//------------------------------//
// Chapter 17 
// Story: Veil of the City 
// by BlueyWaifu 
//------------------------------//

Restel tilted his head with slight confusion. With what time he had stayed away, Faltic had to have told Cyril what's up by now. And, as previously thought, he wasn't intentionally intruding. Faltic and Cyril were supposed to be in the other room anyway.

"I uh, asked Faltic why he's in here? I came to grab Klaven's book and his good quill," Restel clarified.

Faltic was staring blankly at Restel. If he turned around to see Cyril, he felt as if he might die.

"Faltic? Faltic?!" Cyril's voice sounded from behind him. It was understandably angry. Slowly, Faltic did manage to turn his head, only to find Whimsy with a very frustrated scowl. A quick swirl of green flames washed over Faltic, and once they dissipated, Faltic was his natural changeling self. As weary as it may have looked, and sounded, Faltic tried to smile at the disguised Cyril and talk to her. "Hi, Cyril."

Cyril was silent, but her irate gaze fixated on Faltic drew enough meaning to know what she was thinking. Though, shortly after, Cyril's disguise of Whimsy vanished behind the same wisps of green flames, and out appeared Cyril. The real, changeling Cyril. Miraculously, her black hoodie and toboggan didn't catch the blaze.

She rubbed a hoof along her face. "I can't believe this. So... wait. Who is that then?" Cyril pointed across the room at Restel, who stood silently, still in his regular green earth pony disguise.

"That's-" Faltic began, but tensed up, cutting himself off when he heard the sound of a third shifting power being used. He knew that Restel had just reverted to his normal self, and everything he didn't want to happen was happening.

Faltic didn't have to finish his sentence, as Restel did for him. 

"Restel."

Once again, Cyril's hoof dragged along her face. She stood up, ignoring Faltic for the moment. "Oh my c-, you know you're not supposed to be here, right?"

Faltic watched as Restel's eyes flicked between him and Cyril. Again, his head tilted in confusion. "Oh, I know. I'm sorry to interrupt. I thought you two would be next door and that I wouldn't bother if I just came in here real quick to grab Klaven's stuff." Restel quickly stepped towards the nightstand where the two items in question lay.

"Ugh, no, not like that. As in, here, Manehattan, the invasion. You were never meant to participate, let alone go this far," Cyril explained.

Restel halted in his tracks, scrunching his brow. His head perked up and his ear twitched. "I... what? What're you talking about? I got a notice just like Faltic did. I had to."

Cyril shook her head in disagreement. "No. No you really shouldn't have. You're an essential to the Hive. I worked on those notices and you never should have gotten one. They were tampered, manipulated."

Restel hung his head and stared at the floor, mulling over Cyril's words. His lips moved, but no sound came out of his mouth. After an agonizing moment of slow realization, Restel picked his head back up, looking past Faltic at Cyril. "So... why am I here? How did that happen?"

Faltic felt a pang of pain hit him as Cyril pointed her hoof directly at him, her raised tone of voice drilling the truth into Restel's mind. "Ask him. I caught him one night coming out of the office after closing, with a notice in hoof, with your name on it. He is the reason you're here when you shouldn't be."

Faltic knew of Restel as a cheerful, optimistic changeling. He was grateful that he wasn't a dull, boring, overly brutish changeling like the others. Over the years, hardly had he ever seen that attitude wane. In this moment, however, no amount of mirth from the past, present, or future could be found in Restel's expression. What hurt worse was when Restel finally looked at Faltic since Cyril had begun explaining.

"Tell me that isn't true."

It sounded neutral, yet desperate. So desperately did Faltic want to say it wasn't true, but it was. Faltic held up his hooves in defense as all of the words came rushing out of his mouth. "It is, but I can explain, I promise. I just didn't want to be alone, I was nervous, scared, worried, I didn't want to not have you here, you're the best friend I've ever had an-"

Faltic's ears pinned to the back of his head as he was abruptly cut off by Restel sharply bringing his hoof up. "Zip it, shut up. Shut. Up. What? A best friend that... that drags me away from home, from taking care of my kin, just so you could have some entertainment? Some damn friend."

By the end of Restel's outburst, he was rubbing his eyes with the same hoof he'd cut Faltic off with, masking the welling of tears.

Faltic felt hopeless. If there was anything he could do or say, now was the time. It broke his heart to see such a joyous changeling be brought to his lowest. Furthermore, one that he had known most his life, and the fact that he was to blame for it.

"I didn't mean to drag you away. I just didn't want to be without my friend for so long. Please, Restel-"

Once again, Faltic was cut short by Restel's louder voice. "No! No please anything. I'm through with this. I'm through with you. I'm leaving, and don't even consider me your friend anymore, because mine just bastardized me like I'm a damn fool."

With that, Restel quickly shapeshifted back into his disguise, collected Klaven's quill and book, and made a swift exit, still wiping his eyes along the way. Faltic sat on the bed. His mouth worked, but no words called out to Restel as he watched him leave.

"I'm assuming Klaven is another changeling with you two?"

Cyril's voice caused Faltic to flinch slightly. He hoped he didn't look like he was about to shed some tears as he turned to look at her, only nodding in response. It was difficult not to. The sudden weight of the loss of years of camaraderie coming down all at once was not pleasant. Trying to conceal it, Faltic rubbed his eyes.

"Am I right to guess he's the one who got me that room?" Cyril asked.

Again, Faltic only nodded. Cyril stayed silent afterwards. Faltic decided to not let that silence take over. "He did get you it, but... I was the one who wanted it to happen the most, and proposed the idea. Klaven made it happen."

Faltic's sniffled, his resistance to the waterworks was fading.

"Well-" Cyril stood up, immediately beginning her way towards the door. "-I'm sorry this happened all at once, but it needed to happen."

"Wait-" Faltic blurted out, halting Cyril in her tracks. Faltic hesitated, not expecting to obtain her attention so fast. He sniffled again, rubbing his eyes once more. "I'm sorry to have brought you into this." Faltic hardly brought his head up to meet Cyril's gaze, and he spoke quietly.

Cyril turned her body to fully face Faltic. "It sounds more like you're just sorry that Restel found out about this." She drew a breath and sighed before continuing. "But, I can see why you'd say that. The whole time, I had no idea it was you."

Faltic's breathing became a little shaky as a tear ran down the side of his face. He kept his response short to make sure he didn't slip into his voice cracking. "I didn't either."

Surprisingly, Cyril hadn't stormed out of the room yet, as Faltic had expected. She was still here, paying Faltic attention, and having an actual conversation with him. At least, for now, he wasn't entirely alone.

"So when did you find me out?" Cyril simply asked.

Faltic stopped sitting up on the bed, and now laid down, curling up slightly and resting his chin on his forelegs. It didn't feel worth it to meet Cyril's eyes, instead opting to look at the floor. "It was after that convention thing. I saw you were there and I came over. You were insistent on me not walking you home, but I followed you anyway."

Cyril held a hoof to her chin. "You followed me... I thought I heard something before flying back that night."

Silence hung in the air for a moment. Faltic was growing skeptical. Though he didn't directly look at her, she was still here, and he didn't know why. Perhaps just to figure out his motives for the last near week of interaction.

Cyril spoke again to break the silence. "That must be why you started acting a bit different since then. Before that it was just for sustenance, after that was when you started trying."

As soon as Cyril finished her conclusion, Faltic's eyes perked up, finally meeting Cyril's. It seemed to catch Cyril off guard, since he had hardly looked her way for a minute. Faltic's brow scrunched as he spoke. "No. No it wasn't just for sustenance before I found out. I could never explain it, but Whimsy... you, were different than tricking a pony into affection. I became curious, and was genuinely committed. I have nothing but thanks for Klaven and Restel for helping out when they did. I wanted it to last, so I was really trying. Then I found out it was you and... yeah." Faltic's voice cracked at the end. He ducked his head in shame into his curled up forelegs once more, staring at the ground and trying to swallow the lump in his throat that wouldn't go away.

Cyril went silent again for a moment and looked away. Faltic's further explanation was settling in. She put a hoof on the toboggan, coming to rest right on top of where Faltic would perceive her ear to be. "Restel helped you out?"

Faltic hardly moved, but chuckled once before the only ounce of mirth it carried disappeared. "So much, he did. Wouldn't have had the confidence to be here now without him."

Faltic saw Cyril look at the door. There was no reason why she stuck around after everything came out. Faltic should be left alone, despite him not wanting to be. At the very least, Klaven was downstairs in the lobby.

"Does that include the time at scout training? I heard Pharynx chew Restel out, but I didn't know why."

Only Faltic's eyes moved as he looked over at Cyril. Her countenance hadn't changed, much less was she expressing anything other than annoyance for her situation. Faltic hated everything about that day, and what all transpired. He was a complete screw up both then and now. Sadly, it seems the past wouldn't be forgotten so easily. The recollection of the aforementioned past was difficult to bring up and talk about without having to clear his throat a time or two in order to speak clearly.

"Yeah well... Before that, him and I were talking about you. Restel was going to go try and ask Pharynx to partner us together. Us, being you and I. And then... that happened, and I hate myself for it." Another sniffle caught Faltic's nose as he wrapped up his explanation.

"Well..." Cyril's hoof that still lingered on her toboggan finally budged, and she brought her hoof back to the floor. The small movement from her captured Faltic's attention, as she'd mostly just been still and attentively listening this whole time. Faltic adjusted his head on his forelegs, now to lend Cyril his ears.

"Admittedly, I hated you too. I won't try to sound nice about it. This doesn't involve me anymore. This is between you and Restel," Cyril stated boldly, drilling her statements into Faltic's ears.

For the moment, Faltic and Cyril both blankly stared at each other.

Then, Faltic sighed. "I know. I'm still... sorry."

Cyril turned hoof, but didn't move yet. She pointed herself towards the direction of the door. If she was finally about to leave, she had stuck around far longer than Faltic would've imagined. "It's fine, but I'm not the subject of this anymore."

Faltic was quiet. Cyril was definitely right. If there was anything to salvage of him and Restel, Faltic had to do it himself. The first step would most likely be finding out where Restel went. But... more pessimistic thoughts became susceptible. Restel absolutely hated him, a thought he never wanted to be true. "Yeah... I know. I'll figure it out," Faltic glumly stated.

It didn't convey the same weight as watching Restel storm out, but when Cyril made her way to the door, some part of Faltic didn't want her to leave. Opening up his forelegs slightly, Faltic buried his face between them, hiding himself away, opting not to watch two changelings he cared about walking out on him. That, and it would be better not to have her see the more frequent tears that came from his eyes.

Faltic had to remind himself what she said.

Between me and Restel.

Cyril stopped at the door, pausing to shift herself back into Whimsy. Faltic's ear twitched as he heard the gentle sound of the flames washing over Cyril's body. However, unexpected as it was, Faltic didn't hear the door open quite yet, and heard Cyril's voice. "If it's any consolation, I hope it works out."

Faltic didn't move, and stayed with his head buried between his forelegs on the bed. Finally, the sound of the door opening and closing happened, solidifying that Faltic was alone now.

Silence filled the room. Faltic sighed into his small head space.

Why is it that every time I talk to her, it's trouble?

The thought crept in, as it was mostly true. First the scout training, then in the caves after forging a notice for Restel, then now.

It's trouble, but it's always been my fault.

Faltic remained curled up, not knowing much of what to do next. The only changeling that hadn't fully left him was Klaven, and Faltic could do with waiting a little bit before seeing him, just so Klaven doesn't see Faltic as a sobbing mess.

"Some friend."


*****


It didn't feel like minutes had passed. It felt like days had passed. Faltic stayed curled up in a pitiful display of sorrow, letting his mind wander and his tears stain the blankets of the bed. The world was still, and silent.

It was silent until Faltic heard a knock on the door, yanking him from his self pity.

Klaven...

That was the last changeling around who might still have business with him, so Faltic thought. It was odd that he would knock, rather than come straight in. Unless he forgot his keycard, which meant Faltic had to get up. Begrudgingly, Faltic managed to pry himself from the bed, meekly coming to all fours on the floor and wiping his face clear of any tears.

Faltic slowly made his way to the door, and looked through the peephole.

Nopony was there.

Faltic sighed, and quickly donned his Enthrall disguise before opening the door, lest some passerby were to see a changeling peeking.

Sticking his head out into the hallway, Faltic again didn't see anypony. His brow scrunched with confusion, second guessing if he even truly heard a knock to begin with.

Just before shutting the door, the floor caught Faltic's attention as he looked down. On the ground was a green flower, the same one he had given Cyril just moments ago. The soil that it rested in was darker than usual. It had been freshly watered.

Faltic quietly picked up the flower pot from the ground, and took it back into his room, closing the door behind him.