//------------------------------// // Field Hospital 7A, Fifth Equestrian Army Group // Story: The Last Changeling // by GaPJaxie //------------------------------// Shining Armor was dying. In books, he thought, dying was a passive affair. It was something that happened on its own while a character did other things. But as he lay in bed, soaked in his own sweat, a bucket by the bedside for when he vomited blood, it occurred to him that dying felt like quite the active chore. It has been easier, earlier. Then he’d had orders to give, officers to quickly promote, final letters to dictate to friends and family. He’d dictated a formal letter to Celestia, informing her he was no longer fit to fulfill his duties as Captain of the Guard. Then he send her a personal letter, thanking her for everything she’d ever done, and asking her to keep Cadence and Twilight company through the long years ahead. He’d summoned Cadence and Flurry to his side, but they wouldn’t arrive in time. All his affairs were in order. And so there was nothing left to do but die. It was an active verb. He was spending his last moments in the mortal world dying. He hated it. In the field there were things to do. But in his hospital bed, which was full of lumps and itched furiously, which smelled like antiseptics and bile, in that bed there was nothing to do but think. To think about the daughter he didn’t save, or the wife he was leaving alone for eternity. Or the fact that he didn’t really believe in an afterlife. His stomach revolted. The world spun. He rolled over to the side of the bed and vomited a mix of brown and red into the bucket. It burned when it came up. “Here you go, sir.” A bottle of water floated into his sight. Shining looked at the creature offering it to him, took the water, and swished the taste of vomit out of his mouth. He spat it up into the bucket, and it took him effort to get comfortable in bed again. He didn’t have much strength left. “So,” he said, “you’re not my real doctor.” The creature, who looked very much like Shining’s doctor, looked down at herself. She appeared to be a young unicorn mare, green-coated, white haired, with medical red cross for a cutie mark. A white lab coat hung over her shoulders, a stethoscope around her neck, and a collection of bracelets on all four legs. Chagrined, she finally asked: “What gave me away?” “Your bracelets are fused to your ankles.” He pointed with a hoof. The bracelets on her ankles were tight, so snug they were flush against her skin. “The real doctor’s bracelets are loose. They shake or jingle when she walks.” “Oh. Yeah.” She smiled and shook out a leg. “Sorry. I didn’t think you’d like it if I assaulted a medic, so I couldn’t steal her clothes. I faked a message saying she was urgently needed at a field hospital about ten miles away.” She cleared her throat. “I didn’t make you sick. I don’t think any of us did. Or if we did I didn’t know about it.” “I believe you.” She paused at that, tilting her head to one side: “Really?” “Would it make a difference if I didn’t?” He tried to laugh, but it came up as a belch with a foul odor, and a spasm of pain wracked him. “If it doesn’t matter either way, I’d rather trust you.” “Oh.” She nodded quickly. “My, um. My name. My real name, is Ersatz. I’m a spy in one of your artillery units. And I’m your daughter. I’m not here in an official capacity. I wasn’t ordered to be here, I mean. But I heard you were…” She indicated the bed with a nose. “I had blue hair, when I was a grub. But now I have a frill and it turned red in my nymph phase. I don’t look that much like you anymore. Sorry.” “Don’t be sorry.” Shining let out a breath. “But why do you say you’re my daughter? I never loved you.” “I know. But you’re the reason I exist. And, my brother always wanted to meet you.” A section of her skin melted, and from inside that gristly pocket, she produced a small folded photograph. When Shining took it and unfolded it, he saw a colt in that awkward teenage phase. A crystal pony, with a coat like diamonds and a mane like garnets. His cutie mark was almost visible—something with shapes and a musical note. “After the first war,” Erstaz said, “My clutch heard about you adopting a changeling. And we thought, aren’t we supposed to be good now? Like, don’t we believe that friendship is magic and love conquers all? And there were so many war orphans. So we adopted one. The caregivers and teachers and all the nymphs. Like a group pet.” “Cute kid.” Shining managed to smile. “He always wanted to meet you. Um. I already said that. But he asked if you’re his stepfather, and I said I didn’t know. Because, in the hive, you wouldn’t be my father. But we’re siblings, and he’s a pony, so maybe that counts.” She cleared her throat. “His name is Lucky Sweep.” “You love him?” “Yeah.” She chuckled. “I’d have strangled him if I didn’t. You things are impossible to raise. You need love and food and to be kept out of danger, and when you’re little, you somehow manage to create more poop than could possibly have been formed from the food that went into you. Diapers are ridiculous. We all had to install the hive’s first toilet just so I could explain potty training. And then I discovered puberty is a thing. You can’t just crawl into a cocoon and grow up over two weeks like a respectable species. You’ve gotta go through eight years of being angry balls of hormones.” Shining managed a laugh. “It’s true. He learned he could defy you?” “He was going to be a diplomat for the hive. To Equestria. Straight A’s, perfect performance, he was inducted into a caste like a proper changeling, and then he goes and gets a cutie mark for musical theater and says he’s going to run away from home.” Erstaz put on airs of frustration, but her face was covered by a broad smile. “Did he?” “No. He’s a huge wuss.” She giggled. “He’s studying music at Queen Novo’s Conservatory at Harmonizing Heights. He wanted to go to the Crystal Empire, but we all wanted him far away from the war. And he loves it there.” “Good. I’m glad.” Shining handed the picture back. “If you’d like, I could write him a letter. From his ‘stepfather.’” Shining dictated a short letter full of encouraging words. Erstaz wrote it diligently, and tucked it and the picture back into her skin-pocket. Then she said, “There are a few others who would like to see you. If I bring them, will you promise not to shout?” “I want you to promise me something first,” Shining said, and after Erstaz nodded, he continued. “I know you’re a soldier, and you’ll do what your queen commands. But promise you won’t do anything that would make your brother stop loving you if he knew. Don’t go back to being what you were.” After a moment, Erstaz nodded. “I promise.” “And don’t kill my wife or daughters. Promise that too.” “Okay.” She bit her lip, then nodded again. “Okay, I swear.” “Good.” He gestured with a hoof. “Go ahead and bring the others.” There were four more spies. Shining joked that learning how many infiltrators were running around his army was the most embarrassing way to die. There were two changeling soldiers who crossed the lines when they heard he was dying. Their disguises were crude and unrealistic—it wasn’t their caste. There was one defector, who had switched over to the Equestrian side at the start of the war and never looked back. They talked about their lives and their families, and he made all of them make the same promises Erstaz did. They stayed with him until he died. Three years later, Flurry Heart shrugged off her battle armor. The metal plates hit the ground with a clatter. “That gets heavier every day, I swear.” She’d been with the artillery when the sun set, and didn’t want to walk back to the infantry camp until she was sure the ammunition problems were dealt with. Colonel Rain had offered her the use of his command tent for personal quarters for the evening. The other officers were distracted. Flurry Heart was tired, soaked with sweat, and wearing no more armor than a thin underlayer of cloth. And she’d turned her back to the room. Erstaz picked up a knife from the table. She took a step Flurry’s way. For a half a moment, she froze. “Your Highness,” she said, offering the knife to Flurry. “Respectfully, there are changeling spies in the camp. It is not appropriate for you to be unarmored and unarmed with your back to the door. Something could happen.” Flurry thanked for for her diligence, took the knife, and promptly forgot the entire incident.