//------------------------------//
// Act I ~ Chapter 5 
// Story: Unending Love 
// by Azure Notion 
//------------------------------//

“It was wonderful meeting you!” Violet Mural beamed at the stallion wearing some traditional Japonese garb she was certain was named somewhere in the pamphlet.

“Of course! You have a wonderful night, miss.” He returned her smile, then faced the next pony in line. “Hello sir! Hope you enjoyed—”

Violet scanned the crowded foyer and put on a smile as she caught Silver Varnish’s eyes near the entrance and walked over to her date. “Ready to go?”

“If you are,” Varnish replied with that same charming smile he’d given her when they met.

“I am.”

“Then let us abscond.” He turned and walked a few paces towards the entrance. Opening it, he walked out and held it. “For you, milady.”

“Thank you.” Violet nodded at Silver Varnish and exited through the theater door. “Whew! That’s very refreshing.”

“You’re welcome and I agree,” Varnish said, letting go of the door and walking at Violet’s side down the theater’s stone stairs, “It’s quite wonderful, stepping from that stuffy lobby into the cool, night air.”

“The stuffiness was totally worth it though, what with getting to meet the performers.” Violet stepped off the last stair and onto the wide sidewalk. “It was such a captivating taiko performance, I couldn’t not meet them!”

“Mmm, definitely. The energy during the show was absolutely astounding.”

“Wasn’t it?” Violet grinned at him as they and the mild throng of ponies weaved around each other. “I was so surprised when that drummers’ stick broke halfway. I thought she would have had to interrupt the performance to get a new one, but wow. She didn’t spare it a single thought and simply flipped it around and kept drumming. I think she only missed maybe one or two beats.”

“The skills some ponies develop truly are amazing.”

“I wonder how long it took them to get that good,” Violet said, looking up at the night sky, the downtown evening crowd thinning to a mere few ponies.

“Well, the myth about needing five or ten thousand hours to master a craft was debunked a little while ago. Instead, the researchers said it was more dependent upon the pony themselves. Sometimes it takes decades for a pony to become an elite musician, whereas another pony might reach that status in a mere few years.”

“Huh. I didn’t know that.” That particular myth had rather been quite the fact in training. It was why they pushed the trainees so hard. The instructors wanted to get as many hours of experience into each collector-to-be as they could.

I think I finished training with… fifty-four hundred hours? That sounds about right. I wonder if I’m one of the ones who would have needed more time. I suppose—

“A bit for your thoughts?” Varnish interrupted.

“Oh, uh, I was thinking about how much longer I’ll have to go before I can call myself a true artist.”

“Mis— erm, Violet,” he came to a stop, turning and catching her eyes, “I think you are a wonderful artist as it is. There are always areas we can improve upon, but you mustn’t focus on what you could be. Merely focus on what you are. Keep practicing, and time will take care of the rest.”

She looked away and forced a blush on her face. What if I don’t have that time? It’s a little late to be practicing when I need to be doing instead.

“I… suppose you’re right,” she said, looking back down the walkway. She spotted a grassy walkway a block further and thought perhaps she could work on the “doing” part right now. “Ah, Varnish, there’s a park right up ahead. Would you, perchance, like to take a stroll?”

“Ahh, well, you see,” he turned to face her directly, “I was planning on asking if you’d like to come by my apartment. I’d love to show you the piece I’ve been working on the last few days.”

Spindle hesitated. The attraction trickling from him had grown somewhat since they’d met, but so had his lust. Neither provided much sustenance at this point, but her hunger begged her to agree. Even still, she knew some ponies partook in sex after only a few dates, but those generally didn’t tend to be lasting relationships. It was still much too soon, in her opinion, and she wanted this to have the best chance at surviving. Plus, Spindle wasn’t all that interested in bedroom activities in general.

“I’d actually like to wait until it’s finished,” Violet spoke after a short moment. “Though, that does remind me that it is rather late and I’d like to see about doing some more job searching tomorrow.”

She felt the definite disappointment overcome the majority of his emotions. It seemed he was trying to get lucky tonight. Let’s find out if playing hard to get for a little longer works out.

“I see.” A hint of a frown almost made its way onto his face, but she saw it quickly disappear, replaced by his charming smile once again. “Well, in that case, I should bid you adieu.”

Violet watched as he took hold of her hoof, bringing it to his lips and kissing it. She pulled her hoof back and giggled. “Thank you for tonight, Mister Varnish. It was a most wonderful dinner and show,” she said playfully, trying to sound as noble as she could.

“A most wonderful night, indeed, Miss Mural,” he said, playing along. “Mayhap we shall see each other again soon?”

“Oh, yes, on the, uh… on the…“ She snorted and broke into giggles. “Yes, I’d love to, Varnish. How does dinner in two nights sound?” The gnawing hunger in her chest urged her to say tomorrow, but she beat it down. It wouldn’t do to appear too eager.

“Mm, I’m afraid I’m busy that night. How about the night after, Wednesday, I believe?”

She nearly grunted in regret, but masked it with a smile. “That’ll work perfectly.”

“Excellent. Then I shall look forward to our next meeting.”

“So will I.” She moved closer, spreading her foreleg and hugging him, him hoof wrapping back around her. They parted after a moment and she looked back into his eyes. “Have a good night, Varnish.”

“You as well, my dear.”

With one last parting smile, she turned and walked away, heading back south into downtown. As had become the usual, she felt him watch her leave. The attraction and lust hung in the air for a moment before the distance became too great for her senses.

Now that she was alone amongst the late-night strangers, the frown she’d been holding back the entire night fell onto her face. She’d been able to keep herself from grimacing, but now without a distraction and no one to act for, the overwhelming need for love came at her with its full force. Only once or twice during training could she remember the clawing, gaping, pulling, crushing in her chest being this intense.

Except, back then, it was easy to deal with. She knew it would be over after a while.

As she passed back into the downtown crowd, she tried to put at least a neutral expression on, but the edges of her lips wouldn’t stop twitching into a glower.

Maybe… maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. A little bit of fleeting physical affection wouldn’t be worth a lot, but maybe it could curb the hunger for a day or two. Her gait froze for a few beats. I bet if I hurried back, I could find him and take him up on the offer. She began stepping to the side to turn around.

“Oof,” Violet grunted as something ran into her from behind.

“Hey! You mind not stoppin’ in the middle of the walkway?” A mare said, walking around and giving Spindle a nasty look.

“Sorry.” Violet winced, offering a sheepish smile. “I was, uhh…” she trailed off, the mare ignoring her and continuing on her way. She quickly followed the rude stranger’s example, not wanting another encounter.

Spindle shrunk into herself and walked on. Not only did she almost ruin her chances at a decent relationship, she got distracted in the middle of a downtown sidewalk!

Come on! Get your head together! Ignore the pain, it’s only been a week. You went through worse in training. Go back to your room and wait for Wednesday.

Though, the waiting was only half the problem. What she really needed was the response from the hive. It had been four days since she’d arrived in Cincinneighti and sent off a request for help to the hive, but still nothing. It wasn’t like them to be this late and the implications of their delay settled like a rock in her stomach. She had no idea what she’d do if they didn’t get back to her.

If they didn’t, then… then she’d be truly alone.

A chill ran down her spine at the thought. If the hive never got back to her, there’s no way she’d be able to find the Cincinneighti changelings. She couldn’t go back to Hoofington; that bridge had burned a week ago. And if the hive wouldn’t respond to her here, they wouldn’t respond to her anywhere.

There was no way she could handle being alone. Not only was she not experienced enough, she had no way to support herself. Forcefully draining a pony was an option, but right now that would only make her and every other Cincinneighti changeling’s lives more difficult. Not to mention she couldn’t stand doing it.

Spindle shuddered with disgust.

She absolutely hated the feelings the ponies went through during training. The fear, helplessness, terror, anger, and despair tasted so horrible when they forced her and the other trainees to drain the captive ponies over and over.

Though, short of that, there really was nothing to do but wait for the hive to respond. She grimaced and realized that if she had to steal again to survive until her emergency package came, then… that’s what she had to do.

Draining a pony simply wasn’t an option. It was too dangerous.

If I can keep my transformations down to zero and not exert myself, I should be able to last another week. She had absolutely no desire to let her hunger get that bad, but she had nearly no say in the matter. Either the hive came through or…

She didn’t want to even entertain the thought. Instead she continued on down the street, trying not to think about the worst case scenario.





A dozen or two blocks and a few turns later, The Golden Inn finally came into view.

Nothing golden about the place anymore. Those years came and went a while ago, Spindle thought, not for the first time as she took in the sight of the poor building. Faded yellow paint chipped off the two story building, the dry swimming pool looked like it hadn’t been used in years, and the carriage lot cobblestone had more than a couple missing stones.

Regardless of the quality, it was the only motel she was able to find that allowed her to book a week at a time and pay at the end of each week.

Though, before she could settle in for the night, she needed to check with the front office. She made a beeline for the lighted office door below the half lit Vacancy sign. When she reached the door and peered through the rectangular window, she was relieved that there was actually somepony posted at the desk for once.

Opening the door, the mare at the front desk glanced up from her magazine. Violet was only a little offended at the following eye roll.

“Look, lady,” the attendant groused, “if you’re here about your mail again, I told ya two nights ago that if ya had any, I’d put it in your room.”

Spindle nearly recoiled at the deep annoyance flowing from her. “I’m sorry. The other mare this morning told me to check in with you tonight. I was only—”

“Petunia?” she spat, setting down her magazine. “She don’t know nothin’. And what, ya didn’t trust me enough that ya went and asked somepony else?”

“No, that’s not it.” Violet shook her head and held up a hoof to placate her. “The topic just happened to come up and she told me to check with you in case it came in during her shift.”

“Look,” she placed her hooves on the counter and glowered at Violet, “I told ya twice before that if ya got mail, I’d get it to ya. I don’t want to have to tell ya again. Ya got it?”

“Y-yes, ma’am.” Spindle nodded her head. “Sorry. Have a good night.”

All Violet got in return was a huff and another eye roll as the mare sat back in her chair.

Turning around and exiting the front office, Spindle continued around the office and headed up the barely lit stairs. Passing by rooms, she counted.

Room 14, room 15, room 19, she raised an eyebrow in passing, aaand room 17.

The first time she’d been confused and paused at “room 19.” She’d chuckled when, on closer inspection, the missing top nail from the six became apparent.

She grimaced, thinking about how much less amusing it was after she found out what was beyond the doors. Though, as Spindle looked down at the door lock, one of the few nice things she found about the motel was the lack of keys. Using her magic, she put in her room’s combination number into the old five button lock. As she’d gotten used to, the first couple times a button got stuck, but on the third try, it unlocked.

A nicety in the ‘golden’ years. Nothing but an annoyance now.

Entering the room, she flicked on the lights and looked at the desk and bed. She sighed as, yet again, no mail. Closing the door behind her, she continued into the room and flopped down on the old and worn lounge chair, wincing as she hit a loose spring. Both it and the bed were equally as lumpy and uncomfortable. Though like the previous three nights, neither would be where she slept.

Spindle laid her head back, and flopped it to the side, gazing lethargically over at the bathroom. She wondered if she should give in and get into the tub to sleep. At least then she’d have the slight comfort of feeling like she was back in the hive, the cold metal passingly similar to their underground, rocky-cubby sleeping quarters.

With nothing better to do, she sighed and got up, walking towards her sleep hole.

Three knocks on the door made her pause and look at the room’s entrance. Who could that be? I’m not expecting… her eyes went wide and she gasped. Could it be mail?!

Hopeful, she turned and trotted to the door, opening it.

“Silver Varnish?” Violet asked, her face contorting in confusion. “What are you doing here?”

“What am I doing here?” Varnish scoffed. “What are you doing here?”

“This is where I’m staying,” she said, fighting the urge to shrink into herself at her embarrassing, sordid housing state. Though Spindle had no earthly idea what Varnish could even be doing at her door, she was even more confused at the… anger that dripped from him.

“Varnish, is there something you needed?”

“Mind if I come inside?” he said, nowhere near as harshly as his emotions betrayed.

“I, uh, sure?” Violet stepped back and allowed him inside, shutting the door behind him.

“So, this is where you’ve been staying,” he repeated, looking around the room.

“Yes, it is,” she said simply, deciding to let him carry the conversation since he didn’t seem to want to answer her questions.

After a moment, he turned to face her. “You know, I had been curious. Why it was that you never carried anything. Why you never had any bits. I’d been happy to pay for your meals and the theater ticket, but I think I understand now. This explains a lot.”

“Wait,” Violet pleaded, feeling his distaste and disappointment. “This isn’t what you think.”

“Oh?” He merely raised an eyebrow at her. “And what is it that I think, hm?”

“I…” she paused, not expecting him to flip it around on her. “I don’t know, but I’m sure you think it’s bad or I was being deceitful.”

“It’s hard to believe,” he said wistfully, “that I didn’t recognize the signs.”

“Signs?” Now she began to worry, his changeling paintings flashed into her mind. Though she didn’t sense any suspicion from him.

He looked directly into her eyes and scowled. “Once they realize it, I doubt you’ll find many ponies willing to entertain a gold digger.”

“Wha—Gold digger?!” Her eye twitched. This is what made their relationship crumble? Him being too prejudiced to realize it could be any number of situations that could put her here? Spindle’s jaw clenched. 

Who does he think he is, coming to my room this late at night, asking—her eyes went wide with sudden realization. “Varnish. You followed me. Just what were you planning on doing had I been somewhere more… acceptable?” she spat the last word.

He gave her an exaggerated eye roll. “Well, you needn’t worry about that anymore. We’re—”

“Excuse me?” Spindle narrowed her eyes. “I don’t need to worry about what?! Tell me what you were planning on doing!”

“I was merely hoping to find your address so I could have sent you something special.”

“That is… unbelievably creepy. Do you stalk all the mares you get into relationships with?”

“Of course not!” He reeled back and held a hoof to his chest. “And I was not stalking you!”

She fumed, her jaw clenching again. I can’t believe this! The first potential source I find and he’s a complete creep!

A knock on the door shook her from her anger. The two of them looked over at the door, then back to each other. She ignored his questioning look and walked over to open the door. “Hello?”

“Miss Violet?” a frowning, rather rotund, brown earth pony asked.

“Yes? That’s me.” Spindle’s brow furrowed. Just outside and out of her view, she sensed more ponies, two of them it seemed. 

“My name is Hard Note. I’m the manager and owner of this motel. May I come in?”

“I, erm, kind of already have company.”

Stepping into the doorway, Hard Note spotted Silver Varnish and immediately burst out laughing. “Oh, my. Have you paid her yet?”

“What?!” Spindle sputtered.

“That is not what this is,” Varnish said, scowling at the chuckling manager.

“Either way,” Hard Note looked back at Violet, his snicker fading and frown returning, “we can do this with or without him here.”

“Do what?” Violet asked, “I don’t understand what this is.”

“Your choice.” Hard Note shrugged, then stared her in the eyes. “One of my maids came through today to clean your room, same as the last few days. But you know what she didn’t find? Anything at all. No saddlebags, no bits, nothing. Not even the bed had been touched.”

Spindle tried to quell the rising panic, but her pounding heart refused to listen. “Okay? Why is that a big deal?”

“I asked around, too,” Hard Note continued. “None of my employees have ever seen you leave or come in with anything.”

She opened her mouth to speak.

“That means,” he interrupted, “that you probably don’t have any bits on you. Bits that would be mine in a few days.”

“N-no,” Spindle stammered, “I have a friend, she’s sending me bits. They’re in the mail, right now!”

Hard Note laughed mirthlessly. “If I had a bit for every time I heard that, I wouldn’t be running this place.”

“What are you going to do if she can’t pay?” Silver Varnish spoke up.

“Why? Are you gonna pay for her stay?” Hard Note said, then cut Varnish off, scowling at Spindle again. “It doesn’t particularly matter, though. I’ve been in this business for a long while. This place didn’t start out like it is now, but you take what life gives you. And Miss Mural, life has given me quite a few things over the years.

“So, trust me when I say I know what a pony on the run looks like.”

Hard Note’s voice faded out, Spindle’s vision tunneling. She just got here and already everything was collapsing around her. What did I do? I maintained all my disguises, I found a source, I found a place to stay. Why can’t I get things right?

“…be wrong though.”

She forced herself to focus back on Hard Note, trying to keep her breathing under control and her emotions in check. Come on. Be like Firefly. You can handle this.

“Tell me,” the manager began again, “who’s the pony that’s sending you these bits?”

“My friend, Peppermint Spice, over in Manehattan. We were close friends a while back.”

“Interesting.” The frown still hadn’t left Hard Note’s face. He turned halfway around. “Hey, Dew.”

Spindle’s eyes were drawn to a mare peeking around the doorframe.

“Yeah, boss?”

“Give me that letter we got today.” He held his hoof out and the mare’s horn lit, a letter floating into his hoof. He turned back to Violet, looking down at the envelope. “Says here it’s to a Violet Mural. But the funny thing is, it’s from an Ivory Swirl.”

Ivory? Her eyebrows shot up and her heart began racing. But they only use that when the hive won’t respond. She took a step forward. “T-That’s her roommate. Can I have it? Please?”

He held it out to her. “It’s your mail.”

Grabbing it in her magic, she tore the side off and pulled out the letter. She flipped it open and began reading.

Dear Violet,

I’m really sorry to hear you’ve run into hard times. Unfortunately, Peppermint is out for the moment, so I’m writing in her place. We’ve also had some difficulties come up in our lives. I’m sorry to say, but neither of us have anything to give you right now and I don’t know any of her friends over there, if she has any.

Again, I’m so sorry. Maybe you could try some of your other friends from your last town?

I truly wish you the best and hope you can find someone to help you.

Your friend,

Ivory

Spindle blinked in disbelief at the letter. Had there been no pheromones on the letter, she’d have thought it was intercepted. But it was the real thing.

The hive’s not coming. What happened? Why couldn’t the courier get anything from the hive? Did the wedding really go that badly? Answers would not come, but as she lowered the letter, she saw the impatient hoof tapping of Hard Note.

Putting the letter back in the envelope, she set it aside on the nightstand. Her eyes turned back to Hard Note’s furrowed brow. “S-she said Peppermint was out and they couldn’t spare anything.”

“Is that so?” he asked, a smugness tinging his voice. “Real convincing story, that. Then it looks like we have a little dilemma on our hooves, haven’t we?”

“No!” Spindle blurted, shaking her head. “I know somepony else. I’m sure they’ll be able to help me out!”

“Then why didn’t you send them the letter in the first place?” Hard Note’s frown deepened. “See, this is the kind of thing that ponies say when they’re trying to buy time. Except they usually have nothing to purchase it with. So, here’s how this is going to work. You’re going to come with me down to the guard station.”

“I don’t think you have the authority to do that,” Varnish piped up. “Only guards can make arrests.”

Spindle peered over at Varnish. She’d kind of forgotten he existed for a bit, but a tiny shred of hope fluttered at his unexpected defense.

“Look, prissy boy,” Hard Note glared at him, “if she’s a criminal, the guard will thank me. And if not, the worst I’ll get is a slap on the fetlock.” Hard Note shrugged, then craned his head back. “Hey, you two!”

Spindle’s eyebrows rose in surprise when the unicorn mare from earlier and a broad shouldered stallion peeked around the corner.

“Yeah?” the mare asked.

Hard Note turned back to Varnish, pursing his lips and raising an eyebrow. “So, you gonna be an accessory to a criminal?”

“Aheh, ah. No, not at all.” Varnish waved his hooves in submission. “Please, she’s all yours.”

The shred of hope lit ablaze by his audacity, burning into flames of anger in Spindle’s heart.

“Excellent.” Hard Note backed out into the walkway looking to either side of the doorway. “Go ahead you two. We’re gonna take miss Violet on a little night trip.” He stepped out of sight.

Surprise forced Spindle back several steps, the more-hulking-than-she’d-realized earth pony stallion entered, the mare following behind. 

Spindle couldn’t go to the station. They’d torture her and make her tell them everything and the ponies would kill all the changelings and it would all be her fault!

She couldn’t. She wouldn’t! I won’t allow it! I’ll die before I let that happen!

Her anger flared even brighter, igniting into fury. Wavy Palette’s horrible timing, Varnish’s continued betrayal, Hard Note forcing her to run again. Her own ineptitude. They all swirled inside her, growing into a bonfire of rage.

The hammering of her heart faded away and she set her jaw. She took one final glance at Silver Varnish, the worthless creature having retreated into the corner. She locked eyes with him and gave him what she hoped was the most vile, hate filled look he’d ever received.

Green fire overtook her body.

The surprise on his face and sudden terror in his heart as his gaze rose to meet hers was like candy to Spindle. She would have loved to savor it and wring more from him, prove to him how accurate his paintings truly were.

But there were more pressing matters.

She faced the hulking pony, the stallion’s hooves frozen in place, staring wide eyed at the massive Bobby Pin now before him.

Spindle channeled love into her magic and picked the stallion up, throwing him aside, his body cracking the wall and falling limply to the bed. She turned her hate filled gaze to the now terrified mare, taking two steps forward and looking down at the little filly. An acrid stench filled the room and Spindle nearly jeered at the puddle forming between the unicorn’s hindlegs.

“Move.”

The mare squeaked and tried to step aside, but slipped and fell in her own mess.

A mere eye roll was all Spindle deigned to give her and stepped over the prone mare, ducking under the doorway.

She looked left and enjoyed the shocked face of Hard Note. "If I ever see you again, you’ll wish you never owned this motel.” 

Spindle faced forward and green flames flashed on her back, wings forming upon it. She hopped over the safety rail and channeled love magic into her legs. Her hooves slammed hard into the cobblestone below, leaving a wide divot in the ground.

She leaped into the air, flying up and off into the night.

Faster and faster she flew, rage fueling her. She raged at the worthless stallion she wasted her time on. She raged at the greedy owner. She raged at her own inability. 

The faux alicorn took a deep breath and screamed. She screamed at the world for being so cruel. At ponies for taking everything! At her own worthlessness!

Every bit of herself she poured into the scream until she finally had nothing left. Her yell died off and she gasped for breath, her wings slowing, refusing their continued abuse. Tears formed and were torn away as the wind whipped past her.

It was cold, she realized, and she was tired. She looked down and gasped as she realized just how high she’d gotten. Only a few lights speckled far below and she flapped to a stop. Twisting her body around, she gaped at the distant city lights far behind.

Shock at what she’d done ran through her and sheer fatigue washed over her, the adrenaline fading from her system. She panted, fighting to keep her eyes open. All at once, she realized she wanted nothing more than to sleep.

The very idea was enough to force her eyes closed. Only for a couple seconds, she reassured herself. Only a couple seconds.

Cold air flowing along her body felt so wonderful. All of a sudden, the wind picked up and it made her smile. It blew hard across her side, then back, then straight at her face. It reminded her of the artificial underground wind tunnels back in the hive.

Many times as a young nymph she’d gone into them, loving the feel of air rushing past her. Smiling, she remembered how she’d close her eyes and imagine she was outside, flying through the dark night. Months later, she’d snuck out of the hive and took to the black, starry sky.

She instantly fell in love with it. 

That night, everything was wonderful. The way the moon shone off the desert sand and how the stars twinkled above was breathtaking. The plants, the hills, the rocks, they were all simply... below.

She’d made a vow then. She promised she’d get out of the hive one day and see the world from more than just stolen picture books.

Her smile soured as her excursion’s swift end came to her, unbidden. The gust that threw her young body. She’d hit the ground a moment later, cracking her carapace and tearing a wing. The pain was overwhelming. Quietly whimpering, she forced herself to make as little noise as she could, lest a wandering pony find her. A hive patrol found her hours later.

Spindle didn’t like remembering that part.

So she didn’t.

Instead, she breathed in the cold, rushing air.

And she smiled, basking in the ever shifting wind.

Her smile slowly faded. Something was off. She wasn’t outside the hive, was she? She was in Hoofington. No, she was...

Spindle gasped and her eyes flew open. She flailed, the air rushed around her tumbling body and the ground came into and went out of view.

She pushed a wing one way and tumbled even faster. She pushed another, barely managing to slow her spin. Again and again she twisted and turned until one shove nearly brought her back into control. Another twist and she was upright.

With as much of herself as she could, she poured love magic into her wings and flared the massive appendages, flapping hard. Her teeth clenched and eyes squeezed shut, the pain from resisting so much force shooting through her muscles.

Flap after agonizing flap, she kept pushing magic to her wings and finally, she slowed down. The exertion tore gasps from her throat and she felt herself finally slow to a hover. She opened her eyes and looked down, the ground had finally stopped a mere half dozen meters away.

She glanced around and saw houses scattered along a street a short ways away. Turning and following the moonlit road with her eyes, a streetlamp to the side caught her eye. In its illuminating light with but a single house’s yard between her and it, a flat roofed building stood. Long shadows were cast from the roof’s raised edges and the tall sign atop it.

Safety, was all she could think.

Slowly, she flew over to it, wincing from the effort of her strained wings.

Halfway there, she gasped and faltered, her right wing nearly giving in. Quickly righting herself again, she set her jaw and groaned deep as she pushed herself harder. 

“Come on. Just a little further,” she hissed through her clenched teeth. Her eyes locked onto the ever closer roof edge. “Come on!”

Finally, she passed over the building and clipped her hind hoof on the ledge, sending her tumbling down. The roof greeted her side with a loud thud, and a pained cry wrest itself from her. She scrambled, trying to get onto her haunches, but merely managed to push herself around. Wriggling, she got a foreleg under herself and pushed, grunting from the effort.

Her head abruptly rolled as the world began to wobble beneath her. She tried to sway against the twisting, turning roof, but blackness crept into her vision and her leg gave out.

Blinking hard did nothing to clear her spinning double vision. Through the haze, she made out the big sign’s supports, barely illuminated by the streetlamp. She pushed and pawed, sliding her heavy alicorn body along the dirty rubber roofing towards the meager cover. 

Pathetic groans escaped her as her legs pressed and slipped and raked at the roof. The streetlamp soon disappeared behind the sign. A few more hard shoves and she felt the raised ledge tap against her back. Her limbs fell still and she let loose a deep grunt.

Safe. The word rang out in her dizzy, fading mind. Safe.





Blackness was everywhere and a ringing filled the void.

There was nothing else and that ringing noise made no sense. Why wasn’t anyone turning it off? They couldn’t be bothered, apparently.

Without warning, the darkness disappeared.

In its place were strangely angled wooden beams and scattered leaves along a black, speckled ground. Light shone brightly upon it all, but everything lacked color.

For a long moment, it remained that way and it soon grew confusing, then annoying. Why isn’t this pony getting up? Come on, get up! 

Nothing.

Wind picked up and blew about the leaves, rustling along the ground. Maybe they liked listening to the sound of leaves on the wind? Except they could have chosen a far better place than wherever this was.

Plus, that ringing made it entirely unenjoyable. No sign of where it was coming from, either.

Really? No one wants to watch someling look at a bunch of nothing.

Still no answers.

More seconds passed and finally the ringing started dying down. The sounds in her ears became sharper and the colors slowly returned to her sight. Finally, why wouldn’t they—

”HUAAGH!” Spindle cried out, fierce pain clawing deep in her chest and she curled in on herself. Her teeth ground together, her eyes clenched shut, whines forced their way from her throat.

The clawing turned to squeezing and she kicked her hind legs, trying desperately to get away from the agony. Squeezing turned to pulling and she choked on her whines. She kicked and pressed and clenched, but long moments passed and the pain flowed between the opposing torturous sensations.

She gasped as, finally, the torment lessened. The pain turned to a deep, empty, gaping hole in her chest and her weary, straining muscles gave out. She was left sprawled on her side, gasping for breath on the rooftop.

Relaxing her clenched eyes, Spindle slowed her breathing until it was mere deep breaths, in and out. She dared open her eyes and was greeted by the same dark, leaf covered roof with wooden beams bolted down, leading behind her. She took one final deep breath and rolled onto her belly. 

Shakily, she pushed herself up onto all fours, but fell to her haunches when the dizziness overcame her. She braced herself and waited it out, taking more shaky breaths until the world stopped spinning.

Spindle sat there for a moment longer, taking in the place around her. The midday light shone above her, casting short shadows along the roof. At the bottom of her vision, blue caught her eye. She looked down and saw the familiar light blue leg.

It all came back to her.

She covered her head in her forelegs and whined. The play, Silver Varnish’s betrayal, the motel owner, her rage.

A gasp tore itself from her and her eyelids flung open, leaving her staring wide-eyed at nothing. Dread filled her as she realized what she’d done.

Her love.

She held a leg against the deep, aching hole in her chest. The amount of love she’d thrown away the night before left her dumbfounded. Without a single thought, she’d burned through it. Her mind went blank and she couldn’t even think of how little she must have left.

Tears began forming and she shook her head, not willing to let them take her. It didn’t matter how little she had left and trying to consider how long it would last her was a fruitless effort.

Come on, get your head about you, her thoughts fell back to her training. First thing after finding safety is to ensure you have a proper disguise.

Last night left her in a Celestia-sized Bobby Pin. That had to go.

Okay, colors, think. She squinted and tried to come up with something. The color wheel came to mind, but where the colors were escaped her. Complements and triadics and analogues were words and she knew their meanings, but all the colors shifted and blended about on the wheel.

Blue’s complement is… red? No, green? After yellow is… is… I don't remember!

Huffing, she realized her meticulous methods weren’t going to work. Taking a deep breath, she risked slowly standing on all fours again. Relieved that the dizziness mostly stayed away, she loosed the air from her lungs and meandered over towards the roof’s edge.

She looked out along the sparsely populated land. A small cluster of interspersed houses surrounded the building below her, which she assumed was a store of some sort. Further out was a park with a playground and a couple more store-like buildings and beyond that was farmland as far as she could see.

Few ponies were out. It was the middle of the day and she considered herself lucky most ponies were probably busy working.

Remember, disguise. Don’t get distracted. Focus. Spindle looked around for anything that could provide her inspiration. Trees and grass and houses were all over, but those colors hardly made for good disguises.

Splashes of color caught her eye in the edge of her vision. Turning towards the rear of the store, she saw a bed of flowers in somepony’s backyard. The most prominent plant was a big bush full of yellow, orange, and red flowers. Marigolds, if I remember them right.

She shrugged. It was better than nothing.

Closing her eyes, she envisioned a winged body of orange, mane of cherry red, and beautiful yellow irises. A cutie mark of three yellow marigold flowers in a pot. She kept the idea in her head, let it solidify. Certain she had it exactly right, green flames encompassed her.

Her entire body seized and she fell down, a gargled scream boiling up from her throat. The claw within her had grown impatient and tore chunks from her heart. Hooves dug at her chest, trying desperately to rid herself of the sharp, burning agony.

Moments passed and far sooner than the last bout, the pain lessened to a dull squeezing. She relaxed the jaw she hadn’t remembered clenching and flopped her legs back to the roof. Laying there, staring at the roof’s side raised ledge, she chuckled mirthlessly. It wasn’t a matter of how much love she had.

There simply isn’t any left. Or at least so little that it barely matters.

Never had she felt or seen it happen, but she knew what came next. Her body would start tearing itself apart, everything inside her fighting to fuel themselves. Soon enough there wouldn’t be enough love to go around and her organs would start shutting down.

She sighed deeply, pushing herself upright and ignoring the aches in her limbs.

It didn’t matter then.

Finally, she’d screwed up so bad that there was no coming back from it. No love crystals, no pony to give her love, and no changelings to come to her rescue. Her body was so weak, even if she wanted to drain a pony, a shove was all it would take and she’d be flopping uselessly on the ground.

Looking herself over, a half smile made its way onto her face. She was pleased to see her transformation worked right, even her cutie mark.

Fatigue swept over her and her musings were cut short. She hadn’t realized how tired she was.

I want to sleep, but I refuse to be here when it happens. I wanna be somewhere else, somewhere nice.

Spindle shook her head and blinked her vision clear. Not yet. Not on a dirty roof. She spread her wings and crouched down before taking off. The claw suddenly tore more of her heart and she gasped. She quickly realized the world wasn’t getting further away. Her eyes grew wide as she looked down at the ground coming to meet her.

Flapping only slowed her and she cried out, her hooves striking the hard ground. Shocks ran up her legs and into her shoulders even as the deep pain from her chest lingered. But she clenched her jaw and pushed through it, standing straight. Even so, she stayed still for a long moment, trying to will the hurt away.

Wiping away the moisture that had formed in her eyes, she took a step, then another, then another. She stumbled and flailed her legs forward, barely managing to catch herself. Come on. You can do this. Just one hoof in front of the other. Don’t think about it.

She kept her eyes forward and staggered ahead. Stepping a hoof out onto the sidewalk next to the store, she sluggishly peered left and right. Further down the road to the right she saw the park. It had pretty flowers and a waving brick walkway. Trees that would provide wonderful shade from the high sun. She smiled and thought it seemed like a rather nice place.

Slowly, she made her way. A stallion passed her on the sidewalk and gave her an odd look. She replied with what she hoped was a friendly smile. One block later, she crossed the road and entered the park.

It really was such a beautiful place. Whoever tended the park did so with such love and care. She stopped at the flowers along the side of the walkway and held one in her hoof.

Be thankful, little one, for someone loves you very deeply. She leaned down and inhaled deeply, nuzzling the flower. Pulling back, she gave it a sad smile. I’m glad at least one of us can boast such things.

Spindle looked back up and gazed down the park. Halfway down, atop a grassy hill stood a big oak tree. It was almost picturesque and it seemed like a wonderful place to… be.

Her walk continued, the smile never leaving her face. She passed beds of flowers, pretty wooden benches, and the playground, a few foals laughing and playing. Minutes later, she turned and walked up the hill, looking up at the leaves just beginning to turn from their lustrous green as fall neared closer.

At the hill’s peak, she set her hoof on the bark of the tree. Thank you. Thank you for being here. Though… I’m sorry if you aren’t liked much after today.

Taking a deep breath, she turned around and sat down, leaning against the oak. The vantage, even from the small hill, was beautiful. The sun had fully risen, shining down upon the land. Off in the distance, the tall buildings of Cincinneighti stood, its ponies no doubt bustling about.

Fatigue reared itself again and her eyes became very heavy and the tips of her hooves began to tingle. She wanted to sleep, but… she’d wait a little longer. She wanted to see as much of the world as she could, even if there wasn’t much left to see.

A strangled gasp broke through her smile and tears filled her eyes. She let the tears flow, no longer needing to hold them back. She wished for more, but life hadn’t seen fit to grant it to her. Morbidly, she wondered if she was going to be the first changeling to die of starvation in the middle of pony society. Tears rolled down her cheeks and she watched foals run and swing and chase each other in the playground while some adults sat off to the side.

Spindle’s face fell as she realized her selfishness.

The playground was right there. The foals would be able to see when she… left. Ponies may have been her enemy, but she never wished harm to anyone’s young. She leaned forward, but her legs refused to carry her again. She laid her head back against the tree and snorted, closing her eyes.

Even at the end, you couldn’t get things right.

She grunted, grimacing, the pain in her chest tore at her even more.

But graciously, the pangs began to fade and she watched as the gentle wind blew the grass and trees about. Pegasi flew, going off to do whatever the day held for them.

Her tears had dried up, she noticed. That was okay. She closed her eyes again and leaned back against the tree. Tears weren’t needed anymore.

Everything would be okay.

Relaxation flowed through her body. Her breathing slowed and she made herself grow still, trying to welcome sleep.

“Hey, miss? Are, uhm, are you okay?”

Spindle opened her eyes and blurry shapes filled her vision. A moment later, the haze grew clear and a little to her right, a cute little unicorn filly stood. The girl had pink fur and a cute amethyst mane done up in a ponytail. The poor thing didn’t even have her cutie mark yet.

“Miss?” The filly looked up at her with some of the most beautiful baby blue eyes Spindle had ever seen.

Ah, right. She asked a question. “Y—” The word caught in Spindle’s dry mouth. She swallowed and cleared her throat. “Yes, sweetie. I’m okay. Don’t worry about me.”

“Well, it’s just,” the filly began, looking down and kicking a hoof at the ground, “I saw you were crying and my momma says that it’s okay to cry. But after we’re done, we should be strong and put on a big smile, ‘cause it won’t be bad forever.”

The concern and kindness pouring from the filly was delicious and she ate up every bit of it. Spindle couldn’t help but giggle. “Your mommy must be a very smart lady.”

“Uh huh!” She frantically nodded her head, a big grin on her face. “She’s the smartest pony in the whole world!”

Her baby blue eyes were filled with such mirth and youthful energy, Spindle couldn’t help being a little jealous.

“Ruby, dear!” an amber colored pegasus mare called, walking up from behind the filly. “Who are you talking to?”

The filly apparently named Ruby spun around, her smile still every bit as strong. “Hi mommy! I’m talking to… uhh,” she turned back around, sheepishly looking up at Spindle, “what was your name, miss?”

Spindle couldn’t help but laugh, as weak as it was. The innocence of foals was something to be treasured. “My name’s Marigold.”

Ruby turned back to her mother as she arrived at the filly’s side. “I was telling Miss Marigold that she should try smiling because she was crying.”

The mare stopped next to her daughter and sighed, but offered her filly a kind smile. “Sweetheart, you need to be careful what you say. It can hurt other pony’s feelings to talk about them like that.”

“Oh.” Ruby’s smile instantly dropped off her face and she sat down, looking away.

“It’s okay, sweetie. You didn’t know. I’ll explain it to you later, okay?”

“Okay,” Ruby mumbled.

The mare looked back at Spindle. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s perfectly okay.” Spindle put on a friendly smile, though it seemed tired, even to her. She looked at Ruby. “My feelings weren’t hurt at all. Okay Ruby?”

“Are you sure?” the filly asked, a sad look on her face.

“Absolutely, and it’s wonderful to meet you, Miss Ruby. And this is your mommy?” She glanced up at the filly’s mother.

Ruby jumped to her hooves, instantly brightening up. “Yeah! Miss Marigold, this is my mommy.”

The mother chuckled at the filly. “That’s right,” she said, then looked to Spindle. “My name’s Bright Resin and this here is Ruby Sunrise.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Spindle returned her smile, “and your filly is very kind and thoughtful.”

“Thank you.” Bright Resin wrapped a hoof around her daughter and planted a kiss on her head. “I’m always ever so proud of my little Sunrise.”

“Mooom!” Ruby protested and struggled, falling out of her mother’s grip.

Spindle appreciated the kindness that flowed from both of them. It was refreshing, though it would do little in the end.

“Say,” Bright Resin spoke up, “Ruby and I were about to head home for some lunch and you look like you could use a nice meal. Would you like to join us?”

It was true, she hadn’t eaten anything since the night before, but there didn’t seem to be much point. “No, that’s okay, I was about to leave soon anyway.”

“Please, I insist. I would love to have you over for lunch.”

Spindle merely looked at her for a moment. The concern still trickling from the mare said she wasn’t suspicious. Plus, there’s no way a mother like her would do anything to put her daughter in danger.

“Alright, sure,” Spindle acquiesced.

“Perfect!” Bright Resin sat back and clapped her hooves. She then turned to her daughter “Sweetie, we’re going to have Miss Marigold over for lunch. Would you like to go have lunch now?”

“Yeah! I’m hungry!” Ruby said, bouncing up and down.

“Well, that settles it.” Bright Resin smiled back at Spindle. “Are you ready to go?”

“Hm.” Their bits of concern and kindness had given her a little energy back. She wasn’t sure how long it would last her, but she felt like a walk wouldn’t be too much trouble. “Yes, I think I’m good.”

Leaning forward, Spindle put her forelegs on the ground and pushed off with her hinds. She wobbled only a little before she found her balance. Smiling, she looked over at the mother. “Ready to go, Miss Resin.”

She batted a hoof at Spindle. “Oh, please. I’m not that old. Call me Bright.”

“Sure, Miss Bright.”

“Just Bright.” She gave Spindle a look before softening. “Now then, let’s go. Our house is only a couple of blocks away.”

Spindle followed as Bright turned and walked down the hill. The gaping hole in her chest seemed to be satisfied for the moment. It was by no means gone and it still seemed larger and emptier than she’d ever felt it before, but the claw was no longer rending her heart apart.

“So, tell me, Miss Marigold,” Bright spoke up, the three reaching the park’s main path, “what brings you to the farming commune of Cincinneighti? We don’t get a lot of visitors out here.”

“Honestly, I was just passing through,” Spindle began, glancing at the flower she’d greeted on the way in. “I’d stopped at Cincinneighti for a few nights before deciding it wasn’t for me.”

“I see.” She slowed down and took stride at Spindle’s side. They watched Ruby run through the park’s grass ahead of them. “Don’t run off too far, Ruby!”

“Okay, Mommy!” She called back.

“You know,” Bright said, glancing at Spindle, “There’s not much beyond here except farmland and grassy hills. You won’t find much but little communities before you hit the mountains to Manehatten.”

“I, uh,” Spindle wasn’t planning on having to defend herself on this little trek, “I wanted to see some of nature before I left.”

“Ah. And where were you heading to next?”

“I’m… not really sure. I hadn’t figured that out yet.” She hoped that would be enough for Bright. Her mind wasn’t in the best place and she didn’t have the energy to come up with a story.

“Right. Well, wherever you go, I’m sure you’ll do well.”

“Yeah, me too.”

Silence filled the space between them and they turned onto the main road’s sidewalk. Bright called Ruby over to join them, but it only registered in passing.

There wasn’t really anywhere to go. No place came to mind where she would be safe, certainly not one she could make it to. With no bits and no love, there were few options. None of them ended happily.

“Miss Marigold?” Ruby asked, breaking Spindle from her thoughts.

“Yes, Ruby?” She looked to the filly between her and the filly’s mother.

“Why is your fur so dirty?”

“Ruby,” Bright Resin gently admonished, “Do you remember when we talked about being sensitive to other ponies?”

“Yes…” Ruby shrunk into herself, looking at her mother morosely.

“That wasn’t a very sensitive thing to say.”

“Oh,” Ruby said simply, the word hanging between them.

“Ruby…” her mother trailed off.

“Oh, uh,” the filly looked back at Spindle. “I’m sorry, Miss Marigold.”

“It’s okay.” Spindle offered her a smile.

“Thank you, sweetheart.” Bright smiled down at Ruby as well. “You did a good job.”

Silence reigned for only a few more seconds. “Mommy? What are we having for lunch?”

“Hmm, do you have any preferences, Marigold?”

“Not really,” Spindle replied. “Anything is fine.”

“Alright. How about some nice Daffodil sandwiches? I think I have some leftover bean soup, too. Does that sound good?”

“Yeah! Mommy’s bean soup is the best!” Ruby beamed up at Spindle.

“I bet it is.”

“And what do you know, this is us!” Bright held a hoof down a walkway leading to a small home.

It was a little old, but by no means uncared for. “It’s a lovely home, Bright.”

“Thank you,” she said, leading them along the stone walkway between two long beds of flowers. “A lot of work has gone into this home and I’m very proud of what we’ve managed to do with it.”

Bright Resin reached the front door and opened it, entering and holding it. Ruby excitedly ran through and Spindle followed after. 

Inside was well decorated and Spindle admired the very cozy, open living room. A couch and a loveseat sat next to a pretty fireplace on the far wall while toys laid scattered between them. A wide window with beautiful drapes sat on the front wall and two large pictures hung opposite of it.

“This way to the kitchen,” Bright called, heading straight down the hallway beyond the front door.

Spindle followed and peered at the pictures in the hall. Many had both Bright and Ruby in them, but a couple had Bright with a stallion as well. A husband, perhaps? Could I maybe replace one of them? I know nothing about them, but if I could fool them for even a few days, it might be enough for me to move on.

“Alright! Feel free to have a seat. Daffodil sandwiches and soup coming right up!” Bright said brightly.

Spindle walked to the left side of the eat-in kitchen and sat down on the far side of the table, next to the back door. 

“Hey! That’s where mommy always sits.”

“It’s okay, she can sit there,” Bright interjected, then turned to her daughter. “Ruby, sweetie?”

Ruby paused her climb into the seat next to Spindle and looked back at her mother. “Yeah?”

“Do you think you could go play in your room for a little bit?”

“Why?” Ruby asked, turning around and tilting her head at her mother.

“I’d like to have a little grown up talk with Miss Marigold. I’ll call you when lunch is ready, okay?”

Ruby gave a little disappointed groan. “Okay.” She turned and headed for the hallway.

“Please close your door too, sweetie!”

“Okay!” A few seconds later came the sound of a door shutting.

Bright Resin turned to Spindle, giving her an appraising look. “You know, Ruby’s not the only one who noticed. I’m sorry for saying it, but you really do look like a mess.”

Spindle had no idea what to even say to that. “Yeah. I know,” she sighed. If she couldn’t even think up a halfway decent story about how her fur got the way it was, what hope did she have in replacing Bright?

“You don’t have any friends nearby, do you? I doubt you’d be here if you did.”

Marigold looked down at the table and shook her head. “No. I, um, I lost my job in another city and the relationship with my coltfriend was already in a bad way. We broke up soon after. Eventually I left and came here to Cincinneighti, but I’d already lost everything.”

She looked up as Bright Resin came towards her and smiled, the mare putting a hoof on her shoulder.

Looking back at the table, Marigold continued. “I lost my saddlebags a few days ago, along with the last few bits I had.” She chuckled and tears began filling her eyes. “Couldn’t pay, so I got kicked out of my motel, too. I didn’t know what to do or where to go, so I just… went.”

Spindle didn’t know why she was telling her all this. It was almost exactly what happened, minus a few small details. Lies mixed with truth were good, but too much truth led to bad things.

“I know what that’s like, to be at the bottom,” Bright said.

Spindle’s eyes were drawn back up to the other mare.

Bright continued. “I was there once, several years ago. Back then, before it all happened, I was a bit of a floozy. All I wanted was to have fun and party. Dance clubs and bars were my kind of place and I’d be there every night. Not long after, I ran out of money, so I took out a loan, figuring I could cut back on the partying and pay it back with my meager waitress wages.

“Well, a month later and I need another loan. Soon after, the restaurant got tired of my terrible work ethic and booted me. Of course, my coltfriend at the time got upset and I broke up with him after a fight. I hadn’t really thought it through, so when it dawned on me that it was his place, I bawled and tried to get him to take me back, but the damage was done and out I went.”

Bright looked into Spindle’s eyes and smiled sadly. “I had nothing, but even worse, I found out I was pregnant a couple weeks later. I knew it was dangerous to do it during estrus, but all I could think about was fun, fun, fun.”

She snorted. “Life became a lot less fun after that and I wandered the streets of Cincinneighti for a few months until one day, some stranger told me they could help. It wasn’t about just me anymore, so I grabbed onto that rope with all I had and with the help of a group of ponies, I clawed my way out.

“It wasn’t easy, starting over. In fact, it was downright grueling,” she put a hoof on Spindle’s, “but it is possible. Marigold, I’d like to offer you that same chance. I know ponies that can help. You don’t have to do this alone.”

Spindle’s eyes darted back and forth between both of Bright Resin’s, searching for some hidden truth. 

But she found none. She looked away, back down to her hooves in her lap.

The sheer exhaustion from earlier was starting to return. It didn’t matter how many ponies there were to help. Even if there was a pony out there, willing to give the love she so desperately needed, it would come far too late.

She was… she was going to… but she didn’t want to. She wanted to live!

A choked sob broke out of her throat. It didn’t matter! None of it mattered! She cursed the stupid, worthless tears running down her cheek.

“Oh, sweetie.”

Bright wrapped Spindle in a tight hug and the dam broke. Strained wimpers grew into a bawl and she couldn’t hold it back.

“Oh, honey.” Bright Resin held her, rocking Spindle’s shaking body back and forth. “It’ll be okay. Shh, it’ll be okay.”

Through the haze of her emotions, she felt it.

That deep pool of compassion and kindness. It opened itself to her and Spindle drank. She drank and drank and it wasn’t enough. Her cries died down and her mind went blank except for one word.

More.

Dimly, she felt a tight squeeze and then nothing. Unknown words came from something at her side. Her body slowly turned and there, in front of her, was a creature, the source of her nectar. 

Abruptly, the nectar disappeared.

She did not appreciate that.

“More,” a voice said.

The creature in front of her uttered some noises and took a step back. The pool was back and she drew deeply from it. Her face twisted and she spat at the vile taste.

“No! Give me more!”

A green flash filled her vision and the creature took more steps back. Unacceptable. She drew closer to it and it turned.

She pounced.

It was on its back and she was standing over it. It was thrashing and yelling, but she did not care. She darted forward and seized the thing’s neck in her fangs.

A moment later, it grew still.

She drew back from the thing and her instincts took over. Her mouth opened, her horn glowed, and she found the creature’s heart, its emotions and feelings.

And she tore.

The thing gurgled, rich sweetness flooding from it, and she drank once more. She drank and drank from its fountain. Moments passed and the flow slowed to a trickle.

So she tore again.

More came, but it was a pitiful amount.

She tore again and—

A piercing shriek filled the room.

Thoroughly annoyed, she stepped off the unmoving thing and turned. Another, smaller creature was facing her, a few strides away. 

Another creature.

Another.

Fresh.

“More…”

She pounced.

In an instant, the other creature was beneath her, pinned to the floor. It cried and struggled, but it was fruitless. She looked down, green fluid dripping from her fangs onto the thing’s tear ridden face.

It pleased her.

To see those eyes filled with fear. She wanted to savor it. For how much they hurt her. She hissed at it and licked at its neck, enjoying it as the thing pointlessly tried even harder to curl up.

Then they opened again. Those terrified eyes. Those terrified, baby blue eyes. It gave her such great pleasure to see those blue eyes… baby blue.

Beautiful baby blue eyes.

Spindle gasped and jumped off the filly.

The poor girl scampered away into the far corner, sobbing and rubbing her forelegs.

What… What did I do?

“Ruby, I…” She took a step forward.

She stopped dead when the cries turned into shrieks and the filly kicked at the floor, pushing herself harder into the wall.

Spindle backed away and hit something soft. She looked behind her and gaped. The body of Bright Resin lay there. The body she just drained.

“I didn’t… I didn’t mean to,” she blubbered, staring at the motionless body. “I didn’t. I-I couldn’t have…”

The sound of hooves on tile drew her attention. She turned, watching as Ruby jumped at the back door, fiddling with the doorknob.

Spindle reached out a hoof in her direction. “Ruby, please, wait. I’m sorry, I didn’t—”

The filly did not wait and a second later, the lock clicked, the door burst open, and the filly fled.

She stared and slowly lowered her hoof. Her brain would not work, couldn’t comprehend what happened. One second she was bawling, the next… she was tearing love from Bright.

Then she’d been interrupted by the mare’s daughter. In return she nearly…

Her eyes squeezed shut, trying not to think about what would have happened to little Ruby. Foals’ minds weren’t as strong as a grown pony’s. They couldn’t handle it. When they had their love drained, they almost always died. Training had hammered it into them over and over.

No foals. Never. Their goal was to gather love, not kill. Changelings weren’t monsters.

Except I just became one.

Spindle fiercely shook her head. “No! I didn’t! I stopped and she got away. She’s fine. She… got away.”

It suddenly dawned on her. The filly got away.

She gasped. The filly got away! I have to get out of here!

“I’m sorry,” she said one last time to the unmoving mare and shot down the hallway, transforming back into Marigold. Spindle pulled open the front door and quickly looked back and forth. No sign of anypony. She ran out the door and took to the skies, flying back the way she came.

I need a new disguise! If Ruby found somepony and they see me, I’m done!

Spotting the park, she saw near the back side of it was a bunch of closely packed trees and she flew straight for it. From overhead, she saw a clearing in the middle.

She dropped directly into the clearing and landed hard on the ground. A pair of screams from behind shocked her and she flipped around.

A couple of foals stared at her, wide eyed.

“S-Sorry. I gotta, I… sorry!” Spindle turned and ran deeper into the trees. A few moments later, she reached the other end of the grove. Skidding to a stop, she looked around and behind her.

No pony in sight.

“Okay, Spindle. Think. New disguise. Right now!” She screwed her eyes shut, but nothing came to her. The stress flooded her and her mind shut down. The color wheel contained nothing. “Come on! Anything!”

Anything. Anything, even…

Green flames flowed over her again and out came Bobby Pin, once more. She flapped the wings on her back and touched her bare forehead. Good. A Pegasus. Okay, I need to go somewhere. Where do I go?

Tears of frustration filled her eyes and she stomped her hoof. I don’t know! I can’t stay here. I can’t go back to Hoofington. I can’t go anywhere! I want to go home!

She sniffled. I just want to go home.

Home.

Back to the hive. It was possible… but how could she? A collector that ran home? It would be like she was abandoning her duty, her purpose. Every collector was important, every one necessary. To turn her back on it…

But what else could she do? There were no resources. Nothing from the hive. Starting over in a new place simply wasn’t possible. Not without help.

Home. She couldn’t see another option.

So she took to the skies and went home.





Moonlit desert sand crunched under her paws. For hours, she’d been walking. First from the Dodge City train stop to the edge of the badlands. Then from the edge to the heart.

The hive was well hidden, deep in the badlands. Every changeling that left had to know how to get back, what to look for. Every one of them, no matter their caste. Before they were allowed to begin their role outside, they had it hammered into their head.

It was hammered so hard that even Spindle couldn’t forget how to find it.

And she was almost there.

She wanted to pick up speed, get her nearly three day journey over with, but she calmly walked on. The distance was made even greater by her coyote body. Coyotes weren’t but around three quarters the size of an average pony, but it was enough to make the trip noticeably longer.

Just ahead, she saw a familiar trio of rocks that marked one of the hive’s entrances.

Her canine body jumped in surprise as a shrill caw sounded directly above her. She looked up and saw a large, black raven swoop down, landing in front of her. It tilted its head and inspected her for a few moments. Spindle’s nose twitched at the pheromones filling the air and was glad she’d remembered to keep her glands in place.

“What caste are you with?” it suddenly spoke.

“I’m a collector,” Spindle said.

“Were you with the invasion army?”

She shook her head. “No. I was assigned to Hoofington, but was forced to run from the town.”

“Very well. Proceed to the throne room to see the queen.”

“W-what, the queen? But, why?”

“She requested any arriving changeling that was made to abandon their role see her as soon as possible.”

“Alright. Do you know why?”

“No. Please proceed to see her.” The patrolling changeling spread its small, raven wings and flew away.

With a deep breath she walked forward, entering the hive. A few meters in, she passed the guard coves, nodding stiffly to the disguised desert fox guards. Turning the first corner, she dropped her disguise.

Spindle fought to keep her panic under control. Never before had she met with the queen directly. Though she’d heard stories about changelings that made big enough mistakes. None of them were pleasant.

She probably wants to know why I abandoned my source and once she finds out what I did… She shuddered at the thought of what punishment she’d receive.

Through dimly lit, winding tunnels passing by and numerous fellow changelings rushing about, she arrived at the throne room’s outer hall. Two guards stood on either side of the door, covered in polished, blue armor.

She took a deep breath, and mentally steeled herself, trying to push nervousness away as best as she could. It wouldn’t do to stutter in front of the queen. Letting out the breath, she walked forward.

And their eyes snapped to her.

“What are you here for?” the guard nearest her asked.

“I’m a collector. I was told by a patrol outside that I needed to see her majesty upon arrival.”

“You were not at the wedding?”

“No, I wasn’t.”

“Please wait here.” He turned to the door. Knocking once, he opened it and entered, closing it behind him.

The minutes ticked by and the nervousness she’d bottled away oozed back out. She tried to keep her breaths steady and do the deep breathing trick they taught her in training. Keep it together. Queen Chrysalis is wise and just. Whatever she sees fit is what you deserve.

Finally, the door opened again and the guard stepped out, followed by a changeling without armor. The second changeling walked past Spindle without a word and the guard held the door open. “She will see you now.”

Spindle mentally cursed. In the back of her mind, she’d been hoping that maybe it was too late and she’d have to wait until the next day. She was dirty and tired and she cursed herself for not having cleaned up before seeing her.

She steeled herself again with another deep breath and walked forward through the open door. Inside it was brightly lit, several torches hung on the columns along either side of the room. A long, intricate pathway was cut in the stone, leading directly to the throne. On either side was a set of two guards and on the throne itself was Queen Chrysalis.

Desperately, Spindle ran through her neglected royal etiquette she’d never used. Until now.

Walk forward, approach the first step, bow, wait to be addressed. Walk forward, approach the first step, bow, wait to be addressed. Walk forward…

And suddenly she was at the first step. She bowed deeply, making sure not to look up until the queen said otherwise. Seconds passed and she grew nervous. Did I do something wrong?

“Rise,” Queen Chrysalis said, with much less force than Spindle had expected.

Her eyes rose with her body and she nearly gasped at the sight of her queen. Hardened, green opaque resin covered a portion of her foreleg and along her side, betraying the cracks in her carapace.

“What is your name, young one?”

“M-my name is Spindle, y-your majesty.” You idiot! I said no stuttering!

“Spindle,” the queen said slowly as if tasting the name. “One of the hive’s few collectors. Tell me, what happened that you would be standing here instead of with your fellow collectors?”

“Y-your majesty,” she swallowed, trying to get her nerves about her, “I was a Cincinnei—I mean, a Hoofington collector and I was forced from my role. M-my source discovered me because of my own stupidity a-and I ran. I didn’t know where to—”

“Spindle.”

Her queen’s voice rang out in the room and Spindle’s jaw immediately shut. She couldn’t keep the shiver out of her body, watching Chrysalis breathe deep and close her eyes for a short moment. Not a single emotion escaped from the monarch.

“Spindle,” her queen said softer, opening her eyes. “I am not here to pass judgement upon you. Right now, every single changeling is a precious resource. Hundreds of your brothers and sisters are still lost and unaccounted for. There are many things that I must be concerned with right now, and I need to know if the Hoofington changelings should be added to that ever growing list. Are they?”

“N-no, your majesty. I don’t believe so.”

“Spindle. Continually addressing me as such will get very tiring. Ma’am or simply answering will suffice after the first time. But, very well. Please answer my question. Why are you not with your fellow collectors?”

“I… had to run, your—m-ma’am. I was discovered and I left for a new town, like we were trained.”

“Perhaps I am missing something, then. When were you discovered?”

“The day after the wedding.”

“Ah. There it is.” Queen Chrysalis looked down upon her with… pity? “You must have been most unfortunate indeed to have been discovered so early. It makes me wonder if…” she sighed. “In any case, had you been there for one or two days longer, you would have received a letter sent in my stead. The letter would have instructed you to seek the help of your local collector community instead of pursuing a new city.

“For the time being, the hive has no resources to assist in relocating collectors. This includes sending new collectors out, or in your case, sending you back to Hoofington.”

Spindle bowed her head. “Yes, my queen. I understand.”

“I do not have time to listen to your entire story, but I would like to know if there were any significant impacts to the hive or yourself.”

“Y-yes, ma’am, there was.” Spindle nodded. “In order to escape in Cincinneighti, I was forced to change and was witnessed by both the stallion I was grooming to be my source as well as the motel manager.”

“Unless they were able to tie you to any other changelings or their locations, that is not a significant impact.”

“O-oh. I don’t think they were able to. I apologize, my queen.”

“Was there anything else?”

“Yes,” Spindle said. “There was one more thing. After I escaped in Cincinneighti, I had very little love magic left and I was forced to drain a pony. I… I don’t know if I killed her.”

Queen Chrysalis pursed her lips, humming at looking at Spindle for a long moment. “You don’t know? How faint was her love when you stopped drawing from it?”

“I, um, I don’t know.”

“Spindle,” Queen Chrysalis growled. “Are you saying that we sent an improperly trained collector into Equestria or were you simply not paying attention?!”

“N-no!” Spindle frantically sputtered. “I was trained! I know how to drain a pony! I… I don’t know what happened. One minute she was hugging and consoling me and the next I was standing over her, ripping her love out.”

Her queen sighed once again. “You went into a frenzy, then.”

“A… a frenzy, ma’am?” Spindle asked, trying to calm her hammering heart.

“How little love did you have left? Can you estimate for me?”

“I don’t think I had any left, your majesty.” Spindle looked down, unwilling to meet her queen’s eyes. “I’d passed out and when I woke up, it was so painful. I’d never felt anything like it.”

“My child,” Chrysalis said, the softness in her voice drawing Spindle’s eyes back to hers. “You weren’t at nothing, though you were very close. The pain you went through is something I would do anything to prevent my children from ever experiencing. Had you waited much longer before feeding, you would have begun to feel numb and then be led into a deep sleep you’d never awaken from.”

“I-I did, kind of. The pain went away and I couldn’t even cry anymore. I was so tired and I just wanted to sleep. I found a place and I did nearly fall asleep. But then that mare and her filly came up to me.”

Spindle watched as Queen Chrysalis closed her eyes and sat there, her body still. Seconds passed and she grew nervous. Did I say something wrong? Or was it something I did?’

Finally, her queen’s eyes opened and she looked sadly upon Spindle. “I am deeply sorry for what you went through, my child. You were truly at death’s door and I am grateful that you’ve returned to me. Do you know the name of the mare that you drained or her filly?”

Spindled nodded. “I do, ma’am. Her name was Bright Resin and her filly’s name was Ruby Sunrise. They live in a house near a park in Cincinneighti’s farming community.”

“Good. Thank you. I cannot offer any solace to whether you did end her life, but I do not hold you accountable for what occurred there. However, I will send a message to the Cincinneighti infiltrators to look into the situation. If you did kill her, we will need to track any investigations that follow.”

“R-right. Thank you very much, ma’am.” Spindle bowed her head deeply and relief flooded her at the pardon. That relief was quickly doused when she remembered what happened after. “But, your majesty, something else happened when I was in my frenzy.”

Queen Chrysalis simply raised an eyeridge. “Hmm?”

Spindle closed her eyes and swallowed. The shiver returned before she could contain it. She opened her eyes and looked directly into her queen’s, ready for what may come. “Ruby, Bright Resin’s filly, she interrupted me as I was draining her mother. In my frenzy, I was so angry and hungry and I pinned her down. She struggled and was so scared. I remember reveling in it. After I’d purposefully terrified her, I… I almost fed on her.”

The queen’s eyeridge lowered. “You almost fed on her.”

“Yes.” Spindle nodded again.

“But you didn’t.”

“No, ma’am.” Spindle shook her head, but quickly added, “But if I hadn’t been broken from the frenzy, I would have killed her!”

“But you didn’t,” Queen Chrysalis repeated.

“Well… no.” She searched her at her queen’s eyes, trying to decipher her meaning. In her frenzy, Spindle nearly broke one of the biggest rules of being a collector, yet the monarch in front of her didn’t care?

“Then I have no concern for this matter. If you had told me the filly followed you to another collector’s residence or overheard something vital regarding our operations, then it would be a different situation. Were there any other matters you needed to address?”

Spindle merely looked at her. She didn’t understand, it was a horrendous thing for her to have committed, even if she’d been interrupted. “But, I almost—”

“Do you seek to continue wasting my time?” Chrysalis boomed, making Spindle flinch back and feel ever more insignificant. “Just what are you looking for? Condemnation? I have far more grievous atrocities to deal with than one which carried no more consequence than mentally scarring a young filly! Now, if there was nothing else you had… had to re… port…”

Her queen trailed off and she shut her eyes tight, her uninjured forehoof barely rising from the ground. A nigh inaudible grunt only just gracing Spindle’s ears.

“My queen,” a guard at her side stepped forward, “are you alright? Should I fetch a nurse again?”

Queen Chrysalis’s eyes snapped open and she turned to him with a scowl, giving a harsh wave of her good leg. “I’m fine,” she huffed and turned her gaze back to Spindle and breathed deep, her glower melting to a sad frown. “Spindle, if it’s damnation you’re seeking, you’ll find none here and now. Had it been different and you’d intentionally attempted to drain that filly, you would be facing far more than my anger.

“We all make mistakes, Spindle. This is one I will not see you disciplined for.”

It didn’t feel right. She was going too easy on her and she deserved more, but grace was all she’d deigned to give her. Spindle bowed her head. “I… okay. Thank you, ma’am. I have nothing else to say.”

“Then I have need of your help, Spindle,” Queen Chrysalis said, her tone somber. “I cannot afford to have you sent out as a collector, but I have a more important task that I need to be done.”

“Y-your majesty!” Spindle nearly gaped in shock at her not-command. “Of course, anything you ask and I will do my best!”

Her queen nodded and gave her a small smile. “Thank you. Perhaps in time…” she paused for a short moment, but merely shook her head. “Right now, there may be dozens of injured changelings that were flung across Equestria. Many may soon be at the door you knocked upon. Some have already passed through it. To prevent any more needless death of my children, I have ordered search and rescue teams be assembled. Every hoof counts and I need you to assist them.”

“I will at once, my queen.” She bowed deeply.

“You may rise. General Elytra is organizing search efforts in the military halls. Please go see her.”

Spindle rose and began turning, but paused. Facing the throne, she bowed her head. “Thank you again, your majesty. For everything.”

An emotionless expression and a small nod was all she received in response.

Turning again, Spindle walked to the throne room’s door. She opened it and exited, hearing the stone door shut behind her. Nodding to the guards, she continued down the passageway and turned the corner.

The breath she was holding escaped her lips and she leaned against the wall, reeling from the experience. The queen was… nothing like she’d heard. Spindle had expected stern reprimands and harsh commands, and she certainly got some, but by the end she’d received a solemn apology and what amounted to a request.

She didn’t understand. Maybe… she’s tired and her wounds from the wedding were clouding her mind. She snapped at me a few times, but she was almost… nice.

It didn’t make any sense and she was more than a little afraid to ask anyling about it.

Spindle pushed off the wall and nodded to herself. Her queen gave her a request and she fully intended to see it through.