//------------------------------// // Appearances Can Be Deceiving // Story: This Is Why, Shining Armor! // by contodaslasganas //------------------------------// Trim was alone in the darkness, squinting and blinking rapidly until at last she was able to make out another shape: a small filly curled up in a ball, visibly shaking, crying. The mare leaned close to the small, trembling figure, and as her sight grew more accustomed to the lack of light, she recognized the filly: it was Chryssie – or at least it looked like Chryssie – but she was covered in deep gashes, bruises all around her black body. Trim quickly trotted over and hugged her, tears accumulating ever so slowly in her eyes. “Chryssie, what happened? Are you okay? Who did–” That was as far as Trim got, for then she heard multiple hooves striking the ground with determined speed. “Please, Ma’am, step away from the monster. We must eliminate her at once, by order of Princess Celestia.” The owner of one set of hooves approached the two ponies, dressed in uniform and bearing the crest of the Royal Guard. Four more ponies dressed in similar fashion appeared behind him, each carrying a shield and various weapons, all of which were pointed toward Trim and Chryssie. “W-w-what do you mean?” Trim stuttered, though she had an idea of who they were calling the “monster.” “We cannot let this changeling live,” the guard continued. “She is a threat to all Equestria, and as such must be eliminated.” “M-mama, p-p-please h-help me.” Chryssie’s voice was so soft and trembled terribly. “M-mama, I’m s-scared.” Trim felt something click inside her. She turned to her filly and reassured her: “Don’t worry, Chryssie, I will protect you,” kissing and hugging her tightly until the filly settled down and stopped crying. Trim then turned back to the guards. “This is my filly, and I will protect her with my life. I will NOT let anypony, especially the royal guard, harm her. DO YOU UNDERSTAND?” “Ma’am, I am sorry but we have been given this order by Prin–” The guard got no further. “I don’t care who the buck sent you! Even if Princess Celestia were here, I wouldn’t let her touch my filly. So, in case you didn’t hear, GET THE BUCK AWAY FROM MY FILLY!” Indistinct whispering fluttered among the four guards in the back, and after a couple excruciating seconds, the stallion on the right nodded at the one in front. “I guess we have no choice, then, but to take her by force.” “I would like to see you try.” By now, Trim was fuming. She didn’t care that she would have to fight against five stallions, or for that matter five guards sent directly by Princess Celestia. The only thing on her mind was Chryssie, and the mare had already decided that she would rather die than let her daughter fall into the hooves of those guardsponies. “Run, Chryssie, go behind me and run, and don’t look back. Don’t worry, mama will be right behind you.” Trim knew that last part was a lie, but she needed Chryssie to get as far away as possible from the scene. The filly complied, but as she started to run, more stallions in golden armor burst into view, encircling the two ponies and cutting off the changeling’s escape. Trim tried to teleport Chryssie out, but she noticed that the guards in the back had set up a massive barrier: there was no way out. Still, Trim’s determination did not waver, and she charged up the only attack spell she knew. With luck, I may be able to stun all the guards inside the barrier. When reinforcements come, they’ll be forced to open the barrier, and from there Chryssie and I can run, run to where they cannot get my filly. “This is your last chance. Give up now and we will not harm you. We only want the changeling.” “Buck you.” Trim shot a small wave of energy, stunning a couple stallions in front of her. The stallions began to advance, and the courageous mare shot another wave, then another, then another, then another. But there were just too many soldiers. Too many to count. Trim shot another wave. Still more filled the gap. Her magic was running out. The strain was just too much. Her hooves finally gave way, and she fell to the floor, exhausted, her horn crackling, her heart aching. I’m sorry, Chryssie, I tried my best. … … A blinding light arose from the ground, everypony looking up to inspect the scene. “Wait, where’s the changeling?” The white light expanded explosively, and Trim felt her magic being restored miraculously. The light slowly fell to the floor and died down, and in its place stood another pony, a mare with holes throughout her body but with a white aura around her. “C-Chryssie?” “Let me take care of them, mother,” the mare replied to Trim. Chryssie let loose a huge beam of energy, wiping out half of the guards, leaving only steaming piles of armor in their place. She then concentrated her energy on the barrier, destroying it in a manner of seconds. “Oh, no, we were too late. Bring all of the reinforce–!” Chryssie took care of the talking stallion and set her sights on the remaining guards around her. She began to strike each one with intense, white-hot beams, incinerating them. Trim stood up, speechless, dumbfounded at the scene developing before her. However, she noticed that something was happening to Chryssie: the once white aura around her was turning darker, much darker than the sky on a starless night, much darker than the blackest paint. Chryssie’s eyes had turned dark red, with a black, devilish tinge throughout: she was enjoying killing the stallions. “Chryssie, please stop! Don’t kill the guards! Come on, now’s our chance to escape!” Chryssie ignored her, killing stallions two or three at a time, now black smoke venting from her eyes and body. “No, Chryssie, please stop!” The changeling paid no heed, and wiped out the rest of the stallions in a flash. She then teleported out, leaving no trace of her presence other than the golden armor carpeting the ground, still smoldering. Trim could not believe it. No, this can’t be, this is not my Chryssie! Her thoughts were interrupted by a faint screaming behind her. Trim teleported out towards the screeching sound, only to find herself with an even more gruesome picture than before. Chryssie had already destroyed all the homes in Canterlot. Ponies lay dead all around the city, bodies strewn throughout the street … it was just too much for Trim. But what caught the mother’s eye was the battle ensuing right in front of her: Celestia was fighting Chryssie, and the outcome did not look good. In an instant, Chryssie unleashed a ball of energy directly at Celestia, who was unable to block at such close range. The scene disappeared in blistering light, then reappeared to show Celestia on the ground, dead, Chryssie victorious. “No, no, no! Why? You have to stop, Chryssie!” Suddenly, a small colt appeared in front of Chryssie. The changeling prepared to launch her attack, a beam that would have destroyed the innocent pony in an instant, and Trim could not control herself. She shot a stun wave at Chryssie, who brushed it off as if it was nothing and continued to stare at the small, defenseless pony. There was only one thing Trim could do. As much as it pained her, she charged up the one spell that no one knew she had learned, one that she had stumbled on as a young filly and vowed never to use, for the description itself was scarred in her mind forever. But still, she couldn’t let all of Equestria suffer under Chryssie’s wrath; she couldn't let that innocent colt die. She focused all her magic on her horn, and she spoke the incantation for that forbidden spell. “O daemones in abscondita tenebrarum, accude mea inimici apud internecinum sudes.”* I’m so sorry, Chryssie. Please forgive me. A small black beam hit the ground beneath the changeling, and large black beams of energy arose from the shadows and struck the demon that used to be Chryssie. The changeling could not defend herself against the onslaught, spike after spike of energy crashing on her body. Finally, the spell was over, and Trim fell onto the ground, clinging to the last of her life source. I used too much magic. Oh, Chryssie, I am so sorry… However, Chryssie was not down for the count. Though with deep wounds, she continued her rampage relentlessly. A beam of magic shot from Chryssie’s horn and hit the small colt in the chest, Trim watching in horror. The changeling later turned to her attacker and unleashed a powerful spell upon her mother, a beam that burned with hatred and anger. Why, Chryssie? //// Trim woke with a start, sweating buckets, trembling uncontrollably, almost falling from her bed. Oh, it was just a dream. But why was it so vivid, why did it feel so real? Could it be a premonition, a warning? No, my Chryssie is not this way. Just because she’s a changeling doesn’t make her bad. I can raise her to be a good filly, and that’s what I will do. Trim noticed that it was already dawn, so she prepared a quick breakfast. After almost knocking over a couple dishes with her hooves (which were still trembling, though the effects of the dream were slowly wearing off), she went to wake up Chryssie. The filly was sleeping so serenely, though, that Trim decided against keeping her from her dreams. She pushed the dream out of her mind as best she could and sat down at the table. After she finished eating, her brain a little clearer, she remembered the questions that had plagued her thoughts the day before, thankful for something to keep the happenings of the night off her mind. Ok. When making a plan, start where all the information is: the library. Maybe there I will find a way for Chryssie to live alongside everypony.