//------------------------------// // Appearances // Story: Five Changelings In Equestria: The Sixth Path // by Bucking Nonsense //------------------------------// "You're used to dealing with younger ponies, I take it?" Gravy chuckled as he dug into a bowl of vegetable soup. Trixie hadn't been kidding when she said that she had enough ingredients for a vegetable soup. Combined with a few items from Gravy's own substantial stores, and a few items from his spice rack, and the result had turned out to be both flavorful and aromatic. Much better than what he normally ate on the road. Eating with the mask on was tricky, but... well, he had reasons for wanting to keep his face covered. Too many assumptions could be made, especially once they reached the Crystal Empire... He, Trixie, and Elle were seated around a small campfire, each one eating their supper. Well, he and Trixie were eating. Elle was not, although Biscuits, like a typical monkey, was cheerfully helping himself to the filly's bowl. Gravy filed that little tidbit of information away for future reference. He'd already determined that the young filly, or perhaps he should say 'filly', was not normal. That much was obvious. What the jester had quickly determined, however, was that she wasn't simply 'not-normal' for a filly, but 'not-normal' period. However, it really wasn't Gravy's business what Elle really was. Trixie seemed to have things well in hoof, so the last thing this situation needed was Gravy butting his head into things. Clearing his throat and nodding, Gravy admitted, "A keen observation. Yeah. When I was younger, I had a bit of a breakdown. I... went too far into numbers, to the exclusion of everything else. Not a good idea. I... might have gone a little loony for a bit. After I received a bit of assistance, it was recommended that I try teaching mathematics to others, rather than just spending all day in front of a chalkboard crunching numbers. It turns out that my special talent including being able to teach mathematics to young ponies." An eyebrow raised, Trixie noted, "You seem a little bit young to be a teacher." Gravy said, without preamble, "I received my doctorate in mathematics when I was eight years old." At Trixie's dropped jaw, the 'jester' chuckled behind his mask and added, "Like I said, when I found out what my special talent was, I went at it with a will. Too much of a will, to be honest with you. I almost burned myself out completely at the ripe old age of eleven." He sighed and shook his head. After a moment, he gave a small laugh and continued, "Still, a twelve year old trying to teach a classroom full of children the basics of mathematics was a bit of a sight. It was a rocky start at first, but it turned out pretty well, all things considered." Trixie, strangely enough, looked over at Elle for a moment, then back at Gravy, and asked, "Have you ever run into any other... prodigies like yourself?" Shrugging, Gravy admitted, "Not really, no. I've encountered some bright ponies in my time, but none of them who were quite as... intensely motivated as I was. I did try to keep my eyes open for one of course, but the odds of running into one would be the same as being struck by lightening. Twice. In a row. On a clear, sunny day." "Any advice you'd want to give to one?" Trixie cleared her throat, then added, "If you ran into one, I mean?" The jester thought for a moment, then admitted, "Take the time to stop and smell the roses. Go out, make friends, or just roll around in the grass and laugh. The world won't fall apart just because you took a little time off to be happy." Surprisingly, Elle said, "Affirmative." She then stood up, walked over to a nearby patch of grass, then began rolling around on it, making dull little 'ha' sounds every few seconds. Biscuits, at first surprised at the filly's sudden actions, immediately joined her with enthusiasm. Strange girl, that one, but Gravy couldn't help but like her. ------------------------------------------ A few hours later... Trixie woke to a sudden noise. Raising her head, she saw that Elle had gotten out of her bedding on the floor of the cart. Thankfully, Gravy had turned out to have more than enough blankets and pillows to spare, so that the disguised changeling had a bed to herself. Not that Trixie had minded sharing a bed, but changelings, the stage magician had learned, were rather solid, and pointy, making the experience a challenging one. Clearing her throat, the mare asked, "What are you doing, Elle?" "I am thirsty," Elle said bluntly, "I am going to get a drink of water. I will return shortly." Nodding, Trixie said, "Okay." Snuggling back into her blankets, the show-mare went back to sleep. It had not occurred to her, before she drifted off, that Elle was not currently in disguise... ----------------------------------------- Elle had been given a great deal to digest in the last forty-eight hours. So much so, in fact, that she had found herself unable to sleep, her mind a chaotic tumble of thoughts, and perhaps more importantly, feelings. Trixie's order to set aside all past orders had, in a way, taken away the foundation of her young life. And yet... And yet, she didn't dislike it. It was strangely... liberating. For the first time in her life, she was free. And freedom, she found, was both terrifying... and exhilarating. Leiurus Quinquestriatus, the Deathstalker, child prodigy magic user of the changeling hive, and designated living weapon of the swarm, could, if she so chose, fly to Canterlot Castle, burst into the throne room, and 'boop' both Princess Luna and Princess Celestia on the nose. She could roller-skate in their grand ballroom (After she learned to roller-skate, of course). She could paint herself pink with purple polka dots and run through the streets of Canterlot while shouting 'I'm being silly and nopony can stop me!' There were no rules saying she could not, and it was likely that nopony really would try and stop her. With the orders that formed the framework of her behavior gone, the only limits were her imagination and her endurance... Sadly, given that she had spent three weeks without rest and was still recovering strength, her endurance was severely limited. And her imagination... well, it seemed it was still needing some time to get out and stretch out its legs. Still, if the thoughts that had just rumbled through her mind were any indication, it was starting to wake up for the first time since she was two-and-a-half... before her father had told her to put a stop to imagining things... Elle was new to experiencing emotions, but she was pretty sure that the emotion that she associated with her father was hate. Yes, that was it. Hatred. Hatred that burned with heat like unto the fiery furnace, neigh, the volcano eruptant, neigh, THE MOLTEN BASALT OF CREATION!!! RAAAARGH!!! HATE HATE HATE!!! MAKE HIM PAY!!! MAKE HIM PAY FOREVER!!! OR LONGER!!! MAKE A WAY FOR FOREVER TO LAST LONGER SO HE CAN PAY EVEN MORE!!! HATE!!! HATE!!! HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAATE!!! ...Okay, wow, she'd have to learn to keep a lid on that. That kind of anger could not possibly be healthy, especially for a five year old. Looking over at the small pond, Elle noticed that Gravy was seated by the pond, and seemed to be washing his face off in the water. Walking over to opposite side (For obvious sanitary reasons), Elle dipped her muzzle into the water and took a long drink. The water was cool, sweet, and surprisingly clean. As she raised her head, she was surprised to see Gravy staring at her in something approaching amusement. And the fact that he was not wearing his mask made his expression clear. "Huh," the jester said, seeming to have difficulty in keeping from laughing, "those are some right fancy pajamas you've got on right now." Elle looked down and noticed that she was not wearing any sort of disguise. Well, she could hardly be blamed for that: Changelings cannot sustain a disguise in their sleep, and her experience with with keeping her nature hidden was practically nil. So, congratulations, Gravy now knew that she was a changeling, and she only had herself to blame. "That answers a few questions," the jester continued, "yet it raises a thousand others." Fitting his mask over his face, he added, "But I don't intend to pry, especially into the life of a five year old filly. Still, would you mind telling me, does Trixie know?" Elle saw no point in lying, and simply nodded. Nodding in return, he said, "Good. I'd hate to think you were trying to take advantage of her." Gesturing towards his face, Gravy said, "I'll make you a deal: When we get to the Crystal Empire, if you will stay quiet about this..." he paused then pointed at her, finishing with, "I will keep quiet about that. Deal?" A strange request. It wasn't as if he had any sort of a scar or other disfiguring marks. Still, it would be best if her nature remained unknown. Elle nodded. "Good," the jester said as he rose to his hooves. "Now, you should get some sleep: Tomorrow will be an exciting day, and I doubt you'll be getting much sleep on the way." Curious, Elle asked, "What happens tomorrow?" "A lesson in applied gravitational manipulation: We'll be catching a train the fun way," Gravy said with a chuckle. -------------------------------------- As Elle settled back in, she was somewhat thankful for a new mystery to puzzle on, rather than the chaotic ping-pong of a jumble her mind had been just a few minutes before: Why would Gravy want the details of his face to remain a secret? It wasn't as if he was ugly. In fact, he was handsome, in a tall, dark, and mysterious way. His dark gray coat was clean and well-maintained, as was his long, black mane. The long sideburns were a little odd, but not unattractive. His red eyes were a little intimidating, she supposed, but overall, he had nothing to hide... so why was he hiding it? There was something here that she wasn't getting, but she had no clue what it might be... With that thought, she promptly fell asleep...