Chapter 19
Ancro had been obliged to take the test Twilight performed on him. It would be considered a basic check-up, at least, what he thought one would be like if he didn’t frequently forget to schedule them. The changeling hadn’t minded holding the form for the first thirty minutes. The next fifteen got a bit taxing. He also began to worry when Twilight had begun to run the same test on him again.
“Miss Sparkle?” Ancro asked, in a patient respectful tone as the unicorn took the tongue depressor out of his mouth. The changeling had gotten tired of trolling her, and now was interested in why she was checking his blood pressure again. “I’m getting a bit tired, and that’s the second time you’ve taken my blood pressure.”
“I’m seeing if it changes as you get lower on positive emotional magic gathered from your cohorts,” Twilight said absently.
“Hey, are we alone in here?” Ancro asked, scanning the room. He could’ve sworn that he felt somepony else in the room.
“Yes, we are,” She replied, not looking up from her notes. From what she had learned and put together when profiling Ancro and his friends, it was that he was not stupid enough to try to attack her. He was a bit cautious when cornered, but could easily be moved to take action if the situation proved itself. However, he didn’t have much in long term strategy. If he did attack, it would be to solve the crisis at hoof, and that’s only if he knew he had a chance.
“Can I beg to di-“
“Hey, Twilight! Hi, Ancro!” Pinkie Pie squealed as she popped from nowhere. The action made Twilight jump up and wrap her hooves around the light fixture. Ancro shook his restraints and his Twilight façade fell apart when the pink pony appeared from thin air.
“Hi Pinkie,” Ancro said, regaining his composure a bit faster than Twilight as she teleported herself down from the ceiling. “How have you been?”
“I’m great great great,” she said, as she bounced over to Ancro and stared him eerily in the eyes. “Twilight, have you found out how to tell changelings apart from real ponies yet? 'Cause I saw this one pony who looked real suspicious and was about to accuse them, then I remembered what happened with the MMMM.”
“No, I haven’t,” She replied before elaborating. “No notable changes in blood pressure, heart rate, brain waves, or anything physical while their energy supply depletes.”
“Well I... Drat,” Ancro replied, “guess I can go back to my room now?”
“No silly, Twilight has a whole list of other things for you to do,” Pinkie Pie said. “That’s why I’m here, I was supposed to come here and surprise you, and see if you could detect me.”
“I was expecting her to knock, and not just pop up,” Twilight replied.
“Well, I coulda told you that,” Ancro replied. “Detecting somepony based on their emotions is easy, however exactly pinpointing them can be hard, based on any number of things.”
“Really, like how?” Twilight asked, levitating some parchment and quills over to her.
---
“Dude, I’m bored,” Scott said, after having paced around the cell for the umpteenth time.
“Well, you could always read a bo-“ Stigandr started, then realized he was the only literate member of the group. “Or, we could work out?” Stigandr put a book mark in the book and set it down before hopping off the bed.
“Nah, Stigs,” The griffin said. He didn’t like to work out with him, it made him feel weak seeing Stigandr bury him like that physically. It especially hurt him when he came to Equestria, and realized Ancro was still ahead of him, and realized that unicorns were supposed to be physically the weakest. Also, realizing Ancro’s strength was relative to what form he took. He may have to stop swearing altogether if their little changeling figured out how to transform into that thing the praetorians had become.
“Well Scott, our options are pretty limited.” Stigandr said, “There’s not a lot we can do.”
“How about you teach me to read?” Scott said, out of desperation.
“Scott,” Stigandr said with a pause. “There are no basic books here for you to learn how to read.”
“Baaah!” The griffin scoffed, “We can figure something out. Hey, you want a punching bag right?”
“Yeah, a bit,” Stigandr replied, raising his eyebrow. He knew to be wary when Scott had ideas, and be ready to shoot them down. Not that all his ideas were bad. He sometimes, in fact, had very good ideas, it was just that they needed improvement.
“Then let’s grab one of those down mattresses, a few quilts, and roll it up like a fruit roll up and use it,” Scott said. At first Stigandr was going to worry about damaging stuff that wasn’t his, then he realized something. They could magically fix it in three seconds flat, most likely.
“That’s not a bad idea, Scott,” The unicorn said, walking over to his bed to get started.
“Wait wait wait,” Scott said, “Let’s use Ancro’s bed.”
“Why?” Stigandr asked, half chuckling.
“It will be a bit of payback for when you all broke into my house,” Scott said. “The wet willy was me getting back at you for doing that.”
Ancro went into every detail he had learned in past few weeks of being a changeling. Some things he glossed over as just being instinctual, and others he danced around because he didn’t even understand them himself. Pinkie Pie would draw out of the blue, comparisons that though insane, made sense, but still they distracted him in the middle of a long spill. So he came up with something to distract her.
“Pinkie,” Ancro said with a smile, getting the ponies attention. The mare looked up at him. “I have a riddle for you.”
“Really, what is it? I love riddles,” She asked, bouncing up and down eagerly.
“How is a raven like a writing desk?” Ancro asked. Other kids had Harry Potter to read, Ancro had Lewis Carroll. The changeling just hoped there was no equestrian comparison that they could read up on and realize it. Pinkie stopped bouncing and sat down, deep in thought. Twilight took this opportunity to keep the conversation going.
“So, how does a changeling find another changeling when they are disguised?” Twilight asked, leaning in close.
“Beats me,” Ancro said, shrugging. He thought back, had he even seen a changeling in disguise to draw a comparison on? All the ones he had seen were out of disguise. As far as he knew, there was no trick to decide who was a changeling and who wasn’t. He thought back to the episode and how the changelings had been tricked while in disguise. That’s when he realized it. “We honestly can’t.”
“You’re joking, right?” Twilight asked. “You mean to tell me you couldn’t pick a changeling in disguise out from a crowd?”
“Maybe the praetorians can, but as for the rest?” Ancro shrugged again, this time it was to mask the fact that he was just as defenseless against a changeling in disguise as everypony else, and frankly it terrified him. “You remember your fight in Canterlot. If the changelings had been able to tell each other apart, would Fluttershy had been able to trick them?”
“…No.” Twilight said, as she came to the realization that Ancro wasn’t lying.
“Maybe if I spent some time around the pony you suspect, I could figure something out,” he said, half sure. “Or ask their friends, family, loved ones if anything unusual has been happening with them. Honestly though, I do not know.”
“Well, you’re a lot of help,” Twilight said, rolling her eyes.
“Thank you, it comes with being perfect,” Ancro said with a smile. “So I’m a bit curious, why isn’t your brother here to make at least mild threats while I joke around with him?”
“He’s on leave,” Twilight said, sounding depressed. “He took some personal time after what happened in the sewers.”
“If beating me up made him fe-“
“He hit Cadence,” Twilight spat, with almost tangible effort. “While he was attacking you, she tried to get him off you, and he turned and hit her. I don’t know what to think, or what to do, or if I should talk to him or what.” Ancro sat there and politely nodded, and listened. He was used to having people back on earth spill their guts to him, even if he barely knew them. For example, he was taking someone’s order at Burger King once. He ended up hearing their entire life story. Ancro was just glad that it was a slow day. Hearing stuff like that cheered him up for some reason.
“Hey, I’ll help you any way I can,” Ancro said with a warm, friendly smile. Yes, he liked to troll, but would bend over backwards for people at the end of the day. “First, I’m going to need a few things.”
Shining Armor had spent his second day off walking through the sculpture garden. He kept wracking his mind looking for a way to make things right. Nothing could. He had failed with what his cutie mark had stood for, his oath to protect the princesses and, worst of all, his oath to protect his wife. Twilight had explained once during her studies that time travel spells could only be used to cause events that have already happened. Meaning you cannot change the past, only cause it. Even if he could change it, he doubted that it would alleviate his guilt.
He wanted to blame Ancro so much, but he knew that it wasn’t the changeling’s fault. Ancro’s magic was weak and he couldn’t even fight back. The changeling was already unconscious. Why didn’t he surrender, why did he fight? If he hadn’t fought back, none of this would’ve happened. 'Yes, it would’ve,' a voice in the back of his head told himself. ‘You wanted to hurt Ancro. You believed him to be responsible for killing several of the prison guards... Kidnapping your wife and endangering your sister.’ Shining Armor shook his head. He couldn’t possibly be trying to justify losing control like that, could he? That’s not what royal guards do, especially the captain... For however much longer he held the title.
He knew both Celestia and Luna were disappointed. He felt as though his every action and move was closely scrutinized by everypony, like they were told to report back the second that he seemed unfit for command. He honestly didn’t care. He found some light humor in wondering who the princesses would replace him with. The he looked up and saw her on the balcony. He wanted to die then and there. Her eye was still black. It looked like she had been crying. He hoped she hadn’t seen him, and pointed his head at the ground and kept walking.
Ancro was skipping a bit as he was escorted back to his room by Twilight, Pinkie Pie, and several of their armored friends with affinities for the sharp and pointy. He had the mild headache that typically came with overload, but that didn’t kill his mood. He had front row tickets as Pinkie Pie made futile guesses at the riddle. Under her breath of course, she wasn’t going to spoil the riddle by blindly guessing until she got it right. ‘Good luck’, Ancro thought. He wasn’t sure how long it would keep her occupied, but watching her struggle was pretty funny. It even got Twilight interested.
“So, what is the answer to the riddle?” Twilight asked, as they neared the heavily guarded doors.
“Spoilers,” Ancro replied with a teasing tone. The changeling adjusted his ensemble. Pinkie Pie was the greatest gift-giver ever. “How do I look?”
“Like an annoying changeling,” Twilight responded, a hint of her past ire towards him returning. He had gotten absolutely no love from her, and only a smidgen from Pinkie. He assumed that this would pass.
“Funny, I thought I was perfect,” Ancro said in a tone that you couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic or serious. It made Twilight want to buck him into a wall. Pinkie Pie was too busy drawing a venn diagram to notice. “Pinkie, wait out here please?”
To everypony’s surprise, there was a distant nod as she stared intently at her diagram. For a moment, Ancro was worried that he had broken her. Twilight opened the door, and Ancro made the brief journey through the light, after Twilight had already gone through. He was so excited, he had a major surprise for his friends.
“What in the name of Celestia are you doing?” Twilight shouted, as she tried to make sense of the scene in front of her. Ancro followed through, and he had to laugh at the absurdity of the situation.
It looked someone had exploded a flock of geese. White feathers lay everywhere. He watched as Scott and Stigs desperately tried to restuff the mattress.
“Yeah, keep laughing Ancro, this is your mattress,” Scott sneered. Ancro calmly walked over to Scott and put a hoof on his shoulder.
“No, my fine feathered friend,” Ancro said with a smile on his face and light blue fez on his head, “It’s yours.” The changeling bolted to the door to the griffon’s room.
“Oh, like hell,” Scott roared as he took off after the changeling.
“They do this often?” Twilight asked, as the sounds of a struggle permeated through the walls.
“Not as often as Ancro would like,” Stigandr said. “Ancro usually goes out of his way to get Scott a bit riled up. So he’ll actually do something.”
“What about you?” She asked, “Does he try to get under your skin?”
“A few times, yeah,” Stigandr chuckled, “one time when we were hanging out, I was taking a quiz and asked out loud, ‘what is your reaction to being slapped in the face?’ Ancro came up and slapped me in the face.”
“So, what was your reaction?” Twilight asked curiously.
“Almost decked him,” Stigs stated. “So I’m guessing you’re going to want to interview me now, right?”
“Well, if you don’t mind.” She had to speak over Scott’s naturally loud voice and his prolific swearing. “Personally. I’d rather deal with you than Scott.”
“Wait, Ancro, wait, wait, wait!” Scott said, his voice turning into more of a shrill shriek as the changeling punched the griffon repeatedly in the kidneys. Ancro could take a joke, hence why he had been holding the griffon’s bed hostage, and wasn’t going to steal it or destroy it. But then Scott had to take it one step further. He took his fez and was holding it out of reach of the changeling. In order to keep his prize, he had to dart around the room trying to stay one step ahead of Ancro. Finally, when Ancro caught him, he tucked the hat up close to him and curled into a ball.
Instead of being rational and trying to wrestle the hat back through his wings and legs, the changeling opted instead to take some kidney shots at the griffon, until Scott at last yielded the hat. Ancro turned around to leave, but found himself pounced upon by the griffon and the brawl began again.
“We need to be even!” Scott whined, as he tried to land a punch on Ancro.
“We are!” Ancro argued, as they tumbled around. “You destroyed my bed and stole my fez, I punch you in the kidneys several times.” Finally Ancro got Scott off of him, “besides, I heal quickly, you cannot really do much to me.”
“I’ll find a way,” Scott said, with a menacing smile. The response to which, was Ancro just made the head motion to roll his eyes... Since his eyes had no visible pupils. Ancro walked into his room and found the mattress had been fixed. Ancro smacked himself for forgetting it was a quick fix with magic. There was also a note written and left by the door that led out of the room. Ancro picked it up the set it down. “Damn it Stigs, I can’t read cursive. Scott come in here!”
“What is it? I’m making sure I don’t pee red blood from those punches!” The griffon shouted back. Ancro face-hoofed, the easiest way for Scott to get back at him was to go into too much detail. The changeling waited until he heard the flush, then passed the note to Scott when he walked into the room. Judging by the look of relief on his face, he was intending to help Ancro clean up. The changeling gave Scott the one word explanation, then handed him the note.
“Ancro, I can’t read pony,” Scott said as he looked at the note.
“Well, damn.” Ancro said, “Guess he went to get interviewed.”
There was a pause after that statement. “So, you don’t miss your family?” Scott asked, much to Ancro’s surprise.
“Of course I do,” Ancro replied. “As I’m sure Stigandr misses his, and I know you miss yours... Why else would you want to leave a veritable Utopia?”
“Well dude, from what I’ve seen it’s not that perfect,” Scott replied. “Besides, it’s from a little girls' show!”
“I said veritable, meaning it’s nearly perfect.” Ancro replied, “besides, we don’t know how time is passing here compared to earth. It could be at the same rate, double time, or half time. There’s no way of knowing.”
“Well, so far you're 0-2 on theories.” Scott replied, “We didn’t break the universe when we met the mane 6, and we weren’t able to find the book.”
“Oh!” Ancro exclaimed, “I completely forgot to mention that.”
“Mention what?” The griffin said, raising his eyebrow.
“There is no such magic,” Ancro said plainly, “Celestia told me herself it has been lost since the days of Discord.”
Scott gave this a few moments thought, then spoke up nervously. “Ancro, according to that logic, then our only way home is by…”
“I know.” Ancro said, feeling as though a weight was on his shoulders.
“Can’t we, you know, like, trick him?” Scott said earnestly, after noticing his friends depression. Ancro felt that Scott was genuinely trying to help.
“Discord is a lot of things... Sadistic, insane, arrogant, but he is not stupid. Not by a long shot.” Ancro said, “The first thing he would do, would be to either send us home, or kill us.” Scott’s gulp was audible as he quickly scrapped whatever plan he was thinking of. He may want to get home, but he wasn’t going to sell out anyone or... *sigh*... anypony, to do it. Besides, as Ancro said, the place was very near to Utopia.
The thirty praetorians made camp at the base of the mountain that supported the city of Canterlot. There, they waited, disciplined and patient, for the next night to come when they would carry out their plans. It followed the same principle of all the other changeling plans. Steal an identity, complete the mission, tie up loose ends, if necessary. Often times, that was the most fun they had. This time though, time was a factor and it had frustrated several of the praetorians.
Duo sat around the green fire as praetorians from the other decena swapped stories. He heard stories about praetorians leaving families dead, broken, insane. To him, it was not unnatural to hear the stories of a changeling who had relished in destroying a family or somepony’s confidence. This was all natural to him. What wasn’t, though, was the level with which his fellow praetorians had turned it into an art. His now deceased friend used to tell a story about how he left a young mare psychologically broken after he had impersonated her long lost father. These put that story to shame. The changeling that had mentioned Una before they left the city told one of how, after months of impersonating a father, took the family down to the cellar to see the real father trapped in a cocoon. He then told in graphic detail about how he tortured the family, starting with the foals, leaving them alive only long enough to see the look on their faces when they realized that they had become orphans. He said it was the best dessert ever. Duo continued to gather mental fortitude for what he knew would be his hazing. He had seen the commander looking over from his meeting with the other two decena leaders. The commander’s all too present smile told him what he had known since his assignment.
He was going to have to kill his sister. Not that he wanted to. His sister had been the one to have him make the final nudge and join the praetorians. Even his family’s history within the praetorians, and the perks hadn’t been enough for him to take the plunge. She encouraged him, she didn’t lie, told him it would be brutal, but the power and the privilege far outweighed the risks. The station their parents possessed was proof enough of that. He walked into the barracks that afternoon.
Initiates died in training duels, sometimes. They were killed outside of training by a changeling who didn’t want to risk losing to them in a fair fight. It was expected, in a real fight anything goes. So why not carry it over during the whole five months of training? It made perfect sense, toughened them up, you never knew who you could trust. The important rule was to not get caught. He honestly expected his friend to try something similar to that, rather than face him in a fair fight. He had actually begun to wish he had.
He froze; remorse wasn’t something changelings felt often, especially praetorians. He glanced around nervously, hoping none of his compatriots had felt it. If they had, they didn’t show it or didn’t care, or they knew what they were about to do to him was far worse. If he failed, what they would do would be worse than he could ever imagine in his deepest nightmares.
---
Firecracker had come back to the café again. The meal she had yesterday was great, and she had to admit the pegasus that flirted with her was kind of cute. Even though she was sure the only reason he was flirting with her, was because she looked like Spitfire and wanted a tip. She chuckled to herself. It wouldn’t be the first time it happened.
Specs felt her brother's nervousness as Firecracker walked into the restaurant. “Do you want some help?” She finally asked, knowing he would never ask himself.
“Please,” he whimpered. “I have no idea what I’m doing!”
“Fine, just calm down before you break your façade,” she replied. She put her hoof on her chin in thought. Then an idea came to her. “Hey, she looks a lot like Spitfire right?”
“Yeah, but she hates to be reminded of that,”
“Well, what if the real Spitfire happened to walk into the restaurant as well,” she replied, “and you were kind enough to be the only one that calmed down everypony, freaking out about changelings and such.”
“Yeah, but why would the real Spitfire-“ Shift then put together the rest of her plan. “Do you think it will work?”
“One way to find out,” she shrugged, before walking up to one of the other changelings and telling them what was about to happen.
(Thanks to Sara for doing the title and editing (shaya.laperro@gmail.com) Sorry about the delay. Between school and my dad’s car wreck (He’s doing much better, still going to be in the hospital for at least two more weeks.) I’ve been very busy. As usual feedback is always appreciated and if you fav it like it. I’m also going to be posting revised chapters no major changes just going to be covering some minor plot holes. Also been busy writing a story for a contest.)