The captured Changeling sits despondent in the interrogation chair. Looking up, he sees what can only be his interrogator enter the room.
The captured Changeling sits despondent in the interrogation chair. Looking up, he sees what can only be his interrogator enter the room. A one way glass window holds Celestia and Luna, or at least, that is what the Changeling assumes. The interrogator sits down, rather uncomfortably. Apparently, he has not had much experience in dealing with Changelings; who had? The Changeling surveys his surroundings. Three white walls and one with the mirror and door. A table waits patiently in front of him while a light shines overhead. The Changeling is bound to the chair by his forelegs and wings. A faint humming sound suggests some kind of magic dampening field. The interrogator is an Earth pony, or as the Changeling designation system states, a norm. The interrogator opens his mouth to speak but two green eyes glare him into silence; he is clearly afraid of the Changeling. Overpowering his fear, the interrogator speaks.
Cover art is provided by jjamess10 because he's awesome.
The captured Changeling sits despondent in the interrogation chair. Looking up, he sees what can only be his interrogator enter the room. A one way glass window holds Celestia and Luna, or at least, that is what the Changeling assumes. The interrogator sits down, rather uncomfortably. Apparently, he has not had much experience in dealing with Changelings; who had? The Changeling surveys his surroundings. Three white walls and one with the mirror and door. A table waits patiently in front of him while a light shines overhead. The Changeling is bound to the chair by his forelegs and wings. A faint humming sound suggests some kind of magic dampening field. The interrogator is an Earth pony, or as the Changeling designation system states, a norm. The interrogator opens his mouth to speak but two green eyes glare him into silence; he is clearly afraid of the Changeling.
Overpowering his fear, the interrogator speaks. “I trust you slept well.”
The Changeling smirks. It seems the interrogator is very afraid. The Changeling remains silent, prompting the interrogator to speak again. “You have not eaten your food. We don’t want you to die so simply say what you want to eat and we will do our best to provide you with it.”
The interrogator pauses again, trying to induce a response in the Changeling. The Changeling blinks; he is hungry, but that can wait for later. The interrogator is very upset, now, and throws nervous glances at the glass periodically. So, it looks like at least one of the Princesses is in there. Having acquired the information the Changeling was after, he speaks. “It is very presumptuous to assume all Changelings speak equestrian.” He states, simply.
The interrogator visibly relaxes, then straightens again very quickly, shooting another glance at the glass in the process. The Changeling goes silent again and the interrogator speaks. “You have not touched your food. What will you eat?”
The Changeling smirks, again, causing the interrogator to become more nervous. “Dragon eggs, over easy, with salt and vinegar.” He replies, snidely.
Hearing a shift behind the glass case, the interrogator gulps. “You’re lying.” He states.
The Changeling’ smile lessens. “What if I am? I have no reason to desire life. Or do I? You have no idea; that is why I am here.”
The interrogator seems to have remembered his training and grows more serious. “Changeling’s have just invaded the capital of Equestria. We won’t simply let that go. We will get our information, whatever means necessary.”
The Changeling leans forward as much as he can in his bindings. “Sparrows bones will break and moan, your words are just as hollow.” He says in a sing-song tone, leaning back.
The interrogator grimaces. He exits the room for a moment, coming back with a white bag. Reaching into it, the interrogator retrieves a daisy sandwich and some water with a straw. He bites into the daisy sandwich, obviously in an attempt to provoke the Changeling.
“If I had anything in my stomach, your eating would quickly change that.” The Changeling says, leering at the interrogator. The interrogator sets the food down on the table, close enough for the Changeling to smell it, however, not close enough to eat it. The Changeling draws away from the meal, leaning back in his bindings.
“We’ve captured thousands of your kind. It won’t be long before we have all of you in our custody.”
The Changeling laughs. His laughs echo through the nearly empty room, reverberating off of every surface. After a minute, the Changeling stops, suddenly, and glares at the interrogator. “Why don’t you interrogate a different one of your ‘thousands’ of Changelings?” He asks, sneering.
The interrogator frowns and stands up. “Perhaps we will. Let me know when you want to eat something.” He motions to the glass and two guards trot in and carry the Changeling to his cell.
(*)
The Changeling sits in the same chair as yesterday, with the same interrogator across from him. “My, you still work here?” The Changeling jeers.
The interrogator frowns. “You still haven’t eaten anything.” He says, quietly.
The Changeling smiles. “The service here really stinks.”
The interrogator sighs. “What is your name? Do Changelings use names?”
The Changeling leans back in his chair. If he could cross his holed forelegs, he would. “No, we just use derogatory expletives when addressing each other. ‘Shitface, come in for dinner’.” He mocks.
The interrogator rubs his eyebrows with his hooves. “What is your name?” The interrogator repeats.
“Charlie Horse Chaplin.” The Changeling replies.
“Name?” The interrogator says through clenched teeth.
“Queen Chrysalis.” The changeling says, defiantly.
“Liar.” The interrogator yells.
“Well, now you’ve hurt my feelings.” The Changeling remarks, sarcastically. The interrogator slams a hoof on the table, crushing the daisy sandwich placed there. “Your cruelty to vegetable matter knows no bounds, I’m sure.” The Changeling says.
“What will you eat?” The interrogator barks.
“Screw you.” The Changeling replies.
Unintelligible gurgles erupt from the interrogator’s mouth. Two guards carry the Changeling away, back to his cell.
(*)
The Changeling looks about the interrogation room, dreadfully hungry. The interrogator trots in and sits down, setting his forelegs on the table.
“I’ll bet anything you’re getting pretty hungry, right about now.” The interrogator says.
The Changeling looks away. “If I was, there’s nothing you or the Princesses could do about it.”
The interrogator raises an eyebrow, surprised. “Why is that?”
The Changeling apathetically rolls his head to look at the interrogator. “Because-not to put too fine of a point on it-you’re not a Changeling!” The Changeling screams the last part at the interrogator, causing him to flinch. The Changeling rolls his head to the side, again.
The interrogator leans closer to the Changeling. “According to the file, you need love. Unfortunately, that would be very hard for us to provide. Is there anything else you can eat?”
The Changeling laughs at the interrogator. “My, you don’t know anything. Don’t bother trying to ‘acquire’ love for me; I can’t collect it, even if I wanted to.”
The interrogator leans back in his chair, pondering these words. “What do you mean?” He asks.
“Bite me.” The Changeling replies-still looking at the wall. There is a silence while the two look away from each other. The interrogator rubs his eyes with a hoof and looks back at the Changeling.
“Just, tell me how to feed you.” The interrogator says.
The Changeling turns his head to look at the interrogator. “Let me go.” He says, simply. The interrogator looks down at the floor. “I didn’t think so. See you in Tartarus, asshole.”
The two guards trot in and take the Changeling away, back to his cell.
(*)
The Changeling sits in the chair in the interrogation room. He has been there for several minutes and the interrogator is still absent. Hunger gnaws at the Changeling’s stomach, weakening his resolve. The interrogator trots in after a few moments with two guards and another Changeling in tow. The other Changeling is bound just like the first one, with his wings and forelegs behind his back. Correction: her back. The Changeling’s blue eyes glistened with tears at, what seems to be, her recent incarceration. The first Changeling briefly links with the female.
Are you all right? He asks, through the mental link.
My exoskeleton is cracked on the side. I am leaking life. The Changeling replies.
He nods, looking up at the ceiling and listening to its familiar hum. It seems, the magic suppresser doesn’t work with linking. The Changeling smiles at this very useful piece of information.
The interrogator speaks. “We captured another Changeling. Can you eat now, somehow?”
The Changeling smirks. “I’m sure it’s irrelevant to you, as you’ve captured thousands of Changelings. But, this Changeling is dying.”
The interrogator is taken aback by this. He sits, dumbfounded, trying to decide what to do. Eventually, he decides to stand up and trot towards the new Changeling. She shirks away from him, but he moves with an astonishing degree of grace and purpose. He inspects the cracked carapace, carefully running his hoof along the wound. He motions to the window and the two guards come in. “Get a doctor. Make him dress this and wrap it up, very tightly.” He commands. When they leave the room with the female Changeling, he sits down and wipes his brow. The Changeling seated across from him makes no sound, choosing to sit in silence.
After a few moments, the interrogator turns to the Changeling and sighs. “Is there some way you can eat because we have him?” He asks.
The Changeling replies, unmoving. “It’s a her.” He states.
The interrogator nods. “What about you?”
The Changeling looks away, hunger biting him. “I’m a he.” He says. They sit in silence for a few minutes until the two guards return with the female Changeling.
The male Changeling links with the female one again. How do you feel?
Not too well. The guards were chasing me and my friend. I was the only one captured, but, there was no more running for my friend. She says, through the link.
I am sorry.
I know.
The male Changeling changes the subject. I am in need of sustenance. Have you collected, recently?
Yes. Take this. I have plenty, now. She says, as sadly as the link can project.
The male Changeling mentally consumes the love energy, quickly. With some of his hunger sated, he leans back in his chair. The two guards take the female Changeling outside, presumably, to her cell. The Changeling turns back to the interrogator. “You have one question, no more.”
The interrogator nods. “What is your name?”
The Changeling hesitates then gives in. “Edward, my name is Edward.”
The Guards pick Edward up, and take him to his cell.
Edward the changeling sits across from the interrogator. The interrogator has tried to elicit conversation from Edward several times but Edward is unresponsive. Among his problems, Edward was just moved to a cell beside a diamond dog who likes to scratch on his bars in the middle of the night. Edward fights to stay awake in the interrogation room. Gathering up the energy he needs, he speaks. “You’re not very good at your job.” He says, a little feebly.
The interrogator’s expression doesn’t change. “Why is that?”
“You had one question to find out anything from how many changelings are left in Equestria to why we tried to invade Canterlot. Yet, you asked my name. That doesn’t scream ‘expert’ to me.” Edward says.
The interrogator bites his lip. “I thought the changelings tried to invade Canterlot for the love.”
Edward laughs. “Love isn’t exactly a breeze to collect when you’re terrifying the populace. We could neither invade Canterlot for the love directly nor explicitly.” He says.
“Then why invade it at all?” The interrogator asks.
“We wanted to try your donuts.” Edward hisses.
The interrogator frowns. “You’re l-“
“I’m what? Were you going to say I was lying? That would have been rich.” Edward laughs again. “What did you say was the reason you put a diamond dog in the cell next to mine?” He asks.
“Prison overpopulation.” The interrogator responds, automatically.
“Hehe, right.” Edward leans back into his chair.
“How and when did you replace Princess Cadence?” The interrogator asks, changing the subject.
“Funny, I thought Queen Chrysalis replaced her. Can’t be right all the time, I suppose.” Edward responds. The interrogator’s teeth grind together and he looks at the glass for a moment again. “That’s another thing; who is on the other side of that glass?” Edward asks.
The interrogator wipes the panicked expression off his face and sits up straight. “I ask the questions, not you.” He says.
“Be my guest.” Edward replies.
“How and when did Queen Chrysalis replace Princess Cadence.” The interrogator asks.
Edward smirks. “We lured her in with the promise of candy.”
The interrogator slams a hoof down on the table. “Answer the question.” He demands.
Edwards tries to obey the impulse of stroking his chin with a hoof, an effort that proves to be fruitless against his restraints. “I don’t think I will, actually.”
The interrogator motions to the glass and the familiar guards pick Edward up and throw him in his cell.
(*)
Edward sits in the interrogation room, almost sleeping. The interrogator trots in, slamming the door behind him to startle Edward awake. The sleep deprived changeling forces his eyes open to concentrate on the interrogator.
“I trust you slept well.” The interrogator says, impassively. Edward spits. “I take it you’re still having trouble with the diamond dog in the cell next to you.” The interrogator says, the barest hint of a smile creeping up his face.
“You’re a sharp one, you are.” Edward says, sarcastically.
“It would be easier if you just told me what I want to know. You could get a pardon from the Princesses and be let free.”
Edward laughs, hoarsely. “Be let free to do what? If I give you any information, I’m dead. Luckily for me, it won’t be too long before I die here, anyway.” Edward says, smiling up at the buzzing ceiling.
The interrogator frowns. “What do you mean?” He asks.
Edward slumps his head forward until it hits the interrogation table and he stares up at the interrogator. “It’s a secret. Shhhh.” Edward says, laughing again.
The interrogator bites his tongue. “The wounded changeling, she’s dying isn’t she.”
It wasn’t a question, it was a fact.
“She gave me all the love she had collected and now she doesn’t have any more. Bit by bit, you’re killing both of us. Unlike you, we’ll die serving our hive. What do you have? When you die, will you look upon this with happy memories?” Edward asks then shakes his head. “No, you’ll remember this as that time you killed two ponies because they were different than you.” Edward says, thumping his head on the side of the table.
The interrogator stares coldly at Edward, daring him to speak again. “When you said that you couldn’t collect the love, what did you mean?” He asks.
Edward brings his head up until his chin rests on the table edge. “Changeling’s don’t take kindly to job swaps. My job isn’t to collect love.” Edward says, flatly. His green eyes glimmer, slightly, as they look at the interrogator.
“What is your job?” The interrogator asks.
Edward smirks. “Tailor.” He says, snidely.
The interrogator grimaces. “We already know your friend’s job was to steal love. What other jobs could there be?”
Edward shrugs. “Motivational speaking?”
A sign from the interrogator and the guards take Edward away, throwing him into his cell.
(*)
Edward slumps forward in his chair, looking at the interrogator with dead eyes. From what he can gather, the other changeling was ushered off to some hospital, yesterday. The sleeping situation is getting worse and now Edward has to deal with the diamond dog in the cage next to him and the train station, breezing in very loudly at some odd hours, below his cell.
“If not for the love, why did Queen Chrysalis stage the invasion of Canterlot?” The interrogator asks.
Edward rolls his eyes. “You already asked that.” He states.
The interrogator shrugs. “Humor me.” He says.
“Well, since you asked nicely.” Edward taunts.
The interrogator smiles. “You know, Edward, they say the eyes are windows to the soul.” The interrogator says, standing up and trotting behind Edward. Edward stiffens. “When the other changeling, the female one, came in, I noticed a bit of a discrepancy.” He opens the door and retrieves a glass of water. Edward’s eyes follow him, warily. “The female changeling’s eyes,” He motions at his own eyes, “Were blue.” He sits back down into his chair. “Yours are green.”
The interrogator takes a sip of his water. “It could just be about genders, I thought. But, after talking to some eyewitnesses to the invasion, I found that the pupils on Queen Chrysalis’ eyes were green and beyond that every other changeling seen had blue eyes. You could be royalty. No. If you were royalty, they would be pushing to get you back more. It’s not a shapeshifting trick because if you could shapeshift in here you wouldn’t be here. What about your job, eh? You brought up a job change when you said you couldn’t harvest love. What an interesting thought.”
Edward sits motionless, watching the interrogator gesture as he moves along his train of thought. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
The interrogator shrugs. “Perhaps. You have decided not to tell me anything. Naturally, this puts me in a very bad position because I want you to talk to me. I would be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy our little chats together but through them I just can’t grasp one thing. Do you know what that is?”
Edward grimaces. “Why you talk so much?”
The interrogator takes another sip of water, watching Edward all the while. “I’m afraid not. What I can’t grasp is just what you’re after. I’ve offered you several things and you’ve turned them all down. Escape is impossible and I doubt that anypony plans to break you out after all this time.”
Edward laughs. “I’m not after anything; I’m just sitting here until you shut up. So far, I’ve been disappointed.”
The interrogator takes another glance at the window. “What is your job, then, Edward?”
“Mailmare,” Edward says.
“I doubt you’d be a very good one.” The interrogator comments.
Edward beams. “How interesting: I’m pretty sure that’s the first time you’ve insulted me.”
The interrogator cocks his head and thinks for a moment. “Maybe that’s the first time you’ve told the truth.” He says.
“You don’t like me very much, do you?” Edward asks.
The interrogator looks to the glass. “No.” Edward blinks. “I think you’re obnoxious, cruel, and rude and I have no sympathy for you or your blasted kind. However, fate has dealt me the hoof that, if you cooperate, I am the only pony who can get you out of prison.”
He looks at Edward with a burning disgust. “Truth be told, I can’t decide if I want this to end quickly, so I can get you out of my sight, or if I want this to drag out, so I can watch you slowly deteriorate into nothing.”
Edward slumps back into his chair, speechless.
“Our time is up, today.” The interrogator states, standing up.
The two guards walk into the room and take the frozen Edward to his cell.
Edward sits in the cold glow of the interrogation room. A wide grin adorns his weary face and he looks expectantly at the door. He can hear the guards that brought him here shuffling nervously behind the glass but the interrogator is nowhere to be seen. "Not that I don't love the 'me' time but I don't suppose my interrogator is coming soon."
The door opens.
"Quiet, prisoner." One of the guards responds. The door closes but opens again and the interrogator trots in.
"Feeling well?" The interrogator asks.
Edward coughs. "Dandy."
The interrogator sits down and opens a briefcase, reaching inside he pulls out several files and lays them out on the table. "This," He points to a file. "Is a report on the injuries sustained by residents of Canterlot during the invasion attempt."
Edward glances at the file then up at him.
"Aside from some cuts and bruises none of the residents were harmed and there were no fatalities. Initially, this was shrugged off as orders for the changelings not to harm the residents to speed along the harvesting of love. According to you," The interrogator points at Edward. "The changelings weren't there for love." The interrogator stands up and paces around the room. Edward's smile grows wider.
"Why would an invasion force not harm any ponies if not to keep them alive for the love. To keep them alive for another reason?" The interrogator glances at Edward's smiling face. "I think not. No, I believe that this report is a lie. I looked into it and found this." The interrogator slides another file across the table. "This is a list of ponies who went missing shortly after the invasion. Of them, over ninety percent of them were in Canterlot during the attempted invasion."
Edward laughs. "What an amazing coincidence. The possibilities this invokes. Why, it's almost as if these ponies almost died and wanted to move to a less stressful environment."
The interrogator sits down again and smiles. "Such sarcasm from a dying creature."
Edward leans back in his chair. "I think you underestimate how easy it is to take over somepony's life."
The interrogator's eyes narrow and his smile drops. "You can take one but we keep finding you out. None of your pathetic disguises fool us for very long."
Edward shrugs. "Unless the changelings you discover aren't the best and there are thousands more around you every day or, for some reason, that changeling wanted to be caught."
The interrogator grimaces. "Do you honestly think I can't see through your disguises instantly? How misguided."
Edward laughs again then collapses as a spear of pain shoots through him. "How well do you know you colleagues? Coworkers? Friends? How good is their memory usually? Do any of them keep a diary? You have no idea how these things help us because you don't even know what we do."
Edward coughs. The interrogator looks down at him with disdain. "Some of these missing ponies probably ran away, I'll grant you that. But I'm willing to bet that most of them were changelings or changeling targets. They replaced ponies during the confusion of the invasion, then they did something, picked something up, something you needed. When their job was done they disappeared into the fold. It's pretty likely we don't even know it's missing yet. I'm nearly certain this is true. What I'm not certain about is why you're talking; the female changeling we apprehended says nothing and sits in despondent silence yet you mock me, why?"
Edward sits back up and shrugs. "It passes the time."
The interrogator leans forward, his brows furrowed. "I don't think you're waiting to die at all; I think you're waiting for something, not death."
Edward's smile spreads across his cheeks. "I suppose you'll have to wait and see."
The interrogator slumps back in his chair and motions to the guards. The guards trot in and take Edward to his cell, closing the door with a drawn out screech.
(*)
Edward sits in a chair in the interrogation room. Shortly after his being seated, the interrogator trots in with his briefcase in tow. The interrogator sits down. "Let's talk queens."
Edward ignores his command and wriggles in his chair uncomfortably. "You changed my chair."
The interrogator raises an eyebrow.
Edward continues. "My chair, the chair I always sit in for this, you changed it."
The interrogator reaches into his briefcase and pulls out a sketchbook. "This is a sketch of Queen Chrysalis, made by one of Princess Cadence's bridesmaids after the royal wedding."
The interrogator slides the drawing across the table. Edward looks at the interrogator, crossly. "Give me my chair back, then we'll talk."
Edward hears something fall over behind the glass and both he and the interrogator's glances shift toward it, then back to each other.
"I probably don't really want to know but how do you know that's not 'your chair'?" The interrogator asks, sighing.
"It's none of your business but I've been steadily carving my name into my chair with my left hoof." Edward hears a scuffling noise coming from behind the glass and cocks an ear toward it.
The interrogator rubs at a spot between his eyes with his hoof for a moment. "Queen chrysalis has predominantly green eyes like you. Unlike you, however, the Queen has pupils. Is this significant or is it just to signify that she is indeed the queen?"
A lance of pain shoots through Edward again and a piece of his carapace cracks. "Damn." Edward's face contorts in pain and he clutches in vain at his dissembling shell. He laughs raspily. "They don't tell you about that in training."
Edward's vision blurs into colors and shapes; after a few moments the shapes disappear and the colors change to an endless black.
(*)
A needle shoots through Edward's mind and injects love energy straight in. He always fancied it to be pieces of a dream and when Princess Luna would enter a pony's dream she too could feel it, taste it.
A voice slices through this stuff of dreams. You screwed up.
Edward scrunches his eyes closed tighter. I had it under control.
The voice comes again. Clearly.
There's a pause, where neither of them speak, growing wider as time passes.
Edward finally breaks it. You didn't have to come.
The voice brushes the comment off. Nonsense, I was assigned here; I'm not going to disobey a direct order.
We both know that's not true. Edward persists.
The voice ignores him. Are you okay?
Edward pauses, just for a moment this time. No.
The voice floods his mind, for a moment, before retracting. I'm here for you.
Edward opens his eyes and winces at the flood of bright light that enters them. An incessant beeping noise sounds to his left and his temples pound with gigantic force.
"Ow," Edward says.
"Oh, sweet Celestia." Through Edward's thrumming brain he hears a pony gallop away from him and return with another.
"'Allo, 'ow are we today?" Edward's stare fixated on a grey coated pony with a white coat on. "Still no speaking yet, ey? My name is Doctor Guérir. You were looking pretty bad earlier but we wrapped up the cracks on your exoskeleton and you are looking much better now. I will be perfectly honest there was not much we could do. You changeling anatomy is rather unfamiliar n'est-ce pa?"
Edward closes his eyes and slips back into unconsciousness, the nurse's half-lidded smile lingering even as his dreams begin clutching at his conscious mind and dragging it into Princess Luna's domain.
(*)
Edward sits in the interrogation room, once again bound and alone. An extra chair sits across the table from him beside the interrogator's chair. The interrogator walks in with another pony in tow. The pony is female with a deep red coat and black mane. She beams continuously from when she enters the room to when she sits down. A bead of sweat meanders down the interrogators face.
"Feeling better I trust," The interrogator says.
It's good to see you, Edward.
Edward's eyes dart toward where the link came from and settle on the mare attending the interrogator. The mare locks eyes with Edward and smiles, coyly. A bit of green flickers around the edges of the mare's eyes. Edward smirks and looks squarely at the interrogator. "I've never been better."
Edward sits in a chair, eyeing the two ponies who just entered. One of the ponies looks at him with contained warmth. The other looks at him with unbridled disgust.
"What do you know about fencing, Edward?" The interrogator begins.
Edward raises and eyebrow at the question, then smiles. "I'm pretty sure you stab them with the pointy bit."
The interrogator smiles. "Moves you can do in fencing are split into offensive and defensive and one of the offensive moves is called a feint." The interrogator stands up and the mare beside him tries to keep her false calm firmly glued to her face. "In a feint you move to perform an action but cancel it to draw your opponent's concentration to the area you pretend to strike instead of the one you mean to."
Edward beams. "I suppose you're an enthusiast of this game."
The interrogator frowns. "Not really. I tried of course but in the end I find I much prefer logic puzzles." The interrogator's grin returns with redoubled strength and he looks straight at Edward. "Logic puzzles like you."
The mare sitting across from Edward shifts in her chair.
"I like to think of myself as a difficult Sudoku." Edward states.
The interrogator laughs. "I'm sure you would. In case you might find it interesting, I have deduced the reason of your collapse to be a shortage of love energy to sustain yourself."
Edward leans back in his chair. "Whose fault would that be?"
The interrogator moves to stand beside the sitting mare. "The hospital you were sent to could do little to nothing to help a problem of that nature... or could it?" The interrogator moves away from the mare to stand behind Edward. "Why don't we take a look at the series of events? You do not receive love energy and as such you begin to break apart and die. You are sent to a pony hospital which wrap bandages around your dissolving exoskeleton and hope for the best. After a few days you recover enough to be sent back here for interrogation. Do you take me for a fool, changeling? Do you think I'm too stupid to notice your cheap tricks?"
Edward hears a sound coming from behind the glass. He looks up to see the interrogator with his ears cocked towards the door. The interrogator speaks again in a low tone. "There was another changeling in that hospital. I know this for a fact. When I find her - and I will - it will be all your fault. And I'm going to enjoy telling you of her capture." The interrogator walks towards the door, opens it, and shuts it with the mare trotting after him. Two guards walk in and take Edward to his cell.
(*)
Edward sits in the interrogation room. The diamond dog that caused him so much trouble was taken away during the night, no doubt to be executed. Edward spares another glance at the glass. The interrogator walks out of the door with the mare in tow and they both seat themselves.
Something's wrong, Edward. The voice interjects.
Edward tilts his head, questioningly. What do you mean?
This is our second session in the same room and we haven't even been introduced. Why? Worry starts creeping into the voice.
He's smart. I wouldn't put it past him to figure you out. Edward says, idly.
If he has, why keep me out of prison? He could easily have me arrested if he blew the whistle.
Edward shakes his head. I doubt it's any form of compassion. For now just keep your head down until Awakening.
Understood.
"Edward!"
Edward's eyes dart toward the interrogator. "What?"
The interrogator rolls his eyes. "I asked you if you know why I brought up fencing yesterday."
Edward smirks. "I assumed you had given up interrogating me and decided on small talk instead."
The interrogator leans over the table and meets eyes with Edward. "I propose the 'invasion' was little more than a fantastic feint to fool every pony in Canterlot and beyond, that the city itself was your goal. By doing this you drew attention away from your real aim."
Edward leans over as far as he can with his bindings. "What would our real aim be?"
The interrogator leans back in his chair and frowns. "I don't think it's something I could guess right away. No. You're crafty devils. Something small and not easily checked, or we would have noticed by now, a magical artifact?"
Edward glances both ways then whispers conspiratorially. "It was a t-shirt from the gift shop. We had to plan an elaborate exercise but we saved four bits on it."
The interrogator stands up and Edward's eyes track him. "What could possibly be so important that you were willing to compromise the knowledge of your existence just to acquire? Surely information that valuable wouldn't be given up so easily. What in Equestria for? A spellbook? A map? A small statue? What?"
The interrogator clutches his temples and falls to the floor. After a minute he stands up again breathing heavily. "Let's talk about some Changeling society for a moment." The interrogator sits down and puts his front hooves together. "You're ruler is obviously Queen Chrysalis."
"For now," Edward affirms.
"Is the queen the only member of the hive capable of producing offspring or can the workers claim this as well?" The interrogator asks.
Edward smirks again. "Actually, a little known fact about changelings is that they can make ponies pregnant with just a hoofshake."
The interrogator glances down at his hoof for a moment and shakes his head. "I'll take that as a 'no'."
Edward grins. "I do find it odd, however, that a species which can't mate has male and female workers."
Edward leans closer to the interrogator. "You said produce offspring; that doesn't mean we can't mate."
The interrogator coughs several times, uncomfortably. "That's all the time we have today."
The interrogator gestures to the window and two guards trot in and carry Edward to his cell.
(*)
Edward sits in his chair in the interrogation room, steadily carving away at the material constructing it. The interrogator trots in with the mare behind and sits down with a smile plastered across his face. "Do you know why I'm happy, Edward?"
Edward looks up at the buzzing ceiling in faux thought for a moment. "You stopped eating so many hay fries and started drinking more water?"
The interrogator's smile persists. "I know what you are."
Edward raises an eyebrow and leans back. "Nope, I've got nothing."
The interrogator runs a hoof through his mane. "The idea struck me because of the odd circumstances with the blue-eyed changeling. At that point you had no love energy and the other changeling did. Despite being obviously hungry, however, the blue-eyed changeling hadn't used the love she had collected. I thought about what situations could prompt this."
"Maybe she just didn't like the taste." Edward remarks.
The interrogator rubs at his eyes in a futile attempt to wipe away the dark rings beneath them. "Interesting but unlikely. No, I believe your job is as a love refiner of sorts, a chef, if you will. You craft the raw love the blue-eyed changelings collected and distribute it among them. This is a simple deterrent to changelings considering going rogue because they have no means to survive by themselves. I'm sure in battle you also coordinate strategies and such simply through your minds. The changeling Queen would of course be unaffected by these limits in abilities."
The interrogator looks at Edward expectantly. Edward tilts his head to the side and smiles. "You seem certain you're correct."
The interrogator sighs. "This is your last chance, Edward. You can either tell me everything you know. Or we start to torture it out of you."
Edward furrows his eyebrows. "'We'?"
The interrogator grins and a wild look flickers through his eyes. "Why yes. I believe that's where you come in, Needler. That is your strong suit." The interrogator leans down and smiles gleefully at the sitting mare. "Isn't it, 'Needler'?"
No. The voice whispers in Edward's head, suddenly realizing the interrogator's intentions.
The interrogator swivels his head to look at Edward. "Checkmate."
The second hand slides slowly down the clock face and the interrogator looks at Edward with an unflinching smile. "Let's start with the obvious: what did the changelings steal from Canterlot during the feint invasion."
Edward rolls his eyes. "Yeah, that's what I thought the obvious was too."
The interrogator's smile grows wider. "Needler, hit him."
Needler squirms and eventually stands and slaps Edward across the face, a look of pain appearing on her face for a moment as she does so. "Please, Needler, at least pretend you mean it. Hit him again, harder."
Needler slaps Edward again, this time with enough force to knock his chair over.
The interrogator nods. "That's better. Pick him up."
Needler picks him up and sets the chair upright.
"What did the changelings steal?" The interrogator presses.
Edward glares at the interrogator. "You'll have to do much better than that."
The interrogator shrugs. "I neither have to nor intend to do anything; that's Needler's job."
Needler gulps.
The interrogator motions to Needler. "Bend his wing."
Needler casts a nervous glance at the interrogator then grabs hold of Edward's left wing in her teeth.
"What did the changelings steal from Canterlot?"
Edward clenches his teeth. "I don't know what you're talking about."
The interrogator waves a hoof at Needler and she turns her head, eliciting a sharp snapping noise.
"Gah! Damn it." Edward twitches his leg as spasms of pain slide through it.
"Did you know I used to be a doctor?" The interrogator asks, inspecting Edward's newly created wound.
Needler exchanges glances with Edward.
"It's true. I remember my daughter used to love to play with my stethoscope and whatnot." The interrogator stands and stretches his legs for a minute. "You know, even though changeling wings are designed a bit differently than pegasi wings, there are plenty of nerves all throughout them. To obtain flight you need these nerves so you can meet the different flying requirements varying with wind speed. These nerves are completely necessary for you to fly."
With another wave of his hoof, Needler grabs hold of his other wing in her teeth. "However, when Needler snaps your wing these same nerves act as a bane to you. Each nerve lights up and sends the information directly to your brain in a not so gentle manner. I guess what I'm trying to say is," the interrogator leans down next to Edward's ear, "this is going to hurt a lot."
Needler snaps Edward's other wing and he cries out in pain. His head hits the table with a thump and he breathes heavily.
"I see fit to tell you that I'm enjoying myself quite a lot. I can keep asking you questions and Needler will just keep hurting you." The interrogator turns toward him again.
Edward's limp form moans.
The interrogator leans closer. "Assuming you still possess the ability to speak, what did the changelings take from Canterlot?"
Edward rolls over and glares at the interrogator. Needler starts moving toward him but the interrogator holds up a hoof and she stops.
The interrogator sits down again.. "Do you want to hear something funny about changelings? They don't have any originality, and that's not hyperbole. You see, changelings can only mimic what they can see so if they mimic somepony they've only seen wear a hat, then if somepony tries to remove the hat they revert to their changeling forms. Interesting, isn't it? That means no hat, no sunglasses, no saddle, and no cutie marks. Basically, the only thing they can do is approximate how somepony would look as they get older, no more." The interrogator leans over until he's eye level with Edward, lying on the table. "It's a pretty big flaw, if you ask me."
The interrogator leans back down in his chair. "You have quite a lot of holes on you, don't you Edward? Needler, make a new one."
(*)
Edward spills blood onto the floor. The interrogator peers at it. "Huh, so it is red. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't surprised. Oh well."
Edward coughs, spilling more blood onto the floor. The interrogator looks up at the clock. "Our time is up for today."
Edward's ears twitch.
"Fortunately, we're going to continue past our time until I get something out of you."
Edward slumps even further. The interrogator laughs. "You were waiting for that, weren't you? Thought you could hold out till time was up, didn't you? Your lack of originality foils you once again."
Edward coughs again.
The interrogator composes himself once more. "What did the changelings steal from Canterlot?"
Edward mumbles something.
The interrogator grows serious. "Speak up."
Edward rolls over so his face is up. "A book of stars."
The interrogator smiles. "Much better. Tell me about the queens. Are they only created from other queens or is it something else?"
Edward chuckles, blood foaming to the top of his mouth. "One death, two death, three death more. That's the first step in a changeling core. Pain here, pain there, pain all around. This is the second step before you're crowned." Edward chuckles again then convulses, a look of pain flashing on his face and a trickle or blood running from his mouth down his cheek.
"That's not a very good answer."
Edward convulses again, then lays still. The interrogator sighs. "I suppose that's enough for today."
He waves at the mirror and the guards take Edward away to his cell after a mare tends to his wounds.
(*)
Edward lies in his damp cell, still breathing but for the most part unmoving.
Are you all right, Edward? Needler's voice comes through the link once more.
Edward closes his eyes. No.
There's a pause before she continues. I'm sorry.
About the torture, or about how I caved and told him everything? Edward snaps at her.
I wouldn't call what you told him everything. She says, skeptically.
Edward rolls over. I would call it enough.
It's not your fault.
Chrysalis would see it differently.
Through the link, Edward could almost feel her shake her head. It's not like he can tell what we're doing here just from what you told him.
Edward sits up in his cell, suddenly. That's just it, isn't it? 'Just from what I told him,' what else does he know? How did he know about what he called 'unoriginality' in changelings? How did he know you were a changeling? He must be getting this information from Somewhere, but where?
Edward, you said he was clever. Maybe it was just an elaborate guess he was checking your reaction for. She says.
No, there was something off. Something when he was listing what we can't do that was strange. If I could just remember, then we'd have something. Edward lies down again, his brows furrowed.
Get some sleep. You'll need it when he starts all over again to try and get something else out of you. She says, her yawn coming through the link.
How much longer until Awakening?
Once more, he could feel her rolling her eyes through the link. Sleep, Edward. Now.
Edward rolls over onto a slightly dryer part of his cell and, after a few restless hours, goes to sleep.
Edward sits bound in his chair in the interrogation room. The interrogator sits across from him and Needler stands in the corner with a neutral expression. The interrogator continues his thought. "I thought that even given a steady supply of love energy, it would take at least a week before you'd be healed enough to come back in here. Yet here you are and not three days have passed, how remarkable."
Edward glares at the interrogator.
"I'd imagine, your ability to kill others is only dwarfed by your own resilience to being killed." The interrogator says, glancing at him.
Edward doesn't move. The interrogator sighs. "I checked with the librarian and several custodians in the Canterlot Library and the Canterlot Archives. There were no missing star charts."
Edward and Needler exchange glances. Edward smiles. "It looks like you got me."
The interrogator shakes his head no. "I don't believe you were lying at all. I don't think you were referring to star charts but instead something else. 'A book of stars,' a book about constellations perhaps? No. Why go to such trouble to steal something anypony could have simply checked out of a library?"
Edward laughs. "I don't know if you've noticed but we changelings aren't exactly able to check books out of libraries."
The interrogator eyes Edward, skeptically. "I assumed you would shapeshift to look like a regular pony."
Edward shrugs. "Just any 'regular' pony? You said yourself we can't just make one up. Who would I change into?"
Now it's the interrogator's turn to laugh. "Oh, that's very good. However, we're talking about this 'book of stars,' not meaningless questions with useless answers."
Edward tilts his head. "Here I thought that all you dealt with was meaningless questions with useless answers. You're going to have to get rid of these contradictions if take your filly to work day will end with any success."
The interrogator's smile disappears to be replaced with a frown and an icy coldness enters the room. "Tell me what the book of stars is," he asks.
Edward smiles. "I'll give you a hint: it's worth far more than I am."
The interrogator laughs. "The hay fries I buy down the street are worth far more than you are."
Edward smiles. "Then you'd better start looking."
The interrogator sighs. "Needler, let's begin again."
Edward's eyes dart to Needler as she trots toward him,
And they begin again.
(*)
The interrogator slams his hooves down on the table. "I've looked everywhere; 'Skywatcher's history of the stars,' 'The parable of Nightmare Moon,' 'Binder's lexicon of star magic,' 'Spyglass Zoom's expanded lexicon of star magic,' star charts, star history's, a fashion book on star designs, and they're all still there. They're all exactly where they're supposed to be. I'm beginning to think your 'book of stars' is no more than a book of scapegoats."
Edward shrugs. "If you're so sure I was lying then why are you still looking?"
The interrogator brushes a bit of mane that fell over his eyes away. "Because I know you weren't lying. The changeling's found and retrieved this 'book of stars' during an attack on Canterlot. I know it exists; I just don't know where."
Edward shrugs. "Technically you don't know where, what, or when for this book you suppose exists."
The interrogator sighs. "I suppose not."
An uncomfortable silence follows.
Edward closes his eyes and links with Needler. What's the status on Jill?
Needler stands up slightly straighter, trying not to be noticed. Last I heard, she was still trying to get in.
Edward clenches his teeth. Useless Striker, what's her plan if Awakening happens early?
Needler shrugs. There's not much chance of that.
I thought they trained her to be able to get in places like this. Edwards twists in his bindings.
It's a bit more complicated than that; this place is sealed up like a drum and they're expecting changelings Striker's job is exactly as important as yours is, don't demean her. Needler snaps.
Each for us, changelings all. Edward repeats.
Exactly.
"What do you know about alicorn ascension, Edward?" The interrogator asks.
Edward opens his eyes. "Two eggs, a cup of sugar, a-"
The interrogator cuts him off. "Very amusing but I wasn't talking about that. I was talking about alicorn ascension. What do you know about it?"
Edward leans over and gasps as a wound opens, seeping blood. "I know everything about anything you don't want, and nothing about everything you do."
The interrogator stands up, trots over to Edward, leans over, and smiles. "Leave the needles in this time, Needler."
(*)
Where's Jill? Edward almost screams through the link.
Needler ignores the question. How do you feel?
Edward clenches his teeth. Through my nerves, where's Jill?
Needler hesitates. I don't know. I've lost contact with her. I thought you could try to link with her, see where she is.
Edward bites his tongue. Why do you think I asked where she was? I can't feel her anywhere.
I've worked with Jill before, she's a bit young but she's good. I'm sure she'll be fine. How do you feel? Needler persists.
It only hurts always. If I can't link with her then she's not here. Where did she go if not Tartarus?
I don't know.
"What's the matter, Edward? Not feeling too well?" The interrogator's voice breaks Edward's concentration.
Edward opens his eyes and glares at him.
"I didn't think so. Tell me about alicorn ascension." The interrogator states.
Edward starts to move but winces back to where he was. "You seem quite keen to find it. Lost hope of finding the book of stars?"
The interrogator's eyes light up. "Actually, that's exactly what I'm doing. How do you think the Canterlot Archives and royal library are structured? Stupid question, I'm sure you already know. Suffice to say it was much to my surprise to find that there actually were some books missing, but not taken by changelings." The interrogator stands up and starts furiously pacing. "One of the books I was looking through for a clue mentioned another book, one about an artifact known as the Alicorn Amulet. I checked the files and it said that several years ago it was collected and placed in the libraries, but it wasn't there." His pacing gets faster. "I finally thought I had found a lead to this book you would risk your species to get but I was summoned by the Princesses. According to them, the book wasn't missing at all but instead was in their private possession as was any book referencing alicorn ascension, or actually alicorns in general. So I'll ask again: what do you know about alicorn ascension?"
Edward grins, wincing again as he does so. "When a mommy alicorn and a daddy alicorn love each other very much,-"
The interrogator cuts in again. "Another lie, you must know quite a lot, don't you?"
Edward shrugs, moving just as little as possible. "We changelings deal in ponies, wouldn't you like to know all you can about what you're dealing with?"
The interrogator smiles. "Why do you think I'm here?"
Edward remains silent.
He continues. "I'll ask again: what do you know about alicorn ascension?"
Edward's grin grows wider. "More than you'll ever know."
The interrogator turns toward Needler. "Why don't you get some magnets?"
The interrogator taps a hoof on the table, narrowly missing a trickle of blood falling off of it. "Well, I do believe I've found somepony with less accessible information than changelings, I'm surprised once again."
Edward stares listlessly at the interrogator.
"The changelings at least had some references, a few myths about their origin, bedtime stories, but this," The interrogator gestures at the scattered papers in front of him, the edge of one soaking up the blood coming from Edward. "This is something else. Somepony supposedly this important to magic history and he gets one mention and one description, and that's it? A mention as the father of a branch of magic as a footnote in a book about branches of magic and a description in a fashion book of the period? It's like he's mocking me."
Edward shifts, slightly. "Don't underestimate fashion." He forces out the words between breaths then chokes out a wheezy laugh.
The interrogator looks at him with disdain. "This is getting us nowhere. If I truly want to find this pony I'll need a source. I need to find a pony who knows more about him than a factoid about magic and what he supposedly wore." The interrogator waves a hoof at the glass and the two guards trot in to take Edward back to his cell. "I need to find somepony who knows something about this, 'Starswirl the Bearded'."
The guards take Edward away and throw him, still bleeding, into his cell.
(*)
The interrogator chuckles softly as he looks through the papers in front of him.
Edward stares at him, gloomily. "Doesn't it strike you as odd your Princesses lock away information relevant to alicorn ascension?"
The interrogator stops chuckling and looks up. "What do you know about it?" He asks.
Edward smiles. "Only what I've been told."
The interrogator glances at Needler. "What have you been told?"
Edward rocks back and forth in his chair, swaying to some invisible music.
"Jealous jealous Loony lady Pretty Princess cry. Bigger sister Sunny shady Had a little lie. He's dead She said The girl was crushed Her face was very gray. I saw myself her face was flushed That sunny Summer's day. When she saw her mistake The Princess did take All the books away."
Edward laughs, finishing.
The interrogator frowns at the song and his brows furrow. "Princess Luna and Princess Celestia," he says.
Edward looks surprised then laughs again. "Right you are. It's the first line of a ballad about Nightmare Moon. Different than the ones you ponies have but that's not really any surprise."
The interrogator taps the table again, in thought. "You seem quite fond of these songs, you've said a number of them since you've been in here. Tell me, what's the next verse?"
Edward stops laughing and starts shaking his head in mock thought. "Now let's see, I can't quite remember."
The interrogator shrugs. "We can always go back to talking about the book of stars."
Edward rolls his eyes. "If you're going to be like that about it."
The interrogator sighs. "Just do it."
Edward grins and starts swaying again, eyes closed.
"The Princesses sat down for tea And watched the fillies play. The Sun took Loony's memory And locked it safe away. But the memory did kick and scream At being treated so And the loony mare who dealt in dream Had nothing she did know. A creature of hate was born anew from the captured memory And the numbers dwindled few Of ponies who did see. But changeling eyes did behold the wily Princess' act And they wrote down her parting words perfectly and exact. 'I know you're upset my Loony dear But you should not fright or fret. While he is gone you should not fear Of danger or of threat. You cannot convince me else I shall defend Till you return I will insist no alicorn shall ascend.' With a final parting spell she shot her to the moon To meet again in one thousand years And not one moment too soon."
The interrogator rubs his temples, feverishly. "Who wrote this ballad?" he asks.
Edward shrugs. "One of the changelings of old I suspect. It's something like a nursery rhyme or bedtime story passed down through changeling generations."
The interrogator nods. "Do you thinks it's accurate?" he asks.
Edward smiles. "History is written by the victors. The truth is written by the spies."
The interrogator nods again. "According to the ballad, Celestia lied about somepony being dead; do you know who that's supposed to be?"
Edward leans closer. "If you find that out then you might understand why Sunny hid the books away."
The interrogator grinds his teeth together. "Who knows something about Starswirl the Bearded?"
Edward looks to both sides and leans over, conspiratorially. Needler shifts, looking slightly nervous. "I might go asking about some of the smaller towns near Canterlot. I heard somepony from there dressed as Starswirl the Bearded a few Nightmare Nights ago."
The interrogator nods at the glass and the guards take Edward back to his cell.
(*)
You've gotten docile. Have you suddenly decided to be cooperative? Needler's voice comes through.
Edward wakes up. I'm sending him on a wild goose chase. He won't find anything even if he gets to Ponyville.
Needler furrows her brows, the action communicated through the link. We need him to stop finding things out.
We need time. Contrary to popular belief, Awakening can happen when we're not there. I don't know about you but I don't want to be the first swarm to miss an Awakening. Edward shakes off her concern.
Her voice comes again, quieter this time. And Jill?
Edward shrugs. I don't make it a point to understand Strikers. If she's somehow not dead then I have no idea where she is. Lie low. I don't want anything happening when we're this close.
Each for us,
Changelings all.
Goodnight, Edward.
Goodnight.
(*)
Edward sits in the interrogation chair, quietly scratching away at its surface. He looks around the room and his eyes fall on the interrogator's empty chair. He turns toward Needler. "You know, it's impolite for the interrogator to stand up the prisoner."
Needler blinks. "I wouldn't know," she says.
A silence ensues.
"I could've waited in my cell, you know." Needler nods. Another silence. Edward turns to the glass. "So, why am I here when he's not?"
No response.
"Hello?" Edward hears a shift occur behind the glass and some hurried hoofsteps coming closer. The door opens to reveal the interrogator. "You're late."
The interrogator trots up to the table, breathing heavily. "Y-"
Edward interrupts him. "By a lot."
The interrogator glares at Edward. Wordlessly, he reaches into his saddlebags and pulls out a book, faded and leather bound with stars printed on the cover with some kind of sinuous thread. He sets it on the table and slides it toward Edward until it comes at rest in front of him. Edward looks up and smiles. "How about that?" He says.
The interrogator sits down and there's another silence. "How about that, indeed."
The journal lies open in front of Edward, the words of an ancient spell looking up at him.
"'From one to another, another to one. A mark of one's destiny singled out alone, fulfilled,'" the interrogator says.
Edward's ear's perk up. He links with Needler. Jill is back.
Needler's eyebrows shoot up. Where was she?
Not here. Not Tartarus. You'd have to ask her for anything else.
Do we move?
Not yet. Soon.
Understood, Edward.
"I received this journal from Princess Twilight Sparkle. According to her, she achieved alicorn ascension by finishing the spell on the page in front of you." The interrogator sits down. "The spells in the journal are unlabeled and despite the efforts of the best unicorns around we still haven't cracked what they're supposed to do. Naturally, we can't cast any spells we don't know the effects of. The pages seemingly about something other than spells are no different in their application. Every piece of information, spell, or clue in that journal is framed to be unusable. It's horribly inconvenient. There are some scholars working to decode a passage now but I know they won't find anything. Do you know why this is?"
Edward smiles. "I guess Starswirl is just smarter."
The interrogator nods. "Smarter, yes. More paranoid, possibly. But there's something wrong with this book; something that leads me to believe it's not Starswirl who wrote it at all."
Edward looks down at the spell again. "What's that?" he asks.
"Princess Twilight Sparkle ascended to become an alicorn by finishing the spell on that page - something about understanding friendship more than Starswirl. But if that's true," the interrogator trots over to the book and picks it up to hold in front of Edward, "why is it unfinished here?" The interrogator points a hoof down at the spell.
Edward locks eyes with the interrogator. "Miss Sparkle must have written it in invisible ink."
The interrogator slams the book shut. "I find that unlikely." He sits. "It's a fake."
Edward feels Jill move through the halls of the building. "Aren't all popular books, nowadays?"
The interrogator's frown deepens. "Somehow, you changelings snuck into Princess Sparkle's library and stole the real journal, then replaced it with a nonsense forgery. You probably figured nopony would figure it out and Princess Sparkle was too excited being an alicorn to notice discrepancies between the journal she saw and the one you replaced. It's sloppy, though. If you copied the spell on the final page right from the real journal then why not copy Princess Sparkle's addition? It seems like such a minor thing. Unless you weren't copying it from the journal but instead something else. Do you have any nursery rhymes for that, Edward?"
Edward shakes his head. "Starswirl's spells didn't fit too easily to a tune. He doesn't even make them rhyme."
The interrogator leans back in his chair. "Why is this spell spoken, instead of just having the designs written down for the unicorn to perform? In the Starswirl wing of the Canterlot Library, they're almost exclusively diagrams. This may be the first spell I've seen that actually needed to be spoken aloud."
Edward laughs. "Starswirl The Bearded was a master of magical theory, not spellcasting itself. The spell on the page is unfinished so he only had part of the diagrams imagined and he bound his magic to the words on the page, just as Miss Sparkle did hers. Finally, the technical term for a spoken spell is an incantation. I would brush up on your magical knowledge before you ask yet another stupid question."
The interrogator's eyebrows rise. "You seem quite the fountain of knowledge. Is that what you study over in your changeling nests?"
Edward glares at the interrogator. "Hives. How's your hut life?"
The interrogator laughs. "Touché. But you didn't answer my question."
Edward shrugs. "Question? I thought we were just mocking each other's cultures."
The interrogator rubs his eyes. "You would. However, what do you study in your changeling 'hives'?"
Edward grins. "We have a liberal arts curriculum."
The interrogator sighs. "If you force me to guess, I would say education is separated through your different kinds. The green eyed ones like yourself learn about magic, strategy, and perhaps some information on specific ponies. The blue eyed ones learn about pony culture, history, and how to follow the green eyes' orders. Is that right?"
Edward shakes his head, no. "Follow orders? You think Linkers give orders and Collectors follow them? Just like you? You ponies have such complicated castes, Celestia gives orders to all the ponies beneath her, Luna beneath her, the captain of the guard beneath him, the nobility beneath them, mayors, beneath them, public servants beneath them, doctors beneath them, parents beneath them, the colts and fillies have free reign to order any other foal with presumed slights. You even think you can order me. You feel that you can order me because everypony in your society orders somepony else. If changelings ran on this pathetic system then it would collapse in seconds. No. Collectors don't 'follow orders' from Linkers. We follow our queen until such a time as we die or we get a new queen."
The interrogator raises his eyebrows. "How would you get a new queen?"
Edward smiles. "Wouldn't you like to know."
The interrogator rubs his eyes. "As a matter of fact, I would. So far, the only information I have on queens is conjecture and that nursery rhyme you told me. Something about 'steps in a changeling queen'. Judging from what happened at the Canterlot wedding, I would guess changeling queens have the abilities of your Collectors and Linkers. That would explain how she got Shining Armor's love and used it to make herself stronger without any other changelings in the vicinity. However, it doesn't explain how changelings replace queens or how they're born in general. Do queens beget queens?"
Edward laughs. "Probably not in the way you're thinking, but not too far off mark."
The interrogator tilts his head. "Does that mean changeling queens are created in a way other than being born like a normal changeling? Is there a process similar to alicorn ascension to become a queen?"
Edward grins wider. "Very similar if Celestia's stunt with Twilight Sparkle is any indication. Making a queen, however, is a bit more structured with heavier collateral damage. Have you ever heard the expression 'good chess players move three plans at once every time they touch a piece'?"
The interrogator stands up and stretches his legs. "No, I can't say I have."
Edward cracks his neck. "A good chess player thinks in the long-term, short-term, and an alternate strategy. With every piece he moves, he advances these three goals. Move a knight, take a pawn, attack a city..."
The interrogator raises an eyebrow. "Are you saying that when you attacked Canterlot and stole Starswirl's journal, you also ascended a queen, somehow?"
Edward chuckles. "Attack Canterlot in the short term, steal the journal in the long term, ascend a queen-..."
The interrogator interrupts him. "As an alternate strategy. Where is the queen, now? Was she launched away in the shield? How did you get the queen through the shield in the first place?"
Edward clicks his tongue. "So many questions, yet you haven't even asked why we'd need a new queen if Chrysalis did exactly as she was supposed to."
The interrogator shakes his head. "You wouldn't tell me if I did ask."
Edward shrugs. "Maybe. Can you take that chance?"
The interrogator sighs. "Why would you need a new queen?"
Edward grins. "Do you know anything about bee swarms?"
The interrogator frowns, grimly. "No."
Edward's grin widens. "When a bee hive gets too big, the current queen births another. The hive then splits with one of the queens leaving to form a new hive. The worker bees go ahead and create the new hive, the queen follows and moves in. Thus, a new hive is born."
The interrogator stands up, his chair clattering to the floor. "You mean to build a new hive, within Canterlot."
Edward's eyes light up. "Precisely, Puzzle Solver. Your daughter would have been very proud."
The interrogator's face contorts in rage. "You bastard." He leaps over the table, knocking Edward to the floor and slams his hoof down again and again on Edward's face.
The door opens and the two guards come in and restrain the interrogator.
Edward laughs. "Oh, and one more thing, Puzzle. I didn't kill your daughter, but I know who did. Say hi to the Princesses for me."
The interrogator makes another lunge at Edward, but the guards hold him back and drag him out of the room. Needler follows, casting a puzzled glance at Edward before departing.
Edward lies on the floor, laughing to himself and counting down the hours to Awakening, until the guards take him back to his cell.
Puzzle Solver throws Edward against the wall and bites down hard on his ear. A crack resounds throughout the room as his teeth break through the bit of exoskeleton over it. "Let's try this again: why would you steal the journal from Canterlot during the invasion and then again from Princess Twilight? Did Princess Celestia somehow retrieve the journal?"
Edward grunts and sniffs some blood leaking from his nose. "Princess Celestia couldn't retrieve her own sister's good temper, though that's not really surprising considering what happened."
Puzzle Solver slams Edward's chair to the floor. "Stop playing games with me."
Edward's head slams on the tile floor and he coughs out a laugh. "That must've been what all the colts at school said, I'm sure you were a very boring one."
Puzzle drives his hoof into Edward's chest. "Why did you steal the journal twice."
Edward winces. "You think somepony who collected as much information as Starswirl the Bearded only wrote one journal? Little fillies can fill more than one journal with all the inanities of their life and you think Starswirl had less to write?"
Puzzle Solver removes his hoof from Edward's chest and takes a step back. "So, there's more than one journal, at least two, possibly more. Where will your new Queen ascend?"
Edward grins, revealing bloody teeth, some missing. "Wouldn't everything work faster if I told you who was going to ascend?"
Puzzle faces Edward. "Would I know them? I must say, I know few changelings and the fewer the better. All the same, who?"
Edward laughs. "I would say, 'I'd tell you but I'd have to kill you,' but we're planning on killing you anyway, aren't we?"
Puzzle Solver yanks Edward's chair upright again, then slaps his hoof across Edward's face. "Who?"
Edward moves his jaw until it snaps back into place. "Another question might be why we even need the journals, what they contain, or how we knew about them."
Puzzle Solver turns to Needler. "Tell me who you're ascending, first. Or I'll let Needler do her work."
Edward grins. "It's always so funny when you think you're in control. Who pulls a changeling's strings?"
Puzzle Solver sighs and grits his teeth. "Fine. Why would changelings suddenly need two journals to ascend a queen. Surely you're nursery rhyme is enough."
Edward laughs. "Actually, for any normal ascension, it would be. However, we had something very special planned, this time around. You can't take over Canterlot with just any normal queen, isn't that right? Besides which, the information we needed was only in the second journal, we stole the first from your Princess Twilight mostly for kicks."
Puzzle Solver paces the length of the room. "Why did Starswirl The Bearded write all of this? How did he know so much about changelings?"
Edward shrugs. "Technically, he didn't know that much about changelings at all. He befriended a hive of them sometime in the middle of his first journal. He believed that if he knew as much as he could about magic, he could finally understand the world; he was obsessed with it, really. But who could blame him? Some ponies just don't know when to stop digging."
Puzzle Solver turns. "No. That can't be it. He can't be searching for the mysteries of Equestria just for no reason. There must be something he was looking for. Where are the journals, now?"
Edward grins. "Exactly where they should be: right beside our future Queen."
Puzzle Solver trots to the door and opens it, whispering something to a pony inside. Edward strains but can't hear the exchange. Puzzle Solver reenters the room and closes the door behind him.
He turns. "Who do you plan to turn into your changeling Queen?"
Edward smiles. "I think you already know."
Puzzle frowns. "Humor me."
Edward shrugs. "In order to make a changeling queen using the method Starswirl wrote, we need a different component. Specifically, it will not work to turn just any changeling; we need a pony."
Puzzle Solver takes a step back, startled, and leans against the table. "You mean to force a pony to become a changeling? How could that possibly work? Any pony you turn would fight against you, not with you."
Edward's eyes light up. "Actually, it turns out Starswirl thought of that as well. The process involves dredging qualities in a pony to the foreground, qualities that would make them more likely to join us. Anger at equinity, hunger, jealousy, they all work wonders at changing a pony's alliance and this process heightens all of these emotions."
Puzzle Solver laughs. "Or at least, that's what it's supposed to do. You said yourself, Starswirl was no great spellcaster."
Edward's eyes narrow. "But he was a great magical theorist. Despite his no great talent casting spells, he made some of the best ones there are."
A pegasus pony with a brown coat and yellow mane trot in, carrying a piece of paper in her wing. She lays the paper down on the table and Puzzle Solver thanks her before she leaves again.
"What's that?" Edward says, nodding to the paper.
Puzzle Solver lays it flat on his desk. "Actually, it's a little project I've been working on. A fascination of Starswirl's if I'm not mistaken. I wouldn't worry about it too much. If all goes well, I won't have to use it."
Edward strains, trying to see what's written on the paper but to no avail. Puzzle Solver dwells on the page for another moment before turning his attention again to Edward. "How many journals are there?"
Edward shrugs. "The two we have aren't labelled. There could be any number of them, and we may have more than two to begin with."
Puzzle Solver rolls his eyes. "What was Starswirl's relationship to the Princesses? You seem to make references to their affairs, yet the only time I've heard Starswirl even spuriously connected to the Princesses is in the Hearthswarming eve play with his apprentice, Clover the Clever. Even then, it seemed a time before the Princesses. How could he possibly have known them?"
Edward laughs. "Your information is predicated on the belief that whoever wrote the play knows what happened. Though it's commonly touted as a true story, it could very easily be false and the playwrite just chose a name and the name of a lesser know unicorn to be her supposed mentor. From what I can tell of you, Puzzle Solver. You don't usually take much stock in lies."
"And yet, I'm talking to you." Puzzle Solver smirks. "Tell me where the journals are."
Edward shakes his head. "No."
Puzzle Solver cracks his hoof down on the base of Edward's horn. Edward grunts and a few sparks fly out of his horn. "If you refuse to tell me that, perhaps you can amuse yourself by telling me who killed my daughter."
Puzzle grits his teeth together as he says this. Edward just smiles. "You won't be familiar with her name, but you may be familiar with her work. Already, she has infiltrated several positions of power, done an assassination and left without a trace. I believe the Canterlot Times is calling her The Hoofington Howler from where her stories originated. However, those are her activities of the present, even the greatest assassins have to start somewhere."
Puzzle Solver snarls. "Are you suggesting my daughter's death was-"
Edward interrupts. "Little more than a practice round. A precursor to more important things."
Puzzle shouts and slams his head into Edward's, creating a ringing sound in the room. Edward chuckles. "You may know her, however, by another name: Daisy. It is my understanding you hired this diamond dog to keep me up at night, scratching on the bars. Daisy was highly trustworthy. She went to the Guard Academy and worked as an officer for several years. She is the same changeling who killed your daughter."
Puzzle Solver moves away from the paper on the table and presses his forehead against Edward's, placing his two hoofs on his shoulders and standing up on his back ones. "How do you know this?" he whispers.
Edward's grin grows wider. "I know because yesterday she told me, herself. She told me everything about you, Puzzle Solver. Including your previous occupation as a doctor and your loving daughter, Silver Pine. She told me about how she killed your daughter and took her place and it wasn't until she was sixteen with still no Cutie Mark that you even managed to notice. She even told me how terrible practice it was, because surely any pony she'd need to assassinate wouldn't be so thick." A tear slides down Puzzle Solver's cheek and his grip loosens. Edward continues. "She also told me she's in the building, right now. Making her way to you and you'd better move fast because she's already here."
The door creaks open and Puzzle Solver whips around. His eyes are greeted by a frowning changeling with red eyes, bent into a charging position, her horn lowered. Puzzle Solver makes a lunge for for the piece of paper on the table but is hit in the side by a bolt of green magic.
A trickle of blood flows from his mouth and a tear escapes his lifeless eyes.
Bridget lowers her Needler disguise and unbinds Edward, taking care with the magic lock in place. Edward stands and embraces Bridget, her blue eyes shining with delight. Jill checks Puzzle Solver's body, then peers at the paper on the table. "A teleport rune. He must have a unicorn powering it from the other side, one touch of this and he'd make his escape." She nudges his body with a hoof. "Too bad."
Edward turns to Jill. "Where is Princess Luna?"
Jill raises her guard disguise. "Everything is prepared. Princess Luna will be Awakening upon our arrival."
Edward nods. Bridget raises her guard disguise. "Let's not keep them waiting."
The two 'guards' escort Edward to his cell. Then past it into the throne room.
