//------------------------------//
// The Psychology of an Entomologist 
// Story: Prodigy 
// by Sable Tails 
//------------------------------//

	“Orion’s bulging biceps, Major. What’d you do to him?”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Swirl! I don’t what’s wrong with him…he just starting getting sicker and sicker!”
Stasis tried to tell them to stop talking so loud, it was hurting his head, but it came out as more of a gurgle.
“How’d this happen, lad? Tell me from the beginning.”
“Well…he was acting kind of grouchy at first, and was complaining a lot, but after we had visited the pastry shop and the grocer’s he started acting kind of…funny. He told Crimson that she looked like a giant turkey basted in hot chili oil and he kept trying to nibble on her leg, and then when we went to see Mr. Toad, he pointed at Mr. Toad’s cutie-mark and just started laughing and laughing, and he wouldn’t stop!”
There was the tell-tale sound of a beard being stroked. “What’s his symptoms?”
“Well, by the time we got to the post office, he was starting to get kind of sweaty. Then he started shivering a bit, and said that he had a headache. By the time we got here, I was having to drag him! Did you know that his mane tastes funny?”
“Can’t say that I did, lad.”
“Yeah…I don’t think that he washes it as much as he should.”
There was a sniffing sound.
“Stars above…what’s he been eating?”
“Well…Mr. Strudel gave us a whole bag of cookies, and Mr. Basily told Stasis that he could have as many peppermint sticks as he could carry, which turned out to be a lot! Also, after I got Stasis to let go of her, Crimson gave us some bon-bons, and Mr. Toad gave us a few salt blocks to lick on the way home.”
“He ate all of it, didn’t he?”
“Uh…yeah. I told him he should save some for later, but he said that moderation was for the weak and indecisive….”
There was a chuckle. “Ha! Well, if all those ponies were planning to finally do him in, I guess this is one way to go about it. Seems a little roundabout, though…if it’d been me, I would’ve used one of those monkey traps. Not sure if it works on hooves, though…hmm….”
Stasis tried to curse the treacherous old wizard, but it came out as more of a series of burbles and feeble hisses.
“I don’t think that they were trying to hurt him, Mr. Swirl. They were…hey! Did you know that Stasis got his cutie-mark today?” Major asked, suddenly excited.
“Oh? That so?”
“Yeah! Look!”
Stasis felt one of his sprawled hindlegs pushed to the side, revealing his marked rump.
“By my beard…so he did!” Star Swirl exclaimed. “And you’re sure that it’s his own mark? There ain’t no poor blank-flank running around, wondering where his special talent ran off to, now is there?”
“Well…I’m pretty sure,” Major said, suddenly sounding less-than-sure. “I mean, it doesn’t look like any mark a normal pony would have, so I figured it must be Stasis’.”
“Hmm…you have a point there, lad,” Star Swirl conceded. “Still, I hear the best way to tell if a cutie-mark is real is to give it a good, strong slap, hard as you can. Maybe a few times, just to be sure he didn’t glue it on there or anything.”
Stasis tried to flee, but all he succeeded in doing was wriggle around in place a bit. He figured that if he could just manage to roll over onto his bloated belly, he’d probably end up puking all over everypony’s hooves. That’d serve them right.
“Maybe when he’s feeling better,” Major allowed. “But right now, could you please use a spell and fix him? There’s still lots of ponies in town who we’ve got to show his new mark to.”
“Lad, there’s not magic enough in the world to fix the problems this one’s got,” Star Swirl said sadly. “Still, I reckon he’ll make a full recovery from this here sugar-high. Or else he’ll probably die. I’m a magician, not a doctor.”
“…If he dies, can you bring him back?”
“Goodness…what do the two of you think I am, a bloody witch-doctor? I’m just trying to solve the mysteries of time and space here, not bring about the zombie apocalypse!”
“Stasis says that he wants to be a vampony lord, not a zombie,” Major corrected.
“He already likes to prowl around at night, he bites, and he has a strange dislike for holy symbols. I’m not sure what he thinks he’s going to get by becoming a vampony.”
Power! More power!
“Anyway…hmm…I suppose that we’re going to have to have a party for the lad, seeing as how he’s all cutie’d-up now.”
“Wow! A party! Can I come? And Goldie too?”
“She’s the pretty little white lass, eh? Considering the kinds of things Stasis has had to say about her, I reckon she must be a fine, upstanding young mare.”
“Oh, yeah, Goldie’s the greatest, except for maybe Abra,” Major claimed. “She doesn’t like Stasis very much right now, but I think that that’s just because he’s mean to her all the time. I figure since she’s my friend, and he’s my friend, then they’re both friends to each other too, even if they don’t know it yet.”
“Friends by proxy, eh? Clever lad,” Star Swirl said affectionately. “Anyhow, when the time comes, I reckon you can invite Goldie, Abra, and anypony else you want to. Maybe if we pretend that he’s not an antisocial little devil, the gods of child-rearing will hear and make our wish come true. None of the arcane rituals, blood rites, and naked prancing-about-the-fire that I’ve been doing seems to have gotten their attention, anyway.”
“My dad says that good ponies don’t join crazy cults,” Major responded.
“Only desperate ones,” Star Swirl replied. “Anyhow, feel free to invite all your friends from the play, along with their parents. The more the merrier, I reckon.”
“Okay!” Major said happily. “But…wait. Stasis doesn’t really like other ponies very much….”
“Ha! As if he has a say in any of this. Did he tell you that I never had a cute-ceanara?”
“No! That’s terrible!”
“Aye. So since he’s happy to waste his childhood on wild living and sugar binges, I reckon he can’t complain if I relive the missed moments of my own youth vicariously through him every chance I get. Besides, he doesn’t really mind. Do you, lad?”
Gurgle! Gurgle!
“See? It’s fine.”
“Alright! When are we having the party? Where? Will there be games?”
A laugh. “Hold your horses there, lad. We’ll hammer out the details later. Right now, I think that we should probably get the other lad here up off the floor. Stasis? Can you stand?”
The civil war raged on in his stomach, tissue fighting tissue in internecine tragedy, the slaughter threatening to spill over into his gullet and drown them all at any moment. Rebels had already made their way into his inner sanctum; even now, he could feel their malicious sabotage, his head pounding as he fought the weariness slowly overtaking him. His eyes and ears, too, chafed at the yoke, returning all sensation as pain even as his lower gut rumbled with signs of the suffering yet to come. Desperate, he called to his distant limbs for aid, to no response. He could only assume the worst.
This was all the ponies’ fault. Accursed herbivores and their accursed sugar-sticks. If they’d allowed him even a miserly allowance of real food, a few minnows or but a single hummingbird, his body would not now lie here, in the throes of blackest insurrection. Instead, he would die here, all alone on this pony floor that felt like it had not been swept in ages, and Star Swirl would realize that he had actually been a little changeling all along, and his body would be used in all kinds of horrible ways for science….
He was young…so young….
“I’m going to take that as a ‘no.’ Well, I reckon I’m going to haul him off to bed. If he’s still alive tomorrow, I’ll give him the day off from chores so that the two of you can play. And if he’s not, well…I reckon you can have his stuff.”
Even as consciousness slipped away from him, Stasis resolved to live on. He wouldn’t give Star Swirl the satisfaction.

*	*	*

Stasis awoke to the feel of water dripping on his forehead. Drip, drip, drip. Drip, drip, drip. There was a truly extraordinary amount of dripping going on for what felt like his bed. Either there was a silent rainstorm invading through an invisible hole in his bedroom ceiling….
…Or else there were wizards afoot.
“What are you doing?” he asked, not yet bothering to open his eyes.
“Just an experiment or two, lad. As I’ve told you before, it’s been quite a while since I had anypony to test my ideas on, and I’ve got a bit of a backlog. Hold still, will you?”
Stasis rolled out of bed in a swift, practiced motion. Opening his eyes, he saw Star Swirl standing there, horn aglow while what looked like a valve attached to a canister of water hovered over Stasis’ bed, still dripping.
“Why do you always do these things while I’m trying to sleep?” Stasis demanded shrilly. “What is wrong with you?”
“When you’ve got your own place, lad, you can decide what experiments to perform on yourself.”
“You’re an evil, wicked wizard,” Stasis accused, jabbing one hoof at his caped tormentor. “And not the fun kind.”
“Oh, hush, lad. I figure this is the least you can do to make up for that bottomless pit of yours. I swear, every time I see the potater-monger these days, he gets this huge smile on his face like all his birthdays did come at once. Has this big, fancy new carriage that his sons pull him and the missus around in sometimes, and when he’s passing me by, he just starts laughing and laughing and laughing. Cheeky gouger.”
“Why can’t I live with him instead?” Stasis pondered aloud.
“Don’t think I haven’t thought about it, lad. When I’m lugging the goods home, I imagine his face after a month of you living in his larder, and I start to laugh.”
Stasis narrowed his eyes. “I think that deep down inside, you realize that you’re a terrible, heartless pony, and that’s why you eat all that celery and other green garbage. It’s some kind of self-flagellatory response to your recognizance of your own lack of self-worth,” he suggested.
Star Swirl snorted. “Don’t think I don’t know that you read those psychology books just to bug me, lad. I know. You’re doing a good job of it, too.”
Stasis smiled. “You could forbid me from reading them,” he offered.
Star Swirl cocked an eyebrow. “Oh ho ho! You’d like that, wouldn’t you? You’d just love for me to forbid you reading any kind of book at all, just so you could sneak it up to your room at night and read it under the covers by hornlight, snickering at ol’ Star Swirl’s hubris. Oh, don’t look so surprised. I’ve figured out all your twisted little games, lad. The way you fluff up the leaves in your salad so it looks like you’re eating an entire bowl when it’s really only half that. The way you suddenly start asking me questions about the laws of magical propagation through the aether whenever I’m straightening up the workshop, because you think that’ll make me forget to ask you for help. The way you schedule all your weekend dalliances with Major during the hours you think I’m most likely to ask you to clean your room or cut the lawn. I know all your tricks.”
“But…those aren’t ‘tricks!’” Stasis protested. “I worked hard on those. I even ‘experiment’ and everything!”
Star Swirl gave a sardonic grin. “So you do, lad. I reckon it’s hard to accuse you of being lazy when you work so hard trying to get out of work.”
Stasis nodded. He had been accused of many things by ponies and changelings alike, but never laziness. There was always wickedry to be done.
“Alright, well, you won’t be getting out of helping me with dinner tonight, lad. Come along.”
Stasis frowned. “It’s dinner already?”
Star Swirl nodded. “Aye, that was one heck of a sugar-coma, lad. Lesser children would be diabetic after a bender like that.”
Stasis grinned, but then a thought occurred to him. He struggled to think of a way to breach the subject with Star Swirl.
The old wizard cocked a bushy brow. “Something the matter, lad?”
“Well….” Stasis stalled, glancing back to make sure that his cutie-mark was, in fact, still there. He had heard that a changeling’s masque could fizzle out if the changeling was knocked sufficiently unconscious. That would have been hard to explain.
Seeing the two masks, he didn’t quite meet Star Swirl’s eyes as he said, “I just wanted to know what you thought about my…um….”
“Your what? Your flanks? Your tail? Your backside? ‘Spankable’ is the word that comes to mind.”
Stasis’ tail swished across his hindquarters defensively. “What? No! I was talking about my cutie-mark!”
Star Swirl cocked the other brow. “Oh? Is that what that is? I figured you just got a smudge on your flank. Was about to spit and rub it out.”
“Well, that’s just great,” Stasis grumbled. “The little ponies want to touch it, and the old ponies want to spit on it. Nopony mentioned any of this when they were telling me about how wonderful getting my cutie-mark would be.”
“Ah, now, don’t be like that, lad. Come over here and let your ol’ daddy Swirl take a look at this cutie-mark of yours.”
“You are not my ‘daddy,’” Stasis mumbled, but he did as he was told, walking up and presenting his backside for the old stallion’s cutie-viewing pleasure.
Star Swirl leaned down, brows knitted, inspecting the mark carefully.
“Hmmm….”
“What? What is it?” Stasis asked, trying to see what the old wizard was looking at.
“I see…hmmm…very odd….”
“What? What? What?” Stasis babbled, his chitinous backplate all that prevented him from twisting completely about so he could inspect his own hind end.
“I never would have expected that….”
“What? What are you mumbling about!” Stasis demanded.
Star Swirl leaned back heavily and sighed.
“Well…it’s definitely not a pair of potaters.”
“What!” Stasis screeched. “Of course it’s not potaters! Why would it be potaters?”
“Well, lad, what you’ve got to understand is that I’ve just lost a bet. Coincidentally, the potater-monger’s daughter just got herself a new dress.”
“…Huh?” Stasis wondered if this was some kind of wizardly riddle. The only part of being a wizard that Star Swirl seemed really good at was not making sense half the time.
Star Swirl smiled – not one of the smiles he wore when he was about to perform another experiment on Stasis’ person, but a regular one – and Stasis could sense the old pony’s satisfaction as he reached over and patted the little changeling on the head.
“I’m proud of you, lad. I’ll admit, when you got into this whole theater thing, I figured it’d be all of a day before a constable stopped by the house to discuss public disturbances, vandalism, or corruption of the youth. I never thought that you’d actually get your cutie-mark in it.”
Stasis thought about rehearsal that morning, and grinned. “We don’t have anything like this back in my old home. I’ve no idea why Jack doesn’t like this play; it’s great!”
Star Swirl cracked a strange smile, and he patted Stasis’ head again. “Aye, well, maybe you can take all your masterful theatering techniques back to your old home if you ever head that way, eh?”
Stasis’ grin widened into a full-fanged smile. He already had ideas for all kinds of plays that his family could put on. Mother would have to play the part of Princess Celestia, of course, and the Killings could be the royal guard. And he would lead the rest of the underlings to wreak her destruction! Bwahahahahahaha! Everyling would love it!
Star Swirl laughed. “Well, I reckon you already heard me and Major talking about your cute-ceanara, eh?”
Stasis nodded.
“Well….” Star Swirl stroked his beard and gave the little changeling a contemplative look. “What would you say to maybe holding it here?”
“In my bedroom?” Stasis asked, aghast.
Star Swirl’s hoof stopped mid-stroke. “Uh…no, lad. Here, as in, the workshop. Eh…the living room, I mean.”
“There’s no room in the living room,” Stasis pointed out.
Star Swirl shook his head. “That room’s quite a bit bigger than you’re probably thinking, lad. It just looks small, stuffed with all my…eh…stuff, as it is now. Obviously, we’d have to move all the stuff to the backrooms first.”
“We?” Stasis said, seizing on the operative word.
“Yes, ‘we.’ This is your party. You’re lucky it’s not a ‘you.’”
“I’m the one who got a cutie-mark. You all are supposed to be nice to me…” he grumbled.
“’Nice’ doesn’t mean we’re slaves, lad. You want this party, you’ll put some effort into it. Still…I suppose it’d be alright if you invited Major to help. Nicely, or else I’ll make you do everything yourself.”
Stasis grumbled under his breath for a few moments more, to keep up appearances. Really, though, clearing out the workshop wouldn’t be too bad; it might even be fun, with Major there to help. Also, he really wanted the chance to touch Star Swirl’s stuff.
Mulling over the whole idea further, he said, “Are you really going to let us hold it here, in your house? I mean, you told me to never let anypony into the house, except for Major. And Princess Celestia, if she ever shows up at the door.” 
“And Princess Luna,” Star Swirl reminded him. “Though she’ll probably let herself in; remember, if you ever see her in the kitchen or your bedroom, just act like everything’s normal. It’ll psych her out.”
“I’ll remember,” Stasis promised. Actually, if any pony goddesses showed up at the door, he planned to run like all the hounds of hell were nipping at his heels. Everyling for himself.
“Anyway, lad, I’m not ‘letting’ you do anything. Who do you think is holding this here party, anyhow? I don’t feel safe letting you plan your own lunch, much less a party.” 
“But…what about your work?” Stasis asked. Not that he thought much of the old stallion’s work; as far as he could tell, Star Swirl spent most of his time piddling about with weird trinkets, or sitting in his thinking-spot and grunting to himself every few minutes before he started scribbling something down with a quill on old parchment – never pen and paper like an ordinary pony would use, but a phoenix’s quill and some old parchment, which Stasis guessed was more wizardly. Stasis hardly ever saw Star Swirl actually cast one of his spells, and when he did, it was usually something weird and boring, like the time he made a mouse remember a maze that it hadn’t even had a chance to run yet. He never opened vortices to other dimensions, or slagged cities, or summoned demons. Honestly, Stasis wasn’t quite sure what you were even supposed to do with a wizard, anyway. They didn’t seem very useful.
Star Swirl stroked his beard and gave Stasis a thoughtful look. “Well…I reckon all thaumaturgical progress won’t halt if ol’ Star Swirl decides to take one day off. Two’d be pushing it, though.”
“And we really get to hold it here? In our house?” Stasis asked again.
“It’s my house, lad. Don’t forget whose name’s on the deed.” Star Swirl’s wrinkled face – that little bit of it visible above his beard and below his hat, anyway – softened. “And that was the plan, aye. If the world can put up with you, I reckon it’ll find me to be something of a relief.”
Before Stasis could think about that, Star Swirl stood up with a grunt.
“Well, we’ll hammer out the details of the party later. For now, you and I’ve best get to work on dinner; I’m sure that your body’s ready for something a bit thicker than sugar. Maybe some soup would be easy on your belly…hmm….”
Stasis followed the wizened old wizard out of the room and down the hall, past the many locked rooms filled with wizardly pony junk. Star Swirl cleared his throat as they walked.
“I suppose since it’s such a special day…hmm…I reckon I should give you an extra-special lesson in magic after dinner, eh?”
“Extra-special?” Stasis asked, sunflower eyes agleam. He liked extra-special things.
Star Swirl smiled down at him and nodded. “Aye, very spe – wait, no, I recognize that look. I am not teaching you to teleport, lad. Not yet.”
Stasis sniffed. “Well, it can’t be that special, then.”
“Sure it can! Tonight, lad, we delve into the wonderful world of thaumaturgical matrices and their relationship with crystal lattice structures! Ha! I can’t wait!”
Stasis rolled his eyes. Yeah, didn’t that sound useful.
Out loud, though, he said, “That almost sounds too special, Star Swirl. We should probably save that to celebrate the birth of my firstborn or something. I have another idea: how about we learn about the creation and propagation of temporally compressed fluids and electromagnetic spheroids through a gas?”
Star Swirl frowned. “Well, eh…I guess if that’s what you really want to learn, I can…wait….”
“No,” Stasis interjected quickly. “Let’s not wait. Let’s learn. Now.”
Star Swirl paused on the steps down to the first floor and looked down at the little changeling, his eyes hooded underneath his mighty wizard’s hat.
“Last week, you were wanting to learn about the creation and manipulation of plasma vortices through the rapid energizing of oxygen in a mixed gas.” He leaned down, his icy blue eyes seeming to swallow all of the little changeling’s vision.
“Lad? You are not learning how to cast Pyro’s Plasmatic Fireball.”
Stasis scowled. “How do you always know these things, anyway? Are you reading my mind? You’d tell me if you knew how to read my mind, right?”
Star Swirl leaned back and snorted. “It doesn’t take a magician to know what’s going on in your head, lad. Speaking of thaumaturgy…lad, what’s the first law of magic?”
Stasis crossed his forelegs over his chest and looked away. “I don’t know. I’m not saying.”
Star Swirl got one of his experiment-y smiles. “Come on, lad. What’s the first law of magic?”
“No. It’s stupid.”
“Say it. Say it, lad.”
Stasis pouted harder before finally muttering, “You may be clever, but Star Swirl is cleverer….”
Star Swirl nodded. “That’s right. And the second law?”
“Stasis doesn’t get to learn any combat magics until he’s sixteen and ready for a life in a royal penitentiary….”
“And its corollary?”
Stasis sighed. “Star Swirl does not pay damages….”
“That’s right, lad. Those are the bedrocks of your thaumaturgical education. Remember them, and you’ll go far.”
“Fine,” Stasis grumbled. Being foiled must be the worst feeling in the world.
Star Swirl patted him on the head before continuing down the stairs, bones above and planks below creaking in unison. As Stasis followed, he had another idea.
“Hey, Star Swirl? Can you teach me about linear-chain ionization instead?”
“The third law of magic: no lightning bolts!”
“…Are you making these up?”

*	*	*

Stasis stalked the morning butterflies, their bright colors and gay dispositions mocking his forenoon fatigue. They were very much like ponies in that way, but small, and readily yielding to his godlike strength and cunning.
“Ha!” he exclaimed, pouncing upon one particular arthropod, trapping it beneath his hoof. Seeing that it was satisfyingly helpless, he began to gloat.
“What did you think, little butterfly? Did you really think that you could just flutter on into this yard – my yard – and spread your happiness and good cheer? Bwahahahahaha!”
The butterfly fluttered spastically, obviously calling for help.
“That’s right! There’s power in numbers! Call the butterflies, call the ants, call the flutterers and the buzzers and the creepers too! Call all the powers of your phylum down upon me, little butterfly, if you can! Bwahahahahaha!”
The butterfly tickled the sole of his hoof as it crawled, desperately trying to escape.
“Where is your arrogant fecklessness now, little butterfly? Where is your brazen joy, now that your doom is upon you? Bwahahahahahaha!”
“Hey, Stasis!” Major asked, his forelegs hooked over the top of the black iron fence.
“Oh. Hey, Major,” Stasis said, trotting up to the earth pony, who was looking even happier and orangier than usual. “What’s up?”
“Nothing!” said Major with a smile. “Hey, you wanna go do something?”
“Can we do it without Goldie?” Stasis questioned.
“Hey!” said Goldie, who also happened to be on the other side of the fence.
“Goodness!” said Stasis, raising a hoof to his mouth at this gross impropriety. “I didn’t see you there!”
“You liar...” grumbled the petulant little filly. “Anyway, what were you doing to that poor butterfly?”
“Playing with it,” Stasis explained.
“You were not! You were being mean!”
“You’re either playing with the butterfly, Goldie, or else the butterfly is playing with you,” cautioned the little changeling. “And nofly plays with Stasis.”
Goldie’s nose scrunched up. “Wait, what? What does that even mean?”
“Yeah, I’m really confused,” confessed Major.
“No one understands me…” grumbled Stasis. “Look, do you two want to play or not?”
“Like you were playing with that butterfly?” Goldie snarked.
“Wait…are we playing with you, or are you playing with us?” Major asked.
“Nopony’s playing with anypony!” Stasis snarled. “I mean…we’re playing, but not metaphorically!”
“Meta-what?” asked Goldie.
Major looked to be in pain.
Stasis facehoofed. “Never mind! The point is, we’re playing, and I know just the place to do it!”
“Where?” Goldie asked.
“I’m still confused...” said Major.
“Since it’s a Saturday, there’s no rehearsal, so I figured that we should play in the playground at the school. That’s what it’s for, after all.”
Major smiled brightly. “Hey! Yeah! I love the playground!”
“But it’s summer, Stasis, and the weekend. Won’t school be closed?” questioned Goldie.
“Do you hate fun, Goldie? Are you a fun-hater?” Stasis countered.
“Don’t be a fun-hater, Goldie,” Major said sadly.
“I-I don’t hate fun! I love fun! I just…I don’t want us to do anything bad, is all…” Goldie muttered.
Major’s brow furrowed. “I don’t want to do anything bad, either. Stasis, are you sure that we’re allowed to be there?”
“Are you sure that we’re not?”
“School is closed, Stasis. Ponies aren’t supposed to be there,” Goldie claimed once more.
“It’s a public school, isn’t it? Are we not the public?”
“He’s right. We are the public,” Major affirmed.
“That doesn’t mean that we –“
“We have rights!”
“He’s right! They said so in school!” Major agreed.
“We shouldn’t be denied!”
“We shouldn’t!”
“We have needs!”
“We do!”
“Let’s go!”
“Yeah! Let’s go!”
Stasis stormed the gate, pushing through it and down the street. He led the way, marching towards school, flanked by his best companion, plus Goldie.
“We are gonna get spanked,” Goldie grumbled. Goldie was such a grumbler.
“Look, if they catch us, just start crying, alright? You’re a filly, so you’ve got nothing to lose,” Stasis reasoned.
Major’s face bore a look of intense contemplation. “Even if we weren’t the public…I don’t think they’d spank us. They only ever spank Stasis.”
“They do? They did?” Goldie asked, looking at Stasis with wide eyes.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
Major grinned. “Yeah! You should have seen it, Goldie. They locked all the outside doors and windows and they had everypony looking for him, even the janitor! They were opening up all the cabinets and lockers and I even saw Miss Brighten looking in the air ducts for him. Ponies say that they finally found him in the bathroom, trying to tear out the toilet and escape down into the plumbing!”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“They say that Principal Principal got out a rusty old paddle three paces long that they found buried in the grave of the first principal ever to run this school, thousands of years ago! You could hear it even on the other side of the building. Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! It just seemed to go on and on, forever! And there was all this horrible screeching, and a lot of words got yelled that I don’t understand, and they say Mr. Worthy got bit and they had to take him to the hospital –“
“I don’t want to talk about it!”
“– and vaccinate him against rabies and tetanus. But Stasis doesn’t like to talk about it,” Major finished. Leaning over the little changeling, he whispered loudly, “All I know is, he was walking funny for days.”
Goldie giggled, and soon so did Major. Stasis kept his gaze resolutely forward. He consoled himself with the fact that, if Principal did show up, Stasis wouldn’t have to outrun the old geezer or his magic this time. He just had to outrun Major and Goldie.
Still, after that, Stasis had difficulty paying attention to the rest of the two ponies’ conversation. It was hard to hear over the Smack! Smack! Smack! that even now echoed in his mind, and in his haunches. Ponies were monsters. They really were.
Upon reaching the front of the school, Stasis glanced about, eyes and ears alert for any lurking authority figures. The coast being clear, he motioned to the two ponies and began creeping around the side of the building.
“Why are you creeping along all weird like that?” Goldie asked, her nose scrunching up. “We’re not supposed to be here, are we? You’re trying to get us into trouble!”
“Nonsense!” Stasis scoffed. “This is my normal creep. There’s nothing weird about it at all.”
“It’s true,” Major affirmed. “That’s how he always creeps.”
“But just in case, we should keep our voices low,” Stasis whispered over his shoulder as he crept through the tall grass beside the school.
Major nodded with understanding. Goldie looked to the heavens, probably hoping for help from her puny pony gods.
Stasis heard voices. He quickly held up one hoof, signaling the two to stop.
“What –“
“Shhhh!”
Goldie sat on her haunches, looking cross, but she kept quiet. Stasis decided to shush her more often.
Glad that he was already creeping, Stasis wriggled through the tallish grass like a snake. He paused just at the corner of the building, his keen ears perked up and listening intently.
“ – don’t know, dude. The whole thing just seems a bit...crazy, I guess. I mean, Star Swirl’s supposed to be some kind of freaking genius; don’t you think that he’d notice if something was wrong?”
“You’re looking at it the wrong way. Star Swirl is a recluse; he lives by himself at the edge of town for years, then suddenly he adopts some supposed-orphan out of nowhere? And now he’s having meetings with school officials, attending more city council sessions, and spending more time in town, picking up groceries and the like? That is what’s odd here. That is what we should be concerned about.”
“Really, dude? Star Swirl decides to get a little bit frisky, and that’s weirder than him not noticing a monster living in his own house?”
Stasis hissed under his breath. The second voice was Pierce, of course. Who was the first? And why were they here at the playground? Stasis had been sure that children weren’t supposed to play on the playground while school was out, but Pierce would never do anything that he wasn’t supposed to! This blowed.
“Look at his coloration. Look at his cutie-mark. Look at his name. Look at his background. Look at how he acts. Look at what he eats. How can nopony else see this? Does he have to carve ‘I’m a changeling’ out of leather and hang it about his neck?”
“Look, dude, I believe you. I was there when you got your cutie-mark, remember? You were the one who figured out that I was stealing from the teacher’s lounge and framing it on that nerd Joules. I know you’re kind of freaky with this stuff.”
“There wasn’t anything ‘freaky’ about it. It was obvious, even to a child.”
“Yeah. Whatever. I’m just saying, this time it’s a bit…harder to accept, I guess. I mean, he just hangs out with his friends, goes to school, and plays at the park. Shouldn’t he be, I don’t know, poisoning our water or stealing our mares or something? He seems a bit young to be a creature of nightmares.”
“He’s actually fitting in much more poorly than most changelings that I’ve read about, who normally mimic their ‘host’ quite closely. I have no idea what his plans are or why he’s here. I hope that the guard can learn all of that once he’s in custody.”
“Okay…do you have any actual proof that he’s a changeling? Any proof at all?”
“Other than all the evidence that’s there for anypony to see? Not a shred, no.”
“Gods, you can be such an ass. What I mean is, how are you going to prove it? Nopony’s going to mess with Star Swirl’s ‘ward’ without proof.”
“I don’t know. I checked the registry at town hall; Stasis is listed as a foundling, not an orphan, with Star Swirl as his legal guardian. I tried to find out details: who determined that Stasis was abandoned? Was any effort made to find his parents? Was there an investigation? But his records were sealed, and the clerk was…less than helpful.”
“Okay…so?”
“So, I borrowed a number of texts on relevant law from the library, and consulted a lawyer.”
“You ‘consulted a lawyer’? You’re some kind of freak, you know that?”
“He was very helpful, but after doing some surreptitious investigations of his own, all he could tell me was that the normal laws had been’ circumvented via royal dispensation.’ Not necessarily a direct act of the sovereign, but strings in the capitol were definitely pulled, doubtless by Star Swirl himself. The lawyer was noticeably less helpful after that; he told me to drop the case.”
“Sucks for you. But hey, I have an idea: why not talk to Star Swirl? Or would that be too easy? Gods only know what you’d do if you didn’t have some wrongdoing to obsess over.”
“I took out a number of books from the library; none of them were particularly helpful, but I did find a number of anecdotes that suggest that changelings may have the power to influence the minds of their prey. This would explain Star Swirl’s strange behavior and protectiveness of Stasis.”
“So, Star Swirl the Bearded’s six-year-old foster son is actually a vampiric incubus with diabolical mind-control powers.”
“Yes.”
“…Alright, I can dig it. Keep going.”
“The only pony in Trottingham whom I know could help me, therefore, is the only one I know I can’t trust. I’ve tried to speak to my father about it, of course, but he just laughs and tells me to relax and go out and have a good time…as usual. Considering that he’s both the ex-Chief Constable and my father, he never seems to understand how important it is to be vigilant if we want to protect ponies, or how important this is to me.” 
“You never fail to bring a tear to my eye, Pierce. You’re a lot like onions in that.”
“I didn’t even bother to ask him if I could go to Everfree City, where I might actually stand a chance of finding some knowledgeable books on changelings so that I can know what I’m up against. And I’ve not received replies to my letters to the Princesses or the Captain of the Guard. Clearly, with both my father and Star Swirl opposing me, I can’t look forward to support from either the constabulary or the Equestrian military.”
“By Celestia…you mean to say that Celestia just ignored you like that? Luna too? What are we paying them for, if not to answer the letters of middle-school students about changelings-in-our-midst?”
“It was a very well-articulated and thought-out argument. There was no reason for it to be summarily rejected.”
“How is that you can be so smart and so stupid at the same time? You’re some kind of bipolar, dude.”
“My point is, no matter what I’ve tried so far, I’ve been blocked at every turn. Even Crimson, as wonderful and…exciting, as she is, thinks I’m being…foolish.”
“No. Surely not Crimson, too!”
“Yes. She doesn’t say it, of course, but I can see that she’s just humoring me. I need to prove my suspicions correct, if for no other reason than to show her that she should learn to trust my instincts. I’m not wrong in this. I can see the truth, even if nopony else can.”
“This is why I love you, Pierce. The animal magnetism…the modesty and humility…what’s not to like?”
“Is that what you think this is? A joke? Look me in the eye and listen to me, Cleave. My father is a cripple now. This morning, I had to change his diaper. He laughs about it, but I know he remembers when he didn’t need a walker, when he could help others instead of being helpless. Is that what you want to happen to Star Swirl the Bearded? How about yourself, or somepony you know?”
“Buzzkill. Okay, I’m with you, Pierce. What do you need from me and the boys?” 
“I’m not sure yet. But I know that you, for all your faults, will believe me even when nopony else does. That’s what I need more than anything else right now.”
“Uh…thanks…I think? What’s the plan, though? I know you wouldn’t have come to me without a plan.”
“Well, while Stasis seems to have prodigious magical talent, I’ve seen no obvious signs that he’s stealing the energy from anypony else. Of course, Star Swirl is a large well to draw from, but without visible signs of deterioration, I can’t count that as proof.”
“He needs love first, right? I think we’re safe.”
“Perhaps, though you forget his native mind-magic. Anyway, I’ve tried intimidating him into panicking and making some kind of mistake, but it’s not produced any useful results as of yet. I think he may be in collusion with other changelings in the area, but I’m not certain who.”
“Still seems like a roundabout way of going about this. I mean, if you’re right, that means he’s got fangs, and fly wings, and holes in his legs, for Celestia’s sake. Can’t you just…I don’t know…look at his reflection in a mirror or something?”
“I was just getting to that. The changeling impersonation illusion is apparently quite complex and deep-seated in changeling physiology; as long as the changeling is impersonating something physically similar to itself, it’s almost impossible to see through. And since Stasis doesn’t seem to be impersonating another pony, we can’t follow the traditional method of exposing changelings, by showing differences between who they are and who they are pretending to be.”
“So? Dispel it.”
“The books I read were annoyingly devoid of specifics; all I could gather was that the changeling illusion is significantly different than normal unicorn magic. Unicorns may not even be able to replicate it at all. That also means that the spell is highly resistant to normal dispels; you might see tell-tale flickers or flaws, but the illusion would remain. Fortunately, there is a counterspell that can shatter the illusion at a fundamental level, also rendering the changeling temporarily dazed. Unfortunately, it is not a simple counterspell, and the only ponies I know to have it are the royal guard.”
“There are still a couple of brassers hanging around town. They might actually talk to you; you’d fit right in.”
“There are. And don’t call them ‘brassers.’ But it doesn’t matter; I’d need a unicorn to learn the spell, and that rules out myself, you, and most of the ponies I know.”
“Gutsy’s got a horn. He’d give it a shot if I told him to.”
“Gutsy is an idiot.”
“Well, gods, Pierce, half the ponies in this town are idiots by your standards. What do you expect me to do?”
“That’s not true. I’m certain that Gutsy is skilled in certain things, but higher thinking is not one of them; he never got beyond basic levitation in school. What I need is a unicorn skilled in magic, unaffiliated with Stasis or Star Swirl, and willing to invest a potentially significant amount of time in helping me expose Stasis as a changeling.”
“Well, if I see any of those walking around, I’ll let you know.”
“Thank you. Without such an ally, I’m not sure how to move forward.”
“How is that when you get a fillyfriend, you become more uptight?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. What does Crimson have to do with anything?”
“Here’s another idea: how about we persuade him to take off the illusion himself? No need to make things any more complicated than they have to be.”
“How do you expect for us to do that?”
There was a chuckle. “Well, me and the boys can be very persuasive when we want to be. It shouldn’t be that hard to get Tard and Whitey away from him for a little while. Then we’ll just…gods. You’re giving me The Look again, aren’t you?”
There was silence.
“Oh, gods. You are. I thought only horrid old hags and uptight shopkeepers could give that look, but there it is. It’s like you’re damning me with your eyes.”
“If I hear of you assaulting anyone for any reason, I will haul you in front of the magistrate myself.”
“Suit yourself. I mean, I’m sorry about what happened to your dad and all, but for myself, I couldn’t care less if this whole freakin’ town was overrun with the things. In fact, No Pain would probably like it better that way. Got it in his head that he wants to marry a lady changeling when he grows up. That’s the problem with school; now that he finally knows how to read, he keeps getting these freaky romance novels from the library –“
“I don’t want to know.”
“And you think I do? How is that we always talk about your problems, and never my problems? If I’m going to be your shrink, I should be getting paid in more than threats and evil eyes.”
“All you ever want to do is talk about your problems. Problems are meant to be solved.”
“I love you, too.”
“I feel as if we’re getting off the subject.”
“So, just to check: there’s no chance that he’s just a brat with an unlucky complexion, some weird foreign name, and the bad luck to show up in town right in the middle of a changeling invasion?”
“No.”
“Fine, then. I’ll see what I can do about finding that unicorn of yours. But you owe me, alright? If I help beat off the starts of another changeling invasion, you owe me big.”
“As long as you don’t ask me to do or help in anything remotely immoral, unethical, or illegal.”
“Oh, yeah, that’s a huge help. Maybe I’ll ask you to help my granny cross the street, huh? Old witch’s the only one who gives a worse evil eye than you.”
“Very well. But hurry; we may not have much time. The books I’ve read suggest that changelings have an insatiable lust for energy, and little enough in the way of consciences; to them, we’re just food.” 
“Huh. Sounds a lot like Gutsy. I swear, the looks that guy gives me sometimes…I think he’s a cannibal.”
“…I should go.”
“See what I mean? Every time I’ve got a problem….”
The sound of hooves on soft grass approached. Stasis strained his hearing, trying to pick up the slightest whi–
Uh-oh.
He rushed backwards, making shooing motions towards the other two ponies, trying to get them out in front of the school before –
“Luna’s holy flank...what are you three doing here?” asked a voice behind Stasis.
Stasis ceased trying to shove Major and, removing his hooves from the orange pony’s chest, smiled over his shoulder. “Nothing! Nothing at all. We were just…uh….”
“Coming here to play?” Major suggested helpfully.
Stasis’ smile grew wider. “That’s right! We were on our way to –“
“Stasis was spying on you.”
Stasis swore vengeance against Goldie and all her progeny, to the seventh generation.
Cleave spat on the ground and glared at Stasis.
“Do you guys want to play with us?” asked Major.
Cleave glanced at Pierce, who shook his head almost imperceptibly.
“As much as I’d like to ride the see-saw with you, Major, I’m going to have to pass,” Cleave said. “I’m supposed to meet up with Suckerpunch, anyway. Says he knows a place with unlimited milkshake refills, and I plan to nom-vom until either I or the manager passes out. See ya later.”
“Wait.” Goldie’s eyes narrowed. “Are you one of those guys who was making fun of Major yesterday?”
Cleave blinked. “Uh….”
“Oh, that’s right! I’d forgotten about that!” Major exclaimed.
“What’s she talking about, Cleave?” Pierce asked coolly.
“Uh…I gotta go,” the earth pony with a cleaver cutie-mark said, trotting quickly away.
“Hey!” Goldie yelled, scampering quickly after him. “Hey, you stop right there! I’m telling on you!”
Pierce turned and stared at Stasis, his face more reminiscent of stone than living flesh. “You were spying on me,” he said coldly.
“I wasn’t planning to spy on you,” Stasis protested. “We were just coming here to play, and you just happened to be here and discussing your plans. Clearly, I was meant to spy on you. You can’t hold it against me for fulfilling what fate so obviously desires!” he explained logically.
“I see. I suppose there’s nothing else to say, then.” The large, blue earth pony turned and walked past Stasis, giving Major the slightest nod as he made his way towards the road.
“I think Pierce is angry with you again,” Major said doubtfully. “Maybe you shouldn’t have spied on him like that? Maybe I should go tell him I’m sorry….”
Stasis didn’t reply; he was too busy looking at the retreating Pierce, thinking. After a few moments, the orange earth pony trotted off after him.
Clearly, increasing his pony-ish-ness was a futile effort at this point. Stasis was yet a little changeling, incapable of casting even the simplest of fireballs. Still, he was clever, and that would have to be enough.
One way or another, if he wanted to live amongst the ponies without fear, he would have to find a way to deal with Pierce.