To Be Different

by Astrocity


8. We Can Work It Out

Happy is a changeling, one of thousands under the rule of Queen Chrysalis.

The plan for the invasion was simple. Changelings break through the shield. They do what they do. They feed off ponies’ love. They take over Equestria. It was as how Queen Chrysalis had described it.

Now with a small child suddenly added to the mix, things had taken a turn for the unprecedented.

Caring for a pony is nothing at all like caring for a changeling. Ponies have wants and needs that cannot be satisfied by changelings’ means of feeding. They cry when they want to eat. They cry when they've made a mess. And sometimes they cry for seemingly no reason at all.

What strange creatures they are. Despite the ability to change into them, changelings can only scratch the surface in understanding ponies.

In Canterlot all those years ago, Happy could have ignored the room with the foal. But all it took was a moment of curiosity to incite a monumental change in the hive. A small ember at first, it began to spread like wildfire.

He took his punishment and served the foal like royalty, following her small commands and playing with her when asked to. Of course, there was the matter of protecting her from any hungry changelings. It was arduous, certainly, but that was not the punishment he thought it was.

The real punishment had come in the form of a question that he had never been asked before. “What's your name?” the foal had asked.

He shrugged.

“Well, you have to have a name. Doesn't everyone? I have a name. Mommy has a name.”

He shook his head.

Not wanting to let the matter drop, she continued. “Can I call you, Happy? Because that's how you look when you smile.”

Another shake of his head. But she ignored him.

“Happy! Happy! Happy is Happy!” she shrieked, jumping and running around as if she had said the most clever thing.

It wasn't as clever as she thought it was. But it was certainly the nicest thing she had given him. And the thought that he was warming up to her was terrifying—terrifyingly new.

What a massive burden, being an individual of thought. Having to think of consequences for one's own actions and straying from the status quo. What good does it do for the hive’s survival? What does having a sense of person accomplish? A foreign concept as useless as this has no place among changelings.

But he hung onto it.

Masked behind a veil of indifference and following every order like any other. He lived each day with only his equine charge in mind. How absurd is it to see a pony among changelings? The Queen said it was for their survival, but there were always less and less changelings in the hive with each passing day. Once numbering to a thousand, the changelings were now dwindling to a few hundreds. If he were a little more brave, he would use his newfound individuality to ask her, “Are we surviving?”

But he kept that question to himself, letting it float around in his head.

Their secret was out now. Their existence is known. Suspicions are on the rise, leaving every pony a little more cynical, a little more distrusting. What else to do but hide and hang on to the little hope that hasn't been butchered to pieces? The others don't see, but he can see, that the future is dark and bleak and will remain that way unless something changes. All these thoughts, thinking he’s becoming his own person, he stuffed down into the far reaches of his mind so he can live without these new worries.

However, one day while looking after his charge, he found himself conflicted.

“Happy,” Nymph had said, while scratching the cave walls with a rock as if it was a piece of chalk. “Have you ever been outside?”

He hesitated answering her question with the usual nod or shake off his head. But she continued anyway without waiting for his answer.

“I want to go outside someday,” she said, not taking her eyes off her drawing. “I imagine something wonderful happens there.”

When he joined her gaze on the wall, he saw images of mountains and trees and a sun, all copied from the limited books she was allowed—books stolen from ponies.

“You'll come too, won't you, Happy?”

That smile, that look of anticipation of things she couldn't yet see, was unbearable, especially when surrounded by the spoiled hopes that have been gnawed to the bone. The lonely hunger craves for the companionship of another and the warmth of feeling wanted, and for a moment when she called him by his name, he caught a taste of those things.

A name, one that was given purposefully, is not something that can be easily dropped, made much harder by the princess it was given from. Being asked questions with no answers and talking to a pony of Canterlot origins could only lead to cataclysmic consequences that have yet to unfold. And, oh, how awfully regretful he was when he didn't stop her from going outside because he thought pity of her.

What a terrible punishment it is to be different, he thought.

~~~~~~~

Happy awoke to the dull throbbing in his head, like sledgehammers on his skull, and the sound of wheels on steel rails. A pervading numbness filled his senses.

“I see you're awake,” a voice said.

He turned his head and cracked an eye open to the pony in front of him.

Princess Twilight Sparkle sat, garbed in crown and other paraphernalia associated with royalty, making her the princess she actually was. It was a far cry from the sleepy librarian back at Ponyville. A set of steel bars stood between them. “Isn’t it amazing how much one can learn about changelings from a single invasion? Feels like all your senses fried, right? And all it took was a magical feedback to overload your disguise.”

His eyes widened as he scrambled to his hooves and made a charge for her, hissing with bared fangs and letting some spittle fly. The bars of his cage were too narrow, barely enough for his muzzle to fit through. His hooves stopped short of reaching past the bars.

She stood unflinching. Whatever emotion she may be feeling at the moment, he couldn't tell. Even standing inches away from her, there is a muteness between his senses and her emotions, a disquieting silence between changeling and pony. What had she done to him?

Twilight gave a hard stare. “You have questions you need to answer.”

He retracted his hooves and sat with tired breaths. But his eyes never left Twilight’s, matching her glare with his own.

“Why did you have a pony with you, and a filly at that?”

Happy sat silent.

Twilight slammed a hoof on the ground. “Talk!” she shouted. “I know you can. Back at the library, you told the filly to run away. She's not a changeling. I know that much when I tried to dispel her disguise. So why were you two in Ponyville?”

At last, a muffled emotion managed to seep out of her—anger. He turned away from the princess and laid his head on the steel floor of the cage in a show of apathy.

Her lips formed a thin line. “Fine… Be that way. You'll be talking soon anyway once we’ve stopped. Soon, there won't be anywhere to run.”

A tarp covered the cage, obscuring his view. The slow clop of her hooves grew distant until silenced by the door to the next train car. Once he was sure she had left, he let out sigh and got to work, bucking against the steel bars and rattling the cage. Like a desperate caged bird, he slammed into all sides. His thrashing soon slowed until all that was left was a bruised and defeated changeling.

A nearby rustling and the loud clatter of an overturned crate drew his attention.

“Get your butt out of my face!” a voice shouted.

Another joined. “How about you get your face out of my butt?”

The tarp obstructing Happy’s view was thrown to the floor, revealing a pair of familiar faces. Two childlike faces stared back at him in wonder, like spectators in a zoo.

“Whoa, it really is a changeling!” Pumpkin shouted, getting close to the bars.

Pound threw a hoof in front of by her. “Pumpkin, get back! What if it bites?”

She slapped his hoof away and approached dangerously close to the cage. “I don't know… It kinda looks sad in there.” She stood face to face with Happy. “Do you know what happened to our friends? They were in the library too. Nymph ran away last we saw her.”

In a burst of green embers, where Happy once stood was a familiar-looking pony, only much older to reflect his years of experience in his service to the queen. “It’s all my fault,” Happy said. “I got careless.”

“Happy?” Pumpkin asked, watching the grown stallion with wide eyes. There was a tired look on his face—the face she had thought belonged to a brother of a friend she had made. It was hard to imagine this was the same being that hovered protectively over the strange filly.

He barely acknowledged the other two ponies. “I was supposed to look after her.”

“So is Nymph a changeling too?” she asked.

He shook his head. “No. She never was. If only I had stopped her sooner, we wouldn't be in this mess!” He went to the opposite end of his cage and thumped his head against the bars. The steel rang on his skull. “And now I've lost her. Maybe for good…” he said in a quieter voice.

Hoofsteps approached his side of the cage, and he was surprised to see the pegasus sibling in front of him. “We heard Twilight’s friends are out looking for Nymph. We’ll find her. Right, Pumpkin?” Pound said.

She sauntered to his side. “Of course! Once we get this whole mess sorted, we’ll all be happy.”

Happy stifled the urge not to scoff at that idea. In what situation can a changeling and a pony find happiness together? “That's nice and kind of you kids, but if you haven't noticed, I'm trapped in a cage and we’re probably a long way from where she is.”

“Why don't you just break out? Changelings have magic, right?” she asked.

This time he didn't try to hide the roll of his eyes. “You ponies don't know a thing about changelings. The most I can do is change how I look, and even that won't get me out of this.”

Pumpkin tapped the side of the cage and hummed to herself. “Then we just gotta break you out,” she said.

“You’d trust me, a changeling?” Happy asked. “The only thing keeping me from harming you are the bars between us. Do you really want to take that chance?”

“He has a point,” Pound said. “Are you sure this is a good idea, Pumpkin?”

She crossed her hooves across her chest. “Well, not exactly good idea… But it’s an idea,” she said.

She found a pair of hooves on her shoulders and Pound giving her a serious look. “What if he attacks us? You heard the stories.”

“Yeah, and the headless pony was a story too,” she said, shoving his hooves away. “Look, I'm not saying that all changelings are good, but I'm not saying they're all bad either. All I'm saying—all I'm saying— is that just this once we might need to trust him to find Nymph.”

Pound opened his mouth to say something, but he couldn’t find the right words to convince her otherwise. A heavy sigh left his mouth. “Right… And how will you get him out? If you haven't noticed, these bars are pretty sturdy.” He rapped the steel bars with a hoof.

Then, he saw her—Pumpkin was smiling a smile that would no doubt lead to trouble. “Don't worry! We've got this all sorted out.”

“We do?” Pound asked.

Happy gave an incredulous look. “You do?” It had taken the child only a few seconds to come up with an escape plan. Would it even work?

“Yeah…” She turned to Pound with an uneasy look. “But you're not going to like it.”

~~~~~~~

The train whistled its arrival. The door to the train car opened, and Twilight walked in wide-eyed at the sight before her. Standing in the room of the train car were two familiar foals from Ponyville. One was in a cage. One was outside.

“Twilight! Help!” Pound shouted from his cage as Pumpkin tried to force the door open.

“How did you even... What are you two doing here?!”

The little unicorn ran up to her. “Pound followed you after you took the changeling away and got locked up by it when he tried to free it.”

“That's not what happened! It was all Pumpkin’s idea!” he shouted from his cage. “What did I tell you about trusting him?”

Twilight hurried across the room. “Hold on. I'll let you out, Pound.”

The lock to the door opened. Pound ran to Pumpkin’s side.

“You two have a lot of explaining to d—”

A set of hooves kicked into her side, sending her into the cage. Pound, who stood closest to her, bursted in green flames before turning into a black stallion. An overturned crate lifted itself, revealing the other Cake twin.

“Sorry, Twilight! Nymph needs our help!” Pound shouted as they made their way to the train door.

Dazed and confused, she stood up to look at them. “Hey, wait! Come back here!”

Whatever she had to say fell on deaf ears. The trio dashed into the streets of Canterlot, losing themselves in the bustling crowd of ponies.

“Do you think she's going to be mad at us, specifically? Pumpkin asked, dodging the leg of a passing stallion.

“Pumpkin! Mom and Dad are going to kill us when they hear about this!” Pound shouted. “Even worse, we just locked up a princess! We are going to be grounded on the moon!”

“I told you weren't going to like it,” she said, shaking her head. “But I'm sure it’ll all work out for us.”

“How long do you think before Twilight catches up to us?” Pound asked worriedly.

“Assuming she figures out that she can use magic to tear that cage apart,” Happy began, “I’d say a good few minutes.”

In the distance, ponies turned to watch a raging inferno coming from the train station. “We are so dead...” Pound said.

“I couldn’t care less about what happens to you two,” Happy said. “As long as I get away and find the girl, Princess Twilight can do whatever with you.”

The twins glared at him. “I kinda liked it better when you were quiet,” Pumpkin muttered. “But you’re not losing us that easily. We’re in this together until we find Nymph.”

As much as Happy wanted to ditch the two foals, there were more important matters to attend to, like the pony princess that was bound to catch up to them. “Alright, fine! Take a right around this corner! I know where we can lose her!” Happy shouted to the two.

They turned around a corner cafe and lost themselves in a crowded midday market. Bumping into mares and stallions and being the center of their ire, they ducked under produce stands and scurried past various items, breaking a merchandise or two in the process. Behind them, they can hear the Princess calling:

“Pound! Pumpkin!”

Running beside Happy, Pumpkin whispered, “She’s getting closer!”

“I’m thinking! I’m thinking!” he hissed back. His eyes darted in front of him until landing on a peculiar object.

“In there!” he shouted.

They dove into a rather large box by a cloth-covered stand selling decks of cards and other stage props. The box closed shut.

Princess Twilight came to a stop in front of it.

“Interested in something the Great and Powerful Trixie has to offer?” asked a mare wearing a magician’s robe and hat. She leaned over her stand while giving a smug look. “I see you’ve finally taken an interest in grand illusions. Since we’ve known each other for such a long time, I suppose I can give a discount. Though, perhaps you should start with a card trick, hmm?”

“Trixie…” Twilight greeted back, dropping her tone. “I’m not here to buy anything. I'm only here to—”

“You’re right. What was I thinking? We should start with something smaller.” Reaching over with a hoof, Trixie pulled a shiny gold coin from Twilight’s ear, which flicked in annoyance. “Pull enough of these and you can afford the next lesson.”

Twilight took a deep breath, exhaling slowly before talking with Trixie again. “I just need you to open that box over there,” she said calmly, pointing to the box.

Trixie strode over to the box. “Oh, this? Trixie has done one of her greatest illusions in this. Why, it all took place in Las Pegasus...”

A stomp of a hoof silenced Trixie as Twilight glared at her. “Open the box. Now.”

Dropping her smirk and adopting an scowl, Trixie opened the lid. Emptiness greeted them. “There, happy?”

Twilight leveled her gaze. “Open the false back.”

Trixie rolled her eyes and reached in to do so, revealing an empty hidden compartment. “Any other secrets you want to spoil?” she asked bitterly.

Twilight took a step closer, eying the hidden compartment before looking left and right of the box.

“Where… No, nevermind. That's all.” She turned around and began looking in another part of the market.

As Trixie watched her leave, she let out a snort. “Idiot,” she mumbled. She pulled up the table cloth of her stand. “You can come out now.”

A head peeked a glance outside before two foals and a stallion stepped out. “That was way too close,” Pound said.

“Thanks, Trixie,” Pumpkin said.

Trixie smiled. “No problem. Anything to ruffle her feathers. It helps to have a false back for your false back.” She pulled at the back of the box to reveal another door into the same hidden compartment. “Great for escaping tax collectors and ponies you don't want to meet.”

Her eyes then met Happy’s, and he didn't feel as hungry as before and felt a little less numb. “Of course, I’d have done it for you too, handsome,” she said, flicking her tail against his flank as she walked by.

Behind him, Happy could hear the sounds of gagging. He ignored the kids. “You’re too kind, but I really must be going and take these kids home,” he said, pushing the twins ahead of him, a little more forcefully than was needed.

“Catch my next show in Manehattan. I'll show you a few tricks of my own.” She winked, while he smiled politely. He made sure to savor the taste in these rare moments.

Now with Twilight no longer tailing them, they galloped away from the market and towards a park by the castle. There was a bridge that crossed over a stream. They hid under there while they caught their breath.

Panting and gasping for air, Pound and Pumpkin collapsed on the cool grass, while Happy snuck glances around the park.

There was a tap on his shoulder and a voice that was uncharacteristically quiet. “Happy?” Pumpkin asked.

He turned to look at her. “Yes?”

Her eyes were averted, paying more attention to her hooves that were busy crushing a blade of grass. “Why did Nymph run away?”

Happy was silent.

“We saw her back then. She looked scared, even when she looked at us.” She stopped her fidgeting and stared into his face. “What’s going on? What's the real reason you two are together?”

Happy hesitated. He had broken so many rules and done unprecedented things as a changeling. He couldn't even keep a foal safe. There wasn't much left to lose. He was deigned to become an outcast if he returned.

“She said something about being a princess,” Pumpkin added.

Pound trotted to Pumpkin’s side. “Princess? Nymph?” he asked.

Pumpkin nodded. “Yeah, that's what she said.” She turned to the changeling. “What did she mean? Is she really one?”

The changeling-turned-pony stared at the young filly before him. “Yes and no…” A heavy sigh left Happy’s mouth. “You wouldn't understand. You're just kids. Just go home back to your carefree lives and forget this ever happened.”

“How can we understand if you don't tell us anything?” Pound asked. He trotted closer, leveling his gaze with Happy’s. “We may be kids, but we do listen sometimes. We can't go home acting like everything's alright when clearly nothing is alright.”

Happy’s eyes went to Pound’s and then Pumpkin’s. None of their usual cheerfulness was there, just worried eyes for a pony they only met yesterday.

With no sign of the princess, he walked out of their hiding place and sat down. “It’s been so long, but I still remember it clearly after all this time,” he said. His gaze drifted upwards towards the towering spires of the castle. “Nothing’s really changed since then. It all began a long time ago, here in Canterlot…”

~~~~~~~

Sore. Tired. Wet. I woke to all these feelings as well as something smooth and scaly underneath me.

“Awake, dear?” a voice asked.

My throat felt dry. My voice came out raspy. “Where am I?”

“Sailing down upon the sunny, splendiferous stream we call Everfree,” he sang.

I opened my eyes and was met by a smiling purple serpent. “What… What am I doing here?” I was too tired to be scared.

He shrugged. “You tell me. One moment I'm enjoying my daily mustache grooming, and the next I find you swimming in the river.” He traced a purple lock of his mustache that seemed mismatched with the rest.

Sitting up, I gazed down the river we were going down and the forest at our sides from the back of the serpent. Memories came flooding back to me. The library. The princess. The wolves. All of this was too much for me. I couldn't stop the tears from flowing or the choked sounds coming from my mouth.

"Oh dear…” he said, looking oddly worried about me. “Now now, don't cry. I'm not scaring you, am I? It would be dreadful if that were the case.”

I shook my head, trying to wipe my tears and running nose. The realization that I was crying in front of someone didn't make me feel better.

“How about you tell me who you are?” he asked in a softer voice.

Stifling another sob, I wiped the tears from my eyes and quietly muttered my name. "Nymph..."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Nymph. But why are you crying?"

The thought of being apart from my friends and Happy got me hiccuping. Hiccups are the worst. I could only get out one word: "Lost."

"Anyone with eyes can see that,” he said. "Ponies always get lost in this forest. Why, I don't think they know where they're going half the time."

With one of his long appendages, he stroked my mane. His touch had a calming effect that stopped another wave of tears that threatened to spill out from me.

"There's something else upsetting you, isn't there?"

I gently tossed my head, sniffling.

"Would you like to talk about it? If you don't want to, then that'll be quite alright."

My hiccups began to dwindle once I've calmed down. "I lost one of the few friends I have, and I don't even know where to look for him.”

The serpent gasped. "My, that is a tragedy. But I'm sure you will find your friend."

"But how?"

He thought about it for a moment. "When you have no idea which way to go, sometimes the only thing you can do is pick a direction and keep walking."

"How is that going to help?" I asked him.

"Well, you might find someone to point you in the right direction. You found me after all."

I slowly nodded my head. "That’s true, I guess."

"You may not know it, but all paths eventually cross, paths that lead to here and there. And maybe unexpectedly, you will find your friend along the way."

He had a nostalgic look in his eyes. It told of his vast experience and the things he has seen and encountered.

"So where do I start looking?" I asked.

He stroked the magnificent violet strand of his mustache. "Perhaps the princesses might know."

"The princesses?" The memory of meeting Princess Twilight was still fresh in my mind.

"I'm sure the ones in Canterlot can help you with your problem."

It wasn’t a plan I looked forward to, but there wasn’t much I could do. I needed to convince them to help me. "But how do I get to Canterlot?"

"I can give you a ride and get you as close to Canterlot as I can."

“You’d do that for me?” I asked. "Thank you very much.”

"It’s no problem. No problem at all! You’ve been such a wonderful acquaintance."

"And you're a very generous serpent,” I said.

He chuckled. "It took another pony to show me how."

He picked me up in his claws, holding me carefully as if I was the most fragile thing in the world.

"Hold on tight," he said. And with that, we sailed down the river. His long body slithered across the water, almost as if he was sliding across the surface.

With only the sounds of running water and the serpent’s occasional humming, it was a peaceful journey down the river. I spent the time staring at my reflection in the water. This wasn’t my first time seeing my reflection, but it felt like I was looking at someone else. I saw a sad little pony starting back at me.

I must have been staring for quite a long time because then he asked me, “Something else on your mind?”

I didn't take my eyes off. “What are ponies like?” I asked. “What can you tell me about them?”

“Shouldn't you know?”

“I don't,” I replied. “Not really.”

He held his other claw to his chin. “They are scared, panicky creatures, though my experiences with them are limited.” Although it wasn't the answer I was hoping to hear, he added, “However, I once met a pony who helped me with my moustache problem.”

I eyed at the mismatched strand of hair on his face. “I think it's lovely.”

He chuckled. “Thank you. Your compliments are appreciated. But the point I'm trying to make is that you shouldn't judge a pony at first glance. You'll find there is something more to a person than you would have thought.”

I paused. “Say if I did find there was more to someone,” I said. “Something bad… Does that make them a bad person?

“Let me tell you something,” he began. “I am a monster, but that doesn't mean I have to act like one. I've seen ponies, both good and bad, try to cross the river, and sometimes good ponies have to do bad things because they think it’s right. So who knows? Monsters can be good. Ponies can be right.” With one of his claws, he gently tapped my chest. “You decide what's good. You decide what's right."

I held a hoof to my chest to where he touched. “I don't think you're a monster…” I said, to which he let out a roar of laughter.

We soon stopped in the middle of a larger body of water.

“We’re here!” he shouted, holding an arm out before us.

I looked around the forest. “Where is here?”

“Canterlot!” He pointed up towards a hole at the start of a trickling waterfall, and just beyond that, one could make out the edge of a castle wall.

I craned my neck upward and stared at it in awe. “How do I get all the way up there?”

I stood uneasily on his claw as he raised it higher until I was brought at the same level as the hole. Only now do I realizing that it wasn’t naturally made. It was perfectly round, unlike any tunnel I've ever been in.

“Just follow this storm drain until you see light coming from a circular lid,” he said.

I gave the tunnel a worried look. “Alone?” I asked him.

He nodded. “I'm afraid so. I’d come but I'm much too big and much too claustrophobic for that.”

I stared down the dark tunnel and took a deep breath. “Okay, here I go.” I stepped off his claw.

“Good luck, dear!” he shouted as I started my trek into the darkness. His words rang in the tunnel. “I hope you find your friend!”

A part of me hoped it wasn't too late to turn back.

The floor was damp. And the smell—oh, the smell— was a punch to my poor nose, like moldy food mixed with rainwater and who knows what. I really didn't want to know, especially since I was stepping in it, fumbling in the dark but still moving forward. Rumbling and unknown sounds echoed off the walls. Something squeaked and ran past my legs, and I couldn't help but give a startled shriek.

I crossed a small room with light coming from the corner of the ceiling and the wall. The stench made sense now. There were bits of trash in here, probably from outside—an old banana peel, a muddy ball, a wet pile of flyers and paper. I could hear the sounds of ponies talking and the sound of hoofbeats. It was bustling and bright out there while I was inside, taking glimpses of passersby. I moved on.

In the dim light, I saw a rung of ladders that lead up to a circular, metal lid. Little rays of light poked holes in the medal. I climbed up and ascended into freedom. Replace the walls with rock and dirt and it would be just like home.

The lid felt heavy, but it budged against my hoof. Cautious eyes peeked out. I quickly ducked as a thundering set of hooves ran atop of the lid. My body clutched onto the ladder for dear life.

Come on, be brave! I told myself.

Fighting against the scared part of me, I risked another glance outside. Throwing the lid to the side, I climbed up, only to hit my head underneath someone's cart. Crawling out, I took my first breath of fresh air since walking in that dark, smelly tunnel.

“Out of the way!” someone shouted.

I yelped, stepping aside as gruff stallion galloped by. I stepped back and bumped into someone.

“My goodness! A riff raff!” a mare yelled at me. She wore a flashy dress and sparkling diamonds all over. “Don't touch me with those filthy hooves!”

The stallion who accompanied the mare stomped a hoof. “Away, scoundrel! Shoo shoo!”

He didn't need to tell me as I was already running. While running, I overheard some of the things ponies were saying:

“Did you hear about Upper Crust?” a stallion walking with his wife asked.

“With who?” The mare gasped. “Sounds like something a changeling would do. You've seen how unfaithful she's been.”

There were more conversations like that:

“A changeling, you say? I knew it!”

“They say she might’ve been a changeling!”

“Good riddance to her.”

“Only a changeling can be with someone that handsome.”

“No really! A changeling really did steal my mail! I swear!”

And some more.

I scrambled past ponies’ hooves, earning a few more shouts after being nearly stepped on. I dove under the tablecloth of an outside table of a corner cafe. My mouth was dry, and I was still winded from all the running.

In my head, I kept saying the same thing to myself: You’re a pony. You're a pony. You're a pony. It was one thing to be a pony. To be surrounded by them was frightening. I tried being brave, but being brave is much harder than being scared.

“Hello, are you okay?”

Startled by the new voice, I let out the scream I've been holding in and held my hooves to shield my face.

“Oh no no, it's okay. Don't be scared. I won't hurt you,” she said softly.

When I stopped screaming, I peeked between my hooves and saw the worried look of a mare poking through the linen. She was pink. Her long horn came nearly close to scraping the underside of the table.

“Would you like to join me up there? At the table?”

I stared at her, then nodded shakily before leaving my hiding spot.

When I joined her at the table, she asked me, “Isn’t that better?”

I took the time to really look at this mare. Pink coat, hidden under a long white dress and a matching wide-brimmed hat that shaded her from the sun. It kind of looked like there was something under the back of her dress.

“Tea?” she asked, holding an ornate teapot in her magic.

I nodded.

She poured me a cup.

The cup trembled in my hooves. I sniffed it experimentally before taking a sip. I spat the scalding hot, bitter liquid out to the side.

She held two containers that matched the teapot’s design. “Cream and sugar? I like mine sweet too.”

I only nodded while she dropped a few spoonfuls of sugar and a bit of cream into my tea. With my tongue still sensitive from the hot drink, I made sure to blow before taking another cautious sip. This time it was better.

For a while, we were silent. The look on her face seemed to hold an endless amount of patience as she drank, as if waiting for me to speak. She would cast glances at other nearby ponies, usually at those who walked or sat together in pairs. An occasional hum would leave her lips as she studied passing ponies.

I hesitated my first sentence between us. “You're not going to yell at me?”

Finally, her eyes were on me. She held a hoof to her chest. “Why in Equestria would I yell at you?”

I shrugged. “I don't know. Other ponies have been yelling at me for no reason. Did I do something wrong?” I glanced to the street just as two stallions got into an argument. They were calling each other a changeling, even though I knew for sure none of them were one.

“Those ponies are just scared,” the mare said, frowning at the scene. “After the whole changeling debacle, I guess some ponies still worry about who to trust these days. Some have even gone to blame others for their own misfortune.”

I wetted my dry lips. “And have you ever met a changeling?”

My eyes studied her face, expecting a sharp reaction. But her face was calm. “Once,” she said, albeit a little sadly. “I was thrown inside a cave by one.”

“Oh,” I muttered uncomfortably. All the things I’ve heard about changelings from these ponies have only made me sadder and more confused than I've ever been in my whole life. I had an urge to apologize, but then I remembered I wasn’t a changeling. An apology would feel pointless coming from me.

I distracted myself with trying to flatten a fold in the table’s linen. “Are...you still scared too?” I asked.

The mare shook her head. “No,” she said. “Not anymore.”

My eyes fell on her again. “Why?” I couldn't hide the curiosity from my voice.

How can she be okay with that?

“I've had time to think,” she answered. She stared into her cup with a thoughtful look on her face. “I ask myself, if I was ever put in a position of that changeling queen, would I do the same thing? For my ponies, I probably would… I don't think I can ever hate her, not completely.” Her face turned serious. “It wasn't entirely her fault. It was the hunger—a feeling that went deep inside them and ate them from the inside and out. And it’s not like we’re perfect either. For the entire time we’ve known changelings, no one has ever fathomed the idea that ponies and changelings could coexist.”

I took in her words, letting it swirl around in my head and sink in. “Do you believe we can live together? Is there even something worth redeeming in a changeling?”

“Perhaps deep down…” she said sadly. “But when an entire race has to feed off of other ponies’ emotions, it makes it difficult. Hunger can make anyone desperate.”

There was always one question that's been on my mind since I've lived in the hive: “What do changelings eat?”

“Love,” she answered. “The inspiration behind symphonies and novels and the cause of many conflicts among pony kind. And even now, it's still a problem. It’s one of the strongest forces in nature that can bring ponies together and tear them apart.”

“You seem like you know a lot about love,” I said.

The corners of her lips curve upward in a manner that seemed mischievous, and yet very pleased for some reason. “I dabble,” she said. She picked up her tea, probably lukewarm by now, and eyed it. Steam started to rise from her cup before she took a sip.

My thoughts drifted toward all the changelings and ponies. “Will we be scared forever?”

She didn't say anything at first. Her eyes locked gazes with mine, while my question hung in the air between us, staring at both of us in the face. “I wouldn't know,” she said at last. “Someone is always scared of something.”

“Maybe we don't have to be scared,” I said to her. “Maybe the world would be a little less scary if we all just try to see things differently. And in the end, it'll all work out.”

She remained silent, staring at me intently. There is a glimmer of something behind her eyes. I shied away from her intense gaze, shriveling in my chair.

“At least, that's what I believe,” I finished quietly.

Finally, she smiled. “Perhaps. Impossible things have happened before.”

“Nothing’s impossible,” I said. “Just the other day, I never thought I would get to Canterlot, but here I am. Hooray…” I cheered weakly. Most of the excitement drowned back in the Everfree.

The mare picked up on my gloom. “You don't seem too happy about that.”

“It’s complicated,” I answered, burying my face in my hooves.

“What did you hope to accomplish by coming here?” she asked.

I looked up from my hooves. “I need to talk to the princess so she can help me with my friend.”

She raised a brow. “And what makes you think you can go see her?”

“I don't know… My friend needs my help more than ever. But what can I do? I'm only a child,” I said, with the composure of a filly nearly on the verge of tears and straining to be a grownup. I already had my chance to cry when I lost my friend. Now I had to stop crying and fix this. “She has to listen to me. How else can I fix my mistake?”

“Why her, though?” she asked.

I wiped my eyes before any tears could fall out. “Because I'm not sure who else to turn to.”

The mare turned around as if to fix the neck of her dress, but all of a sudden, she held one long pink feather in her mouth. The tip of it darkened into a shade of violet. It was one of the prettiest feathers I have ever seen. She pulled out a quill and parchment and began writing something down. “Show the guards at the castle this letter and this feather. Then you can see the princess,” she said before handing me the letter.

I couldn't read any of her curly writing. “But how is this going to help?”

She straightened her dress and adjusted her hat. “Trust me. I have my ways of contacting the princess. Unfortunately, I have to be somewhere else soon,” she said.

From across the street, a white stallion trotted up to us. He had the body of a stallion who could probably fight the elite of changelings but had the face of a grown child. “Ready to go, dear? The train to the Crystal Empire is here.”

She broke her gaze from me to nuzzle his cheek. “In a minute, Shiny. Let me say goodbye to my friend.”

The stallion glanced at me, giving a smile and a nod at my presence. “Afternoon,” he said to me.

I nodded and returned the greeting in a small voice. “Afternoon.”

The mare turned towards me. “You are a smart little filly. Great change comes from ponies who are willing to make a change. The only thing you need to do is to keep your heart open and to be good to the people in your life.”

“Okay,” I mumbled, looking at my hooves.

Her hoof touched the side of my face and lifted it up to her smiling face. “Everything will be okay.”

Using magic, she took out a hairbrush from her bag. Without even asking me, she ran the brush through my unkempt hair, tugging knots free. She even went as far as to dab the corners of my damp eyes and cheeks with a napkin.

“A word of warning,” she said, “the princess may seem intimidating at first glance, but you must remember that she’s still a pony like any other.”

A cough by her side. “Um, Cadance, honey?” the stallion said as the mare started wiping the storm drain grime off my face.

“Oh, right,” she said somewhat embarrassingly. “Goodbye.” She stood from her chair and walked side by side with the stallion that accompanied her. He whispered something in her ear to cause her dress to oddly ruffle before she swatted him on the shoulder. But later, she leaned into him lovingly.

I watched her go, and I found myself alone again.

Sitting at the table, I stared at the things the peculiar mare gave me. It was my ticket to seeing the princess. I was only a short walk away from clearing this mess I've gotten Happy in, and then we could finally go back.

I wanted to call the hive my home, but suddenly “home” felt like a stranger to me. Was it still my home now that I know I don't belong there? I wasn't sure what to do after I've rescued Happy. Shoving those thought aside for later, I got up and headed straight towards the castle.

There were two guards by the front gate. Identical white unicorns, garbed in gold armor, stood at each side. They held pointed spears at their side and stood at attention. I gave myself another pat down and fixed my mane once more. I needed to look the part of someone meeting royalty. Casting aside any last moment anxiety, I strode forward with an air of confidence.

Crossed spears blocked my entrance. “Meeting with either princesses is scheduled appointment only. Leave.”

I flapped the letter Cadance wrote in front of one of the guards’ faces. He snatched it with magic and scanned the paper. His face seemed to go from its former stoic neutrality to unexpected disbelief.

I pulled out the pink feather from behind my ear and asked in my most adult voice, “I request an audience with the princess in charge.”

The guards, who not long ago told me to leave, gave a small bow of their heads. “Right this way, miss,” one of them said as he led me past the gates.

Although this change in treatment would have made me happy not so long ago, I couldn’t bring myself to find joy in it. I just wanted my friend. The castle doors loomed in front of me. Too big for any pony I've ever seen. Too ridiculous for any use other than to let others know that it was the entrance. The rest of the castle was just as grand and more magnificent than the speck on the mountainside it was days ago.

The guard leading me exchanged some short words to two more guards watching the entrance. The looming doors opened easily with two ponies pushing it. A sense of familiarity overwhelmed me as I took my first step inside, as well as a foreboding sense of dread.

Led by stalwart stallions armed with spears, like executioners bringing me before my final judgment, I walked with a stoic face, feeling the jitters of anxiety dance in my stomach. What was this princess like and will she listen to me? If my past meeting with Princess Twilight was anything to go by, I only hoped she was more understanding. Because if not, then all of this would have been for nothing.

Who cares about going outside or seeing a sunset when there are more important things going on than the stupid little dream of a stupid little filly with no home and no family. None of it really mattered, as long as there was a problem between ponies and changelings.

I have to get this through to the princess or otherwise run the risk of losing those I love.