A/N: This little short chapter switches to the third person. Consider it both a teaser for my next story, and something I just wrote for fun.
Bones stood in his room, looking in the mirror as he listened to his sister’s hoofsteps fade as she walked down the stairs. Faintly, he could hear her saying something to Applejack as she made her way out. He needed to be leaving soon as well. It was high time he was at Twilight’s castle for the awards ceremony. And if nothing else, he was rather keen to meet this new leader of the changelings. After all, Bones was a great believer in the saying ‘know your enemy’. Peace or no, the changelings were a species that would bear watching.
Walking over to a nearby set of drawers, he passed his still cluttered bureau. The surface was covered with open books, dusty tomes and jotted notes, but one thing stood out; a manila folder filled with spell diagrams and incantations written in his own hoof. On the cover was a single word; 'FOXDIE'. Passing these things by, he walked to the set of drawers nearest the window and took out some of the few articles of clothing, beside his much treasured hat, which he owned. There wasn’t too much. A nearby wardrobe contained most things, including his prized grey shell jacket and work clothes. These drawers mainly contained odds and ends; handkerchiefs, bandannas, scarves and so on. In particular, the top drawer contained a couple of waistcoats, which he wore on special occasions. Taking out a deep blue navy one, something Rarity had made for him a couple of Hearths Warmings ago, he quickly threw it around his shoulders and buttoned up the front.
There was also a collar and necktie to go with it, completing the image of formality. While it wasn’t strictly necessary for the ceremony, Bones always did prefer to be overdressed rather than underdressed.
Walking back to the mirror, he used his magic to adjust the black bow tie, which now seemed to come alive through his magic. It took a couple of attempts, but he eventually managed to make a presentable bow. A few more tweaks, and he stopped to examine his reflection.
It was then that he paused. It was as if he suddenly noticed somepony else in the room with him. The slight smile he had been wearing a moment earlier vanished, and was replaced with a frown. His expression hardened into something that was not quite a scowl, but nonetheless showed irritation at the intrusion into his privacy.
Turning his head slightly, as if to look at the reflection of somepony standing behind him and to his right, he began to speak.
“Did you think Ah’d forgotten you?” he asked in a soft, low voice. “Perhaps you hoped Ah had.” He took out a small comb and using his magic straightened out his slightly untidy mane, still staring into the mirror, his eyes unblinking.
“Don’t waste a moment feelin’ pity for poor Chrysalis. The fate of all empires is to fall prey to the next one. Just as the head of a pride is eventually cast out by the younger model, it’s time for a new brew in the Changeling Hive. Whether that’s a good thing or not is somethin’ that we can only learn through time. Thorax may be new blood, but he’s earned the respect of his fellow changelings, and revolutions only take that one little spark. Now it’s a question of whether the flames will take, or if the fire will simply die out before the darkness.
“As for Celestia, that’s another dent in her pride, but that only ever makes her stronger. It’s a useful skill; turnin’ catastrophe into success.” He shook his head and smiled. “Clever Celestia; turning her would be captors into the junior partners of a new alliance. But then again, Thorax never did strike me as the forceful type. That’ll have to change. Getting to the top is one thing, staying there is another. Don’t believe me? Well, just ask Celestia.”
Satisfied with his appearance, he turned away from the mirror to face the door out into the hallway. He started off at a steady walk, but at the threshold he paused. Turning to the right, he cracked a wry smile.
“Oh, and welcome back.”