The pony who had called herself Carol cut through the chilly air above the human planet like a nightmare. She had no source of illumination, but did not need it. Her sharp eyes pierced the night, and what they could not see she could pinpoint with the sensitive ears constantly swiveling about atop her head. She wore nothing but a light satchel, and in the startling chill of an Earth night there was nothing in any world that could take away her joy. Odium permitted her this, as it permitted all joys that served his greater purpose. It approved of finding joy in her work. Make no mistake, she was working.
Flight did not bring her the same kind of innocent thrill as it had when she was an innocent filly, unsullied by the hate that Equestria’s usurpers had instilled in her. She could take no happiness from dreams either, for fear she might find the pretender waiting for her there. The pretender still claimed to care for her children from the first age.
Carol knew the truth. The pretender realized the danger that Nightmare’s sons and daughters represented to the papier-mâché of their “government”, if only they would rise up together. That one had failed her; failed all her ancestors and theirs before them. She had promised a new golden age for the only ponies in all Equestria that had loved her as they ought to.
That had not been what they received.
With a start, she realized she had spotted her target, and swooped into a soundless descent on wings of thick membrane instead of feathers. Carol's real name was True Sight, and for good reason. Even miles up, she could spot a light on the ground with ease and zero in on it.
Pegasi in any world were creatures of day. The land around Alexandria was so vast they never could’ve located the escaped ponies if they had stayed in the dark. They had not, however. Far below her was a house all alone, the sort that Earth’s monsters made. Something in her would not allow her to consider how very similar it looked to the farmhouses in Equestria, right down to the orchards and the white picket fences. That thought slipped through her head like butter sliding down a hot pan, sliding out of her head and into the chill of the night sky.
True Sight would not capture the ponies, not on her own. She needed only to confirm they were actually here, then turn tail and fly back to get help. There was, after all, a changeling queen on the loose. Such beings rated even lower than the monsters of Earth in the way her master saw the world. At least monsters had dreams. Changelings didn’t even have those.
Sight casually noted that the creatures Odium seemed to like the least were those least likely to bow to his rightful rule. Real ponies rarely resisted for long. Humans, even the transformed, could cause difficulty. Changelings? Not one had served her master, not ever.
Even as she thought it, she found herself distracted by other matters. She saw motion from below and felt the wind in her mane, and the thought slipped from her grasp. As she always did, she would soon forget she ever had it. There was a duty to do here tonight, and duty was always joy. A pony was captive to a dangerous monster, and she might not even know it.
Something worked in her then, twisting her thoughts so subtly that she hardly noticed. Sight had felt that touch on her mind for so long that it was not alien anymore, the way she sometimes completely lost her train of thought, the way some memories simply ceased to matter while others suddenly became important. She had lived that way for so long that she couldn’t imagine any other way to live.
Sight forgot her fear, and the facts that there were procedures to follow and a deadly monster nearby were suddenly unimportant. She thought instead of the glory she would win for her master by slaying the beast on her own. She thought of how proud all her brothers and sisters would be, and the joy she would feel at doing the will of her master. She was more than the match of a changeling queen made out of monster. Maybe the real thing would’ve been dangerous to her. “Riley” was not the real thing.
Sight circled the house, attentive for any other sign of motion. Though she had not seen a trace of them, she knew there were deceived ponies near Alexandria tonight. The doctor had been close enough to travel here in just a few hours.
Yet the other group was apparently wiser, because she hadn’t seen them. That would have been the greatest prize tonight. In the absence of it, she would settle for a little pest control.
The house was small, only a single story. There was no motion at the windows or the grounds, other than the ordinary movements of Earth’s animals. The light that came from inside was that of a fireplace, blasting light into the night so intensely she had to look away at first lest she blind herself.
She saw the sleeping form then, resting on one of the gigantic pieces of furniture the lumbering monsters of Earth had used, relaxing in the warmth of the fire.
It was, unmistakably, the changeling. Its thick armor shimmered and danced with the embers of a fire, wicked horn twisting up from her forehead. Sight alighted on a nearby tree, watching for several minutes. She judged the breathing of the young queen, watching to see if there was any sign of consciousness.
She saw none, only the peaceful sleep of a little filly after a hard day. Yet that comparison too slipped away from her, leaving only hatred behind. A full ten minutes went by, and she still saw no sign of another pony, or anything other than the steady rising and falling of her chest.
She did not fear the strange things that some of these beings could do to the minds of ponies. Her master was greater than they; he would protect her if the creature woke. Yet it wouldn’t. If she did her job now, it would never wake again.
Since she was only a scout, True Sight had none of the powerful human weapons that could kill a pony from great distance; the ones that left metal in your chest and took a skilled doctor to remove. She hadn’t been intended to fight tonight.
Night Speaker would forgive her when she returned with the little demon’s head. Or whatever part of it Odium required her to carry. She kept a little knife with her, the kind made from obsidian and sharpened with unicorn magic. The blade, thus made from the frozen blood of the planet, had magical properties that no metal blade could match.
It could cut through the thick chitin of a changeling queen. It would only take one thrust; carefully timed. Even if she couldn’t convince the pegasus to come back with her then, she would be out of danger. Cloudy Skies would see reason.
And if she didn’t, their master would make her see. That was the way of things. The luxury of choosing to make the wrong choice would be taken away. The world was in too much danger to allow ponies to risk failure. Maybe in a few decades, when the true Lord of ponies sat atop the throne again. Not now.
When Sight determined waiting would no longer improve her odds, she made her way on silent hooves up to the edge of the farmhouse. Nopony anywhere could match the stealth of a bat who didn’t want to be heard. She took each step carefully, blending her movements into the natural sounds of the night. The chirping of crickets and the hooting of owls covered her steps, and the creek of the door, and the sound of sliding fabric as she removed her ritual dagger from its sheath.
The thought of invoking such violence on another pony absolutely revolted her. This thing was no pony, though. An act of depravity transformed to an act of justice. As she crept up on the changeling, she let the night surround and embrace her. In the darkness outside, she would’ve been invisible.
Under the false light of human technology, the magic of her species worked flawlessly. The fire that burned a few feet from the sleeping changeling was not false light, but true heat from wood once living. There was magic in that; enough that she knew she would be seen by anypony looking for her. It didn’t matter when there was nopony awake to see you. Soon, there would be nopony alive.
She hardly noticed as she stepped off the wood of one part of the floor and onto a thick carpet, though it wasn’t quite so soft as she would’ve expected. She stopped, rising up to her hind legs above the resting body. She transferred her dagger from her mouth to her front hooves, preparing to bear down on the sleeping form of the changeling queen. Alien joy surged in her, triumph that was not her own but that was still owed to her, somehow.
She never got to strike. She felt sudden, white-hot agony travel up her legs, sending her whole body into convulsions. Loud clicking sounded in her ears, and she couldn’t determine the source. As she fell, the pain got much worse. Wherever the strange magic touched, it made her whole body extend and flex completely without her suggesting it. Nausea filled her, though it wasn’t actually severe enough to make her throw up. She lost her knife, twitching and spasming wildly on the ground.
The changeling queen sat up, pushing off her blanket. There was no sleepiness in her eyes. Her voice bubbled with childlike mirth, with the strange echoes characteristic of her species. “I think you got her Sky. You can stop.” The burning sensation stopped, though her body kept twitching and flopping around the floor for a few seconds more. Her vision was still watery, and she could only make out vague details.
She heard the voice of the pegasus quite distinctly, coming from a few feet away. “Guess so. I didn’t know these things worked on horses.”
“It’s cuz we’re so tiny.” The changeling rounded on her, leaning over the edge of the couch and baring her teeth at Sight.
Just like that, their roles were reversed. Queens were dangerous creatures; far more dangerous than common ponies. To be captured by one was certain death, or much worse. The doctrine told her that she would be lucky if this one killed her. At least she would die as herself that way.
There was something worse than the pain of it, though. The pride and elation in her mind hadn’t faded. The touch of her master’s influence continued to approve of her. It didn’t fill her with anger, didn’t give her the strength to turn and run. Rather, it filled her head with flax and cotton and stole all will to fight.
Did her master… want her dead? She had no strength, and could do no more than lay on her back and wait for whatever the changeling was about to do. What had she done? True Sight had been willing to give up everything to come to this world! She had given up her comfortable life, given up the chance of ever seeing her loved ones again. Ultimately, she had sacrificed a lifetime of dreams on Odium’s altar.
In the next instant, she felt something worse than the alien magic that had paralyzed her. She felt her master’s presence flee, leaving her utterly and completely alone. Left to die, or worse.
Only that wasn’t what happened. “Sorry about the taser.” Sky rested a hoof on the strange object she had carried, which Sight could now see had something metallic connecting it to the floor. Actually, she was wrapped in metal, though it was something she hadn’t noticed. Metal wires finer than any Equestrian smith could draw, thin enough she should’ve been able to snap them. She hadn’t, though. Whatever they were made from was stronger than steel. “It’s just, we have a few questions for you.” Sky closed the distance, looking far angrier than Riley. Actually, the Changeling began to retreat, looking almost bored.
“Don’t fight, or I’ll have to zap you again. We just want to talk.” She nodded, her face growing dark. “I actually mean that! Not like when Ryan said it and he did all sortsa magic to me…” She shivered. “We’re actually just going to talk.”
“Torture.” She coughed, her voice coming out ragged. She nodded towards the thing in her hand. “That… is an enchanted torture device, yes? You’re going to shock me with it until I betray my master?” That would never happen! It didn’t matter if she felt more alone now than ever. It didn’t matter that she had apparently been betrayed into the hooves of the enemy. Sky was evil, and she was probably a slave to the changeling.
“No.” Sky said it so quietly, so disarmingly, that Carol knew immediately it was true. “We just want to ask why you’re doing this.” She sat down on her haunches. “And hopefully, convince you to help us get Adrian back. But if we can’t…” She shrugged. “We’ll let you go. We’ll let you go anyway. What are we supposed to do with a hostage?”
The changeling nodded. “It doesn’t make sense to keep you trapped once we’re done. Neither of us is willing to hurt you, so keeping a hostage will be dumb.”
Everything True Sight knew told her the pony and the monster were lying. Yet everything she knew about the way to judge behavior told her they were telling the truth. It was far more effective than torture ever could have been. She had been mentally prepared for torture all her life. Kindness, on the other hand, honesty… those were far more painful.
“Here.” Without warning, Sky tossed a blanket over her shoulder. She kicked the knife away with a hoof, then helped Sight into a sitting position. Sight was too weak to fight, but she wouldn’t have even if she could. Striking out against a pony that was helping her just wasn’t part of the spectrum of things she could do. It was beyond her capacity. Her entire world, a world of moral absolutes until moments before, had suddenly gone gray.
This was going to be a difficult night.