//------------------------------// // The Monster Knight // Story: Five Changelings In Equestria: The Changeling Knight // by Bucking Nonsense //------------------------------// "Uh oh..." Commander Mole Cricket looked at the griffon chick staring at him, and knew that the game was up. Since his ejection from Canterlot, and subsequent landing in the freshly returned Crystal Empire, he'd spent the last few days in traction, only able to move one foreleg. He had been able to keep up the act of being a pegasus named Cricket who had ended up being blown in due to a heavy storm, but things had been difficult for him since his painful arrival. He was on some surprisingly effective pain meds, so he supposed that he couldn't complain too much about his discomfort, especially after slamming into the side of a building at ludicrous speed. The problem was, as a changeling, he could only maintain a disguise while conscious. If he was knocked out, or fell asleep, he'd automatically default to his normal appearance... and these meds made him really, really sleepy. Up until now, he'd been able to keep himself awake during the day, and slept only at night. However, it was incredibly boring, just laying back and watching the walls. There was nothing that he could do to occupy his time. The walls were a cold sterile white, with no photos. There was nothing he could do to entertain himself, really, and the staff were all so... gloomy. This insane level of tedium, combined with fatigue from his slowly healing body and the powerful medications he was on, finally took their toll, and he fell asleep. When he woke up, he saw that he was not alone. The griffon chick was still quite young, with big blue eyes and both fur and feathers of pure white. The youngster's eyes were wide, and seemed as surprised to see Cricket as he was to see her. Cricket braced himself for what was coming. There'd be a scream, and folks would come running, and before you knew it, there would be torches, pitchforks, the whole nine yards. And with him in traction, and unable to escape, it would not be pretty... However, instead of crying out, the child instead crawled up onto the changeling's hospital bed, curled into a little ball, and promptly went to sleep next to him. While surprised, and confused (could "Conprised" be a word? Or maybe "Surfused"?), Cricket wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. As gently as he could, he called up a disguise, putting himself back into the appearance he had chosen for himself: Brown coat, black mane and tail, with a cricket for a cutie mark. With that in place, so long as he remained awake, he'd be safe... he hoped. Almost immediately after reapplying his disguise, a nurse came rushing in, her expression panicked. "Have you seen..." she began, then stopped abruptly, seeing the youngster curled up beside Cricket and sleeping peacefully. "I don't believe it," the nurse said, clearly surprised. "She hasn't slept peacefully for more than a week, not since..." She abruptly stopped, not wanting to continue. Cricket had heard a lot about that: apparently, there had been some wizard who had made life a nightmare for the residents of the city. While he had suddenly vanished, his presence had left a terrible mark on the city. It took a little bit of urging to get the full story from the nurse. A group of youngsters like this one had been abducted by Sombra, the wizard who had ruled over this city. His reasons for doing so were unknown, but with the wizard's disappearance, it was uncertain what should be done: there was a severe snowstorm outside of the city, making communication with the outside world impossible at the moment. The youngsters were being kept at the hospital, it being the only place in the city that had the spacing and the staffing to watch over more than twenty children at once. However, just as Sombra had left the residents of the city in a state of terrible melancholy, he had left these children in a state of perpetual terror, a stark and terrible fear that haunted them all day, draining them of hope and joy, and stalked their dreams each night. "This is the first time I've seen any of them sleeping peacefully," the nurse concluded. "I don't know what it is you did, and I hate to impose upon you, but if you'd let her stay where she is for the time being, I'd be grateful." Cricket nodded, and asked, "You said there were more like this one?" The nurse nodded, and said, "Yes. There's more than twenty of them, of all sorts, from all sorts of places." Cricket deliberated inside his head, pondering what he should do. He needed to keep up the act, and since he looked like a pony, he needed to act like one as well. What would a pony do in this situation? After a moment, he said, "If you want, you can send them all in. Ah, and bring me something to read. I think they might sleep better after a bedtime story." The nurse, surprised, nodded and said, "Right away. I'll be back in a few minutes." After she left, Cricket thought on what his next step should be. Right now, if the youngster at his side woke up, he could probably explain away any sort of story she told about seeing a monster as just being bad dreams or from having been so tired for so long. But... If she'd seen a monster, why had she decided that his bed was the best place to take a nap? Did she think that he was so scary that he'd be able to frighten off this Sombra character if he came looking for her? While that might make sense, it didn't explain the slow, steady stream of love energy that the chick was pouring into him unconsciously. Since she'd seen the real him, he would have to keep her close until he was certain she wasn't going to rat him out. While it was somewhat risky, he supposed he'd need to watch over her... and on her little friends as well. ---------------- A few minutes later, the nurse returned with a storybook, and followed by a small army of creatures. All of them were of different species. There was a minotaur, a sphinx, a worg, and more. Many, many more. There were creatures he couldn't even name, and as a changeling, he had not exactly lived what you would call a sheltered life, in spite of his youth. All of them, however, were young, and all of them seemed deeply depressed. If Cricket ever met this Sombra jerk, he promised himself that he would punch him. Hard. No one should ever do something like this to a bunch of kids. He realized, suddenly, just how young all of them were. The oldest, the minotaur, could not be older than eight years old. Sombra had kidnapped all of them, for whatever reasons he had, and had terrorized them to the point that even now, he haunted their nightmares... in spite of all of them being far too young to be any kind of threat to the wizard. Cricket amended his previous thought: if he ever met that evil enchanter, he'd dropkick the jerk right in his face. There was a cute little yawn, and the griffin woke up, and looked up at the changeling with big blue eyes. She was, he realized with a cold shock, only four years old. Alright, forget the punch, and the dropkick: neither one would be enough. If he ever met Sombra, he'd give him the granddaddy of all Tauren suplexes. After that, he'd work his way from there, until he ran out of moves, or he ran out of Sombra to use them on. He took a moment to calm himself down. It wouldn't do to scare the little ones. There'd been quite enough of that, thank you very much. Smiling, he looked down at the little griffin, and asked, "Did you enjoy your nap?" The little one nodded, smiling back. The nurse, with a slight smile and a nod, exited the room, leaving him alone with the children. After he was sure she was gone, he dropped his disguise. This was breaking a lot of rules. If even one of them screamed... Instead, he heard a chorus of "Woooooow"s. Thankfully, either they had never seen or heard of a changeling before, or they had, and didn't think he was dangerous, given the state he was in. Looking down at the little griffin, he couldn't help but ask her, "Why did you decide to take a nap in my bed, even after you saw that I was a scary monster?" Looking up at him with those big, innocent eyes, she said, with an adorable lisp, "You'we not a scawy monstah. I've seen what a scawy monstah wooks wike. His name was Sombwa. You don't wook anything wike him. You wook wike the biggest, stwongest, bwavest knight in the whole wide wohd." Cricket reached out with his good hoof, and placed it on top of the little griffin's head, and gave it a rub, setting the girl to giggling. Still smiling, he said, "You know, that may be the nicest thing anybirdy has ever said to me, ever." With a flick of his hoof, he opened the book that the nurse had set on the changeling's lap. "Now, who would like to hear a story?" There was a small forest of raised forelimbs. With a chuckle, Cricket began to read... "Once upon a time, there was a brave and handsome knight..." ----------------- Later that night, Cricket looked at his reflection in a spoon that the nurse had left along with his dinner. He didn't know what part of him the little griffin chick thought looked like a knight. The changeling certainly wasn't handsome. Brave, perhaps, but not handsome: like any changeling, he looked like some sort of nightmare brought to life. In fact, the mere idea of a changeling being anything like a knight was ridiculous. But as he looked over the little ones asleep on little bedrolls on the floor (they had refused to leave the room, and had made quite a racket when the nurse had tried to insist), he couldn't help but think to himself that, if those stories he had read to the children were true, and a knight was somebuggy who would bravely and boldly ride out to rescue youngsters like these from an evil wizard... well, he couldn't think of a worthier goal in his life. And after Canterlot, he would need a new direction. While the queen had insisted upon full control of the Canterlot operation, and had refused to listen to any suggestion Cricket had made, she would, without a doubt, blame the entire mess that ensued solely on Cricket. He had served as commander, the military leader of the swarm, but had found out that, in spite of his own physical prowess and tactical skill, he may as well not have been there at all: the queen ran the show, and was terribly incompetent at it. A terrible actress, although nobuggy had the heart, or the guts, to tell her so, and even worse at commanding armies. Cricket had volunteered, upon becoming the youngest changeling in history to reach the lofty qualifications for the rank, only to find that it would normally have required the drawing of straws: you got the short straw, and you were the poor soul who had to serve as commander until the queen messed things up and blamed you for it. If he ever returned to the swarm, he'd be lucky if all he faced was was imprisonment or banishment: she'd likely have him extracted. He shuddered slightly. The worst of all fates: drained of all love, it meant you were alive, and not alive, forced to watch the world around you as a sort of living statue. A changeling could go mad within days after such a thing. Better, then, to remain in Equestria, and try to start a new life. Maybe it was just the meds talking, but he thought that becoming an Equestrian knight was a grand idea: he could very easily make history if he succeeded. Cricket wondered, idly, whether or not Equestria had any openings for the job. Well, whether or not they needed, or wanted, a new knight, they were going to get one... just as soon as he could walk again.