My Little Changeling -- "I" is Magic

by Wing Dancer


Time Is All We (Don't) Have

A Pegasus guard burst into Celestia’s throne room, galloping past the ornate glass windows depicting the heroes and events of Equestria’s history.

The regal pony stopped writing something on a piece of parchment and focused her sore eyes on the newcomer. She wasn’t sleeping well during the previous week, so it took some time for her to make out who actually came in.

“My Princess! I bring news from the northern border!” said the winded Pegasus, dropping to one knee in front of his goddess. “One of our troops came back, gravely wounded. He said his name was Silverline and that he had vital information for you, my Princess.”

Celestia’s heart didn’t know if it should leap or sink. Silverline made it back, she thought, but alone and in bad shape. But is it really him? Could it be a changeling? Will I be able to tell?

“My Princess! The soldier is in no shape to make the trip to Canterlot, and he refuses to pass the information to us. What are your orders?” repeated the guardspony, trying not to notice his ruler bite her lip.

“Yes, orders. Prepare the carriage! We are leaving for the northern border forts in half an hour!” said Celestia in an unnecessarily raised voice. Before the guard could even salute, she added: “We’re taking another pony with us. Make sure there is enough room for me, him and the wounded soldier.”

“Yes ma’am!” saluted the soldier and dashed out of the chamber.

The sun goddess looked absent-mindedly at the report she was writing up. After a few moments she crushed it in her telekinetic grasp and took one last look around the empty room. Satisfied, she lit her horn with golden energy, enveloping herself in a silky-like cocoon. With a bright flash, the ruler of Equestria vanished.

* * *

Chip was blissfully rolling around on the floor, enjoying the scratchy surface that worked miracles on his thick and extremely itchy carapace. Changelings were heavily armored by nature, but what they had in protection they lacked in comfort. Sometimes, a pebble would get stuck between the plates, or the skin under the carapace got stingy, and there was no way to scratch. The best way he and his people could think up (which was a great feat in itself, considering the nature of the hive mind) was grinding against jagged surfaces in the hopes of stimulating the skin underneath. Sometimes it worked, but more often than not the scratching changeling would manage to damage his chitin or dislodge it completely…which wasn’t too bad either.

The stallion was in a worse situation than most though. His abnormal growth made him develop an even thicker protective layer, and having it grow back was too much pain compared to gain. With nothing else to do though, Chip kept rolling around the floor, tiny pricks of relief showering his back and stomach.

At one point, he could swear that he hit something. A thump and surprised yelp was proof enough that indeed something noisy has been poked. Upon stopping, Chip noticed Celestia on the floor, a small thread of blood by the side of her lip.

“Oh sweet Sun, I am so sorry Princess!” yelped Chip, gathering himself up from the floor and helping Celestia stand. “I totally didn’t see you there, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to do it! You weren’t supposed to come here this early anyway, so you can’t blame me for what happened! I mean, you can, you are the ruler of all Equestria, you can have me hanged right here and now-”

“Chip, be silent for a second,” said the regal mare, checking her snout and making sure it wasn't not broken. Whatever the changeling was doing, it felt like a cannonball just hit her knees. Luckily nothing seemed to be broken, only sore. “We’re going on a trip today. I need you for a very important mission.”

“Oh! Me? Really? Important mission!” gasped Chip, childish glee on his muzzle. In his eyes, he would finally be of actual use of the Princess. He would get to be used, like any good tool does! And the mission was important, and Celestia went to him to ask for help!

“Settle down and listen,” calmly said Celestia. “We are going to the northern borders, where a good friend of mine was doing a very important thing for me. I need you to tell me whether or not he indeed is my friend.”

“Why? I don’t know your friend, Princess,” said Chip, cocking his head slightly. The cogs in his brain, rusty from hardly any use, gave a pained groan as they were brought to life. “Oh. Wait, you mean…you mean you think he could be-”

“Yes, exactly. I will need you to tell me whether or not he is a changeling. Or under their control. That friend of mine has something to tell me, and I must be one hundred percent sure he is telling the truth and is still loyal to me.”

“I will not disappoint you, my Princess,” said Chip, bowing deeply. He could not help but smile – the Princess needed him, more than anypony else! And by all the gods, suns, moons and other stuff ponies worshiped, he would not fail.

* * *

The trip wasn’t exciting or particularly long. The pegasi that pulled the carriage were fast and strong, unburdened by the usual golden armor they wore. Time was essential, as it was not certain how long and if the soldier, Silverline, would last.

Princess Celestia discreetly kicked Chip in the flank when the changeling asked about him, a clear sign it was way too secret to talk about in the open. The stallion was proud of himself for understanding such a subtle gesture – it meant that his mind was now more at ease with pony ways of thinking, embracing that which kind of felt alien during the whole mess with mind trading with Twilight.

When the couple finally arrived at their destination, the Princess wasted no time and barked out orders in a manner the colt never saw before. She was decisive, fast, and truly regal. Even Queen Chrysalis seemed less daunting than this new face of Celestia that Chip witnessed. The soldiers around obeyed every single command, opening doors, scrambling to show her the way or briefing her on the soldier’s condition.

Almost running the party with the sun goddess in the center entered a makeshift operating room, one in which the stench of blood was thick and many strange medical apparatus lay on different tables. In the midst of it all was a silver-maned unicorn, hooked up to some beeping machines. His mouth was sealed by a tube that connected with a mechanism that seemed to piston air in and out of his lungs.

The scene struck a note of compassion deep within Chip, making him want to help – it was overpowered however by the joy of experiencing such a motion towards another pony. The guards around did their best to ignore the stallion’s wide smile.

“How is he?” asked Celestia, addressing an earth pony wearing a white jacket with crimson stains on it.

“Stable, but very weak. We have no idea what got him, some of the wounds he has I have never seen before in my life. I don’t think that even a Manticore could mangle a pony in such a way.”

With a single flick of her hoof, Celestia caused the entire room to just stand up and leave, save for the patient on the bed. It was amazing how the mare was on top of things.

Chip’s thoughts and budding feelings were smashed by the mare’s voice: “Check him. Take as much time as you need. Don’t hold back on anything. I’ll lock the doors.”

“Y-Yes, my Princess!” barked the changeling, deciding to ask Celestia about her amazing leadership skills later. Right now, he had an important task to attend to.

* * *

The wounds were no doubt made by changelings. The bite marks, specifically shaped bruises, a barely feelable aura of emotions beneath an ocean of apathy. And of course, the smell. Chip could tell that the soldier was captured and put into the green goo. That usually spelled doom for a pony, either by changing him into a renewable food source or just leaving him to die and rot away.

How did this one manage to escape? Was it even possible? Well, he was a unicorn. Chip did not know the true extent of his magical abilities, and his general knowledge about pony magic was sparse. Maybe a spell was capable of melting the prison away, allowing for escape?

Okay, so even if he did manage to break his binds, he would have to escape from the nest of one of the most skilled hunters and predators in the northern lands. His state suggested he fought valiantly, but most of that had to be clever running, teleportation and deceit. Changelings didn’t usually let go of their prey – Chrysalis had little regard for drones and tended to make games out of stalking her victims. Maybe this time she underestimated the pony and he managed to slip away?

If so, he would still be pursued no matter what. But if he made it here, would Chrysalis be desperate enough to blow her cover and tackle a fort full of ponies? She could, no doubts about that. She could replace everypony without anypony actually noticing. Anypony except Chip.

So she would not risk being found out, now that she knew Chip was with the ponies. She would also not risk secreting in a controlled spy, any changeling could tell the symptoms of possession with a single glance. It was a bit harder if the pony was possessed for a longer time, but still possible – lack of appetite, frequent overexcitement, feverish defense of the changeling that controlled the pony were just a few of the many subtle hints of mind control.

“My Princess,” finally said Chip, opening his eyes and raising his head from above the stallion he was inspecting. “This is definitely a pony, and I am sure he was captured. Somehow, I don’t know how, he managed to run away and show up here. Now, I can’t tell if he is possessed or not until he will be conscious. Shall we wait here?”

“No,” calmly replied the Princess, opening the door. “We will have him wake up. This is too important to wait.”

* * *

The field medic tried resisting the goddesses orders, but in the end he was talked down and had to wake his patient. Chip felt the disapproval seeping from him, an unjust emotion considering how the Princess herself was feeling. She was devastated that her friend was in such a state and that she had to put more pain on top of an already large plate of agony.

Slowly, Silverline opened his bloodshot eyes. His gaze was unfocused and he was fidgeting weakly in his bed. As the tube from his mouth got retracted, he coughed wetly, each contraction apparently very painful. Chip wished he couldn’t smell the stallion’s feelings right now.

“Silverline, I’m sorry,” started the Princess, sending Chip to guard the doors. A single tear rolled down her muzzle and stopped on the tip of her nose. “Where are the others?”

The soldier tried to speak but ended up coughing again, spitting some blood over Celestia’s coat. When he settled down, he let go a whisper. A single word. “Gone.”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have sent you there. It was foolish, so very foolish,” said the Princess, unable to stop her voice from trembling and breaking. She was the decisive ruler no more. The mare turned into somepony full of regret and compassion for the loyal subject she unwittingly sent to his near-death.

“No,” whispered the stallion, closing his eyes and pressing his lips together. He was shivering all over, the medication that kept him asleep giving way to a rush of pain from every part of his body. “Necessary.”

“We could have prepared more. I acted too soon. I wanted too much too fast. We could have gone about this another way,” lamented the Princess, her eyes wandering between the blood stained surgical trinkets and Silverline.

“No. Doesn’t matter,” hissed the soldier. He was still in great pain, but something in his scent changed to Chip. Determination started overpowering the dread he felt, a force of will so strong it nearly impressed the changeling. With that kind of mental constitution, was it possible for a changeling to charm somepony?

“Princess. You were right. They are there,” said the soldier, each sentence paid in cough attacks and hisses of pain. “Lots. They are preparing. Heard plans. Will start soon. One by one, replace ponies. Like a tide. From the north.”

After the last word, the soldier’s eyes unexpectedly escaped to the back of his skull and he fainted. Strange red foam bubbled up from his mouth.

“Doctor!” yelled the Princess, shoving Chip aside.

* * *

“He’s stable, Princess,” reported the field medic, wiping his hooves into a red and soggy napkin. “His recovery will be a long and difficult one. He’s a strong pony though, I’m nearly certain he’ll make it through.”

“Thank you, doctor. Please, accept my sincerest apologies,” said Celestia, giving a slight bow to the surprised pony.

Chip was still impressed with Celestia. Apparently she could switch between benevolent ruler and full out dominatrix mode easier than he could switch skins. She adapted to the situation and acted according to her best judgment, even while it conflicted with her emotions.

The two ponies talked more about the soldier and providing him with better medical care and equipment, but Chip wasn’t exactly listening. What bothered him were the words that Silverline spoke. About an invasion. And soon.

His brothers and sisters would be here. Controlled by Chrysalis, his mother and Queen.

During that time with the assassin, he was nearly felled because of his conflicting emotions.

Would he manage to find it in himself to fight his kin again? Were these ponies more his family than the changelings that he shared blood with?

And most importantly – was Silverline even speaking the truth?