcane fire, chittering laughter bubbled forth from the back of my throat as I kicked my hooves and buzzed my wings, pleading between giggles for him to cease his assault and show mercy on this poor, innocent changeling.

“Well, well! Look who I’ve found!” he said as he released me from my ticklish torment. I looked up to find him grinning down at me with an eyebrow raised, the very picture of a bemused father. He greeted me in a tone as though he hadn’t just spent his morning searching for me, “Good morning, Thorax.”

I found myself quailing beneath his gaze. “Good morning, Shining Armor,” I muttered. My eyes fell to the floor. I bit my lip and tried to find the right words to say. After a moment’s thought, I ducked lower and said, “I’m sorry. Is Flurry okay?”

“Flurry Heart is fine, Thorax. A little frightened, but fine.” His magic washed off my body. Shining Armor stepped close and rested a hoof on my shoulder. “Sunburst says it was an accident.”

A mournful chitter threatened to escape. “I scared her.”

“She hit you in the face with some hot oatmeal and you hissed in pain, Thorax. Not to hurt my child. I can hardly blame you for that.” He squeezed my shoulder for a second, then let go. “Come on,” he said, “Cady’s got her calmed down, and I’m sure she’ll want to see you again.”

Glancing around at my hiding room, my gaze settled on the mantle I’d hidden myself. No doubt I would have to put the real vase back once I’d made amends with little Flurry and satisfied my hosts. With a sigh, I rose to my hooves and changed forms. “Okay,” I reply sullenly.

Shining fixed me with a quizzical look. “Crystal Hoof?”

“Don’t want to scare her again.”

“I see.” He furrowed his brows and sucked in his lips. For a split second, I worried that I angered him. But rather than lash out and strike me across the face as punishment as the Queen would have done, he simply took a deep breath, then turned to lead me out of my hiding room. “Well, come on. Let’s get you two to kiss and make up, so you can go back to being friends again.”

I gave an anxious little whine in reply, which earned me a sidelong look—a tool pony parents use to cow their foals without saying a word, as I learned from watching the crystal ponies. With a sheepish smile, I tried to think of something to change the subject, anything to put myself back in good graces.

My mind wandered back to my hiding room. Shining Armor had found me far too easily. “How did you know I was the vase?”

For a moment there was silence between us. Then, I noticed his shoulders shaking and his ears pinning back against his scalp.

Was he upset? I tilted my head and craned to get a better look. “Shining?”

Shining turned to meet my gaze. His smile was strained and cheeks puffed, his eyes seemed to dance with mirth. His reply came tinged with poorly restrained laughter, “Vases don’t tremble, Thorax.”

I followed Shining through the glimmering hallways. His laughter finally abated by the time we passed by the third or fourth set of guards stationed in the corridor. While they had been rather cold and wary of me at first, they’ve since come around. Quite a few of them even smile and nod when they greet me in their “gruff, tough guard voice”—which Princess Cadence assured me was an act and that they’re all sweethearts when out of their armor, so fear not, Small Pony Book.

That aside, I still felt a bit of dread as I trotted through the palace alongside Shining Armor, even as we drew nearer to the Royal Suite. What if Flurry Heart was so frightened of me she started to cry the instant I walked into the room? Would that mean she would never ask me to make silly faces for her again? Would I be barred from feeding her? Or reading her stories and doing my best character voices for her? Or, worse than that …

Would Princess Cadence be cross with me? I had, after all, frightened her beloved foal.

My breath came in short, ragged gasps. I stopped in mid-stride and tried to reign in my racing heart. I took several deep breaths in rapid succession, my eyes as wide as dinner plates.

Shining turned to face me. His lips twitched and curved into a small frown. “There’s no need to panic, Thorax.”

“I would argue that there is every need to panic!” I replied hastily. My eyes fell to the floor again, staring at my reflection upon the cloudy surface of quartz. “Is Cadence angry?” I asked, so very much like a newborn hatchling trying to impress his clutch mother.

He shook his head. “She’s concerned for both of you. So come on.” A pink glow wreathed around his horn once more as he sent out a tendril of magic to wrap around the door’s polished brass handle and pull it open. Shining gestured me inside with a little shooing motion. “She’s waiting for you.”

Torn between the inspection of my own reflection and a want to check on Flurry Heart, I bit my lip. My knees quivered, and I felt as though they might give out at any second.

But my hooves began to move toward the door, almost as if they had a mind of their own. I swallowed a mouthful of spit and sent silent prayer to the First Queen that though She ignored my plea to stay hidden, She might show mercy upon this poor hatchling and grant me a chance to make amends for my inability to control my natural outbursts.

My heart raced like a nymph on his first scouting mission as I hesitantly entered the room. I poked my faux pony head around the corner, and my ears drooped as I glanced at each pony in turn. There was Sunburst on the far side of little Flurry’s crib, his sunset orange coat and fiery red beard cleaned, but still looked matted from the oatmeal assault. On the other, was the living embodiment of Love herself, Princess Cadence.

I don’t know how to adequately describe her beauty to you, Small Pony Book. How does one go into detail about how her soft pink coat feels like silk when she wraps you in a tender hug, or praise how her mane—a beautiful blend of purple, magenta, and soft, creamy yellow—flows and captures the light of Princess Celestia’s sun? Or how her smile lights up the room and radiates enough love to make any changeling stop in place to behold her splendor?

It’s simply impossible, Small Pony Book.

But with all that love comes the fury of the pegasi, her former race (or so I’m told). The fires of Hurricane’s wrath burn hottest within her chest when her loved ones are threatened. I have had the dubious honor of witnessing such firsthoof.

She did not go quietly when Queen Chrysalis took her captive before the wedding. I would wager Libellula still has cracks in her faceplate from the bare-hoofed beating she got—which is quite the shame, for she was a beautiful changeling. I confess that I would have liked to court her after the invasion, if she would allow it.

Just as I suppressed the image of poor Libellula’s battered face, Princess Cadence turned to face Shining and me. Her deep purple eyes met mine for a moment and my heart promptly leapt into my throat. Then she turned to Shining with a knowing smile and said, “Thank you for finding him.”

Shining trotted over to her side and wrapped a hoof around her shoulders. “No trouble at all,” he replied, dotting her with a quick kiss before he turned and leaned down to nuzzle Flurry.

Princess Cadence returned her attention to me and walked over. Instinctively, I bowed my head and tried to look smaller. The Queen was less likely to discipline through pain if she knew the offender was contrite and acknowledged her unquestioned authority.

A gentle hoof touched my shoulder, along with the cool touch of her golden shoes. “How is your faceplate?” she asked softly.

I didn’t look up. “Doesn’t hurt as badly now,” I muttered in reply. “How is Flurry?”

She gave a bell-like giggle and patted my shoulder. “She was startled, but fine now. As a matter of fact, she’s been babbling about you.”

My earfins perked up. I raised my head to meet her gaze. “Really?”

“Really.” Princess Cadence smiled back at me. “It seems she wants ‘Tora’ to make silly faces. If you’re not too bothered, that is.”

I must have been so surprised that I dropped my Crystal Hoof disguise. Either way, I approached Flurry’s crib slowly, more like I was walking toward an angry manticore than the giggly, babbling little foal I helped watch while her parents worked.

There she was. The instant I set my polished and holed hooves on the edge of her crib, and poked my head over to look at her through teal eyes, little Flurry Heart squealed and reached out to me. Her bright blue eyes lit up like a Hearth’s Warming tree. “Tora! Tora!” she squeaked, calling my name in her baby talk. She babbled and stuck out her tongue, a sign I knew to be her request for a performance.

Though my tiny host had seemingly forgiven me for startling her, I was still a bit uneasy, Small Pony Book. I bit my lip—mindful of my fangs—and glanced at her parents.

Shining Armor rolled his eyes almost playfully. “Go ahead, entertain our tiny over-lady,” he teased. “We’ve got to have a talk with you later today.”

A sinking feeling crept into my chest. “Am I in trouble?”

“No trouble. Just a bit of curiosity on our part. A few more questions about where you are for education.” As I made to reply, he held up a hoof. “Play with her for a while. It’s not too urgent.”

A quick glance to Princess Cadence earned an approving nod. I gave a hesitant smile, then turned back to Flurry Heart. My hosts had given permission, and the youngest demanded that I entertain with her with my race’s unique ability.

Bringing a hoof to my chin, I hummed in thought. What face would Flurry like best, I wondered? She loved it when I stuck out my tongue and put on googly eyes, so, naturally, that was my opener.

Her peals of babyish laughter warmed my heart. I do love this job and my new home, Small Pony Book. The company here is far more appealing.

Even if some of the things they do can be strange.

Author's Notes:

Thank you for reading through Thorax's journal! If you like what I'm doing, consider donating to my Patreon.

2. The Winter Spirits are Jerks

Dear Small Pony Book,

Winters are far colder in the Crystal Empire than they ever were in the Badlands.

No matter how thick I’ve made my cocoons, I’ve been left shivering in the cool night air that hangs thick in the lower chambers of the castle. I’ve even been forced to procure several blankets in which to wrap myself within the gelatinous confines of my cocoon.

It’s quite the trick, let me tell you. I daresay that no pony could manage it when wrapped in a cocoon—then again, changeling slime tends to be a bit more sticky on pony coat, while my carapace has a special agent to allow me to move when I wish.

After my little, debacle with Flurry and her wayward oatmeal, I began to feel that chill settle in again. It’s a rather strange thing. It felt as though it had managed to worm its way into a crack in my carapace and spread beneath it, covering my body in its frigid embrace. My knees would shake and my joints felt oddly achey. I even had to double check a few times to make sure there weren’t icicles growing within the holes in my legs!

When I went outside for the first time in this weather, well, it was far worse. Shining Armor had to enclose me in one of his shield spells and shouted for a young officer by the name of Sunny to wrap her magic around me until they could carry me back into the palace. I learned that day that the mare’s magic had an oddly warm sensation to it—something I truly miss right now, Small Pony Book. With that said, there is something to note:

Pony magic has different feeling to it, sometimes. When Shining is playfully grabbing me out of my hiding spots, it feels ticklish and tingly. Princess Cadence’s feels similar to Sunny’s, but with more … love to it.

Which brings me to the main point of this entry: Hearth’s Warming, a pony holiday.

The Crystal Palace had been decorated with colorful lights, boughs of holly, and red and gold streamers that wrapped up the crystalline columns. The entire palace seemed to glow, the lights painted the crystal a myriad of colors that seeped into the walls themselves and made it look like a bit, tasty piece of cake.

It wasn’t, though. Please don’t ask me how I found that out, Small Pony Book. Just know that it ended with a very unpleasant taste upon my tongue and more embarrassment than the time I put Flurry’s diaper on her head when Shining caught me. I still recall how hard he laughed.

Still, that didn’t distract from the cold. The winter had not been kind to me, a southern changeling, and my hosts were starting to grow weary of my constant refusal of aid. It all came to a head this morning.

I had ventured forth from my room, an old guest room that the guards helped me clean out so I could set up my cocoons as I pleased at night, only to discover that the morning chill I’d grudgingly accustomed myself to felt more like a face full of the endless blizzard raging beyond the city’s protective shield. My carapace stuck together, I felt pain shoot through my joints as I beat a hasty retreat into the safety of my room and promptly wrapped myself in a cocoon of my thickest blankets.

Only then did I realize a terrible flaw in my design: by bringing my blankets into my warm slime cocoon, I left them wet each morning. Without sending them to be washed and dried—along with my apologies for having to deal with changeling slime—they were just as cold as everything else in the palace.

With a miserable chitter, I discarded my wet blankets and made my way over to the closet, I would have to make due with what I hadn’t used the night before if I wanted to survive the cold. To my dismay, only a few thin woven blankets remained, the sort my hosts would snuggle beneath while they sat on the couch and red a book together. Not nearly enough to survive winter’s onslaught.

But I had little alternative. I slung them over my shoulders, back, and hindquarters and sat down, rubbing my hooves together and breathing upon them in hopes of spreading warmth with friction. My ears lay flat against my scalp, a tiny whine escaped my lips. “Why does it have to be so cold?” I complained aloud.

Winter, however, did not have mercy upon me. I cursed it a thousand times, begging the First Mother to find the Winter Spirits and sink her fangs into their necks. Since they loved making poor, innocent changelings like myself shiver and feel like our chitin was brittle, they deserved to feel the tingling sting of our venom coursing through their veins until they were rendered motionless.

Stupid Wendigos.

Not for the first time, I wished to be born a pony. If I had their fuzzy, velvety coat, I could at least have some measure of protection against the Winter Spirits’ terrible embrace. What’s more, I wouldn’t feel like my entire carapace was about to crack if I fell.

My teeth chattered together. I summoned my magic and concentrated on the picture Crystal Hoof’s form I had stored. His coat wouldn’t protect me entirely, but it would at least help me make it to the dining room, where I could huddle close to one of the torches and beg some nice pony to bring me more blankets.

I needed to recoup. Winter Spirits or not, Flurry Heart would be most upset if she did not get silly faces this morning. Her morning ritual demanded silly faces after breakfast, whether I was a miserable, shivering, frozen mess of a changeling or not.

Gritting my teeth, I took a deep breath and used my transformation spell. Green fire sparked and washed over my form. Soon enough, Crystal Hoof lay huddled in the cocoon of blankets. I shivered and rubbed my new pony hooves together, the friction of my false coat gave me a measure of help in warming myself. But not nearly enough. A slight chill sent me curling up into a little ball to shield myself.

My blanket cocoon wasn’t enough. I needed my heavy blankets to combat the Winter Spirits, but they were soaking wet.

I heaved a sigh, my breath came forth in a white mist that trailed up toward the ceiling. I would just have to suffer the cold a little bit. Once I made it to the dining room, I could find some warmth. Slowly, I forced myself to stand despite my shaking knees. With another deep breath, I ventured forth—shivering and chattering—from the comfort of my bedroom and hastened to my destination.

If I moved quickly, the Winter Spirits wouldn’t be able to freeze my carapace as easily.

The guards and palace staff were in good spirits as they went about their duties. They would smile and greet one another by name, like a big family of glimmering ponies, and offer assistance when needed. Despite the biting cold against my false pony hide, I couldn’t help but smile as I watched a young mare named Tourmaline direct a stallion named Stout Heart to float a sprig of mistletoe up to hang over the archway.

Once his task was complete, Stout Heart turned to her and asked, “Is that centered right, Miss Tourmaline?”

Tourmaline tilted her head and hummed, her crystalline mane twinkled in the morning light. “I think so,” she demurred. “Thank you, Stout, you’ve been a big help. But there’s one more thing I need you for.”

His ears perked up. “Oh? What’s tha—”

She darted forward and pecked his lips. Tourmaline drew away, fixing the blushing guard with a half-lidded gaze. I will confess, they looked quite delicious at that moment, but I was far too cold to ask for a nibble.

Not to mention, Shining Armor mentioned it being rather rude to interrupt an intimate moment to ask for a bite the first time I’d done so, and I sincerely doubted Tourmaline would appreciate it either. The look on her face suggested that this request had been anything but innocent—it was carefully crafted so she had Stout Heart right where she wanted him.

I scuttled by, silently praising her for a scheme worthy of a changeling. She would have him wrapped around her glimmering hoof soon enough, I suspect.

Leaving Tourmaline to woo her stallion, I trotted down the corridor and into the main hall. Evergreen needles crunched beneath my hooves, the scent of pine wafted into my nose. If the palace looked like a cake when alight, the main hall was the epicenter of the Hearth’s Warming explosion.

A great wreath hung from the archway above the grand staircase, holly intertwined with red and gold-trimmed ribbons wound around the railings, and, at the very center of it all, stood a mighty evergreen tree decorated with multicolored lights, glass bulbs, and a gold flame at the very top to signify the Fires of Friendship, or so I was told.

But none of that mattered to me this morning, Small Pony Book. As pretty as the scene was each and every time I laid eyes upon it, it all fell by the wayside as I pressed on. I weaved my way by a trio of gossiping mares carrying a load of laundry, giving a polite, yet shivery nod in reply to their calls of “good morning.” I paused to grip one of my blankets in my teeth and tug it tighter, one last gallant effort to hold off the Winter Spirits while I searched for a nice torch to curl up beside and warm my carapace.

The instant I set hoof inside the dining room, I felt warm air rush to meet me. My eyelids fluttered shut and a smile tugged at my lips. This, Small Pony Book, was much more preferable. The Winter Spirits had clearly been chased from this room so all occupants could enjoy a meal without worrying about their frigid embrace.

Idly, I noted that I was the first to enter—which meant my hosts and Sunburst had either yet to rise (unlikely) or were trying to coax Flurry to stop flying about and come eat her oatmeal (the over-lady is a very wily filly, and her skill in evading our grasp rivals some of my own kind). Naturally, with no Royals, there was no breakfast. The cooks always waited for their loving rulers before setting the table.

Which meant I had plenty of time to warm myself. I set my sights on one of the torches lining the walls and padded over to stand beneath it. The instant I felt the gentle touch of warmth against my body, I let out a happy moan and laid down on the floor, wincing at the cool crystal. I wrapped my blankets around myself until I was in a nice, woven cocoon, enough to protect me from the cold floor and trap all the heat it could.

Phase one of my plan was complete. All I had to do next was wait either for a staff pony to come by and prod at the pile of blankets that suddenly appeared in the dining room, or just wait for my hosts. Flawless reasoning, in my opinion.

I curled up in my blankets and closed my eyes. Resting my eyes while I waited wouldn’t hurt.

Or so I hoped.

I awoke to good news and bad news. The good news was that I was no longer a frozen, pitiful, shivering mess of a changeling. The bad was that I felt the familiar burn of a fever spread beneath my carapace like wildfire.

My body was covered in a cold sweat, soaking my once dry blankets until they clung to my false coat like slime to a real pony.

I opened my mouth to whine piteously, more a hatchling’s cry for help than a former infiltrator of the Badlands Hive. Instead, a ragged groan escaped my lips. A shiver ran down through my body, drawing forth a whimper as the realization hit.

Fever. A thousand curses came to mind, each aimed at the Winter Spirits. There was no time to be sick! I was expected to entertain Flurry Heart! There were silly faces to make and “peekaboo” (my personal speciality) to play, not to mention all the decorations I needed to double check for edibility just in case Shining Armor had been lying when he told me the popcorn around the tree wouldn’t taste good by the time I got to it.

I tried to move—really, I did!—but my muscles ached, screaming for me to stay still while my body worked to fight off the fever that left me so weakened.

The familiar static tingle of unicorn magic washed over my body, my ears flicked at the sound of tinkling bells filling the air. My body began to rise off the floor with the blankets. Finally, somepony had found me. I tried to call out, but I could do little more than moan.

My rescuer stopped levitating me for a moment. There was a beat of silence. “Thorax?” Sunburst’s voice asked. He rolled me over onto my side and gently parted my blanket cocoon so he could look me in the eye. “What are you doing on the floor?”

“W-Was cold,” I murmur, clutching my blankets around my body despite their dampness. “Feel sick now.”

Concern flashed across his face. Sunburst stepped closer and maneuvered me in his magic’s grasp so he could lay his hoof upon my forehead. He winced. “You’re burning up. How long have you been laying here?”

I tried to shrug, but found myself too weak. “Not sure. My room was cold, so I came out here to lay near the torches. Waited for somepony to come by so I could ask for more blankets.”

“So you fell asleep and woke up feeling sick.” Sunburst sighed as he withdrew his hoof. “Cadence is going to be upset, you know. We tried to get you to stay in their suite’s sitting room, or at least one of the guest suits with a fireplace.”

I whined in protest. Royalty wasn’t supposed to do that for a lowly changeling like me, Small Pony Book. But my hosts don’t like that answer, they insist on doing this sort of thing whenever I’m in need.

Sunburst gave me a light bop on the forehead. “None of that,” he chided with an almost tired smile. His horn flashed brighter, he began to levitate me again. I could feel him wrap a warming spell around me as he removed my dampened blankets. “Just sit still and rest, Thorax. I’ve got you.”

I would have liked to argue, but the spell felt so good. I curled myself up and mumbled my thanks.

“No problem, Thorax. Let’s go find Cadence and see where she wants me to put you.”

That got my attention. “Not her room,” I slurred.

He chuckled. “I don’t think you’re going to have veto power. But don’t let me stop you.”

I cracked open an eye and tried to fix him with my best petulant glare, but he simply smiled. Setting my jaw, I made to argue the point further, but a tickling sensation upon my nose gave me pause. I sniffled. The tickle remained, my eyes began to feel watery and scratchy. I wrinkled my snout to try and rid myself of it, but it was stubborn.

“Thorax? What’s—”

The tickle spread throughout my snout, my eyes squeezed shut as I let out a great sneeze. I heard a yelp, then the familiar squelch-splat! of my slime hitting crystal.

For a moment, neither of us said a word. I kept my eyes shut, afraid to look and find my friend turned rescuer stuck to the wall in a mess of my slime. “Sunburst?” I called weakly.

“I’m fine,” he said with a hint of fright to his tone. “I ducked in time.”

I let out a sigh of relief. “Sorry.”

“Accidents happen, don’t worry about it. Let’s get you somewhere warm so you can rest.”

My friends are wonderful. The Winter Spirits, on the other hoof, are jerks and deserve an overdose of changeling venom.

Hopefully, the First Mother heard my plea and will move to enact vengeance on my behalf posthaste. The Wind Spirits have well-earned her wrath.

As I made mention in my previous entry, Princess Cadence is a wonderful mare, Small Pony Book. I daresay that her capacity for love is matched only by her fellow princesses, and that was a feat in and of itself.

At some point, I’d sneezed and dropped my Crystal Hoof form, giving her a look at me without anything to hide my state.

The instant she laid eyes upon me and took note of the lack of shine to my carapace, she knew something was amiss. Her demand for Sunburst to tell her came swift, she wrapped me in the soft cerulean glow of her magic and relieved him of his burden, then sent him to fetch the doctor. A warming spell was applied before I even knew it, I snuggled into my blanket cocoon and tried to rub my cheek against her aura (yes, I know that is impossible, Small Pony Book) to show my thanks.

She noticed that too and smiled despite the situation. I felt her love flow through her spells, I let out a small moan as I tasted its sweet nectar upon my tongue. She pushed open the door to the Royal Suite and trotted inside with me floating behind her.

Shining Armor stood just a few steps from the door with little Flurry riding upon his back. He blinked twice, his gaze flitted between Cadence and myself. I am not sure what he saw when he looked back at her a second time, but his face settled into a concerned frown. “What’s wrong?” he asked softly.

“Thorax is sick,” Cadence replied in a matter-of-fact tone. She paused to kiss his cheek and nuzzle Flurry, which gave me a second to feebly wave to my cooing over-lady, and continued on her trot. “I’m not sure if it’s a headcold or just a flu, but Sunburst says he’s feverish. Apparently, he was cold in his room, then came out looking for somepony to ask for blankets, and fell asleep.”

I heard Shining suck in a breath through his teeth. He heaved a sigh. “Thorax,” he said with a hint of a groan, “didn’t you run into any staff ponies?”

Well, yes. I had. But they were all so busy tending to their duties, far too busy to help a lowly changeling like myself.* I decided to explain just that. Minus the part about me being a lowly changeling.

Needless to say, neither liked it one bit. “We’ve been over this several times,” Cadence said slowly, pausing only to draw in a deep breath. Her concern was slowly bleeding into righteous indignation. She fixed me with a Look, her eyes flashed with both concern and a hint of tired irritation that made my insides squirm.

I let out a squeak as her magic guided me over to lay on the large plush red couch, my head rested upon a pillow as soft as clouds. I averted my gaze out of shame. “I don’t want to be a burden,” I said weakly. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep on the floor and get sick.”

“Nopony means to get sick, you silly colt.” My earfins twitched. She called me a colt, not a bug or a changeling. She spoke of me like one of her own kind.

Cadence’s horn flashed, the levitation spell around me flickered out as she sent a tendril of magic to open up the linen closet. A pair of thick blankets floated over and spread wide before laying upon me. I couldn’t help but hum in appreciation.

But she was not finished. Cadence laid a hoof upon my head, a frown creased her beautiful face. “Definitely feverish,” she murmured. Shaking her head, she spoke at normal volume, “This refusal to change rooms ends today, Thorax. I can’t let you stay down there in the cold any longer. You’ll be staying in our suite until you’re well, then you may pick one of the guest suites in this wing.”

I felt my heart skip a beat. Her concern and want to help were gratifying, truly. I had longed for friends such as these for so many years! But I couldn’t accept.

They are Royalty. I am not.

My face must have betrayed my feeling, for her eyes narrowed and flashed with something I saw a long time ago—the same light that flashed in her eyes before she battered Libellula and several of my kin senseless. Determination. She was going to get her way and I was going to sit on my new bed and like it.

And we both knew it.

“This is not up for debate,” she said. “I have no problem with you playing with Flurry or asking questions about our culture, or anything of the like. You have the freedom to decide what you do, but as long as you live in our palace, that has some limit. Shining and I reserve the right to step in when your wellbeing is at risk. Understood?”

I tried not to squirm beneath her gaze. My efforts were in vain. “Yes, Princess.”

“Good.” Her smile was back in place as if nothing happened. Cadence hummed a tune as she set about doting on me as though I were her own, Shining even came over and shot me a bemused smile as he joined in checking me over.

Flurry, on the other hoof, decided to investigate. With a flap of her young wings, she flew off Shining’s back and landed on the arm of the couch. Cooing curiously, she babbled in her baby talk and prodded my head. I tried to lean up to meet her eye, to smile and show her I was okay, but I couldn’t quite get there. So I settled for leaning into her tiny hoof.

It seemed to please her, but not enough. She looked to her father and pointed at me. “Tora!” she cried, demanding an explanation.

“Cousin Thorax is feeling yucky, Flurry,” Shining replied. “He needs rest so he can play another day.”

“Tora yucky?” Flurry repeated. She leaned over me, scanning as if she could tell what illness ailed her favorite changeling subject. Her bottom lip poked out in a most adorable pout, her ears drooped. She petted my headfin with her tiny hoof. “Tora,” she whispered. “Seepy Tora.”

Seepy Tora—she wanted me to sleep. That was three Royals ruling in favor of rest.

I was well and truly relieved of my duty to entertain my over-lady. With a shaky smile, I nodded and closed my eyes, and let her pet my fin as I drifted off to sleep.

Silly faces would happen once I awoke from my slumber. Double my usual silliness as payment for the delay.

*Cadence was most displeased when she saw me write this, which means that I will receive a Lecture (her tone suggests the capitalization is required) once I finish this entry. Evidently, this is called “self-depreciation” and she “dealt with enough of that when Twilight was a filly and when she was trying to get Shining to stop making excuses and date her."

Author's Notes:

Thank you for reading through Thorax's journal! If you like what I'm doing, consider donating to my Patreon.

3. My First Hearth's Warming

Dear Small Pony Book,

I must confess that my hosts’ insistence to move to one of the upper rooms proved most beneficial. Over the past several days, the warmth of their fireplace protected me from further torment at the hooves of the Winter Spirits, and sweet nectar of the love they offered me kept me strong despite my illness. However, my fever was persistent, and my sneeze and cold sweat had brought a few other symptoms along with them.

Namely, a dizzying headache and the hacking, phlegm and slime-filled cough as my glands overproduced in anticipation of a natural need to cocoon while I recovered. Warm room and thick blankets or not, my body felt the best way to preserve itself was a long nap while my hive mates cared for me. Changing my lifestyle and acquiring friends were one thing, but instincts would take far longer to follow suit.

My life for the days leading up to Hearth’s Warming were mostly filled with hours of sleeping, gazing up at the ceiling, and counting all the colorful ornaments Cadence had hung from the miniature tree she had brought in and set in the corner for me to enjoy.

“I know you love the colors,” she had said, “so I thought you might like something to keep your spirits up while you rest.”

A token gesture, but one I appreciated very much.

Aside from a near disaster when I toppled over as I tried to sneak my way downstairs to play peek-a-boo with Flurry while Cadence and Shining were busy in Court (and a subsequent informative Lecture from my hosts at dinner that night), everything went well. I was awaken on Hearth’s Warming morn by a giggling, babbling Flurry Heart flying over to land upon my chest and press her tiny hoof against my snout.

I blinked to clear my vision and gave a tired, sickly smile. “Good morning, Flurry,” I said softly.

“Tora, up!” she cried gleefully, before hugging me around my neck and pressing her cheek against mine. “Tora, Ar Mor! Ar Mor!”

Wrinkling my snout, I wrapped my hooves around her midsection and lifted her off me so I could look her in the eye. “Ar Mor?” I repeated. This was a new phrase from my over-lady. She is still learning the most basic parts Equish, so her speech is comprised mostly of the beginning of the words she means, coupled with babble. Which left the rest of us to play translator with the excitable little filly. “What is Ar Mor, Flurry?”

She pouted, as she often does when I don’t understand her words—in her own little mind, her diction is nothing short of flawless. We all simply lack the ability to comprehend it. Flurry Heart flicked her tail. “Ar Mor, Tora!” she said as if that explained everything. “Ar Mor, yay!”

Ar Mor, yay. Well, at least I knew she was happy. Now, the question was which sort of happy: the kind when she got sweets? Or the kind that came with a big mess?

Cadence’s bell-like laugh made me flick my earfins. I turned toward my hosts’ bedroom door to find her and Shining Armor watching us, both with smiles gracing their faces.

“I believe,” Cadence said, her voice tinged with unhidden mirth, “Flurry is trying to tell you that it’s Hearth’s Warming Morning, Thorax.”

“Ar Mor, Tora!” Flurry confirmed with a wave of her hooves.

I nodded in comprehension. “Ah. Of course. How silly of me.” My smile returned, I prodded Flurry’s belly, a trick I knew would draw a squeal before she dissolved into peals of laughter at my mercy. I ceased my efforts after only a few seconds so I could turn away and cough into my pillow, which drew a coo and a nuzzle.

“Tora yucky?” she asked sadly.

“Yes, Flurry. I’m still sick.”

Flurry drew back to fix me with her most pitiful wide-eyed stare, her bottom lip began to quiver. “Ar Mor!” she huffed. “No yuck, Ar Mor!”

No yuck, Ar Mor. My best guess was that she meant to give a command along the lines of “you can’t be sick, it’s Hearth’s Warming!” as if that would make me spring up from the couch with boundless energy. And, to be fair, I was tempted to at least put on the act just to make her happy.

A matching Look—capitalization required—from Cadence and Shining stopped me before I could even attempt it. I forced a smile and a weak chuckle.

Shining shook his head, smiling to himself in turn. “Come on, troublemakers,” he said, wrapping his magic around Flurry and lifting her onto his back. “Thorax, do you feel okay walking downstairs with your blankets, or do you need help.”

I rolled off the couch almost automatically, hastening to show that I was ready to serve as ever. The room wobbled a bit, but I beat back the dizzy feeling and stood tall, blankets and all. “I’ll manage.”

He looked a bit uncertain for a moment, but nodded. “Okay. Well, follow us. I’m pretty sure there should be a couple presents for you under the tree.”

Truth be told, I thought I heard wrong. I blinked twice, then tilted my head. “What for me?”

“Presents,” he repeated.

Presents? I wracked my brain. From past infiltrations, I recalled that ponies often gave gifts to loved ones on their birthday, but that didn’t make sense. It wasn’t my birthday. Changelings don’t even celebrate those. “Why?”

He shared a look with Cadence—one I recognized quite well. It was their silent “Thorax isn’t getting it, how do we explain” look.

I must admit, I have far too much experience seeing that look. But I maintain that it is no fault of mine that my education on pony culture is very much from the outside looking in. Still, I couldn’t blame them for being a bit unsure of how to explain things without treating me like a foal. They tried, at least, but sometimes it would just end up that way out of necessity.

Cadence broke the silence first. “It’s part of the tradition,” she said, “to exchange gifts with family, friends, and loved ones as a reminder of the bonds that helped the Three Tribes ward off the Wendigos before the founding of Equestria.”

Immediately, I liked this tradition. Anything that chased away the Winter Spirits had to be good. It was simple logic.

Still, I had to work this out for myself. Changelings had a similar thing, but it wasn’t around this time of year and the presents were … well, food. (Don’t look at me like that, Small Pony Book. I am trying to be delicate.)

“So, if presents are for loved ones, friends, and family … wait.” My earfins perked up. Despite the prevailing feeling of fever, I grinned. I was certain I figured it out. “I have one from Spike?”

Shining smirked. “Well, you’re not wrong. But you’re also not right.”

My smile faltered. “Huh?”

“You have a gift from Spike, yes.” He raised his brows. “But you don’t have one present.”

I stared. That didn’t make any semblance of sense.

My confusion was written plain for Cadence to see, as evident by the way she brought a hoof to her forehead and clipped Shining’s ear with a swipe of her wing. “Now you’re just confusing him.”

“Oh, come on! Let me have a little fun with him!”

“You’re terrible,” she said, smiling despite the nature of her words. Cadence turned her soulful purple eyes upon me and gestured toward the door. “Why don’t you come downstairs and see for yourself?”

The prospect of receiving a gift from my very first friend all but banished the aching muscles and dizzying headache. My sniffle and cough persisted, but I couldn’t have possibly cared any less. I was, for lack of better term, giddy.

Spike sent me a present! Spike sent me a present!

I could have … I don’t know, done something! I could’ve burrowed a hive in the side of the mountain all by myself! There! That’s a difficult thing that requires a lot of love and effort.

Anyway, I was giddy, but I managed to withhold it enough to descend the stairs with my hosts and not do anything too silly.*

As we came to the main hall, I noticed immediately that there had been a rather obvious change in the décor. Boxes wrapped in bright reds, greens, blues, and even pinks and adorned with ribbon sat around the tree, sprawling across the floor. There were five cushions positioned around the tree for each of us. Sunburst stood nearby, humming a tune as he worked to move them around and place them in some sort of order.

My eyes were drawn to the hat he wore on his head. It was a funny, fluffy red hat that looked more like a sock and tapered off to a point at the end. The image of a flame, the same as the one atop the tree, was sewn onto the hat’s front along with the words “the fires of friendship burn bright in our hearts” in elegant cursive.

He looked up just in time to see us reach the bottom step. His lips curved into a warm smile. “Good morning, everypony. Happy Hearth’s Warming.”

We each greeted him in kind (Flurry tried her best) and trotted over to join him.

Sunburst turned to Cadence first, as she was the de facto head of house. The whole being one of the Crown Princesses carried over to the domestic life, which, honestly, made perfect sense to me. “All presents are organized by recipient and accounted for,” he reported dutifully. “Should I pass them out, or would you prefer to?”

“You may if you like,” she replied. She sat down on the center cushion and held out her hooves to accept Flurry from Shining as he scooted another nearer and took his place at her right side.

I couldn’t help but note how picturesque they looked. The Royal Family of the Crystal Empire, all happy and huddled together by their Hearth’s Warming Tree. Though I was hardly one to look at newspapers or any of those beauty magazines I’d seen Cadence read (as if she would ever need tips, the silly mare), I imagined that many an aspiring young photographer or painter would love to capture such a scene.

For a moment, I felt distinctly out of place. Such celebrations in the Badlands Hive were different. They were celebrations after a good hunt, or the birth of a large group of hatchlings. Low-class infiltrators and weaker fighters weren’t permitted to sit anywhere near the Queen and her entourage.

Shining Armor caught my eye. He arched his brow and subtly jerked his head toward the cushion to his right, his meaning plain: Sit with us. You belong.

I obeyed without question. Even if it felt unusual, there was a not-so-small part of me that felt relieved that my place was so consistently reaffirmed. Not to mention, I didn’t want to cause any issues. Not on one of their holidays.

The First Mother knows they’d taken enough of a burden just allowing me into their home.** They didn’t need me making another mess.

Once I was in place, Sunburst began to pass gifts out. He began, of course, with our youngest member. “Let’s see what we’ve got here,” he called with a big smile on his face as he shifted through a few of the smaller boxes. “I think I might have something for a little filly named Flurry Heart!”

The excited gasp and babble he drew from my over-lady made it nigh impossible not to laugh. I managed to shift one of my blankets up to hide my smile, lest Flurry think her favorite changeling was mocking her. Though, the way she waved her tiny hooves, eager to accept it nearly did me in.

Sunburst made a show of checking the tag, then grinned. “Yup! This is for Flurry from Aunt Twilight and Spike, all the way in Ponyville!” He floated the box over into her waiting hooves.

With a delighted squeal, Flurry tore at the wrapping as best she could. She took to it clumsily, no doubt a bit hampered by the fact that it was about half as big as she was, but she persisted in her valiant effort.

Though not without a subtle bit of help from daddy. I noticed a razor thin tendril of Shining’s magic slice through a few strategic places with deft precision to give her something to grip. Our eyes met, Shining waggled his ears and shot me a wink.

Once Flurry had freed her gift from its wrapping, she enlisted her mother’s help to pry open the box. She reached inside. With a gasp, she withdrew her hoof and pulled out a yellow unicorn doll with tiny blue beads for eyes and a teal mane. Flurry squealed and hugged it tight, snuggling it for all she was worth as she rubbed its cheek against hers. From its left hind hoof, a card dangled bearing a name written in neat script:

Party Pants.

Cadence nuzzled her daughter’s mane. “What a nice dolly, isn’t she, Flurry? Do you like Auntie Twilight and Spike’s gift?”

Flurry’s only response was to snuggle Party Pants tighter and croon something in her baby talk which I took to mean “yes, I love it and I love them for giving it to me.” My over-lady was very expressive with her babbling.

“We’ll have to send her a thank you card,” Shining said, chuckling. “Party Pants is definitely a hit.”

“Agreed.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a box float over to me. I turned to fix it with a quizzical stare, then turned my gaze upon Sunburst.

He simply smiled. “That one’s from me. Happy Hearth’s Warming, Thorax.”

I blinked twice, unsure of how to reply save for a rather lame “Thank you, Sunburst.” Curious, I sliced through the wrapping with my fangs (far more efficient than hooves or flinging spells around) until Sunburst’s gift yielded its bearing to me.

I popped open the top of a cardboard box and found myself met with an orange crystal which had the image of a flame emblazoned upon it. I tilted my head, carefully lifting it out of the box. “What is it?”

Sunburst rubbed the back of his head. “It’s a Warming Crystal. They’re a rather rare type of crystal sold in some of the shops on Kunzite Street near the park. All you have to do is channel a little bit of magic into it, and it’ll head right up and keep you warm. Thought it might help for the rest of the season.”

My earfins perked up. I eyed the piece of crystal and focused my magic, sending a tendril of green aura into the shard. Sure enough, I felt warmth begin to emit as if a miniature campfire were contained within. I grinned and slipped it into my blanket cocoon to aid in my ongoing battle against the Winter Spirits and my illness. “Thank you, Sunburst. I will get quite a bit of use out of this.”

We all shared a laugh together after that. Hindsight is wonderful in that way—it turned a thing that had me in dire trouble with my hosts into something we could all look back upon and laugh.

The present opening continued. Shining Armor greatly enjoyed the stack of first edition comic books—whatever those are—from Twilight and Spike (they do things in pairs, apparently), though nowhere near as much as he loved the portrait to Brigadier Shining Valor, his namesake, which Cadence and his parents worked in tandem to find. I was uncertain who Shining Valor was, but I gleaned he was a brilliant military mind from the excited, rapid-fire babble Shining and Cadence shared.

We changelings do love a good tale, so I resolved myself to ask his later. A pony of such high stature should have one worth listening to. Flawless logic, if I say so myself.

Cadence, on the other hoof, absolutely loved the wonderful sapphire necklace Shining purchased for her. Flurry approved as well, mostly because she so loved the way it sparkled in the light. She did not, however, love the price Shining gave when she asked how much it cost, to which he simply grinned and replied, “You’re my wife, I can spoil you with my money all I want. Deal with it.”

The Look she shot him was somewhat familiar to me—it spoke of retribution at a later time, but in a way I am not sure I feel comfortable explaining to you, Small Pony Book. You may be far too young for that sort of thing. In fact, I confess that I felt a might fidgety when I noticed the smoldering Look she aimed his way.

Averting my gaze to Sunburst as he opened a rather thick book called Chasing Star Swirl’s Shadow: Exploring the Trials and Tribulations of the Lone Time Wizard seemed like a welcome distraction. And the way his face lit up was well worth it. If not for Cadence’s gentle reminder, he might have dashed off to write a letter to Starlight thanking her without so much as looking at the rest.

Next came gifts from the Eternal Sisters, Princesses Celestia and Luna. The Sister of Day saw fit to gift her favored grandniece with an creamy pink blanket that felt as soft as clouds and was charmed to keep her warm even on the coldest nights. I tested it myself by rubbing my cheek against it, and confirmed what Flurry Heart and Party Pants already knew as they snuggled with their new “bankie.”

Not to be outdone by her senior, the Sister of Night had fashioned an lovely silver mobile. A crescent moon served as the centerpiece, with shooting stars and constellations hanging from each arm. A note from the Princess of Night herself told us that the mobile was enchanted to change its displays with the season and play soothing melodies that would help ward off nightmares.

In my opinion, the younger of the Eternal Sisters had won based on the splendor of her gift, but then I had to consider how the elder found such perfect fabric for Flurry’s new blanket. I ended up declaring it a tie, as there was simply too much love in their gifts.

I should know. I could taste it radiating from them all.

My hosts surprised Sunburst and I with a pair of gifts. He received a new crystal lens telescope he had been eying in the shop windows for the past several months, as well as—to my amusement—a pink umbrella hat.

“We figured you might like something to protect you from Flurry’s oatmeal showers,” Cadence explained with a sly grin, “since you’re not quite as fast with shield spells as Shining and me.”

The look on his face had me laughing for quite some time afterward. Right up until my cough came back.

As I looked at the present in my hooves, I found myself feeling a bit uncomfortable. It was like this strange creature were nibbling on my insides, I felt the urge to squirm in place.

It grew worse as I unwrapped the first package and discovered that Cadence and Shining saw fit to get me a full set of winter clothing, including a teal scarf with my name stitched into the end and a set of boots. The second present, however, was a curious little thing—a yellow rubber duck roughly the size of my hoof.

“Something you can chew on, since you won’t stop testing things to see if they’re edible,” Shining said, his eyes dancing with humor. “Figured it might entertain you a little.”

An odd mix of curiosity and guilt settled into my chest. I leaned down to take the rubber duck in my mouth and, after a moment of eying my hosts, bit down on it.

Squeak!

I dropped it in shock, my ears perked up at the sound. I took it in hoof and squeezed it, prompting another shrill squeak from somewhere in its yellow belly. It was responsive! A grin tugged at my lips. I thanked them profusely and placed it beside my winter clothes. There would be plenty of time to play bite the squeaky duck toy later. Perhaps I could coax Flurry into throwing it to simulate a chase …

The strange feeling came back in force. They had each gone out to get me something nice. Yet as they continued passing out gifts, that urge to squirm and avoid their gaze grew stronger. I felt guilty. Each of them had found me something, yet I had nothing for them.

The four before me, along with Spike, Twilight, and Starlight, were the ones I held dearest, but I had not gone and found anything to show my affection as they had.

Then Sunburst floated a small box wrapped in purple paper with a green bow. The nibbly feeling spread throughout my stomach, even into my chest. I knew who it was from before Sunburst read the card. “To Thorax,” he read aloud, “from Spike, Twilight, and Starlight.”

All three of them? I thought morosely. That made six. Six friends who had found gifts to show their affection for me, who would all receive nothing in return to show mine for them.

Guilt, I found, was not an emotion I wanted to familiarize myself with. There was no guilt in the hive, Small Pony Book. We were taught to take what we wished from ponies, for they were but food or entertainment, or we did as the Queen commanded.

My first run-in with guilt, though, did lead to me gaining friends. How could I not upon seeing their bonds that day? And my second led me to save my first friend from a most untimely demise in my old cave.

Still, I did not like guilt. I very much wished to disassociate myself from it as I sliced through the wrapping paper of the large box, then repeated the process to get through the tape.

A small green book with the title Equestria Through the Ages: Stories From the Three Tribes to the Crystal Return written in shimmering gold script. A small notecard rested atop the cover, along with a short message:

Dear Thorax,

Cadence and Shining mentioned that you’ve been asking a lot of questions about pony culture as you try to get acclimated to living with them. This book isn’t nearly a comprehensive guide on the ins and outs, but a lot of what we place value in comes from our history, as is true with any race. Starlight and I felt this might help you quite a lot, especially if you enjoy a good story.

I hope you have a wonderful Hearth’s Warming. It’s a pleasure to call you my friend.

Sincerely,

Twilight Sparkle

P.S. If you ever want to visit, have Shining send a letter. Spike would love to see you again, and so would I.

P.P.S. Spike made the frame himself, with a bit of help from another friend of mine.

Frame? I tilted my head. What ever could she be talking about? I lifted the book up to show off to my hosts and relayed the content of Twilight’s note, which brought a bright smile to their faces.

“That’s actually a great idea,” Shining praised. “You’d probably like some of Clover’s stories—especially the ones where she and Commander Hurricane have to work together.”

Cadence nodded. “She did love her tricks, and Hurricane was always there to back her up if words failed.” She paused a moment to catch Flurry before she flew off with Party Pants and her new blanket, then added, “Perhaps we could all read it together sometime.”

Yes, together. That would be nice. I could use that as a means to convey my affection, since I had failed so miserably in my part in the Hearth’s Warming present exchange tradition. An excellent plan, wouldn’t you agree, Small Pony Book?

I set the book aside for a moment so that I could retrieve Spike’s gift. I found myself met with a curious sight: a rectangular object wrapped in brown paper, along with yet another notecard. My heart leapt into my throat, I couldn’t help but give my wings an excited buzz. It was a message from Spike.

Dear Thorax,

Happy Hearth’s Warming! I hope your first time celebrating is going well. Er, as well as it can given that you’ve been sick, anyway. Maybe next time listen to Cadence and Shining when they tell you to change rooms, eh? Holidays are decidedly less fun when you’re too sick to enjoy them, especially Hearth’s Warming. That said, maybe next year you can visit us so we can hang out again. Or maybe we can come up. Or go to Canterlot. Or … something.

Stop grinning, I’m not good at this.

I made no such attempt to hide the grin that spread across my face. “No,” I said, “you are not, but neither am I. But I won’t stop grinning anyway.”

Friends or not, I am a changeling. Deception, trickery, and teasing are part of who I am and always will be—it’s just a matter of how I choose to apply it. Silly faces, for example, are a wonderful way to tease Flurry and entertain her at the same time. Especially if I make “dada” look a bit silly.

In any case, I continued reading.

Anyway, I talked to Rarity and she helped me decorate a frame for this thing. Thought you might like a copy of it too. Who knows? Maybe when I finally hit my growth spurt (one day, I will look down upon Rainbow Dash and ask her how the weather is down there) and you … uh … hit yours (or are you already at full height? That sounds like a question Twilight would ask, but I honestly don’t know) we can look back and remember the days when we were smaller.

Best wishes and Happy Hearth’s Warming again!

Spike

That cursed guilty feeling began to chew on my insides again, I could almost feel actual teeth. Painful, yet cold, just like the Winter Spirits’ embrace.

Almost automatically, I opted to employ my fangs to slice the twine that bound the paper around his gift. Spike claimed that he and Rarity (another friend, perhaps) had made the frame of whatever this was, so it was best to leave hooves out of the equation.

Hooves did not do well with tiny knots. Had I not worried that my illness might make shapeshifting a bit dodgy, I might have tried shifting into a copy of Spike himself to use his claws. Fortunately, he had not used tape to seal the edges of the paper. So it came apart with a simple brush of my left hoof across its face.

The paper split to reveal a picture. My heart leapt again, I knew the scene quite well. Spike and I were standing shoulder-to-headfin (he is quite a bit shorter than me), each wearing bright smiles on our faces. The shimmering posts and archways of the Imperial Railway served as the backdrop for a rather heartfelt goodbye. I could almost feel his shoulder against my thigh as he leaned against me in one of those “cool” poses.

A little voice in the back of my head reminded me to check the frame. After all, he made it himself.

The frame was wooden, as most ponies so loved to fashion their things, and painted a green like fresh cocoon slime. Or, perhaps, Spike’s fins. Or even both.

There was a little mini-me constructed with black and sky blue art paper pasted to the top-right corner. The tiny Thorax wore a little smile, his wings were frozen in mid buzz. Upon closer inspection, I noticed that Spike had even taken the time to give him proper dorsal fins as well as punch perfect holes in his hooves. It was a real (almost) miniature changeling.

A miniature Spike made of the same sort of paper, though green and a light purple, stood on the other side of the frame. My friend’s tiny doppelgänger wore the same smile as mine, and raised his clawed paw up to wave at me.

I sat staring at the picture and frame for several minutes. It was so simple, but there was just so much in it. We were both happy, even though we parted that day. I could still feel and taste the love he offered me, the sweet, fluffy taste of friendship. The same I tasted whenever Cadence, Shining, or Sunburst offered me a meal.

And I had gotten him nothing to show that his feelings were shared. My heart sank in time with my drooping ears. Did that make me a bad friend? Would he feel saddened that his friend hadn’t bothered to send him even the tiniest trinket to show affection?

My face betrayed my emotions yet again. A gentle hoof touched my shoulder. “What’s wrong, Thorax?” Shining asked softly. “Is something bothering you?”

I swallowed a mouthful of saliva, and a little bit of slime. My glands were overproducing thanks to my cold, which did not make for a fun mess for the palace staff to clean when my coughing and sneezing turned violent. A not so small part of me wanted to say that yes, there was something horribly wrong. I had failed as a friend to participate in the present exchange with all of those I held dearest.

Instead, I forced myself to shake my head. “No,” I said, letting my eyes wander over the picture once again. The bright smile Spike wore that day was infectious, even this morning. “I love it.”

I mentally added Spike’s name to the list of friends I had to find presents for, along with Twilight and Starlight. Maybe, just maybe, I could write him a letter explaining my folly and convey my promise to make it up to him.

Until then, I could only clutch his present in my hooves and smile while I thought about Twilight’s offer. Spending time with my first friend again would be wonderful.

*Hello, Small Pony Book. Shining Armor here. About that whole “not doing anything too silly” thing. Hahaha—no. This goofball tried to prance down the stairs and nearly took a tumble down a flight. Fortunately, Cadence caught him and floated him the rest of the way down. Your owner didn’t withhold his excitement any more than my daughter withholds her want to shower everypony with oatmeal. That aside, I’m glad he enjoyed today. He needed a little reminder of where he stood with all of us. Happy Hearth’s Warming, Small Pony Book. And you as well when you read this, Thorax.

**A welcome guest is not a burden. Least of all, one who regularly helps with Flurry and is relatively well-behaved. Refusal to relocate to a nicer room until he was sick as a dog notwithstanding. No, you’re not living that down.

***Also, Spike’s birthday is in two months and he happens to love gems. We have a surplus of those here. I’m sure you can figure out something to do with that information. Cadence and I are available to help if you need any, so feel free to ask. If it makes you feel better, yes, that is an order—ask for help if you need it, and you shall receive.

As I write this, you’re on the couch entertaining Flurry with your silly faces, so I decided to let you slide on our usual review discussion today. However, I wanted to take a chance to apologize. Cadence and I completely neglected to let you know about the present exchange portion of Hearth’s Warming, and neither of us imagined that you would ever feel so upset at having not gotten Spike a present. We’ve sent Starlight, Twilight, and he a letter explaining our mistake. If you’d like, we can make time to find something for them once you’re feeling better. Not your fault at all.

These first few months with you around have been a pleasure, buddy. Here’s to the next year ahead of us.

Shining Armor.

P.S. Make me look too silly when you do those silly faces and you’ll find out why Spike and Twily quiver when ponies mention water balloons.

Author's Notes:

Ironically, I was sick on Christmas Day.

Also, one of Thorax's gifts was a reference to a rather popular story about an out of sorts changeling living amongst ponies. I'm sure you'll be able to figure it out if you take the time to look, unless you lot are a silly bunch with Idol Hooves.

Play me out, Johnny!

Thank you for reading through Thorax's journal! If you like what I'm doing, consider donating to my Patreon.

4. Learning Days

Dear Small Pony Book,

I managed to finally defeat my ailment over the course of a restful weekend (not counting several rigorous sessions of peek-a-boo and silly faces with my over-lady), so I leapt up from my makeshift bed with all the energy and vitality I had been robbed over the course of the holiday week. My own little way of socking the Winter Spirits in their stupid faces.

I truly hope the First Mother got her fangs into their necks. And I hope she took a good chunk out of each of them.

Stupid Wendigos. If there is one creature in this realm I detest with all my heart and every inch of my carapace, it is they.

Today was one of the set days my generous hosts set aside to discuss various subjects of my education. I have come to call them Learning Days, for I find that I end up learning quite a bit more than they do whenever we have these talks.

That little bit about why I was not to go up to a couple in the midst of a display of affection and tell them that they looked delicious and that I would be most gratified if they would allow me to feed upon them happened in a special Learning Night session. Never before had I imagined that this might be thought of as “weird” or “creepy” to them. It was no small mercy that the couple in question happened to be my hosts, so they were less offended, more amused.

They are most understanding of my lack of social graces. A simple apology and sincere promise upon my Name and Eggshell—two very important things to us changelings, but I will explain those at a later time—is usually enough. I must confess, this is a very welcome change from the Badlands Hive.

Such a faux pas, as some ponies call them, would earn me a beating or two from one of the higher ups in the Swarm. Or, if you were particularly inept or just impressively unlucky, the Queen herself.

The Queen had a wicked backhoof. My jaw grew quite familiar with the sensation, and I lost more than one set of fangs to her ire. Not fun. I much prefer Princess Cadence’s stern Lecture or Shining Armor’s hoof squeezing my shoulder while he explains where I went wrong and requests that I not repeat my mistakes (if they’re capital B Bad enough).

My Learning Days typically take place in the dining room around lunchtime. That way, they could enjoy some food while they taught me, and then I could receive a treat of my own.

Of all the ponies I have fed upon, my hosts’ are the most delicious of all. Not to mention the most filling. Sunburst is rather tasty as well, but the love around him is that of friendship or brotherhood. Both are certainly good and make a fine meal, but romantic love, even when it’s not directed at a changeling, is …

I have seen Spike eat gems. He claims that they taste better than any substance he has ever encountered. I do not like gems, Small Pony Book, and neither do ponies. But to dragons, gems are delicious. That is how love is to us. I’m sorry if that seems like an odd way to explain it, but that’s the best I can do for you without knowing what your kind feeds upon. When you feel inclined to share this information with me, I would be happy to draw a comparison.

Please understand that I do not intend to pressure you into this at all. I am a patient changeling.

Today, it was just Princess Cadence and I. Upon entry, I fixed her with a quizzical look. I confess that I was a bit concerned as to where Shining Armor was, and found myself wondering if it would please her if I went off to search for her mate. They certainly brightened up whenever they were together, so naturally they should seek to achieve this during break times.

Changeling intuition is rarely wrong, Small Pony Book. Remember that.

My brilliant host, Princess Cadence, was wise to the way my mind worked, though. She smiled and trotted over to greet me with a hug. “There was a little bit of an incident on the training grounds today. Shining is going to be busy disciplining a couple recruits for mouthing off and not paying attention.”

Of course. I had forgotten that Shining was sometimes occupied outside his schedule due to his duties in overseeing the Imperial and Royal Guard branches in the Crystal Empire. Still, I frowned. Subordinates should not be “mouthing off” to superiors. I knew that and I was, for all intents and purposes, a terrible member of the Swarm. Discipline was paramount.

She caught my look and gave me a little tap on the end of my snout, which made me wrinkle my nose and cross eye eyes. “None of that grumpiness, buster. Shining might like to play and joke with us, but he’s a big stallion and knows how to get his troops in line. If I know him, they regretted it the instant he laid eyes upon them. In the meantime,” she paused to release her embrace and bump hips with me. “You and I have some learning time scheduled. And lunch for both of us, if your tastes trend toward my love today.”

“Your love is always appetizing, Princess,” I replied eagerly. I am unashamed, there is no reason to feel it. She offered. “I am honored that you share it with me.”

“So very polite. I hope your manners rub off on Flurry when she’s older.” Princess Cadence cast me a sly wink. “When she figures out that oatmeal is supposed to go in her belly, not on her caretakers.”

“I think I speak for everyone when I say we are all waiting for that day.”

“Quite.” With a fluff of those gorgeous pink and purple tinged feathers, she took her seat at the table and gestured for me to sit on her right—the side I’d learned was reserved for family or close friends, when it came to pony royalty. I sat beside her and readied for my lesson. Once she’d made herself, she gestured to a few pieces of paper and a pencil she set before me. “You remember we spoke about testing some of your knowledge last time, right?”

I nodded. The conversation was quite vivid in my memory. Both she and Shining mention a want to see just how much I remembered from our chats, as well as some of the things I might know or not know that hadn’t come up. A wide range of subjects.

Princess Cadence tapped the papers. “I’ve come up with a quick test for you to take. You can have as long as you need to finish it, and I’m not going to be angry or lecture you if you miss a few questions. This is just to see what you can show me you know.”

It seemed simple enough. A quick glance to the front page revealed a few numbers problems and a question about alchemy—or chemistry, as was the appropriate term unless magic came into play to make the reactions occur. That was another explanation from a past discussion. I believe Princess Twilight was present for that one. Yes, she was. She explained the distinction.

I wonder if Princesses Celestia and Luna are as kind and patient as their younger counterparts. The former must be, after all, she taught both of them. I’m not as familiar with Princess Luna’s recent history, but Shining assures me that she is “a softy once you get to know her.”

That aside, I was confident. While changeling education was very basic beyond how to hunt, infiltrate, and maintain our castle, we knew numbers and chemistry well enough.

If that was all I had to face, this test would be delightfully straightforward and I could impress my hosts with what a good subject I am. Then maybe we can discuss how I can benefit their kingdom beyond looking after Flurry Heart.

“Okay,” I said, taking the pencil in hoof and beginning the first question. “Easy enough.”

I didn’t suspect a thing about the way she hummed in approval and smiled while a staff pony brought her tea.

Why should I? Princess Cadence is a generous host and a benevolent ruler. She would never trick me.

I was a fool.

Princess Cadence is indeed a generous host and benevolent ruler, Small Pony Book. Never doubt that for a second, even as I lament my failure to see through her calm smile and sipping of her favorite tea—Earl Neigh, I think, by the scent and use of cream and sugar.

But she had indeed tricked me. The Princess of Love, the mare who embodies everything about the bond ponies share with family, friends, and lovers, is a wily mare. Wily, cunning, and with more magic in a lock of her mane than most changelings would ever know what to do with in their lives.

Remind me to tell you what she did to Duplicitous. I’ll give you a preview: we had to spend hours healing his back before he could even lift his head for a drink of water.

In any case, the numbers problems and chemistry had been a ruse. Oh, they were more of a challenge than I anticipated. A little figuring went into deciphering how I was to “find x” until she helpfully explained that she wanted the missing value. Easy enough.

The chemistry was challenging after the first problem. I confess I have utterly no idea what the difference between types of bonds or electron levels or why in the First Mother’s immaculate gleaming fangs alkali metals didn’t react well with water—all I knew was that some of them could be used for the Swarm’s benefit.

But then we came to history. Now, I would like to preface this by saying that, contrary to what the Queen might say, I am not an imbecile. I am not a good fighter either, I’m a better infiltrator and hunter. I can catch fish and small animals easily. I know changeling history, Small Pony Book. I know the history of the Badlands Hive like the back of my—oh, dear, that hole wasn’t there before. I must have added one between shifts again. Silly me.

Pony history, however, is different. It is, in a word, far too linear for my taste. I know that there were once three tribes that united, then the Princesses of the Sun and Moon ruled together until the latter, leaving the former to rule (mostly) alone for a thousand years, with Princess Cadence by her side for the latter decades and Princess Luna returning shortly after. And, of course, Princess Twilight now joining them.

That is just about the extent of my knowledge on history. I have utterly no idea who the Founders Six were or why Star Swirl the Bearded is renowned as the foremost magical mind Equestria had ever seen until the aforementioned Princess Twilight began her studies. I had no idea that the Crystal Empire fell because of a curse laid upon the land by King Sombra, who would rather see his domain fall to frozen wasteland than let Princesses Celestia and Luna defeat him and take over.

Sadly, that was only the beginning of my shame. Forgive me, Small Pony Book. I am, to put it bluntly, a blithering dunce when it comes to pony customs. A fact that tormented my poor, changeling mind while Princess Cadence furrowed her brows and wrinkled her snout at one of my answers.

I knew almost instantly that she had gotten to the one about how to address a pony who had made a mistake in a task I’d requested. I wilted, waiting for her question.

It wasn’t a long wait. “Thorax,” she began slowly, “I want you to understand that I’m not mad or disappointed in you in the least bit before I ask this. You do know that, don’t you?”

I didn’t, but I nodded anyway.

She took a deep breath. “Okay. Why do you think it’s acceptable to ‘sink my fangs into the offender’s neck as punishment,’ if you wouldn’t mind explaining?”

My mouth tasted like sandpaper—please don’t ask about my experience testing that for edibility. “That was one of the ways we disciplined in the hive.” I squirmed. “You … I won’t explain what our venom does. Out of respect.”

“I know it hurts quite a lot and paralyzes for some time, which is why I’m asking,” Princess Cadence said. “So, that is not how you would like to deal with such a thing?”

“It’s what I learned to do and, admittedly, have done.” Her frown deepened. I let my earfins droop. “Isn’t that sort of like what Shining does when his troops misbehave?”

“Shining doesn’t bite them,” she replied, the corners of her mouth twitched upward. “Nor does he kick, punch, or use magic on them unless they have a rather impressive lack of self-preservation and try attacking him.”

I couldn’t help but chitter in amusement. Shining Armor was an impressively gifted unicorn, and a mighty warrior. “Surely no pony is that stupid.”

“It’s happened three times since he made captain.”

I feel no shame in admitting that I almost swallowed my tongue in surprise. “Wha—who would—why?”

“Some ponies think that just because the’s the youngest captain in three centuries and that he was dating me before he made it means he can’t fight.” A wicked gleam flashed in her eyes. “Shining Armor took combat lessons from a general by the name of Perun—a pegasus who hit like a stampede of buffalo. He made sure everypony under his watch could fight like no other, and made doubly sure no unicorn under his command became too reliant on magic. Shining hasn’t had a recruit test him since he put the third on the mend with a broken shoulder.”

A shudder ran down my back. “What did that one do?”

“He insulted Shining’s mother. He also made the mistake of taking the first swing.”

I trust I don’t need to detail why that qualified as an impressive show of idiocy and lack of self-preservation. I believe it falls under something we in the Swarm called “too dumb to live.”

Still, I had to ask. “So what does he do usually?”

“A lot of running, a lot of extra workout drills, and all while he makes sure they know exactly how he feels about their conduct.” Princess Cadence heaved a sigh and ran a hoof through her beautiful mane. “There is no hitting unless somepony takes a swing at him. At all.” She fixed me with a Look. I squirmed. “There will be no biting unless somepony threatens you or Flurry Heart. Understood?”

I nodded, but added, “Or you. Or Shining. Or Sunburst.”

She sighed again, but this time with a smile. “I’ll accept that. Thank you, Thorax.”

“Of course, Princess. I am pleased to offer my services, and shall happily sink my fangs into any who should threaten the Royal Family.”

Her left ear twitched. For a moment, I thought her smile looked a little bit strained. “Let’s move on to the next one,” she said quickly, averting her gaze to my test again. I wondered if I upset her, but she spoke up before I could inquire. “Now, this one,” she began, “I have to correct you on. Not really because you’re wrong from your point of view, but because it would be rather … well, do you remember that talk we had with interrupting couples?”

Again, I nodded. “You said I should not do so unless I was invited.” Confused, I tilted my head. “I’ve been meaning to ask, if I were invited, would that mean I were joining the couple? Do ponies do that too?”

“Sometimes, but that’s beside the point.” Her left ear twitched again. Was there an itch bothering her?

I tilted my head and tried to remember if there was a point on the page. I didn’t recall one. “What is the point?” I asked.

“Hearts and Hooves Day is not a holiday for lots of food. It’s … a special day to spend with the special pony—or changeling—in your life and show them how much you love them.”

“Oh!” My earfins perked up. “So, like how changeling courtship begins by bringing food to show my affection? I bring a yummy looking—” I stopped short as I noticed her raising an eyebrow. Her silent way of steering me away from those norms. “By bringing them a treat they really like?” I offered instead.

To my relief, Princess Cadence beamed and nodded. “Yes, Thorax, that would work just fine. So, food can be involved, but the holiday is not for you to start feeding.” She thought on it a moment, then added, “Unless somepony offers it, of course. Then it’s fine.”

“Okay. That makes more sense.” Somewhat, at least. I am trying, Small Pony Book. Truly. I opted to change the subject to one of the other questions that had vexed me so. “Was I incorrect in thinking that Star Swirl the Bearded was renowned because he created a spell that allowed him to stir the stars until they swirled?”

Princess Cadence chuckled and shook her head. “I’m afraid so. I don’t think Auntie Luna would’ve been happy with that one.”

I blinked. "Why not?"

"She can be rather finicky about how her stars are arranged. In fact, let me tell you a little story about her ..."

Author's Notes:

Thank you for reading through Thorax's journal! If you like what I'm doing, consider donating to my Patreon.

5. Princess Luna's Stars Do Not Swirl

Dear Small Pony Book,

I hope you weren’t too upset that my last entry was cut a little short. Flurry Heart decided that I had spent enough time writing my entry and decided to pounce upon me, as I have done to her whenever she attempts to escape bath time. Fortunately for your pages (and my pencil), she made far too much noise for it to be considered a pounce. It was more a flying tackle by a giggling, babbling foal.

Teaching her proper technique will be paramount. I would hate to rob her of that crucial skill.

With that said, I was writing about Learning Day with Princess Cadence when I left off. She was about to tell me the story of why Princess Luna could be a bit finicky with her stars.

There was a bit of a gap between her mention of the tale and when she actually began to share it with me, as the palace staff had walked in with her meal. Princess Cadence chose to eat a bit of heavenly scented onion and leak soup—she said something about dinner being bigger that evening, and it was, so I could hardly argue. I chose to abstain, as her love would be more than enough to nourish me. Feeding upon her and then eating their food would be incredibly greedy and, I daresay, rather rude.

Also, if I made it a habit, I’d probably end up overweight. That is unacceptable. How would I be able to teach Flurry Heart important lessons like proper pouncing, hiding when sought, and, most importantly, protect my hosts if I were a bloated blob of a changeling?

Certainly not well.

I waited patiently for her to finish, and chose to busy myself by indulging in what has become a hobby of mine: pony architecture. Changeling hives aren’t like pony structures. Our hives are as ever-changing as us—what is a door one moment might not be one the next, and you may just find yourself in a room that had three exits but suddenly has one. Ponies might call this chaotic, but it’s a safety measure for us. We can navigate easier because of our senses and the way our minds work. Enemies of the hive or food, on the other hoof, would be lost because they think like their history.

Too linear.

Really, I must wonder how that works. How can a pony pretend they have all the details if they don’t note that history is less a straight line, more an interconnecting web of events that happened a certain way as told by Chitin the Conquerer? Or another strand of the same event as told by Lacewing the Lascivicious, who contradicted Chitin’s account and deposed him as ruler of the Badlands Hive shortly thereafter? Not to mention Morrigan, the Temptress of the Mountains and her famed brothels in what is now the Smokey Mountains, and her union with wily Winsome of the Southern Plains.*

Pony architecture, as stated, is similar. Always fixated, never changing unless they brought in a full team of crafts ponies to “remodel” and “refurbish,” and so strangely … not alive. It may seem strange, but, for all the faults of the Badlands Hive (of which, there are a great many), I do miss the hive structure itself. It was more than just a place we slept, bred, fed, and kept our charmed ponies. It shared in our will and nature.

The hive was alive.

The Crystal Palace was not. It stayed stagnant, unchanging, but beautiful in its own right. From the way the columns seemed to grow from the floor, to how the windows made a rainbow of colors for Flurry to coo at when the sun hit just right, and even how the archways and corridors shimmered like the crystal ponies in the staff, and glowed as though the Crystal Heart’s power thrummed through every inch of the city. Judging by the protective shield and the amount of love in the very air, I’m inclined to believe that is the case.

“So,” Princess Cadence began, effectively pulling me out of my staring contest with the wall. She dabbed a droplet of soup from her lips, then spoke again, “Auntie Luna’s stars. Now, normally, you’d think there wouldn’t be a problem with them being, ah, swirled, right?”

I blinked. “But Star Swirl—”

She shook her head and waved her hoof side-to-side. “Forget Star Swirl for a moment. Star Swirl never had the magical talent to mess with her sky. We can cover him when we discuss ponies with historically significant contribution to magic, if you like.”

“Ah,” I intoned dumbly. Mentally sticking that in a cocoon for later, I asked, “So, if Star Swirl was not responsible for swirling her stars, what relevance does your tale have to the notion?”

“Oh, you’ll see!” A grin nearly split her face. I tasted a hint of spice, a sort of delighted glee that came with a fun memory, accentuated by the light shining in her purple eyes. With a quick jerk of her head, she tossed the curls of her mane over her shoulder, and shifted in her seat cushion. “What do you know about Discord?” she asked.

My eyes must have gone as wide as dinner plates. Discord? The Lord of Chaos? The Bane of Harmony?

Of all our enemies, Discord was at the top of the list. Even the First Mother hissed and recoiled from his power, fearful that he might turn her hatchlings’ chitin to fluff or our nice, warm cocoons to ice cream.

“I know that Queen Chrysalis hated him,” I replied. “And that we were taught to flee from him on sight.”

“Ah, well, don’t worry about him.” She waved me off. “He’s reformed. Mostly. He’s actually rather close with one of Twilight’s friends, and he’s even managed to calm down enough to have tea with the other princesses and I since the incident with Tirek.” Princess Cadence gave a tiny cough and flick of her ear, a sign of discomfort. But she moved on before I could prod. “Anyway, he’s a friend … but he’s sort of a nuisance sometimes.”

I frowned. A nuisance to my hosts was something I had yet to encounter. The crystal ponies were loathe for their benevolent rulers—well, our benevolent rulers—want for anything, and all the Royal Guards who came over from Equestria proper embodied the professionalism and respect Shining drilled into recruits every day.

While I knew she strictly forbade it, I decided then and there that I would sink my fangs into him the instant he tried anything to negatively influence my hosts’ day.

A sudden twist to my earfin yanked me out of my thoughts. I yelped in pain, clapping my hoof over my poor earfin. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a familiar cerulean glow around Princess Cadence’s horn fading away. Her grin had faltered. In its place, a stern frown marred her beautiful face. “Thorax,” she said, “you are not to try biting Discord because I said he can be a nuisance.”

My jaw dropped. “What gave me away?”

“Your eyes flashed green,” she drawled. “When I say Discord is a nuisance, I mean he plays tricks that can be annoying. He’s gotten better about not being too wild. Mostly.” Another cough and shifting on her cushion. She rustled her wings. “That aside, Discord plays a direct role in the story.”

“… Does Princess Luna bite him for his offense?”

“No. But she did chase him around Canterlot, zapping him with magic each chance she got.”

“Okay.” The information was worthy of silent praise for the Night Princess. Her way of dealing with poor behavior wasn’t quite as forceful as ours, but it certainly got the point across. I settled in my cushion and nodded in approval. A princess should discipline the Lord of Chaos if he messed about in her domain. “How does it get to that point, then?”

Princess Cadence laughed and shook her head. “Well, it seems that Discord thought it would be a good idea to go on a weeklong prank spree while Shining and I were visiting our families. He spelled all the sweets in the palace to grow legs and run away anytime Celestia tried to take a bite, he put a rather impressive spell on the library that switched every other page of the books with nonsense magazine articles, but with a twist.” She had to hide a smile behind her hoof. “It only worked when Twilight tried to read a book. To everypony else, nothing was amiss.”

Despite my disapproval of his defiance, I couldn’t help but give a hum of acknowledgement. While not a trick we changelings would pull (mostly because we don’t possess that sort of magic, but also because it’s not our preference), I could appreciate alternative methods. Especially a good one.

Please don’t tell Princess Twilight I said that, Small Pony Book. She might take offense and decide that I’m not allowed to visit Spike.

I would be a very sad changeling if that should happen.

After a brief pause to take a sip of her tea, Princess Cadence continued, “Twilight was torn. I think she wanted to be angry, but she was too impressed with the skill that went into such a spell. Sort of a mixed bag there.”

“Did he do anything to you and Shining?” I asked, cutting her off before she could get too much into Princess Twilight’s tendency to research and study everything that caught her eye.

She snorted. “As a matter of fact, yes. We got off a bit easy, which caused a bit of a stir with my aunts and Twilight. They accused us of colluding.”

“Did you?”

“Of course not. But when you compare what he pulled on them with the minor Color Change spell he cast on Shining and me, it does seem a bit suspicious.” She pulled a face. “I might be making a leap, but I think he kept it that way so he wouldn’t scare Flurry. So, if you just picture Shining with my coat and mane colors, and me with his …”

It took a few seconds, but I managed to conjure the image for myself. I gaped at her, my mouth twitched, unsure if I should laugh or try to force a frown in sympathy for her plight—not that I imagined she or Shining couldn’t pull off each other’s colors, but …

Well, Shining in pink.

I covered my mouth, hoping to hide my grin.

Princess Cadence caught me. Her eyes danced. “Yes, it got more than a few chuckles. But Discord saved his best for Luna on the last night of our visit. Made worse by the fact that she knew he’d be up to something when he joined us for dinner on the balcony, held late enough that we could see her beautiful night sky.”

Right about then, it hit me. My grin slipped away as I let my jaw drop. “No,” I muttered dumbly. “He wouldn’t.”

“Wouldn’t he?” She let out a low, ominous chuckle. Shaking her head again, she sighed. “Discord let us sit there through the entire meal, wondering what he was going to pull. There was no exploding eggplant or frozen soup, he even let Auntie Celestia have her cake without it running away. He waited until the very end, when everypony had finished eating. And then—” She brought a hoof to her forehead, smiling despite herself “—he leaned back in his seat, folded his arms behind his head, and told Auntie Luna that he very much approved of the new artistic direction she’d taken with her stars.”

My heart skipped a beat. I sat, torn between admiration of his gall and disbelief of how indescribably foolish Discord was to dare sit in Princess Luna’s presence and direct her attention to the very night sky he’d hijacked for his own designs.

“We all looked up and stared,” Princess Cadence continued, “awestruck at the sight of all of Auntie’s carefully crafted constellations, her beautiful North and South Stars, all of it thrown into a tizzy like … well …” She floated her cup to rest before me and motioned for me to look down. I obeyed. The tinkling of magic tickled my earfins, a tendril snaked its way into the warm liquid.

The tea began to boil. Bubbles sputtered and swirled about in a miniature whirlpool, moving in no discernible pattern as her magic stirred. This way and that, forward, backward, sideways, everywhere and nowhere. The tiny cup of tea was a flurry of motion too strange for the eye to follow.

Complete chaos. Just as Discord would want. And to wrest control of the stars from the Night Princess herself, even for a brief moment …

I swallowed a lump. “I take it Princess Luna lost her temper with him shortly after?”

“Almost immediately. Discord was ready to run, though. He shot right off the instant she turned her eyes upon him, fully knowing that she was ready to rip him apart.” Princess Cadence took her tea cup again, hiding a frown behind it. “I’d never seen Auntie Luna lose her temper like that since returning. Her eyes glowed pure white, and she put a few good cracks in the castle stones. Auntie Celestia spent hours fixing them.”

It took me some time to pick my jaw up off the floor, as I’ve heard other ponies say. Such power. Such fury.

I was, at that moment, very glad I hadn’t run afoul of Princess Luna during the ill-fated invasion of Canterlot. Suddenly, Princess Cadence battering Libulella’s face and breaking Duplicitous’s everything seemed like nymph’s play. Or like a cat batting at a mouse.

Though, I daresay I would not squeak when Princess Luna’s gaze fell upon me and her lips curved into a wicked smirk. Chitter in fear, on the other hoof …

“Well,” I began, licking my lips. When had they gone dry? “I shall never attempt to swirl Princess Luna’s stars, lest I invite her wrath.”

“Good call,” Princess Cadence replied. Then, her ears twitched. “Oh, that actually reminds me of something! I forgot about Auntie Celestia’s letter!”

Why did that matter to me, I wondered. Oh, how blissfully unaware I was in that instant.

My blissful innocence vanished as she floated a letter that she’d kept hidden beside her left flank, out of my line of sight. Her smile was as sweet as honey, cake, and love. “We’re going to visit them in Canterlot next weekend. And they’ve both asked to meet you.”

“… What?”

Remember me as I was, Small Pony Book.

And may the First Mother have mercy on this poor changeling.

*We need to talk.

- Shining Armor

Author's Notes:

Thank you for reading through Thorax's journal! If you like what I'm doing, consider donating to my Patreon.

6. A Good, Loyal Subject

Dear Small Pony Book,

I’m sorry for the lack of entries since Learning Day with Princess Cadence last Friday. I hope you will find it within your … pages (do you have a heart somewhere? I searched, but couldn’t find it) to forgive my absence.

I have no excuse to offer aside form the fact that things have been a bit hectic—that seems a nice, fitting word. It has been hectic around the palace.

Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine there was so much to do to prepare for a simple trip to Canterlot! So many bags to fill with regalia polish, brushes, toothbrushes, other toiletries (not that sort, it’s a weird naming system I barely understand), and Sunburst’s spare capes and glasses (don’t laugh at poor Sunburst. He hasn’t yet developed the reaction time to shield himself or dodge our overlady’s playful assaults), and all of Flurry Heart’s supplies.

By the First Mother, I hadn’t realized how much there was until I sat with Sunburst and pulled it all out of her closet.

With that said, I must wonder if bags can get tummy aches when overstuffed. I asked Shining this morning, but he just started laughing and pounding his hoof on the table.

Ponies are strange.

On top of all the packing, there was the organizing with local herd leaders—I’m not certain what a “politician” or “councilpony” is supposed to be, but important changelings in the hive are referred to as swarm leaders, so important ponies in Equestria are therefore called herd leaders. This I learned from my old swarm leaders when I was young.

Cadence laughed herself silly when I used the term at breakfast, and Shining snorted coffee through his nose. It looked quite painful, so I can’t imagine why he would ever do such a thing.

Ponies are very strange. But I love my hosts all the same.

Fortunately, dealing with the complaints of the herd leaders wasn’t my task—it was Cadence’s, and I don’t envy her one bit. Though I will say that she possesses far greater patience for such trivialities then my former Queen, or that she gave Cadence credit for.

No, Small Pony Book. My task was far more enjoyable, yet challenging in its own right. But enough talk, let’s dive in, as Shining might say.

He pulled me aside yesterday, calling me away from one of my less pleasant duties as Flurry Heart’s favorite changeling: changing her nappie.

I had a very different idea of what this mean the first time Sunburst first mentioned it. I was such an innocent changeling in those days. Such a shame.

In any case, he led me to his office in the palace. I’ve been there once or twice before, but I’m afraid you’re not permitted inside yet. I am told that such places in the palace, those used by the guards, require a certain level of clearance, which you have not yet been granted. It’s not that they don’t trust you, of course. They simply wish to be careful.

No, they don’t dislike you. In fact, they were smiling when they informed me as to why you could not come by at present time.

Shining’s office is quite nice, I must say. He doesn’t furnish it with crystal, like most of the palace. Rather, he prefers to bring in wood furnishings—his desk, his chair, the picture frames, and military academy diploma mounted on the wall are all done up in traditional Canterlot style. He even has some lovely pictures of Twilight, Cadence, Spike, and himself on his desk, from their younger days.

They were quite adorable at that age. Spike most certainly made for cute baby. Though, I wonder if he is still technically a baby dragon—I’ve seen pictures of adult dragons. Spike, though I love him as a dear friend, has quite a ways to go.

Er, if you wouldn’t mind keeping that between us, I would be most appreciative, Small Pony Book. I’m told that he’s sensitive regarding his size. If you must inform him, then please be sure to impress my support for his longstanding goal to one day look down at Rainbow Dash and ask her how the weather is down there (though I imagine it will be the same as the weather “up here”).

“Sit down, buddy,” Shining said as he trotted around his desk and settled into a blue cushion, gesturing toward a matching cushion across from him. “We need to have a little talk about something from your last entry.”

My earfins twitched. I walked over and sat down as asked—and this time, I didn’t sit on the floor. That had been quite embarrassing the first time.

I couldn’t quite help but let out a nervous chitter, or stop my wings from buzzing, the itch to fly away from the most powerful unicorn sorcerer in the Equestrian Armed Forces was a tough habit to shake, no matter how nice he was. After all, I knew what he wanted, and I knew how close to home it hit.

“You want to talk about the hive in the Smokey Mountains,” I said without hesitation. After all, he is my Prince now. My ruler. My host.

He nodded solemnly. His horn wreathed in a strawberry pink glow, he took up a pencil and a pad of notepaper. “Yes. The one formed by the union of … uh …” Shining’s brows knitted together as he tried to recall.

“Morrigan the Temptress of the Mountains and Wily Winsome of the Southern Plains,” I recited almost automatically. Just as Queen Chrysalis would demand if I were reporting to her. Just as I should for my new rulers and hosts.

Shining offered a small smile of thanks. “Yes, them. The ones who run the, ah, brothels in Equestrian territory.” His smile faded. “I’m going to have to ask you some questions about them.”

A small part of me felt suddenly important. I could teach them about my kind! Like they had me! “To learn?”

“Yes, in a way. I’d like to learn if they’re going to be a threat like Chrysalis.”

“The Smokey Mountain hive has never held any interest in conquest or subjugation,” I rattled off before I could even process the meaning behind his words. Then I did. I blinked twice. “Are … are you going to attack them?”

He gave his head a firm shake as his pencil scratched across the page. “I don’t plan on it, but I’d like to be careful. Hearing that changelings have been living in those mountains, running brothels out of them for generations, is a matter of national security. So, while I’ll admit, part of my interest is academic—” his eyes hardened, those warm blue irises were less like the open sky, more like the breath of the Winter Spirits “—if they’re hurting ponies, I’m not going to let it continue.”

I did try to suppress the shudder that ran through my body. Shining Armor, as mentioned before, is no pushover. Absentmindedly, I rubbed my faceplate, the first thing to hit the ground after his shield cast my former hive from Canterlot, and separated me from my kind.

Not a pleasant feeling or memory, but I can’t complain. It led me here, after all. With them. And you, of course, Small Pony Book. Last, but not least on the list.

I licked my lips, a nervous tick I’d picked up from watching him when Cadence was angry. “The Smokey Mountain hive doesn’t like to hurt ponies. They prefer to offer, ah, intimacy in exchange for love. Like, say you wanted—”

“I don’t.”

“I don’t mean you, but say … hang on.” I picked Sunburst’s form from memory and changed in a flash of green fire. “Let’s say Sunburst wanted to enjoy a beautiful mare’s company,” I said in his voice. “If he went to their resort in the mountains, he’d find a hive of changelings happy to see his needs met.”

Shining nodded and glanced down at his notes as he added a few more lines. “Standard practice then. Anything else?”

“Oh, much more. Or, if maybe he was feeling some, ah, urges ponies aren’t too inclined to share because of connotations, they’ll take part to satisfy him.”

His pencil stopped. “That sounds almost like some strange club.” Then his ears twitched. “Though, I suppose that would also fit a brothel’s nature. And given what changelings need … never mind.” With a shake of his head, he resumed writing. “Continue, please.”

In another flash of fire, I transformed into Starlight Glimmer. “Or if Starlight needed somepony to talk about details she didn’t want to share with Princess Twilight, and needed them to show her she could still be loved afterward …”

Scratch, scratch scratch went his pencil across the page. Shining glanced up at me for a moment, frowning. “Could you change back, please?”

“Oh, right!” A blush blossomed across Starlight’s cheeks before I transformed back into my natural form. I rubbed at my headfin and gave a sheepish smile. “Does that help?”

“It’s … information, all right,” he said with a sigh. He brought a hoof up to massage the bridge of his snout. “Ponies go voluntarily, then? No compulsion?”

“None but what takes them there. I think Queen Ember might send a few changelings into the nearby towns to offer services—” he winced at my choice of wording “—but no compulsion is used. Well, unless the pony is inclined toward that sort of thing. I hear it can be quite—”

Shining held up his free hoof. His face twisted as if he were sucking on a lemon. “Please don’t,” he grumbled, his other hoof moved to cover his eyes. His shoulders shook.

“Ah, right. Sorry.” I could’ve bit myself. How could I forget his history with compulsions?

“It’s fine. Just not something I want to hear about.”

Another nervous chitter sounded from the back of my throat. I thought a moment, searching for something else. “Their Queen is quite nice, I hear.”

His ears perked up. “Oh?”

“By virtue of causing Queen Chrysalis to rage for days when she refused to allow our hive to feed upon her patrons so we could strengthen for the invasion.”

Slowly, he brought his hoof down from his eyes. “Really?”

I nodded so vigorously I thought my brain might rattle around in my head. Not pleasant. “That was after she refused to take part in the invasion. She even slighted our hive.”

Shining arched a brow. A bemused smile crept across his face. “What’d she say?”

“That we must be impressively pathetic to come seeking nourishment in her territory, served up like a buffet. She also added that she would take any of us trespassing to feed on ponies an offense of the gravest sort.”

His brows disappeared beneath his mane. “She doesn’t play around.”

“Of course not. The safety of the hive is paramount to any Queen, as is the vitality of their food source.” When I noticed the flat look he shot me, I ducked my head. “Er, well, ours aside. Queen Chrysalis sort of went mad. Even by the standards of our history, no changeling had ever thought to wage open war and risk exposing the entire race as an enemy to hate and fear—I mean, we need love and other positive emotions to survive!”

Again, his brows disappeared beneath his bangs. “So,” he said, “what I’m gathering here is that most of your kind didn’t think the invasion a particularly wise move.”

“To be fair, we don’t do much independent thinking. If the Queen orders it, we do it.”

“Right. Should’ve known that by now.” With a sigh, he ran a hoof through his mane. “Okay. Well, thanks for the information, buddy. That puts me at ease. Somewhat. In some sense.” Shining wrinkles his snout. “As much as I can be with that revelation.”

I sat up straight, happy to have been of service to my Prince. But there was still something on my mind. “So, you’re not going to attack them? Or are they still in trouble?”

“Last time I checked, there’s no law against being a changeling in Equestria.” He set his notepad and pencil down and leaned back, folding his hooves over his belly. “I’ll double check and see if Celestia and Luna know about them. If so, we do nothing. If not, we’ll probably end up trying to contact their Queen—uh—”

“Ember.”

“Right, Ember. We’ll see about some sort of diplomacy with Queen Ember. Something.” Shining took one last look at his notes, then floated them off to the side. “Either way, thanks for your help, Thorax. I appreciate you sharing this with me.”

I bowed my head. “Of course. I’m happy to serve.”

Occasions such as these are quite gratifying, Small Pony Book. They remind me that, despite how strange my hosts might seem, they are still rulers. Rulers are served by good, loyal subjects.

Princess Cadence and Prince-Captain Shining Armor are my rulers. As are Princesses Celestia, Luna, and Twilight Sparkle. To each of them, I am grateful and loyal.

I will always be a good, loyal subject.

Author's Notes:

Queen Ember is a reference to one of SPark's OCs from a story I can't link here!

Thank you for reading through Thorax's journal! If you like what I'm doing, consider donating to my Patreon.

7. The Ride to Canterlot (Not Invading This Time, I Promise)

Dear Small Pony Book,

I had never been on a train before. Normally when the hive went someplace, we flew in formation to somewhere generally near where we wished to infiltrate, then had scouts slip in and steal ponies away for us to feed upon and imitate. Trains always looked so … slow. And inefficient. They still sort of seem that way when I noticed that there were pegasi among the guards, meaning that Princess Cadence and I weren’t the only ones with wings.

Well, Flurry Heart too, but we could hardly expect our overlady, great though she is, to fly the whole way to Canterlot. And I suppose there might be some guards who might be uncomfortable with the prospect of being carried in one of those flight carriages. I’ve no idea how Shining Armor might feel.

Actually, forget I said anything, Small Pony Book. It’s probably best that we just take the train, efficiency questions notwithstanding.

Still, though. The experience was … odd. I’m not entirely certain how to explain it, really. Have you ever been on a train, Small Pony Book?

It’s rickety. It’s noisy. It’s most uncomfortable with the way it jostles back and forth with each bump—which, incidentally, is the entire track, because that’s how those things move. As Sunburst was happy to inform me, they don’t simply roll forward powered by the engine. Their wheels are sort of pulled into motion by a complicated system of pulleys which are run by the engine.

All of it went right over my head, so I just sort of nodded and opted to busy myself watching things through the window. I remember sitting myself down before the window, within easy reach of my overlady should she wish to jump on my back and play, as she was wont to do after cuddling with her parents long enough.

In the meantime, I busied myself watching things pass by our window in what seemed to be an oddly contradictory lazy approach before it went zipping by me. Trees, stones, lone buildings in the middle of sprawling fields, they all seemed to casually approach before dashing off as if they had someplace better to be. The only things that didn’t feel such a need were the great mountains, though they likely decided long ago that they had no reason to dash anywhere for anyone, because they are Very Big and Important.

Each time, I couldn’t help but watch, wide-eyed and focused, turning my head to track their movements. A couple times, I even attempted to lean out the window—without opening it up.

I make no excuses, save that I forgot myself in the moment. Multiple times.

“You know,” Sunburst began, mirth tinging his tone, “it might be a bit easier if you just come sit down again and watch the scenery as it comes, Thorax.”

A chitter of disagreement arose from the back of my throat. “But I’ve never seen things pass by like this,” I replied. “It moves so slow, but also so fast!”

“That’s because of the theory of relativity.”

“But why’s it theoretical? Relative to me, we’re coming up on that tree right there—and now it’s gone. So now the tree is back where we just were.”

He laughed. I turned to fix him with a quizzical look, and found my friend and fellow Flurry watcher hiding a smile behind a rather slyly subtle adjustment of his glasses. “It looks slower on approach because of your position in relation to the object’s location. Since we move and it doesn’t, it looks like things are creeping forward until they’re almost level with us. Then, when they get level and we go by …” Sunburst gestured toward the window.

I turned just in time to see a large oak tree crawl along the window, then zip right by as he said it would.

“It seems like it’s caught up with our speed,” Sunburst finished with a happy swish of his tail. “See?”

I looked back and forth between him and the window a couple times, then glanced at Princess Cadence for confirmation. She nodded once, waggling her ears. This beautiful pink and purple tinged feathers fluffed with glee.

A glance to Shining Armor yielded much the same, though he did shake his head. I could almost taste the amusement rolling off him in waves—delicious, though not so much as his love for his family and friends. “We can give you a full lesson on it when we get home, Thorax.” He gestured to the empty spot across from him, right beside Sunburst. “Take a seat and relax, buddy. We’ve got another couple hours ahead of us.”

I didn’t want to sleep just yet, though. I doubted I even could, with how bouncy and rickety the ride was. It was hardly conducive to laying down across the seat, not to mention it would probably jiggle a good cocoon loose if I tried to hang it from the ceiling. The floor probably wouldn’t make my hosts happy either.

In hindsight, I don’t think the cleaning ponies would have been happy to find a used cocoon made of changeling slime anywhere in their nice, shiny, rickety-rockety train, so it was probably for the best that I wrinkled my snout and hopped onto the seat as requested.

“Thank you,” he said with a nod. He reclined in his seat, offering a quick nuzzle and playful crooning noise when Flurry waved her tiny hooves in his direction before he glanced at me once more. His smile broadened to show a glimpse of pearl white teeth. “You’ve been a popular topic in our letters with Celestia and Luna.”

“Auntie Celestia and Auntie Luna,” Princess Cadence corrected playfully. “You know they’ll tease you terribly if you don’t call them that.”

“Yes, yes, I know. I’ll be sure to remember when we get there.”

Giggling, she sang, “No you won’t!”

He waved her off. “Point is,” he said to me, much to her amusement, “they’ve been rather interested in how you’re adapting to life with us.”

I swallowed a mouthful of spit. For a moment, I was so shocked that I began to produce slime, ready to incapacitate whatever frightened me.

Then I realized that what frightened me was more of a “who,” and “who” turned out to be the two ponies who lived longer than any and held power the likes of which even Queen Chrysalis knew to respect, and they weren’t even present. I quickly swallowed that too.

The Royal Sisters were … legendary doesn’t begin to describe them, Small Pony Book. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you the respect they command amongst their ponies, but I can confirm that both Princess Celestia and Princess Luna held a high place in the hive—as high as an enemy could hold. If the Queen acknowledged that she would need every bit of the purest love to fuel her magic if she wished to take you on, the hive placed you in the highest order of our enemies, those who defied us or tried valiantly and failed: Most Respected and Feared Enemy.

I happened to be sitting in a train car with two ponies on that list. Well. They would have been added to it after the failed invasion, as would Princess Twilight and her friends.

Sorry, Small Pony Book. Back to the point. The Sisters were—are otherworldly. Their love for the ponies under their protection cannot be overstated in any way. Even at the time of her Falling, Princess Luna meant no harm to her ponies. Rather, she desired they return the love she held for them each time she blanketed Equestria in her night.

With that said, I don’t think bringing that up is particularly wise. Or particularly beneficial to my continued existence. There was, and still, is little doubt in my mind that there was absolutely nothing I wanted to do with the prospect of a one-way trip to the moon.

My part in the invasion and kidnapping of my most gracious host, the benevolent and beautiful embodiment of love sitting across from me and playing peek-a-boo with her daughter, would no doubt have me on what ponies call “thin ice” with the princesses.

A worrisome groan escaped my lips. In a flash of green fire, I changed into Crystal Hoof’s form.

All three adults frowned in near perfect unison. Flurry, on the other hoof, laughed and clapped her tiny hooves, cheering, “Faces! Tora, faces!”

Any other time, I would have been happy to indulge my overlady’s whims.

At that moment, however, I felt more like cocooning myself in the thickest, hardest cocoon with extra gooey slime interior and hiding myself for the next eternity or two. Perhaps three, if I were lucky enough.

Sunburst gave me a gentle nudge. “Relax,” he chided. “Princess Celestia and Princess Luna are nice.”

“Are they?” I asked shakily.

“Very. I’ve met them a couple times.” When I turned to fix him with a curious look, he offered a smile. “Before you came to the Empire.”

“Oh. That explains it.”

Princess Cadence snorted. “Of course they’re nice, you silly bug!” she teased. “Auntie Celestia practically raised me, and she’s like Twilight’s second mother. And Auntie Luna’s been very active helping foals through their problems since her return.”

I shifted back into natural form. My earfins perked up at that. “Oh?” Glancing between little Flurry and her, I tilted my head. “She likes little ones, then?”

“She adores them.” Her eyes seemed to glow and sparkle with delight. “And don’t worry so much. I’m confident they’ll both adore you.” She paused a moment to pass Flurry to Shining Armor, who graciously accepted his daughter and promptly assaulted her with tickles. With a fond smile and shake of her head, Princess Cadence returned her attention to me and said, “We’ve told them that you’re a good friend and subject. There’s no reason to fret.”

Easy for her to say. But I didn’t voice my opinion. Instead, I merely chewed on my bottom lip, mindful of my fangs. Another low groan sounds from the back of my throat, betraying my uncertainty.

But Princess Cadence didn’t give up. “Stretch out and relax, Thorax. Maybe take a nap. We’ll wake you when we’re there.”

Sleep? On that rickety-rockety metal contraption they called a train? Unlikely. I doubted I’d even manage to doze if I really tried.

But my Princess commanded it. Sort of. I decided to count it, because it was easier than the alternative of thinking and deciding for myself—I maintain that ponies are incredibly weird about wanting me to do that, Small Pony Book So with that in mind, I obeyed, laying down and settling my chin upon my holed-legs and closing my eyes. Instinct demanded that I cocoon, but what I’d learned about pony manners told Instinct to shut up because doing so might inconvenience some poor cleaning pony.

I won’t say what Instinct had to say about that. It wasn’t nice. He’s been stuck in an imprisonment pod for timeout—an imaginary one, at least. He didn’t go without noting that I wouldn’t be able to sleep without a proper cocoon, like a true changeling.

The rickety-rockety motion was more soothing than I imagined. It was almost like what I’d seen pony parents do for their foals, something I never experienced in the hive.

Sleep stole me away shortly after I let my eyelids droop closed.

A constant prodding awakened me. I blinked my bleary blue eyes and raised my head, and found a much amused Sunburst standing beside the bench we’d been sharing. “Huh-wha?” I mumbled with a sleepy buzz.

Sunburst laughed and shifted his shoulders to adjust his cape. Why he felt the need to bring it, I never fully understood. I prefer to think it’s required because he’s a Very Smart and Very Important Researcher. “We’ve arrived in Canterlot,” he replied. “Cadence and Shining have already gotten off to say hello to Princess Celestia and Princess Luna.”

My earfins perked up. A cold lump of ice dropped into the pit of my stomach. They got off the train without me? I let out a nervous buzz, licking my dried lips. “They’re … not waiting for me, are they?”

“Uh … kinda. We all are.”

Oh dear. My wings itched to buzz to life and fly away before I was disciplined.

But then, I remembered that I wasn’t in the hive anymore, nor was I under Queen Chrysalis’s hoof. Still. The Royal Sisters of Night and Day were waiting. On me.

That’s not how these things are supposed to work, even among the hive. Rulers were not meant to wait on subjects, subjects were supposed to wait on their rulers.

I all but leapt to my hooves and dashed for the door. I did not scamper, no matter how much snickering and snorting Sunburst may have done as he followed, or how much he insisted I did when he recounted the tale of my waking to a cackling Shining Armor in the evening. Nor did I skitter. Not at all.

Maybe a little, but that’s unimportant. Royals were waiting on me.

As my hooves hit the concrete, I had about a second to take in the sites, the marble buildings and bleach white columns I hadn’t had the chance to appreciate during the invasion. Truly a wonder of equine ingenuity.

Then my gaze was drawn to the two immortals. My mouth dropped, I could feel my heart skip a beat as my nerves gave way to awe.

You don’t have eyes, Small Pony Book, so I’ll do my best to describe their beauty, both inside and out. With no disrespect to Princess Cadence—for she is a magnificent host and a wonderful mare—the Royal Sisters are blessed with otherworldly beauty. Flowing manes of rainbow and twinkling stars, unblemished coats whiter than snow and purest midnight blue, ancient, all-knowing eyes that shone with wisdom and love for their subjects, and of course their marks.

A golden sun with dancing rays, and a crescent moon set within a pool of darkness.

My nerves died in the face of reality. The Royal Sisters were no longer just stories told in awestruck whispers of Swarm Leaders teaching us about the Most Respected and Feared Enemies of the hive.

Princess Celestia and Princess Luna were before me. Both wore warm smiles as they greeted their niece and nephew-in-law. Little Flurry Heart squealed and waved her hooves from her new seat upon the Sun Princess’s back. And Princess Celestia was all too happy to turn and nuzzle the darling filly’s cheek before planting a kiss on her forehead.

Then Princess Luna’s teal eyes flitted to meet my gaze. Her brows disappeared beneath that starry mane. “Sooth!” she said, a playful smile playing upon her lips. “It seems that our sleeping changeling has awaken at last!”

In that instant, I wished to flee back into the train car. My hooves twitched as if to do so, but I found myself transfixed by a pair of deep purple eyes. Deeper than Princess Cadence’s.

I could feel it. Oh, by the First mother, I could feel the love around them, just as I could feel it surrounding Flurry when I was discovered—all the love directed toward them and all they held for those ponies in return.

The latter nearly sent me to my knees. It was so delicious, so … filling. And I wasn’t even drawing it in!

Princess Celestia’s tasted like a thousand things so sweet I could hardly hope to describe the taste. Warm chocolate, sunny days, rainbows, couples finding love and growing old together, and a doting mother watching her babies grow up before her very eyes. Over and over again.

Whereas Princess Luna tasted of ice cream sundaes, cool fall nights spent gazing out over the Badlands with Libulella by my side, young ponies at play, and a good night of indulging my mischievous nature by pulling pranks on the guards.

And still that doesn’t do them justice. Their love is … indescribable.

I thought I knew love, Small Pony Book. Never before had I tasted love like this. So ancient. So pure.

Some of it was directed toward me.

I’m utterly shocked I didn’t start crying tears of joy. I may have been stunned beyond tears.

“Well, well,” Princess Celestia began, her voice as melodious as a choir singing in perfect harmony, “so this is the young Thorax you’ve told us so much about.”

“Yes, Auntie,” Princess Cadence replied, turning to smile at me. “Thorax has been living with us for some time. I think he might be Flurry’s favorite playmate.”

“Ah, yes. His shapeshifting ability has been quite a boon in entertaining her.” She strode toward, smiling serenely as she stopped within hoof’s reach and raised a hoof.

And then offered it to me.

“I’m pleased to meet you at last,” Princess Celestia greeted. “My niece has told me a great deal about you. Welcome to Canterlot.”

I’d like to say that my reply was something dignified. I’d love nothing more than to tell you that I bowed my head just as I would to Queen Chrysalis when I served in the hive and showed respect to my new ruler like a noble changeling would do, Small Pony Book. I would love to say I did a number of things and have just one of them be true.

Above all else, I truly wish I’d done something other than stare back at her and squeak out a single syllable:

“Meep!”

Author's Notes:

Thank you for reading through Thorax's journal! If you like what I'm doing, consider donating to my Patreon.

8. The Immortal Sisters Pt. 1

Dear Small Pony Book,

When we last left off, I had just finished telling you about our ride on that rickety train from my hosts’ home in the Crystal Empire to Canterlot, the capital city of Equestria. The very seat of power of the four princesses, the mightiest magic users in all the land.
Not to mention the very city that was once the target of the largest invading force of changelings the world had ever seen, of which I was among their number. This also fails to mention that I was directly involved with kidnapping Princess Cadence as a part of that.
With all that said, Small Pony Book, is there really any wonder that I found my throat tightening and my carapace itching each time those ancient, all-knowing eyes swept over my form? Or how I longed to shapeshift and hide myself behind Shining Armor or maybe slip out with Sunburst and our Overlady to play with her while the, ah, royals chatted? In fact, I did make a rather subtle attempt at such once we arrived in Canterlot Castle and had everything brought to the Royal Suite.

Oh, before I continue, that’s important. We’re all staying in one suite while we’re in Canterlot so we can attend to my hosts’ needs more easily. That way Sunburst and I aren’t sleeping in some little guest room on the far end of the corridor if Princess Cadence or Shining should require assistance with anything, or if somepony should attempt to steal little Flurry Heart.

With that said, my fangs are sharp and ready. We must be vigilant, Small Pony Book. The capital is safe now, but a changeling is always prepared. I do hope you’ll be agreeable to sharing this small room with Sunburst and I, though. He assures me that he doesn’t snore. If he does … well, I suppose I could always cocoon us to the ceiling.

But I digress. I should return back to my attempt at what I thought a most cunning escape. Flurry Heart, my dear Overlady, even provided me the perfect excuse.

The little filly waggled her hooves at my face from her perch atop the immaculate white shoulders of Princess Celestia. “Tora, come!” she called to me as though I were her puppy rather than her favorite changeling. “Tora, play! Tora faces ’n hide!”

Ah, faces and hide. Or, in laypony’s terms, she wished for me to take her on a “secret changeling mission” around the castle. Normally, this meant changing my form into something other than Crystal Hoof, with the blessing of Princess Cadence and Shining Armor so they could give the guards and staff fair warning that the strange new pony skulking around with a giggling princess on his back was me and not some foalnapper.

In Princess Celestia’s castle, however … that might be a bit of a problem. It might have to just be silly faces while here, without our secret missions. Unless Princess Cadence had similar authority here.

Unfortunately, Princess Celestia did not miss my Overlady’s cry. She turned to fix me with a bemused look, trapping me beneath the gaze of her ancient purple eyes as she smiled down upon me. Then she looked back to Flurry and asked, “You want Thorax, do you?” she crooned.

“Yes!” She squealed. “Tora fun, Aun’ Tia! Tora faces ’n hide, fun!”

“Why, I’m sure he is.” Chuckling as though she knew exactly what my Overlady wished, she turned to look at Princess Cadence and Princess Luna. “What say you, sister?”

Princess Luna smiled. Despite the genuine joy behind her eyes and the love for her family teasing my nose, I shuddered. Those stories of the Night Princess’s fall weren’t just pony tales. They were ours, too. “Sooth, if she says it so, I have little doubt.” Then her eyes flitted to me. “I can only wonder what such a delightful game could be. Pray tell, oh favored changeling, what does our grand-niece mean?”
I could have sworn that my heart skipped a beat, maybe even two. How was I to explain that I regularly made habit of absconding with my Overlady so we could skulk about the Crystal Palace? With Princess Cadence’s blessing, yes, but even I could think of a few of the many questions it might raise.

“I, uh,” I stammered, cursing my tongue for being so long and easy to trip over. “I shapeshift and make silly faces for her. It’s become part of our daily routine, and she frequently makes demand for more.”

“Ah, well that is a fine use of your natural gift,” the Night Princess replied, her smile contemplative and eyes gleaming with some sort of untold mischief. “But that is only half of her request. What is the other?”

At that point, I could do little more than to glance and offer a weak smile at Princess Cadence, praying to the First Mother that she took my hesitance as her cue to come to my rescue before I had one of my little—ah—moments where I was too changeling for ponies to understand.

Fortunately, my benevolent host was ready and happy to aid my attempted escape. “Flurry and Thorax go on little missions at home,” Princess Cadence answered in my stead. “It usually means we let him take another form so it seems like he’s sneaking around to take her to steal cookies or find Shining when he’s out inspecting the patrols.”

That answer made Princess Luna blink. “Does that not countermand your rule that he must remain in his chosen guise or natural form?”
“It does, yes. However—” here, my host paused to offer a smile in my direction. I could feel the warmth of her love and praise wrapping around me like a blanket, wafting to my nose like the scents of sweets in the kitchen. “—Shining and I trust Thorax not to abuse it, even if we let the guards know not to panic if they see Flurry on a new pony’s back for a couple hours. He never takes her farther than the training yard to see Shining and always has her back at the exact time he says.”

I will confess that my chest did swell, even in the presence of the Immortal Sisters. I am a good changeling and subject, Small Pony Book, so of course I have Flurry Heart back in her crib or in her mother’s embrace at the exact minute I promised each time we go on our missions. But hearing it from her lips, in front of her aunts, brought forth a feeling of honor and gratification the likes of which we changelings felt only when we succeeded in bringing home food bound in cocoons to our Queen and earned her favor.
Such moments were far and few between. But at the time, they were special. With Princess Cadence, Prince-Captain Shining Armor, and Sunburst, though …

There have been times where I received so much passive love I almost felt bloated.

I bring that up once more because, again, I felt the love of the two ancient princesses wrapping around me once more. I blinked a few times and licked my lips. Oh, how it tasted. A hundred lovers on Hearts and Hooves Day could only hope to produce so much affection and sweet nourishment for a lowly changeling such as I.*

Then I noticed the smile spreading across Princess Celestia’s face. There was something about it I recognized. Mischief, scheming. It was a changeling smile playing across the face of the legendary Sun Princess.

It was actually more changeling than any I’d seen on Queen Chrysalis.

I swallowed a mouthful of saliva and slime, only just noticing that my glands were secreting in overdrive. A natural response to fear, I’m afraid. My eyes flitted from the Sisters, to Princess Cadence, to my Overlady, then back to Princess Celestia again. I had to swallow once more. “Er,” I began, “I would be happy to entertain Flurry Heart with faces. We don’t have to, um, sneak around today. I wouldn’t want to make anypony uneasy.” I left off any reference to the invasion, but I could see the understanding flash across their faces.

Though that didn’t do anything to diminish Princess Celestia’s smile. “What an interesting little game you play. And what do you think, Flurry?” She turned to nuzzle my Overlady’s belly, which made her squeal and giggle under her grand-aunt’s assault. “Are Thorax’s games fun?”

Another mouthful of saliva and slime had to be swallowed down. There was something in her tone, hidden beneath that sweet, playful baby talk.

She was planning mischief. I, a changeling, surely delight in mischief myself, but I cannot fathom what such an ancient, learned mind might conjure.

It was time to make a quick escape.

I turned to bow to Princess Cadence and spoke, “If you don’t have plans with her, I would be happy to take Flurry for faces, Princess. If it pleases you.”

“Faces?” she asked, mischief that only fell just short of matching her aunt’s shining in her eyes like dancing flames. “But no sneaking?”
I froze. My eyes flitted between her and the Sisters again. “Er …”

“Tora, hide!” Flurry chipped in at a most inopportune moment. “Tora, hide sneak!”

“I quite agree, Flurry,” Princess Celestia said, fluffing her feathers. Her eyes locked with mine, only then did I realize that while Princess Cadence’s eyes shone with fire and Princess Luna’s with the light of the stars themselves, hers shone with the very light of the Sun she raised and set. With a merry fluff of her pristine white feathers, she approached. Her ethereal mane and tail trailed behind her like liquid rainbow. “I’m sure your faces are quite lovely, but this is a new castle for the pair of your to explore.”

I could do little but make a guileless squeak in the back of my throat before my mouth decided to work. “Th-That it is. I don’t quite know my way around.”

Her smile showed teeth. It was at that moment that I managed to piece together what she was thinking. Just as the words left her lips.
“Why don’t I give you and Flurry the grand tour?”

Of all the things I’d expected when Princess Cadence told me about this visit, sneaking around Canterlot Castle with the blessing of both Sisters was not among them.

Nor was having Princess Celestia herself invite me to do so with her as a guide. Well. Not that the guards had any idea it was us.
As it so turns out, Small Pony Book, the Sisters do so love their own brand of mischief. Little pranks here and there to keep things lively and fun around the castle, they told me as we waited for a pair of castle staffponies summoned by the chime of a bell. They were siblings, fraternal twins actually. One a tall stallion of dusty red coat and coffee brown mane with flecks of gold to match his eyes, the other a svelte mare who only came up to my chest and wore her golden mane in magnificent curls that flowed past her shoulders like a waterfall of honey to compliment her oak brown coat. Her green eyes shone with mirth when she caught me staring a bit too long and had to hasten to busy myself pretending to converse with a babbling Flurry.

Don’t look at me like that, Small Pony Book. She was quite fetching and smelled strongly of love. Anyone, changeling or pony, could be forgiven for letting their mind wander to fantasy. And, to be honest, changeling culture never forbade taking pony mates. Quite the opposite in fact. Free food and companionship. What wasn’t to like?**

“Thorax,” Princess Celestia said, “this is Redwood and Rowen Oak, two of my trusted staff ponies.” Turning to them, she smiled. “The two of you may take the next hour off, with the condition that you remain out of sight until I give word.”

The twins raised their brows in near changeling unison. Redwood pricked one ear up while laying the other flat. “Far be it from me to question you, Princess, but why such an odd request?”

“Ah. Funny you should ask. You see, my grand-niece has requested a little game of sorts from her favored changeling—” she gestured toward me with a little flick of her wing “—and I will be joining. For that, we’ll need you two to make yourselves discrete while we …” Princess Celestia trailed off as her horn flashed a brilliant gold. Her body was wrapped in a translucent veil, which fell away to reveal a perfect copy of Rowen Oak. With a cough, she continued in what I could only guess was an imitation of the young earth pony, “While we have a little fun, Red.”

Rowen Oak tittered. “Oh, my! Does that make me Princess Celestia for the time being?” she asked playfully, glancing at Redwood and myself in turn. “And just what does Princess Flurry want to sneak around for?”

Sensing those ancient eyes upon me again, I coughed. “Er, probably sweets. She, ah, likes it when I sneak around with her so we can steal some from the kitchens back home.”

“Cookie!” Flurry chimed from Princess Celestia’s back as if she sensed her cue. “Sneak cookie!”

“Yes. She likes sneaking cookies.” In the loosest possible interpretation of the word sneaking, of course.

“And why shouldn’t she? Sneaking treats is quite fun, if I do say so myself. It wins me a snack, and keeps my dear Raven on her hooves.” There was a familiar flash of mischief in the fake Rowen Oak’s eyes, she gestured toward me. “Aren’t you going to put on yours, Thorax?”
I almost jumped straight out of my carapace in my haste to acquiesce to her question. With little more than the slightest concentration of will and focus on Redwood’s form and a quick burst of changeling magic, green fire washed over polished carapace, headfins, fangs, and blue eyes to change it to match him down to the very way he carried himself—head high, shoulders squared, and short tail groomed to perfection.

The real Redwood brought a hoof to his lips. “My word, it’s like looking in a mirror,” he breathed.

High praise for a changeling, to be true. I ducked my head and mumbled my thanks.

Princess Celestia stepped forward, chuckling in her guise. “Yes, quite a splendid job my dear Thorax—or brother, for the time being,” she said, casting a quick wink and then a nod toward the door. “Shall we?”

“Y-Yes!” I hurried forward and opened the door for her. “After you?”

“My, such a gentlestallion,” she teased, pausing to nuzzle Flurry’s nose. “Now remember, dear, we’re sneaking. No calling me Auntie, remember?”

Of course Flurry knew. She was hardly a novice at the fine art of sneaking. Why, with a little more training, I could have her ready to hunt and pounce like a proper changeling. Well. Maybe not hunting. Pouncing, though, I’ve seen Princess Cadence do once or twice. Usually, Shining is the victim.

Flurry bobbed her little head and threw her hooves around her disguised “Auntie” with a happy squeal, her pink-white feathers fluffed and fluttered merrily.

Princess Celestia guided me down the corridor, staying close to the walls so we could slink about in the shadows and weave our way around the busy staff ponies and guard patrols. A couple of them did glance in our direction, but a quick change of posture—from hunched low to standing tall and trotting with purpose—was all it took to turn their curious gazes to smiles and polite nods or salutes, with one or two sparing a wave and waggle of the ears to Flurry, as we trotted by.

There was a part of me that felt I should speak up about this. Didn’t it concern her that we, two disguised characters, could practically walk wherever we wished with little effort while carrying such an important charge? Why, we could almost take her beyond the grounds if we were so inclined! At least the guards back home knew it was me carrying her along!

Unless, a little voice that sounded suspiciously like Shining Armor noted, they already knew from Princess Luna. Or perhaps the guards knew well enough that none of the princesses would ever approve of little Flurry being removed from the grounds by anypony but their parents, or at least with several guards escorting her through the city.

Subtle. I had to look at the guards in another light after this thought. For all I knew, their minds went through all of this at blinding speed, considering all prospects and relaying communications to fellow patrols so there was no such attempt made. Such a thing would speak highly to their dedication.

Not to mention how their princesses had ordered them to stay alert, but not move without cause.

So, in a way, we were sneaking. We were sneaking within a certain amount of wiggle room, where the slightest deviation from the norm might alert others to our little game.

I won’t lie, Small Pony Book, I was thrilled. I am a changeling through and through, the thrill of such sneaking and subterfuge is like the scent of fresh baked cake or cookies, or a deep drink of love from both of my generous hosts while they nuzzle one another.

It’s really good for me, is what I’m getting at. One day, I should like to enjoy a little more mischief. Like I did when I was in the hive.

Though, maybe this time something more fun for the ponies around me. I will have to consult with one who understands such endeavors. Maybe Spike might make a recommendation. I shall write him once we return to the Empire.

To the point though, I was impressed by just how quiet my Overlady stayed when we did manage to avoid the eye of other ponies. She would keep her head down, pressed against Princess Celestia’s back to hide in the flowing curls of her false mane, looking up only to check our progress every now and again.

“Tora, soon?” she whispered.

Unsure, I looked to Princess Celestia and tried to smile. “Uh …”

“Just around this corner,” the disguised princess murmured in reply, the corners of her mouth twitched upward for a fraction of a second. But enough of a tell for an observant changeling. Or pony, even. “A left at the corner, then through the double doors. If I know A la Carte, he’s got a jar stashed away for when Raven deems that I’ve adhered to my diet well enough—cheeky things. It’s as if they think I’m a little filly—me! Why, I’ve been governing since before their great-great-great-great grandparents even met one another! Honestly!”

I opted to adhere to my old standby for things I didn’t quite understand: smiling and nodding along at intervals to appear as if I had any idea as to what she was talking about.

A most vital tactic I’ve developed, Small Pony Book. It works wonders when one feels like they’re trying to work with cold slime. Not fun.
We rounded the corner and, as promised, we came to a large set of double doors. Princess Celestia led the way, pushing through with a tiny flick of magic and gesture for me to follow along.

Once inside, I got a chance to look around the famed kitchens of Canterlot Castle. You may laugh, Small Pony Book, but even we changelings salivated at the chance to plunder the stores of such delicious food. Aside from pony love, I mean.

My jaw dropped. It was furnished splendidly, much like the rest of the castle. Marble floors were perfectly clean, despite the hustle and bustle of kitchen staff moving about to prepare meals, pots and pans and a whole host of assorted utensils hung from racks, wall hooks, and dangling hook apparatuses (I’m not sure what they’re called) above the workstations.

The ponies were busy, but that didn’t stop them from conversing and laughing with one another, exchanging jokes and stories while they worked quickly, but with a sort of casual air as if they were doing little more than folding laundry.

At the center of it all was a stallion on the smaller side. He was svelte, wearing a burgundy cook’s uniform over his gray coat. His brown mane was lightened with age and slicked back beneath a sports hat. A deep blue glow wreathed his horn as he expertly manipulated several knives to slice through several different sorts of vegetables as his keen eyes glanced over a recipe book.

Princess Celestia sucked in a breath through her teeth. “Well,” she whispered, “this does complicate things.”

“How so?”
She nodded toward the stallion. “That’s A la Carte. Do you see the cabinet behind him?”

I hadn’t, but after a second look, I did indeed see the very cabinet of which she spoke. It was rather simple—surprisingly so, for such a large kitchen. It was made of wood and painted white, but definitely showed its age. There were patterns of the suns and moons carved into the woodwork around the top of the doors.

At my nod, she continued, “He’s always teaming up with Raven to make sure I don’t sneak any, as I’ve mentioned. Usually, I can since he’s not around it, but today …” Her eyes narrowed. “It seems that my dear Raven has informed him that my grand-niece is visiting, and that I might wish to indulge a bit more while she’s with us. But now …”

Flurry whined and prodded her shoulder. “Auntie!” she whispered, pouting rather adorable. “Cookie, where?”

Princess Celestia turned to nuzzle her cheek again. “Just a moment, dear, we’re almost there. And remember, we’re still sneaking!”
The little filly quickly covered her mouth and aimed an apologetic look at us. I almost let out a fond chitter, but managed to swallow the urge. Only just.

“Well,” I said out of the side of my mouth, “with respect, Your Highness, we are disguised. As long as we keep the act up, we should be just—”

“Redwood, Rowan Oak!” A la Carte called from his workstation. I snapped to attention and looked up to find him laying his knives down and smiling at us. Or, rather, he was smiling at the little filly perched on Princess Celestia’s back. He trotted over and stopped a step away. “I didn’t know you were bringing visitors! Is this Cady’s little filly?”

Princess Celestia took a half second to remember herself, but she covered it beautifully. “Yes, she is.” She turned to present Flurry to him. My Overlady took one look at the old stallion and shyly hid behind her wings. “Come now, little Princess,” she teased in Rowan’s voice, “A la Carte doesn’t bite unless he catches the princesses trying to sneak cakes between meals.”

“Oh, don’t tell her that!” He laughed. “She’ll never come down to visit when she’s here. And it’s not that I mind the Sisters having a snack, Rowan, you know that.” Fixing her with a wry look, he raised a brow. “It’s just that neither of them ever heard of the word moderation when it comes to their sweets. Quite unlike somepony’s mommy, eh?” Beaming at Flurry, he took off his hat and offered his hoof. “You’re mommy was always so well-behaved, and used to bring me little pictures she drew when she was a filly.”

That got Flurry to lower her wings and look up at him with her big blue eyes. She reached out hesitantly for his hoof, stopping just short to look to me.

Even in disguise, she always knew I could be trusted. I smiled, probably not how the real Redwood might, but I wanted to make sure she saw I was still there when she needed, and gave a little nod. “Go on,” I said in his voice. “A la Carte only gives to little fillies who shake his hoof.”

The hat smacked me across the chest. The stallion glared at me, but couldn’t hide a grin. “Don’t you tell her that! If Cady hears that, I’m gonna hear it from her!”

That seemed to do the trick. At long last, Flurry touched her hoof to his and smiled. “‘Lo, Car,” she mumbled, trying her very best to say his name.

A la Carte waggled his ears and laughed. “She already knows my name! I’d say that definitely deserves a cookie. Maybe two.” He turned to open the cabinet, missing the way Flurry’s eyes lit up and her wings flared out, ready to fly out of pure glee.

He had just become her new favorite stallion after Shining with that little move. Poor Sunburst would have to be less stringent with his rules if he wished to regain his spot on the list.

The chef floated a large ceramic pot, painted sky blue with fluffy cloud designs gracing the sides. He removed the top and floated four cookies out, one for Princess Celestia and myself, the other two for a now bouncing, babbling Flurry Heart.

Truly, Sunburst would have to work hard to earn her favor once more.

I accepted my snack with a nod of thanks and took a bite. The sugary sweet taste played upon my tongue, almost as sweet as love itself. So close, so delicious, I could have savored it and been happy.

Of course, I am but a changeling, Small Pony Book. I could not help but devour it with the ravenous hunger that plagues my race. Our bellies may fill, but it is only temporary unless we have strong love to feed upon. I have only known true fullness a select few times in my life.

All have been in the company of my benevolent hosts. Their love is just so … pure. And some of it is even directed toward me.

Apologies for the dampness on the corner of your page. I began to drool at the memory. Fortunately, there was no slime with it. In order to appease you, I would like to finish my tale. For you see, Small Pony Book, things were going so very well at that moment.

The three of us were happily nibbling on our treats, hoof-given to us by the very stallion we thought to be our greatest obstacle to our noble cause. All seemed to be coming up sunshine, daisies, and warm cocoon slime.

But then I noticed a little movement out of the corner of my eye where there shouldn’t have been, right along the false Rowan Oak’s sides—exactly where Princess Celestia’s wings should have been.

My treat suddenly tasted of ash. I watched in muted horror as her illusion faded in and out, revealing feathers twitching and fluffing with naked glee.

I turned slowly, hoping and praying to the First Mother that A la Carte was either dense or inattentive.

He was neither.

His eyes narrowed. A la Carte’s gaze flitted from the false Rowan Oak’s sides to her face. I saw his jaw set angrily, his neck muscles tense. “Drop that illusion spell,” he ground out, “right now.”

Princess Celestia froze. For a split second she tried to look at him as if he’d grown a second head, it was almost convincing. Almost.
“Carte?” she said hesitantly. “What are you—”

“Don’t try to play this off like my eyes aren’t working! I’ve been in these kitchens for twenty-three years, I know those feathers when I see them, Your Highness!”

She flinched as if he’d struck her across the face, then hung her head. Without further argument, she let the illusion fall and in Rowan Oak’s place was Princess Celestia, in all her radiant glory. Or, at least, as radiant as one could look when they were being cowed by a stallion who only barely came up to her chest.

A la Carte’s eyes then fell upon me. “And I suppose you’re not really Redwood, are you?”

I shook my head. “I … this might be a bit jarring, but—”

“You’re the changeling who lives with Cady and Shining Armor, then,” he cut me off with a roll of his eyes. “The one we put in special orders to a couple griffon shops to get fish for. I’m well aware of who you are. Drop the disguise.”

Blinking, I did so in a flash of green fire. “M-My name is Thorax,” I found myself mumbling. “Why are you so … not surprised by this?”

“You mean aside from the fact that we were told in advance that we were going to have to learn to cook fish for a changeling and possibly see him feeding on a pony or two?” I nodded. “Because I’ve heard about you from Princess Celestia and Princess Luna. They say you’ve been helping to take care of this little one.” He paused to tilt his head toward Flurry.

“I do my best.”

“So I’ve heard.” He turned back to Princess Celestia and frowned. “You could have just asked, Princess. You know darn well I never gave a hoot about Raven getting snippy when it was you and Cady slipping treats.”

I chose that moment to insert myself between them. “Er, if I might, it wasn’t her idea exactly.” I pointed a chitinous hoof at my Overlady, who was still munching blissfully on her cookies. “It was Flurry’s.”

“You’re joking.”

“I’m not. She likes it when I change form and take her around the castle like we’re going to steal sweets or hide from Sunburst, her other foalsitter,” I quickly added. “It’s one of her favorite games. Princess Celestia offered to join us so we wouldn’t get lost.”

Raising a brow, he looked to the cowed princess. “That so?”

She nodded once.

A la Carte sighed through his nose and rolled his eyes again. Though this time, I saw the smallest of smiles tugging at his lips. And I swear I heard him mutter something about “this being just like when Cady and Twilight were here.”

He turned around and trotted back to his workstation, pausing to pat Flurry on the head. His horn flared to life so he could resume his work. After a moment, he said, “Raven won’t hear a word of this from me. But next time, feel free to drop the act when you’re all down here.” He glanced over his shoulder at us and raised his brows. “Diet and snippy mare or not, I’ll deal with Raven if she’s got a problem with me giving allowances for family time.”

I had seen Queen Chrysalis pounce on ponies, griffons, and diamond dogs before, always to sink her fangs into them and render them paralyzed so she could enjoy a meal. But she didn’t come close to the speed with which Princess Celestia closed the distance between herself and the chef when she seized him in an embrace that lifted him straight off the ground.

The love I smelled in the air was pure and so very enchanting. It was with great effort that I did not sidle over to the pair and feed passively.

Instead, I took my place at Flurry Heart’s side, earning a happy croon and a messy nuzzle as my reward.

All in all, our mission was a success. And, in the presence of two happy princesses, I could hardly say I was frightened anymore.

And then I realized that I still had to spend one on one time with Princess Luna.

Suddenly, I worry for what the evening holds. In both the real world and wherever my dreams may take me.

* "Lowly changeling" my cutie mark. Don't let Cady or I catch you saying that again, or I'll have you writing lines until you molt ... or whatever it is changelings do with their shells when they grow.

** ... Buddy, this is normally where I'd tease you silly and nudge you a few times to go ask the filly out, but she's a bit old for you as it is. Also, fair warning, Cady's going to see this eventually. So, instead of teasing, I'll just offer my sincerest condolences now and save the fun for the next time you show interest in a pony. Or a changeling, assuming you find one out of your old hive.

Author's Notes:

Thank you for reading through Thorax's journal! If you like what I'm doing, consider donating to my Patreon.

9. The Immortal Sisters Part 2

Dear Small Pony Book,

Thank you for being patient in awaiting the continuation of my tale once again. As you might imagine, being in the presence of the Immortal Sisters on top of my usual duties as Flurry Heart’s favored changeling and foalsitter have required the bulk of my attention over the course of this visit.

With that said, a lot has happened, so I will have to cover the most important things. That alone will make this a multi-part entry, a series if you will.

After the successful execution of the Canterlot Castle Cookie Caper—Princess Celestia’s choice of name, not mine—it was time for us to dine with the Sisters.

It was hardly the first time I’d dined with the Royal Family, as Princess Cadence and Shining Armor were always quite generous with their time and often insisted upon the company of myself and Sunburst, but this was the first time enjoying dinner in the company of Princesses Celestia and Luna. In their own home, no less.

We dined in what could only be some grand dining hall, where they must have held countless parties and meetings with dignitaries of nations I hadn’t even heard of. The table was long, stretching perhaps twenty or thirty ponies’ lengths from end to end, and was made of solid mahogany. Though my grasp of pony economics is cursory at best, I could glean from what I’d heard from the guards stationed around the Crystal Palace that such furnishing came at great cost.

Though given the castle the Sisters reside in, I would venture a guess and say that they might shrug off the cost in the same manner others might converse about the weather.

Then came the food.

The staff ponies wheeled forth metal carts bearing trays of steamed vegetables, salads of dandelions, daisies, and flowers I’d never seen before, what looked to be an onion soup, and a rather interesting looking dish which Sunburst informed me was called a quiche. It was, for any pony, a veritable feast. For a brief moment, I thought that I might need to see about using one of my benevolent hosts for a donation after their meal.

The last of the staff ponies had broken off from the rest of the group as they approached the Sisters, instead wheeling his cart around the table until he came to a stop behind my seat. He met me not with fear or nervousness—not by appearance or when I tasted the air around him—but with a polite bow of his head as he lit his horn and floated a dish covered by a metal dome over to rest before me. With a deft flick, he pulled the metal dome away to reveal my plate and the meal that awaited me.

My ears stood up straight. A wide grin spread across my chitinous face. “Fish!” I cried, sniffing at the steam wafting from the delicious meat. I could smell the vegetables awaiting me on the side, but my eyes nearly crossed at the sweet, delectable scent of cod. Pan fried, I believe, judging by the presence of butter and herbs in the mix.

“As A la Cart promised,” Princess Celestia replied, the merry twinkle in her eyes betraying her amusement at my reaction. “Do let me know how you like it. He confided in me that he was quite curious as to how your tastes might differ from ours, so there was a bit of … guesswork involved.

Guesswork or not, it was a gesture I could appreciate wholeheartedly. It smelled delicious, Small Pony Book. Almost as much as love from my generous hosts, though unable to hold a candle to that of Princess Cadence or the Sisters. Still, in my experience, something that smells so lovely could only be good to eat.

Though Shining Armor has made note of some forms of poisonous plants and flowers, so perhaps I should amend that to mean “things that smell lovely that come from the kitchens.” Unless of course, someone used one of those poisonous flowers in the ingredients.

That was rather insidious of me to mention, far too like my kin. I do apologize Small Pony Book. Please do not fear.

In any case, I opened my mouth and bared my fangs, then made as if to lunge upon the meat, but stopped short at a look from Princess Cadence. Slowly, I remembered her instructions from prior lessons. Diving face first into my food was rude in pony society. It was proper to use the little metal things—forks, knives, and spoons—to eat.

Carefully, as if lifting one of those fragile little glass bulbs from the Hearth’s Warming tree, I picked up the pointy one—the fork, I believe—and used a side to cut off a portion of delicious cod from the rest. I speared it on the prongs, then brought it to my lips and took a bite.

There are certain things I’ve eaten that have come close to love. I thought the steamed fish served in the Crystal Empire was the epitome of any solid food I might eat, that I would never find something that would come so close to love in taste.

I was so very wrong.

I must have devoured it as if it were a salmon I’d caught from the stream, with all the fervor of a ravenous changeling, because my plate was availed of its bounty in mere seconds, even the vegetables didn’t last longer than the few seconds it took my tastebuds to register that they weren’t meat, but still carried valuable nutrition.

When I raised my head and licked my lips clean of the remnants of my meal, I found myself met with a pair of amused looks from the Sisters. I sheepishly ducked my head and gave a nervous chitter. “Excuse me,” I mumbled.

“Pray, do not apologize on our account,” Princess Luna drawled, her lips curved into a vulpine smile. “A la Cart will be positively delighted to hear that our grand-niece’s favored changeling devoured his experimental dish with a fervor matched only by the Gryphon ambassador and his family.”

Princess Celestia came to my aid. “Oh, come now, Luna. He’s hardly as gauche as Steel Talon.” She cast a wink in my direction, then said, “I believe dear Thorax bears more kinship with our friends from the Wyvern Kingdom. You remember Nikita of the Craggy Peak Den, don’t you?”

“Verily, though he was a terrible cheat at card games in our younger days, was he not?”

“He was. Though we managed to out perform him in that regard, as I recall …”

My head spun as they launched into a recounting of events from centuries, even millennia long passed. Things which I doubted written history held record of, though I could at least take solace in the fact that my hosts and Sunburst looked just as confused as I felt.

On cue, Princess Cadence met my eye. She gave me the same dazzling smile that always made my wings buzz and my tongue flit out to catch the tiniest of tastes of love radiating from her, then shook her head and mouthed, “Don’t worry about it.”

I let out a breath. Confirmation was good. It meant that I wasn’t the only one, which also meant that I would not be pulled aside for a Lecture so I wouldn’t do something like cocoon Flurry Heart when it was time for her nap again.

That had been a particularly lengthy one, in no small part because I had been so very adamant in my way.

Princess Luna’s eyes turned toward me again. “I will confess, I do have questions regarding your kind, young Thorax. If you do not feel it uncomfortable to discuss, of course.”

Blinking, I considered the prospect. I supposed it couldn’t hurt to answer a question or two. After all, I did the same for Princess Cadence and Shining Armor when we were in the Empire. Why not the Sisters?

I smiled. “I don’t mind. What were your questions?”

She fluffed her feathers, leaning forward to prop her chin upon her hooves. “Your diet, for one,” she said, her eyes flitting to my plate then back to my face. “Changelings feed primarily on love, do they not?”

“We do.” I nodded slowly, furrowing my brows. “It’s the best thing for us, really. But not the only thing we eat.”

“That was my question, actually. You require only love to live, yet you eat fish, meats, and vegetables. An omnivorous race, as it were. I’m curious as to why you do not simply stick to whichever is most convenient.”

I opened my mouth to answer but paused in thought. It was a good question, admittedly. There was a simple answer, of course, but hardly satisfactory—and I had the distinct feeling that “because we just do” would be disrespectful even in Equestria’s more lax culture.

There was, however, a deeper answer. One that could make her see in her own terms.

“Ponies can eat grass, can’t they?” I asked.

Princess Luna arched a brow but nodded once. “Yes, we can.”

“You receive all the nourishment you require to live from it and water, right?”

“Correct. Why do you ask?”

“For the same reason you ask about us feeding on love—grass is everywhere, it’s far more convenient than growing crops or baking.” I tilted my head, sweeping my hoof out over the table. “Why don’t you just eat that instead of bothering with all of this?”

Silence reigned over everyone, save for my overlady as she giggled and played with her carrots. I watched as my hosts tapped their hooves against the table, Sunburst bobbed his head while he considered the pros and cons, and Princess Celestia simply smiled and nibbled on a lettuce leaf.

Princess Luna, on the other hoof, held my gaze. She steepled her hooves, regarding me as if I held some great mystery behind my eyes. Slowly, a smile began to tug at her lips—a genuine smile, not the teasing grin from before.

“I would hear your reasoning,” she said. “I believe I know it, but I would hear yours.”

My ear flicked at her tone. “Er, well, there’s more to life than just surviving,” I replied. “If I wished to simply survive, I could probably subsist on the love of Princess Cadence, Shining Armor, Sunburst, and Flurry Heart, and do petty errands around the Empire. But … as much as I do crave it, I also enjoy dining on fish. And sweets. It reminds me of when I would hunt and forage for food with my kin when we didn’t have … a source of love.”

If she thought anything of my little slip, she did not react. Rather, she laughed—Princess Luna threw back her head and let out such musical laughter that it filled me to the brim with joy and love, my favorite dessert when granted their sweet nectar.

“More to life than simply surviving,” Princess Luna repeated. “Bravo, young changeling. You are indeed young, but wise in your own way, aren’t you?”

I felt my cheeks flush. “I-I simply do as I am asked, Your Highness. I am grateful to be allowed to stay with Princess Cadence and Shining Armor, and enjoy the benefits of life under Equestrian rule.”

“Indeed. You are quite the interesting colt, I must say. Quite interesting.” Her smile took on a calculating edge.

A lump formed in my throat. I attempted to swallow it and found it a mix of my own slime and saliva. “Are there other questions you had for me?”

“Yes, of course.” Teal eyes gleamed. “Though not regarding your race as a whole.”

“Oh?” I blinked. “What then?”

She paused a moment to take a bite of quiche and chew on it thoughtfully. She swallowed it down, then replied, “You have already spent hours with my sister. Now, I request your company.”

My eyes darted from her to my hosts, who simply smiled and nodded in prompting. “Uh …”

“On my balcony,” Princess Luna continued, “we will sit beneath my stars and converse. We will take tea together if that is to your liking. I would offer something stronger, but fourteen is far too young for such things.”

“I do enjoy tea, but … I’m sorry, I’m confused. What exactly do you want to talk to me about?”

Her eyes twinkled like the stars in her night sky. “You, my dear colt,” she replied softly. “I wish to speak to the changeling my niece and her husband speak so highly of, and my grand-niece sees as a loving, doting caretaker. Or perhaps, a relative of sorts.”

A teal glow surrounded her cup of wine. She brought it to her lips and took a small sip, it did nothing to hide the pearly white teeth in her smile.

“I wish to speak to you so I may understand.”

Author's Notes:

Thank you for reading through Thorax's journal! If you like what I'm doing, consider donating to my Patreon.

10. The Immortal Sisters Part 3

Dear Small Pony Book,

Thank you for being patient with me once again. I truly did mean to continue writing straight through, but my overlady called and demanded that I entertain her with the ever-important silly faces. While Shining did tease me for “spoiling her,” I was happy to note that we were unable to partake in our morning ritual of silly faces and dodging oatmeal—the latter to my immense relief—due to our itinerary being so cramped.

With that said, I do owe you a second apology. You see, after we partook in silly faces, it was time for Flurry to take a bath. She objected to this, as she is so wont to do, and gave her very best effort to escape. We managed to catch her, thanks in no small part to my sense of smell and ability to track her by the taste of love and joy rolling from her tiny body like waves, though I doubt Princess Celestia expected to come within a hair’s breadth of changeling slime being spat in her general direction again.

I caught Flurry Heart, of course, and cocooned her neatly, but I did pause to apologize to the Princess and explain why it was necessary to capture my giggling, squealing overlady in such a manner.

Fortunately, she was most amused. Though I would wager she was also rather relieved I didn’t miss so she didn’t have to ask some poor pony to clean up the walls.

That, from what I heard after I took ill and was sneezing uncontrollably, was decidedly less fun than cleaning it out of my blankets.

But I won’t bore you with those details. Not this time.

Once we finished dinner—and I made sure to impress upon the staff ponies that I truly wished for A la Carte to know that the fish was one of the best meals I’d ever tasted that didn’t involve sipping love (high praise from a changeling)—Princess Luna rose from her seat with a fluff of midnight feathers and a swish of starry tail. Shortly thereafter, a pair of guards ponies in purple armor with silver trim were by her side as if they materialized out of thin air.

One of whom, a stallion of gray coat and ebony mane, leaned in to whisper something into her ear. I thought for a moment that he looked familiar. Either he had been a subject of our pre invasion discussions, or he was simply known to us by reputation. One of the two.

Princess Luna listened patiently, then nodded. “Thank you, Erebos,” she replied. “Inform Lieutenant Strider that we’ll need an additional layer of security when the ambassador and his wife come to visit, then retire for the evening.”

The stallion, Erebos, bowed his head. “Yes, Princess. Thank you.”

“You’re quite welcome, Captain.” The corners of her mouth twitched. “And do say hello to Night Chill and the foals.”

“I’ll do so.” With another salute, he turned and trotted briskly away. The steady clip-clop of his hooves echoed off the walls.

It clicked just as he exited the door and disappeared down the hall. Captain Erebos. One of the most infamous members of the Night Guard in modern times.

With a family history to match.

I swallowed a mouthful of changeling slime. He was one of the ones we were to do our best to stay away from unless we had numbers, and we were ordered specifically to run if he tried tricking us into following him into anyplace with a convenient hiding spot.

The Night Guard don’t just fight face to face like their daytime counterparts. No, Small Pony Book, they are quite happy to engage changelings in our own way. And the bat ponies have done it longer and better. They have a certain … way of scenting us out.

And they do not like us.

Princess Luna turned to me and raised a brow, drawing me out of my momentary stupor and the quick prayers I’d been sending to the First Mother (namely, my thanks that Erebos was leaving the castle). “Come along, changeling ours,” she said teasingly, gesturing toward the door with a slight toss of her head. “I promise I don’t bite.”

Even I could not help but note the irony in that statement. But I felt it wise not to point that out. Certainly not in the presence of another Night Guard. Or, well, the entire Royal Family save for Princess Twilight.

That joke might be in poor taste.

I rose as asked and gave a little bow of my head toward my hosts and Princess Celestia, then stuck my tongue out and waggled it at Flurry when she waved her hooves and crossed her eyes, as that was her usual sign for wanting a preview of silliness.

Once that was complete, I walked around the end of the table to meet Princess Luna. She smiled as bright as the stars in her night sky, then beckoned me to follow her out of the dining room and into the hall.

For all intents and purposes, I was under her command for the evening.

By the way her feathers fluffed as we ascended the grand staircase and trotted down the hallway, and as the bright decor and images of Princess Celestia bathed in sunlight changed to darker shades, visions of fantasy, and Princess Luna herself basking in the glow of soft moonlight, I could hazard a guess that she quite enjoyed the prospect.

I, Small Pony Book, was a novelty to her. One she was quite eager to observe.

Lucky me?

I found myself seated on a most comfortable cushion on Princess Luna’s private balcony. In fact, I dare say this was the most comfortable cushion I’d even reclined upon, and still wonder if this was what I heard the pegasus guards talking about when they spoke of sleeping on clouds.

Princess Luna sat in a blue cushion a short distance to my right, with a small table and tea set between us. There were also cookies of various sorts. Peanut butter, chocolate chip, and some sort of cinnamon cookie she referred to by a name I found most ridiculous (and, therefore, perfectly pony): “snicker doodle.”

“Try them,” she insisted when she saw the face I pulled while attempting to test the name myself. Her eyes danced with glee as she elected one from the plate and nibbled on an edge. “Since my return, they have been my favorite sweets. Perhaps with the exception of those charming little cakes referred to as moon pies.”

I had never tried a moon pie, nor even heard of them, but I chose to nod along and do as commanded. I plucked one of the cookies from the plate and brought it to my nose, drawing in a few snuffling sniffs to see if it might be okay for me to eat. I smelled the familiar scent of cinnamon, which is very much like how Princess Cadence smells and tastes when she gives Shining Armor a certain look. A tasty snack, but I’ve learned that particular time is not a good one to ask for a drink.

Still, cinnamon is a lovely taste. Other than that scent, though, it was just a regular cookie. Freshly made, by the way I could press the edge of my fang into it and have it sink in rather than the cookie crumble. The warmth was also a hint.

Satisfied with my initial examination, I brought the cookie to my lips and took a bite.

The sweet spice of cinnamon and sugar danced on my tongue like someone had set off a fireworks display within my mouth. My breaths quickened, I let out a hungry hiss and devoured the first cookie before Princess Luna could even begin to laugh. A second followed in short order, then a third.

We changelings are not known for taking the time to eat slowly when something appeals to us. Unless it’s particularly powerful love.

It took great effort on my part to stop before I ended up devouring the entire batch, but I managed. It would have been incredibly rude, I told myself, to rob her of her favored treat. Even in changeling society, we have such thing as good manners. Ours are just … well, they are a little similar. In a way.

“I take it,” Princess Luna began with no shortage of humor evident in her tone, “that we should request more snickerdoodles be made the next time you visit?”

I felt my cheeks burn. My faceplate must have flushed a deep black as I nodded, for she threw back her head and let out a musical laugh. The stars in her night sky seemed to twinkle and dance in time with her mirth.

“Oh, you young ones!” she said between titters. A coy grin spread across her face. “Whether changeling or pony, it seems, there is one constant: you, dear changeling, are quite easy to tease.”

Licking my lips, I took a sip of tea to give myself a moment to think up a retort. “Most who try to challenge changelings don’t like the mischief they invite,” I replied.

If anything, her grin only widened. “And those who challenge the Princess of Night to a contest of trickery come to learn that she is the master.” Then she cast a wink at me. “But do try if you wish. It has been a lifetime since any other than Tia would engage in such frivolities with me. Even my Night Guard tone it down, as the young ponies say, around me. As if the poor dears forget who I am.”

A reply that I believed quite the opposite—that they were painfully aware that she was their princess and thus due their utmost respect—was on the tip of my forked tongue, but I withheld it. Instead, I offered a nervous smile and continued drinking my tea.

The silence between us didn’t last too long, fortunately. Princess Luna took it upon herself to begin herself, after a sip of her own tea. “I will confess, you have been the subject of much curiosity since I learned of your presence in the Crystal Empire. Namely, in how different you seemed in nature from your kin.”

I couldn’t help but wince. “It’s not exactly their fault,” I muttered, my gaze falling to the warm tea in my cup. “The Queen made sure we were all conditioned to act like that. Anything was solved with fighting. Anything that involved food was to be grabbed and fed on until it couldn’t feed us anymore. The only real fun we had was if we were allowed to cause mischief when we were in disguise.”

“How dreadful.” I heard her sigh and looked up to see Princess Luna shaking her head. “It must have been difficult growing up in such conditions.”

I won’t go into detail as to what I remembered in that instant, but it wasn’t pretty. I recalled the disciplining, the yelling, the feeling of fangs sinking into my neck more than once.

Most of all, I recalled those eyes. Those wicked green eyes with catlike slits, glowing with rage. Or, even more often, shining with sadistic glee as she watched us fight and scrap with one another over bits of food or sips of love while she took the greatest share for herself.

I blinked twice and shook my head clear, only to find her staring back at me with concern written plain upon her face. “I’m sorry,” I said. “Is something the matter?”

“I believe it is I who should be asking you that question, young Thorax.” Her brow arched. “You look as though you’ve fallen ill. Does cinnamon not agree with changelings?”

A shake of my head was all the response I could give her at first. I took a deep breath and squeezed my eyes shut. “Just bad memories,” I forced myself to say. “If it’s not too much to ask, would you mind if we … not talk about it?”

Princess Luna gazed at me quietly for a moment longer. I thought I saw her expression falter, like someone watching another suffer, knowing they could do nothing to help.

At last, she nodded. “Of course. I will respect your wishes on the matter.” She fixed a small smile upon her face, whether because she felt happy or to try to reassure me, I wasn’t quite certain.

But I found myself returning it nonetheless. Albeit a bit weakly.

“Let us speak of my family, then,” she said. “You have shown yourself to be quite taken with young Flurry Heart.”

My earfins perked up. “My overlady is wonderful,” I replied.

“Truly?”

“Oh, yes! She is fun to play with and so very full of love! It positively radiates off her, and surrounds everyone around her like she’s trying to wrap them in a blanket all at once!” I gave my wings a merry buzz. “And, if I might say, her ability to escape and evade our attempts to capture her for bedtime or baths is quite impressive.”

She let loose another musical laugh. “Oh, foals often are, my dear changeling.” Her eyes glittered. “Though, I dare say my grand niece’s penchant for accidental magic coupled with her flight makes things interesting, no?”

My wince must have been quite pronounced, for she had to cover her mouth to withhold a snort. Still, I nodded. “I have found myself embedded in the wall once or twice. Though I do adore Flurry and everyone in the castle, I will not be taking the full force of her magic again. That, I believe, is more for Sunburst or Shining.”* I paused a moment, then hastily added, “Please don’t tell Shining I said that.”

“I seem to have forgotten the last several seconds of conversation. Old age can be so cruel to the mind, as my sister might say,” Princess Luna replied without hesitation, though she did fix me with an approving look before casting another wink. “Shining Armor could use a little excitement in his life to keep him fit.”

I wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that comment, so I opted to move along. “My hosts—Shining and Princess Cadence, that is—have been most welcoming and understanding as I try to learn the proper way to conduct myself. Princess Cadence, in fact, was quite instrumental in taking me aside and explaining why I should ask for love first, as well as why it might be considered rude or a bit odd if I were to go up to a couple on their day out and note how the strength of their love made them delicious.”

“That you would change enough to ask demonstrates a great willingness to adapt your way to ours. However, yes, I would agree that you should avoid such practices.”

Here, I felt a nervous chitter begin in the back of my throat, which I forcible quashed. “It was fortunate that it came up when I commented on them one evening … but also rather awkward.”

She snorted. “I would imagine so. But onto happier things. Tell me, what else have you learned from my niece and her stallion?”

I perked up at that, delighted to move on and tell her about all the things they had taught me or shown me since they granted me asylum. She laughed uproariously when I recounted the tale of the first day I attempted to put Flurry down for her nap, and nearly had a coughing fit when I told her of my reasoning. My stories on how they both had to take me aside to explain some of the differences of pony society brought a more attentive look and a slight furrowing in her brows, which only deepened when I broached the subject of discipline.

She heaved a mournful sigh and shook her head. “Every time?” she asked softly. “Each failure?” At my nod, Princess Luna clenched her eyes shut, drawing in a deep breath through her nose. I saw her shoulders tense and wings begin to unfurl like an angry pegasus ready for a fight.

Every fiber of my being screamed at me to find a good place to hide. Or a nice pony to shove in a closet so I could take their form and avoid her ire. I’d let them out after she went galloping by, of course.

Slowly, Princess Luna let out the breath she’d been holding and opened her eyes. “I suppose it does make sense, in some way,” she muttered more to herself than me. Turning to me once more, she forced a tiny smile. “Onward, onward from such things. You have sated my curiosity on all but one count, young Thorax. One I admit has been perhaps my greatest wonder.”

Ever eager to please our rulers, I sat up attentively with my ear fins perked and ready.

“I am certain you are quite aware that I am the Princess of Night,” she said, “but few know of my dominion over the realm of dreams. All dreams. I am permitted to enter and aid those trapped in nightmares, guiding them along in my own way to avail them of what torments them in their sleep.”

My heart skipped a beat. Maybe two. “Uh …” I bit my lip. I didn’t know what to do or say!

Princess Luna turned to face me fully. Her moonlit eyes fixed me in place. “I have seen yours as well. Lovely images, to be true, along with terrible nightmares of your past. I have avoided intervening upon my niece’s request, but I feel I must ask about one which has raised an interest in all of us.”

“O-Oh?” I stammered. “Wh-What might that be?”

The tiny smile upon her face spread. “I have seen a scene of great joy,” she continued. “Ponies, changelings, and a rather familiar young dragon, all together in a field.”

I knew that one. It was … I haven’t written about it because I worry it’s a bit too farfetched. But deep down … yes. Yes, I know it.

“There is no fear in the ponies, nor ravenous hunger and want to torment in your kin. Rather, there is only joy. I have seen young changelings and foals at play, chasing one another through the forests, play wrestling, both our kind living in communities together. I have seen changelings rise to the defense of ponies, and vice versa. I have seen ponies offer love and changelings take only what is offered, never more, never less.”

“Yes,” I replied, my voice barely more than a whisper.

Princess Luna reached out and touched my hoof. “Were you worried to meet my sister and I?” she asked.

“Terrified.” I swallowed a mouthful of slime. “I was there when we took Princess Cadence. I was here through it all, even if I didn’t want to be.”

“You told them upfront,” came her reply. “We are aware of your tale, changeling ours. But each of us, in our own way, has seen something in you that I wager you thought we might ignore. We have seen something you saw in our own kin, something I believe, with great sadness, that you think they will ignore should you leave my niece’s palace.”

I was almost afraid to ask.

I was afraid to ask.

“What is it?”

Her hoof left mine. Then I found it placed upon my chest plate, right over where my heart beat beneath the thickest part of my carapace. “You have a wonderful heart, Thorax,” she replied. “I can glean it from your dreams alone, my sister from the lessons you learn, my niece from the love you offer those around you, her husband from the bonds you share, and my grand niece from the games you play to make her smile. Your love, changeling ours, will not go ignored if you allow others to see it.”

I had to swallow again. I felt my faceplate flush as my gaze fell to the marble floor. “I … I just want things to change.”

Princess Luna leaned in, as if to share a secret, and whispered, “What desire in thine heart creates such visions?”

“It’s … silly.”

“Tell me. Allow me to be the judge of that.”

My eyes squeezed shut. “I just want everyone to be happy,” I whispered. “I want us to be able to make friends with ponies, to laugh and play and hold jobs. I want ponies to stop looking at us with fear. I just … I wish everyone could get along because maybe that way … we wouldn’t always be hungry.”

Princess Luna’s hoof left my chest in favor of cupping my chin and gently turning my head up to meet her eyes once more.

The stars above were brighter than I’d ever seen.

“Your dream,” she said, “is wonderful, Thorax. Never doubt that. Not for an instant. Maybe someday, in some far off future, the chance will come. Until then, hold onto it. Dream it. Live it. Your friendship with Spike changed the way we saw you. Perhaps now, it’s your turn to change the way we see your kind.”**

With her piece said, Princess Luna patted my shoulder and turned to gesture to the plate of cookies. “My curiosity has been sated. And knowing my dear mare-in-waiting, I will be in for a scolding if I ruin my diet by eating many more, but I am loathe to leave A la Carte’s hard work unappreciated.” Her ears waggled. “Would you mind assisting me in this endeavor?”

I couldn’t help but smile and run my tongue along the lips and the side of my snout. “I would be happy to, Princess.”

*Sleep with one eye open, buddy. You’re gonna wish you’d never heard of water balloons by the time I’m through.

**It isn’t silly, Thorax. Come talk to Cady and I when you feel ready to discuss it, but I want you to know that neither of us think this is silly. Far off? Maybe. But not silly. Quite the opposite. As Luna said, this is a wonderful dream. Hold onto it. We will too.

In fact, Thorax, I’m going to do my best to help. It might be difficult, but in the end, I think I might have one or two ideas on how to make this happen.

Author's Notes:

Thank you for reading through Thorax's journal! If you like what I'm doing, consider donating to my Patreon.

11. A Change in Plans

Dear Small Pony Book,

I am pleased to inform you that our visit to Canterlot has gone quite well, though saddened to state that today was our final day in the great city. However, I am even more pleased at something else that happened. So much so that I must apologize for my inability to stop chittering and buzzing my wings as I write this entry.

What happened, you ask?

I shall be delighted to tell you. But bear with me, this is going to take a little bit to get to.

When it came time for us to leave the Sisters’ company, we found ourselves once again faced with the daunting task of packing. Lots and lots of packing. At very least, I knew how to organize all of Flurry Heart’s belongings by bag and fit them inside so we did not waste space, a trick Shining Armor went to great lengths to show me the first time around.

“One of the first things you learn in the Royal Guard,” he said with a wink as he carefully fit a bottle of baby powder into the corner of a bag, “is how to fit everything you own into one bag. That way, when you get reassigned or shipped off to a forward position, it’s easy to grab it all and go.”

An admirable method, if I do say. We changelings aren’t exactly known for having much in the way of belongings—I do not think charmed ponies count, since they technically belong to the hive as a whole—but the ability to move as the Queen commands is paramount to unity and the survival of the hive.

Therefore, it must stand to reason that the fine ponies who serve the princesses and the herd of Equestria as a whole should be able to do the same.

It would seem that, in some areas, changelings and ponies are quite similar, Small Pony Book. Namely, when it came to serving our rulers.

Once packing had been concluded, I decided to occupy my remaining time with entertaining my overlady. Tickles, cuddles, and raspberries blown on her belly coaxed squeals of delight from her lips and made her waggle her hooves gaily. Her feathers fluffed and wings beat in vain as she tried to escape my grasp, whether to flee or attempt to retaliate, I do not know. However, I was well-versed in the art of keeping her captive and occupied when her parents were busy. A well-timed draw back and waggle of my tongue whilst shaking my head from side to side like a playful dog made her clap her hooves together and cry out.

She knew what time it was.

“Faces! Tora, faces!”

Faces, indeed! Just what my overlady deserved after behaving so well on our trip.

In a flash of green fire, I changed my face. Gone was my smooth carapace, angular snout, fangs, and blue and white eyes. In their place, a warm orange coat with a white streak down my nose, a wild auburn mane and matching beard, and the biggest, goggliest blue eyes I could muster behind square rimmed glasses with extra thick lenses.

I stuck out my flat, pony tongue and crossed my eyes at her, then spoke in our resident Crystaller’s nasally voice, “Flurry, no! Don’t levitate that jar! Mommy said no cookies before dinner!”

Flurry wriggled in my grasp. “Yes, cookie, Sun!” she squeaked in reply, playing along like the brilliant overlady she was. Then she reached out to press her tiny hoof against my nose. Her little way of “making” me change. Laugh if you will, but I shall sorely miss it should she ever grow out of the habit.

I changed again. This time, I assumed the guise of her father—a pristine white coat with two-toned blue mane, and wide blue eyes that flitted this way and that, searching for the little filly in my hooves as if she weren’t right in front of me.

Because, really, Prince-Captain, how do you miss this lovely little ball of energy, love, and boundless joy? How? Perhaps Sunburst could recommend an eye doctor, for I cannot imagine poor sight being good in your line of work.

“Where’s Flurry?” I called in his voice, waggling my ears for effect. “Wheeeeeeeere’s my little filly?”

Flurry snorted and covered her mouth, trying desperately to hold back any noise that might “reveal” her presence.

Naturally, she couldn’t. Nor could she stop herself from squirming in my hooves like a little grub looking for attention. She did, however, manage to poke my nose again, just as I leaned in and made to blow another raspberry on her belly.

Well played, Flurry Heart. You have learned well.

As a reward, I changed again. This time, however, I decided to take on a new face. One I knew she would adore. A quick shift later, and I shrunk to about two-thirds my size, holding Flurry carefully in my shorter, stubbed arms as I used a muscular tail to help me balance on two short, stubby legs with clawed toes.

“Unca Spi!” she cheered, rubbing her cheek against smooth purple scales while her tiny hooves reached out to poke and prod the tiny green fins on either side of my face.

I did my best to imitate that delightful nervous chuckle my first friend loved to give. “Hey there, Flurry,” I said. “Have you been a good filly?”

Any effort to decipher her foalish babble would have been in vain for most, but for those who knew her well enough, it was a simple matter of educated guesswork. Or, in my case, I preferred to assume that her answer was something which allowed me to tease her further when we were playing our games.

“Oh, really?” I asked, grinning as I began a tickly assault on her unguarded sides with my new claws. My overlady shrieked, helpless to fight against such nimble digits no matter how valiant her efforts. “I hear that you like to cause lots of trouble, little filly!”

“Noooooooooo! Spi, nooooooooooo!” she cried through her laughter.

“Uh huh! Thorax told me all about how you run from everypony when it’s time for baths, or how you throw oatmeal at him when he and Sunburst try to feed you!”

“He says,” Shining drawled from somewhere behind us, “despite his knack for leaping out of the way and letting poor Sunburst take the brunt of her little breakfast volleys.”

Whatever my hosts tell you, I most certainly did not jump in fright, Small Pony Book. Nor did I let out a strangled, gasping chitter as I whirled about, dropped my disguise, and fell hard upon my backside, mercifully still able to keep a good hold on my giggling overlady.

They stood over me, Princess Cadence and Shining Armor, with amused smirks playing upon their lips, their ears wagging, and tails swishing gaily. Worse, the Sisters were right behind them, watching the proceedings with poorly hidden grins of their own.

“H-Hello, everypony,” I greeted.

“Good morning, changeling ours,” Princess Luna replied. “T’would seem that our niece was correct. Your silly faces are quite adorable indeed.”

Much to my consternation, Princess Celestia nodded, her feathers fluffing. “Quite so. And just look at his cheeks, Lulu. How adorably they flush such a deep black, no? It looks like we know that changelings can in fact blush.”

True enough, I would wager A la Carte could have cooked salmon on my face it felt so hot. I held Flurry Heart close to my chest, like my own little security cocoon, then bowed my head out of respect. Not at all an attempt to hide myself in the curls of her mane. “Princesses,” I said in a more level tone. “Is there something you needed my assistance with?”

“In a manner of speaking,” Princess Cadence replied. “We’re about ready to head out, but we have a couple little changes to the itinerary.”

My earfins twitched. “What sort of changes?”

“You’ll see.” She smiled and motioned for me to rise, a command I obeyed without hesitation. “Come along, Thorax. We’re going to take a little trip into town.”

I confess, my throat did tighten. Go into town? Into Canterlot proper like this? Traveling by carriage with the Sisters was one thing, this was an entirely different matter. “Would it be all right if I went as Crystal Hoof?” As I finished, I assumed my favored guise, perfectly imitating sleek crystalline coat and decidedly unthreatening coltish build.

All four Royals frowned, but did not voice any complaint. Something told me that I was missing some rather important details.

Shining forced a smile. “Sure, buddy. You can go out as Crystal Hoof.” He tossed his head toward the door. “Now, come on, we need to get a move on so we can make good time on the train south.”

South? What in the First Mother’s name was south? I tilted my head, but opted to accept it. Who was I to question their itinerary? Wherever my hosts deigned that I go, I would be there.

My hosts and I were joined by Sunburst in the foyer, where we exchanged our goodbyes with the Sisters. Everyone received tight, affectionate hugs, myself included! Princess Celestia even allowed me to take a generous sip of love. “For the road,” she said with a playful wink.

I cannot describe her taste in words. All I know is that I … I had never tasted anything so wonderful. If sunshine, rainbows, the laughter of families at play, and springtime could be called a flavor, it would all still pale in comparison to that of her love.

I don’t think I realized that we’d walked deep into the city until Shining bumped shoulders with me, though it did nothing to diminish the goofy grin upon my glimmering, crystalline face.

“Huh-wha?” I asked dumbly.

He shot me a smirk. “I said wake up, Thorax. Take a look around.”

Confused, I did as asked, letting my eyes widen just beyond normal pony proportions so I could take in as much detail in an instant as possible.

My hosts had led me to a rather curious store. It was a smaller place, based on what I’d seen while walking around the Empire in my Crystal Hoof form with either they or Sunburst. The walls were lined with dark wooden shelves that must have been over a decade or so old. The ceiling hung low enough that I daresay Princess Celestia would nearly scrape her horn against it as she entered, to say nothing about the light fixtures. A quick glance down at the tile floor showed that the owner had opted to go with a polished, black tile. Though everything was old, even I could see that it had been cleaned and maintained with utmost devotion rivaling that with which my old hive mates approached their duties.

As said, there are some ways in which our races are quite alike, Small Pony Book. I find myself quite encouraged by this whenever I should find it so.

But my focus was drawn to the books lining the shelves. They stood nearly as tall as the thick texts I’d seen in the Crystal Palace’s great library however they were, for the most part, quite thin. Oh, there were some that were about the size of one of the smaller books from the library, but each had a cover and backing made of an oddly glossy-looking material. There was one such book open on the counter, being read by a rather bored young mare—perhaps a year or two my senior, since age apparently matters—who had yet to notice our presence.

Something told me this mare, with her mane colored electric blue and bright pink, several silver earrings lining the outside of her alabaster ears, and a matching pendant hanging from a chain, did not have the excuse of a sip of love from Princess Celestia as I had.

My hosts, however, paid her no attention save for the briefest of glances. Instead, they motioned for me to follow while Flurry bounced in the foal pouch hanging around her mother’s shoulders.

“Twily and I used to bring Spike here all the time when he was little,” Shining said, answering several of my questions before I could decide which to voice first. “Mostly me, since comics were more my bag, but this was his reward for behaving well or doing well in his lessons.”

Princess Cadence hip bumped him. “Excuse me, I do recall that I came along a few times as well,” she teased. “And brought him in while the two of you were busy with guard duties or studying. And just who do you think helped me pick out those mint condition comics you had been specifically looking for to complete your collection? I had a little informant.”

“Right, right. How could I forget?” He cast a wink in my direction, then nodded toward one of the shelves. “Why don’t you take a look, Thorax? You can pick something up for Spike, that late Hearth’s Warming present we mentioned we’d help you find.”

My ears waggled. That was right! We hadn’t yet gone on that shopping expedition—no, wait, trip. Shopping trip—to acquire a present to make up for my lack of one sent to Spike for Hearth’s Warming. Things had been so busy with the visit to Canterlot, I hadn’t even thought to ask.

Coming to his favorite comic book store was a perfect idea.

Or, at least, it was until I started actually looking over the selection. My eyes wandered aimlessly over titles. Batstallion, Supermare, Spider-Mare, The Night Watch, and an odd one called Tartarus Blazer. It was only then that I realized a key flaw in my hosts’ carefully crafted plan they likely hadn’t counted on:

I, Small Pony Book, have never read one of these strange books, nor do I have any inkling as to what Spike might enjoy.

A nervous chitter nearly began in the back of my throat, but I managed to feign a groan instead. That would have been a bit awkward.

“What’s the matter, buddy?” Shining asked. “Not seeing anything you think he’d like?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know what sort of books he would like to begin with.”

He tilted his head back. “Ah, my mistake. Well, he does love superhero stories, so you’re in the right section for that. The question, though …” he trailed off as he let his eyes sweep over the selection.

“Is finding one he doesn’t have,” Princess Cadence finished in his stead. She approached, her soft feathers tickling my side as she drew nearer. Her brows furrowed in concentration. “If I recall, he’s read most of these,” she noted, gesturing through the selection I’d been looking over. Then her hoof stopped on the first issue of The Night Watch. “This one he liked because it had a sort of oddball cast of characters.”

“An oddball cast?” I found myself asking.

“Ponies teaming up with a couple diamond dogs, a griffon, and … I think a giraffe, at one point. Sort of a group who don’t get a lot of play in most stories, so to speak, and it made the story fun.”

Fun. Unique. I could surely figure something like that out. After all, we were a changeling and a dragon and we were friends. There isn’t anything much more unique than that, in my humble opinion.

I decided to start by pulling these strange books off the shelf and reading over the title, paying special attention to the characters on the cover. They were all colorful, as ponies so often are, but nothing really jumped out at me. Nothing by the companies Wonder and District of Canter, at least. “The big two” as Shining called them.

He then steered me toward another section. A section full of comics produced by a group called Trotter’s Tales. Curious, I selected a title I found quite intriguing: Out of the Mist.

I won’t go into detail as to how coming out of the mist seemed perfect for a natural hunter such as myself, Small Pony Book, but know that it spurred a flutter in my heart and heat in my blood only when I was able to enjoy some quality time skulking around the Crystal Palace, or when Flurry and I went on our secret missions.

As I have said before, I am a changeling, Small Pony Book, and I do not pretend to be anything but that. Er, disguise aside.

Hush.

I sat down on the floor and opened the book to the first page, then began to read. To my surprise, these comic books were not in the typical format of a book—that is to say, there were more pictures than actual text. The scenes where of a city called Frontier, a large city near the edge of Equestria’s border with the Griffon Territories. A young dragon named Flametooth living as a bit of an outsider among ponies—not quite scorned, but looked at with no shortage of suspicion by those in his neighborhood—began the tale with a brief summation of the state of things in his city.

Crime was rampant. Gangs of diamond dogs, rogue griffons, young drakes, and even the odd changeling caused no shortage of trouble on a nightly basis. Angry at it all, Flametooth donned a black cloak and hood, casting a special rune he’d learned from his late parents to hide his face, save for his eyes. The young dragon, dubbed Nightfury by the local newspapers, then began a personal war against the criminals who plagued his city.

Somewhere along the way, much to my surprise, he met a changeling named Chaete, the youngest member of a street gang with a penchant for using her talents to lure ponies into beatings in alleys or gain access to banks. I felt my heart leap into my throat as they battled. Page after page, I read through until he managed to defeat her, leaving her exhausted and defenseless and he barely able to stand. Defiant, Chaete vowed that her fellows would break her out of any prison he sent her, for their bond was greater even than her hive, but Nightfury simply scoffed and asked but one question:

“If they really cared, do you really think they’d have run and left you to fight me alone?”

It was a valid point, never once had I seen them make any move to assist her in the battles against Nightfury. In fact …

They only helped when she had a pony all alone, ready for the taking.

I continued reading, transfixed by the actions of the lone hero. All up to the point where he did get cornered by that very gang, all armed with weapons supplied by a mysterious figure they referred to as “Father.” Shortly thereafter, Chaete appeared on the rooftops above the group, her eyes glowing green and fangs bared in a snarl that spoke of pure fury.

All hope seemed lost …

Then Chaete descended upon her former gang with an angry hiss, sinking them into the supposed leader and dosing him full of our race’s paralytic venom. I could not help but grin as she joined forces with Nightfury to chase the rest away, nor could I stop myself from bouncing in place when she accepted his offer to join together and change the path her life had been on, naming him the leader of her new “hive” of two as she chose her namesake. A simple one.

Our race. What other name did she need to strike fear into wrongdoers than Changeling? I could only imagine what foals’ tales would be like if she were real—don’t steal from others, or the Changeling will come hunting for you.

A dragon and a changeling.

It was too perfect. I grabbed the first several issues from the shelf and presented them to my hosts, giving them a quick rundown of the first tale.

They beamed and led me over to the sales counter to finalize my purchase.

I couldn’t wait to read Spike’s response when he received my gift in the mail.

Once bits were exchanged and my gift wrapped in brown packaging, we set off for the train station and quickly boarded. All the while, I had to wonder just where we were headed. Since we were traveling Royal, there was no convenient sign telling us that we were “now boarding” for our destination. The train was simply there, waiting our arrival and my hosts’ command.

But when I asked, I received only knowing smirks and waggling ears in reply.

“You’ll see, Thorax,” Princess Cadence said as she drew me into a hug with her wing, while Flurry reached out to press a hoof into her chin. Amused, she batted her daughter’s hoof away and pulled a silly face that made the little filly giggle, then added, “Just relax. You’re going to need your rest once we arrive.”

Need my rest?

Clearly, there was something important I would be needed for. I tried to sit up straight, but my blanket of pink and purple tinged feathers held me fast. The most I could do was tilt my head against her shoulder and ask, “What will you need me to do once you’re there?”

She merely smiled. “The most important job I could ever ask of you.” My heart raced as she leaned in, nuzzled my cheek, then whispered in my ear, “You’ll just have to wait and see what it is.”

I will not deny that I pouted and turned to try my luck with Shining Armor next, but he was of no help.

He was too busy snickering as he nuzzled into the crook of her neck and shot me a knowing wink. These ponies find the strangest things amusing.

But I do love them dearly.

With little to do but follow orders, I closed my eyes and decided to try something I’d witnessed young foals do with their mothers when tired: I laid my head against Princess Cadence’s shoulder to rest. Oddly enough, I found the rickety-rackety sound fading away, blocked out by her natural warmth, the love washing over my form, and the soft caress of her coat against my cheek. As I began to drift off, I entertained an odd notion … I am not certain I should say it, for I know not how my hosts will take it.

However …

I had seen young foals lay against their mother’s shoulder, or ride and sleep upon her back when they were tired.

Changelings, though, did not ever get this chance among our own kind. Our mothers do not afford such an opportunity. Before I was lost to sleep’s embrace, I found myself wishing the opposite were true. I never realized that I had never felt so warm. I had never felt so peaceful.

I had never felt so loved.

Author's Notes:

Thank you for reading through Thorax's journal! If you like what I'm doing, please consider reading my other works and donating to my Patreon.

12. Business In the South

Dear Small Pony Book,

I’m back! I apologize if I press the tip of my pencil too roughly into your pages, but I’m just so excited! A lot has happened today! My hosts, Sunburst, even my overlady had the most wonderful surprise planned for me! This southern business was most definitely to my benefit!

Where are my manners? Allow me to pick up where I last left off—the train.

I was awoken by a familiar feeling. I felt like I was falling.

My eyes blinked open and I jerked up straight, my back arching against a soft, featherlike embrace. My chest heaved, startled at my sudden exit from a rather lovely dream—the very same Princess Luna and I had discussed the night before. Only this time … she was there. I don’t quite mean her being there as in … she spoke with me, more that I saw her, sitting with Princess Cadence while playing with Flurry Heart. At her side, of course, was Princess Celestia, in all her splendor, with a smile as warm as sunlight itself upon her face.

A wonderful dream, ruined by my fall.

An amused snort drew a flick of my earfins. I turned to find Sunburst and Shining sitting across from me, the former glancing up from a thick text on magical theory, while the latter flipped a manilla folder shut. Curiously enough, I thought I saw a new word on one of the pages. A word which began with “sch”. Germane, perhaps.

“Good morning, sleeping bug,” Shining teased softly. My face must have betrayed my confusion, as he gave a meaningful glance to my left.

I turned slowly, my heart promptly leapt into my throat when I came face to slumbering face with my other host, the ever generous and loving Princess Cadence. Her eyes were closed, her soft lips curved into a contented smile as she held her sleeping foal in her hooves, with one gorgeous pink wing curled around the babe, the purple tips of her feathers caressing Flurry like a blanket.

Only then did I notice her other wing, too, was unfurled. I followed it up the joint, around my shoulders until I felt a tickle against my side.

Princess Cadence stirred, mumbling something unintelligible as her wing tugged me closer, all but pressing me against her side. “—Back to sleep, Thorax.”

My cheeks burned hotter than dragon fire, which promptly spread to the very tips of my earfins when Shining sputtered and stuffed his hooves in his mouth to muffle his mirth. Though that did little to diminish the merry glimmer in his eyes.

To Sunburst’s credit, he didn’t tease. He simply shook his head and smiled. “We’re going to have to wake her up soon anyway,” he murmured just loud enough for us to hear. “You know she’ll be upset if she doesn’t have the chance to get ready to greet Princess Twilight.”

“I’ll wake her soon,” Shining replied, his gaze flitting to his slumbering wife as a fond smile spread across his face. I’ve long learned that Shining Armor and Princess Cadence, despite dating for years and being married for several more, were still in that tender, almost puppy love stage in some regard. The most powerful sort which tastes more delicious than any other and binds the pair forever. A notion, I confess, I find most gratifying for reasons I don’t quite understand. Stability, perhaps. He continued on, “She could use a few minutes more.”

Of that, I had little doubt. Ruling over a protectorate of Equestria on top of being a mother and dealing with, well, me, a changeling who tripped over his own hooves nearly every time he tried to interact with ponies, must have been taxing beyond anything I could comprehend. This trip—both the visit to her aunts and whatever this business must be—would hopefully allow her some small respite.

Another jostling bump of the train’s wheels made her stir once more, her wings tightened around Flurry and me as though she were fearful we might fall from her grasp. Memories of days with my brother, Pharynx, flitted through my mind, how he would chase away all the nymphs who tried to bully me, then push me around himself until it was time to sleep.

Then he’d take me back to our cocoon, right beside our mother’s pod, and we would rest together. His strong hooves would hold me tight, his body facing outward as though he sought to hide me from all the others. Upon reflection …

It was almost similar. However, I do not know if you’d have liked him, Small Pony Book. Pharynx could be very … combative. But caring in his own way, I suppose. Even if he did make me hit myself a lot.

That aside, my curiosity was piqued even more so than before. Whatever business we were on must be important if Shining wanted Princess Cadence to rest, even if only a short while longer.

There was something else though. I was unused to my hosts playing so coy with me. Ponies, after all, weren’t supposed to be coy and secretive and mischievous. That was our thing. The changeling way. Ponies were colorful, happy, loud, and showy with their feelings.

Yet the way Shining laughed upon noticing the questioning look on my face had me thinking otherwise.

These ponies could be quite mischievous in their own right. And they delighted in our classic game of knowing something others did not.

It’s quite odd to be on the other side of that, and though I seem to have made permanent residence on that side of late, I am not certain I like it much. Still, it’s better than the alternative, and they never seem to have anything but my best interests in mind.

Aside from my changeling pride, that is.

“Where are we heading?” I asked, taking care to keep my voice as low as possible, lest I disturb the slumbering princesses.

“You’ll see soon enough,” came his reply. His bright blue eyes never so much as flitted away from the mares of his life.

I frowned. My host was being quite obstinate. Were he anypony else, I might think to stick him upside down from the ceiling for a few hours to see how he felt after some thought. But, as he was deserving of my respect, I opted to simply press further. “Why can’t I know now?” I jerked my chin toward Sunburst. “He knows.”

“Because it’s a surprise,” Sunburst said, glancing up from his text again. He raised his brows. “A good one, I should add.”

A good surprise. Well, Sunburst hadn’t steered me wrong before. Though he had dragged me before my hosts upon the discovery that I’d been sick.

Another groggy mumble sounded from the mare holding me. Princess Cadence began to stir, I felt her shift and lay her head atop mine, the burn in my cheeks began to spread to my neck.

“Shiny,” she called sleepily. I couldn’t tell if she even bothered to open her eyes. “How far out are we?”

I watched helplessly trapped against her side as Shining leaned over to peek at something through the window. His ears twitched and stood erect. A grin I knew Princess Cadence so loved to call his “giddy little colt grin” spread across his features. With a deft flick of pink magic, he banished his folder back to the safety of his carry-on luggage. “Not long at all. I’d say about a twenty minutes, tops.”

The Princess of Love jolted awake, an act which promptly brought forth a most adorable yawn and owlish blinking of Flurry’s big blue eyes, and a sleepy smile. Princess Cadence, however, aimed a frown at the stallions. “Why didn’t you wake me sooner?”

Shining didn’t so much as bat an eye. “You’ve been tired,” he replied with a casual shrug. “So I thought you might like a bit of extra rest.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her purse her lips as if she wanted to argue the point. But she took a deep breath and turned her gaze down to aim a tiny smile at her daughter, then dot her with a kiss. “Thank you,” she said softly. Then, glancing at me, Princess Cadence fixed me with one of those looks that could bring the delectable sweetness of her love to the tip of my tongue without a need to draw in. “And how did you sleep, Thorax?”

Ducking my head served little purpose to hide my cheeks, in fact, it only brought my snout into contact with her coat and made things worse. “Quite well,” I mumbled. “Thank you for asking.” Pausing a beat, I added, “And for letting me lay on your shoulder.”

“You’re welcome.” Her wing left my shoulders, and suddenly everything felt cold. Princess Cadence rose from her seat and passed a giggling, squealing Flurry Heart over to her father, then leaned down to kiss him sweetly. “Hold her while I clean up my mane?”

“Of course,” Shining replied.

As she made to leave, I was caught by a sudden bout of daring, perhaps caused by the familiarity with which they so often addressed me, or maybe it was how Princess Cadence let me lay my head upon her shoulder and wrapped a wing around me while I slept. Whatever it was, it was enough.

Enough to make me forget myself long enough to reach out and lay my hoof on her delicate pink side to stop her.

Princess Cadence turned sharply, gaping at me for a moment. I felt my heart leap into my throat, visions of all those times Queen Chrysalis’s hoof caught my cheek or fangs sunk into my neck filled my head.

Then, slowly, a smile settled across her beautiful features. Almost as though she were … pleased. She was pleased that I would show such daring?

Ponies make no sense.

“Is something the matter, Thorax?” she asked.

I retracted my hoof as if a jolt of electricity had bitten me and promptly averted my eyes. “I, um … was wondering …” A nervous buzz echoed in my throat. “Shining won’t tell me where we’re going … why can’t I know?”

“Ahhhh.” Her feathers fluffed gaily. Cadence swished her tail, then turned to share a wink with the others before waggling her ears at me. “Twenty minutes, you silly, impatient bug. I’m sure you can wait.”

Wait? My mouth dropped. Changelings don’t like waiting. Sure, for pouncing or hunting and things like that, waiting was fine because it was part of the thrill, but for things like … like … nice, happy things? No! Especially when everyone else knew!

Across the compartment, Flurry Heart blew a raspberry and squealed. “Tora, wait! Tora, ‘prise! Happy Tora, yay!”

Even my overlady had turned against me. I had no choice.

With a discontented little grumble, I settled down in my seat and laid my chin upon the cushion, huffing a breath through my nose at their laughter.

Twenty minutes.

It might as well have been an eternity. Although there was something I noticed, something that nagged at the back of my mind as I saw a wooden sign pass by our window, like an old line from a story which tried so hard to leap to the tip of my tongue.

It was an old wooden sign, the black lettering faded with age, but quite easily read. One would have had to be blind or illiterate not to read the four words painted upon its face:

Ponyville? From memory, I recalled that it was some rinky-dink little town on the edge of the Everfree Forest, of minimal importance to the hive. But there was something else. Something that made me itch beneath my carapace. I’d heard it somewhere else.

Where in the First Mother’s name had it been?

I couldn’t find the answer, no matter how hard I racked my brain. I even tried guessing but to no avail. My guesses were too vague to garner anything resembling a proper answer.

Or, more aptly, my guesses enabled my hosts and Sunburst to be maddeningly vague in reply.

Was Ponyville a larger or smaller town? “Oh,” Sunburst said,” it’s sort of on the medium side, in my opinion.”

Unhelpful. Did it have any landmarks? “It’s quite known for its farming community. And happens to be one of the largest producers of apples in Equestria,” Shining replied. “Sweet Apple Acres, specifically.”

I didn’t know the name, so it held little significance to me. Perhaps something more precise. Such as whether it held any sort of historical prominence. “Definitely,” came Shining’s reply. “And many times over.”

At that, I sucked in a sharp breath. Well, if that was so, did they know anypony who lived there?

If anything, that question only served to broaden their grins and bring a swish to their tails.

“Why, yes,” Princess Cadence all but crooned, “we do.”

And then they quieted down and just … waited.

Waiting. For twenty minutes.

I confess I was ready to either climb the walls or bite the train for daring to go slower as we neared the station. Such insolence could only be meant as the most deliberate of slights, a fact which drove Shining into a coughing fit which sounded suspiciously like laughter.

I failed to see what could possibly be so amusing about the situation. Do you, Small Pony Book?

Ponies are quite odd. But I think I like them that way. It makes things interesting.

The accursed train seemed to crawl to a halt inch by screeching, creaking inch. My earfins laid flat against my scalp, a discontented murr built and voiced itself through my lips as I glared at the surrounding walls as if it might silence the silly thing. When it refused to yield, I huffed and turned my eyes to the window so I might busy myself watching the engine smoke roll over the platform with a hiss.

Then … then I saw. And I knew why my hosts had been so delighted to watch me struggle to find the answer.

I don’t remember getting out of my seat or walking over to the window. But I do recall how my knees shook and my stubby tail wagged.

There were seven ponies and three small fillies awaiting our arrival. Two unicorns, three earth ponies, and three pegasi. I’d only seen a few of the mares once before—in the midst of the chaos of the invasion of Canterlot. But there were two I recognized and knew quite well from my first meeting with my hosts. They’d been there that fateful day in the Crystal Empire. If I lived to be a thousand, I could never hope to forget them, how their smiles spread across faces of mulberry and violet, or how those soft feathers on the tallest mare, the youngest of the princesses, fluffed merrily.

Starlight Glimmer and Princess Twilight Sparkle.

Twilight beamed and waggled her ears at me, then offered a small wave which I returned dumbly, and with only minimal attention. For my focus was … somewhere else. Specifically, at a point slightly to her right and up to her shoulder if I were being generous.

I did make sure to express my apologies for my rudeness once we’d settled in. Fortunately, Twilight simply waved my worries away with an understanding smile. She knew. I suspect there wasn’t a pony present who didn’t.

The instant my eyes fell upon those deep purple scales and fins as green as changeling slime, matching slitted eyes, and that eager, yet nervous grin stretched across the tiny baby dragon’s face, my heart soared! My hooves—they betrayed me!—my hooves began to bounce and prance in place of their own volition! An urge, an insurmountable need to give into instinct filled me. Of all the violence in my former hive, there were most certainly ways to display affection. One of which was shared by friends, family, comrades, and mates alike. A sort of greeting meant for moments of utmost joy.

Such as now.

But first …

I needed their leave.

I turned to Shining Armor and Princess Cadence with a wide, fanged grin nearly splitting my face. Tears of joy welled up and stung the corners of my eyes as I struggled in vain to give voice to my want, my need.

Princess Cadence knew, though. She and Shining had been on the receiving end of my affections once before after a weekend trip to Canterlot for Dams’ Day. She nodded once, stepping aside to grant me a clear path to the door. “Go get him,” she said softly.

No sooner had the words left her mouth than I dashed out of the compartment, around the corner, and then, nearly running into the poor, startled conductor as I passed him by on my way through the open door and onto the platform. My hooves thudded and scraped against the wood as I turned myself to take a flying leap at the surprised little dragon.

He barely had the chance to yelp and get his claws up before I pounced him, sending us both into a brief tumble before I came out on top. His shoulders pinned beneath my hooves, I let out a happy chitter and leaned down to nuzzle his face, his neck, his fins, everything I could reach, making sure to brush the tips of my fangs over his scales.

An important and meaningful gesture, Small Pony Book. For a changeling to touch another in such a way with their fangs is tantamount to claiming possession. Not quite in the sense of “this thing belongs to me” but more “this is important to me and I am delighted to have it.” In a sense. It’s not an easy gesture to put into words. However, I found it served another purpose. One tangent to my instincts, but quite enjoyable in its own right.

Who am I kidding? Even if it weren’t part of our way, I’d do it solely for the second thing.

You see, ponies and baby dragons don’t have hard carapaces like we changelings. They have soft bellies and necks, which make it all the more easy to poke, prod, and nuzzle. Each of which is a rather effective method of tickling.

I have it on good authority from both my hosts and overlady that my fangs do the job in a way that none can resist.

Not even Spike.

My first friend wriggled and howled with laughter, helpless to fend off my affections. He batted at my face with his tiny claws, though I sensed great care in his movements so to avoid scratching my nose. “Th-Thorax! Cut it out! Th-That tickles!” he pleaded. “Twilight! Starlight! Somepony do something!”

They were doing something, Small Pony Book. In fact, there wasn’t a pony on the platform who wasn’t doing that same something—namely, laughing.

I drew back, beaming in satisfaction with my efforts to relay my affections. I watched his chest rise and fall as he struggled to bring his mirth under control. My thoughts came forth in a most entangled rush. I thought back to the day we’d met, how he defended me and promised to be my friend, to the letters we’d exchanged in the interim, to the lovely gift he’d sent me for Hearth’s Warming.

My earfins twitched. I all but leapt off of him and scuttled over to my hosts, skidding to a halt when I was face to grinning face with Princess Cadence just as her hooves settled on the platform.

Her horn was already wreathed in a bubbling, shimmering cerulean glow, the small brown bag from the comic book store held aloft in her magic.

She knew me well.

My thanks came out in a babbling chitter as I plucked the bag from her grasp, then, with my gift held safely in my mouth, hurried back over to Spike as he made to rise. I dropped it into his lap, my wings buzzing eagerly. “I’m sorry it’s late,” I babbled. “I didn’t know what Hearth’s Warming was or that gifts were meant to be exchanged, so happy very late Hearth’s Warming, Spike!”

Blinking, he tilted his head and slipped his claw into the open bag. I saw his eyes light up when he touched the edge of his comic books, my hooves tingled and begged to bounce and prance in place again as he retrieved them and began eagerly looking over the titles.

Then he came upon the cover of Out of the Mist Issue One and hummed, curious. “I’ve never heard of this one,” he said.

I felt the heat return to my cheeks. “It’s about a pair of heroes. Nightfury, the dragon, and Changeling, a, well …” I shrugged and gave a sheepish grin. “Changeling.”

The wide, toothy grin spread across his face told me my choices had been well-made. That he leapt up and caught me around the neck in a tight embrace, pressing his snout against my shoulder only accentuated the fact.

My eyes flitted up to meet the deep purples of Princess Twilight Sparkle, which shone with delight and no shortage of amusement.

“Well,” she said, her voice tinged with barely restrained laughter, “it’s good to see you again, Thorax.”

Again, my earfins perked up. Yes, it was good to see her again as well. Which meant there was only one thing to do. I turned to face her fully, gently nudging Spike so he knew to release me. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched him squint in confusion for a moment then jolt upright as he put it all together. Then he collapsed in a laughing heap.

I must compliment his ability to extrapolate my intent on body language alone.

Her eyes flitted down, I saw the way her wings twitched at the way my knees bent, then widened. Princess Twilight took a cautious step back, comprehension dawning across her face. Clearly, my hosts had informed her. Or she too had gleaned what Spike had. “Now, Thorax, I think you and I both know that’s not necessary.”

If she had truly listened to what they’d told her, Princess Twilight would know that it was entirely necessary. While not as close as Spike, she, too, was a friend. Which meant my gleeful chitter and pouncing as she tried to summon her magic, only for her horn to impotently fizzle magenta and pink sparks, was all the sweeter when her shoulders hit the platform.

She protested and squealed and laughed even harder than Spike. Fitting, given the difference in sizes. Then it was Starlight’s turn.

I caught her just before she reached the door. With the help of a suspiciously familiar spark of pink wrapping around her horn before she could catch me in any spells, that is. The same shade of pink which had sparked from Twilight’s.

Shining Armor’s smile was just a tad too innocent to escape either mare’s scolding. I shall have to help him learn the proper way in exchange for his assistance.

Author's Notes:

Sorry for the delay, but school made it difficult to work through the backlog and edit things. And believe me, it's a sizable backlog.

13. Comic Reunions

Dear Small Pony Book,

I am writing to you today in my third castle in less than a week. This time, we are staying in Ponyville—specifically, in Princess Twilight Sparkle’s splendorous crystal castle situated just on the outskirts of town. Friendship Castle, as they call it.

Quite fitting, I should think. Though I did have some question regarding the strange design.

It wasn’t my place to give voice to such a question, so I reserved it for you alone, Small Pony Book. I trust you’ll follow the course of silence.

What in the first Mother’s name would possess ponies to fashion a castle made entirely of crystal into the shape of a tree, of all things? It hardly seemed fitting for royalty, ascended or not. Furthermore, how would one even defend it? It hardly seemed strategic. While I wasn’t one with much of a talent for architecture, there was something to be said about the similarities between the hive and pony castles, like Canterlot Castle. Those buildings were meant to be great labyrinths to outsiders, while those within knew all the routes, and riddled with narrow passageways so the invaders were forced to approach important areas or ambush zone in single file line.

Morbid though it may sound, it was a cunning strategy. Get your enemies to come at you one at a time, then just pick them off at leisure. Defense strategy basics.

Actually, that brought me to another question: where in Equestria were her guards? Surely, Princesses Celestia and Luna wouldn’t allow her to go unprotected! She was the former’s, ah, former student, after all. And, really, I doubted Cadence and Shining would stand for that either.

Again, it wasn’t my place. I had more pressing matters to attend to anyway. Namely, I had time to be spent with my best friend, and I fully intended to savor every second of it. We began with a quick tour of Friendship Castle.

“This place is a lot bigger than it looks!” Spike assured me as he guided me out of the guest room they’d prepared for me. Mine was directly across from Sunburst’s, and two doors down from my hosts’. A bright smile spread across the little dragon’s chubby cheeks. “The girls and I still get lost sometimes. Starlight, especially, because a lot of the doors look so alike. And there’s just so many rooms, y’know?”

I bobbed my head in agreement. That, I could sympathize with him quite readily. Pony dwellings were notoriously confusion, quite unlike a changeling hive. So many doors, all of them the same size, shape, and color, none of them ever changing or altering, even the hallways were maddeningly static. Ever-changing or not, we changelings possessed a deep connection to our home. Getting lost was never an issue, even for our youngest hatchlings. Why would it be? As I told you before, Small Pony Book, the hive is very much alive.

Still, I kept it to myself. Confusing or not, my friends’ home was quite lovely. And homey, despite its size.

The ceilings were tall and came together in a pointed oval-like shape which glittered in the midday sun, which shone through twinkling windows. Purple carpets lined the floors, soft and warm beneath my chitinous hooves. Something I would have much appreciated during the recent winter. It might have spared me the Winter Spirits’ terrible breath upon my neck, and thus my sickness.

I maintain that they are terrible and that I hope the First Mother sank her fangs into them.

He showed me everything. The kitchen, Twilight’s cozy little room and seemingly gigantic study packed to the brim with bookshelves and texts thick enough to brain a pony. Starlight’s room was just down the hall and, rather oddly enough, was home to several kites of varying size, color, and shape. Then, of course, there was the library.

I had to chitter to myself for ever thinking the study could be considered such a vast forest of books. This library … Now, this was a place a changeling could truly lose themselves.

Whether in the maze of bookshelves, each of them tall and made of solid crystal and filled with more of those texts thick enough to be called a weapon, their spines a literal rainbow of colors, or in one of the many, many books themselves, I wasn’t entirely certain. Ponies could say what they wished about my hive and race, but one thing none could ever claim was that we didn’t love a good story.

Why shouldn’t we? The written word was the greatest form of love, after all! Why else would one share such lovely visions with those who didn’t possess similar imagination or devotion to the craft?

Things I’m willing to bet most take for granted—no doubt because they can’t taste the lingering love in every word.

“Impressive,” I praised with a small smile. I turned over my shoulder to glance at my young friend, who had taken up residence on my back. “I don’t think I’ve ever been in a library so big.”

Spike beamed, his slitted emerald eyes shone with pride. “Other than the Royal Archives and Royal Canterlot University, Twilight and I have put together the biggest library in all of Central Equestria. Not bad, considering the old library was lacking so much, even before it was burned down.”

He winced a bit as he finished, a result of bad memories, no doubt. On that, I could most certainly sympathize with him. Though nymphhood was not a particularly happy time in my life, I did have a few fond memories here and there. Most involved Libulella or Pharynx.

But this was hardly the time for dwelling.

My smile broadening, I waggled my earfins. “Well,” I said, “I think you’ve both done a wonderful job. The library and castle itself are quite lovely. It reminds me a lot of home.”

Spike perked right up. “Oh, yeah! I bet it does, since they’re both crystal and all.” He paused a moment in thought before his earfins twitched and eyes went wide. “I almost forgot!” My friend fixed me with a hopeful smile, like Flurry Heart begging for sweets. “Do you wanna see my room?”

I confess that it was no small effort on my part not to buzz my wings giddily. “Sure! I’d be happy to see it!”

With a bright grin, Spike hopped down from his perch with a clickety-clack of his claws against the crystalline floor. Carefully, I noticed, so he didn’t drop the comics I’d gifted him. “All right, then! Follow me!”

Again, we headed down the long crystal hallways, back toward Starlight and Twilight’s rooms.

There was some level of confusion, I’ll admit, as to why this didn’t take place when he’d shown off this wing of the castle. It would’ve been far more convenient. Unless, I thought as we drew near to a tall wooden door with a purple and green placard bearing Spike’s name, this was a part of some grand reveal. In which case, it was only good manners that I await it patiently.

We changelings do have a bit of a love for such theatrics, Small Pony Book, but don’t worry. I know you’re young and shy. I’ve done my best to tone it down around you.

I digress.

Spike twisted the knob and pushed the door open, then gestured for me to enter first. I did so with a grateful nod in his direction, my teal eyes wide and ready to take in every detail of my friend’s lodgings.

By comparison to Twilight’s room, there were many similarities I noticed. First and foremost, his room was … well, as I said with Twilight’s, it was quite cozy—not so small that one might get claustrophobic, yet also not so big that it ever felt like one was alone.

The walls were a deep purple crystal, a tall window with purple and green drapes drawn stood on the opposite side of the room. On the side to my left was his bed, fitted with matching covers and pillows. There was a small wooden desk with one of those little half-circle chairs with the cushions—the ones that look almost like a bird’s nest—to my right, and next to that, a pair of wooden bookshelves of medium height. One of those bookshelves was filled with normal books, novels of some sort, I imagined, if the titles displayed on the colorful spines were any indication. The other held what could only be his comic collection.

Spike padded over to his desk and laid his comics at the very center. Upon closer inspection, I noticed that everything had been placed in pristine order—from the cup of pens, to the trio of pencils resting on the right beside a notebook, and, now, the stack of comics.

“So,” he said, “what do you think?”

I spared another look around the room, a fond smile playing upon my lips. “I think it’s great.” Trotting over to take a closer look, I caught sight of a door off to the side which I hadn’t noticed before.

There, left wide open for all to see, was a rather sizable closet, big enough that I could have stepped inside and looked around if I wished. I could see three shelves of models extending beyond the bannister, the corner of a cardboard box labeled “comics,” and a cushion resting upon the floor. A little reading cushion for when he didn’t feel like sitting at his desk, I surmised.

He must have noticed my eyes lingering on the closet, for he spoke up. “Oh, that’s where I keep some of my extra books and models and stuff. Just so they’re not scattered everywhere.”

I nodded. Sensible reasoning, indeed. Curious, I made to take a look inside, though not without a quick glance toward Spike so I might get his consent. He gave it with a casual wave, following me over.

As I entered, I noted that each of his models had a specific place on the shelves lining the walls—three on each, extending to the end, then almost wrapping around. Before each model, there was a small white card with a name written in neat script. Script a bit too neat to be Spike’s. I peered at the first card and let my eyes trace over the words Canterlot Castle. Down the line they went, throughout history and even fantasy. The Fortress of Pegasopolis, The Castle of the Pony Sisters, and Smokey Mountain Citadel, the fabled stronghold of the ancient dragons. Fitting that he would choose to build the last one.

His comics and books, however, didn’t have such an arrangement. A fact which made me tilt my head and furrow my brows. Naturally, I just had to ask, “Why aren’t those on shelves?” I waved a hoof at the at the boxes. “Or is there some sort of display rotation you’ve worked out?”

Spike laughed and shook his head. “No, nothing like that. Quills and Sofas just had two when Twilight took me looking for some back when we were setting up my room. I’ve got two more on backorder.”

I had to assume “backorder” was meant to imply some sort of delay in production. For a second or two, I considered the notion of biting whomever had so woefully failed to execute this task.

But then, I recalled my lesson with Cadence.

If she heard tell of me entertaining such thoughts, she’d be most disappointed. Perhaps even a tad displeased.

Displeasing my hosts was the last thing I wished to do. They had far more important things to worry about.

“Well,” I said slowly, “I hope your new one arrives soon so you can have your full collection on display. I imagine it’s quite nice.”

He aimed a grin in my direction. “Yeah. It will be.” Spike stole a glance over his shoulder, back toward his desk, thinking for a moment. “Y’know, I’m kinda curious about that series you got me …”

My earfins twitched again. “Oh?”

Spike raised his brows.”And Twilight and I can fit pretty comfortably on that cushion.”

I’ll never be confused for a genius, Small Pony Book, but I’m not so dense that I’d miss such an obvious hint.

I lit my horn and dragged the cushion out of my friend’s closet while he moved to collect his comics. We slid onto the cushion, Spike taking position in front of me so I could peer over his shoulder as we began to read the first issue together.

The length of time we spent reading together didn’t hit us until Twilight came to summon us for dinner.

14. That Tingle Down My Carapace

Dear Small Pony Book,

I found myself in a most perplexing position today. One, admittedly, I hadn’t expected outside of a few instances in which my hosts had to come track me down after I made some sort of mistake and scuttled off to one of my normal hiding places.

Forgive me, I’ve gotten a bit ahead of myself. Today was odd, so I’m a little scatterbrained—a funny word, that, wouldn’t you agree? Let’s backtrack to last night. I never did finish recounting my initial reunion with Spike and subsequent dinner. It was quite an evening.

Twilight led us through those winding crystal hallways, with Spike once again claiming my back as his perch, to the dining room. She made sure to take the time to let me get my bearings and offer a few directions here and there. Directions I quite appreciated, as I had still not quite committed Spike’s to memory just yet. Things like “here is the bathroom, here is where I store chemistry supplies, do not go in there and open anything up” were most prudent, as you might guess.

At least, I assume so. I don’t think you need either of those things. Definitely not bathing.

Anyway.

When we arrived in the dining room—which was maybe about a third the size of the one in the Crystal Palace—we were greeted by the same smiling faces which met us on the platform. My hosts were seated together, on the right side of the head seat position, with Flurry Heart in her high chair between them. No doubt the arrangement had been made both so they could enjoy a conversation with her, while remaining attentive to my overlady. My overlady seemed quite pleased with the seating arrangements, as it allowed her the chance to squeal and babble and point out new sights to her parents.

Of course, they were happy to tell her just what it was and help her sound it out. Shining, rather mischievously, kept trying to get her to stumble through “chandelier” until Princess Cadence shot him one of her bemused smiles.

“What?” he asked with all the faux innocence of a nymph. “I’m just trying to help!”

The Princess of Love raised her brows. “A likely story, I’m sure,” she drawled. “And Auntie Celestia only enjoys her jokes a little bit.”

Even I had to bite my lip at that remark. Spike and Twilight, on the other hoof, had no such inclination to keep quiet, and snickered. I took it upon myself to see what everyone else was doing rather than comment.

Predictably, I noticed that Starlight was seated across from my hosts so she would be on Twilight’s left side when she joined the group. To the mare’s left, Sunburst sat, his cape removed and hung on a coat rack off in the corner, and seemed to be excitedly babbling about various things he’d been researching since their last meeting. From the way his eyes were lit and his hooves moved about in near comical fashion with each word he spoke, I could only guess it was about those times he disappeared into the library for hours on end to read over ancient Crystal Empire magical texts. And the way hers were focused and ears perked, hanging on his every word, I must confess, I’m quite confident we might see her visiting sooner rather than later.

After Sunburst, there were Twilight’s friends, each chattering away with one another or my hosts at random. Pinkie Pie had managed to sequester herself a spot beside Shining so she could entertain my overlady with silly faces—I make no promises that my first thought wasn’t a smug note that my silly faces were far superior and garnered more laughter from little Flurry—while Fluttershy simply laughed and shook her head. Opposite of her, Applejack and Rainbow Dash were bantering with Rarity about something I confess I had such little interest in that I couldn’t recount, an argument the pair seemed to be losing despite their numbers, if that coy smile on the unicorn’s beautiful face was any indication.

The fillies … well …

Even in that instant, that very moment we stepped into the dining room and their bright, eager eyes affixed upon us, I knew they were up to something. Though I only knew them by name and reputation from Spike’s depictions of them in his letters, I was quite well-versed in the “wheels turning in their heads” look from dealing with the machinations of nymphs. And, well, my overlady.

I also realized that their eyes were trained upon me rather than us.

The mouthful of slime I was forced to swallow was not a product of any allergies I’d developed, though I would so love to pretend otherwise. Just the memory of those looks and the gleam in those eyes was enough to force me to swallow more just now, lest I make your pages sticky and gooey.

The way Sweetie Belle smirked and leaned in to whisper some little additive to her grinning cohorts still brings a shiver down my spine—and we’re currently safe in my lodgings!

“Boys, why don’t you sit over here,” Twilight said nodding to a pair of seats between Rainbow Dash and Sunburst which I hadn’t noticed before. A welcome position near my hosts and friends, despite how loud Rainbow could be.

And very well was when she heard Twilight’s voice and noticed where she pointed.

Her sky blue ears flicking, she turned a cocky grin at us and waved us over. “C’mon over, dudes!” she called. “Plenty of room down here at the cool section! Just watch out for AJ, we have to excuse her being raised in a barn and all!”

I feel the need to note the round of eye-rolls and muttered quip from Applejack her comment earned. One which just made the ever-mouthy pegasus fluff her feathers and give a merry waggle of her ears in defiance. A tried and true routine between them, if I were to hazard a guess.

By Spike’s renewed mirth, I felt quite confident that my hunch was correct.

As requested, I trotted over to take my place, my mind already made up that I would take the seat to Sunburst’s immediate left. Not out of any distaste for Rainbow’s antics, mind, but I did know him better. Fortunately, Spike seemed to read my mind, and hopped down onto the seat nearest Rainbow as we approached. I slipped into the other, and scooted myself in, careful not to jostle anyone’s shoulders.

A rather sizable spread awaited us, already dished up. I was quite pleased to find that, once again, I had been gifted a plate of fish. Trout, if I were to guess by the scent—and, oh, did the scent make my mouth water and fangs itch to lengthen and sink into the tender meat. My instincts practically demanded that I tear into it, but I fought them off. Instead, I looked up at Twilight and tilted my head in silent askance.

“We sent word in advance,” Princess Cadence supplied.

“And I felt it might be more prudent that everypony hold onto their energy during the visit,” Twilight added. Then, thinking on it a minute longer, she raised a hoof and said, “No offense, I mean.”

I shook my head. “I understand.”

She had every right. I mean, let us be frank, feeding me would probably leave any of the ponies present laid up in bed for several hours in need of quite a bit of rest and nutrition to recover. Any aside from my hosts or overlady, I should say, but they are the anomaly.

And I could hardly blame them all for wanting to be full of all their happy pony pep and energy to spend time with one another. I certainly did with Spike.

Still, that begged the question. “Where did you get the fish?”

To my surprise, the answer didn’t come from Twilight. “That was my idea,” Fluttershy said from across the table. As my eyes fell upon her, the mare ducked her head as if to hide herself. I saw her wings shift and feathers rustle nervously, a sign of her want to hide. But then, almost as soon as it came, it was gone. “I’ve cared for some of my bear friends and wild cats when they were sick, and they love fish,” she continued, “so it wasn’t too difficult to take make an extra cast or two with the nets. I do hope you like it.”

I looked down at the fish and gave it a sniff. It smelled delicious. Fresh, as if she’d just caught it today. I ran my tongue along either edge of my snout and said, “Thank you, Miss Fluttershy. I think I will.” Before she could reply, I confess I attacked the helpless fish with the same vigor I did the cookies Princess Luna had shared with me. The taste, the smell, even the texture were just perfect.

When I finished, all eyes were upon me. Some betraying stunned looks, others mild amusement, but one pair expectant and more than a bit nervous.

Is it wrong that I found Fluttershy’s eyes beautiful in that moment? I’m not sure if I should blame it on the fish or that those baby blues could probably make even my brother stop a moment to appreciate it. He might even be so stunned he might ask to feed.

“It was wonderful,” I said with a bright, toothy grin. I licked my lips and fangs clean. “Thank you, Mis Fluttershy.”

The way her feathers fluffed and sweet, delectable happiness rolled off her in waves was only matched by the bashful smile that spread across her features. “You’re—you’re welcome. And it’s just Fluttershy.” Her cheeks colored a rosy red. “I’m not really all that important to get a ‘Miss’ anything.”

A contrary word leapt to mind, but I caught a quick look from Spike which made me bite my tongue. I would leave it. For now, at least.

“So, Thorax,” Rainbow began, reaching over my little friend’s head to poke my shoulder and give me a friendly shove. “What’s it like living up in the Crystal Empire? Better than wandering around in the snow, I bet!”

Unbidden, a shiver ran down my spine. Yes, I remembered those days wandering, lured by the scent of tasty, tasty love, and how my carapace had gone so brittle it would’ve cracked had I not sought shelter in that cave. Or if the guards had gotten a shot at me with their spears.

Actually, most of them have apologized for that.

“It’s … much more preferable,” I replied slowly. “Changeling carapace isn’t good with the cold. I got rather sick because of it during Hearth’s Warming.”

“We did hear about that,” Rarity cut in from just down the line. Her lips were curved into a frown. “Poor Spike was fretting for days when he learned. Had I known, I would’ve offered to try to fashion some winter wear for you, but I’ve never exactly fitted …” she trailed off, rolling a hoof through the air in search of the right word.

“One of my kind?” I offered.

“I was trying to be delicate, but yes. I didn’t want to guess and leave you with something too big or small.” A gleam flashed through her eyes. “Although, now that you’re here …”

I tilted my head. “What about me being here?”

Applejack groaned and pulled the brim of her hat over her head. “Oh, Celestia, here she goes.”

“Save yourself, dude,” Rainbow chipped in, her grin sharpening. “Run fast, run far, and shapeshift. I can only promise a three second head start before she catches you and drags you off to that torture chamber she calls a—” she ducked a sharp snapping napkin, turned and pointed at Rarity. “HA! Missed!”

Frowning, Rarity glared daggers at the pair. “I’m trying to be helpful, you two! Do you want the poor thing to catch his death of cold?”

A most unpleasant prospect. One which cowed and made both mares wince.

“Fair ‘nuff,” Applejack muttered. “Sorry ‘bout that. Was just funnin’ with the lil’ guy.”

I chose the course of silence while Rainbow quailed beneath a heated side-eye look and stammered out a quick apology. A well-timed sip of my drink gave me enough of a chance to wheedle my way out of that conversation, and find myself nose to nose—quite literally—with Pinkie Pie.

It is with pride that I note that I didn’t jump or yelp. Though I did flinch back and blink, perplexed at the eager light shining in her eyes.

“Um, hi?” I asked more than greeted, my eyes flitting to my hosts. They simply beamed back, a not-so-subtle hint of amusement shone in Princess Cadence’s smile, though. I had only seconds before I realized why.

Pinkie Pie didn’t so much speak as she did launch an all-out verbal assault. Her mouth worked faster than I’d ever seen, her voice hit me in a rush and jumbled of words so fast they sounded more like one than anything else. More to the point, she didn’t even take a breath during it all! And didn’t seem to need one even after she finished and fixed me with an expectant grin, her ears perked and eyes so wide I wondered for an instant if she were one of my kin from another hive.

She was also vibrating. I didn’t know ponies could do that, and I’m not entirely sure they’re supposed to. I shall have to consult my hosts.

In that moment, though, I blinked twice and tilted my head. “Huh?” I replied dumbly.

The mare deflated a bit, but perked back up. “I saaaaaid,” she drawled most deliberately. “I’m trying to plan out your Welcome to Ponyville surprise party, but I need to know what sort of cakes and treats you like because I’ve never prepared a party for a changeling before. Well, not a friendly changeling, anyway. A changefriend?” She furrowed her brows. “Friendling?”

“Changefriend sounds nice,” Princess Cadence teased.

“I think friendling rolls off the tongue a bit better,” Shining said with a coy smirk.

Twilight Sparkle rolled her eyes, as if sharing my plight. “You two are terrible. Don’t tease him so much!”

“Pot, kettle,” Spike retorted. “You’re black.”

As the banter went on around us, Pinkie’s focus remained entirely upon me. As if she were hoping that a prolonged stare, her eyes wider and vibrating returning with each passing second, would make the information she sought fly from my head straight into hers.

I was ill-prepared for such interrogative tactics. Ours involved threatening hisses in the ear, glares, licking lips and fangs, and no shortage of charm magic. A smile, though. Only wicked ones. Not the sunny, eager one before me, which filled me with both that light, fluffy happy feeling and the slightest trickle of wondering dread.

My resolve broke as I was lost in her eyes. “Anything sweet,” I said quickly. “Princess Luna gave cookies, snickerdoodles, I think, and I found they tasted of love and cinnamon. I have only had cake once or twice before, so I don’t really have a preference aside from there being sweet icing.” I wrinkled my nose, thinking over her last question. “I … don’t think there is a term like that?”

“Well, there is now!” Shining chimed, earning himself an elbow to his ribs courtesy of his little sister.

Clearly, Twilight Sparkle was my only ally in this. Even Spike sat and stuffed his claws into his mouth in vain to hide a bout of snickering.

I made note to repay him later. Laugh at me in my moment of need, would he? He would find himself laughing until tears flowed down his chubby little cheeks once I finished with him after dinner had finished. In the interim, I glanced between Shining and Cadence, and found no aid forthcoming.

When my eyes fell upon Pinkie again, she leaned closer still. Her nose pressed so firmly against my own that I was forced to wrinkle my snout.

Before I could think properly, I blurted, “Friendling is fine!”

With a cheer, the mare caught me in a tight hug and lifted me out of my seat—such strength I never imagined she possessed—and resumed her rapid-fire babbling about all her plans for my surprise party.

I trust you have noticed the same issue with the “surprise” aspect I did. “How is it a surprise party if you’re telling me everything about it?” I wondered aloud.

“Oh, don’t you worry your silly, little head,” she crooned, gently petting my headfin. “Auntie Pinkie Pie has a way of making things work out.”

“I … we …” I drew back and gaped at her. “But we’re not related?”

My dinner companions burst into raucous laughter. Even little Flurry tittered and waved her hooves, though I suspect that was more her want to be included in the fun than her actually understanding the joke. Wise though my overlady may be for her years, she isn’t quite there yet.

Soon, though.

Pinkie took my comment in stride, giving my headfin another pet and even kissed my forehead like she would a little foal!

I make no promises that I didn’t siphon a trickle of love in that instant. It was too sweet not to. Like cotton candy and pudding.

“Silly, friendling!” she teased. “You don’t have to be related to me to be close. But you’ll get used to it!” Without another word, she plopped herself down in her seat again, and began devouring her dandelion and daisy salad with vigor near my own. An impressive feat.

I sat in silent contemplation while the rest began their own meals. Mostly contemplating the strangeness that was Pinkie Pie, admittedly, though there were a couple of things on my mind. Namely, what Rarity could have possibly meant. Surely she wasn’t thinking of fashioning something for me, right?

Why should she? I’m a changeling. And I don’t think we know each other well enough to be called anything more than passing acquaintances at best. At worst? I suppose one could say I’m the oddball she tolerates because we have companionship with Spike in common. Not that either is bad, mind, but …

I didn’t understand it. Changelings didn’t go out of their way for anyone. Why should some pony who barely knew me?

Then again, why should a Prince-Captain and Princess who suffered at my hive’s hoof allow me to live under their roof and play foalsitter to their filly?

These thoughts plagued me all the way through the meal, questions I batted about like a cat playing with yarn, with no real end in sight.

None until I felt a prod upon my shoulder, the tiny claw made a little click as it touched my carapace. I turned and looked down, offering a little smile to my friend. “Yes?” I asked.

Spike regarded me with a look one part bemusement, two parts concerned. “I was trying to ask what you wanted to do tomorrow,” he said. “But I think you had your head in the clouds.”

I blinked, furrowing my brows a moment. I knew that idiom from somewhere—oh, I’d heard a few pegasi say it around the palace. With a sheepish grin, I noted, “We would say that I have my head in the slime back home, but I suppose I did. My apologies.”

“’S fine. So?” He rolled his claws through the air. “What do you wanna do?”

This time, it was my turn to fix him with a look. “I don’t live here, Spike. Other than sit and read comics, I don’t exactly know what there is to do around Ponyville.”

I will admit I did take a little joy in seeing his cheeks flush, Small Pony Book. My quip had worked quite well. “Oh, right.” Spike tapped his claws against the table, his eyes darting about in thought. “Uh. Well, there’s the comics. And sweets at Sugarcube Corner, but given that you’re going to have a party, we could probably stand to skip that.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Pinkie make to object, before a look from Twilight made her sit slowly.

My little friend, however, did not. His focus was on the task at hoof. Er, claw, rather. Which he was currently drumming in a cadence only he knew. “Uh, normally, I’d probably go help Rarity in the boutique.” The little dragon cast a glance toward the mare, fixing her with what I could only imagine to be his best pleading look.

A look which earned a bell-like laugh and shake of her head which sent her magnificent curls bobbing. “Darling, as much as I love having your help, I think you should spend time doing things you and Thorax might actually enjoy together.” Her smile radiated affection. She gave a little bob of her head toward the far end of the table, where those scheming fillies were sitting, still murmuring and shooting glances our way. “Why don’t you two and the girls play or something tomorrow, hmm?”

Their smiles became far too sweet to be true. Every instinct in my body told me to run and find a nice, dark place to hide—and I’m supposed to be the scary predator!

I swallowed a mouthful of slime. The first of many times I’d do so since meeting the … ah … precocious little things. “Um,” I began, “I wouldn’t want to just … insert myself into friends doing their own thing.”

Little Sweetie Belle’s smile was sweeter than honey straight from a beehive. “Oh, we’d be happy to show you around and play!” she said, waving my concerns aside.

“We’ve got plenty of friends who’d get a kick out of meeting a real live changeling,” Scootaloo added.

“A regular hoot ’n a holler,” Apple Bloom said with a solemn nod. “’N we were gonna do a group game tomorrow anyhow. Addin’ y’all ain’t no real cause for fuss.”

Spike and I exchanged looks, my own unsure. Something about those smiles was just a bit off-putting. They’d been hatching some sort of plan the moment I walked in, for what purpose, I didn’t quite know.

But if he approved, I would follow his lead.

He stole another glance back at them, then returned his gaze to me and shrugged. “I guess it couldn’t hurt,” he said. “They are pretty fun.”

I smiled shakily, giving a noncommittal noise of agreement.

Their widening grins did little to aleviate my worry. I should have paid more attention to my instincts and slime glands. Little did I realize that my friend had just set me up to spend a full day at the mercy of foals.

This is where I must stop, as my overlady has summoned me for peek-a-boo, so we will have to pick this up later. I apologize for this “cliffhanger,” Small Pony Book. I assure you, the tale does go … some rather interesting places.

Unfortunately, you will have to wait until Flurry Heart has deemed my performance satisfactory. Until then.

15. The Machinations of Fillies

Dear Small Pony Book,

I unfortunately cannot make any sincere attempt to apologize for my delay this time. You see, my overlady was so pleased with my unmatched Peek-a-Boo performance that she insisted upon a round of cuddling and snuggling as my reward, and even offered to feed me. Or, at least, I interpreted it as such, and Shining Armor confirmed.

My overlady’s love is just as delicious as the rest of her family. Perhaps not as deep and aged as Princesses Celestia or Luna—who could boast such a thing, I wonder?—but no less nutritious for a changeling such as myself. What’s more, she, like her mother and great aunt, shows utterly no sign of tiring after a feeding!

A fact which made Princess Twilight’s eyes gleam with interest.

Speaking of Princess Twilight, today’s events … well, they began with a rather interesting request from her after breakfast, and I did leave you hanging on the edge of a cliff when last I wrote. A “cliffhanger,” as Princess Cadence saw fit to remind me just a second ago—thank you, Princess.

Waking and preparing for the day was carried out as per usual, with me spending a few moments to bathe in the comfort of my room, licking my carapace clean, and hurrying down the hallway to make ready to greet my hosts and overlady. I very nearly bumped into Sunburst, again, per our routine, and sent him jumping left so that he ended up brushing snouts with Starlight.

That last bit was most certainly not part of our routine, but I did have to let out a low purr at the delectable scent of embarrassment and affection as their cheeks filled rosy pink. Unfortunately, there was little time to stop and check the taste to confirm which flavor of it they shared, for I had an overlady to observe.

Once there, I retrieved Flurry Heart from her crib to a chorus of happy squeals and excited babbling and wiggling hooves. Her wings unfurled and feathers fluffed, her tail wagged as I’ve only seen in eager puppies, as she told me of her desire to see her parents. Naturally, I, a humble changeling and subject, was happy to accommodate her wishes, and placed her upon my back for a changeling ride to her slumbering parents’ bed, so she might awaken them with a squeal and short glide to land atop the snuggling couple.

It is here that I note a grave error that would come back to bite me—you see, I was unaware that my hosts chose to stay up late to talk with Princess Twilight. I certainly knew they went to bed quite a bit after I had because they were all catching up, but not so much that her jubilant cries didn’t at least rouse them from sleep enough to expect her oncoming assault of affection. That was, after all, how things were done daily. The routine never failed without some hint given the night before, usually involving Sunburst and I (or just me) watching over Flurry Heart while they enjoyed a quiet evening.

Thus, I’m sure you can imagine my surprise when my hosts’ awakening was not with tired smiles and amusement as they caught Flurry in a hug and tickled her for her insolence, but groans and splayed ears, along with Princess Cadence muttering into her pillow what could only be a word that young ears shouldn’t hear, along with something about too much bourbon.

Then Shining’s blue eyes found me and fixed me with a look that wasn’t quite angry, but glinted with a hint of wicked intent. Like one of my kin, amused that I’d done something foolish, but not so much that I wouldn’t find myself … well, let’s just say Pharynx wore that look often and it typically ended with me running through the caves from the tatzelwurms.*

Breakfast afterward was just a tad awkward, more so because I found myself met with that look from Shining each time I broke off my conversation with Spike. Worse, Princess Cadence—sweet, loving, almost motherly saintly Princess Cadence!—wore it too!

I swallowed a mouthful of slime. My hosts surely didn’t mean me any harm.

They did not, of course, but more on later. There are a few other things to discuss.

Namely, the, ah, reason those fillies’ looks made me shudder so. Well, they arrived after breakfast, just as they promised. Right after my hosts chose to take Flurry to the lake for a little playtime in the water. But they weren’t alone.

I found myself staring, blinking at a small crowd of gaping foals, each letting their tiny mouths hang open and looking at me through big, colorful eyes as wide as dinner plates. Their little ears were perked, as if itching to hear what I might say, or which sounds might come from my my inequine lips.

I will admit the slightest bit of pettiness played into my efforts to resist a nervous chitter, Small Pony Book. The rest was pure nerves. Between the staring and those smiles still worn by the fillies, one I noticed shared upon my dear friend, Spike, as well, I was quite certain today would be … an event.

“Say there, Twilight,” Apple Bloom greeted in her southern lit. “D’ya mind if Spike ’n Thorax come out ’n play?”

My eyes tracked down the table to the Princess of Friendship, who had just looked up from a few folders and books. Several of which seemed to involve some sort of educational rulings, but one folder caught my eye—the very one Princess Cadence and Shining had been so interested.

For an instant, our eyes met, and Princess Twilight casually laid her hoof atop the folder, then turned a smile at the fillies. “I suppose so,” she replied with a hint of mock severity. “If you three promise not to bring them home covered in tree sap and twigs.”

Don’t worry, Small Pony Book, you’re not the only one confused by that wording. I learned though. As you will.

The fillies and Spike giggled—well, he actually laughed a little nervously.

“Don’t worry about it!” Scootaloo replied with an airy wave of her wing. “We don’t have anything too crazy planned!”

“Just a couple games,” Sweetie added. The way her emerald eyes sparkled made my mouth fill with slime again, quickly swallowed down. She worried me the most. With those eyes, that smile, and the sweetness of her words, there was little doubt she could wrap any unsuspecting pony around her hoof. And if what Princess Cadence tells me of her sister, she has the perfect role model for such things. As I thought this, she pointed over her shoulder at the crowd and said, “And our friends were curious about what it was like having a changeling friend, so when we told them how nice he was, they were just excited to meet him!”

I could not help my earfins twitching. Foals interested in meeting me? Well, that was certainly novel!

Princess Twilight pretended to think a moment, her smile betraying her intent. “Well, I suppose I could part with my number one assistant and his favorite changeling friend for a few hours.” Before the group could cheer, her eyes flitted to me. For a half-second, I could’ve sworn I saw a flicker of doubt. “Thorax? Could I borrow you for just a second?”

Curious, I tilted my head. “Of course.” I turned to Spike and the foals, and said, “I’ll be right out, if you don’t mind waiting.”

They didn’t, of course. Really, who could fault a fellow subject for answering a royal’s call?

As they hurried outside, laughing and chattering away, I trotted over to stand by Princess Twilight’s side. My curious eyes scanned over the folder underneath her hoof. Once again, the word was obscured, this time only the letters “ool” were visible.

It took only a small effort to put two and two together. School? Were my hosts asking Princess Twilight for aide with some policy regarding Crystal Empire schools? Quite insightful of them. To her, however, I bowed and said, “Yes, Princess?”

“I’m about to ask a favor of you,” she said softly, her mulberry feathers ruffling. “If it’s not too much trouble.”

“It is most certainly not. I’m always at the service of the Royal Family.”

There was another flicker of something across her face. Displeasure? “In that case, thank you. It’s a simple request, really.” Her wings rustled, I saw her gaze flit to the door. “Keep an eye on them. And Spike.”

I blinked twice. “Are they unpleasant?”

“No, but they do have a rather impressive talent for falling into trouble. And with Spike, it doubles.”

That, more than anything, made me jolt upright. Trouble? Spike?

I set my jaw. There could, and would, be no trouble of any form for my first friend while I was around. Even changeling tricks would be put on hold—actually, it had been quite some time since I pulled one. By the First Mother, not since the invasion!

Something to fix later. When Spike wasn’t in danger of trouble. Or was it in trouble of danger?

Either way, unacceptable.

“Don’t worry, Princess Twilight,” I said with a solemn bow. “You can count on me.”

She dismissed me with a nod of thanks, granting me leave to hurry outside to meet my friend and young compatriots. When I found them, they were all huddled around Spike and the fillies, speaking in hushed tones with tails swishing and feathers fluffing. The bright smiles on each little face told the tale of a plan most delicious.

A plan in which I was the centerpiece, it seemed.

Spike was the first to notice my arrival. He nudged the fillies to bring the conversation to a halt, then turned a smile upon me. “So, Thorax,” he began with all the feigned innocence of a nymph. “The girls and I have been talking, and we were a little curious about how you might do with a certain game.”

“Oh?” My earfins twitched. What can I say? My curiosity was piqued. “What game might that be?”

Again, those smiles grew into grins. I wondered for a moment if it was too late to scuttle off to join my hosts at the lake.

It was far too late, in case you were wondering, Small Pony Book. My dear friend has his claws around my elbow before I could think to make a move, and tugged me to walk down the old dirt path with a crowd of excited, chattering foals all around me.

Is it any surprise that I had to swallow yet another mouthful of slime?

My time with the fillies and Spike taught me one thing rather quickly, Small Pony Book. Namely, that there are a great many who truly do not understand the differences between ponies and changelings. Including my dear first friend.

It’s not entirely their fault, really. We changelings are an incredibly secretive bunch. A requirement, when one considers that our entire existence has involved being feared for our appearances, hated for our actions (trickery, thievery, kidnapping, charming, and otherwise), and destitute and starving for rather sizable stretches. So, I would like to impress upon you that the foals and Spike were not at all to blame for failing to realize that I was, in fact, not a “blank flank.”

The thought was all that kept me from letting out a furious hiss as cake batter and sweet strawberry frost dribbled down my cheeks. I ran a hoof across my brow and flicked it, sending a spatter of the sticky, sweet substance across the kitchen floor of Sugarcube Corner, then lashed my tongue along my snout to clean it.

Tasty, indeed. Almost the same flavor of Princess Cadence’s love, but it quite paled in comparison.

“I believe,” I said slowly, somehow managing to keep my irritation out of my tone, “that my previous point stands. I will not be earning any cutie mark, and I do not believe cooking would be it anyway.” My brows flatlined. “Nor would it be in observing experimentations with ingredient amount or oven heat, Scootaloo.”

The little pegasus rustled her wings. “Sorry,” she said, with a nervous chuckle. “I was just thinking if I put it on high it’d speed things up a little.”

Well, she wasn’t wrong. “Things” were indeed sped up. It just so happened those “things” were less us baking a lovely cake, more me getting a cake batter shower.

But I stayed calm. I did not hiss, nor did I snarl and bare my fangs, or even think of biting them and dosing them with venom. This, I believe, could be considered great progress. Also, who would actually bite fillies? That just seems rude. And mean. Our venom does not do kind things to small prey or grown ponies, I shudder to think what it might do to a filly.

Princess Cadence was quite pleased when I noted this.

“Yeah, well, maybe we should get out of here,” Spike advised, his slitted eyes flitting to the doorway out to the main room. “Before we get in trouble again.”

Before I could ask why they would be in trouble again, I found myself grabbed by the hoof and hurried outside by a bunch of frantic foals. The most I could do was give a low, discontented hum as I cast a look back over my shoulder. I was supposed to be the one in charge and looking out for them. And yet, there I was, a changeling wearing a silly look in the middle of the crowded streets of Ponyville.

A few ponies did stop and look. Not so much stare, I noticed, but there was more than a hint of curiosity, wonder, and just a bit of nerves as well. Had Twilight spoken with them? Or was it just natural wonder of how I would behave, just as I did them.

Was this what I had to look forward to? Or would it be different everywhere else? I’d gone to the shops in my Crystal Hoof disguise while in Canterlot, after all. Though that was more so they wouldn’t recall me. Ponyville was a little removed to not recall such terror.

So, when I offered a sheepish grin and a tiny wave, I was pleased to note only a third stiffened or winced. Others offered polite nods and turned away, as if their interest had waned.

I was quite fine with this.

“So now what do we do?” Apple Bloom asked, kicking at the dirt. “We’ve tried cookin’ ’n hang glidin’, but ‘e don’t seem much for either.”

Hang gliding. I fought the urge to bring a hoof to my face. That had been a fine disaster. One which ended with me stuck in a tree, wriggling to try to get twigs and leaves out of the holes in my legs while they all babbled apologies and went to fetch a ladder to get me down. I ended up falling and managing to hover upright long before they returned.

But they were trying. And they were quite friendly. So, I would be gentle. “I’m afraid I must remind you yet again that changelings have never gotten cutie marks,” I said with as much patience as I could muster. The foals’ little faces began to fall, a pang shot through my heart. If I could suffer my overlady’s displeasure when bath time came, I could manage this. Clearing my throat, I turned to Spike for support. “Perhaps a game would be more fun.” Not to mention far less likely to end with me covered in muck or stuck in a tree. I hoped.

My friend tapped a claw against his cheek and hummed in thought. “We could.” He glanced at the foals. “What sort of game would you guys want to play?”

I will admit, without shame, the I sent more prayers to the First Mother that it would be something nice and easy, and not at all involving something ridiculous. Or anything that involved me covered in something sticky or picking something prickly out of my legs.

My hopes nearly died a most painful, terrible death as I saw those smiles return. “I have a pretty fun idea,” Apple Bloom drawled. “Changelings are awful good at hidin’ right?”

Arching a brow, I nodded.

“How ‘bout at findin’ things?”

What was going through that little filly’s mind, I wondered? Aloud, I replied, “My nose has never failed me, nor has my tongue. For tasting emotions,” I clarified, when they gave me funny looks. “Why do you ask?”

She turned to grin at the others. “Whatcha wanna bet we can get ‘im a hide ’n seek cutie mark?”

A loud cheer went through the crowd of little ponies. I blinked and took a step back. Finding ponies? Hiding? Were they aware of what they were asking me to take part in? “Uh,” I began, nonplussed. “How exactly does this work?”

“Well,” Sweetie said, “first round, you can hide.” Before I could protest on how ridiculously stacked in my favor that was, she raised a hoof and added, “No shapeshifting. And it’ll be all of us against you. We’ll play around town.”

“Base can be the lil’ fountain at the center,” Apple Bloom put in.

Scootaloo buzzed her little wings and waggled her ears. “We’ll give you to a hundred to find a spot and get hidden. Sound fair?”

Fair for whom, I wondered, taking a look around town square. Ponyville wasn’t exactly big, but I could already pick out a half dozen or so hiding places. Some discrete, others fairly obvious in that way none would ever think to consider them. And with foals …

Well, if they were anything like nymphs, I can tell you which they’d search out first, Small Pony Book, and it’s not the one you’d expect. Worse for them, I already had the perfect spot in mind.

A hundred seconds? No shapeshifting? Easy. I’d maybe need thirty or forty, depending on whether or not I was permitted to fly. So, a quick question later, and confirmation that there would be no flying on anyone’s part, and I amended my time to about sixty seconds. If only so I could double back to get to my hiding spot.

Cheating was just as big a part of hunting games for changelings as the actual seeking. I had little qualms suspecting that the near-vibrating crowd of foals would sneak a peek or two to see which direction I was headed.

And, honestly, Small Pony Book, I might have been just a tad disappointed if I hadn’t caught Spike doing so just a few seconds later.

“Very well,” I said with a nod. “I’m ready.”

Grinning and giggling as if they’d already caught me, they turned to face the fountain and closed their eyes, a few even leaning and resting their hooves upon the edge as they began to count.

My hooves had already begun to move before they finished the word “one.” My hiding spot had picked out before they’d even finished explaining the rules. The most difficult thing would be tricking them all into thinking I’d gone elsewhere. But that, Small Pony Book, is why it was important to study one’s opponent—you see, ponies are often loud, colorful, and ever-present. There are exceptions, of course, such as Miss Fluttershy—whom I nearly ran into as I skirted around a row of houses and had to give a quick apology lest the little rabbit on her head bounce a carrot off mine—but it’s a general rule of how things worked.

So, when ponies ran, there was typically a lot of noise. When changelings run, there’s no noise unless we want there to be.

And at that moment I bolted left and skirted those houses, I wanted there to be a lot of noise. Whether it was ponies yelping as I went dashing by, my breaths coming heavy, or my hooves pounding against the dirt path, the need could not go overstated. Until I was out of earshot, they had to believe I’d come this way.

All the while though, my eyes were locked on my hiding spot. And as soon as I’d gotten well out of earshot, I adopted a more changeling approach. My steps were silent, my breathing light through my snout, and eyes as wide as dinner plates, as ours always grew when focused on a goal.

In this case, the nice observation tower atop Town Hall. Specifically, the roof.

I asked if I was allowed to fly for a reason, Small Pony Book. They’d been so distracted by that they’d never thought to say I couldn’t climb.

The grin which split my face was only a tad smug.

Maybe just a little more than a tad.

“How the hay do you keep doing this?” a colt named Rumble cried, stomping his hooves as he leveled me with his best, most heated glare. If not for my time spent in the hive, I just might have felt it, too.

Innocently, I tilted my head. “I hide, I wait for the right time to move, then I move when you’re not looking,” I replied. The poor colt had every reason to be unhappy. I’d walked by and tapped his shoulder as I passed to make him look the opposite way. He’d been standing guard—a rather blatant form of cheating, I feel I should note—and I was feeling just a little cheeky. “Am I not supposed to do that?”

The foals grumbling was only surpassed by a snort from the little pegasus. “Yeah, but you’re way too good!”

“… You are aware that playing this game is just asking me to do what I’ve known to do since hatching, right?”

I must confess, I took more than just a little satisfaction in how he sucked in his lips and turned to look away, his charcoal tail flicking irritably.

“Let’s focus on the important bit,” Spike said, sliding between us. His emerald eyes glinted. “So? Did you get one this time?”

If not for my previous mishap, I might not have understood his meaning. The foals leaned forward, eager to see, none quite so excited as those three fillies.

With a shake of my head, I turned to bare my side to them. My polished, black carapace, gleaming in the warm sunlight and bare of any blemish. Or, more importantly to them, bare of any cutie mark.

The disappointed groan that arose from the foals made my chest feel fuzzy. It was rather silly to ignore my repeated statements that we changelings didn’t get cutie marks, but still. They were trying. And they were so sure they could help me find my place through playing and being silly, like a foal.

Yes, the temptation to shift one in place to satisfy their want for me to experience the same joy they knew did cross my mind. However, if I must learn some hard lessons about my way not being right, they must learn and respect that there were some things about changelings which simply wouldn’t change.

Although, I will say the love in each of them was quite appetizing. The love of friends wanting so badly to help.

My heart ached. “Perhaps if I try seeking this time,” I offered before I could think of something else.

Their ears perked. Scootaloo fixed me with a challenging look. “You really think you can find and catch all of us before we get to base?” she asked, pawing at the dirt.

I arched a brow. “My nose has never failed me,” I reminded her. “And you cannot fly either.”

“Ha! I won’t need to fly!” Her wings buzzed and magenta tail lashed. “I’ll be the first pony back here, you watch!”

So she claimed, but … well, spoilers. You’ll have to excuse me again, Small Pony Book, I’ve been called away again. That I will explain shortly. Pinkie Pie insists that I come away from you and Flurry and join her in trying a cupcake. Until next time, my friend.

*Excuse me, what? You and I are having a talk after this party, young changeling. - Shining Armor

16. Failure

Dear Small Pony Book,

Behold! As promised, I have returned to rescue you from the most terrible fate of a “cliffhanger”—plus one excitable friend and a cupcake or twelve shared on a tray between us.

I make no apologies for my gluttony, no matter how much it may stereotype me in this instant. These cupcakes are deliciously sweet, sweeter than love itself and are clearly the work of some higher being or eldritch horror the likes of which no mere changeling could possibly hope to comprehend.

Naturally, I’ve already had six. Don’t tell my hosts or Princess Twilight.*

But now is not the time to discuss my cupcake consumption. When last I left you, the foals were going to hide and I was going to seek them out after several rounds slanted in my favor. As if hide and seek would be unfavorable for me.

I had to pause a moment just now to allow Pinkie Pie a chance to get her mirth under control. As you might guess, Small Pony Book, finding a herd of little ponies plus one dragon … well, for a changeling, it’s not exactly a difficult task.

It’s what my kind has done since we came from Emerald Isle. It’s in our nature, and it’s something we train and hone our skills to perfection in every generation—even I was no different.

Finding little fillies and a baby dragon.

Simple. My nose alone would suffice to sniff each of them out, not to mention my tongue tasting every bit of their emotions.

But that would hardly be sporting, and after I made my talent for hiding and sneaking about plainly clear with several rounds of near effortless victory, I was feeling quite magnanimous.

To that end, I promised to forgo use of my nose and empathic tasting so long as they agreed not to use one of their number as a sacrifice so the rest could rush for base. “You all were able to work as a team to try and find me,” I explained. “I’m alone, so having one distract me while the rest of you run would be unfair. Especially since I agreed not to fly or shapeshift.”

They didn’t even counsel. Instead, they shared looks and seemed to hold some silent debate with one another, each weighing what chance they might have against me, a natural predator, if they didn’t accept my limitations upon them in exchange for a rather generous handicap.

I admit I was rather proud to see irritation flash across Spike and Sweetie Belle’s faces as they grudgingly accepted my terms. What a clever pair they were, and I must count myself doubly proud of Spike for holding a filly with such a cunning mind in his circle. One should always have a good conspirator.

Princess Cadence and Prince-Captain Shining Armor were most certainly mine.**

Once they’d all given their word and I turned away to prompt them to go hide, I sat back on my haunches and listened to the sound of their little hooves pounding against the ground with all the grace and subtlety of an angry cave troll. In the meantime, I turned my gaze skyward (remember, no flying means they can’t say I’m watching them go hide on a cloud) and began to count to one hundred as I enjoyed the sight of a nice, clear day.

It was a rather lovely one for a game of hide and seek, you know. I think you would have enjoyed the chance to sit outside and spread your pages while we took in the sun. Perhaps we’ll do that once we’re back home. Princess Cadence does enjoy sitting out in that odd little box-circle thing with Shining and my Overlay. We could always ask to join them, if they allow it.***

As I reached one hundred, I made sure to call out loud and clear for my opponents to hear, “Ready or not! Here I come!” Then, I perked my earfins to listen out for any panicked cries or that last little scramble of hooves as their owner hurried to find a hiding spot. Any would do, they no doubt thought.

And, much to my dissatisfaction, there were both of those things and more.

I heard no less than five little squeals, hooves scraping against the well-trodden dirt path, a grunt of exertion and sudden oof and rustling of foliage as they dove for cover. Then came a smattering of giggles from all around me. As if I needed further hinting where my quarry had hidden themselves.

I sighed and brought a hoof to my faceplate.

“Really? When I’m being sporting with this? By the First Mother’s fangs, really?” I found myself grumbling. Was this what Pharynx felt like when he was first teaching me to shapeshift and move about unseen? This consternation with it all?

If I ever saw him again, I might have to ask him. Well, if he doesn’t hit me for not attacking my hosts and feasting upon their love, that is.

I kept true to my word, Small Pony Book. I neither smelled nor tasted for their emotions, my attempt to make things as balanced as possible.

But there was only so much I could do when my opponents wouldn’t stop giggling and squealing and whispering, “Oh nonono! He’s coming this way!” under their breaths.

With an almost exasperated sigh, I moved to the bushes nearest the fountain and brushed a few branches aside to fix the pair of fillies hiding within with a flat stare. “Next time,” I said as I swiftly tapped each upon the head, “don’t giggle. Or whisper. Or pick such an obvious hiding spot near the base.”

Their whines and piteous pouting nearly made my chest ache. I was almost driven to linger and try to offer some measure of comfort of softening my critique, but I shook my head. I was hardly wrong in what I said or rude in how I did. Besides, they wouldn’t learn if I didn’t instruct.

Quickly, I turned to scan my surroundings for any daring little foals or dragons trying to sneak behind me to secure an easy win.

Lucky me that I had! For in that instant, I noticed three of the little would-be tricksters—Rumble among them—galloping toward the fountain, their ears splayed for speed, mouths tugging into wide grins, and eyes wide and fixed upon their goal.

Worse, they were all spread out, so there was no possible way for me to catch them all at once.

Well, at least they hadn’t quite cheated.

I dashed forth, hissing in challenge as I tried to head off the nearest foal. My earfins twitched at the sound of eager laughter and cheering from the hidden foals. The nearest foal, a tiny little earth pony with splotchy coat, squeaked as I bore down upon him and cut him off from the fountain, instead driving him to turn away to try and lose me the old-fashioned way.

Unwise. He should’ve risked beating me to the fountain. At least then, he might have been able to slip under my grasp.

A pair of victorious cries of “Base!” only spurred me on further. I put on an extra burst of speed, my longer legs and years of training hunting down ponies played well into catching up to my overlady when she decided it was time to flee, and in pulling right alongside this fleeing colt.

I didn’t tag him with my hoof, for I worried that I might throw him off balance and send him into a rather unpleasant tumble across the dirt path. One can imagine the scrapes and bruises that might have caused. Instead, in more an instinctual move, I struck as though I were going to pick up a naughty little nymph by the dorsal fin—just sub in that rather fleshy spot on the back of a pony’s neck, the perfect handle for me to grab with my incisors and lift him straight off the ground, his tiny hooves still flailing about in the air.

“Oh, blast me tail!” he cried, huffing as he crossed his forehooves over his chest. His stubby little tail flicked. Squirming, he tried to slip free of my grasp, but ended up wincing in pain instead.

My teeth are quite sharp and made both for tearing and gripping prey. Such a move was quite unwise.

Placing him down gently, I tapped his head with a hoof. “Close, but too obvious,” I chided. “You should have waited until I was checking a spot farther from the fountain and moved quietly.” That I had done the same when they were seeking me went unsaid.

Though I did think it.

Still, he huffed and scuffed his hoof against the ground before he trotted over to sit with the others where Rumble was currently fluffing his feathers and preening like he’d just been named prince for a day.

Frankly? I could give him that one. He’d gotten even with me for sneaking by him in the previous round. Though, I will note with pride (and a merry trilling buzz) that his was nowhere near as spectacular.

This, to my undying chagrin, would serve as a bit of a theme for the rest of our game. I would have to keep an eye out and not linger too long on the foals lest their fellows make a run. I only said they couldn’t do so as a group. Individually?

Truly, I must commend the ingenuity of foals. They abuse loopholes as well as any changeling worth their carapace. However, they weren’t dealing with another pony.

Deserter or not, I am a changeling. I would uphold what honor we had, however little.

I widened my large, teal eyes and swiveled my head about, ready to take in every bit of visual input possible. A little shift here and there, an odd rustling of foliage, even a little flash of colorful mane or eyes were all I needed to dash forward and drag a squealing, giggling little colt or filly from their hiding place. Some did manage to bolt, they even made it a few steps before either they tripped, caught by that fit of mirth or I picked them up just as I had the little one by the fountain, but the one or two who managed to dart by and make a break for it gave me the most irritation.

Because, naturally, as i would begin to give chase and try to herd them away from the fountain, another little one would sneak over to claim base.

Were it not for my vow not to sniff them out, this would have been an easy victory. But with the two or three out of the dozen or so foals sitting on the fountain ledge, lording their victory over their fellows, I felt a burn deep within my chest, my belly. I felt it rise into the back of my throat, stinging like bile.

Failure.

A wretched word in the hive. Failure was unacceptable. Failure to capture a bunch of little foals playing a game we changelings had mastered like none before or since was tantamount to sacrilege. Had this been a trial, were I still a member of the hive under the watchful eye of either my family or one of the swarm leaders, I would have been lucky to receive a bite and dose of venom as my only punishment.

I might have earned another visit from her.

I swallowed a mouthful of slime at those memories. Really, I was doing that far more than I felt comfortable on this trip. First fillies, now this? Mere memories? What changeling feared such things?****

Still, I had allowed far too many to make it to base. That wouldn’t do at all. I did a quick count and found, much to my delight (and quite a bit of relief) neither Spike nor his little band of friends. This, I found acceptable.

I could allow three foals their victory so long as I denied them. Call it my competitiveness bleeding through.

If Pharynx could see me now …

But as I noted this, something occurred to me: I hadn’t seen hide, hair, or scale of the foursome. They hadn’t so much as made an attempt at the fountain before being driven off.

Curious, no?

Immediately, my mind leapt to conjure the worst possible case scenario. What if they’d gotten themselves into trouble finding some difficult hiding place? Princess Twilight had specifically mentioned their talent for getting into danger, and then covered in tree sap and bark. If they weren’t making some move for base …

Well. I could allow a few foals to best me in hide and seek. I would not allow my friend and his to be hurt while under my watch.

Turning to the group of foals gathered around the fountain, I leveled them with a questioning look. “I don’t suppose any of you would have seen Spike, Sweetie Belle, Apple Bloom, or Scootaloo?” I asked.

“Haven’t since we all went and hid, but there’s no way we’re ratting them out!” Rumble retorted, his wings flared in open challenge, and to cheers of agreement from the others. Their voices seemed to lend him some sort of inner strength. He flew up so he was nose to nose with me and dared to snort in my face. “They’re gonna find their way back to base faster than even you can hunt! This time, you’re gonna be the one left in the dust!”

I decided there was little need to remind him that I’d caught most of his friends, therefore it the numbers were still in my favor. He seemed to be operating under the same thought I was: any foal making it to base was a loss.

Crack my carapace.

With a sigh, I turned away from the grinning, teasing foals and began to walk down the path, my eyes wide and scanning this way and that to search out the little miscreants. The sounds of hooves clip-clopping their cadence against the ground drew a flick of my earfins, then a slow turn to glance back over my shoulder and arch my brow at my crowd of tagalongs.

“You against the Crusaders and Spike,” one little filly with blue-rimmed glasses and pewter coat said, a hint of a wicked gleam in her eyes. “Somepony or somedragon or somechangeling is going to end up covered in sap. No way any of us are missing that!”

I would like to say I didn’t shudder, Small Pony Book.

But I shouldn’t lie to myself. Or my hosts. Or you, my friend.

With that said, I was not quite ready for the sight which greeted me when I did turn my gaze up the path.

My only warning was a sudden bark of laughter from one of the stallions in the market, then a roll of mirth through the center of town. I heard teasing quips and hooves thumping against wooden stalls, lost to their mirth. Even then, even with all that, I was not ready. Even as my eyes fell upon what could only be described as a strange blob looking amalgamation of some sticky goop, leaves, and twigs, my brain simply didn’t register what I saw.

Then I realized there was not just one of these strange abominations to sight—there were four.

My heart sank into my hooves. “Oh, no,” I muttered, my earfins already pinning with each step closer those figures took. For with each step they did take, I was able to make out their appearances more clearly.

The fillies’ manes draped and clung to their heads as if they’d been dunked in water and then glued into place, their coats were matted and twisted and littered with twigs, leaves, and dirt. Upon once vibrant purple scales and green scales, I saw the same, though with some rather interesting rivets of that sticky goop. Then, the scent of something sickly sweet reached my nose.

Tree sap.

Behind me, I heard the foals break out into shrieks of laughter and hooves thudding against the ground.

Meanwhile, I was trying to fight off a low, mournful groan mixed with a chitter. They’d gotten into trouble and made a mess of themselves—Princess Twilight explicitly asked me to make sure that didn’t happen! And tree sap! That was part of the order!

That groaning chitter rolled about in the back of my throat (and as I write this, Pinkie has made it a point to soothingly pet my dorsal fin and offer comfort that trying to prevent the fillies from their camaraderie with tree sap is a fool’s errand) and that blasted burn within my chest sank deep into my belly and turned into nausea.

I’d failed.

Again.

My dismay was worn plain upon my face, a fact which no doubt played a part in the matching sheepish grins worn on theirs as they came to a stop a mere three or four steps from me and then tried to look innocent.

Innocent while covered from head to hoof to tail in sap, bark, twigs, and leaves—and Princess Twilight’s orders echoed in my head as I surveyed them each in turn. “How?” I heard myself ask.

“Er, well,” Spike began, scratching his headfin with a goopy claw. “We were kinda thinking we could hide a bit farther toward the edge of town.”

“Timber Spruce has a lil’ tree farm for lumber out west, toward Cloudsdale,” Apple Bloom supplied. Trailing a hoof in a wide arc in the dirt, she shifted. “So, we thought we’d go hide and come up with a lil’ somethin’ to help us get a quicker start on the run if ya found us.”

“A little something?” I arched a brow and made it a point to eye their appearances, my gaze lingering upon each in turn.

They took it as prompting to reveal the mastermind of this little escapade. Or, in this case …

Spike and Apple Bloom stepped back so Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle could stand at the forefront of their little group. To their credit, they had the grace to look down at their hooves and pin their ears.

It was Sweetie who spoke up first, “I was thinking we could use our old slingshot from when we were looking for our cutie marks. So, we rigged it up and had it ready to fire.” Her head snapped up, she affixed Scootaloo with a baleful glare even I felt. “And then this feather-brained ninny tripped it before you even came looking!”

“Hey! I told you we needed to test it! It’s not my fault you guys didn’t get out of the dang way!” Scootaloo spat.

“Saying it while you’re tripping the stupid thing isn’t exactly a warning, doofus!”

I glanced back and forth between them, watching in some strange mix of silent bemusement and ire, growing with each passing word. For with each they spoke, my failure was only further affirmed.

They were a mess. They had gotten into trouble. All under my watch.

Clearly, there was only one way to redeem myself.

“Enough!” I cut across them. Stepping close, I looked down upon them, looming over therewith a stern gaze. “Princess Twilight asked that I keep the four of you out of trouble, but I have obviously failed in this task. This is unacceptable.”

Each filly blinked and tilted their heads. “Huh?” they intoned.

Spike groaned and brought a claw to his forehead. “Oh for the love of—Thorax, c’mon, you’re not our foalsitter. Twilight’s just being a worrywart.”

“Whether or not she has warts is not my concern, Spike. Nor is it my business.”

“That’s not what I—oh, forget it. Look, it’s fine—”

“It most certainly is not!” I cut him off with a resolute stomp of my hoof. “I was given an order and have failed in execution. Thus, I am now faced with fixing the problem.”

The foursome shared uneasy looks. “Uh …”

I pointed to each of them in turn. “You will accompany me to the castle and be washed clean of this … filth. Immediately.”

“Excuse me?” Scootaloo flared her wings. “We’ll keep playing if we want, buster! Who put you in charge?”

There is a trick we changelings do when we wish to look stern and bring nymphs in line—no, it’s not snarling or hissing or baring our fangs or snapping at them, those come after this. You see, our eyes … our eyes are rather big. Bigger than ponies’. And to ponies, they appear quite off-putting, or so I hear.

To that end, I looked into Scootaloo’s eyes and widened mine as far as they would go. “Princess Twilight Sparkle,” I said slowly, taking only a little pride in how she folded her wings and pinned her ears. “You will be cleaned of this filth one of two ways—you may maintain your dignity and walk through town with me, or I will cocoon and carry you like luggage.”

Again, they shared a look. Slowly, their little faces split into wicked grins. “We pick option three!” Sweetie said.

“There is no option three.” No, really. Of all my failings, counting isn’t one of them.

“Oh, yes there is!” Spike put in. “You never caught us! So the game is still on!”

I blinked. “What?”

“You wanna make us take a bath?” Scootaloo began.

“You’re gonna have to catch us first!” Apple Bloom finished.

Before I could even secrete my first payload of slime, they dashed off down the same path they’d come, hotting and laughing their little heads off. And that of their fellows behind me mixed with it all.

I sighed again. “Really?” Turning my gaze skyward, I shook my head. As far as I was concerned, the game was quite over the moment they decided to use a slingshot as part of this game. By the First Mother’s blessed fangs, I didn’t even stop to note their ingenuity and cleverness for thinking it, my ire was so great!

I would find and retrieve them. My nose had yet to fail me.

Nor had my slime glands.

I believe I made mention of the ease with which I found the foals without my sense of smell or empathic tasting. As you might imagine, Small Pony Book, it was no great task to locate my friend and his with them.

You see, ponies are not so built for hiding, nor are dragons. Their colors are vibrant, unsuited for concealing themselves without some sort of cloth, spell, or covering oneself in dirt and leaves, they carry rather distinctive scents—those in this area smelled quite a bit like apples, especially those of the Apple family. Scootaloo smelled of sweat, Sweetie of light perfume and fabric, and Spike of smoke, no doubt a testament to the fire within his belly. Those scents alone would have been enough for me to track down the path, straight toward the one which led to the sprawling land of Sweet Apple Acres, toward the rows upon rows of apple trees.

Of course, there was also that one, small detail that they were each slathered in tree sap that smelled so sickly sweet I could positively taste it upon my tongue. Though the look Pinkie shot me as I relayed this to her prompted an assurance that I was referring only to the sap.

Anyway.

I drew in a deep sniff as I came to the main gate, and was met with the scents of the wayward fillies and my friend. They had come this way.

A quick glance about made me frown. Sweet Apple Acres … well, I described it as sprawling land with an orchard that had rows upon rows of apple trees. I have failed to do justice to its size. Let us say, for the sake of argument, that we are on the grounds of Canterlot Castle—that is about the size of their land, from wall to wall. Now imagine extending another half outward, and that is their orchard.

A daunting area to search, but my nose would at least help give me the right direction. Think of it like a bloodhound, if you’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting one—powerful noses, those creatures, though quite mild until roused, despite the name.

“Howdy there, Thorax,” I heard Applejack call from off in the direction of the barn. Turning, I found her trotting toward me, her pale orange coat matted with sweat and a thin layer of dirt which could only come from a hard day’s work on the farm. As she came to a stop a few steps away, she tipped her stetson back and greeted me with a nod. “What brings you out to these parts?”

The game was over, so I decided that there was little harm in seeking a little help. I relayed the tale as quickly and concisely as possible, so not to overload her with information or lose her interest.

Applejack showed signs of neither. Like a swarm leader, or perhaps more like Shining Armor hearing guard reports, she stood with open ears and listened, only interrupting for clarification as to why I felt tasked with such a duty and how I came to be in a miniature game of hide and seek with the little ones. In fact, she slowly began to smile, and full on laughed when I mentioned the state they in which walked down that path.

“Lan’ sakes, those three fillies! ’N Spike, too!” She shook her head, her smile still in place. “Well, ya best get a move on, I reckon. They went scamperin’ out into the orchard, so they probably went and hid in their clubhouse. Good luck gettin’ ‘em outta there.”

“Oh, as long as I can find them, I will.” I pointed to my mouth. “I can cocoon them just fine and carry them. The trouble will be dealing with the four of them squirming through town.”

“Right.” She did her best to mask that little flicker of squeamishness that flashed across her face, but it was there all the same. But as quickly as it came, it was gone, replaced by a contemplative frown. “Y’know, I just might have a big ol’ basin we can dunk ‘em in so ya don’t have to carry ‘em back through town. Get ‘em cleaned quicker that way, too.”

My earfins perked. “You’ll help me?”

Applejack bobbed her head. “You’re a friend of Spike’s ’n Twilight’s, a pretty dang good one for Shinin’ ’n Princess Cadence, I hear tell you’re great with lil’ Flurry, and you’ve been nothin’ but a good colt since ya showed up. Wouldn’t mind callin’ ya one of mine as well.” Pausing a moment, she winked. “Plus, anypony or changeling willin’ to keep my lil’ sis ’n her crew in line is aces in my book.”

I daresay my chest filled with the same warmth which flooded my very being when Princess Celestia blessed me with a mere sip of her love. Another friend!

Bobbing my head, I voiced my thanks and vowed to retrieve the wayward foals and dragon, then scurried off to find my quarry once more, my nose to the ground as I tracked their scents. It was only a matter of time before I found this “clubhouse” they’d cloistered up in.

My redemption was at hoof. I would not fail a third time in one day, Small Pony Book. That, I vowed on my Name and eggshell.

As I journeyed into the orchard, I actually found myself quite thankful the fillies and Spike had gotten covered in sap and muck. Had they been clean, it might have been a more difficult task picking up their scents in this place.

The smell of apple was thick, permeating my every breath. Little Apple Bloom would have almost certainly been able to evade my senses for quite some time were it not for that sap.

Still, though, that was only if I closed off my remaining senses. Namely, my hearing. For you see, Small Pony Book, tracking a bunch of naughty little fillies and one stubborn baby dragon friend on its own wouldn’t be much of a difficult task—again, their scents are distinct, Apple Bloom aside, they’re colorful, and there’s really no way to get around my empathic taste. However, all of those become moot when one considers just how easy it is to track them when they simply won’t stop giggling.

Sighing in mild disappointment at such inability to hide had seemingly become a theme for the day.

I was able to find their clubhouse and circle around without being noticed. My eyes were wide, fixated upon the lone window and doorway. I did a quick little circuit about, using my natural colors to blend into my surroundings so I could ensure there would be no clever sneaking out a backdoor while I cocooned one or two of their number.

There was none.

A grin bloomed across my face, displaying the full array of my sharpened teeth. If they couldn’t escape, then this would be a simple matter entirely.

So why bother sneaking around?

I stepped out of the shadows and stuck my chin out in open challenge. From within the clubhouse, I heart a chorus of squeaks, laughter, and Sweetie Belle crying, “Oh, horseapples! He found us!”

“He has indeed,” I called back. I took one step forward, lowering my head, ready to dash in and snag each of them. “Last chance. Come quietly or I’ll come in and get you myself.”

There was a delay of maybe three seconds. Then, Scootaloo stuck her head out the window and dared to blow a raspberry, cross her eyes, and waggle her little ears at me. “Come on in, if you think you can!” she taunted before pulling her head back inside to another chorus of laughter.

If I thought I could?

She would be the first, I decided. If I had time, I might even let her hang upside down for a bit while I rounded up the others.

With a hiss, I shot forward like a bolt from a crossbow, climbing the short ladder in the blink of an eye and entering with my fangs bared. I loomed over the foursome, leveling them with a dangerous look as I began to secrete slime.

That was when their barely stifled smiles bloomed into wicked grins. But none so broad s my own friend’s.

“Now!” Spike cried.

From behind their backs, each of the little miscreants pulled out a strange cylindrical can with some sort of nozzle attached to the end. They pressed down on the nozzles before I could even think to wonder what might be inside those cans—with a shrill hissing, tendrils of strange foam shot forth from each of the cans and clung to my face.

A counterattack!

Panicking, I reared back, flailing my hooves as I hastened to pry the offending gunk off my faceplate. It covered my eyes and hugged my fangs like honey stolen from the hive, but tasted bitter, like some sort of chemicals had been mixed together to form this … whatever it was!

“Silly string attack!” the fillies crowed.

I staggered left and bumped into the wall, I could hear their little hooves thud against the wood as they passed me by, spraying off the last of their payload along my carapace while they bound for the doorway. But as they did, I heard Scootaloo add, “That’ll teach you to threaten to cocoon the Cutie Mark Crusaders!”

My blood boiled. I would not accept failure again!

I tore that disgusting “silly string” off my faceplate and threw it across the clubhouse, where it struck and stuck to the far wall with a muffled thud. Then, I bounded after them, just in time to see them hit the ground below and take off running.

Or so they intended.

Filling my mouth with slime, I spat a thick glob that arced over their heads and landed perfectly just in front of them as their hooves (and Spike’s clawed feet) were about to hit the ground. They didn’t even have the chance to yelp and try to alter course before they ran right over top it, and my slime greeted their efforts to continue by engulfing and clutching at them, dragging them right back into place with a rubbery stretching sound that was almost as musical as their cries of protest and indignation.

“Ugh! Gross!” Scootaloo gagged. “Thorax, I thought you were kidding about this stuff!”

Sweetie tried to prance and squirm out, to no avail. “Get me out! Get me out! Get me out!”

I smirked, approaching slowly, my wings buzzing a musical trill as I walked around so I could meet their eyes. “I warned you what would happen if you ran,” I said. “That you do not like the consequences of your failure to listen is of no fault but your own. And now, you will be cocooned, as promised, and carried to where Miss Applejack has set up a wash basin. Further resistance, I’m afraid, is quite futile, and will only make me wrap you tighter.”

“Wait, what? You told her?” Apple Bloom gaped. Her struggles to escape my slime doubled. “Don’t you dare! She’ll get that brush with all the rough bristles!”

There was no reason to bother replying. My mouth had already refilled with slime. Instinct took over, I was upon Scootaloo, coating her in the thick, sticky substance and swiftly wrapping it around her, forming a tight cocoon that kept her hooves pinned in place so she couldn’t wriggle free, leaving only her head and shoulders uncovered—this was just a capture wrap, not a full cocoon like those we hung from ceilings or caves. I didn’t want to frighten the poor filly.

The others followed in short order. Once I’d finished, I rolled them together, then spat a thick stream of slime to connect each cocoon like one of the straps I’d seen on luggage. I am not the most brilliant changeling, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have my moments. There would be no multiple trips, allowing the others a chance to see if they could escape somehow.

Impossible, of course, but I wasn’t taking chances.

I picked the cocooned fillies and dragon up by my makeshift strap and began to march out of the orchard to where Applejack awaited, heralded by a chorus of grunting, huffing, and protesting as my captives still tried to escape.

“So unfair!” Spike moaned. He made eye contact with me and shot me his most pleading look. “You’d really side with Twilight over your best friend?”

Guilting me.

And effective, to boot. I felt a pang shoot through my chest.

Then I remembered that my friend was a mess because he’d done what Princess Twilight warned me about and gotten into trouble with the fillies.

“Yeff,” I deadpanned through a mouthful of slime strap. Leveling him with a stern look, I added, “Varned ‘oo ah ‘ood ‘o ‘iff! Vut ‘i’in’ ‘isten!”

I won’t bore you with the argument that ensued from there—their keening whines against my flat, muffled voice. The cajoling and pleading didn’t stop until I deposited them in front of Applejack and the water basin and sliced open Spike’s cocoon. I wasn’t fool enough to open them all at once, and for good reason.

He made an admirable attempt to spring free, but I caught him as he leapt out of his wrap. With a stern nip to his earfins, I dumped him in the water and loomed over both the basin and the cocooned fillies while Applejack set about scrubbing him clean, my eyes wider than any pony’s could go.

They got the message that time.

But that didn’t mean they stopped complaining all the while.

I will confess, I felt quite a bit prideful as we trotted through town toward the Castle of Friendship. The guffaws and chortles that filled the air as the townsponies grinned and waggled their ears, whispering to one another as they eyed the quartet trailing in my wake were a testament both the speed with which the others relayed the tale and the looks of utmost discontent on each of their faces.

Prideful probably wasn’t quite enough to describe me at that moment.

Smug. I was a very, very smug changeling. A smug-ling, if you will.

My dear friend and his own had dared to challenge me, you see. I had proven this unwise and educated them that changelings were indeed superior when it came to hiding and seeking, especially in seeking out a bunch of naughty little ones who made a mess of themselves then refused to come along when one given a Royal Order commanded they be cleaned.

Their grumbles and glares did little to rob me of my victory or my smile. In fact, it only made me aim a fanged grin at them.

Which, in turn, earned a renewed bout of grumblings.

“Don’t give me that,” I chided as we rounded the bend and trotted up the pathway leading to the crystalline building. “I did warn you. And I offered you the choice twice.”

“Those bristles were rough,” Apple Bloom growled. Her little red tail flicked. “And that gunk was gross!”

“My slime is not gunk, that stuff you shot into my face was gunk. Tasted disgusting, too. You put it right into my fangs.”

“First off, that was silly string. Second, the hay’s the difference? If you’re gonna call that gunk, your slime is the same thing!”

“My slime is organic, can be ingested without fear of illness, and serves a purpose either for me to sleep or capture prey. Or, in this case, naughty little fillies and a dragon.” Arching a brow, I added, “And I reiterate: if I had put you in a full cocoon, with the sleeping solution and all, you would have still been able to breathe and wouldn’t have made you sick.” Feeling cheeky, I leaned down so I was almost nose to nose with her. “Therefore, my slime is functional and not gunk.”

Her eyes narrowed. For a moment, I thought she might have more to add. Instead, she merely stayed silent and trudged along by my side.

“Didn’t even get his dang cutie mark in seeking ponies,” Scootaloo groaned. “This is, like, the worst!”

Again, I found myself forced to swallow yet another reminder that changelings did not earn cutie marks. Mimic, yes. Earn, no.

But, I did manage it. They were already quite dismayed at having been cocooned and scrubbed, there was little reason to add insult to injury. Even if they did deserve that scrubbing.

As we entered the castle, we found Princess Twilight and Shining Armor chatting away with Starlight in the sitting room, each lounging on one of the plush cushions while Cadence and Sunburst entertained my overlady.

Naturally, it was Flurry who heard my steps and greeted me first. With a squeal, she launched herself into the air and flew over, latching onto my face and babbling a greeting. Her little tail swished and tickled my nose.

I sneezed, but smiled. “Hello, Flurry.” If I could have nuzzled her, I would have, but I had to settle for waggling my earfins.

“Tora, Tora!” She planted a kiss between my eyes, giggling at the way I crossed them. She loved my eyes so. “Furry s’im!”

“I heard! Was it fun?”

The giggles and swishing tail were a testament to how much fun she had. And the happy nuzzling I received as she began to climb over my head to find her place upon my back was more than enough to earn pardon for any hooves she planted in my nose or eye.

“I think she missed her favorite changeling,” Princess Cadence said with a warm smile. “How was playing with the foals?”

From her place on the couch, Princess Twilight added, “I heard around town they got into a bit of trouble. But it looks like you’ve managed to get them out of it.” She raised her brows. “And clean of any sap.”

Another chorus of grumbling behind me drew a smile. “Applejack was quite helpful in that. After I caught them.”

“’N wrapped us in cocoons, ya jerk!” Apple Bloom blurted.

That drew raised brows from all around. “Cocoons?” Shining asked, his expression demanding explanation.

I nodded once and gave them a quick recounting of the tale, how they had gotten covered in that mess and then run when I demanded they return to the castle for bathing. All to their chagrin, of course.

The adults seemed to consider this a moment. Then, Shining smiled. “Well, I would say not to cocoon them, but—” he aimed a look at my grumbly compatriots ”—if they’re going to run off like that, I suppose we can let it slide here.”

“Agreed,” Princess Cadence put in. A gleam shone in her eyes. “Though, perhaps we might discuss something with the fillies. Shining?”

His ears twitching, Shining smiled. “Ah, yes, yes. Girls, would you mind? You’re not in trouble, but we have a little … something planned. Spike, you too.”

“Thorax?” Princess Twilight said as my companions left with my hosts, leaving me with only Flurry, the mares, and Sunburst. “Would you mind sticking around for just a moment?”

Blinking, I tilted my head. “Am I in trouble for my failure?” I asked, my earfins drooping.

“Failure? Why would you think you’ve failed?”

Sunburst raised a hoof. “Thorax was raised … well, harshly, Twilight. The fillies and Spike getting into trouble, to him, is failure.”

“And covered in sap,” I added, abashed. “You specifically told me not to let that happen, but I did.”

Twilight’s ears twitched. She blinked twice, her eyes flitting to Starlight as if seeking rescue.

“To be fair, if you said that, then he’s got a point,” Starlight said with a shrug. Before she could protest, though, Starlight turned to fix me with a bemused look. “But I didn’t see any sign of a mess on those fillies or Spike. Thanks to you and Applejack, it seems.”

I fidgeted in place. “It was my obligation to redeem my failures,” I muttered. “I let them out of my sight long enough to get into trouble, so I felt it my duty to fix my error.”

That did little to set Princess Twilight’s mind at east, it seemed. Frowning, she tilted her head and rose from her seat, approaching me slowly. “Thorax, those three get into trouble as sure as Celestia raises the sun each morning,” she said, placing a gentle hoof upon my shoulder. “I didn’t mean they couldn’t get into any trouble, I just … well, I worded it poorly. I wanted you to make sure they didn’t get into big trouble.”

“But they did.” A low, sad chitter rolled in the back of my throat. “Using that slingshot could’ve ended badly.”

“Yes, and the girls and I will be having a talk with all four of them after you’ve gone home. They should’ve known better not to use such a silly thing like that in a game of hide and seek.” Her brows flatlined. “Or let you think making a mess in the Cakes’ kitchen was okay without cleaning it up.”

I winced. “I’m sorry.”

She patted my shoulder. “Not your fault. You didn’t know better.” With a small smile, she moved in close and hugged me tight. “Pinkie was only a little upset, until she talked to Shining. She knows you wouldn’t do that if you knew it was impolite, and that she’s going to have quite a lot of little helpers taking tomorrow off from school after I have a word with their parents and Cheerilee.”

Cheerilee was not a name I was familiar with at that time, but I have since met her and found her to be a lovely mare. Lovely, but stern. Good qualities for a teacher.

“Then … I didn’t fail?” I asked.

“Not in the sense you think, you silly colt.” Drawing back, Princess Twilight looked into my eyes and held my cheeks in her hooves. “You made a mistake, letting them lead you around, because you thought they knew best and all you had to do was follow their word. That’s not your fault for thinking, it’s mine for not telling you to take charge if you didn’t feel comfortable. I should’ve known better than to expect you to take initiative there until you felt my orders applied.”

This didn’t make sense.

None of it made any sense.

I shook my head. “I don’t understand. Princess, you make it sound as though you failed.”

“No. I made a mistake, just like you did. Mistakes happen, just like Cadence and Shining taught you when they told you not to bite ponies who displeased you or didn’t complete a task.”

“Then … I still do not understand. In the hive, I would be severely disciplined for this.” I blinked. “I’m not being disciplined?”

Princess Twilight shook her head, and then pressed a hoof against my nose. “No, Thorax. You’re not.” She leaned in and nuzzled me softly. “You’re being thanked. Because you tried your best, then made sure to make things right after you realized your mistake. You’re a good changeling, understand?”

No.

No I did not.

A mistake was failure. I learned that since the very day I hatched. This … this was …

I didn’t feel any burn.

I felt relieved.

I was relieved, but I didn’t understand why I shouldn’t be disciplined or think this a failure. Truly, this was a conundrum. A puzzle I could not hope to solve.

Not on my own, at least. “How am I good?” I asked.

“Because you try your best, both as a friend and as one asked to watch over others,” she replied. “And because, just like a certain morning Shining wrote me telling about the day you scared Flurry Heart, mistakes happen. Accidents happen. Loss of temper, sadness, bad days, there are things we can’t control, Thorax.” She made a point to look over my shoulder and smile, then croon as she leaned up to exchange nuzzles with Flurry. “And if you ever doubt that your mistakes don’t define you, I think you might just ask this little one if she loves her Thorax.”

Flurry clung to my neck and buried her face in my shoulder plate. “Yes, love! Love Tora loss ’n loss!”

Yes. Yes, I love Thorax. I love Thorax lots and lots.

I felt tears sting my eyes. I hadn’t failed. I wasn’t going to be disciplined. I wasn’t a bad changeling or minder or friend.

I was loved.

And then something hit the side of my face, splattering ice cold water across the three of us. I let out a hiss and staggered. I heard Princess Twilight let out a shriek and Flurry squealed in laughter.

Shining Armor’s low chuckling filled my ears. He was there, standing at the far entrance, bouncing a small, blue orb in his hoof. Flanked by Princess Cadence, the fillies, and Spike.

All were armed.

“Shining Armor, how dare you!” Twilight yelled. “Don’t you dare throw another water balloon in my—eek!”

A second balloon hit her right in the nose.

“All’s fair in love and war, Twily!” Princess Cadence sang as she picked another balloon out of the pouches I hadn’t seen slung across hers and Shining’s backs. “And you know I love water balloon fights, and we haven’t had one in years!”

“Quite right.” Shining kissed her cheek, but his eyes never left mine.

They shone with wicked glee.

He took a slow step forward. “And I owe a certain changeling a little payback for all those silly faces. Not to mention that wakeup call this morning.”

I swallowed a lump and took a step back. “I-I-I have Flurry Heart on my back,” I reminded him.

“Good point. Flurry!” he called with a big smile. “Come to mommy and daddy! We’ve got a new game to play!”

That did it. I was sunk. Flurry Heart loved games, a fact exemplified as she leapt off my back and flew right over to land upon her father’s, babbling and squealing.

There was only one thing I could do.

My eyes met Twilight’s. She lit her horn, casting a bubble shield just in time to deflect another volley of water balloons, and turned tail.

We ran as fast as we could, our pursuers’ laughter ringing in our ears, and the steady splat of their volleys spurring us onward.

I cannot tell who won the war in the end, though I will say this:

Princess Twilight is a brilliant tactician.

And I’m stunned Shining didn’t realize she planned for us to lead them to the lake so she could douse them all at once.

Pinkie Pie has, I believe, lost it at that, so I believe we shall end it there. Thank you for listening to this long tale, Small Pony Book. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I am tasked with aiding this giggling mare in devouring these cupcakes.

A task I accept with the gravity it deserves.

*Ahem. You’re not supposed to be eating that much sugar in one sitting and you know it. Don't make me have you sit at my side like I have Flurry at mealtimes, young colt. I will do it. - Cadence.

** You’re darn right we are. And as your conspirator friends, we’d like to echo Twily’s later point—you didn’t fail, you silly colt. Mistakes do happen, and you can’t control every pony. All you can do is try your best. And you did. - Shining.

***You are most certainly welcome to join us on the veranda, Thorax. If we would like a private moment, we’ll make sure to tell you. Thank you for being considerate enough to think to ask first, though. You’ve certainly come a long way from looming over the couch and drooling while we cuddle. - Cadence.

**** This isn’t unique to you, Thorax. This difficulty escaping the damage of the past. This is something everyone feels. Let’s have a talk when we get home. You, Cadence, and me. I ... I don’t like that this is eating at you so, and I can’t pretend I’m happy with this. The more I read about how you were raised, the more I find myself horrified and angry on your behalf. So. Once we’re home, let’s all go someplace nice for a little while and talk over lunch. We’ll find you a nice place that makes fish.

Please don’t feel that you have to be subservient to us. Please don’t feel like you have to think yourself of lower class. We don’t expect you to just flip a switch and not feel that way, we know it will take time. But there’s one thing each of us hopes you will come to understand and know in turn:

We love you, Thorax. - Cadence, Shining Armor, Flurry Heart, Sunburst, Starlight Glimmer, and Twilight Sparkle.

P.S. It was wonderful to have you visit, Thorax, and I’m glad to see you had fun. Spike was bouncing off the walls all week until you finally got here. You’re certainly welcome to visit anytime you like.

I may share a bit of this with the girls, if you don’t mind. Just so they know what you’ve dealt with and how hard you’re working to be a happy changeling living among us. I won’t tell Spike or any of the foals. That’s your decision, and I will respect that.

Oh, before I forget. One last thing: Call me Twilight.

All my friends do.

Author's Notes:

And so ends the first arc—Thorax's early days with Small Pony Book and his benevolent hosts. This next part? Well, we're finally getting to where we began with The Face I'll Wear.

May the First Mother have mercy on poor Thorax.

17. Home at Last

Dear Small Pony Book,

Can you feel it? Can you feel that cold, chilling breath across your pages? I most certainly can, for we are back home after weeks away!

Er. That is, I can feel the chill upon my carapace, especially my faceplate.

As you well know, I do not have pages. Nor do I have a cover, unless we count my aforementioned carapace, but it is made of chitin rather than whatever yours is. Cardboard, I think Shining said.

I shall have to ask him after this entry. Such information might be crucial to your prolonged wellbeing.

Truth be told, I didn’t miss the ever-present cold, which never failed to send shivers up and down my carapace, but the Crystal Empire is home. Far more near and dear to my changeling heart than the hive had ever been, no matter how fondly I might look at some of our way for its nice, neat, unthinking order when holding it up against the chaotic free will and individuality of ponies.

Of course, it also meant a return to normalcy after we’d finished unpacking and resettling. Namely, my duties entertaining and watching over my Overlady, Flurry Heart. That, as you might guess, is a most welcome thing.

I was more than ready to return to this. In fact, I even planned out the perfect way to begin our first day of mischief and play and laughter—what better way for her favorite changeling to do so than by sneaking up on the unsuspecting little filly as she babbled and fiddled with her dolls and pouncing her for a tickle session?

She never heard me as I entered her nursery. I crept up, my steps quieter than a mouse sneaking through the an alley full of slumbering cats in search of cheese, with a fanged grin wide enough to split my face as I loomed over her and began to rear up. Ready to give that wicked hiss which never failed to spur a yelp and a squeal before I swept her into my embrace for teasing.

Then Princess Cadence’s melodious voice floated through the air, “Thorax?”

Flurry and I both froze in place. In a moment I imagine must have looked utterly comical to those watching, the young princess hugged her doll to her chest and slowly looked up and back, nearly toppling over as she stretched to meet my gaze. Then she smiled upside down at me and giggled.

“Tora, sneak!” she chirped, kicking her hind hooves and gaily swishing her tail. “Mommy catch sneaky, sneaky Tora!”

That she had, much to my dismay. This was meant to be designated tickle attack and play time with Flurry. Far be it from me to question my hosts or their whims, as they have always looked out for me and considered my wellbeing, mental and physical, to be top priority. Still, that did not mean it didn’t rankle me at times when this cut into my plans.

A thought, which I only now just realized, is rather pony of me, no? Changelings do not question when they are summoned.

At least, not in my old hive.

Princess Cadence must have noticed my disappointment, for she offered a comforting smile. “Would you mind joining Shining and me for lunch? We have something we’d like to discuss with you.”

My heart promptly dropped into my hooves. “Have I done something wrong?” I asked.

“No, of course not.” She shook her head, her smile still in place. “We’ve just been discussing a few things over the last … well, quite a while actually, but we wanted to talk with you about a few things that had been on our mind for quite some time.”

Somehow, impossibly, my heart managed to slip through some crack in my chitinous hooves and take up residence about a hundred lengths beneath ground level. In my experience, such a leading choice of words didn’t mean anything good.

Then again, my experience for rulers prior to Princess Cadence and Shining Armor hadn’t been applicable before, so, logically, I could just about throw it all out the window. But, somehow, my brain won’t work in that nice, neat and orderly fashion it was meant to.

It was working in only the most liberal sense of the word. Functioning with some form of defect in how to adapt. I’d like to think it wasn’t as bad as it had been in previous entries when trouble arose, but I won’t lie and say those memories didn’t flash before my eyes.

In short, the defect was pulling me back into that mindset no matter how new experience should have kept me grounded.

All the same, I swallowed a mouthful of slime and gave a single, solemn nod. “O-Of course,” I stammered, cursing my nerves. Stepping away from Flurry, even as she toppled over and tried to nuzzle my hoof, I approached the Princess of Love with a tremor in my every step. “A-After you, Princess.”

The smile she sent in return came with a tidal wave of love and affection, all for me. I could feel it wash over my form like she was trying to drown my anxiety, the taste of it in the air and mention of lunch nearly had me ready to bow and ask if I might dine on her love right then and there. But, like a good subject, I kept my wish to myself until my host deigned the time appropriate.

A familiar sensation trailed up my back, just along my wing casing.

Princess Cadence’s soft, delicate primaries caressed my carapace as gently as butterfly wings. She wrapped a wing around my back, that same loving embrace, that same gesture which made my heart flutter and fill with warmth as those treacherous thoughts, those flights of fancy flitted through my mind.

I dared allow myself to drift just a bit closer to her as we exited Flurry’s nursery to meet Shining Armor in the sitting room of their lavish suite, until my shoulder brushed against hers.

By the First Mother, how secure I felt under her wing again. And how Shining’s crooked smile at me before he sidled up on her right and nuzzled her cheek as he fell right into step made me feel as though this was all the natural course of things.

Little did I realize, they would so test that security soon enough.

When Princess Cadence mentioned lunch, my thoughts had flitted back to that little note left at the bottom of my last entry.

Yes, I do read those. I don’t always comment on them, because typically they are little bits of advice that I can apply in my daily routine or Shining promising retribution in the form of water balloons—which, as demonstrated, was a very real threat—but I do read each and try to take them to heart. Even if they might seem difficult to put into place. But I digress. I read the note and I recalled the promise of a nice restaurant with fish to eat.

My hosts did not disappoint.

The restaurant was but a short carriage ride away. I could smell delicious food, freshly baked breads and vegetables before we even stepped through the door. With a trilling buzz, I walked under the glowing sign which read Seafoam’s Sea Fare at my hosts’ side.

Together, we entered and were greeted by a pair of young mares maybe a year or two my senior. It had only been quick thinking on my part to change into my Crystal Hoof disguise inside the carriage rather than chance a scene. Whatever oddities might dull those in Ponyville to the shock of a changeling in their midst or make the foals take it as some sort of novelty might not hold true here. And, really, I felt it wise to be a little extra careful here and in Canterlot.

Canterlot, of course, was the capitol. Should I be invited back as part of some event with my hosts, I would need to actually be—well—welcome in the castle. Princesses Celestia and Luna had made clear that I was, but a disguise while out and about to ensure there wouldn’t be a fuss seemed wise.

Think of it this way, Small Pony Book, would you invite someone to your home if you knew they’d make the neighbors run around in a blind panic?

Wait, you don’t have neighbors. I should fix that.

Anyway, I didn’t want to cause trouble for them. That applied double for the Crystal Empire as, of course, it is home.

Who wants to come home to a place they aren’t welcome? Granted, that might mean I’m only welcome depending on how I appear to certain ponies, but, as a changeling, it’s rather expected. In fact, it’s just the way things have always been. That I am welcome in the Crystal Palace as myself rather than Crystal Hoof is nothing short of a blessing granted by my wonderful hosts and all the ponies in the Royal Guard and staff.

And just as was right and good in the world, the young mares didn’t notice anything amiss with my disguise. In fact, one fixed me with a most dazzling smile and fluttered her lashes, her scent of roses and chocolate and sweet, delectable love.

Shining Armor nickered and tugged me along before I could start drooling. “Come on, Casaneighva,” he quipped. “Let’s get you your fish before you get every mare but Cady hanging off your legs.”

I’m not entirely sure why they would be hanging from my legs, Small Pony Book. I certainly hadn’t charmed them, nor did I have any wish to do so. Granted, they did smell lovely and I wouldn’t mind a drink, but I had learned my lesson. Asking came first.

Then feeding.

The mare who gave me that lovely smile stepped around the counter with a swish of her platinum gold tail and turn of her hips that made my gaze trail up and down her form—quite a beautiful one, at that, as good as any changeling disguise—and led us to a secluded table in the very back, through a heavy wooden door. A private room for special guests.

Quite sensible. One never knew when royalty or some other important pony or dignitary might come in to dine, so why not be prepared?

I waited for Princess Cadence and Shining Armor to take their seats nearest one another before taking my own. But as the Princess of Love fixed her husband with a smile and nuzzled his cheek, her right wing, the one she’d wrapped around him, rustled and gave me a glimpse of something off color. Almost the same shade of creamy yellow as that stripe in her mane and tail.

The folder.

That elusive collection of papers and half-words they and Princess Twilight had been so careful to obscure and slide from my attention these last couple weeks. They had brought it to lunch for discussion. For what purpose, I did not yet know. But I had a sneaking suspicion there was something rather big in that folder.

Enough so that I could feel my fangs itch—hidden though they were. I might not be the most cunning of my race, but I knew when someone was scheming.

My hosts were scheming. Frankly, they weren’t so much trying to hide that so much as they were keeping the details close to their chests, so I don’t think I can make too much of a claim that they need to take lessons on keeping secrets.

That didn’t mean I didn’t feel the sudden urge to swallow a mouthful of slime as my rump hit the chair, however. For once, my glands behaved.

But only just.

“I hope you’re hungry,” Shining said, scooting his chair just a little so he could be wrapped in Princess Cadence’s feathery embrace once again. He tapped one of the menus set upon the table. “The gryphon dignitaries always love this place, but the meals are pretty big.”

I won’t pretend I didn’t lick my lips as I took up my own menu and flipped to the fish section. Yes, I would normally have said seafood, but the entire restaurant was for seafood. So, I felt quite right in dividing it up as I did.

The menu seemed happy to back up my logic, for it too had a section for fish and shellfish.

Shellfish. Now there was something I hadn’t tasted since the time the hive raided those gryphon towns out in the northeast—don’t ask, it wasn’t a good time for the poor gryphons. Even if they were delicious. It was there that I developed a taste for scallops.

Not to dwell on the sad fate of those gryphons, but there were some big scallops in that area. And quite sweet, I should note. The gryphons loved to make them in some sort of a soy sauce and then dip them in some creamy substance I just couldn’t name for the life of me. I believe the Queen once told me the name once.

I hope you’ll pardon me for dropping you suddenly. I, er, lapsed, as Shining calls it. You’ll see that as I continue.

While I didn’t quite remember the exact dish I once ate as a gryphon, I did recognize a few spices of some of their fare. Perhaps because of how frequently they hosted gryphon visitors.

Regardless, I decided I would have that and relayed my choice to a rather smartly-dressed (I assume, I don’t understand fashion) stallion with the perplexing title of “waiter.” Meaning, he apparently gets rewarded for waiting.

I don’t get it either. So, naturally, I began the conversation with that question as soon as he left us with our orders. “Why do ponies reward those who wait?” I asked.

My hosts fixed me with quizzical stares. “What?” Princess Cadence asked, her tone tinged with mirth. “What do you mean, Thorax? Who’s waiting?”

“Him.” I pointed off in the direction our waiter had gone. “And the others who are ‘waiters’. They are rewarded for waiting, right? This seems rather odd.”

A smile tugged at her lips. I noticed her feathers twitching, her scent that of amusement and humor. “Thorax, I think you misunderstand his job.”

“His title is waiter, is it not?”

“It is, yes.”

“So, he is one who waits all the time.” I pointed to myself. “I wait often for things, but I am not rewarded with pay unless I ask for love and wait for my request to be granted. Why does he receive pay if what he does is wait and nothing more?”

I must have said something hysterical, Small Pony Book, for Shining Armor burst into a fit of laughter and brought a hoof up to cover his face.

His shoulders shook, his cheeks flushed a brilliant pink as he slapped his thigh with his opposite hoof. “I think you’re taking it a little too literally, buddy!” he said through a smattering of chortles. “Waiters don’t just stand around and wait!”

My brows shot up. This was very new information to me. “Then … why is he called a waiter if he does not wait?”

“He does!”

Small Pony Book, I’m still uncertain if it was me or him, but this explanation just didn’t make a lick of sense. Helplessly, I turned my attention to Princess Cadence and sent her my most pleading look, silently conveying my desire that she take pity on her poor changeling subject.

To my relief, she did. “A waiter or waitress is a pony who waits on patrons in a restaurant, Thorax,” Princess Cadence explained with a sunny smile.

I blinked twice, cocking my head to one side. “But that … is what I just said, is it not? He stands around and waits. And gets paid.”

“Yes, but he’s not just sitting around waiting. He’s waiting on us so he can take care of what we need during our meal. So, he’s performing a service.”

Again, I blinked, slowly tilting my head further and further until it was parallel to my shoulders. Then I continued on until it my neck popped and cracked as I simply shifted the joints about to allow me to rotate upside down.

I would have made it if not for how Shining grimaced and held up a hoof. “Thorax, stop. That’s … look, not when we’re about to eat, buddy,” he said, his cheeks turning a sickly green.

In a series of rapid cracks, I righted my head and bowed. “My apologies. That is not an abnormal way of conveying confusion among my kind.”

“No offense, but it’s rather unnatural to ponies. We can’t do that.”

That made a lot of sense, actually. I hadn’t even accounted for their neck joints when I changed form. Perhaps I should?

“I will avoid doing so in the future, then.” I paused a beat, then amended, “At least not at mealtimes.”

Shining nodded. “Thank you.” Turning his gaze to Princess Cadence, he drew in a deep breath and gave a crooked, almost hesitant smile. “Well, that little detour aside, do you wanna lead off or should I?”

“I don’t mind.” She placed that folder upon the table, trailing a gilded hoof along the edge. “Do you want to start with this or—”

“No, I think that can wait until after we talk about the other thing.”

My head spun, I glanced between them, jerking back and forth as if I were watching a rabbit flit about between the bushes. What were they even talking about? Was I even in this discussion?

I did not feel like it. Honestly, it was like watching my brother go over plans to snatch gryphons, only to realize I hadn’t been paying attention until the part where we fed.

This time, I was quite certain I hadn’t made that error again.

Licking my false, crystalline lips, I spoke up, “I feel as though I am missing some crucial details. What is this and the other thing that we are meant to be discussing? Or is this something I should pretend I don’t hear?”

The latter is quite important when your friends’ business is state business, Small Pony Book. Do keep that in mind.

Princess Cadence shook her head, her smile still in place. “Sorry, Thorax. We’re being a bit silly, I suppose.” With a little ruffle of her feathers, she folded her hooves neatly atop the folder and said, “There are actually a couple things we wanted to talk to you about. The first, well, is something that’s bothered us for a while.”

“Nothing you’ve done,” Shining was quick to add before I could panic, and I very nearly did. “Just … buddy, you understand that we don’t think any less of you for what you write in Small Pony Book, right?”

I was confused as to what you might have to do with this, but I nodded. “Yes, of course. You said as much when you presented it to me and asked that I write my daily thoughts down so we might discuss and learn together.”

“Just making sure. That said, you of course know that we read what you write.” I nodded again. “So … buddy, I’m just going to level with you here …”

Shining Armor frowned. He leaned forward, one of his hooves twitching as he gripped the table’s edge. I could see every muscle in his shoulders tense. “The things you describe about your life as a nymph, how you were treated, just bothers me. Us.” He squeezed his eyes shut. A flash of pain flitted across his face, then was gone and buried beneath a stony grimace. “I worry about you.”

My heart somehow lodged itself in my throat. I could feel my blood run cold in my veins. “Th-That’s unnecessary!” I sputtered. A bead of sweat rolled down my brow. “Ch—We believe in very rigid discipline, like the whole biting and venom punishment!”

To my dismay, my words did not allay their worry.

Instead, Princess Cadence’s ears splayed. She reached across the table to caress my hoof. “Yes,” she said softly, “and that’s not normal. Not in that way, at least.” Sighing, she closed her eyes and drew in a sharp breath. I could see, for a brief instant, the face of the mare who cracked Libulella’s faceplate with a single kick.

I wondered if she might be envisioning the Queen’s face, and how it might look after a few such kicks.

Her grip tightened. “What you describe in your writing isn’t something anyone should suffer, Thorax. There’s a word for that and it isn’t discipline.”

There was?

I couldn’t help but fidget in place. “What word is that?”

“Abuse,” Shining replied simply. He looked me in the eye, his gaze hard, but somehow, inexplicably warm. Like he longed to put himself between my past and me. The Captain of the Guard breathed deep, shaking his head. “Biting, dosing with venom, berating, hitting, promising pain, all of that and whatever else was done to you.”

Abuse.

I knew this word. That … oddly. Something just didn’t …

No I wasn’t.

I shook my head. “No.”

“Yes.” Shining Armor then lit his horn. In a flash of magic, you appeared by his hoof. For the first time since you came into the Crystal Palace, I … I think Shining Armor looked at you like he was angry.

He set his hoof upon you with a resounding thud. “I know it’s not pleasant to think about, buddy. But—”

“I wasn’t.” I shook my head so fast my false mane bristled. “Abuse … Abuse is when a ruler uses their power only to cause misery and benefit themselves—she taught us—”

“Who benefitted from a hive who didn’t question her?” he interrupted. “Who benefits from a hive so afraid they’ll do whatever she says, no matter how horrible?” Here, his eyes showed something else as he glanced between you and me. Only then did I realize it.

Not anger.

Hurt.

For me.

“I … we …” What could I say? As far as I knew, my life had been that of every changeling since the dawn of time, all the way back to the First Mother. “But that’s just …”

“You mention her a lot,” Princess Cadence whispered. “Taking care of your punishments herself. I might not know her as well as you, but Chrysalis didn’t seem like one to bother with just any changelings in her hive. Was that normal?”

I thought I knew fear before, back in the hive. What a joke.That wasn’t fear.

This was.

Something stung the corners of my eyes. Tears. By the First Mother, ponies brought me to tears! She would certainly backhoof me for such weakness!

“Please don’t make me say it,” I begged.

They knew, though. I saw it in their eyes.

Still, Princess Cadence gripped my hoof tight and asked the question I’d so dreaded, “Is she?”

My heart shattered into a thousand pieces. They knew. I hadn’t hid it well enough, I hadn’t done spared them the truth. Every day they looked at me, they weren’t just looking at some fool changeling who struggled to hurt anyone.

I let my head hang. Hot tears ran down my face and splattered upon the crystal floor. My shoulder shook. “Yes,” I whispered, my voice hoarse and strained. Slime filled my mouth, it clung to my very lips as I tried to force myself to speak further. “Yes. Yes, she was. M-My … I’m … I’m …”

Princess Cadence was at my side, wrapping me in a hug before I could finish. “I know. It’s not your fault.”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“Shhhh. Baby, please don’t be.” She kissed the top of my head, nuzzling into my mane. Envy filled my chest. Hot, corrosive, and poisonous. I wanted this so much. I wanted this sort of mother! I wanted her!

Instead, I got mine. Instead, I was Thorax, Prince of Changelings.

The youngest son of Chrysalis. Or, as she so eloquently put it, her lesser, unworthy son.

Yet, they didn’t scream. They should have. Everything I knew told me they should have, just look what she did to them!

Look what I helped do.

The cool touch of golden horseshoes teased my cheeks as she guided me to look into her eyes. Those deep, soulful purple eyes. “You don’t have to tell anypony else,” Princess Cadence whispered. “I just had a feeling based on how you spoke of her and how often she came up. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“No! You didn’t—I just—”

My face must have betrayed my horror, for she kissed my forehead and asked, “You didn’t want me to see her every day I looked at you?” At my single, sheepish nod, she smiled sadly. “You silly colt, who could ever confuse you for her?”

“That’s probably my fault,” Shining grumbled. I glanced over to find him glaring down at the table. “Sorry. The way I acted the day we met must’ve just driven that home.”

Admittedly? Yes. But who could blame him?

All the same, he looked up to meet my eyes. He set his jaw and tapped your cover. “What you talk about here, how your memories hurt you, isn’t abnormal by any means, Thorax. It’s actually part of why we wanted you to write in Small Pony Book every day to go over how you felt about learning or seeing something new. Or just how you felt about doing things in pony society every day.” Shining paused a beat, then added, “Well, a pony household. Same principle.”

“How is it not?” I muttered quite bitterly. Whether or not they felt it, I truly was pathetic for a changeling. “Mere memories can’t hurt me.”

“They can,” he countered. “And, often times, they do hurt. A lot. You know full well how much Cady and I wrestle with our own memories of what happened that day.”

True enough. That, I could not deny.

It was a thought I didn’t like at all. My mind was meant to be sharp, functioning at its peak in order to best serve my rulers—them.

Instead, it was fragile enough to let those memories of my younger years haunt me so.

Then again, does that imply that I’m insulting my hosts for feeling the same? Their pain, of course, was great. It was pain I knew quite well from watching my hive foster it in many, many places.

Too often had I been a party to it as well.

My hoof trembling, I reached up to hold my aching head. Everything was muddled, tangled into an absolute mess the likes of which I wasn’t sure I could ever unravel. My breaths came in short, ragged gasps. Images, remnants of pain flashed through my mind. The left side of my jaw ached above all else.

She always swung from the right.

“I was abused,” I heard myself murmur, almost disbelieving the words even as I spoke. “For failure.”

Princess Cadence held me tight. The scent of strawberries, chocolate, love and concern filled my senses. “It’s okay, Thorax. It’s not your fault.” Gently, she turned my head so I looked into her eyes again. “You didn’t deserve what happened to you.”

Every word spoken to me over the course of fourteen years screamed otherwise. Yet, the soft voice of this mare, the Princess of Love, seemed to make it all recede enough that I could breathe at last.

Fresh tears streamed down my cheeks like running waterfalls. My eyes stung so, I buried my face in her chest and wept unabashed. “I am unwell,” I whispered shakily. “I am not whole. I am deficient.”

The sound of a chair’s legs screeching against the crystal floor pierced my ears. Shining Armor strode around the table in three quick steps and laid his strong hoof upon my shoulder, bowing to touch his forehead to the top of my head. “Hurt and unwell are two things I know well—those, we can help you heal with time. Deficient?”

I felt him pull me back, out of Princess Cadence’s chest so he could bring himself down to look at me, pathetic a scene though I was.

His eyes were hard and stern, his jaw set. “You,” Shining Armor said gravely, “are not deficient. You are Thorax, a good, helpful changeling who makes my daughter smile and laugh, befriended a dragon and a bunch of ponies, and earned the favor of four princesses. You’re a changeling with a good heart, despite the pain you’ve felt.” Slowly, a smile began to spread across his features. He leaned in and pressed his nose against mine. “That, buddy, I’ll fight you on until it gets through your head. Okay?”

Fourteen years of words to the contrary tried to scream louder. Every strike, every bite, every scorning look and mocking word before the entirety of the hive.

Words uttered by two ponies called weak tools, food and stock for our ascension to the pinnacle of the world, banished them into a chamber far darker than the depths of that cavernous, black castle I was born.

The trembling in my shoulders spread throughout my body. I nodded as best I could, unable to even speak further.

My mouth, honestly, was too full of slime to even try.

There was a flash of cerulean and a pair of sudden popping noises. Princess Cadence offered a small smile. “I think we can leave off the other part of this talk another day. This—” she squeezed me again. Was she trying to see if she could simply hug the past out of me? “—This is enough for today. You’ve been brave enough.”

Brave?

I was brave? For talking and admitting this to them?

I had never been called brave before. Curious.

Again, Shining leaned in, this time touching his forehead to mine. “Yes,” he muttered. “Yes, you have.”

Somehow, I managed to force that mouthful of slime down my throat. “But the folder,” I protested weakly. “And the other thing—”

“Tomorrow. You won’t have to wonder another day, but this is enough.” The Captain of the Guard thumped his forehead against mine. “You don’t have to be brave again until tomorrow. Today, I don’t want you to do anything but enjoy your scallops and relax. Consider that my order as your—” he hesitated for a split second, then finished, “As your guardian.”

Something clicked. I had an order at last.

Scallops and relaxing.

Food and rest to better serve another day. Finally, a return to something I knew.

Finally, the haunting words of fourteen years receded from my ears. In their place, something new.

Something I wanted more than just to feed on the love I felt billowing from my hosts as they released their embrace and returned to their seats so we might resume our meal with little more than idle chatter about what silliness I might get up to next time I saw Spike or what sneaking I might do with Flurry.

That moment between them would have almost been perfect, if only my overlady had been with us too.

It would have almost made us seem like a family.

Author's Notes:

Yeah, sorry this one took a while. Muse has been all over the place and I've been busy as hell with school and work.

18. Bravery? I Think I Prefer Hiding

Dear Small Pony Book,

Princess Cadence made good on her promise. I did not have to be brave and face whatever my hosts kept tucked inside that manilla folder for the remainder of the night.

I admit, I was not exactly at my best throughout the rest of dinner. The topics discussed unsettled me in ways I cannot aptly put to words. In ways I do not wish to describe, for reasons I would much rather allow you to keep your innocence of. That is, perhaps, not my most eloquently constructed sentence, but I find myself in a rather odd place today.

You see, the conversation did not just stop.

They didn’t pry. They didn’t corner me in the carriage, pester me when we walked back into the castle, or pull what would’ve been a trick worthy of a changeling and wait until I was relaxed and playing with Flurry to resume. Princess Cadence didn’t need to prompt me when she invited me to join her on a walk through the gardens, out to a little spot overlooking Snowfall Valley where I found myself held close beneath her wing while we sat together. Something she’d hoped would ease my pain.

They didn’t need to ask me to continue or if I felt comfortable doing so.

I simply did. In spurts, mind you. There were moments I would taste their horror or fury and recoil out of pure instinct, or where one would suddenly hold me close while I shook and tried to stop the tears rolling down my cheeks, or even understand why and when I had begun crying.

Everything just started to come out. Every horrid sneer, cutting barb, hoof across my face or fangs piercing my neck and shoulders, and night spent wishing I could change myself as I drained some pour souls dry of their love to fill my belly. All of it, until I finally worked myself to exhaustion and just fell asleep safe in that warm, feathery embrace.

That was the last thing I remembered. So, logically, I should have awakened either still in her embrace out in the garden, jarred from sleep so we might go inside, or in my room. Or just out in the garden, laying in the grass until the sun’s unrelenting warmth and light forced me to open my eyes.

As you might have inferred from my above rambling, this was not the case.

I awoke in a bed. That much, at least, was certain. Slowly, my sleep-addled mind registered that the mattress was soft, far more so than the one I slept on when I was ill, and warm. The covers thick as sheep’s wool and just as soft, though nowhere near the warm objects draped across my body, one rather soft and feathery around my midsection, the other firm and muscled like a leg around my shoulders, both drawing me back toward something rather solid.

Then I felt a pony’s soft, rounded snout turn to press against my cheek. A mare.

My eyes shot open and I was greeted by a blur of pink, purple, and creamy yellow, and in the corner of my vision a hint of snowy white.

And all around me, familiar pictures of family and friends, old awards for sports and honors, shelves stocked with books, an oaken desk with cushions of blue and pink laying by the wall, and my slumbering overlady’s crib.

All around me, the opulent interior of my hosts’ bedroom.

It was right about then I realized where I’d slept, who was holding me so protectively and lovingly, and in a place that would have previously ended with …

Pain pierced through my carapace, right where my neck and right shoulder met. I could feel her fangs, her venom burning through my veins as it worked its insidious games and rendered my muscles useless! My reaction was quite justifiable.

I screamed in utmost terror and leapt out of bed. At least, I tried. I most certainly did scream, and loud enough that Shining let out a yelp and fell right out of bed in a tangle of limbs and sheets. The sounds of his struggle to escape their confines made my earfins twitch and droop.

My face, specifically my snout, met the floor in a most unpleasant union of chitinous faceplate and fangs and crystal. Crystal floor wins that match up every time, in case you were wondering, Small Pony Book.

It is not recommended you attempt it, as I fear your spine may not take the fall well.

“Whasa—Thorax?” Princess Cadence slurred. “Whassamatter?”

Through the pain, real and traumatic, I realized my state. I’d just awoken my hosts, and was still draped half on the bed with my backside on the edge. Thinking quickly, I touched my chin to the collar of my chest plate and gave a little wiggle and pushed off the bed, rolling forward until my back hit the floor with a thwap of carapace on crystal.

I do not recommend you try that either. My backplate and wing casings, strong though they are, only spared me some of the pain.

And it certainly jolted Princess Cadence out of whatever sleep still lingered. I looked up at the ceiling for a moment before her face, framed by her long, disheveled mane, appeared over the edge of the bed, upside down thanks to my state. Her deep purple eyes met mine as she blinked and slowly tilted her head. “A nightmare?”

Heat filled my cheeks as I shook my head. “I … felt this was a place I was not meant to be at such a time. I, er, panicked. And thought back to certain things.”

I could see—and taste—comprehension dawning. “She never held you when you were frightened or upset at night?”

It was quite impossible to miss the incredulity and slight scorn in her tone. Again, I shook my head. “Seeking out comfort at night is cowardly and shows weakness in changeling nymphs,” I recited. “We stay in our pods alone.”

“I see.” Princess Cadence let a discontented grumble roll in the back of her throat. Then, she breathed a heavy sigh and brought a hoof up to rub her eyes. “That isn’t near the case in ponies. I brought you here for comfort, so you were in exactly the place you belonged.”

My hosts, as you may notice, make regular habit of trying up everything I know, stuffing it into a bag, and hurling it off a cliff. Figuratively speaking, that is.

I found I didn’t mind it one bit.

There was a curse and rustle of sheets, then clickety-clack clickety-clack of pony hooves upon the crystal floor as Shining rounded the bed, his eyes quickly darting about with all the alertness of a Royal Guard captain despite how out of sorts he looked. “What happened? Who screamed?” he demanded in a rush. Seeing me on the floor, his brows raised and posture began to relax. “Nightmare?”

“Not quite,” she replied with a shake of her head. Princess Cadence glanced just past me, offering a tired smile. “And it looks like someone else is awake and coming to check on Thorax, too.”

I heard a foalish grunt, a rattle of hooves pushing off the edge of a wooden crib and rustle as wings unfurled and flapped once to glide over to us. Flurry Heart landed upon my chest, with her favorite blanket in hoof and those baby blue eyes wide and lips tugging into a most concerned frown.

Then she began pushing her blanket against my cheek and crooning, just like her mother would when she awoke frightened by her own nightmares.

Sensible, given all she knew was that I’d fallen out of bed.

I wrapped my hooves around her in a gentle hug in silent show that I was well enough. Then, I began to sit up, shifting her slightly so I wouldn’t drop her as I rose to my hooves and moved to place her upon my back.

My overlady replied with a happy smattering of babbles and proceeded to drape the blanket around my neck and shoulders as though it were some sort of scarf. Or perhaps a stole would be more apt.

Honestly, I didn’t—and don’t—care. It was a most kind gesture.

And comfortable, too.

Her mother, meanwhile, slid out of bed with fluidic grace and ran her side along her husband’s, purring as she gave his cheek an affectionate lick. Princess Cadence let her gaze flit between each of us and stifled a yawn. “Let’s get ready for breakfast then,” she said. “Then we can have that talk, Thorax.”

My earfins flicked. “The one about the folder?”

“And everything inside it as well,” she quipped playfully. “Why don’t you take that little troublemaker on one of your little adventures while we get ready? Say, thirty minutes to sneak into the kitchen and get her oatmeal ready?”

I smiled. This, at least, was familiar. This, I could do.

It might surprise Princess Twilight, Spike, and their friends in Ponyville that my overlady could be quite stealthy and silent when the situation called for it. Not that I don’t understand and sympathize—if you are reading this at some point in time later in your life, Flurry, please understand that you could be quite … well, let us just say you knew how to get attention—but she took our sneaking very seriously.

Especially with her parents’ blessing.

Even more especially when it meant a trip to the kitchens.

Who could possibly blame her, though? The sights of cooks bustling around, the sounds of stoves burning, water boiling, and steam hissing, the lovely scent of bread in the oven, and of course the ever-elusive cookie jar.

One day, we shall find it. Princess Cadence’s hiding spot would be found someday. Then, we would taste paradise.*

Until then, however, oatmeal was our goal. Along with a bit of cinnamon if I could filch it before a certain baker needed it for whatever treat she’d deliver for tea. Something to give Princess Cadence a much-needed pick-me-up during the day, or so she claimed.

My right hoof stung in phantom pain from a well-placed wooden spoon across my wrist the last time I’d attempted to sneak a taste for myself.

As one of the cooks went scurrying into the kitchen with a stack of plates balanced precariously upon her back and Flurry and I slipped through the open door behind her, I wondered if Cinnamon Swirl might be a distant relative of A la Carte. Very distant.

Then again, there are plenty of examples of ponies of differing sorts within the same family, so perhaps I shouldn’t assume so much.

Anyway. Our mission. A most critical endeavor, quite possibly the most critical of all.

A lack of proper nutrition, after all, could stunt poor Flurry’s growth. If she could not count on her favored changeling to ensure that she eat properly (with snacks snuck here and there to ensure she learn proper sneaking techniques)**, well, then what good even was I?

Flurry and I worked together flawlessly. I would creep along low to the ground, my hooves so silent I should be the envy of every mouse who ever tried to sneak through an alley full of cats. I widened my eyes to their fullest so I could take in every detail of my surroundings, swiveling my head this way and that to ensure I knew where each cook or staffpony was before I made a move. For her part, Flurry ensured none were able to counter-sneak up on us by minding my flank.

The strategic one, I mean. Shining insisted I clarify that once he finished cleaning up the soda he spat out as I read aloud. I suppose I can understand why, though I did note this is more a function of pony anatomy and military terminology being rather annoyingly similar.

He then strenuously insisted I should move on.

I poked my head around the corner and quickly withdrew it as I saw her pacing between the different stations. Her coat was unmistakable, tan flecked with splotches of chestnut brown, the same as her mane. Keen eyes the very color of verdant leaves surveyed each dish and her nostrils flared to take in the scents as if that alone would reveal what was amiss.

Cinnamon Swirl’s tail flicked and brow furrowed, I could tell in that instant there was no doubt whatever she’d seen or scented had indeed revealed some grave error. And her rigid posture as she strode off to find the offender only served to confirm it.

A pity for whomever had drawn her ire, but they had probably earned it. Cinnamon Swirl was nothing if not fair.

Plus, it made the task of creeping over to the cupboard to retrieve oats and cinnamon (ha!) from the top shelf, then snatching a bowl from the nearby rack, a pan from its spot hanging from one of the hooks over the stove, and finally slinking over to the cooler to get the milk jug. I set my ill-gotten gains and Flurry down upon the counter so I could prepare her meal.

Worry not, Small Pony Book, I made certain to place her well away from the stove, though I’m certain someday she will appreciate your concern. Also, Flurry has had the misfortune of learning the “do not touch hot things” lesson previously, and remembers it well enough to keep an eye upon the burner I switched on as if she feared it might lunge at her.

I’m almost certain burners can’t do that, but that doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate the way she whined and ruffled her feathers like she wishes to drag me away from it when I began preparing her meal. Never mind the fact that she can quite easily do so with magic.

I hadn’t prepared oatmeal for Flurry since that unfortunate encounter in my first entry, but the steps were not lost to me. They were simple enough—pour a small, but reasonable amount of oats into the pan, add milk, place pan upon hot stove, stir or swirl a bit with that nimble wrist-flicking motion I’d seen Cinnamon, Shining, and Cadence perform, then remove and transfer to the bowl when ready, and, finally, add cinnamon for flavor.

Hopefully, this time wouldn’t end up splattered all over my faceplate.

The milk gurgled as tiny bubbles began to form. I could smell the scent of oats and milk filling the air, and allowed myself a little smile. After another minute, I took the pan by the handle and removed it from the burner—earning a happy croon and relaxing of feathers from my rather relieved overlady—so I could dump it all into the bowl and finish up with a liberal sprinkling of cinnamon.

This was the one point where I had to resist and refute Flurry’s attempts to garner more. As well as that where her grasp of stealth always failed. She squealed and flapped her wings, kicked her hind hooves as she clapped and called, “More cinna! Tora, more cinna!”

I stopped shaking right about the point her mother always did—in short, not nearly enough for her liking. “No, Flurry, this is enough,” I refused.

Flurry puffed her cheeks. “Yes, more!” Sparks of baby blue flickered around her horn. She was trying to cast.

It was time to move before she accidentally blew something up.

I deftly moved the cinnamon just out of sight and placed Flurry upon my back again. Then, I levitated the bowl of oatmeal and a spoon into view so her attention might be occupied elsewhere. Cinnamon could take my failure to replace the cinnamon back into the pantry as ordered “countless times” (I count four, but who am I to question how high she can reach) up with me at a later time.

I thought we’d succeeded. I thought, this time, that I’d managed to enter the fearsome cook’s dominion and escape undetected despite my overlady’s jubilant cries.

Then, just as I made to slink through the doorway to complete our mission, I heard that familiar ahem from just over my shoulder. My earfins twitched and splayed.

Flurry confirmed my fears with a delighted giggle and call of, “Cinna Swir! Cinna Swir!”

Crack my carapace, Small Pony Book, I literally had a hoof out the door!

I affixed a wooden smile to my face, a touch too wide to be a pony’s, upon reflection, and turned slowly to face my doom.

That my smile nearly faltered when I took note of the stern green eyes boring into my very soul, unfaltering even in the face of Flurry Heart’s demand for a hug, meant nothing. I held strong, even my hind hooves itched to take a step or two back.

“Good morning, Cinnamon Swirl,” I greeted politely.

“Don’t you ‘good morning, Cinnamon Swirl’ me, Thorax,” she huffed. Her tail flicked through the air with a sharp snap. “I’ve told you to ask countless times, but you still insist on sneaking in!”

See? Countless times. I count twenty-seven. That is, by definition, not countless.

Besides, I had every reason to sneak this time. So, my too-wide-to-possibly-be-pony smile broadened to show the rest of my teeth, an act which drew just a hint of a wince. Unsettling to ponies, that much I knew, but I had not been told not to smile so as Shining Armor ordered me not to turn my head.

“I insisted upon nothing this time,” I corrected. “My sneaking comes as a result of orders from Princess Cadence herself. Her Highness tasked Flurry and I with a secret mission to sneak into your kitchen and make oatmeal.” With a meaningful nod to the bowl, I added, “My efforts were not in vain.”

A dissatisfied grumble rolled in the back of her throat. Again, Cinnamon flicked her tail, but she knew as well as I that Princess Cadence’s word superseded all.

Cinnamon Swirl blew a frustrated breath through her nose. “From now on, check in with me so you don’t run into somepony on my staff and cause a mess.”

Acceptable. I nodded once. “I shall, but I shall still sneak otherwise.”

“Fine. Whatever.” She turned and made to trot away, pausing just long enough to turn over her shoulder to nuzzle Flurry and give a little croon. “Oh, and after you feed this little cutie, you can come back and clean up your mess. And wash those dishes you used.”

My smile vanished as she fixed me with a decidedly smug smirk and flicked her tail across my nose. As she sauntered over to deal with the rest of her subjects, I aimed a challenging glare at the back of her head.

Changelings did not wash dishes!

The very nerve. I would do no such thing. Never.***

I made sure to blow a raspberry as only a changeling could—the full length of my forked, serpentine tongue came quite in handy.

That I waited until I was well out of earshot is irrelevant and I’ll thank you not to comment on it.

It is to my unending delight that I can report my overlady did not see fit to bathe me in hot oatmeal this morning.

No, she must have found my carapace quite well-polished (how nice of her to notice) and deign that I had done a suitable job cleaning myself this morning. Or she was simply too happy to make a mess of herself in her zeal to consume all of her delicious cinnamon-oatmeal as fast as she could.

Honestly, I think it’s the latter, but I will withhold judgement until she decides to voice her thoughts in plain Equish.

Until then, I would just guess. And by my guess and the untold amount of oatmeal now covering her face and belly—no, seriously, I swear I didn’t make that much—she quite enjoyed her meal, even as I busied myself cleaning her. She giggled and hugged my hoof, dirtying my chitinous limb and spreading oatmeal even into my leg holes.

It was that sight which greeted my hosts and Sunburst entered the dining room together, with Princess Cadence all but prancing in the lead.

Gone was the visage of sleepy mare with mussed coat and disheveled mane, making way for the beautiful Princess of Love in all her radiance. With a smile as warm as midsummer and sweet as those snickerdoodle cookies I’d shared with Princess Luna, she planted a kiss upon Flurry’s oatmeal spattered snout and brushed it away before turning to beam at me. She wrapped a hoof around my shoulders, pressing her cheek to mine in such a familiar manner I cannot deny the heat which rose in my face or that treacherous thought from dinner the night prior.

“Thank you, Thorax. You’re a big help as always.”

I gave my wings a happy buzzing trill. Such praise for following orders properly stirred a swell of pride within my breast.

Such praise was quite rare previously. It is most gratifying to know I can perform my duties adequately enough for my rulers. Enough so that Shining gave my headfin what he called a “tussel”.

Sunburst, meanwhile, just laughed as he took stock of Flurry. “And it looks like I’ll be giving this little one her first bath of the day.” He aimed a wry smirk my way, full of good-natured teasing. “You can sneak through a castle, but somehow you leave me to clean up the mess?”

I adopted my most innocent smile and tilted my head. “I was not ordered to keep her clean. Elsewise, I would have.”

“Mmm, convenient.” His horn flashed a shimmering gold as he reached out with a tendril of magic to gently lift the giggling, babbling babe from her high chair and earn himself a sudden case of Flurry-latching-onto-face. Sunburst snorted and trotted out of the dining room.

And at that moment, Cinnamon Swirl and a younger mare by the name of Orange Blossom entered, each floating trays and metal top out, and set them atop the table for each of us.

Cinnamon’s eyes met mine for an instant, she raised her brows meaningfully, then turned to give a nod to Princess Cadence. Receiving her reply and an affirming hum, the master of the kitchens swept away with her young apprentice and left us alone.

We each took our regular seats and began to eat. Cinnamon had apparently decided today was a sliced fruits and a crepes.

I licked my lips. I rather love crepes. They are sweet, fruity, and are most certainly comprised of sugar and love and nothing more.

Fortunately, my hosts did not seem to mind the vigor with which I set upon my delicious, creamy bounty. The taste of fresh strawberries only served to further my delight, even as the cool juice dribbled down my chin.

A little cough and raise of one of Princess Cadence’s brows was all the prompting needed to remind me that, though they were generous enough to tolerate me “wolfing” my food down, such things like letting it make a mess all over my face were considered quite rude in pony society.

Napkins are quite useful in the art of lowering that brow, Small Pony Book. And cleaning messes as well.

“How did you sleep?” Princess Cadence asked me suddenly.

I blinked. “I do not recall dreaming. I barely even remember when I actually fell asleep.” After a second, I ducked my head. Heat filled my cheeks once more. “I’m sorry I fell asleep against you last night.”

“No need to apologize, Thorax. I didn’t mind at all.” Her smile chased away my doubts in an instant. Such was her magic. “I’m just glad you felt comfortable enough to talk with us afterward, even though it was hard on you.”

Hard, perhaps, was not the word to describe how I felt. But I was hardly one to correct her on something so trivial.

“In any case,” Shining took up her cause, “it’s … well, what you went through isn’t fine. But what you’re dealing with now as we work through it is.”

“That makes no sense,” I said simply.

“How doesn’t it?”

“How can it be not fine that I was abused but fine that I’m hurting and de—” the way his jaw set as I began to say the word forced me to alter course ”—unwell?”

Shining idly raised a coffee mug and let it hover a few inches off the table. “You’ve faced things as they’ve come and as you’ve been ready, and you’ve been receptive of our advice to stop selling yourself short or demeaning yourself.” He paused to take a sip. “To a degree.”

My heart sank. “My lack of progress has displeased you then?” I asked.

“That’s … not at all how I meant that, but I can see why you might take it that way.” He frowned, setting his mug down on the table as he folded his hooves. “Thorax, can I tell you something I’ve noticed about the way you think?”

“I do not see why that is relevant, but if you think it is.”

“It’s entirely relevant. Because as odd as some of your logical progressions are and as odd as those Cady and I go through might seem to you, there’s a meeting point or two. A bit of a root of things.” Shining’s smile slowly returned. “How about we demonstrate with a couple questions? Like your learning days.”

That seemed very unlikely. Impossible, even.

Then again, my living situation did as well a few short months prior. I nodded despite my uncertainty, eager to hear just what he knew that I had missed.

“Do you have siblings?”

“My brother Pharynx, yes. He is … like mother in his temperament, though not quite as interested in conquest.”

“He would hit you then? Following her example?”

I fidgeted in place, a keening groan crept from the back of my throat. But all the same, I nodded again.

Princess Cadence seemed quite displeased at the news that he’d hit me, but it was she who asked, “And if he found something attacking you? What might Pharynx do?”

Several memories came to mind. All quite graphic, all very gruesome. Pharynx snarling, his fangs dripping with blood and venom, his eyes glowing green and chest heaving as he stood over a molebear that had cornered me. Another, Pharynx standing over a pair of gryphon warriors, their heads turned in unnatural ways. Another still. A siren, of all things, dead at his hooves. Her throat torn out and still in his mouth.

The way he would turn and spit out their blood as if it wasn’t worth being savored, then how slowly he would approach and tilt my chin up with his hoof so he could look into my eyes. That little nod and breath he would always release, and just the slightest hint of warmth in his smile.

Right before he smacked me for being weak and dragged me over to feed on their love before it flickered out.

“Terrible things,” I admitted. “He did terrible things when I was in danger. Even our fellow changelings weren’t safe—he’d throw them around like they weighed nothing.”

They hummed in thought. Then, Princess Cadence actually chuckled to herself. “You know, Twilight nearly did the same to me during the wedding.”

What? I drew back. This was … simply implausible. Princess Twilight loved them both. Small Pony Book, please don’t take this as an insult, but you simply don’t understand how much I could taste it.

The only loves stronger was that shared between my hosts, that they held for Flurry Heart, and the Sisters’ for their subjects.

Bar none.

“She thought I was your mother,” she continued. “She attacked me, ready to hurt me beyond belief for what she thought I’d done before I proved who I really was. But in that moment, she shared something with Pharynx.”

Perhaps.

But perhaps not. Princess Twilight was not like Pharynx.

I love my brother, but I cannot deny who he is.

“Now what about you?” Shining continued.

“Me?” I tilted my head.

“You. What is it you want? What is it that drives you?”

He knew the dream. Shining had read it and made it quite clear that I had his full support, and alluded to having some way to see it through.

But what drove me personally? That was …

A surprisingly simple answer.

I rubbed my shin and squirmed in my seat. “To not be hungry all the time,” I admitted. “To go to bed somewhere warm and know I’m with someone who cares. To have friends who care how I feel and want to be with me for me, and want to be with them.”

It all seemed simple. All I wanted was the life my hosts had together. The same Princess Twilight and Spike had with their friends.

Maybe without the world saving, though.

“And perhaps a friend who might be willing to let you feed?” Princess Cadence supplied in her playful drawl.

“It … would be rather helpful to the relationship.”

“Yes, it probably would.” His smile only broadened. “Thorax, you realize basically just said you want the same sort of things everypony does.”

I raised a hoof and countered, “But I also want to eat love and ponies do not.”

“True, but there’s something else.” Shining arched a brow. “Thorax, think of someone hurting Flurry.”

Something within me just … broke. That is the best description I have.

There was no thought. There was no reason. I don’t recall exactly when I rose or let my face change, when my fangs lengthened to their fullest or eyes glowed like burning emerald fire as my face narrowed to that ghoulish, venom dripping look which so haunted ponies’ nightmares.

I don’t remember thinking to do it.

I didn’t realize I had until I hissed and vowed, “No.”

The look in Shining’s eyes told of knowing and a hint of something else. I could taste conflicting feelings. Pride and remorse.

Why though?

“Exactly. And between you and me, yeah.” A flicker of pink sparked at the tip of his horn. “There wouldn’t be much I wouldn’t break to protect my own.”

Princess Cadence coughed into her hoof. “I think we’re getting a bit off track, honey.”

“Right, right. Sorry.” He gave a sheepish smile. “Anyway, do you see kind of what I’m getting at here? You’re different, but you’re not nearly as far away as some might have thought. Even us at first.”

There was some truth to that, I must admit. The swell of rage I felt at the mere thought of harm coming to Flurry, or any of them for that matter, was reminiscent of what she had tried to engrain in each of us toward ponies. Perhaps more apt would be to say it was the same I’d always seen in my brother.

By the First Mother, my stomach churned at the thought. I in my brother’s place, Flurry in mine. Even without the subsequent strike to the back of the head or feast of love, I just couldn’t imagine letting her see me in such a rage.

Oh. And yes. There was more than a little truth about what I so wanted.

It just tended to be a little difficult to admit sometimes, even if they and Princess Luna said it wasn’t so foolish or out of sight.

“It’s probably something I could infer, but I think it best I ask.” Princess Cadence’s horn flashed, that manilla folder popped into existence again, “How often did you spend time with nymphs your age? Outside of whatever education or training you had.”

The way I winced betrayed me. I did everything I possibly could to avoid my peers. Not to say I did not care for them at all, but they could be rather aggressive and combative. Especially after training.

Education? Training was our education. We needed no other informative structure.

She nodded and sighed. “I see. Unfortunately, that’s about what we thought.” The sound of tinkling bells filled the air, Princess Cadence opened the manilla folder to reveal a small stack of papers and began to rifle through them.

I recognized some immediately. Those little quizzes she had me take, a few written notes she’d scribbled down during my lessons or about some of my notions of how things worked—I noted a rather fond smile when she came across “Thorax was told today putting Flurry down for her nap didn’t mean cocooning and hanging her from the ceiling, no matter how she giggles.”

“Do you remember why I said I wanted to test you, Thorax?” she asked.

“You wished to know what I did and didn’t,” I replied easily. “And also wished to understand how I saw things compared to how you all did.”

“Exactly.” Her eyes softened. “In your last entry, you mentioned you were about fourteen. Is that right?”

A simple enough question. “Yes.” If not for the nature of our species and theirs, I might have felt proud as I added, “Hunting and tricking since nine.”

Here, Shining spoke up again, “Please understand, this isn’t a shot at you personally, because this is something well out of your control. You’re bright in a lot of things—really on the nose with things like math and certain things in chemistry or biology.”

“I do not know much history at all,” I admitted with a rueful smile.

That earned a laugh from each. “Yes, well, we don’t know changeling history either, so it’s not like we could expect that. Buddy,” Shining teased. “But yes, you’re lagging in others compared to foals your age. Especially in the more social aspects.”

“And there’s some things we can’t teach or provide to you, because of the time it would take and, well …” The little shrug Princess Cadence gave was like she’d been caught trying to pass off sub par work. “I can tell you what you can and can’t do when socializing, but that doesn’t help you actually interact beyond those specific rules when the time comes. Do you understand?”

Blinking, I tilted my head to the opposite side, but I remembered not to rotate all the way. See? They teach very well.

“I honestly couldn’t begin to understand what that means, Princess.”

Again, she laughed. “Yeah, it’s not a logical thing at all when you try to actually put it to words. But it and some of these knowledge gaps have led us to consider something a bit more logical.”

She shifted her notes and my quizzes to the side to reveal a new form. It looked less like my hosts’s notes and more like official forms. I saw signatures, dates, initials, and a few empty spots where a name and another signature were meant to go. But I found myself drawn more to the words in big bold lettering written across the very top:

“What do schools have to admit besides that they teach?” I asked.

“Wrong sort of admit, buddy,” Shining said.

“Ah.” That was silly of me. I knew that one. “This is a form ponies fill out so they may go to school then?”

“Well, yes,” he replied. His ear flicked, he began to trace a slow circle upon the tabletop. “But we talked to the administrators and a few teachers, and we were thinking it might be filled out to admit a changeling nymph this time.”

I confess, the point sailed straight over my headfin, as evident in how I asked, “Which one?”

They stared.

The wheels in my head began to turn slowly. And with each turn as comprehension began to dawn upon me, my slime glands began to fill my mouth, ready to subdue the threat.

Logically, yes, I was quite aware spitting slime on the form would do nothing but earn a lecture.

“Why?” I cursed the way my voice broke.

“We can’t teach you everything,” Princess Cadence repeated. “And, frankly, if you want to ever have more friends like us, Twilight, Spike, and the others, friends more your age, you’re going to have to get out of the castle and socialize.” She rustled her wings, I could taste both resolve and just a hint of nerves. “Who knows? You might even get some pretty filly or handsome colt who thinks you’re cute, too.”

With a snort, Shining gave her a little nudge. “Putting the cart before the pony a bit, honey. Let the poor colt at least make some friends before you play matchmaker.”

She mumbled something I couldn’t quite catch under her breath. Whatever it was, it made Shining laugh and kiss her cheek.

“In any case,” Shining continued, “this is something we’ve sort of been thinking about in regard to your education for some time. And that note about your dream, I meant it when I said I thought I had a way to see it happen.” He nodded toward that wicked form. “This is our suggestion.”

Their suggestion?

Every instinct, every bit of changeling heritage hissed and spat in outrage. By every account, this wasn’t a suggestion.

It was a fool’s errand.

A changeling didn’t simply go somewhere out of their disguise. Part of the reason I begged so much that I be allowed to maintain my Crystal Hoof disguise was to spare myself the heartache and pain my mother swore we would each suffer should we ever try to seek companionship with ponies.

And yet, there were a few which sprang to mind. And more who, despite the nerves I tasted as I first passed them by, showed up to a party and were kind enough to me.

The entirety of a little town nestled between the Valley of Mount Canterhorn and the shadow of the Everfree Forest. At the forefront, seven smiling mares, a bunch of beaming foals headed by those mischievous fillies, and Spike.

Spike.

Spike and I had our issues once. But he did not bring heartache and pain alone. He brought sincerity and caring from his world to mine, and convinced others to offer the same.

My mother had been wrong.

The same mother who abused me and vowed that ponies could never accept us, and that they were beneath us to even bother caring for other than food or idle amusement.

I swallowed that mouthful of slime and rose. “I would like to think about this,” I muttered.

They smiled, but I could taste the bitter regret in their hearts. They’d seen how it tormented me.

Curse my failure at hiding.

“Take a couple days, buddy,” Shining replied softly. “I won’t rush you, but the school doesn’t want you to dally too long in case you get too far behind.”

“At very least, thank you for listening and being brave for us again.” Princess Cadence rose and moved around the table to give me a gentle hug and nuzzled my headfin. “I think, after so much bravery, my favorite changeling is due for a meal of love today. Lunch on me for a smile?” she offered.

I managed an admittedly weak smile, my nerves and warring instincts and desires warred with one another. The promise of love was a lovely gesture.

But it did not distract me quite well enough. Though, I did lean into her embrace to show my appreciation and affection.

Before I could leave, however, Princess Cadence’s ears twitched and she raised a hoof. “I just remembered, Cinnamon mentioned something about a little mess you’d left in her kitchen?” she asked, her brow arching.

My ears splayed. “Just a small one.”

“Well, before you go off to think, you can go down and give her a hoof cleaning it up. And she’d like me to remind you that she’s the one who decides how food will taste when it reaches your tongue, so blowing a raspberry at her before you eat is quite unwise.” With a wink, she added, “But far be it from me to interrupt the games you two play.”

I could only curse in old changeling and make my way to the kitchen. A changeling cleaning dishes. Nonsense.

I might just let Pharynx hit me if he ever learned of this.

* I shall see you try. - Cadence.

** You’re teaching her what? Excuse me, young colt, you might have a high tolerance for sugar, but if you get Flurry hopped up on sweets, I’ll make sure you’re the one who deals with her through the night. And I’ll make sure Auntie Tia and Auntie Luna know you’re stealing their right to spoil their great-niece!

*** Never? Huh, that’s funny. Seemed a lot like nine-thirty this morning to me, buddy. Cinnamon even told me if you made a habit of cleaning things like that, she’d have to demand a changeling dishwasher when we discussed her contract renewal. - Shining.

Author's Notes:

I've waited ages to finally get this one out. If you wanna chip in a bit for Patreon, my page can be found here!

If you're curious about joining a hive of ... well, assorted changeling lovers, ship lovers, and an alpaca (look, he showed up and floofed the place, my hands are tied), shoot me a PM and I'll drop you a link.

19. What I Want

Dear Small Pony Book,

I am afraid I can offer no real apology for my absence of late. I know it has been a couple weeks. Nearly a month, actually. But I should think it acceptable given the … weight? Gravity?

Gravity, yes. I like that word and how it sums up the situation. I like gravity.

You know. Until it tries to bring me down.

Anyway.

The gravity of the situation was not lost upon me, even though I am nowhere near the smartest changeling in the hive. And it was that situation which has plagued my mind since that morning. Since my hosts told me they felt it beneficial to my development both in terms of intellect and social life to attend a pony school in my natural form.

I trust I need not go into too much of an explanation as to why the mere thought made my instincts shriek in terror and demand that I run and run far and fast until the glittering tips of the Crystal Palace were naught but pinpricks fading in the distance. Just … consider, if you will, for a moment what it might be like if you were among some kind that feared and likely hated you. And not among those in Ponyville who either accepted you on word of their heroines or held you at length with a bit of unease worn plain upon their features.

And remember that you were raised knowing that ponies would consider you a monster the instant they saw your face, but now you were asked to—

Er.

Forgive me.

I had a bit of an episode as I wrote that. Unfortunately, it seems that while my dreams are—as Princess Luna and Shining Armor said—lovely and fanciful and a wonderful thing to imagine and fight for, considering the actual notion of … er … you know.

It’s enough to render even a fool of a changeling such as myself a panicked mess. One of our few natural fears save for an enraged dragon, a kirin, or the bat ponies’ hunts.

It is that fear which has gripped my heart and mind every waking moment since, as well as having crept its way into my dreams. Not to mention, it sent me searching for somewhere to hide and retreat into the shadows high in the rafters and archways of the Crystal Palace to find some sense of familiarity in my surroundings.

Being hidden is natural and good for a changeling. Being the center of attention, stuck in the middle of a crowd of ponies is, most certainly, not.

So that is why you and I are currently hanging upside down from the ceiling right above the archway, in case you were wondering. I do not think this will be too much of a problem, as I am quite versed in drawing and writing in this position. Pharynx made certain of that, as it made scouting easier.

And, as said, it is a familiar position. One of comfort, oddly enough.

I could stay up here all day and barely move, no one would notice unless I didn’t show up for dinner. The perfect way to mull over my options.

I could hardly say no. My hosts had clearly put a lot of time, thought, and effort into this. And not just they. I was quite certain they’d enlisted Princess Twilight, given that I could rather distinctly recall seeing that accursed folder on the train to Ponyville and on her table. It would be rude and ungrateful, what with all they’ve done for me since Spike brought me out of my cave.

Yet …

I had to rest you on the arch for a moment, I hope it wasn’t too cold. I did not want to drop you when I felt my hooves beginning to tremble. Thank you for your patience once more. You are ever the excellent listener, my silent friend.

I love my hosts. I love them so much.

That, I feel, is important to note before I say that they simply don’t understand about us. About me.

Truly, I feel terrible for saying such, as it’s not at all their fault. They’re trying. They’ve been trying harder than most ponies would. Still, they don’t understand what they’ve asked me to do here.

What going to school as myself would entail.

Just what sort of reactions would that garner, I wondered? Would they be like the foals in Ponyville? Curious, eager to surround and appraise me, and full of wonder? Or perhaps like the adults, who watched me from afar with plastic smiles and ears perked to listen out for any terrified shrieks of their town’s young which were sure to come.

Or would they hide beneath their desks, quivering in terror? Or might they simply run screaming?

All possibilities. All too likely. Frankly, I was fortunate in Ponyville and in my interactions with the staffponies at Canterlot Castle. In reality, they should have been horrified at my presence.

More importantly, I remembered the fear which swept through the city when they learned of my presence.

The First Mother knows how much trouble that was.

And how much it would trouble me now.

Just how might it feel, I wonder, to be rejected and forced to flee back to the comfort of the palace? Rejected by a bunch of ponies my age?

Do you hear the sound of tiny wings flapping or is that just me?

“Tora!” Tiny hooves wrapped around the back of my neck before I could turn and swivel my head about. Flurry Heart giggled and squealed, clinging to me as she hung and kicked her little hooves as she flapped to keep herself aloft. “Hang with! Hang with, Tora!”

I had been discovered by my overlady, in case that had not been made clear. So, now, I sit here with her showing me how to properly rule over her domain of tiny plush ponies as I write what transpired while we hung from my hiding place.

That she was even able to locate me came as quite the surprise. Her parents had failed in that endeavor for weeks, mostly because they did not think to check the ceilings or within the actual branches of trees outside.

They underestimated my sneakiness.

Yet my overlady knew me well. Or, rather, the way she looked about at random because of her lack of any real attention span served her well in finding anything, no matter whether or not she should find it.

Like hot oatmeal.

I set you down upon the arch once more and caught Flurry around the waist before she could slip and fall, then tugged her up to sit upon my belly. “You do like hanging with me, don’t you?” I asked with the tiniest of smiles. Who ever could resist that face?

She giggled and leaned forward to plant a sloppy kiss on my nose. “Yes, hang! Hand ‘n hide, Tora!”

Indeed, my overlady knows me well.

Sighing fondly, I ran a hoof through her lovely, bouncy mane and drew in a little sip from the endless fount of love residing in the little filly. She giggled and squealed, delighting in the tingling sensations the filled her chest and squirming belly.

It’s almost funny how she’s come to enjoy the feeling. Were I to feed upon a normal pony as I have her or her parents, I would have left them utterly exhausted, barely able to move a muscle. A little sip like this, though, would’ve been fine, but that the Royal Family had grown so accustomed to it that they likened it to tickling was quite surreal.

Especially knowing what happened to those who were drained dry.

They loved me so. She loved me.

Me.

Not Crystal Hoof or any of my old disguises. Their love was for me. Thorax.

For that, I must count myself lucky.

I closed my eyes and let my smile falter. Days spent fretting, worrying over all the possible ways this school idea could go wrong weighed heavy upon my mind. Enough to persist through even the sweet taste of cotton candy, caramel, and bubbly foalish laughter Flurry’s love always brought.

“What do I do, Flurry?” I asked softly, hugging the filly close to my chest. “Everything I know tells me this won’t end well—this can’t end well.”

Alas, wise though she was, Flurry held no answers for me on the matter. Though, she did consider that gravity I’d mentioned with a solemn frown which displayed a sense of magnanimous contemplation beyond her years.

Then, she mushed my cheeks with her hooves and blew a raspberry, giggling at how my face must have looked.

Truly, she would be a wonderful leader someday, just like her parents. For she, like they, did not simply give me the answer I desired. She did not tell me the way things were or were to be, as my mother would have.

I would have to fret just a bit more before the answer would come to me. That way, it would be my decision and mine alone.

I subtly shifted my facial structure to allow my overlady to smush and mould it as she saw fit, drawing a sudden gasp of wonder as she set to work exploring the new game I, her favorite changeling, had given.

Anything to make her smile.

Yes. That was what I wanted.

Not just her.

Someone to see my face—my real face—and my smile, and be willing to come close all on their own and sit with me. And hug me.

And smile back.

I had my hosts, of course. But changelings are greedy, Small Pony Book. We’re always hungry.

We always long for more.

I, too, long for more love.

I, like any changeling, like any pony, long for someone to be at my side.

Sadly, I don’t see how that or my dream will ever be feasible. No matter how lovely either might be.

It will remain in my dreams. Where it belongs.

Where I shall cherish it as my own treasure.

20. A Dicey Roll

Dear Small Pony Book,

I am about to do something foolish. Something no changeling would ever think themselves brave enough, stupid enough to attempt.

Well. Dumber than being seen in natural form by ponies, let alone two one’s, er, mother held designs against. My apologies, that … was difficult to write. Difficult to think.

Thinking of her.

Anyway, I have kept you waiting long enough. Quite long enough. I write to you, as always, at the end of my day. I can still feel my knees shaking, my shoulders tensing as though I should be prepared to flee out the window and back to the safety of the hive—for a given value of the word “safety” as I’m sure my hosts would say. The though has occurred to me, but it is consistently blocked by … others.

This morning, I was awakened by Flurry Heart, as was my usual routine. But something felt a bit different in how she leapt from her crib and pounced me.

For instance, she did not immediately demand that I pick her up and engage in tickles. Rather, my overlady seemed content to squeal and babble until I woke, then hugged me around my chest, nuzzling almost like a little nymph in disguise might to coax some extra love from an unwary pony. Her little wings fluttered and traced against my carapace in a most adorable manner.

Perhaps I should have taken note that she was less playful and commanding as per the norm, and more like a hungry nymph—clingy, I believe is the word I have heard some of the palace staff giggle behind their hooves after one of her hugs. That, I believe, should have been my hint that she knew I was going to do something so foolish, so simple-minded, that any changeling, yes, even those who had been more foolish than me over our history, might trip over themselves in shock.

Then, she sat upon my belly for a moment and looked me in the eye. Almost as though she wished to see if what had so troubled me yesterday still haunted her favored changeling this morning.

Flurry Heart then let out a little crooning sound from the back of her throat, a frown marring her little face as she leaned in and pressed her nose against mine. Perhaps, I realized, I had underestimated Flurry Heart’s capacity for understanding.

“Tora, sad?” she asked.

I gave a bit of a weak smile. “Tora scared,” I admitted.

Her frown deepened. “No scare, Tora. Home in bed! No—” I shan’t try to spell out the babble which followed, but I could only assume it to be some sort of terrible monster.

A moment of consideration allowed me to understand. Don’t be scared, Thorax. You’re home in bed. There are no monsters here.

I opted against a reminder that some ponies might consider me the monster in her bedroom. I don’t think she would have appreciated that, nor would she have understood the nuance.

“No, there’s no monsters in the bedroom,” I said, laughing just a little with her. How I came to deserve service under such a caring overlady, I don’t understand. I could smell the love on her, strong and full. And sweet.

Almost as though she wished me to have a snack to make me feel better, and knew her love would sate me.

Indeed, I had underestimated her.

A foolish changeling am I.

However, I did not feed upon her, no matter how sweet and tasty her love might be, her mother had not granted me permission and I could hardly claim foalish babble and hugging to be consent. Besides, I was quite content to let her try to chase my worries away.

If only.

Sighing, I let my head rest against my pillow. “What do I do, Flurry?” I asked. I must have sounded piteous, even to her. “Shining Armor and Princess Cadence wish for me to try to befriend ponies, to try and have what they seem to think is a more normal life. But that is not changeling way—nothing they’ve taught me is, but that most especially is against everything I know.”

Flurry tilted her head at me a moment. I dared think she would suddenly gain the power of speech and great insight, and impart me with some sort of great knowledge or snippet of sentiment.

Instead, she reached out and pressed her hoof against my nose, giggling at how my eyes crossed.

I couldn’t help but smile. “Boop?”

“Boop Tora!” she chimed.

Boop Tora, indeed, Small Pony Book. I was lucky to have my home, my hosts, my friend—well, friends. Princess—er, just Twilight. Twilight was rather pleased to inform me that I am counted as a friend in her mind, so I suppose that does mean I have several. She had said so quiet earnestly, and made a point to add it as her own note (I read it sometimes, it is a nice note).

Spike, my hosts, Sunburst, Twilight, Starlight, Pinkie Pie and her cupcakes, Rainbow Dash, Applejack, Fluttershy, Rarity, those troublemaking fillies, and their fellow foals back in Ponyville.

I froze in place.

Under my breath, I murmured, “That is more than several.”

You may think it silly, I certainly do. But I hadn’t realized there were so many. And were there more? Did Princess Celestia and Princess Luna count? The former seemed delighted to join Flurry and I in sneaking around her own castle—truly, the silliest of pony things—and the latter made it a point to discuss my dreams and wishes, and fed me those delicious cookies.

Apologies. My mouth waters at the mere thought.

But so many ponies had been friendly. Some held me at length, mostly the adults in Ponyville, but I couldn’t exactly blame them. Other than that, none really knew me for who I am save those here at home.

Home.

Yes, this is my home. And I have been home, never leaving, for months. Not without my Crystal Hoof disguise.

Afraid.

I am afraid. Of them.

That they might see me as what I am from what they’ve heard, not who I am, and reject me for it.

Just as I was when I met Spike, and just as had nearly been were it not for his intercession.

Without him, I did not have any of this.

Any of them.

I was scared then, too. Just as I am now. Just as I was when I wrapped my chitinous hooves around Flurry Heart and held her tight, burying my snout in her mane for just a moment.

No changeling would be so stupid.

None should, I told myself again and again as I carried a newly bathed and diapered Flurry Heart toward the dining room. My stubby tail flicked and twitched nervously, I could think of a thousand and one reasons I should refuse the offer.

All of them rooted in what I’d “known” before meeting my hosts.

And what I’d “known” before, I thought as I stepped through the open doorway leading into the dining hall and exchanged rather cordial greetings with a pair of guards, a pair of cousins from Merriedamme named Prim Dazzle and Prim Stride, was that I should not have been expecting smiles and nods when they let me pass. I should have been pinned on the ground, with their spears at my neck, while they tried to get their young princess away from me.

Instead, I was looked upon as a friend and counted as one they should admit and protect.

Nonsense, I could almost hear my elders hiss. No pony would think to lend a hoof to a changeling. They are weak, anyway, and foolish. You are strong and wily, they will never see through our masquerade.

And yet they had.

On all counts.

My hosts stood by the table, chatting idly with one another while they awaited us. Shining caught my eye first, smiling brightly as he trotted over to wrap his magic’s warm, bubbling glow around my charge and lift her into the air, relieving me of my burden so he might nose against her belly.

The effect was quite immediate. Flurry succumbed to a squeal of mirth and waved her tiny hooves about, unable to escape her father’s ministrations. She babbled and latched onto his snout, giggling as he sat back on his haunches and calmly set about prying her hooves free so he could place her in her seat. “Good morning, Thorax,” he said, idly engaging in a little battle of hoof-baps with my overlady as she tried to regain her hold. “How did you sleep?”

I hesitated. “I don’t think it was well,” I admitted slowly. “I just remember laying down and waking.”

Princess Cadence approached and nuzzled my cheek. “You’ve been thinking a lot lately,” she whispered. “How are you holding up?”

To be honest? I wasn’t certain how to answer.

It certainly wasn’t going well in my head. It certainly wouldn’t go well in practice.

At least, I didn’t see how it could.

My gaze fell to my hooves. I traced an arc in the crystalline floor and stared at the cloudy reflection of my own form.

They wanted me to go to a pony school looking like this?

How had they even convinced those in charge to allow it? Or had they just walked in and said it would be so, and thus it was?

No. Of course not. My hosts were far too kind and thoughtful toward others to make such demands so frivolously. They would have asked and made their case for my presence, just as they had asked me to consider it.

I swallowed a mouthful of slime. “What is it that I have to sign for me to go to school?” I asked, my voice strained and barely audible.

I found myself wrapped in an embrace both of hoof and powerful wing for quite some time afterward, the sweet delectable nectar of Princess Cadence’s love, joy, and pride had me filled well until dinner.

“Thank you for being brave,” she whispered in my ear, “and rolling the dice with us one more time.”