The Cobwebs Of Ignorance

by H123G

The Cold Heart of Reality

“An enemy generally says and believes what he wishes.”
--Thomas Jefferson

The Crusaders reclined on Zecora’s bed, each brandishing a cup of hot brewed tea in their hooves, complementary of their host. While it tasted horrible, Zecora was firm that they drank every drop. She said it would help ease their anxiety and help them relax. Whether or not it was working, they couldn’t tell, but they were inclined to heed their wise friend’s advice.

It sort of reminded them of getting a shot during Flu Vaccine Day at school. Not too pleasant, but Cheerilee says it's good for them.

As they drank the three youths listened as Zecora tended to Dead Ringer’s wounds in the other room.

“OW!”

Although from the sound of things she was more or less torturing him.

“Ouch! Careful!”

With a pair of pliers in her mouth Zecora struggled to remove the timberwolf bits that were embedded in the changeling’s face. ‘Struggled’ being an understatement as Dead Ringer’s incessant need to move and complain was making an already daunting task even more difficult.

Adjusting the tool in her mouth Zecora did her best to contain her anger as she muttered, “If splinters being roughly pulled is not your will. Then I suggest that you hold still!”

Despite her best efforts, Zecora was really beginning to lose her patience. She didn’t know what she found more irritating: Pulling timberwolf remains out piece by piece, or her patient’s constant need to fidget.

Either way, Zecora was having as much fun as Pinkie Pie would watching grass grow. While at a funeral for puppies.

After a long tedious session, the last chip of wood from the injured changeling’s face was out. Zecora dropped her pliers on a nearby table before heading to her boiling pot. Taking a rag she carefully dipped it into the brewing tub, making sure it soaked in all the herbal juices.

To keep the wounds clean she was going to have to disinfect them. When it comes to disinfecting wounds however, the cure was worse than the injury. Plus her injured ‘guest’ didn’t seem like the kind of creature who likes it when others cause him discomfort of any kind.

For the sake of health however, it had to be done.

The ones on Dead Ringer’s face were not too serious, so cleaning them would be a breeze. The problem however, is judging by the length of the damage on his leg, she was going to have to get the entire area. Also given the severity, she was going to have to get that part first.

With a heavy sigh she approached the quiet changeling, showing him the dripping rag. “I will be curt,” she warned softly to try and lay it on him gently. “This is going to hurt.”

Without so much as a glance Dead Ringer freely surrendered his injured foreleg. This came as a surprise to Zecora.

“Just do it,” he answered firmly, his attention never wavering. Although it sounded more like an order. “A hardened warrior like myself was trained to endure the worst of pain.”

Understanding, Zecora seated herself as she readied the rag. The second it touched one inch of his cut Dead Ringer reacted with an ear piercing shriek.

The sound roared out of the hut and into the forest, until it soon faded from ear and died out as quickly as it came.

In the other room the girls heard everything. Rolling her eyes Scootaloo turned to the others.

“Okay, who saw that one coming?”

Immediately everypony in the room raised their hooves.

Back in the main room a long silence had fallen as Dead Ringer took back his leg. He was cringing with pain as he breathed heavily. It was mix between him catching his breath from the shriek, and his building anger as he leered razor blades at Zecora.

Despite his unfriendly demeanor and disruptive behavior, Zecora surprisingly remained calm and cool. If he was looking for a fight she wasn’t going to give him one. Whoever this changeling was, he was very defensive, and Zecora had no intention on feeding his paranoia.

After a couple seconds past Dead Ringer’s breathing started to slow, signaling he was beginning to calm down.

Once she was sure he was as composed as he was going to get Zecora motioned if she could continue. She was in no means to rush him, but she still had to finish cleaning. Otherwise the stubborn changeling was risking a severe infection.

Dead Ringer meanwhile was mulling over if he should even allow her to touch the cuts on his face, let alone his leg again. Whatever she was using felt like acid; and smelled terrible.

The soldier within him was telling him to just take the risk and leave his cuts well enough alone. However, the survivor in him was saying he didn’t have a lot of options.

Plus she did warn him before she started. If she wanted to cause him harm, she wouldn’t have warned him to begin with, and she certainly didn’t seem like she was enjoying this. The lack of happiness he smelled off her was a given clue.

After some debate Dead Ringer relented with an audible sigh of defeat; if he could trust her to touch his wing earlier, than he could trust her one more time with his wounds. Sluggishly he relinquished his leg to his healer once more, giving her a curt nod that he was okay with her continuing.

With a gentle smile and thankful nod Zecora started over. Only this time when the sterile cloth touched Dead Ringer’s cut he only responded with small hisses of discomfort, doing his best to swallow the pain. Now that he knew what to expect it wasn’t as excruciating as the first time, but it still was quite uncomfortable.

The long shroud of silence was broken as the noise of a loud crash boomed from the other room where the crusaders reclined. Judging by the sound of the crash one of them must’ve accidentally dropped their cup. Although the argument that followed told another story.

“Scootaloo look what you did! Its all over Zecora’s rug!”

“It’s not my fault! Apple Bloom kicked me!”

“Because you were done sleepin’ on me!”

“I was not! I-I was just resting my eyes!”

“LIAR!”

Dead Ringer’s eyes rolled with annoyance as he listened to the three demons in the other room banter over such mundane things. To his surprise however, Zecora was rather passive during all this. In fact, she even had a faint smile on her lips.

“How can anyone put up with them?” he asked, referring to the Cutie Mark Crusaders. The question made Zecora stop for a second as her head lowered like she was slightly ashamed by what she was about to say.

“There are…” she paused as she tried to word this carefully, “… times where their behavior is more troubling than an angered bee.”

Her head rose as she met Dead Ringer’s eyes. Now a warm smile grew on her lips along with a small spark in her eyes like she was proud by what she was about to say next.

“But in the end, it’s hard to imagine life without the three.” Content with herself Zecora’s eyes fell back on her task. All the while, Dead Ringer was scoffing at her words.

He imagined her life would be a lot happier, and his would be Equestrian free. Also he didn’t know what a ‘bee’ was, but he assumed it was something annoying, loud, and probably painful.

His thoughts were disrupted when he noticed Zecora reaching over for something. Her hoof disappeared into an adjacent bag on the nearby table, and Zecora took out a peculiar looking object.

It was tan brown with the bottom shaped wide and round, while it had a curved tip at the end, making the whole thing pear-shaped. Attached to it was a short shoulder strap, which Zecora held onto as she showed it to Dead Ringer.

“Here, you should drink,” she offered as she held out the canteen for him. “Something to rehydrate you will help, I think.”

Carefully taking the foreign object with his free hoof, Dead Ringer studied it. Giving it a shake, he could hear it make a swishing sound. Curious, he leaned in as he gave the open tip a sniff.

His head immediately arched back in surprise, not believing what he just whiffed. Leaning in he sniffed it again.

A familiar odorless fragrance kept entering his nostrils. A smell he knew anywhere.

“Wa-water?” he crooned in alarm. His head tilted to Zecora as if he asked again. Answering him, she softly shook her head yes.

“Water!” he exclaimed with joy. Raising the container over his head with his free leg, the refreshing liquid poured into his mouth. However, something was odd about it.

Looking at the strange item yet again, he gave the tip another sniff in confusion. It had that same unscented odor water always had. And yet the taste Dead Ringer was accustomed to was different.

Zecora noticed his bewilderment as she caught his attention.

“It tastes different.”

“I don’t understand what you mean,” Zecora responded, slightly bewildered by what could be wrong with her water. “It is simply clean.”

“Wait, wait, wait, wait!” Dead Ringer protested. “Did you just say this water is clean? It’s clean?” The completely stunned changeling repeated as he leaned in with emphasis.

The now awkward feeling Zecora nodded nervously as an answer. Dead Ringer idly turned to the foreign container carrying what he now knew was ‘clean’ water.

“Its clean!” he shouted with triumph as he started drinking like there was no tomorrow.

This was different from the water he tasted back at the river yesterday, and it was far different from the water he was accustomed to in the canyon badlands or underground catacombs. This water was cool, fresh, and most important of all: It was clean! For the first time in his life, Dead Ringer’s mouth tasted fresh clean water! If changelings were capable of crying, he’d be weeping right about now.

Choosing not to question why the changeling was so over excited over clean water, Zecora focused back on Dead Ringer’s leg. Thankfully he was so distracted by the water; she was able to finish cleaning without issue or interruption.

She was now just finishing things up by wrapping Dead Ringer’s leg up in a striped colored sheet she wasn’t using anymore. She never was one for modern medicine like gauze. However, situations like this almost made her wish she kept some as backup.

It was around this time that three guilty looking fillies chose to make their entrance. Their look alone showed they had no idea how they were going to explain the mess in the other room.

Despite their shame-filled looks, Zecora still greeted them with a friendly smile, while Dead Ringer’s only response was a quick glance from his eye as he continued drinking. Of course, the object that he was drinking out of did not go unnoticed by the three inquisitive fillies.

“What’s that?” Apple Bloom asked as curious as ever.

Knowing what she was referring too Zecora quickly answered, “A ‘bota bag’ is what it’s referred to. Like a canteen it’s used to carry and drink water through.”

Deciding to get a closer look Sweetie Belle moved in to give the strange item a sniff, much to Dead Ringer’s clear displeasure.

“What’s it made of?” she inquired. Whatever fabric was used to make it certainly didn’t look like something she’d seen in any store in town before. That, and it smelled funny.

Once again Zecora was ready with another answer, but still kept her eyes focused on the task at hand. “A unique fabric that holds it together. I believe in your land it is known as, ‘Faux Leather.’”

Sweetie knew what ‘faux leather’ was. It means ‘Fake Leather.’ Her sister uses it from time to time for her work. Although the kind she uses is more fashionable.

She originally was going to go for real leather, but something happened which made her not. Sweetie never did find out why. Maybe because shipping from Grifhalla cost too much? Whenever Sweetie asked her sister she would just give her a grim look and divert the question.

However, this only made her curiosity grow. If faux leather was fake leather, then what was just plain leather made of? For that matter, why wasn’t any of it available in Equestria?

Perhaps it was best if she didn’t dwell on it.

Finally done with the changeling’s infernal leg, Zecora was able to now move on to Dead Ringer’s face. Tearing a clean part of the sterile rag she started disinfecting the exposed wounds around his mouth.

As she cleaned Dead Ringer made a series of grunts and hissing sounds. Part of it was for the discomfort it gave him; but it was partly for the fact that he couldn’t drink now.

“Now just settle down, I know this is not fun,” Zecora commented in attempt to calm him. “But fret not, we are almost done.”

“Hey Zecora? Any chance you gotta wrap a leaf around his big mouth?” Scootaloo quipped. “He’s got cuts there too.”

Dead Ringer craned his head to Scootaloo as he responded back with a threatening snarl. It looked like it was back to the – uninventive – jokes with her.

Although she knew she was joking, Zecora still felt the need to respond. If only to lighten the tension Dead Ringer was leaving. “Such a necessity he will not be needing. The cuts on his face are not at risk for infection or bleeding.”

With one last scrub, the final cut was clean. Not wasting time to admire her work, Zecora took the dirty cloths she used and tossed them into a nearby empty pot for later disposal. She then headed over to another pot filled with water that acted as her own personal sink. Dipping her hooves in, she began to wash the contaminants from them.

Dead Ringer rubbed his face, groaning out loud as he felt the numb areas she cleaned.

As she watched him Apple Bloom couldn’t help but stiffen a giggle. His face reminded her of what Big Mac looked like after he first tried shaving. Which he had failed at. Horribly.

Studying his hoof, Dead Ringer was surprised to find not an ounce of blood on it. Despite his discomfort, the changeling was pleasantly awed at how well foreign medicine had worked on him. The burning sensation he felt was gone, and his cuts were slowly beginning to numb. All in all, he was doing better than he expected, and all in such a short amount of time at that.

He would never admit this out loud, but this Zecora sure knew some good healing remedies. Then again this was his second time, so he had no other reference than her.

“Not that I wish to upset,” Zecora spoke up as she dried her hooves, “but we are not done yet.”

Dead Ringer sighed bitterly. “What now?”

Choosing to ignore the rather rude reply, Zecora continued. “To ensure your wounds remain clean, to see me again is what you’ll need. The bandage on your leg will need to be replaced, otherwise you really might get infected, or even continue to bleed.”

Dead Ringer was left looking nonplussed as his brain tried process what she meant by that.

He sadly couldn’t.

“Okay, what?” He turned to the Crusaders for a better answer.

Apple Bloom was up for doing the honors. “Ah think she means she’s gonna have ta’ see you again to clean yer cut.”

“Right?” she asked, turning to Zecora for confirmation; one that she answered with a nodding gesture.

The disgruntled changeling was afraid of that. “Lucky me,” Dead Ringer said with little enthusiasm. “I so look forward to spending more time with you.”

Zecora’s only response was a rather broad smile. While this task was not something she wanted either, she at least was content to know she found a way to keep a better eye on her younger friends, and their student.

“Well, I believe it’s time you be on your way. Your return to the comforts of your homes is not something I would want to delay.” As much as Zecora enjoyed company, she knew to never let her visitors stay long. Especially when it was so close to dark.

The crusaders all knew she was right. With everything that’s happened all day the three young ponies had lost track of time. That and the lack of sunlight the forest drowned out kind of added to it. Either way it was time to go.

They were about to say their goodbyes, but Zecora beat them to punch with one last demand. “However before you go,” her eyes fell on Dead Ringer, “there is some special information your student has to know.”

“Alone, I’m guessing?” Scootaloo noted.

Zecora nodded.

Scootaloo and others exchanged an unsure look before turning to Dead Ringer for some clarity.

His brow was raised; he looked just as confused as they did. Caught off guard, he quickly turned to them and then back to Zecora.

What else was there to say? He’d figured Zecora made her message pretty clear in their last conversation. Don’t hurt the Crusaders, or she’ll do something so terrible that it’ll take more than foreign medicine to fix him. The Queen herself couldn’t have been clearer.

“Crusaders, huddle up.”

Dead Ringer’s train of thought was broken as Apple Bloom ordered her friends into a group huddle.

After a few short whispers and some looks here and there, the three broke up allowing Apple Bloom to announce, “Okay, we’ll wait in the other room.” With a smile, she trotted off gracefully.

Well, that was... weird. Even for them, Dead Ringer said to himself as he watched Apple Bloom walk out, followed by Sweetie Belle. All that silence and debate and the three just give in without so much as a question?

Something wasn’t right. Dead Ringer could smell it.

Scootaloo approached Zecora with a guilty look on her face. It was the classic look of a worried child that knew that they had done wrong.

“Um,” she awkwardly rubbed her shoulder. “Sorry about the carpet.”

Clearly not upset, Zecora replied with a smile. “Nothing to fear little one. It is no harm done.”

Feeling a small load off her shoulders Scootaloo headed off to join her friends, making sure to shut the door behind as she left. Leaving Dead Ringer and Zecora the only ones in the room.

Once again Dead Ringer found himself in déjà vu. Injured after an incident with the three fillies he was trapped with, at the mercy of a strange foreigner with medical knowledge that was strange and alien to him, his body bandaged and hurt. Minus the clean water, he’d pretty much come full circle.

“What’s happening?” Scootaloo whispered to Apple Bloom.

“Shh! Ah’m tryin’ to listen!”

With her ear pressed firmly against the door, Apple Bloom did her best to listen in on the two adults in the other room, while Sweetie and Scootaloo used her as their conduit of info.

Although the crusaders were okay with their last private talk, the way it ended with Dead Ringer storming out left them with some unanswered questions.

Questions that they hoped this new chat would answer. Or at the very least, ensure the two ended things on a less negative note.

So it wasn’t really eavesdropping. It was more or less monitoring.

If they weren’t already aiming for their teacher cutie marks, they could probably try out for their guard cutie marks, but they already tried that one. Hence why they are forbidden from ever going back to the theme park Marineland again.

“So what now?” Dead Ringer started things off not even bothering to look at Zecora, his tone as deadpan as ever. “You going to threaten me again?”

“To threaten you is not what I had in mind. After our last converse, I doubt there’s a need to remind.”

“Then what is it?” he snapped, this time giving her his undivided attention. Anger was looming in his voice. Maybe it was the suspense, or maybe he was just tired, but regardless all he wanted was to just finish this and go home.

Well go back to his – hopefully – temporary home that was the house tree the Crusaders dubbed their ‘Clubhouse.’

It was then that something happened Dead Ringer did not foresee. Zecora’s demeanor started to soften. His nose was also detecting a new emotion passing through her.

Guilt. With a trace of sadness mixed in. Is she, pitying me?

Zecora’s eyes fell to the side as she tried to avoid eye contact like before. “While I’m quite influenced in my studies of animals and history, I’m no master of ethology. And so…” working up the courage she faced him. “I believe I owe you an apology.”

“What?” he responded in confusion, his head turning faintly.

Zecora shut her eyes, collecting her thoughts. “My behavior when we first met was rather… unlike me. I made a scene based not on the words but on the cover of the book I could see.”

Dead Ringer just stood there, remaining quiet as he let Zecora continue. Also he didn’t know why she was using books as an analogy, but he didn’t let the thought linger.

“While you are a creature whose life and past are unknown,” Zecora said bluntly. “Your actions have shown there's more to you then your race’s history alone.”

“I still stand by that I was looking out for the girls protection,” she defended. A defense she would protect to the end. “However I’m sorry, and admit I was out of direction.”

Finally getting that off her chest, Zecora waited for Dead Ringer’s response. Both curious and nervous of what it would be.

Just standing there in complete muteness Dead Ringer weighed the healer’s words through his mind. Sporting his usual unreadable deadpan look.

To be frank, he didn’t know how to respond. He wasn’t accustomed to anyone apologizing to him with such sincerity. Sure his troops and workers back home had done it many times, but they usually did so out of fear, not because they wanted to make amends.

Still, he knew one thing: There was no way had any intention of letting her off easy.

“Yeah well,” he forced resentfully, doing his best to hide his confusion behind anger, “next time you should try harder!”

His words hurt, but Zecora had no way to rebut his response. All she could do was lower her head in shame.

Turning around Dead Ringer faced the door as he readied to storm out once again, and put this chapter of his life to a close.

Instead he stopped just a few inches from the way out, his body refusing to move.

He could’ve walked out right then and there. He should’ve walked out right then and there. He had the right too. She admitted to wronging him, and he was justified to wronging her back.

Only, he didn’t. For some reason he couldn’t find a reason too.

Also, there was something else. He was getting a feeling in his chest again. Only instead of the unfamiliar warmth, it was discomfort. Kind of like an icy echo into a dark dreary void. In didn’t hurt that much, but it was bothersome.

With a heavy sigh, the quiet changeling knew what needed to be said.

“You…” he strained trying to form words, “did help us out there, with the timberwolves.”

Hearing his words made Zecora give pause as a small, but notable smile started make its return to her once sad demeanor.

“And despite my behavior, you still healed me.” Looking over his shoulder, he added, “Twice, even.”

Turning his body around Dead Ringer approached Zecora. Not threateningly, not even menacingly, just casually. “And if I’m anything, I’m a soldier who knows character when he sees it.”

It took a moment for her to finally look at him fully, but as his words fell on her, relief slowly found its way into Zecora’s nerves. Although she faced him, Dead Ringer still refused to make eye contact.

“So…” he swallowed. “Healer Zecora.”

It was then Dead Ringer said something he never thought he would ever say. Well, say to a zebra technically.

Carefully he inched his head up to face her. “Thank you.”

Little did the changeling know that his words were not only falling on Zecora’s ears, but in the other room his words were being heard by others as well.

“What did he say?” Sweetie Belle asked, thinking she just when deaf.

Creeping away from the door Apple Bloom looked just as shock as she did. “He said thank you.”

Her face instantly lit up like a filly that just discovered her special talent on her birthday. “He said thank you!”

Apple Bloom then whirled around to Scootaloo, sporting her infamous knowing grin, complete with a raised brow of boldness as she craned her head high and proudly.

Scootaloo gave sigh filled with aggravation; she knew where this was going. “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” she pouted, sounding not the least bit happy. Mostly because she hated when she’s wrong. “He learned something I guess.”

Taking in the feeling of being right Apple Bloom and her unicorn friend high-hoofed as they each did their own dances of joy. Well to them it was dancing; to Scootaloo it was more like they were trying to swat a fly in the air while a bucket was over their head.

As Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle celebrated their small victory, Scootaloo chose to ignore them as she took her friend’s spot at the door to listen in on the adults chat.

Thankfully it didn’t seem like she missed much as silence still lurked in the other room. She could only guess that Zecora was trying her best to keep her composure.

“You…” she finally spoke, still in shock over what she just heard “… didn’t have to say that.”

A short beat of silence hit them as Dead Ringer waited for her to finish her rhyme.

Shockingly, it never came. It was a rare occurrence, but Zecora truly was at a loss for words.

“I know,” Dead Ringer bluntly agreed, filling the silence. “I chose to.”

Once again Dead Ringer found himself not knowing what to do. Where does one go from here? His eyes swatted from side to side in a nervous fashion as he tried to find a subject to use or say.

At last his eyes fell on water bag that still remained on the table near him. Zecora would probably want that back.

“Um, here,” he said awkwardly as he handed it to her. Instead of taking it however, Zecora pushed it back to him, much to his surprise.

“Keep it,” she replied with a smile. “Consider it my way of repenting for my earlier behavior that was unfit.” Taking the strap of the bota bag Zecora hung it around Dead Ringer’s neck.

Now it was Dead Ringer who was at a loss for words. She was giving him something that not only carried water, but clean water at that. Such an item Dead Ringer, or any other changeling for that matter, never would’ve dreamed of having.

“I…” he staggered, rubbing his hoof through the row of the spines that was his mane in an almost nervous fashion, “don’t know what to say. I guess, thank you? Again?”

Now seemed like as good of time as any to leave. Things were getting a little uncomfortable for the nonplussed changeling.

“Wait,” Zecora cried, causing the changeling to stop. “I know healing is my profession. But might you repay me with an answer to one question?”

Dead Ringer raised his eyebrow. “That depends. What kind of question?”

“Please,” she implored. “Just so my mind may be at ease.”

Among changelings when one does right for another, they owe them a debt. After what happened today, he definitely owed her.

Although it didn’t seem fair; after all she wasn’t the only one with questions. Dead Ringer had his own. Like how did she know so little of them, yet outright knew of their class system? The defining trait that sets all changelings of apart, next to titles of course.

The only way she would know is if she’d been to his homeland, which was impossible. Or met a changeling, which was completely impossible.

She looked no older than he did, and his colony’s isolation had been going on for hundreds of years. No outsider has ever entered they’re domain in decades. Along with that no changeling has freely left the colony in that entire time. Any that did would have perished in the forest by going on their own.

Only the Queen’s elite guard could achieve such a feat. Any changeling that left the colony unattended wouldn’t survive on they’re own. Every changeling knew that.

She only said ‘one’ question; and she said earlier she was going to – unfortunately – have to see him again. When the time was right he would get his answer from her then. Of this he promised himself.

After a short delay Dead Ringer resentfully replied, “Proceed...”

Hearing everything Scootaloo pressed her ear as firmly against the door as she could manage. Something told her she wasn’t going to want to miss this; her friends either as Scootaloo found the door now becoming crowded by two extra listeners.

Taking a deep breath Zecora prepared her words before speaking. “Earlier you said you had no heart along with a scene. I have to know, what did you mean?”

“Are you serious?” Dead Ringer jeered louder than he intended. “Your wasting your one question on that?” He was expecting a question like who he was, or what his colonies intentions were. Not something so trivial. The Queen’s hoof size would’ve served as a more enlightening question.

Zecora remained still and firm as she waited for her answer.

Despite finding the question to be fruitless, Dead Ringer still answered. “It means as it sounds,” he said plainly. “I, like all changelings, have no heart. It’s as simple as that.”

The three crusaders all stepped back for a second. Each sharing a bewildered yet miffed look.

Did they really just hear that? How is such a farfetched idea even possible?

“Is this what all changelings believe?” Zecora pressed inquisitively, looking not the least bit satisfied with that answer. “Or is it something that only you perceive?”

“I thought you were asking only one question?” Dead Ringer reminded her sternly.

Like before Zecora did not respond. She refused to back down until she was given a proper response that satisfied her.

The whole thing was beginning to make Dead Ringer uncomfortable. Zecora clearly wasn’t going to let him leave until he gave her a better answer.

“It…” he paused for a second. “It’s just something I was told growing up. I’m older now, and I still believe it.”

“Utterly absurd!” Zecora snapped, not even realizing how loud she sounded. “That is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard!”

She wasn’t the only one who found this idea to be nuts. Scootaloo and the others just couldn’t understand how someone could base an entire belief on something they were told growing up. By that definition Rainbow Dash should still be crashing all over the place.

“Is it?” Dead Ringer retorted; the steel in his voice had risen to a menacing yet hushed tone. “The evidence suggests it is factual.”

Tension started to build in the room. The two just stared at one another in anger. It wasn’t in a hateful manner, but more in dissatisfied behavior.

Zecora knew neither one of them were doing anything to lighten the situation, so it was her who backed down first. Taking a deep breath she calmed her nerves. Dead Ringer eventually followed.

He refused to look at her, ashamed at where this simple question had headed.

“You truly desire the truth?” he probed, doing his best not to sound shy or curious about it.

With a nod yes, Dead Ringer sighed outwardly as he gave the full answer; along with that ‘evidence’ he mentioned a second ago.

“Creatures that have hearts, can give love. Not just take it. I’ve never known a changeling that ever showed something considered close to love.” This time when he spoke his tone was softer, calm even; but there was something else creeping in it. Zecora couldn’t tell if it was jealously, or depression. Whatever it was, it loomed in Dead Ringer’s words as he went on.

“Some might be gentle to others. Helpful even. But at the end that’s as close to companionship as any changeling has ever known or given to another. Even then the percentage that shares this trait are of a rare breed.” His teeth showed as he chuckled. It was the closest thing to a smile he’s shown since Zecora met him; but it didn’t last. Whether the chuckle was for that sentence, or the idea, Zecora couldn’t tell either.

“Love…” he paused to lick his lips. Even the mere word was making him hunger. But he did best to contain himself. “... is just something we lack.” His eyes drooped to the side. “Among other things. It’s just not in our nature.”

Looking at Zecora, Dead Ringer gave the closest straightest face he could manage. There was no sign of deceit, no wrinkle of intimidation, not even a hint of anger, just full sincerity.

“Nothing can change that.”

Zecora at last nodded understandingly. Her question was answered, she now understood. She didn’t like it, but she understood; and if her assumption on the curious crusaders were correct, she wasn’t the only one feeling this way.

Suddenly Dead Ringer started rubbing his eyes. For some reason beyond his understanding they started feeling irritated. Itchy almost.

That wasn’t the only thing that was happening. He didn’t know why, but he felt… sad.

Sadness, a feeling caused by the stimulation of grief and great depression.

Why was he feeling this all of a sudden? He’d known the truth about his people his whole life. Why would it bother him now?

Was it because of who told him?

The grief he felt turned to anger as he felt the sharp edges of his fanged teeth grind against each other.

Or was it because in the end, he hated what he believed to be true?

Whether it was from the ‘who’ or the ‘what’, he could not say. All he knew was this was what he believed to be true, and it seemed some part of him disliked it.

When it comes down to facing the truth, the reality hurts more then the illusion ever could. Living in blissful ignorance and not having to worry about such issues seems like a dream. In the end however, all dreams come to an end and the harsh reality comes crashing down. How one faces them is what defines them.

Or in his case, motivates them.

Okay he knew he had to stop now. This cycle of thought was all starting to sound like big words the Queen would use.

These strange feelings he’d been experiencing lately were probably all from too much exposure to these foreign lands and their emotional inhabitants. He was likely suffering from some kind of side effect from being around these unknowns for too long.

At least that was what he told himself. Hopefully, whatever was going on would pass with time.

“I should go.” Dead Ringer stated. “The sun will go down soon, which means more creatures of the night will be stalking the forest.”

The timberwolves were just the beginning. After dark was when the real horrors of the night came to lurk the forest. Horrors that Dead Ringer had no intention of encountering.

Turning around, he headed for the door. Placing his hoof against it, Dead Ringer shot one last glance to the wise creature that healed him. “Farewell, Zecora.”

With a smile and a polite bow, she bid him goodbye: an act Zecora never believed she’d be doing this day.

“Come along, girls,” Dead Ringer called. “I’ve had just about all I can stand of this forest.”

Surprisingly, when the door opened the girls were already lined up to go. They each were wearing huge smiles that most definitely looked like they had nothing to hide.

“Comin’!” Apple Bloom answered.

“Bye, Zecora!” Sweetie said. “We’ll see you tomorrow!”

Apple Bloom was almost the first one out; instead she came to a stop when she realized something important had slipped her mind. Their secret crusade!

“Wait! Zecora you gotta promise--!”

“Your crusades and all previous instances shall remain concealed,” Zecora tersely answered, knowing full well what the child was about to ask. “On this matter, my lips are sealed.”

The sincerity in her voice and the smile on her face were enough to calm the filly’s fears in an instant. Content that she and her friends were safe for another day, Apple Bloom headed out, trotting after the others.

While Zecora was against lying, she understood the little one’s concerns. However, she also knew that like all lies, the truth will – and must – come out. Only it was better when it came out from the mouth of the one who withholds the truth, not from another.

Standing halfway out the door, Zecora stood there as she watched her three young friends along with their ‘student’ get farther and farther away. Her eyes zoned in on him.

Sure, she could’ve asked him who he was. After what she’d seen however, she had a small clue.

Whoever he was, he was a creature of authority, something it seemed he commanded when they first met. Meaning back where he came from, he was accustomed to others who followed what he said.

This was all just theoretical though, meaning she no hard evidence to follow on. If that was true however, then this whole event was rather humorous in a way. A creature of such decoration following the rules of mere children. Maybe that would be enough to quell the emerald fire within him.

“Creature who says he has no heart. Your journey has only made its start. For the winds of change blow strong and clear. But how it will affect you, and those who follow you, is what I truly fear.”

Sure that they were completely out of site, Zecora headed back in. There was still much to do. She had more herbs to brew, shelves to restock, and an old rug she was probably going to have to get rid of.

The walk home was quiet. After finally leaving the Everfree Forest, the crusaders were now back in the familiar plantation of Sweet Apple Acres. The sky above was a mixed color of orange and blue as the giant ball of fire in the sky was ready to finally set for the end of such a long day.

The whole scene was rather tranquil; a welcomed change from the dark and depressing tone that was the Everfree Forest.

Not wanting to risk any tears in his new injuries Dead Ringer chose to stay on the ground alongside the girls. With the sun setting, the shadows from the trees above provided enough darkness to mask him and his followers. So stealth through changing was not necessary.

Despite everything that’s happened up till now Dead Ringer was content with heading back and getting some rest. After getting a swig from his new carrier of clean water and feeding on a cupcake of course. With what happened in that forest, he’d definitely earned a reward for the day.

It was weird though. Given the circumstance of having an injured leg, nearly being eaten alive by timberwolves, blacking out, and the lingering chance he may not be able to return to his colony any time soon, he was quite stoic through it all.

Maybe the chance of revenge provided a light in the darkness for him; some illumination of promise. Maybe having clean water and sustenance that provided the emotion he fed on – which didn’t come from a dirty rodent for once – was enough to put a damper on his foul mood. Or maybe he was just so blinded with utter rage he’s just gone completely numb.

Yeah he’d go with that one.

SNIFF!

Well at least he was content. Which couldn’t be said for the Crusaders.

Ever since they left the forest he’d been smelling angst on them the entire time; for what reason he couldn’t fathom. Usually distress was felt when one was INSIDE the forest.

Perhaps they’re still shaken from the timberwolves, Dead Ringer thought to himself. It would make sense, given their age.

Unbeknownst to the soldier however, their minds weren’t focused on the wooden wolves from before, but from the conversation they discreetly listened in on.

His words were still floating around their little minds, like an annoyed bee trapped inside a jar. It felt odd; they were supposed to be the teachers, yet they’d been learning stuff lately too about a race that was alien to many in their homeland.

Whether or not Dead Ringer’s words were right, they could not say however. They had only one changeling‘s word to back that argument up.

The idea seemed ludicrous, but was it possible? They, like many other ponies, knew so little of these mysterious creatures. Maybe changelings really didn’t.

They hadn’t seen any evidence from their actions to support otherwise; but saying their race had no heart is like saying there’s no good in any of them. Not all changelings could be so cold and heartless. Right?

These were big questions their young minds just couldn’t handle. This felt like the kind of questions Twilight would contemplate after a week of studying and two hours of list checking.

“If you’re worried about the timberwolves, you have nothing to fear.” Dead Ringer quelled the silence with words he believed would help relax the girls. Not that he cared or anything, but all this angst was starting to bother his nose.

Their train of thought broken, each of the girls gave him their undivided attention as he continued. “They aren’t known for holding grudges, nor leaving the forest after a failed hunt. Mostly.”

“Huh?” Apple Bloom questioned, before she realized what the changeling was trying to do. “Oh um, thanks,” she said through an awkward smile.

Judging from that response, his words either didn’t work or there was something else that was bothering them. So if the wolves weren’t the reason for their troubled emotions, then what was?

Slightly irritated, he focused his gaze back on the trail ahead. What concern was it to him? They were healthy. That was enough.

Thankfully, it looked liked the day was almost over. The clubhouse was coming into view.

Dead Ringer came to a halt as he allowed the girls to go up first.

Taking her pace up the ramp, Apple Bloom paused after opening the door as she turned to a now silent Dead Ringer. “Y’know, neither of us ever did get a chance to say thanks ‘bout earlier.”

“Don’t mention it,” he replied, walking past her.

A smile spread across her face as she took in the changeling’s modest words. “Aw, you don’t have to be mod--”

“No,” Dead Ringer snapped as he spun around, facing her. “I mean it,” he emphasized curtly. “Do not mention it. Ever.” He leaned in closer as he whispered his last words like they were venom. “Especially that laughing part.”

His eyes darted from her to Sweetie and Scootaloo, signaling the same went for them as well. “Crystal?”

“Yeah,” Apple Bloom answered, nervously smiling and shaking her head. Sweetie and Scootaloo mimicked her as well, though Scootaloo looked less than happy. “C-crystal clear.”

“Good,” Dead Ringer responded, his tone and expression shifting to outright calm and neutral.

Feeling his point was made; he headed inside like nothing even happened, leaving three jumbled fillies at the door.

“For your efforts in striving to achieve, and for your acts in defending the Cutie Mark Crusaders in their hour of need, I decree that you, Student Dead Ringer, have earned a cupcake!”

After shrugging off her student’s little warning, and giving her heart a second to relax, Sweetie Belle decided it was time for their student’s reward. With everything that happened, she and the others agreed he’d earned his treat for the day. While they hadn’t taught him much today, he still showed signs of improvement since they first met him.

It’s as Cheerilee always said: “Every little bit counts on the road toward achievement.”

Besides, they still had to keep him fed as best they could. They couldn’t have him going off to hunt for his food, especially with Ponyville so close to them.

Holding an orange frosted cupcake high over her head like it was an award, Sweetie presented it to a now drooling Dead Ringer as he dug into it in a manner even Pinkie Pie would find distasteful, sending crumbs and frosting everywhere.

Giving a small grimace at the scene Sweetie Belle watched as he ate.

Although their topics of teaching were supposed to cover Equestrian culture, they were probably going have to cover manners again; table manners most likely.

As goofy as it looked, Dead Ringer’s eating habits were not exactly cleanly. Then again Sweetie had seen how most colts at school ate, so maybe it was more of a boy thing.

Deciding it was best to just let him eat, the young unicorn turned away to join the others at the pile of books on the other side of the room; but not before her eye caught notice at the burning flame that glowed around his horn. It looked like he was eating the treat in more ways than one.

Paying it no mind, she walked over the pile, where Apple Bloom and Scootaloo were busy solving the book issue.

Scootaloo glared at the pile as she mulled over their given situation. “So if we’re really going to do this thing, what are we gonna do about the brainy books?”

After a couple of seconds to think it over, Sweetie proposed her idea. “Why don’t we each take one book home, read it, and use whatever we can to teach from it?” It was technically the same idea she shared earlier, but she never exactly went into detail.

“That’s a great idea Sweetie Belle!” Apple Bloom remarked. Sweetie smiled in return. “Out of the three of us at least one has to find somethin' usable for tomorrow.”

It looked like everything was in place. Well, almost everything. There was only one judgment left. “Scootaloo?” Apple Bloom opened with an undertone of intrigue, her eyes narrowing intensely. “Objections?”

All eyes, minus two that were focused on a frosted cupcake, fell on the young flyer as they waited to hear any protests she had to share.

Finding absolutely none Scootaloo was left with only one answer. “Fine…” she said dryly. It was a rather well thought out idea she would admit. However, it also meant more work to add to her ever-growing list of things to do. She still had that Family Appreciation Day to deal with, along with that essay for Cheerilee about that accident earlier.

“Alrighty then!” Apple Bloom cried out loud, her voice and attitude filled with cheer as she prepared to leap for joy. “Cutie Mark Crusade--!”

“Apple Bloom! Ya up there?”

The excited filly immediately froze at half leap as a familiar voice from outside called for her. A voice with a familiar accent she'd know anywhere. “Applejack?”

Seconds after the first call another voice from the same direction was heard. Only this voice was different, more cultivated.

“Sweetie Belle? Darling?”

Sweetie blinked, looking just as shocked and confused as Apple Bloom did. “Rarity?”

Running to the window the three caught sight of both Apple Bloom’s and Sweetie Belle’s sisters heading toward the clubhouse.

“What are they doing here?” Scootaloo asked out loud.

Looking at one another the young fillies confusion switched to complete terror. Turning around they focused their eyes toward Dead Ringer.

“Uh oh,” they said in unison fearfully.

They immediately forgot about the reason why their sisters were here and were now focused on the fact that they were coming to their clubhouse! The clubhouse that unfortunately, had a fully-grown CHANGELING in the room!

If they got caught, none of them would see the light of day until they were Granny Smith’s age! Worst of all, they would end up breaking a Pinkie Promise! Such an act was basically a death sentence.

Thankfully, from the looks of things, said changeling was so into his cupcake he failed to hear of Applejack and Rarity’s approach. They still had time, but they had to do something, and fast!

Putting a plan together, Sweetie Belle took action. “Apple Bloom! Meet me down below so we can deal with our sisters.”

Understanding, she proceeded to the door. Turning to Scootaloo, Sweetie prepared her instructions. “Scootaloo, wait here with Dead Ringer, and whatever you do, keep him away from the windows!”

Knowing her orders, Scootaloo stood at attention as she saluted. “Roger!”

Not wasting any time, Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom headed out, shutting the door behind them as fast but as subtly as they could manage. Leaving only Scootaloo behind to stand guard.

“Who’s this Roger?”

Flinching a little, Scootaloo spun around to find Dead Ringer had finished with his cupcake and was holding his drink instead. He was staring at her with a raised eyebrow of slight intrigue, but also confusion.

“Um… No one?” she awkwardly answered.

He continued to stare at her as if trying to figure her out. That response seemed a little forced. That and her tone wobbled between nervous tension and uncertainty.

If his nostrils weren’t already filling with the unscented aroma of aqua, he would’ve detected the whiff of tension passing through the young filly.

After a few seconds, he finally broke off his gaze with a small shrug. Choosing to ignore it for now, he went back to drinking from his bota bag.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Scootaloo relaxed. This hopefully bought herself and her friends some time.

Outside Applejack and Rarity made it to the front of the clubhouse just in time to see Apple Bloom come down to greet them.

“Uh, hey Applejack! Hey Rarity!” Trying not to look or sound nervous, Apple Bloom put on the best smile she could manage. “What brings y’all around these parts?”

“Young filly,” Applejack started off sternly. “Ah thought Ah told you to be home before sundown?”

Hearing her sister’s words made the little filly look away half ashamed. It slipped her mind that she was still in trouble after coming home late yesterday. Applejack was willing to let it slide, provided that she promise to come home early from now. A promise it seems she was not starting off correctly.

“Ah’m sorry sis,” Apple Bloom weakly replied, shuffling her hoof against the grass. “We were just bus--”

“Rarity!”

Like a python striking its prey Sweetie Belle leaped from the ramp and snatched her sister around the neck, pulling her into the tightest – but affectionate – hug imaginable. While Sweetie was initially shocked to see Rarity here, it was still a blast to see her older sister again.

“I missed you!”

Although she felt like she was in a chokehold, Rarity managed to strain a meek smile for her younger sibling. “Um, yes I missed you too, Sweetie dear.”

Eventually releasing her sister from her hold Sweetie Belle asked the obvious. “Rarity, why are you here?” Her eyes then noticed the stylish sun hat her big sister was sporting. “And why are you wearing that hat?”

After straightening said hat a little, Rarity kindly responded, “Well I was planning on coming here on my own free merit,” her attention then switched to her farming companion, “until Applejack paid me a visit earlier.”

Applejack suddenly found herself the center of attention. Nervously brushing her mane she said, “Yeah, that there’s a funny story.”

Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle shared looks of intrigue, emphasizing they wanted to hear this ‘funny’ story.

Seeing no harm, Applejack happily obliged. “Well, with Big Mac watchin’ the apple stand today, Ah needed an extra set of hooves helpin’ me pick apples.” Her expression then twisted into anger as she grinded her teeth. “A set which a certain striped tailed pegasus, who shall remain nameless, promised she would be.”

Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle snickered a little. They had a fairly good clue.

Calming down a little AJ continued. “So Ah was left with nothin’ to do but find somepony else.”

“So you asked Rarity?” Sweetie questioned, looking befuddled. No offense to her sister, but Rarity was the last pony she expected Applejack to ask with farming.

“Actually Ah was gonna ask Fluttershy, but she apparently is havin’ her own problems with them animals of hers.”

“So then you asked Rarity?” Sweetie retorted.

“No… Then Ah asked Spike, but the little guy was busy sortin’ through a huge mess at the library.” Covering her mouth Applejack couldn’t help but chuckle. “I tell ya that whole place looked like a stampede done ran right through it.”

“Yeah… Heh! A stampede,” Apple Bloom nervously joked as her sister continued recounting her day.

“Pinkie was busy watching the Cake Twins, that and she was doin’ some kinda crazy experiment with cupcake recipes,” Applejack shook her head, not even wanting to fathom what that crazy pony was up too. “So Ah was left with Rarity.”

“Excuse me?” Rarity exclaimed looking utterly horrified by Applejack’s statement. “Left with?!”

“Well can ya blame me?” Applejack protested. “You spent a whole hour tryin’ to figure which hat to wear after Ah asked ya.”

Whirling around Rarity turned her back on Applejack as she held her nose high in the air, displeased by her friend’s words. “Well if I was going to be out in the scorching sun for so long, I at least had to wear something appropriate. Not all of us have only one hat to wear.”

“True,” Applejack agreed before countering, “but not all of us have over fifty-six hats!”

Dead Ringer’s ears suddenly flinched as they detected the loud shouting coming from outside. Leaving his drink on the floor he stood up.

“What’s going on down there?” he asked agitatedly to Scootaloo. Loud noises were one thing, but interruptions during ones feeding time are not something a changeling enjoyed.

“Um…” Scootaloo started, trying to find a proper response. “Two cats having a fight?”

Dead Ringer gave her a less than convinced look.

She was lying. Badly too. If that ‘book’ ever taught Dead Ringer anything it was that cats only say ‘meow.’ Enough about that however, he was going to get to the bottom of this.

Pushing her aside he headed for the window to get a better assessment of what was causing this ruckus.

“Wait!” she cried trying to stop him.

Back outside Applejack and Rarity’s disagreement had shifted into a full-blown argument with the two now in each other’s faces.

“Well I would have gotten you more apples if you hadn’t yelled at me about using magic.”

“And Ah wouldn’t have had to yell at ya if YOU hadn’t plucked them down one by one with yer magic!”

The two glared at each other for a while until Rarity broke it off by turning her back to Applejack like before.

Only this time she shot Applejack a glance over shoulder as she stated, “You have your methods, and I have mine.” Feeling her point was made she turned away, having nothing more to say.

Grudgingly letting the unicorn off for now, Applejack didn’t show her anger as she turned back to the youngins in the vicinity.

“So yeah, that was mah day.” Discreetly she shot one last glare toward Rarity. “How was y’alls?”

“Oh y’know.” Apple Bloom responded vaguely, casually waving her hoof in stride. “The usual.”

Both Applejack and Rarity exchanged unsure looks with each other. Why didn’t that make them feel better?

Realizing how much time they were taking, Apple Bloom knew she had to cut this short. “Well it’s been fun catchin’ up and all but we gotta get goin’. Got homework to do. Books to read.” Throwing her foreleg around Sweetie Belle, the two slowly inched their way toward the ramp. “We just gotta grab some stuff from the clubhouse and we’ll be down in a sec.”

“Y’all need any help?” Applejack kindly offered.

“NO!” Apple Bloom shouted, shocking both herself and the adults at how loud that came out. “Um, Ah mean no,” she reiterated quieter this time. “We got this.”

Despite Scootaloo’s endurance she just couldn’t pull Dead Ringer back. Giving up on being coy about the whole thing, she instead shifted her strategy to just plain keeping him away from the window. A feat she sadly failed at, given Dead Ringer’s strength.

Staring out the window Dead Ringer eyes noticed four figures below. Familiar figures.

Sweetie and Apple Bloom he easily identified, but the other two he found himself wondering at. They looked familiar, but where?

“Ya critters!”

“Brutes!”

Like a flash of lightning in the dark of night the images and memories from Canterlot flashed through his mind, leaving the changeling completely shocked at the spot.

“Its THEM!” he cried out in reaction.

As fast as she could Scootaloo worked her wings into gear as she jumped onto Dead Ringer’s back before throwing her forelegs around his head in vain attempt to pull him back.

“Get away from the window!”

Crying out in pain Dead Ringer did as she said, but not because she told him. No it was more because she was standing on his bad wing.

This cry did not go unnoticed however.

“What the tree dirt was that?” Applejack asked as she stared intensely at the clubhouse from where the sound originated.

Rarity also noticed as well. “Girls,” she said firmly, yet gently. “Is there somepony else up there?”

Apple Bloom did her best to mask her uneasiness, but the sweat falling on her face was making it difficult. “Nope! Other than Scootaloo, there’s no other pony up there.” Although she hated lying, Apple Bloom wasn’t technically being untruthful.

Briefly, she turned to her friend for assurance. “Right, Sweetie Belle?”

Sweetie nodded in agreement. “Eyup!”

“Sure doesn’t sound like it,” Applejack pointed out as she started making her way up the tree house with Rarity following close behind.

“Wait!” Apple Bloom called after. “You can’t go up there!”

Coming to a halt, Applejack stared at the now nervous fillies with suspicion. “And why not?” she probed; now knowing full well that something was definitely up.

“Cuz, uh…” Apple Bloom gave a delayed reply. Coming up with nothing, she turned to only the solution she had left. “Sweetie Belle?”

“Um…” After some thought, she smiled with an answer. “There’s a really big bug up there!”

“Seriously?” Apple Bloom dryly replied.

“Well there is!” Sweetie defended.

Sadly, it didn’t work because before they realized it, Applejack and Rarity were already nearing the door to the clubhouse.

Hearing the hoofsteps approach, Scootaloo gulped. “Uh oh,” she squeaked. “Company.”

Dead Ringer just remained silent as he stared glaringly at the door, knowing the two were approaching.

Opening the entrance Applejack and Rarity were left flabbergasted by what they found.

Making it up to the top of the tree house, Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle found to their horror that they were too late.

“Apple Bloom!” Applejack’s stern voice called. “You get in here right this minute and start explainin’ now!”

Knowing their fates were sealed, Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle trudged in to face the music

“Applejack you have ta’ understand,” Apple Bloom pleaded. “We never--!”

The first thing Apple Bloom and Sweetie noticed when they walked in was Scootaloo sitting in the center with a nervous smile on her face, while Applejack and Rarity’s attention were focused on the noticeable pile of literature left behind. The second was that Dead Ringer was not where they left him. In fact, he was nowhere on the ground floor.

“Why in tarnation do all y’all have half the library’s books in here?” Applejack commented as she tried to wrap her mind around what use these fancy hardcovers could be to three fillies?

Floating a couple in the air, Rarity examined some of the enthralling titles. “Honestly dears, I’m all happy that the three of you are trying to be literate, but these books seem rather…” Rarity paused as she tried to put this gently. “Sophisticated, for fillies such as yourselves.”

Deciding not to focus on their student’s disappearance for now, Apple Bloom pushed every wagon wheel in her brain into high gear as she attempted to find an answer for this situation.

She needed an answer that was true enough, but at the same time didn’t give away their true intentions.

After pushing her brain to the limits she finally came up with the most convoluted answer she could think up. It was a stretch, but with some luck they might just buy it.

“Its for a crusade of ours!” Apple Bloom claimed with confidence.

“What’s that now?” Applejack asked oddly.

Well to Apple Bloom it seemed convoluted. To her sister however, it just seemed strange. Not the crusade, just that it was coming across that they were being suspicious earlier over books.

Rarity, on the other hand, seemed presently intrigued by this idea. “What kind of crusade?”

Playing along, Sweetie joined in. “We’re trying for our reading cutie marks!”

“Reading Cutie Marks?” Scootaloo repeated. She was willing to go along with this story, but reading cutie marks?

“Yeah!” Apple Bloom nodded. “We figured with everythin’ that’s happened lately, we try for a crusade that was easy.”

“Well that does sound mighty safe-- Ah mean fun!” Applejack quickly covered up. The books were relatively harmless. A few mature novels here and there, but nothing really lethal or inappropriate as far as using for obtaining a cutie mark. Besides, knowing them they’d just get bored and go back to trying for their shark taming cutie marks.

“I concur,” Rarity supported. “However,” levitating a couple books the refined unicorn started stacking them in a well-ordered fashion, “if you're going to keep these books you should at least have the decency to organize them properly,” Rarity lightly scolded.

“If Twilight were to find these books in the state you left them in,” the mere thought made her shudder, “why I don’t even want to fathom how the poor dear would react.”

Leaning up against the wall while Rarity stacked, Applejack couldn’t help but remark with a smile, “Ah reckon it can’t be any worse than how you acted when a measly little bug landed on yer mane.”

Flinching a little, Rarity did her best to keep her sophisticated composure straight. “It was a natural reaction of shock. I simply find bugs to be appalling.”

“But it was a dang Lady Bug!”

Choosing to ignore her friend’s comment, Rarity continued stacking.

Carefully inching their way towards Scootaloo, Sweetie and Apple Bloom moved on to the other issue: Finding their missing student.

“So Scootaloo,” Sweetie Belle said casually to not attract attention, “what happened to that large bug that was in here?”

“Oh…” Scootaloo clumsily returned, “it’s still around.”

This prompted the two to just stare with a blank expression. Seeing this, Scootaloo directed their attention upwards. As their eyes followed both girls were left gawking by what they found.

Clinging to the ceiling just above the door like a spider was their missing student. It was only by a miracle that their sisters hadn’t noticed him, what with the first noticeable thing in the room being on the floor in a chaotic mess.

As he hung there, Dead Ringer stared down at the older mares with seething anger. There they were, two of the six ponies that ruined his people’s chance for a better life. It took every ounce of strength he had to not just get the jump on them; but the temptation was getting harder.

“Holy moly,” Apple Bloom reacted out loud, wondering when this day was going to end.

Her sister’s change in demeanor and strange comment did not go unseen by Applejack. “Somethin' wrong sugarcube?”

Realizing she was heard, Apple Bloom immediately searched for a scapegoat. Thankfully hers came in the form of a white lie, and a white horse.

“Ah mean uh, holy moly!” she said with forced alarm. “Rarity, is that mole on yer face?”

“WHAT?” Rarity wailed, dropping what she was doing to start feeling her complexion in search of this horrid deformity. “WHERE?!”

“Quick, the mirror!” Grabbing Rarity’s free hoof, Apple Bloom lead her to the nearby mirror to aid in finding the non-existent mole.

Applejack sighed in agitation as she went to calm her friend. “Rarity will ya relax? Ah’m sure it’s barely anythin’.”

With the adults now distracted, yet again, Sweetie Belle quietly coaxed Dead Ringer down.

After some reluctance, he shot one final glare toward the older duo along with a quiet hiss before silently crawling down. Although it was more of a walk to him as the smooth surface of the wooden boards made it easier for him to tread from the ceiling to the walls, and from there onto the floor without issue.

Once Dead Ringer was down, the two quietly lead the giant wall crawler out the door as Apple Bloom kept the adults busy.

“Apple Bloom, Ah don’t see anythin’.” Applejack was starting to get a little bothered now. Every bit of deductive reasoning she had told her there was more going on than her sister and friends let on.

Rarity, on the other hand, was more focused on other issues. Like the chance she may never be able to show her face in public again!

“Are you sure? Are you sure?!” Rarity cried, stomping her hooves in a childish fit. She looked like she was nearly on the verge of tears

Sure that they were in the clear, Apple Bloom decided it was best to end this charade before Rarity had a panic attack. Or brought out the large couch.

“Oops! Mah mistake. Must’ve been a bug.”

Rarity then at last relaxed, feeling like she just fought Nightmare Moon, Discord, and an army of Changelings all at once.

All Applejack had to respond with was a roll of the eyes. However, it was with this motion that they caught sight of something.

What Apple Bloom failed to realize was she had Rarity and Applejack focused on a mirror. The same mirror which showed the reflection of everything in the room, including the door closing shut along with three figures walking out. A scene that Applejack just noticed.

“Aha! Ah knew someone was up here!” she cried accusingly as she charged for the door.

Apple Bloom tried to stop her, but her sister proved too quick for her. “Applejack wait we can explain!”

Throwing the door open, Applejack found two startled fillies and one expressionless pegasus by the name of Rainbow Dash on the other side.

Apple Bloom was, to say the least, stumped. “Actually, Ah don’t think we can explain this.”

Applejack, on the other hand, was looking mighty proud, thinking she had everything figured out now. “So Rainbow Dash, Ah see you were able to make it to Sweet Apple Acres after all.”

The look did not last, as Applejack’s anger from earlier came burning back. “Too bad ya were supposed to meet me half a plantation over!”

The pony Applejack believed to be Dash gave a puzzled reaction to her outburst, an expression that didn’t suit a proud mare like her. Or in this case, suit the real Rainbow Dash. “Uh… hi?”

“Oh no!” Applejack countered. “Don’t cha try and weasel yer way outta this one missy!”

Apple Bloom knew that line well. She’d heard it many times whenever she was in trouble. A lecture always followed closely after, and this time was probably not going to be different.

She looked to her friends, hoping one of them would intervene with something, but from their faces she could tell they were all drawing a blank on what to do. Just like her. Although Scootaloo was looking more angered than confused. It was probably because she didn’t appreciate someone impersonating her idol and doing a poor job of it.

Until someone came up with something, Dead Ringer was on his own, and at Applejack’s mercy as her lecture followed.

“So let me get this straight, Dash. Ah don’t see ya for days, what with everythin’ that’s happened.” Her eyes narrowed as she leaned forward. “And when Ah ask you to do one favor for me, ya go and ditch me to go flaunt yer ego with Apple Bloom and her friends? And then you have ‘em lie just to cover yer flank?”

There was a quiet delay as Applejacks eyes lingered on the cyan mare.

“Um… yes?” the fake Dash plainly said without any elaboration whatsoever.

Applejack just looked at her, completely stumped by that answer. She half expected her prideful comrade to put on some big ruse on how she was teaching these kids how to be cool like her. Or spin some wild tale about how she was off saving Ponyville from a gang of evil griffon pirates. Again.

Not a bland straight to the point answer like that. It was so out of character for her. Still...

“Well, at least you were straight with me.” The apple farmer couldn’t fault her friend’s honesty however. “So, what do you have to say for yerself?”

‘Dash,’ or Dead Ringer, had to give that some thought to this. Should he say what he felt for this situation? Or how he believed the Loyalty Bearer would feel? The only reason he even picked this disguise was out of reflex. That and the rainbow wig still lingered in the back of his mind.

“I guess you’re pretty disappointed in me,” ‘Rainbow Dash’ commented.

“Yer darn right Ah am,” Applejack responded a bit harshly.

“Applejack…” came the stern voice of Rarity, who up till now was silent, but decided it was time to intervene. “While I tolerate lies and deceit as much as you do, I do believe that Rainbow Dash at least deserves a little credit for coming forward.”

With Twilight away, Rarity knew somepony had to keep the group together until she returned. She wouldn’t want her dear friend to return finding her friends acting bitter toward one another.

After a couple seconds to think over Rarity’s words and blow off some steam; Applejack started to smile.

“Aw, come here ya featherheaded goon,” she said as she threw her foreleg around her flying comrade in a friendly manner, much to said comrade’s confusion and discomfort. “Ah guess Ah can let ya off with a warnin’ for now.”

The whole scene earned a glad smile from Rarity, thinking highly of how maturely Applejack was handling things.

“Just next time, do me a favor and drop me a message if ya can’t make it so Ah don’t get saddled up with Rarity again.”

“Well, I never!” Rarity exclaimed in offense, thinking she’d spoken too soon.

“Oh relax, will ya?” Applejack replied, not intending her comment to be interpreted that way. “If anythin’ you should be happy Ah won’t be needin’ you around the farm.” Her little smirk grew into a grin. “Less risk of exposure to bugs right?”

“I suppose,” Rarity agreed, her anger now subsided. She really couldn’t argue with that.

Out of the window, night had nearly fallen over the land. A sight that Rarity noticed as she started taking her leave.

“Come along Sweetie Belle,” she announced to her sister as she headed for the door. “Mother and Father are waiting for you back home. After your little stunt yesterday, they’ve asked me to escort you home for the time being until this ‘Green Scare’ is over with.”

“Okay,” Sweetie said with contained excitement in her voice, beaming with utter joy. She knew this was more or less a punishment for yesterday, but she wasn’t going to complain for a chance to see her sister more often. She was about to head out, until she remembered what slipped her mind.

“Oh wait!”

Trotting past her sister, she approached the now neatly stacked books and carefully grabbed a random cover. There wasn’t much time to examine what she got, but Sweetie knew she could just read it later and see what she could use from it then.

With the book balanced on her head she ran past her friends, all the while saying her farewells. “See you at school tomorrow!”

“Bye, Sweetie Belle!” Apple Bloom said as she and Scootaloo waved.

Stepping just halfway out, Sweetie peeked her head back in with a goofy smile. “Bye Dead-er, I mean bye, Rainbow Dash! Have a nice night!”

Despite being held in what felt like a headlock to him, Dead Ringer waved bye to her as well. Mostly just to keep up appearances however.

“See ya Rare!” Applejack called.

“A fine night to you all.” Rarity bowed her head. With that said Rarity and Sweetie took their leave.

At last releasing the pegasus from her grip Applejack decided it was probably time to head home as well. “Alrighty, ready to skedaddle sugarcube?”

“Uh, would it be alright if Ah had just a few minutes to say goodbye to Scootaloo and Rainbow Dash?” Apple Bloom replied innocently.

“Apple Bloom,” Applejack admonished.

“Ah promise Ah’ll be home the second the moon rises,” Apple Bloom solemnly promised, pressing her hoof to her chest giving a scouts honor. Even though she technically wasn’t a scout.

After giving it some thought Applejack reluctantly answered, “Oh alright, but only for a few minutes,” she warned cautiously. “After that Ah expect to see yer flank back home. Got it?”

Understanding completely Apple Bloom smiled. “Yes ma’am!”

Smiling back, Applejack made her way out. “See ya later, Dash! You too, Scootaloo!”

Finally catching a breather, the fake Rainbow Dash feigned a smile as she waved. “Um, yes. Goodbye Bearer- I mean Applejack.”

“One last thing,” Applejack addressed before leaving. “Ditch me like that again, and Ah’ll buck you upside the head,” she warned with a smile.

“I’ll…” the faker strained awkwardly, “keep that in mind.”

“See ya!” Tipping her hat goodbye, Applejack was off.

Once the door was shut, a ring of fire surrounded the fake Dash as the cyan color of her body shattered like glass as the original, almost skeletal, blackened form returned. The mane on the back of its head was incinerated as it was reduced to nothing, replaced with a spiky spine that acted as the insect’s mane. The bandages that covered its bad wing and leg were revealed as the changeling’s warped legs and wings reformed to their original state.

When the flame dispersed, Rainbow Dash was gone and Dead Ringer was back. Giving his form a shake, the changeling gave his joints a stretch. Changing could be difficult sometimes, especially with an injured body part.

“Does that hurt?” the voice of Apple Bloom asked.

When his empty eyes reopened, Dead Ringer made note of the look of curiosity and confusion on her face. “Changing, you mean?” he replied, making sure he understood.

With a nod as her reply, Dead Ringer answered, “Its just natural. Like walking.”

“Still, that’s a neat trick,” she said as a compliment. “Don’t cha think Scootaloo?”

Not looking the least bit fascinated, Scootaloo instead found looking out the window to be more interesting. “Yeah, whatever.”

Dead Ringer’s eye twitched a little. Even though she wasn’t saying anything, he could tell she was insulting him, and one of the worst insults one could give a changeling was insulting their changing talent. It’s almost as bad as insulting their title.

Choosing not to press her friend’s disinterest, Apple Bloom decided to instead take her pick from the large selection of books they had to offer. She studied each book intensely, knowing she had to pick one that looked just right. So, she was basically judging the books by their covers.

“Okay, Ah think Ah’ll take… this one!” She grabbed the closest book to her. She hadn’t read the whole title fully, but she recognized one word on it: Farming. Whatever was in it hopefully covered something she’d be familiar with.

Balancing the book on her back, Apple Bloom was almost ready to go. There were just a few loose ends to tie up.

“You gonna be all right here by yer lonesome?” she asked Dead Ringer. As nice as the clubhouse was, it wasn’t exactly made to suit guests.

There was a short pause as Dead Ringer’s eyes inspected the room. “It’s not exactly sand,” his hoof stomped against the wooden floor to emphasize his statement, “but it’s better then a rock, I suppose.” He nodded. “I’ll survive.”

“All right,” Apple Bloom smiled, satisfied with that answer. “Ah promise Ah’ll try find something to help make yer sleep here better.”

Now, it was onto the final and probably most difficult loose end of all. “You okay gettin’ home on yer own, Scootaloo?” Apple Bloom asked, her uncertain eyes turning to her friend. There was undertone in her voice as well, making her question sound more like an offer.

Hearing her name called broke Scootaloo's attention from the window. “What, me?” She pointed to herself in confusion. “Please,” she dismissed braggingly, switching from puzzled to prideful. “I could make the trip in my sleep.”

“That’s what Ah’m afraid of,” Apple Bloom said, her voice growing softer with concern.

“Huh?” Scootaloo asked, noticing her friend’s strange shift in persona and finding it odd.

Dead Ringer was also noticing. However, he chose to remain the quiet listener as Apple Bloom continued.

“Just…” she strained, trying to say this carefully without coming off as a nosey pony, but still be a concerned friend. “Is everythin’ okay?”

No answer came as Scootaloo’s face fell to the side timidly. Then out of nowhere, Dead Ringer’s nose detected a spike of emotion from her, but it vanished as quickly as it came before he could register what it was. Also just as quickly came Scootaloo’s newfound energy, as she was all of a sudden grinning.

“Oh, you know,” she said forcefully in stride, similar to what Apple Bloom did to Applejack and Rarity earlier. “Found out I’ve got to deal with Family Appreciation Day, caught a changeling in our clubhouse, and almost got eaten by wooden dogs.” She shrugged. “All in all, just your typical day in Ponyville.”

She considers this typical?! Dead Ringer’s brow rose. Just what kind of settlement is this?

Apple Bloom sighed quietly. Again with the vague responses and dodging the question. She wanted to poke at it more, but Apple Bloom wasn’t foolish. She wouldn’t say she was the brightest bulb in the ceiling, but she certainly wasn’t foolish. Scootaloo was a proud pony. Too proud for her own good.

Sadly, she didn’t have the time to linger on this any further. The moon would be up soon, and Applejack’s patience only lasted for so long.

“Okay.” Apple Bloom turned for the door. Placing her hoof on it, she glanced over her shoulder at the two remaining figures in the room. The two strange mysteries.

“You both take care now.”

Dead Ringer and Scootaloo quietly nodded affirmatively. Both of them could tell there was something more to that statement, but none of them could figure out what.

Feeling that was all she could do for the now, Apple Bloom took off, making sure to shut the door behind her before heading for home.

Back inside, Scootaloo’s eyes narrowed as she stared Dead Ringer down, taking a battle stance as if she was preparing for a fight.

“Okay buddy, listen up,” she warned as she approached him. “Don’t think that just because of what happened back at that forest, as cool as it was, I’m about to outright trust you. Because I don’t,” she emphasized ‘don’t.’

Dead Ringer made what could only be described as a bug-like snort as he muttered, “Say what you will,” a malevolent smile curled at the back of his lips as he spat insultingly, “pegasus.”

Not looking fazed by it, Scootaloo continued. “Just remember,” she pointed at him to highlight her warning. “I’m doing this for my friends. That’s it!”

Dead Ringer’s smile did not last as his eyes narrowed into a bitter scowl, all the while remaining eerily calm as Scootaloo continued.

“You keep up your end of the deal, and I’ll keep up my end. Got it?”

Dead Ringer held back his response as his mind swallowed Scootaloo’s words. This day had left him with a number of questions, but there was only one he felt the need to voice now.

“If this is how you feel, then why didn’t you just leave me when you had the chance?”

She clearly didn’t want him here, and like her, he didn’t want to be here. But also like her, his mind was drawn back to what happened at that forest.

When he was down and injured, she and her friends had a chance to save themselves and leave. Yet – despite his orders – they risked their lives to aid him. To ensure he was safe. That whole incident contradicted every action Scootaloo displayed since they met again this morning.

As Dead Ringer contemplated these events, he started to realize that Scootaloo still hadn’t answered. Concentrating back on her, he noticed that she now was avoiding his gaze, her head remaining lowered, all the while keeping a bitter expression.

“Well?” Dead Ringer asked, still waiting for his answer.

“Because,” Scootaloo explained bluntly, still refusing to look at him, “that wouldn’t have been right.”

Dead Ringer’s eyes shifted a little as his anger was replaced by confusion.

Scootaloo raised her head, but still kept her gaze away from the changeling. “I won’t let my feelings distract me from what’s right.” Scootaloo knew she was a lot of things. Impatient? Kind of. Proud? Most definitely. Cruel? Never.

Even if this time Dead Ringer’s endangerment wasn’t her fault, she couldn’t leave him there, especially after what he went through to protect them. No matter what feelings of anger he stimulated in her, she had to respect that.

She didn’t like him. She didn’t trust him. But she respected that he kept his promise and protected her friends. Did that mean that she respected him?

No. However, she would go as far as to say she respected what he did.

Dead Ringer continued to stare inquisitively at Scootaloo and her words. Her words reminded him of a different time. A better time, when he was younger. But also when he was foolish! His look did not last, as it was replaced by a new scowl of bitterness.

“Hmph!” he grunted. “As noble as that sounds, a youth like you should learn better than to bring the standards of right and wrong into survival,” he chastised.

Scootaloo looked at him, his words bringing anger to her face. Dead Ringer saw this, but still continued with words she needed to hear. If anything, he was doing her a favor. After all, these were the words every changeling knew and lived by. It was what kept their race going this long. The same words Chrysalis gave to all her subjects. And words he had to learn the hard way.

“In survival, there is no right and wrong. Just ensuring a future. By any means.” His voice then softened as he finished, “Remember that.”

Scootaloo would, but she didn’t like it.

“In any case,” Dead Ringer said, changing the subject, “this negative attitude you’ve displayed towards me has not gone unnoticed. And as of now,” he lowered to her eye level, glaring with anger. “I’m starting to get sick of it.” Scootaloo just glared back, locking eyes with him.

“Whatever your reasons are for despising me, child, I neither know nor care. But for the sake of your…” Dead Ringer paused just like he did before when using this word; a word he could not believe he was using again, “… friends,” he grinded his teeth while hissing in disgust, “and my continued occupation here. I believe we should agree to a temporary truce of synergy.”

Scootaloo blinked. Dead Ringer’s heavy choice of words had flown right over her head. “Wha?” she asked, turning her head.

Dead Ringer snarled annoyingly as he approached her. Despite how antagonizing Dead Ringer was acting, Scootaloo was standing her ground better than yesterday. Of this he noted, but it did little to suppress his growing anger. “It means for my remainder here, I shall respect your right to exist and will agree to work with your companions peacefully, provided you agree to the same.”

Scootaloo closed the gap between them, her eyes narrowing further. The two were mere inches away from one another. “Fine then, we’re agreed,” she responded coldly. “We both play nice, no one gets hurt, and we can all pretend like this never happened when it’s over.”

Dead Ringer somberly nodded. “Indeed.”

“Just remember this,” Scootaloo noted. “Once you're healed, I want you out of this town, and out of mine and my friends lives.”

“Fine!”

“FINE!” Scootaloo snapped back. Having enough, she whirled around and made her way out, making sure to slam the door in a dramatic fashion and leaving Dead Ringer glaring at it.

The door all of a sudden reopened as an annoyed looking Scootaloo stomped in, looking less than pleased to be back after just exiting.

“Forgot a book!” she exclaimed with agitation, not even bothering to look at a slightly surprised Dead Ringer as she bitterly trudged passed him to the stack of advanced literature.

The things she did out of loyalty for her friends.

Grabbing a random book without so much as looking at it, Scootaloo stormed out once again, slamming the door shut. This time there was no return. Dead Ringer was now the only remaining soul left in the clubhouse.

Sure that she wasn’t coming back, he turned his attention to the nearby mirror on the wall. He might as well try and get a better look at the damage on his form.

It was rare whenever he got a chance to see what he really looked like. This time however, was different from last. He was left startled by what he saw in his reflection.

He was quite the mess. A damp leaf wrapped around his damaged wing, while a now damp cloth wrapped around his leg. And yet the thing that startled him most? He almost forgot that was himself in the mirror.

“Where did I go?”

How did this happen? One day he was wearing armor and giving orders, the next he’s the student to three burdensome fillies and almost unrecognizable to himself.

Taking a deep breath he calmed himself before he stressed out any further. He knew he had to be strong. His wounds would heal soon, and when they did, he would hopefully have what he needed to put his plans into motion.

Whether it was luck or the stars above smiling upon him, he didn’t know, but good fortune was starting to find him. It was enough to make a leering smile creep up on the edges of his face.

He was in a settlement with not one, but three Element Bearers of Harmony. Perhaps more even?

THUD!

His thoughts were stopped as he was interrupted by an abrupt noise from outside. Going to investigate, Dead Ringer approached the window as he searched for the source of the disturbance outside.

On the ground below was the little filly known as Scootaloo, staring up at a large tree before her. Charging, she leaped onto the large sapling, only to lose her grip and fall flat on her back.

Groaning out loud she picked herself back up and went for another try. She had to calm down. Had to focus. She couldn’t let her anger distract her.

Making another go, she this time succeeded. Pushing all her strength into her legs she started climbing up. Occasionally fluttering her wings to help add momentum to ensure she didn’t fall off.

Reaching the top she carefully slinked to the ends of branch, reaching out to collect the red fruits that dangled from them.

Watching the whole scene unfold, Dead Ringer had only one question: “Why don’t you fly?” he asked out loud, but not so loud that she was able to hear him. She was a pegasus after all, so why not fly? For that matter, why was she even here?

After gathering as much as her forelegs were going to carry, it was time to make her way down. Looking at how high up she was, Scootaloo cringed. She always hated this part.

With a gulp, she mentally prepared herself for what would follow next. Holding onto the literal fruits of her labor Scootaloo jumped from the tree.

“OW!”

She cried as she landed on her bum. Standing up, the poor flyer started dusting herself off, all the while groaning to herself as she did. It wasn’t out of pain however, it was more out of annoyance. She’d figured after doing this so many times it be easier by now. Or her wings would’ve strengthened to help her fall slower and soften the landing. Whatever the case, she got what she came for.

Tossing the apples into the wagon where the book resided, she hopped onto her scooter and disappeared into the darkness of the trees, headed for Ponyville.

The silent soldier remained glued to the window, his unwavering gaze focused on the spot where Scootaloo once was.

Ponies should be easy to figure. With all he knew of Equestrians – well, what he thought he knew – their minds and personas should be understandable. Advanced creatures of love; living out their days in utter happiness and bliss. All about spreading love, tolerance, and all that good muck that made his insides turn with disgust.

So why was this filly so confusing to him? Was there something wrong with her? Perhaps she was defective? Not well even?

“Hmph!” Dead Ringer grunted as he turned away from the window. It did not matter. She wasn’t his concern. He wasn’t here to figure her out; he was here for his mission. His revenge. His retribution.

The event in the forest put things on a minor setback, but he wouldn’t let a damaged wing or a wounded leg slow him down, nor these strange ‘emotions’ that had been emerging in him. These wrong emotions.

Worry…

Mirth…

Confusion…

Sadness…

These were not emotions an adult changeling should feel in a single day. It wasn’t normal, especially for a warrior class like himself.

So, why did he? The average changeling feels at least one emotion in a short given day. Two at the most, dependent on they’re personality or event.

A yawn escaped his jaw as his fatigued state started to affect him. He definitely needed his rest now.

Finding a nice spot to lie in the center, Dead Ringer tried his best to make himself comfortable, an act that proved difficult given the wooden floorboards.

After some fidgeting and adjustment, he found a reasonably comfortable position to sleep in curled up on the floor. He was just about to close his eyes until a white light illuminated the room, and with it stole Dead Ringer’s gaze.

Forgetting about sleep, Dead Ringer instantly got up. Silently cursing to himself as he struggled to sit up. With all that’s happened since he first left his colony, he’s missed this chance so many nights.

Remaining seated to the floor he looked up at the round glowing ball in the sky, and the glowing orbs called stars that surrounded it.

Growing up underground, there weren’t many things to be considered beautiful. Despite the drones’ best attempts to make the underground tolerable, it was all just layers upon layers of rock and florescent lights from the gems that encrusted the rocks. The surface above didn’t fare much better either. It was a canyon, after all.

The closest thing was the Queen’s castle. Even then, it was only open to her and her personal guards alone. Even Dead Ringer didn’t know the full layout of it. Just the few areas the Queen and her elite guards allowed him and those he escorted to venture through, which was only her throne room.

So while the ground below offered little in terms of splendor, the sky above was a different story. Only at night however.

When rogue clouds weren’t blocking them, the stars offered interesting patterns to stare and wonder at, and the moon was a perfect form of light that offered a unique and interesting form of illumination at dark.

It was strange when he thought about it. Here he was in another land, in a completely new environment, and yet the moon remained exactly where it always was: in the sky looking down at all of the worlds’ creatures.

There was only one moon to look up to, but over millions of creatures for it to look down on. It was on this night as well that many took the time to enjoy it. Many in Equestria and beyond took the time to look up at Luna’s illustrious orb of the night, if only for a moment. While in the back of their minds, their own problems lingered there like a dense fog in the night.