Chapter 15: In Darkness
Chapter 15: In Darkness
Objectively, it should have been a good day. Meadow knew that, yet it didn't help. Everything just felt so... bland, as if the world and all the emotions around her had lost their flavor. She was well fed by the gratitude of those she helped. She had even gotten an extra-large helping of sympathy from Charity. That mare was one of the most soft-hearted of ponies--quite an accomplishment, Meadow dully thought--and the amount of emotion she put into everything she did was impressive. Despite that, the taste seemed muted and dull to her. She gathered it in and fed on it all the same, sating her hunger. It was a mechanical process, and nothing more.
Charity had again asked her if something was wrong. Meadow had come up with a half-hearted excuse about just having an off-day. At another time, she might have enjoyed how it kept those feelings of sympathy flowing strongly; her "off-day" had been stretching on for a couple months, and this was not the first time Charity had asked. That is, she might have enjoyed it if it had been an intentional act. Instead, it was a reminder of her own failures. For one, she was letting her own emotions show far too clearly to the ponies around her. Her act was failing.
Though that was only the surface of the real issue.
Meadow trudged home in silence, fallen leaves crunching slightly under her hooves, but she paid them no mind. Actually, she tried to think as little as possible. Whenever she thought, she tended to analyze things, following thoughts and ideas to their conclusion, and she wanted to avoid that right now. It was simpler to just go with the routine.
The routine was safety, in a way. She could just shut everything out and continue on, without worrying about reacting... poorly. She didn't quite remember what Bigs had said in those first few days. It had been some snarky comment about Spark, something about wondering if her bad mood was because he had figured out how bad of a pony she was. All she remembered was that she had been livid, and was halfway into winding up to punch him before restraining herself.
With the routine, the simple, mechanical rote behavior of day-to-day life, it was easier to ignore the increasingly volatile feelings. She could continue on, another drone dedicated to its task without concern for its own well-being. It should have been enough, but it wasn't.
She had originally thought of the house as kind of cute, as far as pony buildings went, and had even been happy on moving in to think that it was, in part, hers. Now she hardly paid it any attention as she turned off the road and approached the door.
Stepping inside, she saw Spark kicked back on the couch, reading. He looked over with a small but hopeful smile. "Hey."
"Hey," she replied in greeting, and continued on into the kitchen. She tried to ignore the feelings of concern and disappointment from him. As usual, it didn't work.
Out of sight in the kitchen, she let out a slow sigh before going to the fridge. Opening it, she stared at the contents for several moments, every one of them bringing up the same feeling of apathy. In the end, she levitated out an apple. She didn't feel like spending the time and effort to prepare anything, so it would do. She sat, and then proceeded to stare at the apple, slowly turning it over in her magic.
As hard as she tried, she couldn't just shut off her mind and go on. It would have been simpler that way. Better. She could get on with what needed to be done, without...
She shook her head and quickly took a bite of the apple, as if in the vain hope that the activity would shake off the coming thoughts. It didn't help.
I am the most pathetic changeling ever.
It didn't even feel like a worry anymore. It felt like an established fact, beyond any question or doubt. It was perfectly reasonable, too. A proper changeling's duty was clear: she should return to the hive, to contribute to the prosperity of all her siblings. Instead, she couldn't help but think of what would be waiting for her.
She had been replaced. Again, it wasn't just a fear, it was a certainty. The hive was efficient. They would have expended some effort to find the Princess and the Infiltrators-in-training when they didn't return, right up until that search would take more effort than training their replacements. It would have been a few weeks or months at most. Not years. The hive would have its Infiltrators. When she returned, what would there be for her? Some menial position maintaining the hive or harvesting fungus? How could she bear to be relegated to such dull and lifeless tasks after having nearly been an Infiltrator, after having experienced that way for years?
There wasn't anything for her. She would return to the hive, to work in tedium for the rest of her life. The work would be to support the whole hive, but it was work even the most dim-witted of drones could do--and after all this time, surely a few extra eggs had been laid to make up for the small losses. Without question, she had been replaced.
I have no purpose.
The thought came as it always had over the past couple of months, leaving her feeling empty and lost. She wanted to cling to the hope that maybe, just maybe, she might be allowed to become a true Infiltrator. She had some experience and had hidden among the ponies without detection for so long. A part of her wanted to imagine that it would be enough, but she knew better.
They wouldn't want an Infiltrator that's as selfish as I've become, she thought. One that's so worried about their own comfort instead of the well-being of the hive. She glanced up at the wall of the kitchen, picturing the pony sitting in the room beyond it. One who's weak enough to feel sympathy for their prey...
She shook her head again, taking another tasteless bite. A familiar irritation grew on her cheek, and she brushed a hoof against it. As it had many times in the past weeks, the hoof came away slightly dampened.
...Stupid ponies.
In the dullness, days blended together. It was a bland and mechanical routine: wake, eat, work, return, eat, halfhearted socializing, sleep. Work was a struggle now, trying to force herself to stay active and friendly. It had been so casual and easy before, but she was finding it increasingly draining to keep up the act when she felt so dull and lethargic. It still kept her well-fed, but that was about it. Bigs didn't even bother her anymore. He likely realized that there was nothing he could do to make her feel any worse than she already did.
Again, she found herself returning home after a long day of pretending--increasingly poorly--to be a friendly, helpful pony. Again, she opened the door to find Spark reading from another book. Again, they exchanged their routine greetings.
"Hey," she said wearily.
"Hey," he answered. A feeling of concern and hope came from him as he watched her trudge off to the kitchen, his smile tiny and fragile.
Again, she went to the fridge and looked inside, and again, she settled on an apple.
Turning back to the table, the routine was abruptly interrupted. Sitting on the table, where she normally sat, was a bouquet of a few roses, with a small note that simply read, "For you."
Meadow imagined that most ponies in the same situation would feel happy, if possibly a bit bittersweet, at the gesture, an attempt to comfort her when she felt down.
Instead, she gritted her teeth, body tensing.
He is the cause of all of this.
She glared down at the flowers. I should be going home and dragging him along with me. There shouldn't even be any question of it, no hesitation. Instead, I'm delaying and worrying about it, all for... for a damn pony!
Her glare turned to the familiar wall, as if staring right through it to the pony beyond it. Her limbs trembled faintly, her breathing quickening as her anger built. It's all your fault, she thought accusingly. It should all be so simple, and then you had to go and mess everything up! If you'd just know your place, none of this would have happened. But no, you had to ruin me, didn't you? You had to keep trying to please and comfort me until I got accustomed to it, until I wanted it...
I hate how weak you've made me. I hate you. You are food, nothing more. I hate you! You weak, soft, pathetic, simple-minded, s-stupid... stupid...
She faltered, expression falling. Her head drooped, her ears falling flat. Despite her best effort, the anger fled as quickly as it came. Her gaze drifted aimlessly for a moment, before falling on the note again.
For you.
She trembled faintly, sinking down into the chair. She raised a hoof, reaching out to gently trace it along the note. It was a pointless gesture--a very "pony" sort of thing--but there was something comforting about it.
She ignored the familiar sensation building on her cheeks.
As much as she wanted to not admit it, it was impossible to avoid. She did appreciate the gesture. It wasn't enough to make her truly happy, not with everything she had to deal with, but it was still some comfort. It made her feel just the slightest bit better--even if she instinctively loathed the reason why.
She cared about how he felt.
To pass it off as professional pride felt like a delusion. There was no professional pride because there was no profession. She wasn't an Infiltrator. She never would be. Sure, she could take some pride in being skilled enough to manipulate ponies' emotions, but that felt like a hollow excuse. She had learned to evaluate the cause and effect of those emotions, and couldn't help but turn that skill on herself. It was plain to see now that her own happiness was so much affected by his. Even the excuse of it being related to the energy she fed off of was a weak one. She was quite well-fed, far more than she needed to survive; her reaction to his emotions was clearly out-of-proportion to the amount of food she got from them.
Somewhere, somehow, she had begun to feel sympathy for him. For her prey.
And now, she worried about losing him.
She should return home, she knew. She would. Even if she were relegated to the most degrading and simple-minded of tasks, she could handle that. It would be with regret and reluctance, shameful enough for a changeling to be feeling toward their duty, but she could handle that if it gave her purpose. If she did return, however, it would have other problems, and not the sort that should concern a proper changeling.
If Spark accompanied her on the trip, he couldn't be allowed to return to Equestria. He'd be taken and put in a cocoon to feed the hive. He'd live, but only in the most technical of senses. He'd never wake, never speak. He would be gone. She briefly started to consider the other, unknown ponies that she would be bringing along, but quickly forced the thought from her head. It was bad enough feeling sympathy toward a single pony, she didn't want to encourage it for others.
If she kept him from coming with her, then he would still be free, but just as lost to her. Most likely, she would never leave the hive again. In the unlikely event that her experience and the ponies she brings as food--don't think on it, don't think on it--convinced the Queen to take the chance of letting her serve as an Infiltrator, there wouldn't be much to return to. Refusing Spark would likely wreck his feelings toward her; he knew that it was something important to her--cutie-mark important, even, thanks to her chosen design--and he wanted to be a part of that. To deny him would be to say that she didn't consider him worthy enough to be a part of something important to her. It would crush that ever-growing affection he held for her. It would hurt him, and Meadow sank a bit lower in her chair at how much that thought weighed with her.
On the other hoof... if she refused him, he would at least live on. He wouldn't be cocooned up, as good as dead. He'd be hurt, and who knows how much worse he would feel if she never came back. But he'd be alive and safe. That was some small comfort.
Though the fact that she could find any comfort in his continued freedom weighed guiltily in her mind.
"...Most. Pathetic. Changeling..."
With a sigh, she slumped down, resting her head atop the table.
"Are you all right?"
Meadow opened her eyes to see Spark standing in the doorway of the kitchen, looking at her. Silence held for a few moments before her brain caught up with the situation. She lifted her head from the table to sit up, a couple rose petals--all that remained of the bouquet--falling back to the table. "I, uh... I'm just having an off day."
It was a weak excuse, and Spark obviously thought so, too. "It's been weeks." The concern she felt from him was simultaneously comforting and depressing. A little voice in the back of her mind started shouting that she should be angry with him, but it was drowned out behind the other thoughts.
"I didn't think it was that obvious," she murmured, eyes dropping to the table and the flower stems laid atop it.
Spark's hooves clopped softly against the kitchen floor as he stepped up to the table. "Are you ever going to tell me what's wrong?"
Her eyes dropped, not focusing on anything in particular as she stared right through the table. She had no idea how to reply. Something had to be said, but she was at a loss as to what that should be. The truth was clearly out. The weak excuses she had been giving could only go so far and weren't going to satisfy anypony for long. A more complex lie would need serious thought to make it convincing, more than she could muster at the moment.
As the silence dragged on, she heard Spark's faint sigh, noticing the faint weakening of his stance as he realized no answer was coming. The soft wisps of disappointment held a bitter sting. She closed her eyes to mask the faint wince. Still, she couldn't decide on what to do. Once again, she felt lost and alone, a solitary drone lost far from home.
Opening her eyes, she looked over to Spark. An uneasy feeling built in her gut as she considered him. He looked back, hopefully.
Why not? I've already sunk this far, what's a little more?
"...Spark?"
His ears perked up, growing more hopeful. "Yes?"
She struggled for a few moments before finally managing to form words. "What do you think is more important? Your responsibilities, or your desires?" I can't believe I'm seriously asking a pony for advice.
Spark, however, just blinked. "What?"
Meadow let out a slow sigh, trying to find the way to word what she meant without sharing any of the details that had to remain secret. She raised a hoof. "Say you have a responsibility, a duty that you're expected to fulfill." She raised another hoof. "But there's also something that you want to do, your... dreams and desires. And they're mutually exclusive. You can't have both. Which is more important?"
Spark looked incredibly uncomfortable, despite his attempts to hide it. No doubt, he disliked the sound of such a serious question, and the implications such an unexpected question may have. "I, uh... I don't know. That's kind of vague. What kind of dreams? And, um, responsibilities?"
Hesitantly, Meadow replied. "Just... in general. Assuming both are fairly important."
"Well." Spark reached up, scratching at his mane. "I'm not sure. After all, responsibilities are important. We wouldn't really get anywhere if everypony shirked their responsibilities, and I guess there are certainly things that really need to be done. But at the same time, dreams are important, too. It'd be a pretty sad world where nopony achieves their dreams. If their duty is getting in the way of reaching their dreams, maybe somepony else should take up that duty so they can find something that doesn't force them into such a bad choice."
He paused a moment before continuing. "I don't know. That seems like something that's way too situational. Could you... could you tell me what you had in mind?"
"I... it's... just hypothetical."
Spark frowned at the obvious lie, and Meadow had to turn away. She knew he'd be hurt that she lied to him, but it was still better than telling the truth.
"...I don't know, Meadow. I know it sounds stupidly sappy, but I guess the best advice I could give is to listen to your heart and do what seems right. You're a good pony. I think whatever it is, you'll do the right thing."
Slowly, Meadow turned back to him and gave a weak smile. "Thanks, Spark." I can't believe I expected that to help...
Still, as time went on, she mulled over everything he had said. It felt like the right answer was there, just out of her reach.
For a time, that had been it. Spark, whether he was hurt by her apparent lack of trust in not telling him what was bothering her, or if he was simply giving her time to think, didn't press the matter. Meadow continued to spend most of her time lost in thought, which was split between self-recrimination and helplessly trying to figure out a bad situation. It seemed like it should be such an easy decision: she would leave Spark behind to live on, while she returned to the hive.
But at the same time, it felt so wrong.
As such, the dull, listless routine held.
Such a thing couldn't last forever. Meadow might be used to carrying on, enduring whatever hardships might come, but Spark was not. Even past her own doubts and worries, she had noticed it weighing more heavily on him as time passed.
His silence finally broke on Hearth's Warming Eve, as they returned from dinner with his family. It was chilly, the world covered in a soft blanket of snow. The ideal winter holiday weather, by pony standards. They had walked almost halfway home in silence before Spark broke it.
"Meadow, what's going on with you?"
She blinked, almost staggering in mid-step before glancing over to him. When she spoke, her voice was quiet. "What do you mean?"
"I mean..." he grunted a little, snow crunching softly under hoof as they continued on. "I mean, you just spent an entire evening with my family, who were doing their best to be cheerful and happy, and you barely even cracked a smile. You were always so cheery and talkative, but tonight it's like you were sucking all the fun out of the room. I know something is bothering you, but you're just... bottling up."
Still walking, he turned his head to fix her with a stare. "So just tell me what's wrong, already."
She stared back. A part of her was surprised to hear him so assertive. How long had that been building? Still, she opened her mouth... and couldn't find the words to say. She tried again, mouth moving a few times as she tried to force herself to say something, anything, but nothing came out. Her head drooped, eyes turning down to the snowy street as they continued on. Some Infiltrator I am, completely lost for words...
"It's about your expedition, isn't it?"
That brought her head up, looking back to him. He seemed sadder than he was just a moment ago. Her reply came quickly, this time. "Why do you say that?" It had come out without thinking, and she immediately regretted the words. She should have denied it. Instead, she had confirmed it.
"I'm not stupid, Meadow." There was no malice to the words, but Meadow winced all the same. "You've been quiet and sullen since we moved into the house. You seemed to like the house just fine, which means it's probably something else. Clearly, it's something important, and the only thing I can think of happening around then was me convincing you to let me come along."
Meadow said nothing.
"...That's it, isn't it?" Spark said. "You don't want me to come with you."
Her expression fell. "I... it's dangerous. I don't want you to get hurt..."
"I know it's dangerous!" he replied. "Again, I'm not stupid. I remember all the stories you've told of the place, and you're more experienced at dealing with stuff like that than I am. I didn't ask to come because I didn't know it was dangerous. I asked to come because I wanted to, despite that. I wanted to go and be with you, even if it's dangerous. You..."
She could see his jaw tensing, feel the faint irritation and desperation rising from him. He was keeping the feeling in check--he clearly didn't want to be upset with her--but she sensed it all the same. "...You always are trying to help everypony, to keep everypony happy and safe. But you can't keep ponies from doing what they desire just because it's dangerous and you feel like you have some responsibility to protect them."
Meadow flinched again at his words--her own words, in a way, turned against her. Her gaze again fell to her hooves, her throat feeling strangely tight. They walked on in silence, passing house after house, each cheerfully decorated for the season.
It was Spark who once again broke the silence. He let out a nearly silent sigh, ears lowering slightly. "If it's bothering you so much, I'll stay behind." When she gave a questioning glance, he asked, "Would that make you feel better?"
Again, she struggled to force herself to speak, made even harder by the growing tightness in her throat. Eventually, she managed to murmur her reply. "...Yes."
Spark tried to hide his reaction, but Meadow felt the full force of his emotion. "...Okay." He swallowed, blinking a couple times, and doing his best to act as if it was fine.
His best wasn't very good.
He continued on. "I'm sorry. I didn't... I didn't mean to cause so much of a problem for you. I would have liked to come with you, but... but I'd like to see you happy again even more..."
Meadow didn't reply. With how tight her throat felt, she wasn't sure if she could. She'd just told him that she didn't want him to be involved in an important part of her life, stepped all over his feelings, and still, he wanted for her to be happy. There was a bittersweet pleasantness to it. More bitter than sweet, at the moment, but there all the same. Even as ashamed as it made her feel, there was something nice about having him genuinely care for her.
It's for the best, she thought sadly. The best solution for a horrible situation. I have to find my way home, and this way... it'll hurt, but at least he'll be safe. She ignored the lingering feelings of shame that she should even care about a pony. He wasn't just any pony, she reasoned. He was different, after all. He was one of the few ponies that she could, in some ways, actually respect. One of the very few that she actually... liked.
I just wish there were some way I didn't have to lose him. But the only way that could happen would be if I don't--
She staggered as her thoughts came to a crashing halt. Spark cast a slightly worried glance at her, but he must have decided she had just slipped in the snow when she said nothing. She did her best to keep her expression calm despite the way her heart pounded hard in her chest, the acidic tinge of adrenaline coursing through her.
She kept walking despite the faint shaking of her legs while doing her best to avoid completing that thought. Even if she had fallen so far as to sympathize with her prey, to like this pony, to even consider his happiness and wellbeing against her own interests...
Even if she were the most pathetic changeling in history, there were still some things that she could never do.
Nothing had changed.
Certainly, nothing had improved. If anything, the situation had gotten worse. Even with a final course of action in mind, Meadow couldn't shake the feelings of guilt. Even when she grew angry with herself for feeling that guilt, it never got rid of it. She still saw Spark every day. Despite his assurances, there was always a sadness there, and it gnawed at her.
The sooner she could leave on her expedition, the sooner he'd be able to move on. She would have liked to see him happy again, but she could make do with the knowledge that things would be better for him once she left.
She had the money. She'd actually had enough for some time, but now she was settled on using it. All she was waiting for was for the weather to improve enough to make an expedition more viable. Sometime in spring, she would be able to leave.
Spring was almost there.
Meadow continued on. The routine had become something of a safety mechanism; she could just carry on as she always had, no obstacles or obstructions getting in the way. It was easy, focused, and made it easier to ignore anything else going on around her.
Almost anything.
"Hey," she said dully as she stepped inside the front door. Another day of work was over, the routine leading her back home. Next would be a quick snack, then idle reading, then dinner. It was simple, mechanical, predictable.
Spark didn't reply. He was laid out on the couch, reading, but he didn't seem to acknowledge her presence. It was unusual, a slight difference in the routine. She paused, glancing over at him. She could feel only a faint sadness directed toward her, yet he looked miserable. There were no signs of crying or other such overt outlets. He simply looked wilted, defeated. He looked thoroughly depressed in a way that made Meadow hesitate, that guilty feeling rising again.
A moment later she noticed the small pile of mail on the coffee table. More specifically, she noticed one of the fliers tucked in with the unopened letters, simple little ads that some places mailed out for specific occasions.
The one that caught her eye, adorned thoroughly with hearts, had been sent out for Hearts and Hooves day.
Tomorrow.
She looked back to Spark. Something about his disheveled, defeated look struck her hard. It was the kind of cruelty she could enjoy inflicting on an enemy, but for someone--even somepony--that she actually cared about, it seemed so horrible. Hearts and Hooves day was tomorrow, a day for ponies to express their love, and here he was, living with a pony he cared so deeply for, yet could never have.
I'm hurting him.
She winced a little as she turned away, continuing on to the kitchen. She didn't want to see him like that. Even though she knew it would happen, she found it remarkably more uncomfortable when she had to see it happen to him.
Again.
The thought brought her to a stop in the middle of the kitchen. This wasn't the first time she had seen him like that. Back at the orphanage, he had grown similarly depressed after having failed to be adopted so many times. She had caused that, too, she noted, a recognition that brought out another bit of guilt to add to the growing pile. On top of that, those events had also seen her in a similar crisis of self. She had ended up curled up with him, crying into his chest. She had felt like a failure and had taken comfort in his presence. He had been comforting and reassuring. He had made her feel a little less alone in the world.
And when it had all ended, when he had been dancing for joy at being adopted, she had felt happy for him.
Even back then, I was sympathizing with him.
She sighed, head sinking a little lower, while her thoughts continued on. The little voice in the back of her mind kept whispering little words to her. Pathetic. Useless. Replaced.
How had it all ended, back then? How had he gone from depressed to overjoyed in a single day?
She had stopped trying to keep control over him. She had relented on pushing everything only toward what she had desired, and instead, let him have what he wanted so much.
Eventually, she stirred from her thoughts. Ignoring the fridge, she continued out the back of the kitchen, the comfortable and familiar routine abandoned. She made her way quietly upstairs, and into the large bedroom. Much like their old room back in the orphanage, it contained a pair of beds, and she made her way over to her own, and the dresser beside it.
Reaching out with her magic, she took up the familiar journal and took a seat on the edge of her bed. She opened the cover and started to slowly scan over the page.
Slowly, she made her way through the journal, a page at a time. She read little of it; she knew almost every word by heart. Still, she continued on until it again sat closed in her hooves, and she remained sitting there, staring at the blank back cover.
She didn't know how long she had sat there before finally stirring again. Her limbs trembled slightly as she slid off the bed and slowly made her way over to the bedroom closet, her eyes still fixed on the small journal.
In the closet were several boxes from the move, holding things--mostly Spark's--that they wanted to keep, but didn't have an immediate need for. She stood before them for several long minutes before reaching out with her magic. A moment later, she deposited the journal in one of the boxes and turned, walking away on shaky legs.
Already her heart was beating faster. As she made her way down the stairs, she could hear it clearly in her ears, building faster. When she reached the doorway to the living room, she had to stop, forcing herself to calm down, to compose herself. It did little to calm the pounding in her chest, but at least she could hide the outward expression of the building anxiety.
I can't believe I'm going to do this, she thought as she forced herself to step forward. Every single instinct cried out against what she was doing, but she fixed her eyes on the back of Spark's head and pushed herself onward.
When she reached the side of the couch, she hesitated for only a moment. Raising a hoof--and doing her best to keep it from shaking with the anxiety pouring through her--she set it gently on the edge of the couch and spoke softly. "Spark?"
Spark twitched, caught by surprise by her quiet approach, and craned his neck to look back at her. "...Yeah?"
Meadow nearly winced away. His emotions seemed so deadened. The tiny ember of hope still burned, but it was deep in the background, muffled under the weight of his unhappiness. She found it surprisingly hard to speak, but she pushed on. "...I wanted to say I'm sorry."
Spark stared for a moment, then hesitantly shook his head. "You don't need to apologize, Meadow. You haven't done anything wrong."
That seemed exactly like the kind of lie pony society encouraged, but she shook her head, refusing it. "Yes I have," she said. "All of this is my fault. All because... because I've been so selfish and thoughtless." Already the surprise and concern were welling up in Spark. "It is my fault, and I... I want to fix it."
Her composure nearly slipped as she had to force the next part out. "I want you to have the money I've been saving up."
Spark's ears shot up, eyes widening in surprise. He stuttered faintly, only managing a shocked, "W-what?"
"The money I'd been saving for the expedition. You can use it for your own project if there's anything expensive you need." She hesitated, then added, "I'd like to see it go to something that's actually important to somepony."
"B-but... your trip..." Spark sat up, looking--and feeling--stunned by this news. His depression had already been forgotten, replaced now with his concern for her happiness, a change that gave her some small comfort.
Still, she had to force the next sentence out. "I'm not going."
There. It was out. She had said it. Her heart still pounded hard in her ears, doubt and fear clawed at her mind, protesting in every way that they could, but she was steady in her resolve. It was said and done; now, rather than forcing herself onto the dreaded subject, she merely had to hold course.
Spark was shaking his head slightly, clearly unsure about this change. "But... why?"
Meadow hesitated, looking down as she thought. How should she word it? As uncomfortable as the thought was after a life in pursuit of becoming an Infiltrator, she cared about him. If she was going to do this, to stay here with him, to actually care for him, she wanted to do it right; that meant no more lies. Well, no new ones, anyway.
Eventually, she replied, her voice subdued. "Because you couldn't come with me."
Spark was about to reply, but she held up a hoof to forestall him. "No, Spark. I couldn't take you with me. It's not that it was dangerous. It's because... because the more I thought on it and analyzed my plan, the more I recognized that nopony going on that trip would be coming back. I didn't put any consideration into what would happen to the ponies that accompanied me until you wanted to come. I... I just dismissed it all, without any thought for anypony else. It was selfish of me. Then you wanted to come, and suddenly I had something to lose. And... if I can't bring you with me because I think you wouldn't make it back, how could I ask a bunch of other ponies to walk into the same situation?"
The words had barely left her mouth before she was shaking her head, a hoof raising to her temple. "No... no, that's just an excuse." Sure, she found the idea unsettlingly unpleasant when she drew parallels between those imagined ponies and Spark, but that hadn't played a part in her decision. She also found it ironic that slipping into a perfect lie felt so uncomfortable, now.
"No, the... the truth is, the whole expedition is something I never really, really thought on. I mean, I thought of how to do it, but that's it. After you asked to come, I spent a lot of time thinking on the subject. The more I thought about it, the more it seemed like the expedition is what I'm expected to do, and... and that's it. I couldn't be sure if it's what I should do, or what I... what I want. It took a lot of thinking but now I know... it's not what I really want."
The emotions stirring in Spark had flared up even greater than before; nervousness, surprise, and confusion, but also a steadily growing hope. Cautiously, he spoke up. "Then what do you really want?"
For a moment, she hesitated. Several methods of phrasing it came to mind, but in the end, she gave a weak smile. Then she reached out, lightly placing a hoof on Spark's shoulder. His ears pinned back, the faintest suggestion of a blush starting to form. As the corners of his mouth twitched up a bit, her own smile grew a little more confident.
Then his nascent smile vanished as he glanced toward her flank. "But... what about your cutie mark?"
Her own smile vanished with his as she turned to look at the offending image. Stupid thing. But... I can make use of this.
"...When I first got it, I said that I knew I had to find my own way in the world." She turned back to him, her smile returning, as well as a new sense of confidence. "It might have taken me a few too many months of moping about, but I have. And that's why I'm staying here."
Spark was smiling again. It was faint and terribly weak, but it was there. Despite the faint embarrassment it brought, Meadow was happy to see it. It also made her particularly hopeful for what was coming up next.
"And on that note, I think it'd be nice to change things up from how dreary I've been making it, by doing something special tomorrow..."
She let her statement hang, watching as Spark looked to her first with curiosity, followed by surprised realization. "Really?"
Meadow nodded.
"...Special?"
Surprising herself, she gave a soft, nervous laugh, and nodded.
"I, uh..." he looked around, mind scrambling. "Well, I might be able to get us a reservation at Sweetwater, again. I mean, if they aren't booked up yet, or, um..."
"If that's what you wanted," she said softly, still smiling. "Though I was thinking that maybe we could borrow the Cirrus for the evening, and go flying. Just the two of us."
It was gratifying to see how he lit up at the idea. It was as if all the energy that he had been lacking had come back full-force, and it was barely a minute later that he hurried off to his adoptive parents, hoping to borrow their airship again. Meadow smiled as she watched him go, barely restraining himself from running flat-out in his eagerness.
As soon as the door was shut, and he was out of sight, the smile vanished. She slumped to the floor beside the couch, letting out a deep, shuddering sigh. Her heart was still pounding in her ears, quick and anxious with the weight of what she was doing.
I've been replaced, she reasoned. I have no use or purpose at the hive. They will not be any weaker for my absence. I'd be nothing more than another manual laborer, another mouth to feed, doing nothing that could not be done by anyling else.
As reasonable as they were, it still sounded hollow to her.
Ceymi would be disgusted with what I've become. That thought hurt. Her mentor, the changeling she looked up to the most, would have been disgusted to see what had become of one of her most promising pupils. A nymph that could have made a fine Infiltrator, reduced to... this. A broken-down changeling, turning away from the hive to seek comfort in the embrace of a pony.
Even if she were convinced that she could do nothing for the hive, a good changeling should still try. Even if there was no purpose to it, to simply give up... it felt wrong...
...But as the Cirrus cleared the scattered clouds in the evening sky, letting the sun cast its rich glow across Spark's happy smile as he steered the small airship, the worries faded into the background.
He was happy. Despite her concerns, she was happy. They were both happy that the other was happy.
She sat back, relaxed, as Spark steered them along. Even with the spectacular view, she found herself watching him more than the sights around them.
After all the time spent moping and worrying, a happy and relaxing evening was exactly what Meadow needed. There was none of the awkwardness or manipulations that had accompanied them last year. Instead, she found herself in the unusual--and admittedly, slightly uncomfortable--position of simply going along, letting the evening unfold naturally, free of her attempts to control everything. It was like letting go of the rudder and just drifting with the current, which was precisely what Spark eventually did in order to sit back and relax beside her.
She leaned in gently against him, and he leaned into her. Yet it wasn't quite perfect. She could sense the faint hesitation, the tiny touch of worry in his emotions. Despite the uncomfortable feeling of guilt it caused her, she understood perfectly. She had hurt him over the past months, and it was unsurprising that it would have built up an emotional callus.
Unlike the previous months, however, she felt optimistic. Like a callus, those reservations would fade with time. She just needed to be there with him, being as good of a friend as she had ever seemed to be.
When she slipped a foreleg around his shoulders, she could feel the thrill of excitement and nervousness go through him. She almost broke out chuckling at it but managed to restrain herself to a content smile. Yes, his worry was still there, maybe even grown a touch stronger by their proximity, but it was drowned out behind the happiness, and feeling that sensation from him lifted her own spirits.
Even if she was the most pathetic changeling in history, at least she had something to be happy for.
Night had fallen by the time they returned home. Meadow couldn't have been happier with how the evening had gone. A long and beautiful flight with just the two of them, a very filling meal--not at a fancy restaurant, but instead at a cozy diner nearby--and many hours in the company of a very happy and nervously excited Spark, had all made it as perfect as she could have hoped. All without her needing to do a thing, except to be there with him.
She shut the front door behind them as they entered, let out a happy sigh, and turned to face Spark again. He was standing close, looking to her with his happy smile, and even more nervous excitement than before. It was a little surprising until she realized that he was facing the exact same problem that she was.
I have no idea what to do now.
That wasn't quite true, or at least it wasn't the entire truth. She knew how to manipulate ponies, all manner of words and actions she could do to guide them in the direction she wanted. In a way, that was what pretty much all social interactions were, actions to influence somepony else in the way one desired. At the same time, it felt dishonest. She found the thought ironic; normally, being dishonest would be good. With Spark, however, she wanted to be... well, mostly honest. As honest as she could be. And that left her feeling a little lost.
So, rather than engaging in any cunning social maneuvers, she found herself to suddenly be the more awkward of the two, a blush growing until she looked down, trying to hide her embarrassment. She did finally manage to speak up, eyes peeking up again at Spark, who seemed a bit amused to see her so shy, yet still smiling. "...We should have done this a long time ago."
Spark let out a nervous little chuckle. "We kind of did, last year."
"That was different," she said. "I enjoyed that, too, but I just... I dunno, I was so focused on other things, that I didn't even consider..." She trailed off, the awkwardness returning. Eventually, she leaned in, nudging his shoulder with her own. "I like it a lot more this way."
"Me too," he managed to say, despite the rising blush in his cheeks.
An awkward silence followed until they finally acknowledged that they couldn't just stand there in the entryway, and with nervous chuckles, continued on with the rest of their evening.
Eventually, they said their goodnights and tucked into their own beds. As she lay there, all the doubt, anxiety, uncertainty, and excitement still ran through Meadow's mind. She rolled to her side, peering over to where Spark lay. The lamp by Spark's bed was still lit, but the flame was turned so low that it was nearly extinguished, casting only a faint and flickering light across his form.
She smiled. In some small way, that still surprised her. She saw him, and she felt happy. As bizarre as it was to her, it was true.
She nearly jumped when his eyes slid open, meeting hers. He looked sleepily to her for several seconds before he answered her smile with one of his own. Then his eyes closed again as he returned to sleep.
Meadow curled up in her blankets, her own smile holding strong, and feeling more convinced than ever that she had made the right choice.
In most ways, everything seemed so much livelier. The day after Hearts and Hooves, she had gone to work in such a good mood that several of her coworkers had been quite surprised to see such a change. It was a little embarrassing, knowing she had failed in her acting so badly that it had been so clearly obvious, but she found it easy to overlook. Charity had been particularly enthusiastic when she found out about the previous day's date. She had surprised Meadow by rushing up and giving her a hug, congratulating her on the good news.
Spark seemed livelier, too. He returned to his flying-machine project with enthusiasm, despite it sitting nearly untouched through the winter. Meadow happily tagged along, watching him work and offering what help she could, which mainly consisted of holding something while he did the actual work.
Yet the faint awkwardness still held. Meadow was patient, willing to take her time, yet something still seemed to linger between them. The doubt and fear in Spark refused to subside. Despite how happy he was, there was still that instinctive concern that held on, and Meadow had no idea what to do about it. Instead, she thought on the problem, while hoping that a solution would present itself.
She certainly couldn't have predicted how that would happen.
Waking up early was nothing unusual for Meadow. Even with the years among ponies, she still couldn't get herself to sleep as long as them. She would always wake well before Spark. Sometimes she'd get up and get an early start on the day with some exercise and a shower. Other days she'd give in to laziness and just lounge in bed until Spark woke up.
Waking up so early that it was still pitch-black outside, despite it being summer, was a bit more unusual.
Waking up so early and being unable to get back to sleep was even more so.
She rolled over several times, keeping her eyes closed, trying to get comfortable. She couldn't be sure how long she lay there as if pretending to sleep might lead to her actually sleeping. It all blended into a meaningless dark haze. The only thing to draw her attention was the faint, muffled noises from outside; the parties for the Summer Sun Celebration were apparently still in full swing.
She had been half-tempted to go out to those parties, rather than staying with Spark, but he had wanted to sleep, reasoning that they could rise well-rested for the main celebration in the morning--and besides, the celebration here could hardly compare after having seen Celestia raising the sun the previous year, a point that Meadow had to agree with. Still, if she couldn't sleep, it was tempting to slip out and join in on one of the parties.
In the end, laziness won out, and she simply rolled over, trying to sleep, or at least rest until it was closer to dawn.
It was some time later--she really couldn't be sure how long it had been--when a slightly louder sound reached her ears. It was still quiet and muffled, barely rising beyond the indistinct background noise, but it sounded like somepony yelling something. That was no surprise, some ponies always got excited at parties, or had a bit too much cider, and happy yelling often ensued. Still, she took it as an excuse to give up on trying to sleep.
Spark stirred and groaned something as she got up, apparently sleeping no better than she had been. She rose and trudged over to the window, her movements stiff from having laid awake for so long. At least she felt rested enough, if rather groggy.
Peering out of the window, she could see the source of the shouting: an earth pony mare was snatching up several spilled suitcases and tossing them back into a wagon, which was hitched up to an anxious-looking stallion. Before long she had collected the spilled belongings, and they hurried off as fast as the stallion could gallop.
That was a little odd. Even for ponies.
Actually, several things seemed odd. There at the window, even closed, she could hear the sounds from outside more clearly, and it didn't sound like the revelry from earlier. She was certain the house across the road had been hosting one of the parties, but now the place was dark and empty, with some of the decorations knocked down. Instead of distant, muffled music, there were sporadic shouts, and even what she swore sounded like the occasional scream. She could just see another mare down the street, nailing boards over the windows of her house. A distant glow from over the rooftops, toward the center of town, cast a flickering glow over the horizon. Is something burning out there?
A soft groan from Spark drew her attention away from the window. "Urgh. What time is it?"
Meadow stepped to the side to look at the clock hung on the wall, and then frowned. It read 11:40. She was certain they'd gone to bed around eleven, maybe later, and there was no way that she had slept that little. "Uh, I think your clock's off."
There was another grunt as Spark pushed the blankets off and slid off the bed, followed by the soft clatter of metal as he dug around in the random collection of parts and objects that had accumulated near his bed. Finally, he found one of the pocket watches he had not yet disassembled. He squinted in the dim light coming from the window, his little lamp having guttered out at some point during the night, as it often would. She could practically hear the frown in his voice. "A quarter to noon?"
"It's not noon," Meadow said. "It's the middle of the night."
Spark rubbed at his eyes. "Yeah, I can see that, but it's what this thing says. Maybe I didn't set this one." He dug around through the collection again to find another one. Pulling it out, he again squinted at it. Then he lowered it, his voice sounding a bit more concerned. "This one says the same thing."
"So does the clock," Meadow said quietly, looking back out the window to a scene that was very clearly not a quarter to noon.
"What's going on out there?"
"I don't know," Meadow replied. "I think there's a fire."
"What?" There was a soft clatter as Spark tossed the watches back into the pile, and stepped up to her side. His side rubbed against hers, though she would have enjoyed it more if it hadn't been him huddling closer due to his dislike of the dark. "This all looks... weird..."
Meadow nodded.
They stood there silently for a minute.
Then Spark went stiff, staggering back a step. Meadow's head snapped around to look at him; he was staring out the window, wide-eyed and horrified. His mouth quivered, managing to make only a strangled "No..."
She followed his gaze, but he hadn't been looking out at the town. Instead, his eyes had been turned up to the sky. She looked up as well, but the only thing she could see was the sea of sparkling stars, and the full moon, shining and silver in the darkness.
Unblemished.
Several seconds passed before she fully processed a sight she had never seen before. Her stomach lurched as her mind leaped from what she was seeing now, to the lore surrounding what she did not see.
"...Oh, that's not good."
She regretted those words the very moment she said them, as they seemed to break Spark from his shocked trance. He backpedaled frantically. "No. No, no, no!" He bolted to his bed, leaping on it and pulling the covers over his head.
"Spark!"
Meadow hurried over, climbing onto his bed. "Spark, calm down, it's okay!" She pulled at the covers as she tried to calm him, while he clutched to them, repeating that one word over and over. Finally, she managed to tear the blankets away enough to get to him. His hooves flailed after the covers, but she pulled him into a tight embrace, and they closed around her instead.
"It's okay," she repeated. "It's okay."
He clutched to her as if his life depended on it, shuddering with his growing sobs. He whimpered pitifully. "I-I can't. I can't. Not this. Please, not this."
She held him tight, murmuring her reassurances to him. Then she raised her head, pouring energy into her horn, and the room lit up in pale-green light.
She felt Spark go abruptly still. Turning her head down again, she saw him looking up, squinting against the light. His eyes were still filled with terror, and she could feel the powerful desperation within him, now focused squarely on her.
"It'll be okay," she said softly, giving the most reassuring smile she could manage. "I'm here with you."
He shuddered as he tucked his head back in against her chest, shuddering as he held onto her, but now he was quiet, the frantic panic that had taken hold of him broken.
For just a moment, a little part of her looked down on him, noting how pathetic he looked huddling there, afraid of the dark.
Then she felt angry at having even thought that. This wasn't just a little dark. She was familiar with the stories. Up until a few moments ago, that's all that they had been, stories of an impossible evil who had challenged Celestia and tried to bring about eternal darkness. Now, it looked as if a monster of myth and legend had just stepped into the real world. It all seemed so bizarre, something she would normally dismiss as impossible.
But she had seen so many strange things among these ponies. More importantly, she had seen Celestia. Meadow had seen what she could do, the power she held. She had so much power that she raised the very sun every single day.
Except for today. Whether the legends were true or not, something had stopped that impossibly powerful being from raising the sun as she had for centuries.
Spark should be scared, she thought, giving him a reassuring squeeze.
I should be scared.
Why am I not scared?
She looked down to him again. He still shivered, but his breathing had calmed. Seeing that made her feel just a little bit better.
She considered that feeling. When she had recognized what was happening, she should have been terrified. Instead, she had seen him afraid, and her first response was to forget about herself and try to help him.
Then realization struck her.
I can protect him.
It seemed an almost absurd thought in the face of what might well be an oncoming apocalypse, but she felt a twinge of excitement and hope at the thought. Presented with such a grand threat, her reflex had been not to selfishly save herself, but help him. Even as hopeless as she knew it must be, she would do anything she could to keep him safe.
She could have a purpose again. She could have a place. She might have lost her hive... but she could have a new hive. A new... family. Something that she could devote herself to, not of her own selfish interests, but to have a true purpose, something more than just herself. It might be futile and fatally brief, but it was there for her.
Maybe I'm not such a bad changeling, after all, she thought with a growing smile, as she looked down to Spark again.
Spark...
He loved Meadow.
But she hadn't been Meadow, recently. Not quite. She had held herself back, giving him a bit of space and time to recover, but it had been an act. Another lie. A well-meaning lie, but still a lie. She had been there for him, friendly and warm, but that had been it. She had held back. Despite being a close friend, despite the dates they had gone on in the previous months, and all the time they had spent together, she had never been truly affectionate.
But as strange as it was to acknowledge, particularly given the circumstances, she wanted to.
Because she loved him.
It was the only explanation that fit. She cared about him. She had abandoned her years-long goal of returning to the hive not just to keep him safe, but to make him happy. She had rushed over to protect and comfort him without putting even a moment's consideration toward herself. When he was scared, she felt pained for him. When he was happy... she was happy.
The knowledge that he loved her was comforting and invigorating. Even behind the concern and hesitation, she could taste his feelings for her, delightful for more than just their flavor. But Spark? He was a pony. He could never sense her feelings for him. He could only judge them by outward appearances, by what she allowed him to see, and she had only let him see an act. If he couldn't sense how she felt, she had to show him how she felt.
So she leaned her head down, her cheek brushing against his as she nosed slowly along his jaw. It took a few moments before he stirred. When she finally drew back, his head rose to look up at her. The emotions coming from him were confused and jumbled.
Meadow brushed her nose against his, and even though she could feel the traces of dampness running down her cheeks, her smile was more sincere and heartfelt than ever. She reached up to lightly run a hoof through his brightly-colored mane as she continued to smile at him--and slowly, the fear and panic in him started to ebb, until he managed to force a weak smile of his own.
She closed her eyes again and leaned in, nosing under his chin and along his jaw, until her muzzle was tucked in against his neck, nuzzling into his soft fur.
Spark seemed frozen in place for a moment. After a few moments, he cautiously tilted his head to press his cheek lightly to hers. It was a tentative, almost fearful gesture, one that she answered by nosing a little more firmly up against the line of his jaw.
They nuzzled; Spark's gestures were timid, almost fearful, while hers were gentle, but firm, confident.
Then she felt the shift in his emotions. It was slow at first, just a tiny bit of that reservation stripping away. As his nuzzling grew more confident, the change came ever more swiftly. As the final sliver of reservation melted away...
It was beautiful.
She had never tasted pure love before. In the hive, there had certainly been traces of it mixed into the energies they fed on, but it had been lost behind the bulk of other emotional energies. The surge of energy Ceymi had provided her had been rich with it, but even if she had been in any state to appreciate it, it had still been mixed and diluted with other emotions.
Of course, she had experienced affection, in all varieties of flavors. She had even gotten some love from Spark, but that had been tinged by his reluctance and concern.
But this? A true, open love, given freely and without reservation?
It was the most incredible sensation Meadow had ever felt. Nothing quite compared. It was powerful, exhilarating, almost intoxicating. She immediately fought down the urge to gorge herself on the emotion. Part of her reaction was purely practical; feasting heavily would weaken Spark, and the drain might snuff out the feeling entirely.
That part was much smaller than the part of her that simply beheld the emotions, overjoyed that someone--even somepony--could feel so strongly for her. Feeding heavily on those emotions felt wrong, in a way. Yes, it was food, but these emotions held a much greater importance than mere sustenance.
Instead, she allowed herself the tiniest of tastes, sipping up only a minuscule portion of what he offered. Even that little bit was so much better than the varieties of affection and compassion she had tasted before, and she could feel the greater power it held even in such small amounts.
I wish you could feel this, she thought, savoring the flavor as carefully as possible, as if worried she might damage them. I wonder if my feelings for you are just as wonderful?
She nuzzled slowly and lovingly, breathing through his fur. He returned the gesture, his fear almost entirely forgotten.
They lay together, cuddling close until the light of the rising sun chased away the darkness.
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Sorry this one took so long to get up, but it's one I really wanted to take the time to get right. I hope I did. Got to admit, I'm a little nervous...
2809812
Nice chapter, you have done well
*Looks at clock*
*sees new chapter*
Damn you and your fantastic story! People need to sleep!
I wonder what Spark would do if he found out that Meadow was actually a male changeling?
2809812
Definitely looks alright.
Yay.
Kissheryoufool.avi
2809812 A very lovely end to this chapter.
Finally, she gets it. Thank goodness.
denver.mylittlefacewhen.com/media/f/img/mlfw4475-SPIKE_NOW_KISS.jpg
So...there's still a good year and a half or so until the wedding fiasco and Sky's followup. Meadow's permanent injuries seen at the end of Fragments seem to have already happened during her botched flight, so we can at least assume she doesn't get beaten to an inch of her life again, but that's still a lot of time for things to go very right or very wrong with Spark.
Well ending 3 I had predicted has now been erased from possibility.
Leaves 3 more, only one of which could be considered "bad" for Nictis...though as I was in Meadow's place not too long ago, can say with a degree of certainty that screwing up now isn't only hard to do, it's dang near impossible at first x3
Very adorable.
....
Interesting shift in a certain changling's thinking....
This entire time I thought the time period this story was taking place in was centuries before Twilight existed (I don't remember why I thought this, maybe I was confusing it with another story). This means that these two are gonna live through Chrysalis's attempted takeover. H'oh boy...
2809906
Awesome chapter.
My opinion is, sometime in the next few chapters she should reveal her/his true form. It ought to make for a fairly dramatic moment.
2809812
Wasn't expecting the expedition to be canceled, but you pulled it off wonderfully!
It's too bad that this image of Pinkie smiling is the biggest grin available with emoticons, because I'm positive that my own grin is even bigger than Pinkie's.
That was a long time coming. And you pulled it off beautifully. Awesome chapter!
2811500
I had considered having the expedition actually start up, and having Nictis's dilemma building up as it got closer to their destination. It'd give a bit of opportunity for adventure and such, as well as a slowly-building dread of what's coming at the end.
But in the end, I liked the idea of keeping it at "home". Nictis needed a bit of a kick if she was going to change her thinking, and this way not only gave a stronger kick, it gave two of them.
That, and the entire final scene of this chapter was one of the first scenes I thought up when I started planning out the story, and one I really liked. I was just worried about whether I'd be able to do it right...
2811124
Okay, that's my new favorite post on this subject
2811031
Yeah, apart from one (somehow subtle) clue, there hasn't been anything to pin the timeline down any more precisely than being somewhere in the thousand years Luna was gone. Maybe only 900 or so, since it was more legend and myth than recent history. Now we've got a much clearer sign of when this is compared to the show. And a good idea of what's coming in the near future.
Nothing bad could possibly come of this...
2810298
Now that makes me very curious what possible endings you've thought up! And hopefully the one I'm aiming for is deemed a good one... although I know that, no matter how this story ends, some readers will probably find it disappointing. If nothing else, the end of this story won't wrap up every thread perfectly. Some things will be unresolved until the next story...
Plot twist: Spark is a changeling too.
in my head I believe there is about 1.5 to 2 years left until the invasion and I can somewhat see how that might play out in this
Yes, it can be taught!
Took her long enough to give up that silly "dream" of self-appointed duty.
But now she can just be Meadow the pony.
2811745
Better one: a changeling tries to replace him, and during the rescue Meadow lets slip that she is also a changeling.
2811729 Well as of right now, I think the most likely ending (supported by Fragments) would be with Spark alive and Nictis in love with him still, but obviously something has happened that leads to Nictis seeking advice about coming out as Changling. What that is determines "good" from "bad"
the only REALLY bad end I could see ANYONE doing (which actually now seems the most likely by far) is somehow Spark is captured by changlings, rescued by Meadow, and in the course of that they have a fight and he says something along the line of "Until you tell me everything, I can't trust you and don't wanna see you again" or something.
Plot points it accounts for: Meadow being injure in Fragments, Meadow being in Ponyville (not exactly a short hop from Trottingham but pretty close to Everfree and Canterlot, hotbeds of Changling activity), Spark not being there with her (they are, at current, in that stage of love where a moment without the other is torture, I can't see Spark letting her go to Ponyville alone unless something happens in the interim)
Of course, you're the author, so I'm POSITIVE you can do better than me XD
2809906
I'm still a little unsure if drones have a gender. Or are they like ants or frogs, their gender determined by purpose/need rather than anything genetic. I suspect it's a like a hive of bees, the gender set by birth, and later, purpose.
Still, when he finds out Meadow isn't a pony at all but something that can mimic anypony, will he still think of Nictus as a female in a male disguise? Remember he's never seen Nictus and his first impression was Meadow. I'd almost say that "locked" the gender of the changeling in his mind... even if Meadow could get freaky and sport both genders at the same time if she was inclined to.
As an aside, I find it fascinating to see what happened elsewhere while the Elements of Harmony do battle with Nightmare Moon. And as a bonus, we now know where this story is taking place time-wise.
2812319 Well, Nictis is referred to as a he when undisguised, and their are the Princesses and the Queen, and I'm pretty sure there were a few changelings in the Infiltrator class that were also referred to as shes(she's?). I do think that their mind locks on to the pony that they created, though, so you may be correct. I'm not sure what to think, but finding out that Nictis is actually male will definitely surprise Spark.
I really enjoyed this chapter. I feel like you've been building up to this moral dilemma very slowly and very for a while now. To finally see it play out is AWESOME! I also think you hit it just about right on the nose.
It was long enough for me to really feel how heavy and tough this was for her but it wasn't so long I was getting board and wanting to see what happened next.
I also thought that the final scene with Nightmare Moon's return was a wonderful and beautiful one.
Well done!
2811124 I LOVE that movie! And that scene fits these two characters PERFECTLY!
Great choice I must say!
This chapter was bloody amazing. The pacing felt just right, which is so hard to pull off when it comes to an internal conflict. Then everything came to a head and the payoff was beyond satisfying. I'm usually too lazy to leave comments, but in this case I had no choice. This chapter clearly deserves the accolades.
AWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW?
Marvellous, simply marvellous. Its so good to see things beginning to come to fruition... though I have a feeling there is still a lot more to go, even after this story intersects with Fragments.
I simply cannot wait for more.
I also can't wait to see how Sparks reacts when he finds out his filly-friend isn't a filly by factory default.
Best of luck to you.
Its al heartwarming and daww inducing until you realize
Nictis is a male
It will be interesting to see what he does when he discovers she is a changeling...
2813445
If your significant other said:
* I am a transexual.
* I am not human.
Which phrase would be weirder?
2813612
You've got a point
2812588
Yeah, it's been building up ever since the orphanage. It's very satisfying to finally get to the part that finally bring all those little bits and thoughts and actions and experiences together.
Actually, the "Nightmare Moon" scene was one I was really looking forward to, as well. Not just the "oh crap" moment, but something about Meadow comforting Spark seemed nice to me. I like to see them happy and cuddling.
2812878
Thank you for saying so. I was more concerned about getting this chapter right than any that came before it. After all the worrying, it's been very relieving to see how positive the reception has been!
2815080
?
Sounds good to me!!
amazing as allways
MOST HAVE MORE! 
Not exactly a cliffhanger, but now we know what year it is, and the clock is ticking on the tragedy to come.
2813612 2813761
Having your lover actually be an alien is such an outlandish happenstance that the transsexual option would initially feel weirder, if only because it's a more tangible experience, and one much more likely to occur in real life. That's why it initially feels weirder, because it's instantly relatable to.
Either way, it's a double whammy, and I'm afraid for both of them. How do you reveal the greatest secret of your life to the one you want to protect? How do you react to finding out everything you knew about your lover being a lie? And how will Nictus react when his ability to tell his side of the story without external prejudice gets stripped away from him?
2821928
I guess there is a little of that. But at the same time, this is a world with several other intelligent species, which would at least make the possibility less outlandish. And that's assuming the reveal doesn't happen after the wedding-crashing, not only making changelings a known things, but probably putting them in a bit of a negative light.
THIS IS WHAT I HAVE WAITED FOR MY WHOLE LIFE. THIS. THIS. THIS IS SO BRILLIANT THAT I CAN'T EVEN EXPRESS IT IN WORDS IM ALMOST CRYING THIS WAS SO PERFECT. I WILL READ THIS STORY REPEATEDLY the perfect amount of "oh crap" , the perfect amount of DAAAAWWW, the perfect amount of sadness, the perfect amount of lovey dovey romancey stuff that makes me want to explode in a little pink flurry of stuffing and the perfect amount of awesome pony-nes all in all PERFECT in every meaning of the word
2830676
Heh, I think of that line almost every time I write about any injury to the leg that either involves anything resembling an adventure or is anywhere near the knee...
I am very glad I found this fic. It's a real gem.
2837169
Thank you
I narrated this whilst listening to various sad pieces of the piano.
Meadow finally realized; he is dead, killed by herself as she allowed herself to be one the mask she had so carefully and efficiently crafted, casting away his own face to replace it with hers.
No longer a true liar, she had become a pony, living in a lie that is now truth.
Awaiting further releases.
2837661 Only if you consider Nictis and Meadow to be different people, with different wants and desires. I honestly don't think that's the case.
2840154
In a way, they are.
Another downvote, yet still no word why. I wish people would just take a moment to say why they dislike the story. Seems like the decent thing to do...
Figures. I swear, the timing was literature perfect. "I have no place there, but I have one here" And BAM Doomsday clock. Oh well, at least now I can count down accurately. Also, sorry if I am spouting nonsense to everyone, I should've fallen asleep a good while ago. Two years left. Two years of trials and torment.
2813612 transexual, easy. After all, if they are my 'significant other' then they are clearly emotional enough to understand, even if they are not human.
As long as they aren't a fucking tentacle thing, or a squirrel.
2853182
Erm... does that mean a transexual isn't emotional enough to understand, even if they were your significant other? Or something else? ...I don't get it.
I don't know, it's all just strange to me. I don't get how "a small portion of my biology is different" is so much bigger of a deal than "almost all of my biology is different." Or, in the case of (some) transexuals, and gender-shifted changelings, "a small portion of my biology used to be different."
2843946 Many people don't even bother to read a story at all- they just downvote based upon (often incorrect) assumptions and move on without a thought. I'd say about a third of all negative-rated non-trollfics on this site are well-written stories that were swamped by such people.
2866243
Oh, I know. There's lots of things that can earn a story a downvote without even reading. "Dark" or "Tragedy" tags might get an automatic downvote, despite "Dark" ranging from "the darkest moments of the show" to "Cupcakes". Others might downvote simply because the story has the wrong "ship". For example, I've seen people who have said they'll downvote anything where Lyra or Bon Bon (Or Vinyl and Octavia) aren't paired together, and I've seen others who said they'd do it if they are paired together, and several who go berserk if they're paired with somepony else; you literally can't win in some cases. Spin-off stories tend to get this even worse, which I find kind of amusing when you consider that everything written here is a spin-off story (That said, I do tend to avoid spin-off stories in most cases, for good reasons, though an occasional one catches my eye).
But there's no way to tell if that little red thumb is any of the above, or if it's related to the content of the story. It's says too little.
To complicate it even more, there's no way to tell if a downvote is "eh, I didn't care for it" versus "this is horrible trash that must not scar another eyeball!"
It makes the whole downvote system of questionable utility to an author. It might reflect the quality of the writing, or it might reflect only the assumptions and personal tastes of a few individuals who happen to see the story and feel very strongly about one of the themes that is (or is not) present. It's why I wish people would leave feedback, even if (Or possibly, especially if) it's just because the story has some theme they don't personally like. A downvote on its own tells me nothing.
I can't complain too much about it when I've got a pretty good ratio, but I really like to get feedback. Despite how encouraging it is to hear what everyone thinks I did right, I'd also like to know what people think I did wrong, too.
2866513 Sometimes it's more simple than that. They judge it based on the description (or even just the title!). Some people are great at stories but bad at synopses, but even a well-written synopsis can draw this.
Sometimes it's even more simple. They see all the downvotes and assume it means it must be bad. Or maybe they just hate the author and presume everything he/she writes is crap.
Knighty should make voting only available within the chapters themselves. People should start suggesting that.