//------------------------------// // Ch. 7: Is Not, and Maybe Never Was // Story: The Rocks And Water // by KingReptarAlmighty //------------------------------// The changeling struggled to rise from the ground, still twitching. Pieces of broken wood littered the floor around him, pieces of the table he’d broken jumping through the window. Thorax had backed into the wall, eyes focused in caution. The changeling was jittery and erratic in it’s movements, spitting up a mouthful of some mysterious green goo that bubbled and burned as it made contact with the tile floor. Its pale green eyes were squinted, and it grit its teeth as it rose, clearly in pain.  “Uh, Thorax, is this normal?” “Not even close!” Spike gulped, and the changeling twitched violently, nearly falling back to the ground from the force. Thorax swallowed, and took a step forward. “What’s your name?” “Long gone.” It spoke clearly despite what looked like a mouthful of goo and the- Thorax swallowed back bile as he realized in time with Spike, that the changeling’s tongue was disintegrating in its mouth. “I-I’m sorry. The waves c-ca-ca-called to me. I had to. Do not… do not... hate me.” One more violent twitch, and with a shake of his wings, the Changeling jumped at Thorax, expelling the full contents of his acid filled stomach at the changeling King. Thorax made to cover his eyes, and Spike flinched as the static in his head reached its peak. The world around him burned to ashes like a torched newspaper, and he saw the background. An eternal cacophony of shifting squares of color, all mixing into meaningless greys and whites.  He blinked once. Then twice.  And the world began knitting itself back together. Cadance barely reacted as the world around her disintegrated and fixed itself, entering the sort of tunnel vision akin to that a parent would get when their child was in danger. And, given the length of time that Thorax had lived with them, and the amount of time that she’d spent babysitting Spike over the years, wasn’t exactly incorrect. She dashed through the window with all the grace of an expert flyer, landing ready to cast whatever spell she might need to defend the two. The sight she was greeted with caused her to recoil in a broad mixture of fear and confusion.  Spike looked like his hands had been bleached up to his elbows, and his typically soft, rounded spines had become wickedly pointy, and rather than one single ridge along his back, they had split into three separate dorsal ridges. Outside of being a generally unexpected transformation, it was made even worse by the air around him becoming something best described only as, well, aggressive. Her ears were assaulted by a violent sound akin to thousands of overlapping, consecutive static shocks.  The worst part is that it was only heard when she looked directly at him.  He looked up at her, and she averted her eyes, feeling every bit of her magical instinct screaming at her to not look him in the eye. Something would go horrifically wrong if she did, she knew it, and either it was the static whispers now worming their way into her ears the longer he stared at her How could she even tell he was staring she wasn’t even looking at him, or the affirmations of a wary Discord who instructed Thorax to do the same, she felt at least somewhat validated in being slightly wary, despite how horrible it made her feel.  “Alright, Spike, now I need you to-” “Discord, what-what’s happening to me?” “Stay calm, please. I don’t know how to describe this. Cadance, Spike is a visual learner, correct?” “He has a near eidetic memory, yeah.” “Okay, well, I ask you to avert your eyes, completely. Close them and ignore the whispers, please!” Cadance spared a quick glance at Thorax, who’d practically buried his head into the ground like a flamingo. Not a bad strategy. She mimicked him, planting her chin on the ground and wrapping her hooves over her eyes and ears.  If only it was completely effective. The pressure in the room increased, and while covering her eyes did the job, her ears were filled with maniacal laughter, and whispers of everything horrible she could think of. She grit her teeth as tears tried to force their way through her closed eyelids, when suddenly most of the pressure in the room disappeared.  Then the rest disappeared. Discord’s lion paw reached down and pulled her arm off of her ears.  “You can open your eyes now.” His tone was soft, and less jovial than she’d ever heard him. Cadance’s initial instinct was to resist, but as of the past twenty minutes, Discord has become more trustworthy than he’d been since she’d known him, and the more rational part of her brain felt obligated to at least trust him to see this through. She reluctantly opened her eyes, and was greeted with a regular, very perturbed Spike. He had his arms wrapped around himself, and though he wasn’t crying, his eyes were wet with unshed tears, and despite any remaining apprehensions or fears, he was quick to pull him into the tightest hug she could muster. In the background, Discord made some sound of approval, but she didn’t think much of it.  “I’m sorry.” Cadance ignored the apology, and just pulled him in tighter. Eventually, Discord did interrupt, tapping on her shoulder. She looked up at him, and realized that he was holding something. A very translucent changeling egg.  “We have a lot to discuss.” “So, you were telling the truth.” Cadance stared at Discord from across the table. The two of them were alone at the moment, Spike and Thorax having gone up to their room and Shining Armor having long since gone to sleep. Discord looked… is there a stronger word than exhausted? He looked so tired that given he stayed awake any longer he might’ve collapsed, and yet he was awake now, sipping away at a mugful of chocolate milk so as to answer Cadance’s questions. “What is Spike, exactly?” “...All I can tell you is that he is not a dragon. It’s possible he never was one.” Discord sighed, and took another sip of his chocolate milk. “He’s… something. I’m mostly sure that he exists outside of our technical time and space, and created himself a mortal form because he got bored of watching. I did too, at one point.” “So you’re like him?” Discord barked a laugh, with absolutely no humor. “If I was like him, there would be no elements in the world strong enough to keep me in stone.”  Cadance’s mug shattered, and with a snap of Discord’s fingers, it reformed, liquid inside.  “You might want to hold off on levitating things. You’re tense, and no one wants you breaking things every couple of steps. In any case, technically, Spike and I underwent the same experience. Extraplanars who built a mortal form to see things from the inside. He did it differently though. It’s like he built himself specifically to have no recollection of his powers, abilities, and skills. I wouldn’t be surprised if he wanted himself to be nothing more than Spike and simply allow his power to fade away.” “And it didn’t work.” It wasn’t a question. Just a clear simple statement.  “No. No it did not.”