//------------------------------//
// Treason of the Mind 
// Story: The Artificer 
// by Rennoc215 
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	Twilight fell backwards, crashing into a pile of scrap parts, scattering dented plates and shredded vents. Green Physiology, Twilight thought with shock. Her mind continued down the path that her out of control train was taking. Their bodies, though they have dark exteriors, are neon green on the inside, due to the high presences of copper and magically active krypton. Their internal organs share numerous similarities to our own, in order to aid with infiltration. After a few more moments of silent contemplation, the train came rolling into the station, freezing Twilight in place. Changeling. These belong to a changeling.
That's when the thought came, unbidden, to her mind. Cog... is a changeling. Though it terrified her, her logical mind had connected the dots, and she was certain of it, unwaveringly. The implications were staggering, and Twilight flashed back to memories of the wedding, and how vicious the changelings had acted then: like brutal, vicious predators, out only to do harm.
Twilight turned and ran, not pausing to look back, plowing through piles of junk, sending bits and pieces clanking away. It seemed that the more desperate she became to leave, the harder it was to walk away. Soon, she found herself rooted to the floor, and she looked down in pure terror, as she saw that her hooves had been covered in a soft green goo. When she pulled, it only got harder, and she was immobilized.
"It's psycho-active," came a whisper, and Twilight nearly jumped out of her skin in surprise. "The goo, it's psycho-active. Calm down, and it will let go." Why should I trust the wind, her mind asked, but it was too late. Something about the voice had caught her off guard. The... familiarity of it is what lowered her guard, and she sighed in the thought of the comfort familiarity brings.
Twilight took a deep breath, and willed her heart to slow down. After another minute, her heart had returned to a calm thump-thump, and her breathing had steadied as well. She looked down, and true to the voice's word, the goop had begun to liquify, the dark green slurry sliding slowly off her hooves. "Good, good," the wind whispered, before sighing. "Best be on your way, then. Just take it nice and slow."
She whispered a soft "Thank you," and then proceeded to carefully leave, making sure not to let her mind settle on what was hidden away within the shack. It was as she was leaving, however, that her mind began to contradict itself. If he really was a danger, she rationalized, why would he let me go? To that, she had no answer.
And if there is anything Twilight can't live without, it's knowledge. Sucking in deeply, Twilight mustered her courage, and returned to the cottage behind her. Gently as she could, she pushed the door open, and crept back in. "He..." She started, before she heard a loud groan, and the clanking of machinery. She swiveled her ears, trying to lock onto the source of the sound. All was silent for a few moments, and then she heard it: a faint breathing, soft, and arrhythmic.
Slowly, she crept over, her emotions suppressed as she trotted through the goop coating the floor, fighting down a wave of revulsion. "No!" her mind shouted. "This is wrong! It's like a mouse willingly crawling into a snake's lair." She shook her head, tired of her traitorous conscious trying to shoo her away from an untapped reservoir of knowledge.
She leaned her ear up against the door, and sure enough, just beyond the thin layer of wood was the source of the breathing. Grinning, she began to turn the doorknob, when she felt the knob seize up, and the locking mechanism click into place. "Horseapples," Twilight whispered under her breath. She jimmied the knob a touch, trying so hard to open the door, but when another lock clicked, she sighed. Her chances of opening that door were diminishing by the minute. Suddenly, a memory came unbidden to her mind, and she smirked as she realized why Celestia had taught her so extremely...





"Twilight, we have ourselves an open ended problem today," Princess Celestia said, looking down at the patient purple filly beneath her hooves.
"Oh?" Twilight asked, curious as to what her newest challenge would be.
"Smarty pants, here," Celestia said, floating Twilight's favored toy above them, "has gotten herself in a bit of a pickle." Celestia finished, teleporting the doll away. "Smarty Pants got locked in the room before us," Celestia continued, the lock on the door clicking shut. "How do you get her out?"
Twilight bit her lip, looking at the massive door before her. She paced for a bit, and probed the door with a few spells, before a light bulb went off. Laying down, Twilight laid her head on the ground, and peered into the dark room from under the door. She solidified the destination in her mind, and focused. Teleportation was still new to her, but she had enough of the kinks worked out, and with a triumphant grin, she teleported beyond the door.
There, on the shelf, was her beloved doll. Twilight reached up for it, and as she embraced her once-favorite plaything, the memory vanished.





Grinning, much like she did on the day of the challenge, Twilight pressed her head to the floor, peered under the door, and then blinked her way inside.
She certainly wasn't expecting what she saw.