CiderCon Chronicles

by SSCiderConOfficial

Chapter 6: Empathy

Bramley goggled at his mom from the bottom of the gully. He had never seen her so panicked. He had never heard the edge of terror in her voice as he had just now.

It was enough to make him re-think what he was doing.

He looked at the changeling, then at his mother, then the changeling again.
He was becoming increasingly confused, unable to reconcile his mother's fear with his own experience.
He trusted his mom, but this just didn't make sense.

He let his trust take over, and edged a step or two away from the changeling.

The changeling, already inwardly cowering at this angry mare's loud entrance, felt betrayal and sadness at Bramley's acquiescence.

He heard Bramley begin to speak. He saw, from the corner of his eye, the mare begin to quickly pick her way down the gully.

"Mama," Bramley was saying, "calm down a minute. I'm just fine." He moved closer to where the mare would reach the gully floor.

Warm Welcome's gaze had travelled from Bramley, to the changeling, to her footing all the way down the gully. When she reached the bottom, she interposed herself between Bramley and the changeling.

"Bramley." She said, not glancing back at him. "Go. I'll keep this thing here. Go get the constable."

"What? Why? Mama, I don't understand."

"That thing is dangerous", she reiterated, "I've heard of em' before. They eat ponies' souls and take their places!"

Bramley was confused before, but now he was completely lost.

A "...what?..." was all he could muster in response.

Warm Welcome was starting to get angry with Bramley's reactions when a thought occurred to her. Magic! Bramley must be under some sort of spell!

"You", she said, addressing the changeling directly for the first time. "You did this. Undo it. This spell you have on 'im."

Warm Welcome braced herself for the attack that she thought might be forthcoming. She spread her stance wider, dug in.

The changeling was dumbstruck. He was unable to conjure a single sound, let alone string several together into a coherent sentence. He stood there stock still. This was the realization of his worst fears.
Before he met Bramley, he had resigned himself to death. Bramley had given him hope, and he had begun to think that maybe there was a life for him somewhere other than the hive.

Now, his hope was crumbling. He cursed himself inwardly for letting himself feel it in the first place.

He figured that it would be like this in the end. That some other pony would come with raised voice and the threat of violence to drive him away to a cold, lonely death someplace else.

"You heard me!" The mare yelled at him.

"I... I..." the changeling stammered. He wanted to apologize for the misunderstanding. He wanted to apologize for getting Bramley in trouble. He wanted to apologize for being born.

His bewilderment manifested itself in a "FWOOSH" of colored fire. When it subsided, the changeling appearance was a representation of his roiling emotions. One yellow pegasus wing, one changeling wing, a horn that was half his own and half a yellow unicorn's, the changeling's eyes and black muzzle on an otherwise yellow face, a pink mane with a changeling's spines showing through, and a body that looked like somepony had taken pieces of a yellow pony and a changeling and stitched them together at random.

He felt tears sting his eyes. He felt a sob catch in his throat.

Then the exertion caught up with him.

A short time ago he was at death's doorstep, even with the pie's miraculous invigorating effects he was still in desperate need of rest and food.

His knees went weak, the sob finally dislodged itself from his throat and croaked forth, his vision went black.

The last things he knew before he succumbed to unconsciousness were the pain of his face hitting the ground, and Bramley's voice saying "Mama! Stop!"

The "FWOOSH" of colored fire had shocked Bramley from his stupor.

He still couldn't connect all the dots as to why his mama was so scared of the "changeling".

To him it was just another living thing that needed help.

To his mama, it was a monster from the depths of another monster's worst nightmares.

He had seen it eat, and ask for more of, his mama's pie

She said that it ate ponies souls.

He loved and trusted his mama. His trust for her, and his experience so far with the changeling were at war within him.
He was trying to come up with the right way to try and diffuse this situation, but was at a loss.
When he saw what emerged from the fire, and saw the naked despair on the changeling's face his heart broke for it.

A lifetime of being taught to take care of those weaker than himself overrode anything else he was feeling.

From behind Warm Welcome he yelled "Mama! Stop!"

There was no anger in his interjection, only assertiveness. Like the tone a parent might use to stop a child in a dangerous situation. Loud, commanding, strong.
Warm Welcome looked over her shoulder at Bramley, eyes wide with surprise.

He saw the changeling collapse, and rushed to its side.

"Bramley, get back here. You don't understand how dangerous that thing is." Warm Welcome hissed.

"Mama, I don't understand. You always taught me to care for them that need help."

"This is different." Warm Welcome replied. "That's not just some stray cat, or an abandoned raccoon. It's a monster. Those things invaded the royal wedding and tried to take over the kingdom.
They hurt a lot of ponies doing it."

"Maybe so, but this one was alone and starvin' when I found it. This one needs our help. And if we don't help, then we ain't no better than they are."

Warm Welcome watched as her son pulled the blanket over to it and carefully covered it up. Bramley removed his vest and rolled it up, placing it under the changeling's head like a pillow.

"Bramley...?" she began. She saw Bramley examine where the changeling had hit his head. There was a gash there. Bramley opened the first aid kit and hesitated, his confidence fading away before her eyes. She knew that look. Bramley didn't know what to do.

He looked up at her, a pleading look in his eyes, and said :"Mama, help me. Please."

Warm Welcome looked at her son. A boy on the verge of tears over the suffering of a creature that almost anypony else, herself included, considered a monster.

Something clicked inside her. All the pieces fell into place.

Bramley is smart .
Bramley is kindhearted.
Bramley has done what we've raised him to do. Including, she realized, standing up to her when she was acting like a bully.
Bramley is looking to me to live like I've taught him to.

Warm Welcome looked at the changeling and saw him through Bramley's eyes.

She walked over, sat down next to Bramley, and stroked his hair for a moment. She looked in his eyes and said "You did the right thing, son."

Bramley beamed at the praise, and the realization that she was going to help.

"Alright", she said, assessing the situation, "let's see what we can do for this little fella'."