//------------------------------// // 10. The Immortal Sisters Part 3 // Story: Dear Small Pony Book // by Carapace //------------------------------// Dear Small Pony Book, Thank you for being patient with me once again. I truly did mean to continue writing straight through, but my overlady called and demanded that I entertain her with the ever-important silly faces. While Shining did tease me for “spoiling her,” I was happy to note that we were unable to partake in our morning ritual of silly faces and dodging oatmeal—the latter to my immense relief—due to our itinerary being so cramped. With that said, I do owe you a second apology. You see, after we partook in silly faces, it was time for Flurry to take a bath. She objected to this, as she is so wont to do, and gave her very best effort to escape. We managed to catch her, thanks in no small part to my sense of smell and ability to track her by the taste of love and joy rolling from her tiny body like waves, though I doubt Princess Celestia expected to come within a hair’s breadth of changeling slime being spat in her general direction again. I caught Flurry Heart, of course, and cocooned her neatly, but I did pause to apologize to the Princess and explain why it was necessary to capture my giggling, squealing overlady in such a manner. Fortunately, she was most amused. Though I would wager she was also rather relieved I didn’t miss so she didn’t have to ask some poor pony to clean up the walls. That, from what I heard after I took ill and was sneezing uncontrollably, was decidedly less fun than cleaning it out of my blankets. But I won’t bore you with those details. Not this time. Once we finished dinner—and I made sure to impress upon the staff ponies that I truly wished for A la Carte to know that the fish was one of the best meals I’d ever tasted that didn’t involve sipping love (high praise from a changeling)—Princess Luna rose from her seat with a fluff of midnight feathers and a swish of starry tail. Shortly thereafter, a pair of guards ponies in purple armor with silver trim were by her side as if they materialized out of thin air. One of whom, a stallion of gray coat and ebony mane, leaned in to whisper something into her ear. I thought for a moment that he looked familiar. Either he had been a subject of our pre invasion discussions, or he was simply known to us by reputation. One of the two. Princess Luna listened patiently, then nodded. “Thank you, Erebos,” she replied. “Inform Lieutenant Strider that we’ll need an additional layer of security when the ambassador and his wife come to visit, then retire for the evening.” The stallion, Erebos, bowed his head. “Yes, Princess. Thank you.” “You’re quite welcome, Captain.” The corners of her mouth twitched. “And do say hello to Night Chill and the foals.” “I’ll do so.” With another salute, he turned and trotted briskly away. The steady clip-clop of his hooves echoed off the walls. It clicked just as he exited the door and disappeared down the hall. Captain Erebos. One of the most infamous members of the Night Guard in modern times. With a family history to match. I swallowed a mouthful of changeling slime. He was one of the ones we were to do our best to stay away from unless we had numbers, and we were ordered specifically to run if he tried tricking us into following him into anyplace with a convenient hiding spot. The Night Guard don’t just fight face to face like their daytime counterparts. No, Small Pony Book, they are quite happy to engage changelings in our own way. And the bat ponies have done it longer and better. They have a certain … way of scenting us out. And they do not like us. Princess Luna turned to me and raised a brow, drawing me out of my momentary stupor and the quick prayers I’d been sending to the First Mother (namely, my thanks that Erebos was leaving the castle). “Come along, changeling ours,” she said teasingly, gesturing toward the door with a slight toss of her head. “I promise I don’t bite.” Even I could not help but note the irony in that statement. But I felt it wise not to point that out. Certainly not in the presence of another Night Guard. Or, well, the entire Royal Family save for Princess Twilight. That joke might be in poor taste. I rose as asked and gave a little bow of my head toward my hosts and Princess Celestia, then stuck my tongue out and waggled it at Flurry when she waved her hooves and crossed her eyes, as that was her usual sign for wanting a preview of silliness. Once that was complete, I walked around the end of the table to meet Princess Luna. She smiled as bright as the stars in her night sky, then beckoned me to follow her out of the dining room and into the hall. For all intents and purposes, I was under her command for the evening. By the way her feathers fluffed as we ascended the grand staircase and trotted down the hallway, and as the bright decor and images of Princess Celestia bathed in sunlight changed to darker shades, visions of fantasy, and Princess Luna herself basking in the glow of soft moonlight, I could hazard a guess that she quite enjoyed the prospect. I, Small Pony Book, was a novelty to her. One she was quite eager to observe. Lucky me? I found myself seated on a most comfortable cushion on Princess Luna’s private balcony. In fact, I dare say this was the most comfortable cushion I’d even reclined upon, and still wonder if this was what I heard the pegasus guards talking about when they spoke of sleeping on clouds. Princess Luna sat in a blue cushion a short distance to my right, with a small table and tea set between us. There were also cookies of various sorts. Peanut butter, chocolate chip, and some sort of cinnamon cookie she referred to by a name I found most ridiculous (and, therefore, perfectly pony): “snicker doodle.” “Try them,” she insisted when she saw the face I pulled while attempting to test the name myself. Her eyes danced with glee as she elected one from the plate and nibbled on an edge. “Since my return, they have been my favorite sweets. Perhaps with the exception of those charming little cakes referred to as moon pies.” I had never tried a moon pie, nor even heard of them, but I chose to nod along and do as commanded. I plucked one of the cookies from the plate and brought it to my nose, drawing in a few snuffling sniffs to see if it might be okay for me to eat. I smelled the familiar scent of cinnamon, which is very much like how Princess Cadence smells and tastes when she gives Shining Armor a certain look. A tasty snack, but I’ve learned that particular time is not a good one to ask for a drink. Still, cinnamon is a lovely taste. Other than that scent, though, it was just a regular cookie. Freshly made, by the way I could press the edge of my fang into it and have it sink in rather than the cookie crumble. The warmth was also a hint. Satisfied with my initial examination, I brought the cookie to my lips and took a bite. The sweet spice of cinnamon and sugar danced on my tongue like someone had set off a fireworks display within my mouth. My breaths quickened, I let out a hungry hiss and devoured the first cookie before Princess Luna could even begin to laugh. A second followed in short order, then a third. We changelings are not known for taking the time to eat slowly when something appeals to us. Unless it’s particularly powerful love. It took great effort on my part to stop before I ended up devouring the entire batch, but I managed. It would have been incredibly rude, I told myself, to rob her of her favored treat. Even in changeling society, we have such thing as good manners. Ours are just … well, they are a little similar. In a way. “I take it,” Princess Luna began with no shortage of humor evident in her tone, “that we should request more snickerdoodles be made the next time you visit?” I felt my cheeks burn. My faceplate must have flushed a deep black as I nodded, for she threw back her head and let out a musical laugh. The stars in her night sky seemed to twinkle and dance in time with her mirth. “Oh, you young ones!” she said between titters. A coy grin spread across her face. “Whether changeling or pony, it seems, there is one constant: you, dear changeling, are quite easy to tease.” Licking my lips, I took a sip of tea to give myself a moment to think up a retort. “Most who try to challenge changelings don’t like the mischief they invite,” I replied. If anything, her grin only widened. “And those who challenge the Princess of Night to a contest of trickery come to learn that she is the master.” Then she cast a wink at me. “But do try if you wish. It has been a lifetime since any other than Tia would engage in such frivolities with me. Even my Night Guard tone it down, as the young ponies say, around me. As if the poor dears forget who I am.” A reply that I believed quite the opposite—that they were painfully aware that she was their princess and thus due their utmost respect—was on the tip of my forked tongue, but I withheld it. Instead, I offered a nervous smile and continued drinking my tea. The silence between us didn’t last too long, fortunately. Princess Luna took it upon herself to begin herself, after a sip of her own tea. “I will confess, you have been the subject of much curiosity since I learned of your presence in the Crystal Empire. Namely, in how different you seemed in nature from your kin.” I couldn’t help but wince. “It’s not exactly their fault,” I muttered, my gaze falling to the warm tea in my cup. “The Queen made sure we were all conditioned to act like that. Anything was solved with fighting. Anything that involved food was to be grabbed and fed on until it couldn’t feed us anymore. The only real fun we had was if we were allowed to cause mischief when we were in disguise.” “How dreadful.” I heard her sigh and looked up to see Princess Luna shaking her head. “It must have been difficult growing up in such conditions.” I won’t go into detail as to what I remembered in that instant, but it wasn’t pretty. I recalled the disciplining, the yelling, the feeling of fangs sinking into my neck more than once. Most of all, I recalled those eyes. Those wicked green eyes with catlike slits, glowing with rage. Or, even more often, shining with sadistic glee as she watched us fight and scrap with one another over bits of food or sips of love while she took the greatest share for herself. I blinked twice and shook my head clear, only to find her staring back at me with concern written plain upon her face. “I’m sorry,” I said. “Is something the matter?” “I believe it is I who should be asking you that question, young Thorax.” Her brow arched. “You look as though you’ve fallen ill. Does cinnamon not agree with changelings?” A shake of my head was all the response I could give her at first. I took a deep breath and squeezed my eyes shut. “Just bad memories,” I forced myself to say. “If it’s not too much to ask, would you mind if we … not talk about it?” Princess Luna gazed at me quietly for a moment longer. I thought I saw her expression falter, like someone watching another suffer, knowing they could do nothing to help. At last, she nodded. “Of course. I will respect your wishes on the matter.” She fixed a small smile upon her face, whether because she felt happy or to try to reassure me, I wasn’t quite certain. But I found myself returning it nonetheless. Albeit a bit weakly. “Let us speak of my family, then,” she said. “You have shown yourself to be quite taken with young Flurry Heart.” My earfins perked up. “My overlady is wonderful,” I replied. “Truly?” “Oh, yes! She is fun to play with and so very full of love! It positively radiates off her, and surrounds everyone around her like she’s trying to wrap them in a blanket all at once!” I gave my wings a merry buzz. “And, if I might say, her ability to escape and evade our attempts to capture her for bedtime or baths is quite impressive.” She let loose another musical laugh. “Oh, foals often are, my dear changeling.” Her eyes glittered. “Though, I dare say my grand niece’s penchant for accidental magic coupled with her flight makes things interesting, no?” My wince must have been quite pronounced, for she had to cover her mouth to withhold a snort. Still, I nodded. “I have found myself embedded in the wall once or twice. Though I do adore Flurry and everyone in the castle, I will not be taking the full force of her magic again. That, I believe, is more for Sunburst or Shining.”* I paused a moment, then hastily added, “Please don’t tell Shining I said that.” “I seem to have forgotten the last several seconds of conversation. Old age can be so cruel to the mind, as my sister might say,” Princess Luna replied without hesitation, though she did fix me with an approving look before casting another wink. “Shining Armor could use a little excitement in his life to keep him fit.” I wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that comment, so I opted to move along. “My hosts—Shining and Princess Cadence, that is—have been most welcoming and understanding as I try to learn the proper way to conduct myself. Princess Cadence, in fact, was quite instrumental in taking me aside and explaining why I should ask for love first, as well as why it might be considered rude or a bit odd if I were to go up to a couple on their day out and note how the strength of their love made them delicious.” “That you would change enough to ask demonstrates a great willingness to adapt your way to ours. However, yes, I would agree that you should avoid such practices.” Here, I felt a nervous chitter begin in the back of my throat, which I forcible quashed. “It was fortunate that it came up when I commented on them one evening … but also rather awkward.” She snorted. “I would imagine so. But onto happier things. Tell me, what else have you learned from my niece and her stallion?” I perked up at that, delighted to move on and tell her about all the things they had taught me or shown me since they granted me asylum. She laughed uproariously when I recounted the tale of the first day I attempted to put Flurry down for her nap, and nearly had a coughing fit when I told her of my reasoning. My stories on how they both had to take me aside to explain some of the differences of pony society brought a more attentive look and a slight furrowing in her brows, which only deepened when I broached the subject of discipline. She heaved a mournful sigh and shook her head. “Every time?” she asked softly. “Each failure?” At my nod, Princess Luna clenched her eyes shut, drawing in a deep breath through her nose. I saw her shoulders tense and wings begin to unfurl like an angry pegasus ready for a fight. Every fiber of my being screamed at me to find a good place to hide. Or a nice pony to shove in a closet so I could take their form and avoid her ire. I’d let them out after she went galloping by, of course. Slowly, Princess Luna let out the breath she’d been holding and opened her eyes. “I suppose it does make sense, in some way,” she muttered more to herself than me. Turning to me once more, she forced a tiny smile. “Onward, onward from such things. You have sated my curiosity on all but one count, young Thorax. One I admit has been perhaps my greatest wonder.” Ever eager to please our rulers, I sat up attentively with my ear fins perked and ready. “I am certain you are quite aware that I am the Princess of Night,” she said, “but few know of my dominion over the realm of dreams. All dreams. I am permitted to enter and aid those trapped in nightmares, guiding them along in my own way to avail them of what torments them in their sleep.” My heart skipped a beat. Maybe two. “Uh …” I bit my lip. I didn’t know what to do or say! Princess Luna turned to face me fully. Her moonlit eyes fixed me in place. “I have seen yours as well. Lovely images, to be true, along with terrible nightmares of your past. I have avoided intervening upon my niece’s request, but I feel I must ask about one which has raised an interest in all of us.” “O-Oh?” I stammered. “Wh-What might that be?” The tiny smile upon her face spread. “I have seen a scene of great joy,” she continued. “Ponies, changelings, and a rather familiar young dragon, all together in a field.” I knew that one. It was … I haven’t written about it because I worry it’s a bit too farfetched. But deep down … yes. Yes, I know it. “There is no fear in the ponies, nor ravenous hunger and want to torment in your kin. Rather, there is only joy. I have seen young changelings and foals at play, chasing one another through the forests, play wrestling, both our kind living in communities together. I have seen changelings rise to the defense of ponies, and vice versa. I have seen ponies offer love and changelings take only what is offered, never more, never less.” “Yes,” I replied, my voice barely more than a whisper. Princess Luna reached out and touched my hoof. “Were you worried to meet my sister and I?” she asked. “Terrified.” I swallowed a mouthful of slime. “I was there when we took Princess Cadence. I was here through it all, even if I didn’t want to be.” “You told them upfront,” came her reply. “We are aware of your tale, changeling ours. But each of us, in our own way, has seen something in you that I wager you thought we might ignore. We have seen something you saw in our own kin, something I believe, with great sadness, that you think they will ignore should you leave my niece’s palace.” I was almost afraid to ask. I was afraid to ask. “What is it?” Her hoof left mine. Then I found it placed upon my chest plate, right over where my heart beat beneath the thickest part of my carapace. “You have a wonderful heart, Thorax,” she replied. “I can glean it from your dreams alone, my sister from the lessons you learn, my niece from the love you offer those around you, her husband from the bonds you share, and my grand niece from the games you play to make her smile. Your love, changeling ours, will not go ignored if you allow others to see it.” I had to swallow again. I felt my faceplate flush as my gaze fell to the marble floor. “I … I just want things to change.” Princess Luna leaned in, as if to share a secret, and whispered, “What desire in thine heart creates such visions?” “It’s … silly.” “Tell me. Allow me to be the judge of that.” My eyes squeezed shut. “I just want everyone to be happy,” I whispered. “I want us to be able to make friends with ponies, to laugh and play and hold jobs. I want ponies to stop looking at us with fear. I just … I wish everyone could get along because maybe that way … we wouldn’t always be hungry.” Princess Luna’s hoof left my chest in favor of cupping my chin and gently turning my head up to meet her eyes once more. The stars above were brighter than I’d ever seen. “Your dream,” she said, “is wonderful, Thorax. Never doubt that. Not for an instant. Maybe someday, in some far off future, the chance will come. Until then, hold onto it. Dream it. Live it. Your friendship with Spike changed the way we saw you. Perhaps now, it’s your turn to change the way we see your kind.”** With her piece said, Princess Luna patted my shoulder and turned to gesture to the plate of cookies. “My curiosity has been sated. And knowing my dear mare-in-waiting, I will be in for a scolding if I ruin my diet by eating many more, but I am loathe to leave A la Carte’s hard work unappreciated.” Her ears waggled. “Would you mind assisting me in this endeavor?” I couldn’t help but smile and run my tongue along the lips and the side of my snout. “I would be happy to, Princess.” *Sleep with one eye open, buddy. You’re gonna wish you’d never heard of water balloons by the time I’m through. **It isn’t silly, Thorax. Come talk to Cady and I when you feel ready to discuss it, but I want you to know that neither of us think this is silly. Far off? Maybe. But not silly. Quite the opposite. As Luna said, this is a wonderful dream. Hold onto it. We will too. In fact, Thorax, I’m going to do my best to help. It might be difficult, but in the end, I think I might have one or two ideas on how to make this happen.