//------------------------------// // I. // Story: Abruption // by TracTix //------------------------------// “Thanks, mister!” Clinging onto their bags of candy, the two fillies waved goodbye to Corvus as they left. They rejoined a gruff-looking stallion who had waited on the sidewalk. Corvus waved back from inside his doorway. “Have a good night, you two.” He glanced at the clock on the wall beside him. The short hand pointed towards ten, the longer one somewhere between three and four. All the colts and fillies must be heading back home right now with their parents. Those two fillies were probably the last visitors Corvus would have tonight. A little regretfully, Corvus closed the door, a soft click resounding as he turned the deadbolt. Then he hustled over to his window and yanked on the cord of the blinds. A white sheet descended, blocking the view of the street outside. Corvus did the same for the other windows around him. The ones upstairs, he had taken care of already. He did a final check of his house. Satisfied that everything was in place, he closed his eyes for a brief moment, and, with a flash of greenish light, uncloaked. Corvus raised a hoof, relishing the look of his smooth, black, holed hoof; his real hoof, not some weird hairy disguise. His cloak did a fine job of letting him blend in among the ponies, but it was also a constant reminder of him being the minority in this place. It felt good to exist in his true form for a little bit. “Breaking the rules again, eh?” Corvus whirled around. A reddish-brown pony stood at the base of his staircase, glaring at him. But instead of running for cover or attacking the pony, Corvus simply gave a loud sigh and glared back. “For Queen’s sake, Sicarius, stop doing that! That’s the second time this week!” The pony – what looked like a pony – raised an eyebrow. “Is it? I’d expect you to be a little less surprised, then.” “Everyone knows how great you are at getting past locked doors and windows and whatnot. But if we wanted a demonstration, we’d ask for it,” said Corvus. “At least save it for when we really need it, okay?” Sicarius shrugged. He pointed a hoof at Corvus. “You’re uncloaked,” he said, a bit redundantly. Corvus frowned. “I know we’re supposed to stay in character all the time, but...just this one time. I need to see something that’s normal for once.” He examined one of his hooves for emphasis. Sicarius shook his head disapprovingly. “I get that urge too sometimes, but do you see me walking around uncloaked? What if a pony decided to peek in at this very moment? What would you do then?” Corvus motioned at the windows. “Didn’t you see the blinds?” “I did,” Sicarius replied. “And I also know that blinds only half-conceal bright flashes of light, like when you uncloak…” He trailed off, letting Corvus finish the thought. Corvus surrendered. “All right, all right. I’ll cloak as soon as I can.” “In a concealed location?” Sicarius asked. “Yes, in a concealed location,” Corvus said. Sicarius nodded in approval, but the other changeling wasn’t finished yet. “There’s also something else I need to talk about with you.” Corvus let himself fall onto his sofa. “Okay. Go on.” “Well…” Sicarius paused, biting his lip a little. Then he sat down as well as he began to talk. “Look, Corvus, I don’t know how to put this gently, so I’m just going to be honest. Queen Evora is starting to have – ahem – doubts about you.” “Doubts?” Corvus felt a trace of fear shoot through him. “For what reason?” “She’s beginning to think you’re a liability to the operation,” Sicarius said. “You’ve ‘made too many mistakes’, according to her. Like, for example, being uncloaked right now.” Corvus felt his face grow hot. “Being uncloaked pales in comparison to what she complained about, though,” Sicarius went on. “What…what did she complain about?” Sicarius gave Corvus an unimpressed look. “Acting oblivious isn’t helping your cause. You know well and clear what her concerns were over.” Corvus rubbed the back of his neck. “I thought I already explained this to you and Evora and Acrisius! It’s not my fault that pony survived! Some other pony was protecting them that night.” “And the others?” Sicarius challenged. “What happened the night after that, and the night after that?” Corvus couldn’t find an answer that didn’t sound like a weak excuse. His silence did the talking for him. Sicarius leaned forward. “Corvus, you may find it harder to kill as easily as the rest of us. At least you’ve tried to do it. I can’t take away credit there. But if you keep on like this, something’s bound to go wrong eventually. We’re only as strong as our weakest link, Corvus. And right now, that link is you.” Sicarius stood up. Corvus stayed where he was, fascinated by a scratch in the wall. “It’s your choice,” Sicarius said. “Start doing more for the Hive, or continue putting all of us at risk.” He walked to the staircase. “I’ll see myself out.” Sicarius strode up the stairs, disappearing from Corvus’s view. He heard the sound of a window being slid open. After a few seconds, a dull thump came from outside, probably from the other changeling landing on the ground. Silence returned to the house. Corvus stayed on the sofa for a few more minutes. Then, after deciding that stewing in his displeasure was doing nothing, he forced himself up and onto his hooves. Was Sicarius right? Was he a ‘liability’ for the entire group? It was true that he found it harder to take the lives of ponies, but that was more due to attitude than an actual incapability. He just didn’t see the point in killing the ponies. Yes, some of them were pretty big threats to the changelings, and for those ponies, Corvus had no qualms about seeing them dead. They would, after all, do the same thing to him and his comrades if they discovered them. But for the typical ponies? The ones who simply tried to get by, wishing their lives would maintain a semblance of normality? Those were the ones Corvus didn’t wish to harm. In his eyes, they did nothing to deserve the swift death by neurotoxin changeling fangs deliver, other than being born a pony. Corvus marched up the stairs. Yes, that was where the issue lay. Had he been ordered to eliminate more important ponies – say, the town’s Mayor West – he would have done so without any regret. But those targets usually had plenty of defenses against would-be attackers. Reinforced doors, barred windows, and even bodyguards would be protecting them. As a result, only changelings like Sicarius got to go after important targets – leaving the normal, hapless ones to the likes of Corvus. Corvus reached the top of the stairs. Turning left, he entered what ponies called a ‘bedroom’, appropriately named after the bed that took up half the space inside it. Corvus squeezed into the room’s closet, sliding the door shut behind him. He blinked as his eyes adjusted to the sudden darkness. Then he shut them completely as green light flashed, and adopted his pony disguise once again. He exited the closet, eyeing the bed with reluctance. Even after multiple nights hiding among the ponies, Corvus still found the bed odd and uncomfortable. Its fabric and textures were completely alien to him. Corvus greatly preferred sleeping in a cocoon that molded around his body and contained nutrient-rich fluids for his body to absorb overnight. But those were out of the question here. So, he had to make do with the bed. Corvus settled in, trying to make himself as comfortable as possible underneath the quilt. Closing his eyes, he let sleep wash over him.