//------------------------------// // CH 2 - Home // Story: The Boy and the Bug // by Mr B //------------------------------// Seven Years Before the Storm I don’t wanna be here right now. Shellac looked at his desk in discomfort, the others had been at it again. All of his drawing utensils were missing, bits of hardened resin covered the desk itself and he could tell one of the chairs had two of its legs slightly shortened. He groaned and turned to the teacher.  “Miss Tibia, can I use a different desk?”  The older changeling turned her head away from the slab of resin being used as a chalkboard. The other young students were already climbing to their seats as she softly smiled and nodded, gesturing to the one beside it. Shellac let out a sigh of relief and sat down, only for him to sink into something.  “Oh you’ve gotta be kidding me.”  Shellac craned his neck around and found a layer of green gunk that glued the chair to his flank, pulling the chair up with him when he tried to get back up. He winced and turned to a trio of changelings in the far back with smug grins plastered across their faces. He shut his eyes tight and scowled.  “You know what? Fine, screw you guys!” He relaxed and sat back down before he caused an accident, refocusing on the lesson at hoof. “Okay class, today we’ll be focusing on literature mimicry, the act of copying another’s way of writing.” The teacher’s voice was soft and affectionate, like that of a caring mother. It was the one solace he had as he listened to her lesson. Small green bulbs casting away the darkness from the artificially dug classroom, sure they were dim but his natural night vision did the rest. As she spoke however he began to hear whispers from behind him which were just audible enough for him to hear without attracting Tibia’s attention. His faint smile faded and he unconsciously bought a hoof up to support his cheek. “Not this again.”   “He’ll be lucky to make Forager cast,” one nymph mumbled. “How much you wanna bet he’ll be stuck feeding grubs all day?” Shellac’s eye twitched, he felt his forelimbs grow restless and a spark of rage rising in his chest. The cherry red plumes of anger started to bellow in his lungs.  “Just ignore them. Just, ignore them.” “His shell’s as thin as a beetle’s!” They whispered. Mocking chirps and agitating wing clicks, insults spoken in their native tongue wormed their way into his ears. Shellac levitated a small piece of charcoal. His only writing utensil and swirled it around in place to help steel his nerves, it was hardly enough. “Teacher’s pet, teacher’s pet, just one tease and he gets all wet!” He was unconsciously beginning to apply more and more pressure to his charcoal shard. Trying to contain his rage as the nymphs behind him just kept going. On and on, it was relentless, but he was holding on trying to listen to the teacher’s directions. Until one insult broke the bee’s back. “Why would mommy ever take his egg in? Anyone else think it’s because his didn’t love hi-” Snap “Shut Up!” Shellac twisted his head around and stared daggers at the nymphs behind him. The class went silent as every pair of eyes turned upon him. Shell sat there, his chest heaving with pent up frustration but as his pulse slowed and the moment passed. He soon realised what exactly he’d just done. He slowly turned back around to face a thoroughly unamused adult now glaring at him. He shrunk into his desk as a horrible guilt ran down his back, only amplified by the disobedience of an Overseer’s rules. Tibia judgingly stared but would go on to lean her head to the side and look past him to the back of the class before returning to Shellac.  Pressure began to build upon Shellac’s heart. As if a vice had been fastened and was slowly crushing it like a plum. Intrusive thoughts invaded his mind and horrible images were pushed behind his eyes. He needed to say something, anything to take the edge off before it got any worse. “S-Sorry Miss Tibia…” He squeaked. Hoping to gain some shred of forgiveness and alleviate that guilt. A simple nod alleviated so much in a single stroke it almost prompted a sigh from physical relief. Tibia didn’t say anything but she knew what was going on as Shell could feel the emotions of the other nymphs behind him similarly cower. He wanted to believe they’d be getting it worse than him but experience had taught him otherwise, no this was the last straw.  They were going to have a little talk after this. The rest of the lesson was mercifully uneventful though that did little to calm his nerves. He picked up the broken chunk of charcoal and began working when Tibia hoofed over his work, two opaque green resin tablets. One blank while the other had different fonts of texts he was meant to copy. To his credit he did really well, he’d practised in his spare time and so was the first to give over his work, a small pride to reassure his worth. Yet he had to stay after class and wait for Tibia to return with the results from her highness. Like waiting to see if you’ve been condemned.  He sat alone, cold and scared, wondering what was to happen to him when she arrived. Was he still worth the rations being afforded to him? Would he be tossed into the wilds above never to return? Or would he be relegated to little more than cleaner, good for no more than making sure the other unhatched young hadn’t attracted any parasites.  “Not like they’ll hatch anyway, there’s not enough love to go around.” His train of thought was interrupted when he heard her hoofsteps in the distance. Reverberating off the smooth stone walls of the caves. “This is it,” he thought. Equal parts dread and hope circling around his head. His teacher strode back into the room and turned to Shellac with a smile. “Okay, good so far.” She moved a few chairs and sat down in front of him before she swapped between a few more resin tablets in her magical grasp. “So what happened this time Shellac?”  Shell parted his lips, his nerves still shot from earlier but he pushed through best he could. “T-The others began insulting me w-while you were b-busy. They said I wasn’t going to make it to any of the castes and that I had a thin shell and t-that…” He suddenly felt a rising in his eyes as he tried to look up to her. His cheeks hurt from the pain behind them and he struggled to get his last few words out. “M-My mommy d-didn’t l-love me…” It was too much. He felt a breath force its way from the back of his throat past his mouth. Then another, and before long he began whimpering in front of Tibia.  In a matter of moments, the dams broke down and a steady trickle of tears trailed from his eyes. She sighed and leaned in close, patting his cheek with a tender hoof. “Oh Shellac, mommy does love you! She loves all of you with all her heart. Chrysalis might be a busy mom but she does her very best to take care of us.” She cooed. Her attempt at comfort sadly had the opposite effect.  “She doesn’t get it, nobody does!” Shell’s mind cried. “I’m alone and I always will be!”  He continued to cry his eyes out into his hole ridden hooves. Tibia leaned back in confusion, unsure why his sadness only intensified from her assurance but tried to comfort him nonetheless. Shen then looked back at the tablets as an idea brewed in her head. “Say Shell, would you like to know what Chrysalis thinks of you?” She asked. Shellac’s river slowed down for a moment as his ears perked up. He stifled his cries and with teary eyes looked up at his career. Who would flip through some of the tablets she had.  “When I gave her this she told me she was impressed. You showed at least eighty percent accuracy with your work whereas the others had something closer to fifty or fourty. Your application for magic has also caught her eye. You already know some very complex spells for your age and your shapeshifting is exceptional.”  “It…it is?” He sniffled, feeling a bit of hope in his chest.  “Yes, she says she thinks you’ll have the makings for a great changeling one day. You just need to stay strong and work hard.” Shell began to raise his head, newfound confidence built up within and he climbed to his shoulders with awe. Relief and hope blossoming in his core, he felt reinvigorated, vindicated of his outburst earlier.  Tibia returned her smile and put away the tablets. “Better? Come on, you must be hungry after all that.” “S-sure, yeah!” Shellac then climbed out of his se- “Wa-woah!” He suddenly found the seat held fast to his flank and he was sent hurling towards the ground with a loud crash, other desks tumbling onto and all around him. Pain erupted from all over and he cried out as Tibia leapt to his aid. He’d forgotten about the other’s little prank on him. They’d messed around with his desk enough to know he always chose the one directly to its left so they booby trapped that one as well. Tibia began moving away debris and spitting onto where the slime held him in place, dissolving it in a matter of seconds. Yet Shellac couldn’t even bring himself to look up at her, he was only five; this wasn’t fair. Nothing about it was! Why can’t they just leave him alone?... You know what? Fine, screw you guys! He thought. That same angry fire ignited again, burning brighter than before and with a new purpose. “I’ll pass this even with you being jerks! I’ll be the best changeling there is and then I’ll leave! And Chrysalis will punish you for making me leave!” As Tibia helped him to his hooves uttering endless words of comfort. He suddenly felt that fire inside turn a different colour, not one of reds or greens, but his own royal purple. “One day, I’ll be my own changeling, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me!” A new sensation stilled inside him, a potent mix of determination and spite. They might win today but Shellac would ensure he’d win the war.  He’d been filled with conviction. Four Nights Before the Storm Shellac began to stir, quickly finding himself surrounded by dark jagged rock. Small lumensant lights glowed a dim green reflection off his eyes though through the dark he was able to see just fine. Wherever he looked, cave-like tunnels that led in all kinds of directions whether it be horizontal or vertical were all around him. His nerves began to shoot as he recognised where he was. No no no no no please don’t tell me it was all just a dream! He internally screamed. There was no mistaking it, he was back there. Dark shadows shifted within the corners of his vision. They dashed from wall to wall, flickering within the tunnels above. His pulse quickened and beads of cold sweat ran down his chitin as he looked around the massive chamber he was in. A plethora of whispers began to assault his senses, like hisses and squeaks, an unintelligible mess of changeling voices and scrambled words. What he could make out were tales about the ponies, how they’d lied, stole and murdered. How they’d thrown them out decades ago and that they cared only for themselves. “No!” Shellac cried, “I’ve met a pony! Gleaming Gold, she cares about me, she rescued me!”  The whispers grew louder still, quickly shifting into growls and shouts. Drawing closer and closer until he couldn’t even hear himself think!  In a matter of minutes, Shellac was bombarded by a tidal wave of noise that threatened to shatter his ears and his sanity along with them.  “Please!” He cried, shutting his eyes and covering his ears. But it was in vain for the voices were inside his head, shouting and screaming, commanding him to obey but he refused. He wouldn’t, never again!   With each second, he could feel a spider’s web of cracks beginning to form up his head as his skull threatened to split in half from the sheer pressure of them all! Chitin cracking, splintering and fracturing. “No, No!” He suddenly forced his eyes open and let out a scream that twisted his lungs. “NEVER!” A wave of air pulsed from his prone form that kicked up ash and dust from all sides. Sending the voices with them as sweet silence echoed throughout the caves leaving a void of nothingness behind. Shellac heaved, drawing upon heavy breaths as his lungs burned, the cracks in his chitin having disappeared. He slowly got to his hooves, his legs wobbled like jelly from the outburst. “Never…” A foreign noise disrupted the calm void that had overtaken the area. The clopping of distant hooves that were slow and methodical, with a confidence that bordered on arrogance. He knew that walk, every changeling did, from the very day he hatched as a grub his ears had tuned themselves to that noise. Shell’s heart sank into his legs like a lead brick as he turned to the tunnel it was coming from. Slowly the figure revealed themself. Black as night and as tall as a monolith, with glossy swamp green hair dropped over her face. The smell of rotting wood wafting into his nostrils with a horn so crooked it’d never have competition, and ghostly solid green eyes that glowed with power. She turned to look him directly into his very soul and felt a hunger, a ravenous craving that led to a bottomless pit. “Shellaaaac~” She grinned, licking her lips. Met with a voice he’d never wanted to hear again and that made his blood run cold enough to freeze. “You have something that belongs to meeeeeeee~”  Shellac snapped around and bolted in the opposite direction, heedless of where exactly the tunnels would take him so long as he could escape the ghostly monarch. He heard an unearthly cackle from behind him that only pumped more adrenaline through his veins propelling him faster through the darkness. Yet as he jumped over, flew and climbed into different caves and side passages. He only found more of nothing and more of the same. Eventually places started to look alike one another and try as he might his body had limits. His lungs burned and his limbs ached in pain. His heart threatened to give out so he began to slow. Still fighting to keep himself moving even as he began to drag his legs across the rough stone floor. He felt as though the weight of an ox had been planted on his back and he collapsed, his thoughts, sluggish and groggy. As it was, he couldn’t move, couldn't think, only breathe and pray he’d gained enough ground. But the sounds of her steps all but confirmed his demise. It was hopeless to think he ever stood a chance as an aura of green light shone down upon him. He dared not look up, denying to himself that maybe if he closed his eyes she wouldn’t be there, that he’d be okay and that this was all just a bad dream and that he’d wake up any moment now. But such a reality was denied to him as he felt his chin was enveloped in magical energy and his head cranked upwards without his permission. His eyes likewise were forced open and he found himself staring into the very same ravenous chasm he tried so desperately to evade.  “Oh Shellac, I thought you’d know better by now.” Her words were slow and laced with poison, every utterance eroding away what little resistance he could still put up.  “Please…don’t.” He begged, pleaded for some small mercy.   Sadly,  he was afforded none as the changeling queen continued. “I hatched you, raised you and fed you. Everything about you belongs to me!” Her mouth creaked open like the jaws of a python and a tendril of energy began to force its way out of Shell’s mouth. With each second he could feel the love being sucked away from his core, like the excitement from Raining, the affection of Gleaming, the happiness from both that he’d been so careful not to take more than he needed. All of it was ripped away as his chitin began to swivel up and his bones became visible through his shell and rib cage raised from his chest.  When she was done Shellac once again fell to the ground,  his body little more than a dark skeleton with a thin layer of skin and hard shell. He had no strength left, no ability to move or even speak. He felt so…empty. Alone… Cold… Scared… The world began to darken as the sounds of the queen’s steps grew distant. The lights of the hive dimmed down until the shadows consumed what was left of his frozen, frail body… Shellac’s eyes shot open, his limbs frozen in place still as a statue. He gasped for air as harsh chill ran through his body. He was staring at something white with a very droopy texture, like vertically dried paint. Cold sunlight piercing into the room from behind a pair of curtains. Of course it was only then he realised he was staring at the ceiling. “W-Wait…” A familiar voice greeted him from the side. “Shellac? Are you okay?” He turned his head and saw the light brass coat and metal grey mane of Raining Lead sitting beside him. Himself recently woken and clearly concerned. “You looked like you were having a bad dream.” He added. Shellac blinked for a moment before he  threw his hooves forward to grab Raining and pull him into an impromptu hug. The colt yelped at the sudden surprise embrace but soon recognised the reasoning. Raining likewise reached around and returned the gesture. “Yeesh, must've been worse than I thought.” Shellac didn’t respond and instead held himself close to Raining, trying to hold back tears and whimpers. He did eventually let go and solemnly met his eyes. “I’m sorry, I shouldn't have-” “Shellac! Come on bud don’t beat yourself up. Can’t expect the Princess to watch over every-creature’s dreams like with us.” He patted the changeling’s shoulder, “It’s just a dream, dreams can't hurt you.” Shell shrunk down into the blanket he’d been lended and embraced the smooth covers affording him much needed comfort. “T-Thanks Raining, I needed that.” “Great! I’m gonna make myself some breakfast, you like cereal?” “What’s cereal?” Shell asked, the confusion replacing his earlier panic.  Raining froze and stared at Shellac like he’d just told a bad joke. Silence hung in the air longer than the nymph would’ve felt comfortable with. Then a grin started to form across Raining’s mouth, reaching the edges of his cheeks which bulged out to accommodate and threatened to obscure his eyes. “Raining? Is something wrong?” “Oh no! Nothing at all! I’m gonna get to see you try cereal for the first time!” He giggled with excitement, only making Shell more confused.  “Again, what exactly is it?” Shell asked, hoping for a more direct answer.  “It’s a bowl of…sweet stuff I guess. Honey covered oats or clusters of nuts, hazelnut chocolates with some kind of coating, dried strawberry flakes, that kinda stuff. Then you fill the rest of the bowl with milk.” “That…does sound nice actually, can I have some?” “What’s the magic word?” “Uhm…abra cadabra?” Shell teased. The other colt huffed but stood firm. “Fine! Please may I have some cereal?” “That’s better! And yes you can.” Lead left the room to go to the kitchen and as he did so more hoofsteps descended down the staircase. Shellac shifted in his seat and removed the blanket that had been his bed cover for the evening, anticipating another meeting with his caretaker.  Gleaming Gold appeared in the living room doorway wearing that warm smile from last night. A sure sign of reassurance if Shellac had to name one. But then as she entered the living room another figure appeared in the doorway. His coat was a deep, dirty copper with a dark grey mane. He kept his front right leg close to his chest, not applying too much pressure when he tried walking with it. His grey metal gaze glossed over the room absentmindedly before snapping to Shellac and shrinking to the size of pinpricks.  “My dad probably won’t like you…” Shellac felt a wave of cold needles stab into his back and the two locked eyes with one other. A thousand different possibilities raced through his mind in only a few seconds, dodging bolts of magic, having arrows launched at him, weaving around a gauntlet of swords, spears and glaves in the middle of Canterlot’s streets or just a brutal hoove to face beating. His mouth refused to let him utter a word under the guard’s glare. “Honey…what is that?”  “That’s Shellac, he’s-” “What is it doing in our HOUSE?!” The stallion shouted at Gold. She lowered her head slightly and braced herself. “Have you lost your mind? It’s probably plotting to replace our son!” Shellac shrunk down into the corner of the couch as small as he could, trying his best to bury himself between the cushions. “Why in Celestia’s name would you let it in?!” Gold’s eyes shot open, determination rising in her shoulders as she spun around and snapped back. “Last night I found him freezing to death in an alleyway. He's a child, Copper, what was I meant to do?” She countered. Her stance was firm and ready, as if prepared to defend herself. The stallion froze, glaring at her for a few seconds before his horn began to glow a brilliant bright orange. A soft aura of magic briefly washed over Gleaming before he continued. “A cleansing spell, anything it used on you is gone, feel any different?” “I feel slightly annoyed!” She reposted with a hint of sarcasm present in her throat before closing the distance and calmly spoke a hoof’s length from Copper Casing.  “Now listen, last night I found this changeling, who’s name is Shellac, in an alleyway beside a dumpster, hiding under a cardboard box like a stray cat. He had no food, no shelter and no clothing. We both know how cold it was going to get, you lit the fireplace yourself. If I’d have left him there he would have died Copper.” “Well why didn’t you turn him in to the guard?” “What happens to a changeling when they get captured? You were part of the guard, you should know.”  “Well they face trial...actually hold on changelings aren't ponies. So would they be classed as POWs or political prisoners? I guess Chrysalis’s hive is more of an insurgency group than a full nation.” Gold stared at her husband, her lack of amusement was clear to see. “Oh right um, so whatever the case they would’ve likely been sent to Canterlot Dungeons until further notice.” He added. “And what do changelings require to survive?” “Solid food like the rest of us, sorry honey.” Gold sighed, clear disappointment in her eyes.  “Copper, look at him for a moment. Do you see anything different?” Copper Casing did as requested and looked over at Shellac, examining him from the door. After getting a good look he turned back to reply. “He’s got purple eyes and he’s clearly a kid, so what?” “So he’s not one of the changelings that attacked Canterlot. He was never part of the raid and he’s not Chrysalis’s child, he’s too young.” Copper breathed in and gritted his teeth, an air of frustration now radiating off the unicorn. He slowed his speech and spoke clearly with conviction. “Honey, I understand that you did the things you did because they were right. But housing a changeling can, and will, get us arrested. You might think with your heart but I think with my head, and if you can’t bring yourself to do what’s required I will.” Shellac may have well been a little rolled-up ball of dread at Copper’s statement. “This was it,” he thought. “I’m never going to see the light of day again.” Raining then slipped in through the door between the two with a bowl held in his telekinetic grip as he leisurely strode towards Shellac. Both his parents turned in surprise at their son’s entry and Copper held his bad leg out towards him. “Raining don’t!”  Raining paused, craned his neck and looked over his shoulder towards his father. “I was just giving him cereal dad, he’s never had it before.” “Raining go to your room! We’re discussing something important.” “Dad, I was literally in the kitchen listening to the whole thing. Shellac Is not a bad changeling! If he was, he would've hurt me or said something bad about you like Lance does!” Both Copper and Gold looked at each other. Shellac could sense something click within the both of them at that moment. Some kind of trigger that stirred up mixed feelings, a cocktail of anger and fear with a touch of sadness.  “You keep saying I should make more friends but Lance scares them all off. Come on Dad, look at him!” Raining gestured towards Shellac who quivered like a little scared animal.  Copper Casing gritted his teeth and paced his breathing, a practice not helped by Gold resting a hoof on his shoulder. “Come on dear he’s right, just give it a chance okay? He’s not casted any spells or tried hurting anypony.” Copper shut his eyes tight and yelled in a fit of defeat. “FINE! Fine, we’ll let him stay.” Raining raised a hoof into the air in celebration. “Yaaaaaay!” Copper immediately followed up, pointing directly at the tucked in changeling. “But if you endanger my family I’m not having second thoughts, got it?!” He shouted loudly enough to terrify a dragon. With the energy of a springy plank of wood, Shellac planted a hoof against his forehead in a hastily made, nervous salute. “Good, damn it now I’m hungry.” Cooper turned and left for the kitchen as did Gleaming, who looked over her shoulder and winked before disappearing out of view. Shell sighed in relief and felt just about ready to melt into a puddle from the exchange, his stomach however reminded him he’d not eaten in the past several hours. Raining jumped onto the couch beside Shellac, placing the cereal bowl in front of him with his own hovering just slightly in front of his face. Shell was quick to catch his breakfast and looked into it he found a bunch of…what looked like miniature hay bales with bits of chocolate stuck inside them half drenched in milk. He raised a spoonful and turned to Raining who was happily munching down on more of the same.  Not wanting to seem rude he began eating and quickly found the appeal. The creamy goodness of the milk helped soften the otherwise rock-hard hay bales and dislodge the chunks of chocolate inside, and before long he was shovelling it down like his companion next to him. Naturally, he had to take the time to actually chew due to the much harder nature of his food but that allowed him to more thoroughly cherish the flavours inside. Barely two minutes passed before both bowls sat on the coffee table in front of them. Small remnants of milk clung to their mouths as they smiled at each other. “Found out what love tastes like yet?” Raining asked. “Nah, but this was a good start.” “So is your dad usually…like that?” Shellac looked down at the coffee table where Raining had laid out his cards. They all had various numbers and symbols on them like diamonds, clubs, hearts and so on, with a few of them having stylised pictures of the princesses on them though the way they’d been drawn made it look confusing as they were both right side up and upside down at the same time. “Not really, only when he gets upset. He just wants to make sure we’re safe.” Raining had explained the rules of the games they were playing. The goal was to get an arrangement of cards that either equaled twenty one or were at least higher then your opponent but you could only see your own cards. They’d take turns deciding if they should take another card and risk going over or stay and hope they had a higher value then the other.  “I don’t blame him, I’d be angry if I couldn’t use my leg anymore.” Raining took a card and added it to his set of three as Shellac did the same. “Well it’s not that he can’t use it, it’s just very painful for him to use it.” Shellac looked at his cards with a smile and tapped his hoof on the table, indicating his decision to stay. “Did you try healing magic? I know some myself, I think I could help!” “No good the doctor said. It broke in three places and healing magic could disfigure the bone. He’s waiting on surgery.” Lead took another card. “This long? It’s been several months since the attack!”  “A lot of ponies got hurt, it wasn’t just guards they went after, ready by the way?” “Yeah, one, two, three!” Both then laid their cards flat on the table and began counting. Shellac totaled at eighteen with Raining…at twenty. “Aww, you win, again?”  The brass colt was already scooping up the cards and shuffling them around. He placed the deck face first onto the space beside them before both drew their starter card. “It’s not all bad, whether it’s because of mum or because he’s determined he still makes the effort to go out with us. If you haven’t noticed already, this family’s nothing but barely contained chaos.” Raining snickered. Shellac took another card and added it to his deck. “Gonna tell me more funny stuff?” “Hey now, don’t tempt me.” Shellac chuckled as Raining drew a second card. “Living at the hive was pretty chaotic I’d say, the walls over there are alive, literally. Constantly shifting and stretching as to confuse any-creature trying to break in that’s not a changeling. Tunnels are always opening and closing, very easy to get lost, but there’s areas that stay the same.” “Really? Dang, and I thought ponyless carriages racing up and down the streets was bad.” Raining spoke up while eyeing his cards.  “Oh you don’t even know the half of it, I got bullied a lot in class for not being Chrysalis's child. I had a few friends but we couldn’t be seen together so I was always alone, at least you have your parents. I had a caretaker that juggled me and at least ten other nymphs.” “Double dang, you make changelings sound like jerks.” “They kind of are, why’d you think I ran away?” Both paused to draw another card but when Raining drew his, he facehooved and showed his set. Shellac saw he’d gone over twenty-one and laughed. He reshuffled the deck and gave Raining his starter card as usual. “Speaking of bullies, there’s this one earth pony who’s made it his personal mission to make my life as horrible as possible, Moonlit Lance.” Shellac raised his head to face him. “You mentioned him earlier, what makes him so bad?” “He’s very big and he’s very mean. Teachers at my school don’t take bullying seriously and I’m pretty sure he takes advantage of that. It’s like he’s trying to see just how much he can get away with before they do something about him.” “Oh really? Hit me?” Raining shot up and stared a thousand yards through him. The air around him taking the most left field, one eighty turn Shellac had ever seen. “He made me eat black snow just before winter break, broke into my locker, put dirt in my sandwich and threw my coat into the toilet…” Raining winced. “Then flushed...” Shellac’s mind was hit with a non-existent foghorn as he drew a blank on his next few words. He was expecting something bad, sure, but more like having spitballs launched at him or being called colourful names. What Raining just described didn’t just sound bad, it sounded diabolical and like it was only just the tip of the proverbial mountain. He slowly nodded as he came up with a response.  “Wow…just wow, he already sounds worse than half the hive.” “That was just before winter break, want me to go on?” Shell immediately shook his head in response. “No, no, you’ve said enough, you make ponies sound like jerks.” The game quickly resumed with Raining drawing a card. “Eh, it’s mostly just Lance, his sister tries to keep him in check but I’ve rarely seen it stop him.” Shellac felt a rising tide of emotion begin to stir within Raining. Even after he finished he didn’t break off from that stare and it quickly became uncomfortable. Shell suddenly found he couldn’t sit right, fidgeting and shifting in place. That emotional cocktail of anger, fear and sadness came creeping back.  Shell, sensing an emotional shift he tried to think of a way to change the subject.  Raining however beat him to it. “It’s fine though!” He forced a smile. “Mum and dad always keep me company, we play board games and read books, maybe I can show you my collection sometime!” The cocktail welling within Raining was suddenly being suppressed, shoved away and aside by a wave of forced happiness and newfound excitement. A bead of sweat ran down Shellac’s temple as he nervously replied. “Yea! That sounds great, Lead! Uhm…know any other card games?” Just then Gleaming walked past the doorway turning towards the both of them with Copper Casing shortly behind. “Hey you two, I’m going to work, see you at five!” “Bye Mum!” “Good luck Miss Gold!”  She left their view and the sound of the door opening and closing confirmed her departure, leaving the two boys with Copper Casing. Who then floated a big board game box titled Hammer & Anvil! He addressed them with a smile.  “You two ready to play a real game?” Closed due to staff sickness, sorry everypony! Gleaming looked at the note plastered to the inside of her workplace window with a sigh. “Damn it, I was looking forward to talking to Hazel again.” She’d spent the better part of an hour travelling to work and now had to turn around and walk alllllll the way back. It wasn’t that bad though all things considered, Canterlot’s streets were just as beautiful during the day as they were at night, though a fair bit warmer. Ponies in all manner of festive attire pranced along its paths, Pegasi flew above sweeping rooftops and chimneys and the golden glow of its overhead lights had been replaced with shining white sunlight that reflected off the snow.  Carriages of all kinds were pulled along the roads with some decorated to fit the season and on rare occasion, a self-propelled carriage would waltz up or down the roads, leaving a dark trail of smoke in its wake. Gleaming looked around, rubbing the back of her head. “I swear I’m forgetting something…something about Shellac.” She traced her hoofsteps, she found the little nymph in an alleyway, almost got caught by the guards, got home…”That’s right! I was going to look for an orphanage!” It only just then occurred to her that she never knew where any of them were in Canterlot, she never had reason to look for them. “Okay, where’s the best place to look for that? Library maybe? If nothing else I could get Raining a new book, yeah, let’s try that.” She turned towards the street and hailed a taxi carriage and not more than a minute later she was already on the roads, watching buildings and ponies pass by her. Her mind began to wander, what was in store for her in the future?  “Hopefully Shellac and Raining can stay friends, Celestia knows Raining needs more of those.” Her mind flashed back to the day of the attack. Balls of green flame crashed from the sky alongside the screams from outside with Copper telling her to stay with Raining and lock the doors. The whole ordeal didn’t last for more than an hour but it felt like eternity.  “Maybe he’s right,” a little voice spoke to her, “Maybe I am being played. Changelings can sense the emotions of others, so I’d be as easy to read as an open book. But he seems so genuine! Ah well, this’ll all be over soon. Find the library, find an orphanage and resolve this.” Gleaming’s mind found itself in a mental tug of war, weighing her options over what to do next. “But should I really do this? Just throw him away? After he described how Chrysalis raises her kids? Foster care would be all he’s ever had. I can’t adopt him either, though; he’s a changeling! Like Copper said, if we get caught we’re all in trouble.”  For the first time in a long time Gleaming was plagued with uncertainty. Granted it was something she’d had to go through once already with Copper Casing after the attack. The first time she saw how twisted his leg had gotten she had to fight to keep the contents of her stomach down, among the other injuries he’d sustained.  Then there was the whole issue with her son feeling alone. She and Copper were able to amend that but it didn’t do well for his social skills. She didn’t want him growing up into a shut-in exclusively raised by his parents.  “Lovely day for it don’t ya think?”  “Huh?” Gleaming woke back to reality and turned her attention to the earth pony pulling her carriage, wearing a yellow striped parka in the same style as the taxi.  “Lovely weather, wouldn’t you say?” “Yeah…well I’m told it’s not going to last forever, it’s only going to get colder apparently.” She remembered hearing about it from the local weather reports and not long after it was the talk of the town. While the weather teams were good there were still limits on how far they could control mother nature. “Yep! Big blizzard’s coming this Hearth’s Warming Eve, I’d stock up on firewood if I were you.”  Gold sat back in her seat with half-lidded eyes, struck by a sudden wave of weariness. “Thanks, I’ll add it to my list.”  “You look troubled, Miss, everything okay?” The cabby briefly looked over his shoulder to face her. “Family issues…” “Ah right, been there myself, while I can’t speak for whatever it is you're going through, just know things will eventually get better.” He put on a reassuring smile trying to comfort her even with the bags under his eyes. Gold idly looked past him onto the road forward. They were coming up onto an intersection with very few other carriages. The stallion kept going, shifting more of his focus towards her then the road. “When my dad passed away-” From behind a building on the right a large fast moving object emerged, little more than a blur of colour but it grabbed Gold’s attention as it raced towards the stallion’s side. She jumped up and shouted, “HEY!” The cabby had just enough to turn around and jump backwards before he was slammed by the runaway carriage. He raised his own hoof and yelled as it raced away. “Oi watch it! Agh I swear the ponies who drive those things are blind sometimes. Only a matter of time till’ somepony gets hurt.” The cabby took a deep breath and addressed Gold, who had sunken back into her seat. “Sorry miss. You alright?” “Just take me to the library.” Gleaming strode past a large pair of double doors and into a huge multi-story chamber where rows upon rows of bookshelves surrounded her. Reading areas were scattered throughout with the library having put on its own fair share of decorations which mostly consisted of inoffensive fairy lights and multi-coloured tinsel, supplemented by the occasional cardboard cutout of a tree.  Not wanting to dawdle, Gleaming walked on over to reception where a middle aged mare with a deep blue coat and barely groomed mane was waiting. She had a heavy pair of bags under her eyes, only partially obscured by the semi-circle glasses perched on her nose. Despite being awake she very much looked as though she was asleep standing up. “Good morning, do you know where I can find the local orphanage?” Gold opened. The mare took a full five seconds to crane her head towards her before pointing at a nearby notice board with a large map. “Thanks Miss…” Gleaming looked down at her badge. “Moonlit Lamplight, that’s a nice name!” She grinned. The mare didn’t reply, staring a thousand yards through her soul. Unnerved, Gold slowly backed away and went to look at the notice board, adjusting her coat as she did. Was it always this warm in the library? In any case she examined the notice board. There were a few public events going on like an old winter lights festival advertisement, a theatre play, a carnival poster.  “Lead would love that, he was always good at the shooting games.” Gold finally settled upon Cantermore Public Orphanage and made a mental note of the name. A bell rang in her head and she squinted. “Wasn’t there some kind of scandal a while ago?” It was a faint memory but it was enough to draw her attention. She pulled back to the receptionist and requested access to the newspaper archives. Lamplight carried herself away and escorted her with the speed of molasses to a door with a frosted, glass window, pulling out a key and undoing the lock. Inside was a vast room full of rows and rows of draws with different labels. The air was desert dry, without another soul in sight, the walls were a dark dingy wood brown, the blinds only half drawn and there weren’t any overhead lights so it was incredibly dim compared to the well lit central library. Unfazed, Moonlit Lamplight turned to Gold and spoke as though she had to drag her tongue out of bed. “So, what are you looking for?” “Information on Cantermore Public Orphanage, and any others in Canterlot.” Gold replied, half hoping she’d be able to offer those options.  “Not unless you go out of town, trust me I’ve tried.” The librarian coldly spoke, ending that hope. She shifted past her down the dusty archive halls, an oil lantern held in her telekinetic grip bathing the area in a bright orange light. Gold pranced forward and matched her speed which wasn’t very hard, she was walking at a near snails pace. They eventually stopped at one of the sections and Lamplight walked inside, pulling out a drawer full of old newspapers and flipping through them until she picked out one in particular.  She passed it to the pegasus unfolded, keeping the lantern above her to afford her readability. The headlines made Gold’s jaw drop. ORPHANAGE OR WORKHOUSE?  In a recent turn of events, an anonymous source blew the whistle on exploitative behaviour conducted by the manager and staff team of the Cantermore Public Orphanage. According to the source, fillies and colts were teaching each other to lie and beg for food as the meals being served at the kitchen were not up to Equestrian standards. Instead they’d spend the day doing menial labour such as tying ropes, knitting clothing and minor woodworking. Money both donated and granted to the establishment intended to help nurture these kid’s lives was instead pocketed by the manager as was any profit gained from the sale and distribution of items made by the children. The manager had hoofpicked new staff, not on their nursing skills or compassion, but based on their tolerance of the environment so long as they were given a share of the bits.   Count Nutcracker has condemned these actions and promised swift justice against those involved, namely the greedy manager and the neglectful staff team, who’s job should be to ensure these kids have promising and fulfilling lives. Let us hope that the new team that comes after are able to deliver what these kids truly deserve. Gleaming Gold planted a hoof on her chest as her heart sank. Meekly turning to Lamplight for any kind of comfort or assurance only for her to offer the same tired glare. “Whole thing happened two months ago, new ponies aren’t as bad as I've heard but I still wouldn’t trust them.” “I-I-I, W-Why would?...J-Just why?! How even?” Gold fought to get her words out, most of them died in her throat as Lamplight gently took the paper away. “Some ponies are just bad, plain and simple. I think everypony forgets that whenever we have to deal with whatever supernatural threat rears its ugly head that week.” Lamplight closed the draw and moved to Gold’s side, rubbing a hoof against her shoulder. “Us ponies sing and talk all about love, friendship and everything, forgetting we’re just as capable of doing bad things as any creatures, but you shouldn’t let a few bad apples ruin the basket, otherwise you might as well plant a new orchard.” Her blunt words brought little comfort to Gold, finding her options shrinking like a flower in the snow.  “W-What do I do? What should I do? I-I wanna protect my little colt but I-I, I can’t just leave the other to the elements.” Moonlit moved in front of Gold, her eyes gleaming with newfound sympathy as she rested the lantern on a nearby table. “Slow down there, take a deep breath, and explain as best you can.” Gold did as asked, she forced her lungs full and held her breath for several seconds. Her mind was allowed to clear itself of all the noise as she exhaled her stress into the air.  “I…found a street urchin last night, probably no older than my twelve year old, freezing and half dead. I took him in and I want to take care of him but I don’t know if I can.” “What’s his name?” Gleaming paused for a moment to think, she couldn’t use his actual name obviously but she remembered asking Shellac if he had something else. She quickly flipped through her own archive of information and found the file. “Thunder Chaser.” She replied. Lamplight resumed her near snail’s pace and walked down the halls, picking up the lanturn with a pale white glow.  “H-hey where are you going?” “Follow me and find out, Mooncake.” She smirked.  Their walk led them into another section of the archive that seemed much more well used, where the blinds were open and allowed fresh sunlight into the hall so Lamplight could settle her lanturn. Instead of a wood brown the walls had more navy blues and little informational posters aimed at preventing fires. She repeated her motions flickering through another set of draws, pulling out a folder with the very name Gleaming had given.  “Isn't this kinda stuff meant to be at city hall?” Gold asked. Lamplight opened the file and gave it to her, indifferent to her concern. “Yes, but they’ve been doing renovations and needed somewhere to put the overflow.” Gleaming examined the file, displaying a picture of a deep purple coated pegasus colt with matching eyes. His two-toned mane was a mixture of a dark purple and light orange in the style of a mohawk, twelve years old with no known parents or home address. It seemed to line up with what she knew about Shellac, but there wasn’t a mention of a criminal record.  “I mean it’s hard to get caught doing anything when you can just make yourself look like somepony else and point hooves.” “I assume you were looking to either adopt him or send him somewhere you’d know to be safe?” Lamplight asked what sounded like a rehearsed question. Gleaming slowly nodded, not taking her eyes off the file. “Sorry love, life doesn’t come with easy answers. But if it helps, I can send out an adoption form for you.” “You could?” Now she had Gold’s attention, who shot up and faced her with renewed interest. “Been through the process myself, got refused in the end but you might have better luck.”  Gold looked back at the file, the memories of the night prior flashed through her mind. The risk she took, the bath she gave, the joy in her son when she served Shell food. The sensation warmed her, not unlike the fireplace of her home. She was happy to have done a good deed and see her son make a friend. But her husband’s wake up call reminded her she’d be playing a dangerous game, she could still feel the suspicious glare the guard gave her that night before, saved by a bell.  “I’ll have to think about it,” Gold still sadly couldn’t decide one way or the other. “I can’t be rash with something like this.”  Lamplight nodded and took the file, closing up the drawer before escorting her back to the central library. Gold hung her head, her heart heavy with worry and uncertainty as she thanked the librarian and walked towards the exit.  On her way she saw several children’s books lining the shelves. Many of them classic fairy tales or folk stories she recognised, like White Rose and the seven dwarves, Little Red Hood, Hoofsy and Greetsy. Many she remembered from her younger years with fond memories, bringing a smile to her lips. But along those titles was one that took her attention and that forced her to stop and stare: The Stolen Child. “It’s just a foal’s book, Gleaming, keep walking.” Her mind commanded her, but like before her heart compelled her otherwise and she slowly pulled the book out. The front cover depicting a mare in a dress, stumbling across a foal in a cradle on the side of a dirt road, surrounded by darkened woodland. Its back cover described a story in which a mother was tricked by a shapeshifter into thinking it’s her child. It almost felt as if fate itself was judging her. Her mind flashed back to the other stories and she remembered, whilst many of them had been made for children, the content inside was actually very dark. A cold-hearted mare trying to kill her daughter over vanity, a lycanthrope devouring somepony’s grandma and impersonating her to do the same to the granddaughter and a cannibalistic witch trying to eat a pair of children. She could deny it all she wanted but they were cautionary tales, including the book that now sat in her grasp. Gleaming struggled to breath, a stitch tore at the muscles in her chest and she quickly put the book away, almost knocking several others off the shelf in the process.  “It’s nothing! It’s nothing, it’s just a book Gleaming! It’s just a book! Go home!” She scrambled to her hooves and hurried out the doors before causing anymore ruckus. “Right, now move your Warmage towards your injured Pikepony so he can cast a healing spell.” A tiny purple sheath of magic resonated around the base of a miniature unicorn in a large cloak. It then glided across several small hexagonal tiles before stopping two tiles short of another miniature, this one of a guard holding a large glave. A red piece of paper had been slipped under the miniature to indicate it had been damaged, but a moment later it was removed and placed into a small wooden compartment with many others like it. At the same time a small dial with a swirl of magic printed on its cover, that went from one to three, was also enveloped, a switch flicked the dial from three to two. “Now I’m going to have my knights move up here.” Shellac then grabbed a few models of heavily armoured ponies with lances. “And have them charge your line of Pikeponies!”  As the set of miniatures moved, Raining Lead grinned from his side of the table. “I use my tactics card!” Lead then grabbed a single card from a deck of three he had sitting in front of him and flipped it over, showing a picture of a group of armoured ponies raising their spears towards the viewer.  Counter Charge! When charged by two or more enemy units, and you have two or more Pikeponies, the enemy player must make a Bravery Save before rolling to hit. On a failure you get to make a standard attack and the enemy player’s units automatically fail to hit. Once used remove this card from your tactics deck and into the discard pile. Now it was Shellac’s turn to smile as he levitated a small book, his Warmages’ spell book in fact. He quietly took his own tactics card and wordlessly flipped it into the air, showing a depiction of Starswirl the Bearded surrounded by an aura of brilliant magical light emitting from his horn. Masterful Intervention! When this card is used, your Warmages are allowed to cast any spell from their spell book as a reaction for the remainder of your turn, even against the enemy player’s tactics cards. Once used remove this card from your tactics deck and place it into the discard pile. “Uh oh, I think I can see where this is going.” Copper added, sitting on the side between the two “commanders,” taking a sip from his cup of tea. Shellac turned back to Raining with a smile that screamed “Gotcha!” as he spoke. “I have my Warmage cast Teleport and Iron Will.” The mentioned mini then glided behind the knights as Shellac rolled several dice, silently counting them up. He then looked over at a sheet that had stats for all the units and did more number crunching before finally delivering the result. “My knights hit all of your Pikeponies and I’m fairly certain they don’t have more than three hit points.” Raining hung his head in mild annoyance as he removed the three models from the board. Shellac’s knights now had a clear path to the objective in the middle of the map. However, that was the last of his pieces that still had actions, so now it was his turn. He examined what he had left, some archers on the side but they were no good, knights were too well armoured. He had some Sword Ponies, but they were too far away to reach them in time. Additionally, he’d already used his tactics card so he couldn’t pull any special moves until the next round. Thus, his gaze fell upon the set of undefended cannons he had on the far left of the map on a hill.  In a flash he suddenly had an idea, he looked at the one engineer model he had and remembered he’d used an ability to create a decoy of those cannons. An identical set of cannons was being threatened by Shellac’s own Pikeponies. If it weren’t for Raining’s Griffon Gladiators the cannons would’ve been taken.  Raining began to giggle as he reached for the stat sheet, “Hey Shell?” He turned to face him. “You know those cannons over there? The ones you were trying to get?” Shellac’s grin then faltered. “Yea?” Raining then reached out and lifted the models up, taking out a small blue piece of paper for Shellac to see. “Decoy!” “Wait…” Shell snapped to the cannons on the other side of the map. The sudden realisation hit him like a ball of iron. “That’s where you put your cannons?!” “Yep! Because why would I defend a decoy right?” Shellac planted his hooves on his head as Raining began to pick up the dice. “Wait! I have my Warmage cast Shield!”  Copper then leaned in and added to the mix. “Sorry Shell but you just had him cast three spells in one turn, that’s all he can do until the next round.” Shellac turned to the spell die he’d forgotten to adjust and pouted his lower lip. There was nothing he could do but pray and hope Raining got unlucky with his dice.  The eager colt threw them into a little wooden pot and began counting, Shellac’s hope was in vain as he sensed Lead’s confidence only growing. He looked up at him with a smile wide enough to fit a watermelon slice. “Hey Shell?” “Yea?” “You see the direction my cannons are pointing? I’m removing that direction, your knights all take twelve damage!”  “Which takes them all out…” Shellac sighed, slowly removing the models from the board. Copper took another sip from his cup only to see it was empty, he then stood up and left to brew another pot while the two kids worked to reset the board. With only a couple rounds left and no models Shellac could use to take back the objective, Raining would’ve won, doubly so given the cannons also took out his Warmage. “Good game though that was fun!” Raining exclaimed.  “You had fun because you won.” Shell pouted while glaring at the board.  “Oh come on, going all in like that with your Warmage got me pretty good.” “But you're good at the game, I’ve only just started!”  “Hey, hey, sure you're still learning but you're picking it up a lot faster than I did. I could barely remember any of the spells my Warmage had.” Shellac allowed a little pride to come back in at that, helping to move the models back into the box and reshuffle his card deck. “Heck I’d even say that was really smart of you.” “Thanks…you're not bad yourself either. I wasn't expecting you to guard your decoy, that had me fooled.” “You're welcome! Mum and Dad say I’m very mature for my age, do you know what that means?” Shellac fought to hold a snicker at that. “It means you think like an adult, I knew a lot of nymphs that had to grow up quickly.” “Oh? Like who?” “I’d rather not say, bad memories and all.” The conversation briefly halted, Raining silently kicking himself for bringing up bad memories for Shell.  “Okay! Sooooooo, what are you planning to pick next? I love using cannons and archers personally.” The shift seemed to work, as Shell’s excitement returned in full. “I’m not sure, I like using magic so I might grab a second Warmage, then again I also like the Knights.” Just then the sound of the front door opening shook both away from what they were doing. Shellac turned to the clock as the reception door began unlocking. “Is that your mom? It’s nowhere near five a clock.” The door creaked open and a familiar voice answered his question. “I’m back!” Gleaming walked forward past the door into the living room still wearing her coat as Copper joined them. “Work was closed so I went exploring instead.” The two then leaned in for a quick kiss before she drew her attention to Raining and Shellac. “Did you two have fun?” They both nodded in approval. “Well, get some coats on. I think it’s time you got some fresh air.” Raining looked at Shell with a little concern. “Can you do that…you know, that thing?” “Oh?...Oh! Yea sure.” Purple flames began to ignite at the base of Shellac’s form, quickly engulfing his body in a pyre of purple, flickering light. They dissipated just as fast revealing soft purple fur in place of hard, black chitin. A pair of feathered wings replaced the translucent insect like ones before and where a curved horn and fish like fin once stood, a two-toned mohawk like mane made of a dark purple and light orange now sprung. His eyes now like that of a pony’s with deep purple pupils, he smiled and looked all around him.  “Everypony, meet Thunder Chaser!” He announced, unfurling his wings in excitement. Raining happily waved a hoof while Gleaming giggled as Copper walked over and packed up the board game with his magic. Thunder could sense some mild frustration radiating from him and took it as a sign he wasn’t as joyful as the others.  “I guess he still doesn’t like me.” “Come on Thunder, you can borrow one of Raining’s spare coats.” Gold made her way back to reception and flipped through a few racks that hung just slightly above the floor. The two colts followed suit and began dressing themselves up for the cold weather outside.  Having spent most of his life not wearing much, Thunder had difficulty putting on his new apparel, even in spite of mimicking Raining’s measurements. This was especially true for trying to secure his boots and do up his buttons was a lot harder without magic.  Luckily for the changeling, Raining had him covered and helped him make sure nothing would fall off the moment he stepped outside. Raining himself, wore a wood brown fleece jacket and flat cap with a grey scarf while Thunder chose a light orange parka that matched his mane. Gold dawned another festive red scarf to contrast with her teal coat, Copper meanwhile threw on a matt black jacket and some boots and was ready. Together they flooded outside into the gentle snow and bright sunlight.