The centaur ran for his life.
He had the advantage of darkness, granted, his hooded cloak would make him look like a pony from afar, and the rain falling through the backwater pony town he’d holed himself up in would surely help mask his scent, but still he felt his pursuer gaining on him. He stopped and caught his breath against the corner of an alley. His breath was ragged, his stomach churned. He reached into his cloak for a jar and messily scooped up some of its rainbow-coloured contents.
“Curse this Zap Apple Jam, it’s so weak I can hardly taste any magic,” he muttered under his breath as he desperately gulped up more of the stuff.
“Oh, it’s not that weak...”
Chills ran down his spine when he heard the voice. She was everywhere.
With a sigh, he straightened up and let his hood down. His arms quaked, his hooves pawed nervously at the ground. Backed against a wall, he called out to her. “Show yourself, Chrysalis. I will not let you hunt me any further.”
“Oh, Tirek, Tirek, Tirek…” the changeling Queen said with a chuckle, still hiding in the shadows. “You don’t get to tell me what to do any longer.”
“What? But I never…”
“Tirek,” Chrysalis interrupted. “Don’t tell me you didn’t know? You never realised? After all these years? Don’t you remember those good old days up North? How is Scorpan these days, incidentally? I haven’t heard of him in ages.”
“N-no.” There was a smell in the air, then a burning in his lungs. Realisation dawned on him, and the true danger he was in made him forget his weak state, if only for a moment. His body tensed, his fists flared up with magic, ready to blast at the first sight of trouble.
I’ll only get one shot. I need to make it count.
“What are you hoping to do?” the Queen in the shadows asked. “You’re so weak you can’t even drain a Unicorn of their magic. You can’t fight me. You should have stayed in Tartarus, Tirek. You must be so hungry, so famished, can you even think of anything besides that delicious magic you could steal?”
He gulped. His stomach growled, his tail twitched, his whole body cried out for more magic to consume. That burning in his lungs increased. She was getting closer. “I know what you’re trying to do. It won’t work. You can’t steal my power to steal, Chrysalis. I’m no mere swamp demon preying on children. It takes skill, finesse, to do what I do. I can show you, if you like. We can come to an arrangement, you and I. We are both, after all, predators to these weak little ponies.”
Finally, she showed herself, strolling casually towards him from the front, without any disguise. “Tempting offer, but no.”
Tirek braced himself for the attack. “Don’t do anything foolish now, Chrysalis. You need me. You need me ali-”
The sudden stabbing pain in the back of his neck stopped him. Pressure built up at the front of his neck, the sides, then his head was yanked against the wall and his breath was cut off by a black holed forelimb. She’d used one of those holes in her legs as a noose, sneaking up from behind.
The Queen in front of him disappeared, leaving a drone staring mindlessly ahead in its place.
A decoy. Of course.
Tirek felt his heart pounding. The real Chrysalis held his throat tightly, and as much as he tried to claw at her or blast her away, nothing made her so much as flinch.
In a final desperate move, he tried to drain her, but the attempt was cut off as soon as he tried it.
“Tactical error, Tirek. You can’t drain someone if you cannot breathe. But that hunger for magic, that power? It’s so much easier to extract when it’s pure.”
He struggled feebly against her grip, as blackness crept up in his vision. Tirek tried to beg, to plea, to do anything, but Chrysalis held him tight and grinned, before opening her mouth and doing what he so desperately wanted: she took a deep breath in.
The hunger he’d felt for so long intensified a thousandfold, and he felt weakness overcome him as his magic was drained. Then, much to his surprise, he felt no hunger at all, or weakness. In fact, he felt quite at peace.
No more hunger, no more of those idle aches in his joints that came from millennia in prison. He didn’t even feel the choking grip on his throat anymore.
With a start, he realised he was looking at himself.
“You know, Tirek, it’s funny,” Chrysalis whispered in his body’s now cooling ear. “Only two weeks ago, you might have had a point about me needing you alive. But I’ve been expanding my roster, if you will.”
“T-the w-wurr...” he gurgled. He faded in and out of consciousness, his body trying to hold on to his spirit while it could.
Chrysalis snickered. “That’s right, I killed a water devil, isn’t that nice? I missed the one near Beargundy, though, someone beat me to the punch there.” She squeezed down, annoyed. “That can’t have been you, though. Was that you?”
Hoping he might buy some time, Tirek shook his head. Water devils were far beyond anything he could hope to battle in his weakened state, and besides that, why would he want to? Those fiends didn’t strictly feed off of magic, but rather the emotional energy of dying prey. They terrified and harrassed their victims, or weighed them down with breath-burning magic, until the water devil could steal their memories as their lives flashed before their eyes.
Tirek’s heart sank as his mind wandered, memories of old battles with the things suddenly fresh in his mind. To fight a water devil was to fight terror incarnate. If Chrysalis really had stolen the powers of one, he truly was done for. He closed his eyes in defeat, and he found himself standing next to Chrysalis again, looking at his own choking form.
“No matter. Whoever’s responsible for delaying me so much will pay eventually. Had to go all the way to Alherda to find another one.”
She sucked in another great gulp of air, and with it came the last remains of life within the centaur. He hardly noticed, already passed out from her chokehold.
Tirek’s spirit felt a hand on his shoulder. A warm, welcoming hand.
“Scorpan?” Tirek didn’t turn around, but his spectral eyes felt warm somehow, and a wetness stained his cheeks. Trying to wipe it away, he found nothing. “Scorpan, brother. I didn’t think you’d show.”
The hand squeezed in comfort. Still, Tirek didn’t turn to face its source, for he knew to do so would be his final act in this world. He still had something to say.
Chrysalis released the body and let it collapse under its own weight. “Thank you for your contribution, Tirek. I appreciate it. And I’ll make very good use of it.”
Tirek, freed from his hunger, his pain, and all other mortal concerns, called out to her with his last strength. “It won’t be enough, Chrysalis. It’ll never be enough. You don’t know what you have. You don’t even know what it is you truly want.”
Chrysalis stared straight into the spirit’s eyes.
“Oh, I know exactly what I want. And I know who's going to give it to me.” She licked her lips and snarled, shooing away the decoy drone. “I’ve been preparing my meal for a long time.”
Tirek shook his head, turned to join his brother, and passed on.
Bon Bon’s day had started like any other since she’d gotten custody of her little changeling son. Lyra was always second to be up, leaving plenty of time to set the table for breakfast and to read the newspaper. That day, though, Bon Bon had gotten stuck reading. Her ears flicked when she heard Lyra coming down the stairs, but she didn’t look up.
“Bonsie?” Lyra asked. “Is something wrong?”
Bon Bon trembled in a mix of rage and fear. “It’s the news.” She expected the Unicorn to make some joke about sports teams or whatnot, but instead Lyra slowly, quietly sat down next to her and wrapped an arm around her.
“What happened?”
Bon Bon took a moment to catch her breath. “It’s about Bastion. Here, look at this. They’re saying Ponyville isn’t safe, that we beat up our own child, that we...”
Lyra scanned the article quickly. “Witness accounts, official documents, but what are they… they what?” Lyra had a hoof up to her mouth while Bon Bon kept on reading.
“According to eyewitness accounts, Ponyville treats the changeling like an unwelcome exile, a mere toy for the young to play with,” Bon Bon said. “That’s ridiculous! Who in their right mind would say that? Bastion’s not a toy. Everyone likes him. Diamond Tiara likes him.”
“The adults of the town see no problem with young Bastion being subjected to verbal and physical abuse on a daily basis. As for Bastion himself, the one saving grace is that his...” Lyra gasped. “His mental faculties have atrophied to the point of nonexistence?”
“Someone wrote this. Someone told the newspapers this,” Bon Bon said with a growl. “The nerve of some ponies.”
The doorbell rang.
“We need to set this straight,” Lyra replied, going to the door, freezing halfway. “They can’t take him from us, can they?”
That thought had occurred to Bon Bon already, and she knew exactly how she’d answer. “They can try. I’ve still got my glazing gun for special orders, you can clear a trench with one of those. I’m not a good shot with it, though.” She thought for a moment, then shrugged. “Then again, with that thing, you can afford to miss by a little.”
“Okay, that’s a little excessive. We don’t have to burn anyone. Besides, if anyone’s gonna do it, it should be me: I don’t leave corpses. Or ashes.” Lyra opened the door.
Bon Bon looked past her and right on cue, there were Twilight Sparkle and Lydia Ladame, more commonly known in Canterlot as Leading Lady, or Mayor Mare, as she was known in Ponyville. Both of them had the same look on their face, the same emotions: concern, with a tinge of remorse.
“Hi, Lyra,” Twilight said. “I’m sure you’re read the news by now.”
Lyra nodded anxiously. “This is nothing, right? Nothing to worry about?”
Twilight sighed. “Actually, kind of. I wouldn’t worry, but we should still prepare. Can we come in?”
Lyra gestured to them both, welcoming them in even though Bon Bon had her face set to stunning glare.
“Prepare for what?” Bon Bon asked. “Did you have anything to do with this?”
“No,” Twilight replied. “We’ve been around town already, nopony we talked to knows where they got those stories. But according to the reporters, this is based on information out of the Griffon Kingdom. Except the griffons claim they got their information from Ponyville ponies.”
“It might have been those ponies at the market,” Lyra said. “You know how they get sometimes.”
Bon Bon ignored the remark. Guilt could be settled later. “Do we need to worry?”
“Yes and no. Obviously this is all fake to us, but some of the other nations aren’t so friendly about changelings living next to Equestria, or in it. The naga have taken these reports to question whether or not Bastion belongs here. They want an inquiry,” Mayor Mare said.
“What’s a naga?” Bon Bon asked.
“Snakes.”
All four mares turned to the source of the voice. Apparently the boy had heard.
He’d changed his appearance a little in the few months he’d lived in Ponyville. For one thing, he had put on some weight, making him look healthier. He still didn’t quite have the rounded belly of a pony, but that was one part of his insect-like anatomy that wasn’t going to change at all anytime soon. His green carapace still shone, he still had the spur-like growths near his hooftips, and he’d gotten a proper manecut, leaving him looking like a little gladiator with the way his webby mohawk stood out.
He looked better, Bon Bon reminded herself. Ponyville was obviously a good place for him. She swallowed her anger and smiled. “Bastion, sweetie, this isn’t as bad as it sounds. There’s no need to worry, right? How much did you hear?”
“I heard you say ‘naga.’ That’s bad. They’re snakes with arms,” Bastion replied, wincing. “We sent a lot of, umm, incursions their way, and we stole a lot of their secrets. They hate us.”
“That’s the bad news, yes,” Mayor Mare said. “The good news is: the naga don’t have a claim to Bastion’s custody rights. He doesn’t have any living relatives in their nation, and the pandas and zebras have been very vocal about naga trying to overstep their bounds, so the snakes won’t take action directly.”
“Then they can’t do anything, right? All we have to do is deny it, give them any evidence they need, let this whole thing blow over and we’re all clear,” Lyra said.
“It’s not that simple,” Mayor Mare explained. “The naga are trying to appeal to an older law, an international law involving… well, cult activity, let’s say, which would put Bastion out of pony jurisdiction.”
“Wait,” Bon Bon said. “Why would that kind of law even exist?”
“Don’t worry about that,” Twilight said. “The bottom line is: the law puts the responsibility on a living blood relative, and Bastion does have one of those.”
Bon Bon’s skin crawled. “Chrysalis? They’d rather have him go back to Chrysalis?”
“Chrysalis isn’t a blood relative,” Twilight said. “Changeling family structure is… complicated compared to ours, but the queen isn’t the mother by law. No, the problem’s a little closer to home.”
“Griffons.” Bastion groaned. “My mom’s still alive, but she’s a griffon now. They’re going to get the griffons to take me away?”
“Looks like that’s the plan,” Twilight replied. “Even though any memories she may have are planted, and no one even knows where she is or who she is at this point, as long as she’s not declared legally dead, the griffons have a claim to Bastion’s custody. The naga have pushed for them to exercise this claim, probably because they’re afraid of what he knows, or what he might do.”
“But they can’t do that. He’s innocent.” Bon Bon suppressed a hiss.
“No, I’m not,” he said. “I did get some training. Not a lot of combat, but strategy training. I was, umm, ripe, when we left. Chrysalis already asked me to think of things before my uncle died. I came up with an idea to bypass the naga’s defences right before my uncle...”
“Sweetie, I know you’re clever, but you’re only a child. They can’t pin that on you.”
“They’re certainly trying to. But King Alberic is still on your side in this, and so are most griffons,” Twilight said. “They can’t take you away just like that. You have rights.” She turned to Bon Bon and Lyra. “That goes for you, too. You’re his parents now, your rights can and will be enforced, if need be.”
“I’d rather not let it get that far, though. That’s why we’re here.” Mayor Mare smiled. “The griffons will be sending their inspectors in a few days. That gives us time to prepare our stories.”
“Bastion?!” A cry came from outside. “I just heard the news.”
“Right on time,” Twilight said. “Apple Bloom, would you mind taking Bastion outside? We need to discuss some grown-up things, without him there. The inspectors wouldn’t want us putting pressure on him.”
“Got it.” He trotted off, his wings buzzing nervously against his carapace. “I guess I’ll go get breakfast at Daisy’s?”
“Yeah, it’s probably best. We still need to go to the grocery store, anyway. You go and grab breakfast with Apple Bloom, we’ll discuss this over leftovers. Hope you like waffles, girls,” Bon Bon joked.
Twilight chuckled. “That’s hardly necessary, but thank you, waffles sounds great.”
“Okay. I’ll be back later!”
Bon Bon went over to give him a good squeeze of a hug, then patted his rump. “Go. Go eat.”
“Love you.” With that, he was out the door.
“He doesn’t seem too worried,” Lyra remarked.
Bon Bon hummed to herself as she went back to the table. “How much are you willing to bet he’s thinking of escape plans already?”
“Oh, I’ll waste my bits on a slot machine and get it over with, thanks. Now, what do you need Bonsie and me to do? Bonsie?”
Bon Bon furrowed her brow, thinking. “Hold on. Twilight, you just said we need time to prepare stories. What do you mean ‘we,’ exactly?”
Twilight turned her ears towards the door. Her horn glowed, and the other mares could have sworn they heard a sonic ping of sorts. When she was satisfied, Twilight elaborated. “That’s why I wanted Bastion out for now. It’s not just him the griffons will be focused on, according to King Alberic’s orders: it’s his environment. The inspectors will be asking Bastion, and everypony around him, and the relevant authorities. So they’ll be talking to me and my friends as the Elements of Harmony, and to his teachers, any adults he regularly speaks to, and Missus Mayor here.”
“But...”
“We all want him to stay,” Mayor Mare said. “But at the same time, we can’t lie about anything that’s happened. So we need to settle on how to tell the truth as carefully as we can.”
“Kinda like a job interview, then,” Lyra remarked.
“Exactly.”
“I’ll go get started on those waffles,” Bon Bon said.
Bastion’s wings buzzed with nerves every three steps he took. Apple Bloom was unnerved by it, both out of sympathy and because of how regular it was, at first.
Then it stopped, and he only buzzed after five steps. Then two, then only one. Rather than unnerved, she became worried: Bastion’s conditioning, while it hadn’t made him much of a warrior, had left him prone to set habits and predictable patterns, she’d gotten used to most by now. He was looking and acting more erratic, now, though, more random. He’d been doing that a lot lately. “Are you okay?” Apple Bloom asked. If he was sad, that was something she could deal with. If he were beginning to act more randomly, she wasn’t sure if that was a good sign or not.
“Of course I’m okay. They’re just sending some griffons over to check if I’m really being treated nicely in Ponyville. That’s all.”
Bastion had never been a proper infiltrator, and it showed. “They’re only sending griffons because of your mom. And somepony still started this.”
He pouted, and she knew she’d hit home. He could never fool her. “It’s fine.”
“And they’re probably gonna check if you’re alright in the head, too.”
He stopped. “I know. And I’m not.”
She sighed and stopped right beside him. “Yeah, I noticed.” She gave him five seconds to talk, but when he stayed quiet, she added, “Do you wanna talk about it?”
“There’s nothing to talk about. I feel weird, I don’t know why, and nothing I’ve tried to do helps.”
“You’re still doin’ better than when you first got here. Everypony likes you. Except market ponies, maybe, but they don’t like anyone.”
“That’s not the point. That’s not the problem. I don’t know what the problem is.”
“I know, but that’s the problem they’re gonna be coming for. And you gotta remember, you’re doing a good job fitting in here. That’s all anyone can expect from you.”
He sat down and clutched his head with his hoofpaws. “Apple Bloom, I don’t even know what’s wrong with me. Maybe it’s the same thing that was wrong with my mom, and I’m gonna start forgetting who I am, too.”
“But you ain’t got anything planted in your head, do you?”
“I’m not sure I’d notice if I did.”
Not one to take that kind of downer attitude for an answer, Apple Bloom huffed and nodded. “Okay, then do what you’re good at. Break it down, and make a plan. What do we need to do to make sure you can stay?”
“Don’t let the griffons find out I’m not well, if they don’t know already.”
“For now,” Apple Bloom corrected. “You ain’t exactly had a lot of time to learn how to be yourself, or even to figure out what your ‘self’ is supposed to be. And you don’t even get cutie marks to help with that, so go a little easy on that.”
“Okay, fine.” He grumbled. “Then I have to show I’m happy here. And other ponies need to show they’re happy I’m here.”
She smiled a little when she heard him say ‘other ponies,’ as if he considered himself one now. “I’m sure that won’t be too hard, either. Anything else that needs doing?”
He closed his eyes and thought. “No. I think the only thing I really can do is what I’ve been doing: living in Ponyville. I just… I wish I knew what was wrong. It’s like I’m not me anymore.”
“That weird dream again?” Apple Bloom asked.
“Same exact one,” he replied, before shuddering. “I can’t even take the sound of bottles jingling together anymore. I’m pretty sure that’s not me.”
“For what it’s worth, I think your beekeeping is pretty much all you. If you focus on that, you might speed things up a little.”
“Thanks.” His stomach growled. “Maybe I could nudge things a little, just to be safe. It couldn’t hurt to help things along just a tiny bit, right?”
“Of course not,” Apple Bloom with a smile. “Just, you know, don’t overdo it.”
The boy’s stomach growled, and he hissed right after. “Okay, food first, strategising later.”
About a week later, the group of foreign inspectors arrived. The griffons landed outside of Ponyville, so as not to spook the locals.
“Okay, you know what we’re here for,” the female in the front said. “Simple question and answer, be on the lookout for anything unusual, and if you suspect anything suspicious, do not let it slide. We want to show the naga we are thorough. Any questions?”
The male to her left raised a claw.
“Yes, Geirolf?”
“I sa-I say now when you say ‘anything suspicious,’ do you mean shenanigans or chicanery or any o’ such like illicit activity?”
Gaenorga rolled her eyes. Always the same thing with Geirolf and his insufferable Southern Plains ways. How the buffalo had tolerated his presence for as long as they had was beyond her. “We are not looking for illicit activity, Geirolf. These are ponies: they don’t break the law very often, because there are hardly any laws to break. We’re on the lookout for deception, in particular.”
“Ah, bamboozlements and hornswoggling. So no need to turn our eagle eye on the, shall we say, underlyin’ underbelly tensions, then.”
His euphemisms were almost as bad as his accent. “Not this time, no.” Gaenorga didn’t blame him for his ignorance. This was a rather unusual case, after all. Still, at least this time they wouldn’t require any muscle for the proceedings.
Said muscle raised his claw, because when Geirolf had a question, Garwin had to remind Gaenorga of his existence, always. Not that she didn’t see a good reason why he should, as he was usually the quiet type, along for the ride until the situation demanded his intervention. Around that time, he would get very loud and, soon after, everyone in his way would grow very, very still.
“Yes, Garwin?”
“How much do ponies know about purpose? Any subterfuge to exploit?”
“No,” Gaenorga replied, rubbing her forehead. “No, they know why we are here, and they know exactly why. The only thing they don't know is who we are, so no need to bring up the topic around them. I managed to pick up a letter from the mayor just this morning. And unless I get a message from our dear King before the bells toll...”
Right on cue, the bell tower of Ponyville sounded to alert everyone another hour of the morning had passed.
No parchments materialised in magical fire, the flower gem in her bracelet didn’t vibrate, nothing on Gaenorga’s body indicated her mission had been aborted, as much as she might wish it was.
“Okay, no last-minute changes, then. You have your orders, and your locations. Take as much time as you need, we’ll meet back at the changeling’s home.”
The griffons nodded at their leader.
“Oh, and one more thing,” Gaenorga said before they could disperse. “Remember these are ponies. They are, as a rule, not educated on the outside world, and do not see creatures like us often. They’re herd animals, and chances are the whole town knows our purpose. Do not get distracted by the townsponies, do not antagonise anyone, but do not hesitate to put your claw down if they should confront you. We are here in the name of the law. Got that?”
“Yes, Ma’am,” came the reply.
“Hmm?” She turned to look at the bushes, her neck feathers raised up. Seeing no spies or eavesdroppers, she continued. “Good. Get to it, then. I’ll be busy with the librarian first.”