//------------------------------//
// Chapter 7 
// Story: The Night Can Change 
// by BlueyWaifu 
//------------------------------//


~~~~~A few months ago, one last time~~~~~


"Yes sir, good luck."

I gave Restel a faint salute, hoping to visually wish him luck in whatever would occur up there, and turned back to keep pace with the rest of the changeling unit. There were no other changelings I knew, and if I had any prudence, I'd make quick pals with someling before we mobilized. First, though, came finding my mark. 

"Hive!" The call came from the front of the group. Not my assigned mark, so I keep walking.

For the time that we'd marched through the forest beneath Canterlot, it had grown ever more dark. By now, we were positioned nearly directly underneath the capital of Equestria. Nearly underneath. All of our assigned spots with markings were just underneath the outer ring of the bowl that Canterlot sat upon, that way the flight up would be short. 

But, everyling here knows all of this by now. Mentioning something about it now would be like saying I was cold in a cold room. My only complaint now would be that I'm expanding the distance between me and the only other two familiar changelings I know. It would be a long, silent invasion for me if I didn't change that. 

The sound of our hooves trotting against the cluttered earthy ground was the only sound that my ears caught for what felt like forever. It only waned as others peeled off from the group to gather at their mark. A changeling at the front would make the occasional call for a mark, but none of them were mine. Not until he suddenly yelled "Queen's horn!"

That's me, and any other changeling that had it as their assigned spot. There couldn't be many more marks, there weren't many marching changelings left. A decent hoofful of us gathered at the Queen's horn that'd been carved into the bark of a tree.

I took my seat right next to the tree that bore the mark. The others that were here, well, they had someling to talk to. There was one thing to be grateful for at least; we were on the eastern side underneath Canterlot, so the near evening sun granted us some light to peer through the canopy of trees. Couldn't imagine what shade Restel and Klaven are sitting in right now. They would prob-

I was suddenly nudged on my shoulder. It snapped me out of my idle thoughts as I turned to look.

Nopony there. There was a light cackling from the opposite side of me. "You fell for it."

I turned and met eyes with other changeling who'd nudged me. He was hanging from the tree beside me, wearing a smug looking smile, as if his minor prank just landed on Celestia.

"Funny, but be real, that would work on anypony." I responded. The branch he hung from was actually quite low, and just above my head. He climbed back up to sit on the perch of the branch, looking down at me. "You must be anypony then. I'll call you any. My name's Frink." He leaned down to offer his hoof to me, to which I bumped with my own. "Faltic." I said.

"Got it. What're you doing sitting alone before the invasion?" Frink asked. I wondered if I really did look that isolated before responding. "My two friends are part of a different mark group, leaving me here without them." That got him to look at me quizzically. "Small world. Same situation here, my buddies are a part of the 'heart' mark group. Here I am in Queen's horn."

The heart group. I recalled them being on the complete opposite end of the forest. He really has been distanced too. 

"So, I guess you're with me?" I asked. He chuckled. "You're just anypony, so it's you who's with me."

Whatever makes the invasion pass without immense boredom. "Pfft, whatever." I waved a dismissive hoof at him. Not in a stern, uptight way or anything, changelings get along with banter. 

Frink finally left from his perch on the branch, and buzzed down to the ground, shaking off a few leaves that had caught his leg holes. "What were you doing up in the tree?" It was a reasonable question, I thought. Frink sauntered over to said tree, leaning against it casually. "It was shady, I don't much like being in the sun. Unless I have no other choice."

Looking at him now, he'd leaned against the tree opposite to the sun, where shade casted over his body. He continued. "Well, not much refuge from it once we start, or so I think." 

"I'll get you one of those big brimmed hats for your sensitive chitin." I didn't know what those egregiously large hats ponies wore were called. Apparently, Frink knew. "A sunhat, Any."

Still calling me Any. He continued. "Once I get up there though, and beyond that bubble gum looking shield, I'm posting up either indoors or in a shady spot."

Well, our orders are to pretty much lock down an area, so as long as he's doing just that. "Fair enough." I said. It's also a plus to have someone with me through this. These groups were just a safety measure to make sure changelings were evenly spread among not only the pink barrier, but within the city as well, so that we had a majority of the city on lockdown for our Queen.

Frink sat at the base of the tree, lounging his back to it, forelegs behind his head and his hind ones kicked over another. The shade of the tree casted over him, as per the pattern of finding him in the shade. In a way, he reminded me of Restel: laid back, easy going, that sort of thing. Though, that's only half of it. Restel can be serious when the time comes, I'll find out if this one can do the same once the call is given to fly up. 

That signal to begin our flight was taking a hot second. I'll just help kill more time. "So, who exactly is giving out our signal to start flying?" Frink turned his head to me and responded. "Oh, I know the guy. He's actually the backup since the original changeling in the position took another spot to already be in Canterlot before we begin." His head fell back  to lounge in his arms again. That was interesting, I'll have to ask about it. "Then do you know where he is now? I'm sure he told you about what different things he'd be doing right now."  I said. 

A thought came to me. Why not a party of three? I've met one changeling that I could get along with for the time being, why not meet another? Restel and Klaven would surely be doing the same. At least I think.

Frink gave a perplexed look to the branches above him as he thought. "I... think he's currently stationed in the middle of this semi-circle we've formed around Canterlot's bowl. Just so him calling for us to start flying reaches as many changeling ears as it can." That couldn't be a long trek. It was difficult to look up and gauge just how much the distance would be to the middle of Canterlot's base when there's countless leaves and branches impeding on the view.

"Makes sense." Asking right away would sound rude, or like I didn't want to be here. I don't, not with unfamiliar changelings. Socialness is not a strength of mine. 

Rather, he spoke up again. "Why, want to head over there?" He asked as he tilted his lounged head to the side to face me again. Ever so slightly, a smile began to tug at his mouth.

"Sure, let's do something different than this lot." I gave a half gesture to the rest of the changelings that were assorted around the horn marking. 

Something different, for sure. Frink stood up and was already starting his way into the forest. A direction that I could only assume one other changeling had gone. Before disappearing into the foliage, I looked back at our group... no, they're not going to care.


*****


Frink not only went out of sight to the group, but to me as well. As soon as I'd ruffled past a few bushes, and admittedly, almost tripped on a root protruding the ground, I still hadn't seen where he went. 

I stopped in a semi-open space in the vegetation. Enough wandering. "Frink?" 

Silence. The trees had already fully masked the wafting sound of changeling hooves and chatter.

"Frink, where'd you go?" I said it a little louder than last time. Though this time, there was a response. Not in the form of words, rather, a branch above me rustling heavily. I met him in a tree, I'll likely find him in one again.

Sure enough, out leapt the sun hating changeling from one of the million trees. He landed directly on top of a boulder , puffing his chest out sternly, as if he were the king of all forest kind. However, this time seeing him, he had a hat on.

Admittedly, I did flinch when he dove down, but I don't think he noticed. 

"Did I scare you, Any?" Or maybe he did.

I looked up to him, giving just a small mocking smile. "Not at all, king of the jungle. What's with the hat?" It had a droopy full brim, and two strings hanging down either side of his face. He lifted a hoof to point at it. "This is my bucket hat. It gives me great resistance to the sun and offers me comfort. Not to mention, stylish." He shook his head to let the strings freely sway to the motion. 

"Hah, some king." 

His immediate response was a look of offense as his hoof hit his chest as it swelled with mock pride again. "It's my crown, and I don't see you wearing one."

I'm not, because I don't have such quarrel with a celestial body, or a passion for darkness. It wasn't until now that I'd realized his position on the rock was completely saturated in shade. If a pony with an untrained eye were to look in his direction, they'd be liable to miss him standing there. I also saw that his horn speared through the top of the hat.

"Don't need one to be a king." 

Frink scoffed quietly. "A king of losers."

I shook my head, hiding a creeping smile as I resumed our trek for us, walking past his rocky pedestal. "Whatever. This is still the right way, yeah?" Frink leapt down and landed just ahead of me, pressing onward. "Yup, he said right in the middle of every mark and group of changelings."

It couldn't be much further now, surely. Despite our hike's short duration, it felt as if we'd travelled miles with how isolated from other changelings we'd become. Being around so many of them all the time, even short distances are a great respite. 

We fell into a silence as I followed his path through the ever darkening forest. Only darkening because of how much further we progressed underneath Canterlot, leaving much less sunlight to poke in wherever it could. It definitely made this changeling happy. The less light we had, the more spring got into his step.

It wasn't a long silence. 

"Signal! Let's go!"

I flinched a little. Frink didn't say it, I didn't say it. An immediate cacophony of buzzing followed. 

Frink turned to me with a sheepish grin. "Guess we're too slow." 

"Pfft, you're too slow." I retorted. Frink bent his front legs slightly, unfurling his insectoid wings. "Says the king of losers!" He shot up in flight, breaking through the tree line. 

If it's a race up there he wants, it's a race he'll get.


*****


We were among the last hoofful of changelings to reach the bubble before we'd overwhelmed it. Flying from nearly the center of underneath Canterlot gave me a first hoof answer as to why we gathered at the edges. I was starting to lose the pacing of my breathing by the time we reached the top. That, on top of the impromptu race Frink and I had. He was a surprisingly fast flyer. We touched down in Canterlot in what looked like somepony's expansive backyard, leaving two visually egregious craters in the grass.

Expansive, maybe. Big enough for us to land and have room to spare.

Frink's bucket hat had managed to stay firmly on his head. Not a ray of sunshine touched his face. The strings were also fastened under his chin now.

Despite landing in somepony's backyard, there was still a pony in it. Originally, I'd thought we aimed for the street in front of this house, but it can be hard to aim these comet-like landings. 

The stranger we dropped in on didn't look startled, just a little more dirty after having, well, dirt flung in every direction. Twice. 

He was a slightly darker blue than the sky on the coat, and I could swear that his navy blue mane reflected purple in the sun. The whole scene was laid out for us: This blue earth pony sat on a stool before a picket fence, back towards us, a paintbrush in his mouth, and a bucket of white paint beside him on the ground. 

Just one pony. I would've preferred more to shut down. Well, there is the house, whoever owns this yard is sure to be in it. Maybe more than one.

Frink tilted his head to me. I returned his look and shrugged. Frink spoke up before I did, and stepped to the side of the earth pony, peering at him. "Hey! What's happening here?" If it was all he could think of saying, I don't blame him. 

I'd have expected more of a reaction from the stranger. I stepped in on the other side of the unbothered pony. With no response, he was nodding his head, running his paintbrush along the fence. I couldn't read any expression on him other than concentration. 

It would've been an awkward silence, if it weren't for the distant sounds of other changeling's crashing into Canterlot. Now was my turn to speak. "You really like working on that fence, huh?" That finally provoked a reaction. The strange blue earth pony spat out the paintbrush in the pail, turned to me, and spoke. "You callin' this work?" It sure looked like it. I never painted a fence voluntarily. Well, I've also never painted a fence. "Yeah? Are you saying it's, not?"

The fence painter shook his head at me. "Might be, might not. But, this is 'bout the best thing I've done today." On the other side of this pony, Frink looked like he was holding back from laughing. "Whatever. You know there's a whole invasion going on? Well, our invasion on your homeland." And now, the earth pony turned to look at Frink. "Ya think I live here? With all the nose-raised high-society ponies? Nah."

Frink wasn't having any of it. It was a little amusing to watch. "Oh come on. You're trying to tell us painting a fence is the best thing you've done today?" Patience, as much of a virtue as it is, was ebbing on Frink. The earth pony sat up straighter and looked back and forth to both of us as he spoke. "Yup. Not everyday y'get to paint a fence. I'm enjoying it. When was the last time y'all did this?" 

Me, never. Frink, I don't know. "I... can't say I've done it." Frink said. So, same as me. The painter crossed his forelegs across his chest and shook his head. "Y'see what I mean now? You fellas don't enjoy when you get to do somethin' you don't normally do." That was the tipping point for Frink. I could almost see his brain change his functions. Frink extended a hoof for the paintbrush that rest in the pail. "Agh, I'll show you-" Frink was cut off by the earth pony swatting his intruding leg away, to which the blue pony snatched the brush in his own hoof. "Nuh-uh. Y'see in that house here?-" He gestured the brush to the house connected to the yard. "-Ms. Rainsoul is very particular 'bout how this fence is painted, and very particular 'bout who does it." 

My own amusement of watching Frink lose his temperament didn't stop me from questioning that. "So what makes you so special, huh?" The pony in question turned his eyes back to the fence. "Well, she built this fence herself. It's been here for years. Through rain or shine, good times and bad. She is really proud of this here." He broadly gestured once more to the extending fence. "I bet you I'm 'bout the only pony this side of Equestria that could do this. Hell, maybe even in all of Equestria that could do this. I'm one in a million I tell ya."

A lightbulb turned on in Frink's head, I could see it. But, immediately after, the light was smothered. Even his brain would hate light. "Well, we're not really from Equestria. Right, Any?"

He'll get over calling me Any anytime now. It was a sound reason though. "Yeah, we're not Equestrians. We don't pledge allegiance to your flag." The earth pony's lips curled in a quizzical look. "Ehh, I s'pose I could maybe see what a non-Equestrian can bring to the table, er, fence. But I'll need to see it worth my while to give this up, y'know?"

Frink briefly rubbed his chin with his hoof. Once more, a lightbulb was lit in Frink's mind, then was immediately snuffed due to light pollution. "How about this?-" A green swirl of fire washed over him as he changed. Once the fire cleared, there stood an exact copy of the blue earth pony we'd run into. Except, with a bucket hat on top. Frink held up his now blue leg and smiled. "-Huh?"

The painter gave the disguised changeling a look over. After a second, he shook his head. "C'mon now. You can look like me, but that don't provide me nothin'." Frink's smile dropped, and stamped his hoof down. "Of course it does! I take your spot, and Ms. Rain-whatever doesn't even know you've taken a break."

"Hm-" Another quizzical donned the original earth pony's face. "-Well, I have been meanin' to take a short break." He gestured broadly down the row of the fence. Only about half of this side was whitewashed. "As you can see, already done a lot, and the sun don't help none."

Frink blew a raspberry. "Tell me about it."

It was at this point, the original pony's eyes elevated to Frink's head. "Say... I'll relinquish this to you-" he grabbed the paintbrush in his hoof. "-if you both provide me a little break, but I'll need somethin' from both of you."

I couldn't help but agree about wanting a break. We haven't been up here for too long, yet the sultry air was already setting in. No telling how long this pony was here for before we landed. Disguised Frink turned his eyes to me, where I met his gaze and shrugged. "And what do you need?" I said.

"From you-" The original earth pony said as he turned to look at me. "-Need you to go inside, find me some water. Ms. Rainsoul in there will surely help, but if you can't find her, you know what a kitchen is."

I nodded. "...Uh huh."

He then turned back to Frink, who still donned his disguise. "And you, you can take over, but-" he pointed a hoof towards Frink's head. "I want to wear that hat."

Frink took a step back and shielded his chest with his blue leg. His face looked as if somepony had just slapped his own mother. In this case: the Queen. I know he has a clear distaste for the sun, and will stay out of it by any means, but the more the scope of his vendetta grew, the more amusing it was to me. So naturally, I was smiling at his immediate reaction.

"No, no, no no. Hell no. Hey-" I watched Frink look sternly at me. "-Don't laugh at me."

My smile from his reaction didn't falter for a second. "Oh I'm not, believe me. Not yet." I said.

Frink marched around the now silent earth pony, right for me. It looked as if the painter was just as entertained as I was, but was concealing it in a better fashion. The disguised changeling prodded his hoof at my chest. "Alright Any, how about you stay here and take over, I'll go get the water, hm?"

By then I couldn't help but stifle a chuckle. "Fine, fine. Anything to protect your sensitive chitin." With his hoof still to my chest, I flared up a fiery green swirl around myself and shifted into the earth pony's looks. As expected, Frink retracted his blue leg away from me quick. "Agh-" He shook his hoof. "-You did that on purpose." 

I didn't bother to hold back my amused giggle. "I might've. Don't go putting your hoof near a fire hazard next time." Frink lightly stamped his fire-warmed hoof back to the ground. "Whatever. You'll take the painting while I get the water, right?"

I nodded to him. "Sure, sure. You go on ahead inside. You've been working hard all day."

"Whatever, Any!" Frink tossed his precious hat at the original earth pony, to which he caught and placed it on his head. The hole cut out from Frink's horn didn't seem to bother him, nor did he appear to notice. Roughly three seconds later, Frink had already disappeared inside the house across the lawn.

"What a guy." The original said. He continued as he offered me his paintbrush. "Well, this is for you." I took it from him in my own blue hoof. He got up from his stool, stretched, and began trotting over to an umbrella that'd been opened in the corner of the backyard. "If'n you need me, I'll be over here on lunch break." 

I couldn't pry my eyes away from watching him take his lounge in a reclined pool chair. There was no pool. And... lunch? He's got no food. Oh well...

Oh, well, he has glasses on and a book now. 

Dip the paintbrush into the pail, make smooth strokes onto the fence.

I couldn't expect to be seeing Frink anytime soon. If I know him, with what little time I've spent with him, he'd probably find a way to stay in the house as long as possible, just to catch all the shade he could.

Sure enough, that is what he's doing. At least, the staying in the shade part. I saw him standing at the backdoor, not an inch of him beyond the frame. He was still that earth pony, but his horn had reappeared, and was lit with hazy green magic. In its grasp was a red solo cup, presumably filled with water. I paused mid-stroke to see how he'd do this. 

It was actually very simple how he did it. The cup floated itself across the air of the lawn, wrapped in a green light. I watched it glide towards the lounging earth pony, and land softly on the ground next to his chair. I looked back to Frink. "Real smart." I called out to him, putting on the same smirk I'd given him earlier.

Dip the paintbrush, make the fence more white.

He looked right back at me. "I always am." He yelled back at me from across the lawn.

Painting a fence was actually quite calming, in a way. The further down the row I got, the more I appreciated how well it looked. Frink wasn't vying for his turn or anything, he was content with the shelter of the house. Even if he wanted in, there was only one paintbrush.

Something about all of this, the work, the hot air, my mind felt like it had just snapped in half when I remembered something.

Wasn't I helping an invasion?