//------------------------------// // Caged Bird // Story: PaP: Bedtime Stories // by Starscribe //------------------------------// Chip stared at a blank stone wall, pulling the cloth of her single blanket close about herself. She had stared at this wall for a long time—long enough that her reserves of glamour were starting to dwindle and she felt hunger clawing at her empty stomach. Her captors brought a tray of mashed grain each morning along with a small wooden cup of water, and that was all. Some days she drank the water, but she never touched the grain. Eating it was completely pointless. The guards who brought it felt no pity for her, not even the faintest drop for her to really eat. They didn’t even seem to see her, most of the time. Just stopped in, collected or dropped the tray, then moved on. Maybe she spent weeks sitting on the cement cot, staring away the wall. Maybe months. She didn’t know exactly, and didn’t much care. In her first day poor Poppy would be doomed, the refugee she’d never even known was really from the past. I had him wrong. Chives destroyed his life, but he started out just wanting to help. He was willing to risk prison to give a refugee a new home. Poppy had been the only pony in the world who shared love with her freely, the only one who didn’t care she was a changeling and enjoyed spending time with her for its own sake. With her gone, with her drones beaten and killed and enslaved to some new workmaster, what could Chip do? What reason did she have to go on living? If only Riley could see her now. The last of her glamor had been burned to give her this life, and for what? Chip considered burning all that was left of her magic trying to escape. Trying a teleport maybe, something she could’ve done without much effort as a male. She was still too young, too immature for such advanced magic. She might die in the attempt. Would certainly starve if it failed. In the end, only ambivalence saved her. She just didn’t care enough to try to escape anymore. Didn’t care enough to do much of anything. Someone came walking down the hall, the guard to collect her evening meal. The meal she hadn’t eaten. Chip looked up, made herself seem as pathetic as possible, hoping for the barest scrap of sympathy from the guard. A little more magic, and maybe… Her eyes widened as she saw the pony making her way down the hall, and she very nearly fell out of her bunk. The guard still wore the rusty armor that the others did, still wore a crossbow on her back. But she didn’t have a coat, instead a hard carapace that sparkled in the single dwindling candle. Her eyes were bright red, and she had a red spotted shell on her back that didn’t quite cover her wings. Chip recognized her instantly. “Ezri?” she looked up, whimpering. “Is that you?” The “guard” stopped right in front of her, levitating the empty food tray across the room and up to her face, sniffing at it. Her face wrinkled, and with a flash of green magic the food vanished, filling the air with a thick, putrid-smelling stench. “You know, even now that I can eat like ponies do, I don’t think you could pay me enough to taste whatever they’re serving you.” “You’re here to rescue me?” Chip asked, rising to shaky hooves and making her way to the gate. “I see you’ve got the keys on your belt there…” Ezri sighed, levitating something out of a pouch around her belt. Most ponies in this society kept coins in a pouch like that. Instead, Ezri lifted out a pinkie-sized green bottle, its contents lighting up the room like a glowstick. “Take this, little sister. It’s all I have.” Chip didn’t have the magic left for levitation, so she caught the bottle in her teeth. She spat out the cork, leaned back a little, and let a few precious drops of Glamour dribble back into her throat. It was enough to sustain a drone for weeks. For a queen, well… maybe two days. “I get the sister part,” Chip replied, her voice significantly more awake than it had been moments before. She felt invigorated again, revitalized. For at least a moment, all the terrible things she’d seen no longer dominated her thoughts. “But I’m not little. I’m three centuries older than you are.” “Not anymore!” Ezri grinned, looking smug. “You were in the ice-chest for longer than that, Chip. That means you’re my little sister now. You were supposed to be on ice for longer… until we got the world’s shit together…” “How did this happen?” Chip asked, a faint twinge of anger finding its way into his tone. “M-mom… I mean, Riley said—“ “We tried,” Ezri sat on her haunches just outside the metal bars. “Ponies weren’t supposed to find any of you. But Jackie and I, we’ve… we left Alexandria a long time ago. We couldn’t sit around to guard some empty ruins. There are other wars to fight.” “Whatever,” Chip gestured at the fence. “Let’s get out of here. Before the shift turns over and you get caught.” Ezri hesitated, then shook her head. “Sorry Chip. You’re almost done in here, but not quite yet.” “What?” She stared, shocked and a little pained. “Y-you’re not here to rescue me?” Ezri shook her head. “Just to keep you going. I wasn’t sure how much longer a queen could last, and the kid upstairs is taking his sweet time.” “Uh…” “Look,” Ezri leaned towards the bars, meeting her eyes. “Being immortal taught me perspective. The most important part of that is patience. Riley knew that—she never gave in to the temptation of easy power by making more drones than she could feed. Other swarms are a constant power struggle, queens murdering each other… but Riley’s daughters always knew they’d never win that fight. Riley knew that patience can turn a disadvantage into an advantage. Less drones in the short term, but in the long term she had drones who knew her name. A price worth paying, we can both agree.” Chip nodded. Had it not been for Riley’s attitude, she herself would never have been kept around after her first death? What made one male different from another? Why bother spending the resources conducting experiments in drone identity that had led to Ezri? “What does that have to do with me?” Ezri pointed up with one hoof. “House Time oversees the king’s slaves, Chip. Lord Static has not ordained to see you, feeling you too insignificant to be worthy of his time. He’s not feeding you properly so you’ll die in his care and he won’t have to study you. No additional information, no need for Time to change the way it does things.” “But his son, Study, has already spent some time theorizing on your case, and Static has encouraged him. This allows Static to applaud Study’s involvement in the family’s affairs without a worry that he will discover anything. But Study is one of the cleverest Unicorns I’ve met. If he wasn’t pining over some love affair, he’d be down here already. Then you could…” Ezri made a vague gesture with a hoof, along with a knowing glance. “You still remember how to seduce a pony, right? You aren’t going to get weird about it because your natural form used to be male?” Chip blinked, opening her mouth and closing it again. Then she laughed. “You’re… you’re kidding. This is house Time’s mannor?” she looked up at the ceiling. “Guess I… guess we never had any reason to come down to the dungeons. Even the lab was a few floors up.” “Then you know exactly why it would be better for you to sit in jail a few more days,” Ezri said. “Not just because you could use him to escape, but because of what you can do after.” Ezri rose to her hooves, returning Chip’s grin. “I shouldn’t have underestimated a queen. I honestly hoped you’d stay frozen longer, Chip. Knowing my father is a queen now is a little confusing.” “I’d rather have stayed with Riley forever,” she whispered. “But queens aren’t immortal. Only you are.” Ezri turned to go, levitating the empty tray through the air behind her. “Hold on a few more days, Chip. Everything should be okay after that.” She walked away. The surge of confidence and re-invigoration faded a few hours later, leaving Chip alone and cold all over again. She returned to her moping, with the addition of a few fresh drops of hope. Ezri hadn’t helped her escape, but she had showed her an open door. A few days passed. Then, for the first time ever, she heard hooves coming down the hall that didn’t have heavy boots. A pony was coming who wasn’t wearing armor. A pony stopped in front of her cell. When he spoke, he sounded as dejected and empty as Chip herself felt. “So you’re it, huh? The magical talking field-beast?” Chip wanted to ignore the voice. She would’ve, except that she recognized it painfully well. It was something else she missed, something else that had felt like it would last forever and been ripped away from her. Well, Ezri, let’s see if I’m really a queen. She looked up and saw Study Time standing behind the metal bars. He wore his full black suit and uniform, though it still fit him badly. His hair was ruffled and he wore no dagger on his belt, as fashion required. He looked like a mess. “Yeah,” she answered. Her voice had a little of the strange echoing adult queens were known for. Either that, or it was just gravelly from disuse. It was hard to tell from just one word. “That’s me.” Study Time was swimming in a grey haze of apathy. Yet as she spoke, something broke through the top of the clouds. A few sparks of interest, focused on her. Nothing she could eat. “I wondered if my father was playing a colossal joke on me. All these years our family has supervised field-beasts, but we don’t have a single record of one ever talking. Look up when you do it—I want to see your lips when they move.” She obeyed, more out of apathy than anything else. She just didn’t care enough to fight. “That’s because you care for us badly. You give us nothing but meat all our lives and of course we end up stunted and crazy.” He smiled, apparently satisfied. “Well I’ll be damned. It is true.” If he had heard anything she’d said, he didn’t react. “My father says he has had you examined three times while you slept. Not even his most talented sorcerers can explain what spell enables you to speak as you do. Even mythology doesn’t have answers. A come to life spell…” “That’s an imperfect match and you know it,” Chip answered, following into their old routine without even realizing it. “Gesler’s Familianus is far closer to what I am. If you want to be completely wrong and pretend I’m an animal.” She was no longer slouching on her cot, but sitting up completely, brushing her regrown mane out of her eyes. It kept falling in front of one of them, and she kept batting it away. “Gesler, of course. Why didn’t I think of Gesler? An artificial familiar could share its conjurer’s mind.” She sensed no more fog from Study Time, as he spun up into the investigation of an academic mystery. A pain remained at the back of his mind, though. “It’s also wrong,” she said. “Your father’s sorcerers must be a shitshow if they didn’t think of just casting Celestia’s piercing gaze. Your investigation would be done in ten minutes.” Study Time laughed. “The mythological creature suggests we cast the old magic, sure. Might as well accompany one world-changing discovery with another. Rediscovering the soulcraft would be so easy…” he trailed off, eyes widening. “How does a fieldbeast know about that?” He didn’t wait for an answer before hurrying away, down the hall. Chip listened to his voice echoing back at her, more and more animated as the moments passed. He returned practically grinning. Not just that. He was genuinely curious now, curious about her. Chip felt the trickle of glamor down the back of her throat. So little she wouldn’t have noticed, except that it was for her true self. Even a weak emotion targeted at a Changeling’s proper nature could nourish in small ways. “Yeah, you were raised in our factory. Batch… 10A, judging by that brand. You’re not even four years old—terribly stunted for your age, but restarted aging would be consistent with a familiar bond.” Was he even listening to her? “You’re wasting your time. Celestia’s Gaze is entry level sorcerer-hunting material. I trained drones in how to cast it, and you’ve seen how stupid drones can be.” She trailed off, expression falling. “Wait… Study, did you say… your family runs the ‘factory’ that’s raising stolen changeling eggs? I thought you just supervised the workers!” “Yes, ever since my grandfather. The king bestowed…” he jerked back from her, eyes widening. “You know my name? You were smart enough to listen to the guards? What else did they say about me?” “Nothing,” she rose to her hooves, shaking off the blanket. She walked slowly towards the front of the cell, not fast enough that he might run away. Ponies could be quite fearful of changelings, and she didn’t want him to run away. This was the first ray of sunshine in what had otherwise been a very dark life. “Here’s another way to test the familiar theory, Study. Examine my sympathetic connections. I’ll stick some tail through the bars, you can take it with you back to your lab upstairs.” “Sympathetic connection would be… yes, that’s a sensible choice. I would’ve thought of that myself, with a little more time. The bond of a created familiar would be as strong as lovers, or parent to child. Even after confinement, it would be intact.” “Yes,” she nodded, already knowing what he would find. Chip had only one connection that powerful, and it was with the pony performing the test. Only Riley would’ve been a tighter bond, since she was both a parent and a mate. But sympathetic connections did not survive death. “Got a dagger or something to cut with?” “No, uh… I’ll be right back.” He hurried off again, returning a few seconds later with one of the guards rough daggers floating along beside him in his magic. “Go on then, beast. Stick it through the bars.” “That isn’t my name.” she spun around anyway, poking her tail through so he could cut away a rough chunk of green strands. He did so, with little regard for her comfort. “Beasts don’t have names,” he said, gesturing with the dagger as though to brush her words away. “Not even familiars have names. Only things with souls can have names.” He stuck the dagger into his belt beside his keys, though the clumsy commoner’s weapon hardly fit into the sheath made for something more elegant. “Do your sympathetic magic test! Search out my connections, and you’ll see!” Compared to what had probably been months alone in the dark, the next few hours practically flew by. Even a few drops of glamour in her stomach were enough to wake her up. The anticipation for what would happen when Study Time discovered the results of his test… those would be even more interesting. The guards came by to change the candles on her wall a few times, something they had often forgotten to do in the past. Ordinarily she didn’t mind, since a changeling’s senses were so keen. But just now, she welcomed the light. While Study Time spelled upstairs, Chip plotted. She would have to make the opportunity count. Four hours later, a pair of running hoofsteps sounded in the hall, and Study Time came to a gasping halt. His mane had become an unruly mess, he’d removed his jacket and most of his accessories. “W-what d-did…” “Catch your breath first,” Chip said, sitting on her haunches near the gate and looking right back at him. “I’m not going anywhere.” Study Time ignored the advice, though he did a little better the second time. “You’re a... how did you do it? What kind of spell did you cast on me? How did you… without me noticing?” She shook her head. “You must have searched for active spells. If I cast something on you without you noticing… well first of all, if I was that skilled, why wouldn’t I have used my magic to escape? But besides that, I know you didn’t find any active spells. You know as well as I do that false sympathy would be incredibly obvious.” Study’s expression darkened, the first sign of real anger from him. “I know you must’ve done something! Something to… to falsify a sympathetic connection. The best fake I’ve ever seen.” She shook her head. “There’s an alternative. One I don’t blame you for figuring out… but it also happens to be the right one.” “I don’t know you!” he shouted, sounding as much like he was trying to convince himself as if he really believed what he was saying. “I’ve never spoken to a field-beast before! I’ve never known one of you before.” Chip rose to her hooves, stalking towards the fence. “Would you… would you be willing to test my suggestion? It wouldn’t be hard, I promise. You wouldn’t have to do anything, except look away for a second.” “Why should I?” The anger in his voice was very real now, not masked even a little. “I don’t know what you’re planning, but…” “Just look away for a second,” she repeated. “You don’t have to stand close. Hell, you could walk away, but I think it will be less convincing if you do. Just a few seconds. Please.” “Father wants answers,” he said. “If indulging you doesn’t help get them… I might let him dissect you. That’s what he wants. No one beast is worth this much trouble.” But even as he said it, Study Time turned around, facing the back wall with its slowly melting candles. “Okay, beast. I’ll count to five.” While he counted, Chip drew on the last few drops of her glamour reserve. As she did so, she felt the claws of hunger rake at her stomach. Wanted to give up on the spell, break down crying with want and worry. Instead she forced herself to use up every drop of magic she had. She forced her body to change. She grew taller, thinner, more graceful. Her coat changed back to its previous color, her mane going bright red and into the familiar style. She became Inversion. She also became extremely disoriented and weak from the transformation. A changeling with no food at all was barely even a rational being. She couldn’t hear his words, just collapsed onto the ground, feeling the stone rush up to meet her. Her eyes blurred, the world turned fuzzy. Chip blacked out.