To Cure Deception

by LegionPothIX

Act 1 | In Medias Res-olution

Author's Note:

What is a friend?

A haunting chill crept into Lacus as he, similarly, crept toward the Everfree Forest. Though unsure as to where he was going the small hoof-worn path through the brush served as his guide. On his approach to the woods, the buildings thinned, as did the path, which indicated not many ponies came by this way. This path then, he thought, must lead to Zecora's residence.

He did not think much about the palette he was found in—save for its blue splotches—but the deeper into to the forest he strode the deeper in him it grew; until he could not tell himself from the forest or the forest from its trees. His soil brown coat, that of deep earth, and his grass green mane seemed to be pulled from beneath these branches as they were only a shade darker than the world outside. He contemplated if it was the darkness, or perhaps the unspoiled nature of it that he felt at home in, while he followed the path that laid sprawled out before him. As he walked it, it wound near a lone cottage on the outer edge of the treeline.

When Lacus passed by, he found that the forest had an anxiety about it. From the road he could see a mare matching the description the physician had given him of his rescuer. He thought the proper thing to do would be to show some gratitude, but even the thought of approaching her rattled him. It was an ominous feeling—difficult to shake, or pin down, as he watched the gentle pegasus give small kindnesses to beasts and fowl alike.

He couldn't quite put his hoof on the source of the disquieting feeling that had taken hold, but the symbolism that the cottage evoked was not lost on him. Here, this isolated structure stood at the precipice of disaster; its confined space shared between a delicate pegasus mare and, from what he could glance at through the window, an amalgamation of many monsters. It spoke to him as a metaphor: that these ponies of Ponyville were not towering statues of morality standing apart from the world they lived in. Rather, small sparks of innocence hovelled at the edge of a treacherous world. Even the ancient castle of their altruistic princesses, that could be seen peaking over the treeline, was overrun by this world’s cruelty. That it lay broken somewhere beyond those ominous branches—buried beneath their shriveled leaves—stood as a testament to that fact.

She called to it by name, Discord, and Lacus thought it best to get moving, least he be spotted and forced into something he ought not be. Once at the edge of the treeline, Lacus hesitated only slightly to observe his shadow intersect that of the trees as one became part of the other. Stepping into the woods was also a bit unsettling at first but, unlike with the mare, this feeling was clear and distinct. The atmosphere was saturated with melancholy, as if it respirated from the trees themselves, and he took it in with his last breath before soldiering on.

His thoughts turned to his task as he continued down the path to Zecora’s home. He wondered if the book he was plotting about actually contained some secret to the changeling condition. From what he gathered from Spike, the concoction therein certainly wasn't intended for pony consumption. Several questions of logistics must be addressed as he considered the situation. Like a puzzle, he turned over all the pieces in his mind, which included the recently discovered pendant of Twilight Sparkle's. He instinctively knew it was a fragment of the Crystal Heart, and he couldn't be sure when he could have come in contact with that mythical artifact, but he could feel its impression still left on him.

It was a funny thing, that heart, that even with his amnesia he could feel its draw as a changeling. Something with the potential to overflow with boundless love does not easily go unnoticed. Nor, should the tables turn, could infinite misery be so easily escaped. And, neither of the two could be so easily forgotten.

As curious as he was about finding himself, he couldn't help but note the equally curious circumstances falling in place around him. There was something strange about this business, but his thoughts were quickly interrupted by the sounds of several wild and violent creatures called out their territorial claim in the distance... and one not so distant.

"You mother-fucker!"

The volatile, verbal outburst was equally matched by a corresponding physical one, as a sandy-tan shape blurred out from the treeline, and into Lacus' peripherals. He was wrestled to the ground as a series of accusations rained down with hammering blows.

"I was out, you fucking asshole!" A mare’s voice could be heard between the fury of blows. "We are not fucking doing this again!"

Lacus struggled to fight back, and to figure out what was going on, but the unicorn's magic made even the token gesture a colossal feat. Through the constricting magic that enveloped his throat he could barely meep out the word: "What?"

"Don't you fuck with me, D! I am not in the fucking mood!" The words poured out of tear stained cheeks, like so much fury, as her shale-rock mane crashed against the shore of her embittered muzzle.

With a raw burst of adrenal strength, Lacus Sceleratus bucked the unicorn off; whereupon she was sent sprawling into the grass. One of his hooves—he couldn't be sure which—struck her horn as he did so, which disrupted the telekinetic field. The rasping reprieve was short lived, however, as the magician glanced a vector spell off his coat. Casting through her tumble, as she rose once again to her hooves to stare him down. He was clearly dealing with no amateur.

"What have you done with my mentor you face-stealing fuck?"

The complete question came with came with a barrage of magic missiles that Lacus was scarcely able to avoid by rolling behind a tree, and scrambling up its trunk. The arrow array punched more holes in it than in all the legs of Canterlot, and ripped through the hemp binding the book to its plot.

"I won't ask again!" she bellowed.

The mare's ultimatum was handed down, while Lacus slid down the trunk of the tree, and reached out for the book. He peered through a hole to inspect the unicorn, and in a voice shakier than the leaves above, he called out "I don't know!" Perhaps the truth wasn't his best plan, but it did manage to take some of the wind out of her sails as she skimmed the red river of eventide. As she calmed, he called out again, "Uh, how did you know I was a changeling?"

"The usual way," she quoted him back to himself. As she rounded the tree to look to the pitiful puddle that Lacus had become, her forehoof came down on the cover, whereupon she pressed all her weight to keep it from his grasp. "Chryst! Fucking pull yourself together," she barked with horn lit, before her eyes caught its title.

The odd sacrosanctity of the first word reverberated through his hollows as repeated her, "Chryst? Are– are you a changeling too?"
It was not the first time today that somepony looked at him in a way that suggested he had suffered massive brain damage, and as the assumed unicorn mare kicked open the book's cover her tone soured.

"The fuck is this?"

"A book?" Lacus raised the question with the same self-evident tone as if the tome had announced it itself.

The historical text was hoisted up by an olive green glow that matched the other changeling's horn. "Not the book, jackass," she growled as she unceremoniously tossed it into his lap after pulling a folded piece of paper from its pages.

Throughout his conversation with Spike, Lacus hadn't thought to check the book for himself. Nor, throughout the struggle did he get so clear an opportunity to observe the mare's mark. A mark that was accurately depicted on the side of the letter he was now able to see. A broken wand locked in a chevron. Her antagonistic stance had made its way to one of mere aggression and standoffishness as she read a single line over and over.

A line that visibly made her uncomfortable and she began to pace while muttering, "Don't fucking get involved. I tried to fucking tell myself," the unicorn went on, "it's not my fucking fight—but you... you just had to fucking come back here."

The stallion watched the unstable mare with the rambunctious mane work herself into a different kind of tizzy, less violent. Though the situation remained precarious, he gave careful consideration to how to proceed. He thought it best to let her make the first move while he thought just how the book really came into his possession.

Everything stopped abruptly, the pacing, the muttering, and the downward spiral all to give passage to a question. "D, do you know who I am?" she cautiously questioned in a tone that suggested the answer held more significance than a name could hope to impart.

Had he thought the two items placed together on the note were meant to find their way to each other he certainly would have asked earlier. "Are you... HSB:H.K.?"

H.K. frowned as if she was expecting to hear another name, but she did not refute the one given. Such was the nature of the changeling condition. Her look of disappointed confusion changed into recognition. She crumpled up the note and discarded it before answering him. "Yep, that's me: squad-mate Habré 'fuckin' Kadabré." She leaned against the tree she that so riddled with holes it could be mistaken for a fellow changeling, or Lacus's memory.

Though she seemed to relax, Lacus could not find himself doing so. In a tone similar to her own momentary caution, Lacus raised the first obvious question. "Who is D?" He had expected some response akin to "my mentor" but he was finding this mare would do anything but what was expected.

"That's not fucking important," she offered with a shrug.

This did not sit well with the stallion, the idea of being accosted and beaten over something that wasn't important. Mistaken identity perhaps? But he refused to let it lie there. "You punched me in the face for her," he said as his own hoof drew attention to a growing bruise. The more they spoke the more her brazen attitude infected, and twisted, what he thought was his normal demure. He gave pause to consider what he was really like.

"What's the fucking deal with that book anyway?" Habré counter-queried, "Seriously? You and her both..."

"I'm not sure, but more important is what I saw when I picked it up." It was a difficult subject to broach, as it meant showing some of his cards, but—to downplay the love potion—he had to offer up something of equal importance. He was about to mention Twilight's Crystal Heart pendant when they heard a rustle of leaves and snapping of twigs in the distance.

"It'll fucking have to wait." H.K. quickly cut him off and her demeanor shifted from familiar to professional. Recognizing a distant voice, the unicorn shifted into a magenta earth mare, after which she hastily brought the conversation to a close. "Look, bitch, I'm sorry about before," A sentiment interrupted by a brief frown with the delivery, "Well, I'm not– but that's what I'm supposed fuckin' to say, ya'know?"

Lacus nodded in understanding while the sudden school teacher turned to the interloping ponies, impatiently rolled her shoulders and popped her neck while she waited for her cue line. After doing so, she whispered a final word of advice to him.

"If you fuck this up, I will kill you."

Comments

[LegionPothIX]

6239433 That was the idea. I wanted to tell a story that was not only fresh and new for the changelings, but also had replay value. Since the story is very much about "what" and "why" as told through "how" knowing one lends extra context to the other. On the first read through we're seeing it through Lacus's perspective, learning and understanding as he does, but on subsequent ones we have someone else's perspective entirely. Our context changes our understanding of events, even as new context is introduced throughout the story.

6239356 While some may assume the story is about the good Doctor, it isn't, and his companion isn't even identified beyond being a mare. That disguise could have been anypony, so I thought I'd show some love to another part of the fandom. I think that's my favorite part about Doctor Whooves that you can drop him anywhere, at any time, and it makes sense for him to be there.