“If this is some kind of joke, I do not find it funny,” Turrok deadpanned.
“I have too much to do to waste it on comedy,” Kara retorted, looking out the window. “I am a ‘ling of little time right now. Do you want to be free or not?”
“Wait. What would I have to do? I’m not following along blindly.”
“No time to explain, now. If you are really interested I can return later when there are less changelings to hear.”
“Fine, but you better not be wasting my time.”
“Ha, implying you have any time to waste, good day to you.”
“To you as well.”
And, as quickly as Kara appeared, she was gone again. That changeling was a mysterious one, that was for sure. But her arrival brought many more questions than he could have ever wanted.
Could he really be free again?
Did he even want to be?
What would this freedom cost him?
These were but a few of them, and answers would have to wait until Kara returned. It’s not like he didn’t have other things that could occupy his brain.
Like the fact that the universe couldn’t just let him live simply. He never was one to seek out anything very grand or ambitious. The gods seemed it more fitting to throw him into these situations where his life was plagued by uncertainty. Especially now that he had finally decided to turn and face the enemies that sought him.
There was something poetic about it. The son of a noble tossed into war and persecuted for refusing to fight it. Dying for his beliefs, and turning into a symbol of hope for the future.
But no, now it was fitting to dangle the key to his cage out in front of him, as if it were a bone and he a mere dog.
But if that wasn’t enough of an insult by the Cosmos, he would receive an even bigger insult from the mockery of going back out to Equestria. If he didn’t go back to Ponyville immediately he would most certainly be dragged back there the second anypony there found out. It was painfully obvious that he would be berated for trying to just get himself killed without any of them getting a say in it.
But two ponies would hold this over him longer than any of the others. Rarity would probably remind him at any given opportunity and so would her little sister.
Of course that filly would use it as a guilt trip to get him to help her and those friends of hers. Like those puppy eyes weren’t sufficient.
Turrok would never forget the first time she used that look on him.
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As if the world knew that Turrok was having a pleasant dream, he was awoken by the sound of metal clanging.
His eyes snapped open as he sat upright in his bed. Shaken by a noise that so thoroughly pulled him from his slumber.
A quick look out the window showed that the sun had only just risen. After her working binge last night, he didn’t think Rarity would be able to get up so early. Regardless, she probably was going to need help if that noise came from an attempt to make some coffee.
With a grunt, the changeling climbed out from under his covers and stepped onto the cold, wood floor. After stretching out for a moment, he worked his way out of his room and stopped at the stairs.
You won’t get me this time.
He fired up his wings and lept over the offending structure before sticking the landing. Unfortunately, his small victory was short lived.
Just to his right, a white, unicorn filly was staring at him with eyes as wide as dinner plates. One scream and he could see an angry mob breaking the door down in seconds.
“Okay, I know this looks bad. But let me explain!” the changling pleaded.
“W-what are you doing here!? W-where’s R-Rarity!?” the filly squeaked.
“She’s fine I swear!” He paused for a moment to let his panic subside. “She is upstairs, most likely asleep.” Even though the changling appeared calm on the outside, inside he could feel his heart thumping loudly in his chest. But such is a natural response when your life is in the hooves of a foal.
“You promise?” She asked skeptically, an eyebrow raised incredulously.
“I promise. She’s in her room.” He put a hoof over his rapidly beating heart.
“Okay, I believe you… for now. But I want to talk my big sister about this.”
Wait... Big sister? Oh right! She has a little sister. What did she say her name was? Sweet Pea? No. Silver Bell? Closer but no. Sweetie Pie? Sounds like a relative of Pinkie… Sweetie Belle! Ha! Fourth time is lucky I suppose.
“Of course Sweetie Belle,” he said as calmly as possible. “When she wakes up she will explain everything.”
“How… how do you know my name?” The filly asked shakily, keeping as much distance between herself and the changeling as possible.
“You kidding?” Turrok smirked. “She talks about you quite often.”
“What does she say about me?” Sweetie Belle leaned forward a little, her curiosity showing.
“Oh just about you and your friends and how you all try to find your cutie marks.”
“Oh,” he excited expression immediately deflated. “Like all of the times we messed up?”
“Well… yes.” That deflated expression started to border heartbroken. “But she also told me something else.”
“W-what was that?”
“Rarity told me that it was only a matter of time before you found that special talent. That determination to find it is something that she admires and tries to capture in her own work.”
“She really said that?”
“Yes she did. You’re lucky to have a big sister like that.”
“Yeah, she is a great sister. But, why is she still asleep? She’s usually working by the time I get here.”
“Well… you see… last night she experienced an ‘inspirational epiphany’ or something to that effect and was adamant about continuing her work. If it weren’t for me she would have collapsed in her inspiration room or worse, worked through the night and crashed in the morning.”
“That’s my sister all right. She loves her designs and fashion a lot. But, who are you? And what are you doing here?”
“My name is Turrok. And why I am here… that is a long and complicated story.”
“You’re not Rarity’s coltfriend, are you?”
“No, no, no. Nothing like that I promise you. It’s a bit more complex than that.”
“Oh, well can you tell me?” Her request would have been granted if not for the sounds of Turrok’s stomach.
“After breakfast, Sweetie Belle,” He chuckled.
Once the changling walked into the kitchen, he saw a pile of kitchenware sitting on the floor.
“Was this the source of that noise earlier?”
“Um… maybe?” she answered sheepishly.
“Well,” he sighed, “accidents happen. Let’s get this picked up and get some breakfast. Now I’m not the best cook, but I can make some decent pancakes and scrambled eggs if that sounds good.”
Before the filly could say anything, her stomach decided to speak for her.
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
With that, Turrok waved for Sweetie Belle to follow him into the kitchen. They scrubbed the pots and pans that had been unceremoniously dumped all over the kitchen floor. He ran each piece of dishware through the sink, scrubbing each with a soapy sponge before rinsing it off and passing off to his helper to dry them off and stack them neatly on the counter.
Once all of the dishes were clean, the changeling gathered various ingredients for breakfast. Fresh eggs, flour, baking powder, butter, milk, sugar and salt. A large bowl was filled each ingredient and mixed thoroughly. Two pans were set on the stove above a low blue flame and covered in a thin layer of oil. One had a small amount of butter melting in it
While waiting for the pans to heat up, the cook began whisking eggs in a separate bowl with some milk. He couldn’t help noticing Sweetie watching with rapt attention. Once the melted butter was hot enough and the eggs reduced to a pale yellow liquid, Turrok added the eggs to the pan and let them cook.
With the eggs cooking, the changeling took the flour, baking powder, milk, egg and melted butter into the mixing bowl. The contents were turned into a thick batter. Some of the batter was then poured into the pan to form a decently sized circle.
With the pancake cooking, the changeling turned his attention to the eggs. He took a spatula from the drawer and stirred the eggs in the pan.
He turned his head to see the filly had moved a few feet closer and continued to watch him. Turrok couldn’t help noticing how cute she was being. But he didn’t let her distract himself too much to neglect the stove. Speaking of which, it looked like the pancake was ready to flip. He enjoyed this part of cooking.
He gripped the handle in a faint green aura and took a deep breath. The pan was flung upward, launching the flapjack in the air. One... two... three flips! It landed in the pan face down. The changeling couldn’t help smiling, and the look on Sweetie Belle’s face only helped increase his pride.
“That was amazing!” the filly cried.
“I suppose it was a little bit impressive,” Turrok agreed.
“Are you kidding!? I wish I could cook like that!”
“Well… would you want to give it a try?” the changeling asked.
“Really? You would let me try?”
“Sure, who knows? You might get your Cutie Mark in cooking.”
“Yeah… I could get my Cutie Mark!”
“Well here, why don’t you don’t try?” He took a chair and put it in front of the stove and motioned for the filly to stand on it.
Sweetie Belle darted up on the chair and gave Turrok a confident nod.
“Okay, what you want to do is focus on the handle with your horn. Once you have a good grip, you are going to want to fling the pan straight up a short distance. After that it’s just making sure the pancake lands back in the pan flat. Think you can do that?”
“Sure, doesn’t sound too hard.”
“Alright, let’s see what you got.”
Sweetie stared at the pan, her horn emanating a green light. It was similar to the changeling’s magic. When the handle began giving off the same glow, he knew she was ready. The pan went up and the pancake was tossed in the air.
But instead of going straight up, she lifted it at an angle. The flapjack was sent flying to the other side of the room.
Acting quickly, Turrok grabbed a plate off the counter and leapt after the runaway hotcake. His wings buzzed quickly as he sped to the other end of the room to intercept it.
He managed to save it, at the cost of experiencing some trauma. Once the pancake was secure, he slid back and felt his skull impact the wall.
“Are you okay, Turrok!?” Sweetie shouted.
He rubbed the back of his skull, shaking his head and trying to alleviate the ache that was quickly forming.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” he groaned. “I could use an ice pack, though.”
“There’s one in the freezer.” The filly pushed the chair in front of the refrigerator, hopped on top of it and pulled out a small bag of ice. “I got it.” She hopped down and placed the ice pack against the back of the changeling’s head.
“Thanks, Sweetie Belle.” He held the pack in place as he stood back up.
“Why are you thanking me?” she questioned. “I was the one who caused it in the first place.”
“Like I said, accidents happen, right? You didn’t mean any harm and nothing too bad happened. And hey, the pancake is safe too. See?” He lifted the plate up to show the golden cake was unharmed.
“I guess. But this is why my big sister never lets me try to cook,” she sighed. It was clear that Turrok was going to need to try harder to cheer her up.
“So you messed up once. That doesn’t mean you can’t try again, does it?”
“No… I think?” she replied, with a confused look on her face.
The changeling crouched down. “What I meant was, even if somepony fails at something they can always keep trying. But we should have breakfast, sound good?”
“Sure,” Sweetie shrugged.
“Turrok, I know I said make yourself at home but I didn’t expect you to be so—” Rarity failed to finish her sentence as she entered the kitchen.
“Sorry Rarity,” the filly apologized. “It was an accident.”
“Sweetie Belle?” the mare rubbed her eyes. “What are you doing here?”
“Mom and dad dropped me off before going on vacation,” the filly explained.
“That was today!?” the mare exclaimed. “Oh Celestia I’m sorry, it completely slipped my mind.”
“That’s not all you should be sorry about,” Sweetie explained sullenly. “I thought sisters told each other everything.”
“Look, I can explain,” Rarity defended.
“Really?” the younger sister scoffed. “How do you explain hiding the fact that you’ve had a special somepony and didn’t tell me?” She pointed an accusatory hoof toward the changeling in the kichen.
“Special somepony?” Her face turned slightly red, before shaking her head quickly. “Oh… no no no, no. Turrok is not my special somepony.”
“Then why is he here?” Sweetie pressed with a raised eyebrow.
“That is a long story, unfortunately,” Rarity sighed, rubbing her temple with her hoof.
“I’m not doing anything right now,” she replied.
“Actually, why don’t we have breakfast first?” Turrok suggested, gesturing to the prepared meal on the table.
“Fine,” the filly agreed begrudgingly. “But I will find out one way or another after breakfast.”
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That she did, even if the puppy dog eyes were overkill.