Frank Blanket rushed up the stairs. Quirkily enough, the thought of presenting the book and the details about the attacker at last somewhat invigorated him. At the same time, some of the information seemed to weigh even heavier now after what had happened in the forest than it had on the way there, when at least part of his dodging answers had been dictated by the need of circumstances. He reached the stairs at the base of which some splintered wood was lying; remnants of the hatch he had kicked in to follow Twilight and the attacker. Frank hesitated for a moment and listened. There was no sound of steps on the stairs behind him and only a slight whistling of the wind and the splashing of the rain could be heard from outside. He climbed the stairs and entered the trashed storeroom.
A slight smell of smoke was still lingering. Now that he thought about it, it seemed like an unusual stroke of good luck to Frank that the town hall had not caught fire. When he had hurried after Twilight and the attacker, he hadn't given any thought to the sparks and still glowing embers of the previous fight that had been in the room. With all the paper and wood dried up by the heat and drought of the recent times, it seemed like a miracle that the town hall hadn't burst into flames. Now the rain was pattering heavily onto the bell roof and occasionally the dark room was illuminated for an instant by a flash of lightning somewhere above Everfree. The downpour and thunderstorm outside was none of the carefully planned and arranged patterns which made up for most of Equestria's weather. It was an emergency measure, kept only just enough in check by the small teams of pegasi out there to keep it from developing into an all out storm. Perhaps it was just the kind of clearance the region needed now after the long complete lack of rain.
Frank shook off the idle thoughts and walked over to where the remains of his saddle-bags were lying. He couldn't suppress a little whimper at the sight. He had suffocated the fire of the one bag with his own body in a moment when the attacker had still been there, trying to kill him. The unlikely good luck that had kept the town hall from catching fire didn't seem to have extended to his bags. By the looks of it, they had reignited and then somehow the fire appeared to have gone out again. One of the bags had not caught fire and its content had probably suffered only minor damage. It was the one that contained some of his books, his other set of clothing and his money bag. The other bag however was mostly burned. It was the bag that had contained his stationaries, his work on cutie marks and also the strange book he had found here. Not only had his work of a very long time been destroyed, but without the book his credibility, so much challenged during the hearing already, might suffer further.
As he stepped closer to the charred bag to look if perhaps there were any remains that could yet be salvaged, his hoof hit something that was lying on the floor. Another flash of lightning momentarily revealed the treatise of Dr. Quircs. There were a few small additional scorch marks on it's cover on top of which lay Frank's quill, quivering a little from an occasional whiff of wind that blew through the broken window through which the attacker had left. Frank picked up the quill and the book hastily as if he expected for them to vanish into thin air if he left them untouched for another moment. He pocketed the quill and looked around if there was any more of his burned bag's contents to be found. A few sheets of paper were lying around, but by the look of them they were more likely to be pages from the folders that had been hurled around during the fight.
The bag had been cracked open and torn when he had landed on top of it before it had been hit by the attacker's ill-aimed spell. Most likely the book and the quill had slipped out of the bag before it had been ignited, Frank thought, and for a moment he was wondering if he would have preferred for the old book to have burned if instead his own writings would have been spared this fate. It was pointless to think about this now. No doubt, the thought of it would catch up with him later and he was fearful of when it would, but for the moment he had to maintain his demeanor. He could not let any sentiments get the better of him, not when he still had to lay out what he knew to the ponies and princesses below. Sentiments getting the better of him... Frank stared at the book he was holding.
Tonight he had tried to let them get the better of him, but for the sake of better ends. Would they understand? Princess Luna probably had, but she was different in that respect from most ponies. And apart from the vain fear of what other ponies would think of him, there was also the question what the information about the weakness of the attacker would do to them. If defeating that attacker meant turning to... but the attacker was gone. Weakened, stripped of magical power, unhinged, dissolved, scattered and... in spite of everything, the thought made Frank feel a little uncomfortable... probably dead. There was no need for them to know about this anymore. Frank cast open the book and looked at the page in front of him. Many of the pages in this old book were fractured, torn, scorched or otherwise damaged.
However much it contradicted a deep seated basic attitude, Frank grasped the page with his teeth and tore a large part of it from the book. He looked at the torn out part of the page. It contained all that he had wanted to be on it. He folded the piece of old written paper and shoved it deep into his shirt's pocket. Then he closed the book very gently, as if to make up for the rough treatment it had been given before, picked it up and turned back to the stairs leading down to the great hall where the others were waiting.
Everyone was looking at him as he rushed down the stairs.
"What took you so long, Frank?" Rainbow Dash asked.
"I had to look for the book in the darkness. Thought it was lost for a moment. I thought it was burned like— anyway, this is it."
Frank held up the tattered looking book. He took a deep bow towards Princess Celestia and, following something like a reflex, reached up to draw his hat only to realize it was not there. He remembered he had had it on back in the forest where it had helped him hear the voices of Twilight and the attacker, but he didn't remember having worn it after that. Probably he had lost it when rushing towards the magical flares or maybe during the fight itself. It had probably burned like so much had tonight. Frank swallowed, but otherwise didn't allow for any sign on his face to give away the sting he felt about the loss. He placed the book on the table between the royal sisters and walked back to his place while the two princesses opened the book and skimmed over the first page.
"Means and methods which were not always sanctioned by the laws, rules, and customs approved of by her highness Princess Celestia...?" Celestia quoted with a raised eyebrow. "By continuing to read beyond this page, the reader gives his or her agreement to accept the means by which the information herein contained were acquired...?"
Frank lowered his head despondently and resignedly. After everything that had happened, this seemed so trivial. Moreover, Dr. Quircs had at no point in his treatise specified what exactly the means and methods were which he had employed for his observations. This was a point that had baffled Frank, for the treatise contained detailed knowledge that suggested the story of how Dr. Quircs had acquired it might be no less exciting than a Daring Do novel.
"I did read on", Frank said quietly. "I saw it as a historical source and..."
He sighed. He was in no mood and didn't have the energy to make up any elaborate excuses, least of all to one who he suspected of being capable to read his mind like he could read the pages of Dr. Quircs treatise.
For his utter surprise, Princess Celestia was laughing suddenly. It was a clear and beautiful laughter that lifted some of Frank's despondency and made him look up at the Princess again. Her look was warm and sympathetic and with an ironic tone she said: "I suppose it would be unseemly for Celestia...", she glanced at the book page as if to look something up, "...the undimmed ap Eohippus, ruler of Equestria, mover of the sun and no longer acting mover of the moon to disavow the laws, rules and customs approved of by herself by reading beyond this page here in front of all her law-abiding subjects and fellow princesses. Moreover, I think everyone else here is also craving for explanations on who this attacker was and what a 'switchling' is. Therefore, Frank Blanket, please be so kind to earn my royal pardon for having read beyond this page by telling us what you read there."
The good-natured humor of Princess Celestia was more encouraging to Frank than the actual request and he began to summarize the most important points of Dr. Quircs treatise:
"Dr. Quircs describes changelings as much less individualistic than ponies, more prone to following orders and more collectivist in general. I wonder, by the way, which role the lack of a cutie mark plays as an important sign of what differs us as what we are... what each one of us is. The changelings lack such a mark of course and—"
Princess Luna cleared her throat. "Is this what the book is about?" she asked skeptically.
"Uhm... no", Frank admitted. "I'm sorry, Your Highness."
"Continue, Mr. Blanket", Princess Celestia said.
"There is no such individualism and not so clear differing among changelings as there is with the tribes of earth ponies, pegasi, unicorns and the rare union known as alicorn. However, Dr. Quircs writes that, contrary to what most ponies think if— that's what he writes— they are thinking about changelings at all, there actually is a kind of changelings different from the large majority and this kind he names switchlings."
"How do they differ from the rest? And why does he name them that way?" Twilight asked.
"He is not very specific about differences in appearance in their original form", Frank said. "Appearance is of little significance anyway to a species capable and prone to adopting the appearance of others all the time", he writes, and also that one would rarely get a chance to see one of their kind in their original appearance. He goes so far as to question whether or not they even have anything like an original appearance at all, or if what might be taken for their original form is but an appearance they deliberately pick rather than a state untampered with. What he does write is that what might be taken for an original appearance resembles the appearance of unchanged changelings, though somewhat taller.
What really differs them from other changelings are their abilities and their standing among the changelings. A switchling possesses all the shape shifting capabilities of a regular changeling, but more than that. A changeling who just takes on the appearance of somepony cannot talk with the voice of that pony, except for echoing what they have heard the pony whose appearance they have taken on say. A switchling on the other hoof can at least to some degree imitate voices, though not necessarily very convincingly. Such an imitation would probably not fool anypony who knows the one whose shape the switchling has taken on."
"The voice of the attacker sounded kind of buzzing and nothing at all like Rainbow Dash", Twilight said. "But she was talking only after we were fighting already, so she probably didn't try. Before that she didn't talk. She had signaled me to be silent, as if to warn me that someone else could hear it."
Frank nodded: "That was probably to trick you into paying no attention to her and not minding that she didn't talk."
"But is talking and imitating voices all that is so special about these switchling things?" Applejack asked, sounding rather unimpressed.
Frank shook his head: "No, that is probably the least special thing to set them apart from other changelings. As for the what else they can do... haven't you guessed it already?"
Frank was looking uncomfortable, as if the idea of having to explain it was giving him pains.
Twilight nodded, but for the surprise of everyone it was Fluttershy who said very quietly:
"They can take over the bodies and minds of others. She could replace others with herself."
She shuddered and stared at the table top as if she didn't dare to look at anybody else.
"Fluttershy?" Rarity asked surprised.
"They tried to tell me, but I didn't understand", Fluttershy whispered.
"Darling dear, who are you talking about?"
"Some of us are not one of us at some passing of everything", Fluttershy mumbled. "That's what my feathered friends were saying all the time. The attacker was some of my feathered friends at some times and I didn't understand that!"
"Nopony did", Twilight hurried to assure Fluttershy whose look left little doubt she was blaming herself. "You told me what they were saying, but I didn't understand it either."
"The birds?", Rainbow Dash asked confused, trying to make sense of what she was hearing. "Now I think I understand that this attacker can take control of the mind and body of somepony. That explains why Inkhorn and Featherscribe were so strange today. But why would anypony or any changeling who can take over the minds and bodies of ponies attack birds?"
"To move about...", Frank said without looking at anyone, "...without drawing attention. When the attacker took over a bird, she could move around freely, fly, eavesdrop, get pretty much anywhere and she didn't draw any attention from ponies that way. It also allowed her to get close to her pony victims and then strike without even being noticed at all."
"The owl!" Spike shouted. "The owl Owlowiscious attacked! Twilight, do you think that was...?"
Everypony else but Fluttershy and Frank were looking rather confused, so Twilight explained:
"When I got home yesterday after... after we were at Mr. Rich's mansion, an owl flew into the library and then suddenly she was fiercely attacked by Owlowiscious and chased away. We found Owlowiscious outside, looking somewhat confused. Today, after the hearing, Fluttershy brought me to her cottage where all the terrified birds were and the owl of the previous evening, injured by Owlowiscious and she seemed to be about to die, though none of her wounds were looking deep enough for that. She started to recover when Owlowiscious started nursing her."
"That was the attacker", Frank said. "She had taken the form of an owl who wouldn't appear so unusual that night. Dr. Quircs writes however, that some species, including many birds, are a lot more sensitive about recognizing when a conspecific has been switched to by a switchling. We ponies see, hear and smell just what we would expect to see, hear and smell when observing the actual victim of a switchling. Other species however seem to have some senses that allow them to recognize a switchling in case it has taken over a conspecific. It doesn't seem to work the same way when a switchling has taken over anyone of a different species. Had the attacker taken over a different animal, Owlowiscious might not have recognized her for what she was. That evening she planned to try to switch to your mind and body, Princess Twilight. Had it not been for Owlowiscious' attack, she might have succeeded. After they were both out of view, she put a spell on Owlowiscious that stunned him for a moment and blurred his memory of the last minutes."
"How can you even know that?" Applejack asked frowning. "How come you know such an awful lot about what she was thinking and what she was doing when nopony saw her?"
"I have seen it", Frank said, again looking rather uncomfortable. "Back in the forest when... when she was trying to switch to my mind and body."
"So that was what she was doing when she turned all smokey?" Pinkie Pie asked.
Frank nodded. "I saw her mind when she tried. I saw her memory, her intentions. Her mind was in my head for a moment, but mine was still there too. The moment she was gone, all of her mind was disappearing also. Like a dream to which one may hold some memories right after waking up but which one has completely forgotten just a few minutes after. It was like trying to hold water in your hoof and the more you try to hold it, the more it runs away. I tried to write down what I saw when I was... back from there."
"So That's what your scribbling was all about!" Applejack said and Frank confirmed with a nod.
"There is little left now. Few images from her mind which I remember directly. I do remember some things, but only as me telling myself to remember them after she was gone. Recent memories of hers were clearer than older ones. But it was all... very confusing... disturbing. Memories and thoughts that are not your own, but in your own mind, it is... most unpleasant. More difficult than it should be to keep the own mind apart from the other. Forgetting all this may be a blessing. Necessity even. That's why she cannot remember her victims' minds either. Just like Dr. Quircs wrote."
"What's that, Frank?" Twilight asked.
"In his book Dr. Quircs writes that when a switchling takes over another being, it does maintain the own mind, but beside that it also takes over all the memories of the other one. The switchling knows the intentions and wishes of the victim without adopting them as the own. The switchling knows all the victim knows and takes over such characteristics like typical facial expressions and language of the victim and some of the motor skills, though not the refinements the victim learned through experience."
"Motor skills? Is that another egghead term for... what exactly? And what do you mean with those refinements, Frank?" Rainbow Dash asked.
"The way we move", Frank explained. "For example if a switchling switched to you—"
"Not gonna happen!"
"...the switchling would have exactly your script when mouth- or hoofwriting."
"Oh", Mayor Mare said. "Hoofwriting? Mr. Blanket, do you mean that this is how...?"
Frank nodded. "Yes, the switchling took me over too for some time, but I will tell about that later. Please let me first try to explain what a switchling does, for that explains some of what she did in the last days."
Frank looked at Rainbow Dash again and there was a slightly sneering tone in his voice as he continued: "In the utterly hypothetical and unlikely and uncool event of a switchling switching to you, it would also know your memories and know all that you know, for example about flying. The switchling would know exactly like you do how to flap to perform a flight maneuver and would have your memories of having flown it before. Yet it would still be all theoretical for our switchling and when flying that maneuver, she would know exactly what to do, but it would still be like flying that maneuver for the first time when the switchling would do so. She takes over knowledge and memory, but cannot quite adopt... for lack of a better word 'experience'."
"Why is that so?" Rarity asked.
"Dr. Quircs guess is that this is because experience is almost always linked to emotion and switchlings don't take over or adopt emotion. They consume emotion. Like all changelings, switchlings feed on all the positive emotion of their victims. Joy, happiness, felicity, affection, friendship and, strongest of all, love. These emotions are something that a switchling, probably any changeling for that matter, cannot grasp the way we do. In a species of little to no individualism one changeling may seem just like the other to everyone of them. Maybe this doesn't really go for every single one, but most likely a changeling capable of really understanding and grasping these emotions as anything more than nutrition to be consumed rather than felt is about as rare and unlikely as a pony without absolutely no need or understanding for any of these emotions."
Frank shivered, closed his eyes for a moment and twitched a little.
"Mr. Blanket?" Princess Celestia asked.
"I'm sorry", Frank said, rubbing his head with one hoof. "A bit of a headache and also... I think this was the creepiest part about seeing her mind, seeing how she sees the world, how she sees us. It is difficult to describe. She does know some emotions. Triumph, amusement, satisfaction, spite, but it was all about herself. For other beings there was no sentiment whatsoever. In spite of her knowing and having seen the minds of ponies, there was no perception at all of emotions linked to the minds. She sees us or any beings as... factors in her... endeavor. Useful, not useful or a risk. Your Highness, I don't think it is really possible to describe it with what means our language provides. Having seen her mind for a moment, I still am not sure it is for our minds to understand or grasp. Much like it is not for their minds to understand or grasp the emotions they consume. Also, she would not see her actions as bad or evil… Not sure if these concepts even exist for them. I don't think I can explain it and for all the impression it left, the actual memory of it is blurry and fading further still. Usually when a switchling takes over the mind of a victim, the mind of the victim becomes... displaced. Dr. Quircs didn't write where it goes or how it goes, but while controlled the victim will not perceive anything whatsoever, nor remember anything that he or she didn't perceive."
Zecora nodded slightly:
"That is why I could not find
the memories in the victims' mind.
A memory never obtained
cannot by hypnosis or potion be regained."
"The memory of the victim only continues after the switchling leaves her or him", Frank continued. "Also, while the switchling knows the memory of the victim while controling him or her, it cannot keep any memories when leaving the victim. The only memories it will keep are memories to the own actions while controlling the victim. Switching to the minds of others, taking over all the memories, then loosing them again when leaving the victim is quite a strain. A pony's mind is not made for that and even the mind of a switchling may reach its limits when doing it too often in too short a time..."
Frank was staring at a point somewhere in the air. He remained silent for some moments so only the pattering of the rain outside could be heard.
Twilight was just about to say something to call him back from his apparent absorption when Frank resumed on his own accord.
"I think she did just that."
"What's that, Frank?" Twilight asked.
"I think the attacker switched to too many different ponies in too short a time in the last days. I am not certain but I believe that I did remember her mind as somewhat disassembled back in the forest. She has switched to many minds in the last days with hardly any intermission time for her own mind to come to rest and settle down. I am not quite certain, but I think she was beginning to... crack up. Maybe that is why she got careless, maybe that is why we could get away from her at all."
Applejack cleared her throat. "Ah get that this attacker can take over the mind and body of another pony, but if she can, why didn't she just stay with one victim but instead switched around all the time? Didn't that make it easier to notice she was there at all? Why didn't she just take over one pony and stick with that pony?"
Frank swallowed. "That would have killed both, the victim and the switchling. Dr. Quircs writes that switchlings feed on love and other positive emotions of their victims, same as other changelings do. But when they actually switch to the mind and body of a pony it is not the subtle kind of gradual draining that a hidden changeling might impose. When a switchling takes possession of the body and mind of a pony, the positive emotions of the victim will get exhausted in a much shorter time. The switchling gains a lot of magical energy from this, while the victim will be left very..."
Frank was searching for a proper word, but Applejack just nodded. She had not forgotten about the state in which she had seen Miss Cheerilee the previous day.
"From what Dr. Quircs writes, if a switchling stuck to one victim for a whole day, chances are that the victim might die from sheer extraction of any positive sentiment", Frank shuddered.
"Yet whatever happens to the victim essentially happens to the switchling while it is still controlling him or her. Dr. Quircs assumes that if the victim died while controlled, it would be as if the switchling's own body was destroyed."
There was a rolling thunder outside as if to underline Frank's last words.
After some moments Twilight asked: "There is one thing I don't understand though. Changelings are supposed to be rather... what did you say earlier... collectivist? And more prone to following orders? From what we know by now about what the attacker did it... she I mean, seems to have acted quite purposefully and independently. Not at all like changelings are supposed to act on their own."
Frank nodded.
"This is where their standing among changelingkind comes in. With a species whose members are generally so prone to following orders, there has to be someone giving the orders, someone with a more independent mind and that's the switchlings. They are recognized as leaders by the lesser members of their kind who will follow their commands."
"But don't they all do what meanie queeny Chrysalis is telling them?" Pinkie Pie piped up. "And she is locked up with all her measly, meanie minions?"
"Dr. Quircs is a bit contradictory there. On the one hoof he writes that it is essential for the order in the changeling swarm that there is only one leader giving the commands. On the other hoof he writes there are but very, very few switchlings. Fewer than alicorns among ponykind he estimates. It still sounds like there was more than one. Maybe some of what he wrote is missing, or maybe he didn't know about this for certain, but he doesn't really write anything definite there."
Frank shrugged.
"But how is it even possible...", Rarity asked, turned half to Frank, half to the high princesses, "...that in all this time nopony ever heard about these 'switchlings'? And how come that Queen Chrysalis is in command instead?"
Princess Celestia seemed to ponder the questions for some moments before she said: "I don't think that the term 'switchling' has ever been used in discourse. It appears to be the name this Dr. Quircs applied and at the same time it seems like Dr. Quircs intended to remain obscure for whatever means he used to obtain the information. But it has long been assumed, known even, that there was such a special kind to make any organization of the swarm possible. As for Queen Chrysalis being in command 'instead', I presume for her to be of exactly that kind. 'Changeling Queen' may be just the term in which we may have been thinking of what Dr. Quircs calls a 'switchling'. But it is true that 'Changeling Queen' only ever referred to Queen Chrysalis herself. I hadn't been aware that there was more than the one of her kind. One who may not hold the title of a queen or be in command of other changelings."
Frank waited until he was certain that Princesses Celestia wasn't going to say anything more before he said: "Dr. Quircs never mentions Queen Chrysalis, or any name for that matter, but from all the description I agree that she must be what he calls a switchling."
There were again some moments of silence as the notion of another changeling of powers comparable to those of Chrysalis sank in.
Princess Luna was looking at Frank with one of her utterly inscrutable looks while Princess Celestia nodded after a moment. She had lost the humorous air she had shown about not reading beyond the introduction of Dr. Quircs book. Calm and serious as it was, her voice was still friendly also when she asked: "Mr. Blanket, you said that you saw her mind, her memory and her intentions?"
Frank nodded. "When she tried to switch to me. But my own memory to it started to fade the moment I was all myself again. Like a dream... a very bad dream... a dream I would like to forget rather than cling on to, but for the information it holds about what she did."
There was compassion in the eyes of Celestia about the obvious discomfort of the colt at the memory, but the need to unravel the recent events left little room for oversensitive tenderness.
"Please tell us about what she did, Mr. Blanket!" the high princess requested.
Frank nodded and reached for the pocket of his shirt. With a rather cumbersome and fumbling movement, he brought forth a sheet of paper and put it onto the table. Everyone who had been there recognized it as the sheet which Spike had given Frank upon his urgent insistence back in the forest.
"Uh, but what is that, Frankie?" Pinkie Pie asked as she, same as everyone, was looking at the paper. "You didn't write, you made pictures!"
Frank nodded. "There was so much that I still remembered right after she was gone, but it was rapidly fading away. I had no time to spell it all out, so I tried to put it in symbols and images to help me remember."
The page was filled with small roughly scribbled images, some of which didn't make any sense at all to Twilight, but there were some that she recognized.
"Is that my cutie mark?" she asked, tapping at something that looked like a star with the other five stars only indicated by dots.
Frank nodded. "And there's a tree... the library that is", he said, pointing at a stroke with a circle on top of it, "...and Owlowiscious." He tapped at a scribble in the rough shape of an owl with the head circled. "This part is about what happened in the library yesterday evening."
"And what is that?" Pinkie Pie asked, pointing at a spiral at the bottom of the page.
Frank shook his head and made a waving movement with one hoof as if to shoo away a fly.
"Please be quiet for a moment. I try to remember and get some order into this."
He leaned low over the paper, eyeing it closely and made some movements with his hooves as if he was trying to shift the images around on the paper.
"Can I have another paper please?" he asked without looking up.
Spike produced another sheet from his pocket and shifted it over to Frank. The colt took it without looking up from the paper he was studying and produced a quill from his shirt's pocket. With a little surprise Twilight recognized it as the very one Discord had given Frank.
"Frank? You had that quill with you all the time?" she asked.
"Hmm...?" The colt wasn't looking up from the paper.
"That quill", Twilight insisted. "Did you have it in your pocket all the time?"
Frank looked at the quill and shook his head while looking at the paper again.
"No, it was upstairs. I picked it up when I got the book. One of my things that was not destroyed in the fight."
Frank had said it very soberly and yet Twilight suddenly had the image of a badly broken smoldering saddle-bag before her mind's eye. She suddenly thought of a tattered looking book of the merry adventures of Robing Hooves that a mother had read to a young Frank Blanket, who in turn had read it to his father who had been unable to read himself, but who had been happy to hear his son read it to him as Frank had mentioned during the hearing. Suddenly Twilight felt very miserable and she was wondering if the hobo student colt from Fillydelphia had lost more than the worth of six bags full of bits tonight.