Chapter 5: The Licence to Will
David followed Exuviae as they wound their way through the tunnels. Exuviae explained that the passages were built following the most stable configuration, not necessarily the most direct. Though the changelings had occupied the temple for quite some time, they weren’t confident in aggressively expanding it. It used the existing temple design where it could, but some modifications were made. It was much like the off-shooting branch of a tree, if the tree grew downwards. Actually, now that he thought about it, the corridors were more like roots. David shrugged; it was yet another thing that was way beyond him.
Some of the walls showed what looked like crude changeling graffiti. When David asked about them, and what they meant, Exuviae merely smiled and told him that it was probably best if he didn’t know. Instead, she told him of the temple walls and the carvings made by the ‘ponies’ that the changelings were contending with.
Passing some of the connecting tunnels, he saw walls that were carved with the distinct features of ponies Exuviae had mentioned. The ponies and other figures were surrounded by strange symbols of varying sizes. Though the simplified depiction of ponies interested David, among the ponies were scenes of humans. The humans were mostly androgynous figures, often shown in the standing position without clear features like clothing or anything that he would recognisably match with Earth.
The vague nature of the humans carved into the wall set David wondering about how Exuviae so easily identified him. He scanned the carvings more closely, seeing ponies performing various acts, from offering food, to what looked like acts of supplication, and even rituals where humans were apparently the centre of the proceedings.
“They are beautiful carvings.”
David started. Exuviae hadn’t spoken a word for a while, so her speech threw him off guard.
“Y-Yes,” he stammered. “They’re quite inventive.” He didn’t know what else to say.
Exuviae stopped at one of the carvings and pointed at one of the scenes showing a human bowing down to touch a pony. “Since you’ve offered to help us, David, you might be pondering how we’ve been able to find you.”
David shrugged, suppressing his feelings. “The thought crossed my mind.”
Exuviae turned around. “When a human enters into the world, they often find themselves at the pivotal centre of the Age’s conflict. I wasn’t expecting an arrival of a human, in fact, I was still convinced you were a myth. Funnily enough, your arrival at a location so close to our home presented a wonderful opportunity. The details aren’t important but I told one of my best infiltrators to sneak into the neighbouring town and retrieve you. It seems they were disrupted, so they couldn’t recover you the first time, but the second time netted us both of you.”
The first time? When was the first time? He put the question to the side. Instead, he asked about something that had been bothering him from the beginning.
“You know, you always talk about me being some mythical being, but most ponies didn’t recognise me, and those that did weren’t that surprised.”
Exuviae tilted her head thoughtfully. “Where you come from, I assume humans are commonplace. I’ve heard tell you come from another world entirely.”
David nodded, unable to voice his answer as an unexpected wave of homesickness swept through him. He concentrated on a wall carving as he wrestled for control over his emotions.
“Interesting.” Exuviae chuckled as she continued down the passage. “If a pony from this world appeared in yours, would you be so startled?”
The question was surprising enough to knock him out of his melancholic mood. “Well yes,” he replied incredulously. “For one, they can talk.”
Now it was Exuviae’s turn to express surprise. She turned around to look at him. “Are there not other species on your planet that are sapient?”
David shook his head. “No, that would be strange.”
Exuviae stared at him for a long time before answering. “To us, you’re the strange one. How can only one species capable of language, culture, thought, and civilisation arise? Surely there would be numerous possibilities for such life to flourish?”
David grew pensive. “I never really thought about it, but I guess I can see what you mean. Barring the fact that unicorns can talk, if one appeared in my world, people would more likely believe it’s a hoax than anything. Seeing one would look like something out of a myth, but they’d invent a number of excuses to explain it. In fact, some ponies didn’t seem to mind me being here, like I wasn’t anything special. I mean there was a little interest, but they didn’t really cause a massive fuss around it.”
Exuviae nodded, her smile showing that she was glad he understood her point. “Exactly,” she said, “the mind is resistant to the fantastical on many levels. It would simply not occur to most of them that you might be real. You are a myth, or something else that can be explained away.” She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, her mouth twisted in grim amusement. “You look fairly similar to some native creatures of Equestria, though some would lean towards explaining you away from existence by the mere fact of others with a similar form.”
“What made you believe that I was really a human?”
Exuviae snorted. “I didn’t. I thought you weren’t real. That’s why I had you brought here. You were a side plan that I thought would never bear fruit.”
David gaped at her. “But you seemed so…”
“Desperate? Reliant? Hopeful?” Exuviae smiled. “I’m too old to believe in myths and fables. I deal with facts. If you exist, you’re real, and I must change my plans accordingly.”
David shook his head. “What if I wasn’t real?”
“Then I would have continued my former plans.”
“Which were…?”
Exuviae declined to answer, instead changing the topic. She flicked a hoof, as if to swat away his question. “I thought I would have a hard time convincing you, but I’m glad you weren’t with them long enough to poison your view of us.”
David thought about pressing her for details, but he instinctively knew that Exuviae wouldn’t give up any information she didn’t want to, and besides, it would only annoy her, which he definitely didn’t want to do. Still, the enmity between them seemed so deep and furrowed. The very language seemed steeped with clear animosity.
“What makes you such an enemy? Or them?” he asked tentatively.
Exuviae frowned, her hoof dragging along the carvings. “We’re not enemies, per se, we are just destined to clash. They are our source of nourishment, we are their predators.”
“Predators?” He shivered. These creatures ate other sapient beings? He found himself having taken an involuntary step back.
Exuviae grinned at his expression. “Scared?” she whispered. “Surprised? Maybe you should be, it makes it all the better. Changelings feed on emotions. We don’t feed on flesh.” She stared off into the distance in a way that made David uncomfortable even looking at it.
“H-How?”
Exuviae blinked at him. “Do you know how you feed? Do you know how your body turns nourishment to energy? There are some in our Swarm that may know, but we don’t dedicate much beyond surviving, so maybe that is a question for future generations of changelings. In our current time, there are none to explore it.” Her face twisted in bitter recollection. “There’s so much fear, mistrust, and hate that it’s difficult, even for me, to see past that.”
“Even for you?”
Exuviae didn’t reply to that. Her gaze had been pensive, but now it hardened into a frightening look that made David forget to take a breath. A slow smile spread grimly at his response. “A matter for another date, if I still have the time. Now, we must meet with a few intruders that have made their way into our home.”
David rushed to catch up with the suddenly accelerated pace the Queen set as she led him down the remainder of the tunnel. Her abrupt dismissal left him spinning. She was hiding something for sure. He didn’t know what it was that Exuviae was hiding, but for now it seemed like a secret that Exuviae wanted to keep buried. Truthfully, David was a little scared to find out, and maybe a little grateful that Exuviae had decided to postpone it for another time. In his mind, Exuviae was a desperate Queen trying to save her people. That she would turn to a myth of all things showed what sort of a bind they were in. At the same time, her intense pride was nothing short of what he had expected to come from royalty. Were her choices at odds with her conscience?
David returned from his wandering thoughts. He cleared his throat conspicuously as he thought about his role in the bizarre act of this world. “Intruders? You mean ponies? How did they get here?”
Exuviae snorted derisively. “I suspect because I had made it obvious to them. It took them long enough.”
David let the silence speak for itself. When Exuviae didn’t take the opportunity, he spoke his mind. “And this was a good idea because…?”
Exuviae cocked her head. “I’m still not used to explaining myself to another. Be glad, human, not many have held privy to a changeling’s mind. Especially a Queen. Change is in order, perhaps?” She chuckled softly. “Even as I say that, my, my is it hard.” Seeing David’s expectant look, she continued, flicking her tail in shrewish disregard.
“Even with your help, we’re on the verge of extinction. Changelings haven’t progressed since the beginning. All our advancements, all our achievements, all our legacies have boiled down to the simple size of our Swarm. The minotaurs, the griffons, the yaks, even the dragons have made efforts to keep up with Equestria. Meanwhile, the changelings fight amongst ourselves and we’re rooted out as other races see fit. So after… inviting you here, I ordered some of my changelings to return, undisguised.” She shrugged, as if she could dismiss the morality of her actions with the mere gesture. “The only way forward is with the ponies..” She grimaced. “No matter how some of us try to deny it, it is becoming fact.”
“Do the other changelings agree, then?”
Exuviae laughed, but it was a harsh laughter laced with bitterness that seemed all the lonelier in the tunnels. “No,” she replied in a flat tone. “To the others, I’ve lost my mind.” She sighed. “I’m tired of that.” She looked David in the eyes. “I’m tired of a lot of things…”
Ahead of him, David could make out the deep void that was a part of the wide circular vista they’d seen from before. They stopped at the mouth of the tunnel and took in the view once more. During their conversation, David had lost track of time and they had descended quite far into the pit.
Exuviae shook her head, the motion seemingly discarding her unpleasant thoughts. She smiled at him, this time a lot more warmly than he thought possible. “I just want you to know that I’m grateful. I’m not used to expressing that emotion, but it seems fitting that a miracle in the flesh would be the only one that made it possible. You might ask why you’re so special? You may not have the powers you profess, you might have the abilities you claim, but for the first time you’ve given us a rare thing that we’ve long thought was lost. Hope.”
She took a deep breath and brought back the armour of her former personality, her open features quickly transforming into one of petrifying intimidation. She grinned easily at his expression. “Changelings may be called two-faced, but I think you’ll find there’s only one soul underneath these masks of ours.”
Swallowing, David could only nod. He’d never get used to how Exuviae could flip her outward emotions on a dime.
“Do not fall back on your promise, David,” Exuviae warned solemnly. “You have no conception of the retribution a Queen is capable of when their swarm is at stake.” She relaxed her heated gaze as he nodded. “Now, let’s meet our guests.”
———————
Exuviae led him down yet another connecting passage. He noted that there were changelings lined up among them, all eyeing him impassively as he walked past. Unlike before, there were some that dipped their head as he met their gaze. With a comprehending shiver, he realised that these changelings had much the same expectations as their Queen did. They probably believed he had the power to change the course of history. He would have laughed at the absurdity of the situation if it weren’t so tragic.
It was only a couple of days ago that he was fetching his misplaced shoes at Terminal 691. That he was a mostly unknown worker within airport logistics that laboured with simple names and simple numbers. All he had to do was record the ins and out. Load and unload. Lives were entered into his registry and checked out. His job had been so simple he had no trouble imagining that another replacement had probably been found. He wouldn’t be missed. He was one of the most forgettable people around. Even so, that had been his life, and he’d been happy. Being comfortable was comforting. Sticking to routine was routine. Living simple was as simple as it got.
Being this… human arbiter wasn’t like him at all. He wanted to go back, sure, but there were probably other ways—ways that didn’t involve changelings, ponies, and international conflict. Other, less risky, options. But Exuviae’s look had reminded him of the little things he’d seen. A girl leaving her doll behind on a bench and him racing through a crowd to give it back. A wallet, missing, returned. Offering to close up for Mike when his wife had suddenly gone into labour. They all had the same, desperate look. No. Hers was more intense. He couldn’t leave her alone when her expression had seemed so… human.
“David?”
He snapped himself out of funk he’d sunk into. They had stopped, arriving at a fairly nondescript t-junction. To the left lay an s-bend, occluding the view further ahead, but on the right was a clear corridor that turned off at a more natural angle.
“Beyond this point are two rooms. We’ve kept our ‘visitors’ in the left room. Would you like to come along? It should prove helpful to your new task.”
Why was she phrasing it like she was inviting him?
“I want you to do this your way,” she said in response to his overt surprise. She chuckled. “No, I can’t read minds, but I can read your emotions like a proverbial book. You wear it all over your face, just like the ponies, very straightforward and simple.” She gestured once more. “You are free to decline if you do not wish to see the ponies.”
David shifted his feet. “Alright, but I can’t speak their language, do you think you could do the same thing you did to me?”
Exuviae shook her head before he could finish his sentence. “What I’ve done for you is simply how all changelings communicate. We have that advantage, but there’s no need to learn it the hard way that other creatures might have to. No matter, I simply need to relay your message.” Exuviae licked her lips. “Are you ready?”
“No,” David replied honestly, “but I’m here, all I have to do is try.”
Exuviae smiled. “Then let’s begin.”
——————
“Why are they all staring at me like that?”
“Probably for the same reason, because you’re acting so strange.”
“Am I acting strange?”
Mortimus sighed. Despite his initial shock, Mortimus had recovered quickly, his excitement died down lightning fast as Secant became curious of the world around her and mostly ignored his questions. Not maliciously, mind you, more because Secant didn’t know the answers to them. Questions like ‘Where did you come from?’, ‘What are you if you’re not a human?’ and ‘Can you stop touching me?’ were mostly met with a clueless smile and a cocked head that made it hard for Mortimus to stay angry at her. At least she thought he was trying not to be angry. It was hard to tell.
“Can you stop gawking at everything around you and stay close?” Mortimus threw up his hooves, as he darkly reflected on why he felt compelled to help this crazy creature out. He supposed that it had something to do with the fact that Secant was the only other creature that would bother speaking with him for more than ten minutes at a time. He made an effort to soften his tone. “It’s easy to get lost in a big city.”
——————
Mortimus’ own deliberation unbeknownst to Secant, the former-Dweller delighted in taking in the weird sights and smells that filled the mortal world. It was difficult trying to stop because everything new she experienced demanded her attention. It was hard trying to ignore it, partly because she’d only read descriptions and seen some of these things in the Records, but mainly because her brain kept receiving constant blaring signals.
Food! Ponies. Ah, stranger! It’s okay, nothing happened. What’s that? Shiny! What’s that? Looks fuzzy. What’s that? A disappointed pony.
There was Mortimus again with his look of disapproval. She’d learned to read that emotion as something that Mortimus found unsatisfactory about her performance. Away from the confines of reality emotions were free-floating concepts that were easily grasped and universal.
Secant couldn’t help grinning again. It felt so good to be alive!
Experiencing mortality? It was novel. Exciting! Except death. Death wasn’t so fun. Oh well, she’d come to that when it came. Apparently that was how mortals did it here. Mortimus told her. He was ‘somewhat of an expert’ on it, he said. Oh, speaking of which, he was looking at her again. She stared back at him for a while, then realised he was waiting on her.
“Sorry,” she said, slightly abashed. “Something caught my eye.”
“Something’s always catching your eye,” he grumbled, but dismissed it with the flick of his tail. He beckoned her. “Come on, we’re not far.”
“From the train station?” Secant grinned excitedly. “I’ve always wanted to see one of those.”
“Yes, yes, and you can touch it as well, just don’t bother the other ponies.”
Secant nodded, feeling the faint tinge of embarrassment again. The first moment they had stepped outside, she had raced around trying to touch all the ponies. She didn’t know that they could come in all different shapes, sizes and colours! It was like that thing she read in the Records… candy? Colourful, bright, soft candy! Then Mortimus told her that it was a bad thing and she felt the delicious sensation of mortal embarrassment. Mortal embarrassment was so different to normal embarrassment. It came with red cheeks and an uncomfortable sensation in the chest. So unique!
“Secant? Secant!”
Secant stopped herself from crashing into a pole. How did mortals deal with just one conscious thought process? It seemed to take up everything.
Mortimus sighed once more. He’d been doing a lot of that since he met her. She didn’t know if he started after meeting her, but the frustrated expression was something Secant was starting to learn was mainly her fault. It made her feel the same way when an Auditor dropped by.
“Sorry,” she said again, skirting the pole. She was saying that word a lot.
Mortimus nodded, then catching sight of a sign up ahead, he seemed to relax. “Well, we’re here.”
“Where are we going?” Secant asked. “I heard trains take you to other places.”
For once, Mortimus smiled. “You heard right. We’re going to Canterlot, the capital city of Equestria.”
Secant cocked her head. “Why?”
Mortimus gestured to the pages clutched in her hand. “You wanted to find out where this other human is, right?”
Secant nodded.
“Then the only ponies I know who could help you would be the Princesses.”
“Princesses…” Secant licked her lips as her memory drawing images of royalty, fine dresses and being trapped in towers. Curious. “It’ll go well, won’t it?”
Mortimus didn’t reply. Some things were best left unsaid.
——————
Twilight bounded from the centre of the room as the human entered.
“You’re alright!”
The human’s eyes widened as he took a step back.
“I can understand her!” he exclaimed.
Twilight skidded to a stop. “I can understand you too!”
“Really?” Celestia said curiously. “I cannot.”
“Nor can I,” Luna added with a frown. “Peculiar. Mayhap there is a cause for this?”
The human reared his head in shock as he took in Celestia and Luna.
“I can understand them too!” he blurted, then more quietly. “Why is that?”
“What is he saying?” Celestia whispered to Twilight.
Twilight repeated his words, while the human caught on to the fact that they couldn’t understand him. He glanced back, said something indistinguishable, then gestured at them.
“Well,” a sinister voice echoed, “ this is not my doing.”
Twilight, Celestia and Luna immediately stiffened, their postures going from surprise to guarded in a heartbeat.
Celestia was the first to speak as the changeling queen stepped into the room. It felt smaller, as if her very presence had filled up the rest of the space, making it uncomfortable to even breathe.
“Exuviae,” Celestia said neutrally.
“Celestia.”
Luna’s tone was less forgiving. “Exuviae.”
Exuviae’s mouth twitched in amusement. “Luna.”
Twilight studied the changeling with a furrowed brow. “Exuviae?”
“Ah, the new Princess. Twilight Sparkle, was it?” Exuviae smiled wickedly. “A talented one she is, or as I hear told that is. Perhaps a candidate for further ascension?”
“Ascension?” Twilight queried. “But I already—”
“Queen Exuviae,” Celestia said sharply.
Exuviae smiled, but the emotion didn’t touch her eyes as she regarded each of them frostily. Each were staring at each other with a mixture of caution, curiosity and rancour. Doubtless it would have continued for longer had not the human broken the silence by coughing apologetically. Everyone flinched, but Exuviae recovered first, dipping her head in grim amusement.
“Yes, my… apologies, Princesses, old traditions, you understand.”
“Of course,” Celestia said smoothly. Her tone was carefully neutral as she continued. “We also apologise for intruding. We’re only here for Rainbow Dash and the human. We’ll pick them up and be on our way.”
Exuviae smirked. “You may, of course, recover your friend; Rainbow Dash was it? You’ll find she is unharmed.” Exuviae’s eyes hardened. “You will not take the human.”
Twilight interjected this time, her jaw locked at a determined angle.
“Putting aside that we’ve had custody of the human from the start,” Twilight began with a derisive snort, “you’ve crossed Equestrian territory without consulting the Equestrian Immigration Consulate.” Twilight lifted an eyebrow. “I’m afraid you have relinquished the right to hold the human as a result of travelling without a customs permit. Which means you must remand the human to us in the interim.” Twilight leaned back with a satisfied look as Celestia gave her a small, proud smile and a light chuckle.
“So you see,” Luna said, picking up where Twilight left off, “we will be taking Ms. Dash and the human back.”
Exuviae didn’t look as concerned as Twilight thought she should be. The changeling Queen merely cocked her head. “Remind me, Princesses, what the definition of sovereign territory is?”
Feeling the outlay of a trap, but unable to see it, Twilight answered the question slowly. “A territory governed by an independent governing body.”
Exuviae nodded with a sly grin. “Ah I see. And what determines if a territory lies within Equestria? How did Equestria first decide if a block of land belonged to them?”
Twilight frowned, glancing at Celestia and Luna. They both glared at Exuviae, apparently knowing what was going on. Twilight continued reluctantly. “If an unclaimed area has been marked by another governance there would have to be negotiations. If not, then it is claimed for Equestria.”
Exuviae nodded thoughtfully. “I see. Well you’ll be glad to note that we have been living in these caverns for a long time. Nearly two thousand years to be exact. Before that, we were living in the lands around.” She paused for effect. “Before Equestria had been established. I dispute your sovereignty of the human. We have breached no laws.”
“But that’s a technicality!” Twilight spluttered, knowing full well she had invoked the same strategy on the Queen. She didn’t mean to sound like a hypocrite, but they were the ones that were right, weren’t they?
Twilight stomped a hoof. “You’ve had to have crossed our lands to take the human and Rainbow.”
Exuviae shook her head in mock disappointment, looking at Twilight, but somehow not addressing her. “My, my, a new Princess you are certainly proving yourself to be. Do you have evidence? Do you have proof? What have you brought in corroboration of your baseless accusations?”
Twilight groaned. She doubted the information, but even if it weren’t true, they’d have to carry out an investigation. If an investigation were to result from this diplomatic parry, Exuviae had the right to stay in her own neutral territory while they disputed the claim. Meanwhile, the human would be stuck in limbo.
“We know—” Twilight stopped as Celestia raised a hoof, gently taking over. The alicorn regarded Exuviae coolly as she spoke. “Enough games, Exuviae. What need have you for a pony and a human?”
“Well, Princess…” Exuviae stressed the title in a way that sounded like it were inferior to her own. “As it happens I have no use for a pony. The human, however, will be immensely useful.”
“What nefarious scheme are you up to?” Luna demanded, nostrils flaring.
“Nefarious? Hardly.” Exuviae rolled her eyes. “While I don’t relish the idea of going up against two and a half—” she glanced sidelong at Twilight as she flushed with ire “—alicorns, I must insist that it is none of your business. I see you can communicate with the human. Some of you at least.”
Twilight made to say something, but stopped when she heard the human speak.
“Can I say something?” He frowned at all of them while adding testily, “I’m not some kind of baggage to be fought over.”
Twilight turned with the others, almost forgetting that the human had been right there with them during the exchange. Exuviae tilted her head, signalling him to continue. Why was the changeling Queen so confident? Why wasn’t the human running away from Exuviae? Didn’t the human realise that he was in trouble? Had the Queen already drained him of emotions to the point that he was a willing drone? Twilight gritted her teeth as she studied him. No, that’s not it. He looked perfectly lucid.
The human stepped forward. He looked nervous, as if he suddenly found himself on a stage with a spotlight in his eyes. He paused, took a moment to gather his courage, then spoke. “Hello all, my name is David. First of all, I want to thank you for coming. I appreciate how you’ve helped me out when I was falling and when I was lost.” He turned to Exuviae. “Also thank you for not considering me food.”
Exuviae chuckled, while the rest stayed silent. Twilight’s ears twitched. She felt there was something else more important that the human wanted to talk about, so she remained silent along with the other princesses. Also, for the first time, Twilight heard his name. It was composed of syllables she was familiar with, but the combination sounded alien, like the letters shouldn’t have been arranged in that way.
She wondered what his name meant. If his name was anything like a pony’s name it would have some meaning, right? Kind of like that game in kindergarten when you try to guess what you grew up to be just by your name? That kind of thing. The human continued, snapping her out of her temporary musings.
“Secondly, why are you fighting over me? What is the value of a human?” David ploughed on before any of them could reply. “I’m not special, but even if I was, is it worth getting into a fight with each other over it?” David swept the room as if to dare anypony to dispute it. When nopony did, he continued. “I think I can decide for myself where I want to go and what I want to do.” He hesitated and cast his gaze around, clearly ill at ease in delivering a strongly worded speech. When every pony continued to stay silent, he carried on. “Thirdly, Exuviae has not been very kind to me.”
Exuviae’s smile, so confident, had frozen on her muzzle. Twilight admitted that she took a small amount of pleasure in seeing the smug Queen lose a little of her confidence.
“If I take your actions at face value, you have kidnapped me, forced me to follow you, and shoehorned me into the dilemma of a lifetime. What is anyone supposed to think about that?”
As one, Twilight, Celestia and Luna looked at Exuviae. She glared back. Twilight had seen the confused surprise… and the look of betrayal on her face. Twilight suddenly felt like a stranger in a quarrel between friends. What was the deal with the human and Exuviae? Was she covetous and expected David to play along? Surely not, there seemed to be more than that.
David’s apparent stage discomfort faded away as he returned Exuviae’s look. It was strangely sympathetic. “Despite all of that, it was done out of desperation. I used to work in a place where domestic laws were mostly suspended where international cooperation was a necessity.” He sighed, raking his hand through his hair. “There’s a reason they want me and I couldn’t say no. That doesn’t justify her actions, but I’m sure she will make it up to you and me at a later point in time.”
“I’ll do no such—” Exuviae strangled the end of her sentence under David’s suddenly intense look. The way he went from meek and uncertain to commanding and intimidating was somewhat disconcerting. Maybe there was more to the mystery human than Twilight thought. Some investigation was probably required. If only they could get their hooves on the human…
Exuviae pursed her lips, but nevertheless nodded, much to the surprise of all the ponies present. “If that is what you think is best, then so shall it be. I… apologise for your treatment and some of the… harsh words from before.” Exuviae straightened stiffly and gave each princess a nod. “Now, if you will excuse me, I have some things to discuss with the human. I think it’s clear that he has made his choice, though probably not in the way I envisioned.”
Twilight thought the Queen might pause there and give David a meaningful glance, but she didn’t hesitate for a moment, turning around abruptly. “You may leave anytime you wish with your friend. Any one of my changelings will guide you out.” Exuviae gestured for the human to follow. David sent them an apologetic glance, hesitating briefly, before leaving hastily.
As they departed, Twilight let go of a breath she didn’t know she was holding.
“That went well,” Twilight muttered bitterly.
“It certainly did,” Celestia replied.
Twilight looked up in surprise. She expected the other princesses to share the same sentiment, but Celestia was smiling and Luna was outright grinning.
“What?” Twilight huffed. “Am I missing something?”
Celestia positively beamed. “Queen Exuviae has just showed us her cards. She’s up to something and the human is at the centre of it.”
Twilight frowned. “What? But how does—”
“It means,” Luna cut in, “that we need to try harder to get ahold of this ‘David’. If Exuviae wants this human, then he is the key to her plans.”
“Oh,” Twilight said. “I see… wait, what?”
Celestia regarded Twilight with a patient smile. “You know a little about humans, correct?”
Twilight nodded her mouth drawing into a pout. “Yes, but only hearsay.”
Celestia fixed Twilight with a look that bore down thousands of years of distilled wisdom that filtered through her voice as she spoke. “Well, I happen to know a little more about humans. I might have been downplaying the significance of what I knew about humans from before.”
“O-oh.” Twilight shifted uncomfortably under her gaze. “W-What do you know?”
Celestia sighed, shaking her head. “Not much, but not nothing either. ‘David’ may not think he’s special, but humans that have been sighted or mentioned have invariably been endowed with strange powers. Powers that vary from the incredible to the world-shattering.”
Morbidly curious, Twilight leaned in. “What sort of powers?”
Luna replied for her sister. “We do not know the details, but from what we have gathered, humans were a recurring myth in our time. It might have been popular thousands of years ago, but we thought nothing of it. There was no concrete evidence to suggest they existed at all, apart from a strange coincidence of accounts.”
“Which doesn’t say anything,” Twilight muttered, “only that ponies agreed on the same myth.”
“There are a lot of gnarling details,” Celestia continued. She tapped the wall of the cavern with her hind hoof and glanced at the entrance. “Though the walls here doubtless have ears, what I can tell you is that humans have a lot of power.” She raised an eyebrow. “Think Discord, but less in control.”
The thought of something as powerful as Discord wandering the land sent shudders through Twilight’s frame. “What would Exuviae want with a human as powerful as that?” She bit her lip. “Are humans even that powerful? I didn’t sense anything from David when I met him…”
Celestia raised an eyebrow. “Maybe we should find out if the legends speak the truth?” She waited with a slight smile that reminded Twilight of all the times she had lessons with the Princess.
“How?” Twilight asked in barely concealed frustration. She tried to keep a lid on her exasperation, but the problem dominated her headspace. “He’s here with Exuviae, there’s no way we could run tests on him, even if he would allow us!”
“Ah,” Celestia said patiently. “But there are other ways to bundle hay, Twilight. We already have some interesting pieces of information that fit into the puzzle.” She tilted her head meaningfully. “Right under our noses.”
Luna trotted forward, giving Twilight a placid smile while rolling her eyes at Celestia in the process. “Enough teasing, sister! Twilight does not need to be led around like a student.” She turned to Twilight. “What my sister means to say is that we can find out back at Ponyville.”
Twilight’s eyes widened as she realised what Celestia and Luna had been getting at.
“Of course! He’s given us plenty of examples. Come to think of it, a lot of strange things have happened on his arrival.”
Celestia nodded. “There’s also another fact that Exuviae’s missing.”
Twilight cocked her head. “What fact?”
“The other human,” Luna clarified as she realised it too. “There could be another one in Manehattan.”
Twilight felt her brows draw down. “Of course…”
“That’s another reason that we need to head back to Ponyville, Twilight,” Celestia said.
“My friends…” Twilight realised.
Celestia nodded firmly. “We need to find all the humans, because if we don’t there’s no telling what could happen if humans fell into the wrong hooves.”
——————————
“A human you say?”
“That’s right, sir.”
“I never thought I’d see the day it would happen.”
“Quite right, sir.”
“Well, Mister Hard Line, I believe you know what it is you must do.”
The pony bowed his head. “Of course, sir.”
“Consider most of my resources that you think are necessary at your disposal, I want this human immediately.”
“At once, sir.” The pony smiled grimly as he bowed once more. “Thank you sir, it is much appreciated.”
He waved his servant away dismissively. “Get it done, Hard Line.”
“As you wish.”
As Hard Line’s words drifted to the griffin, he examined his claws and flexed them powerfully. He could already see the money the human would bring in. He tapped his beak and indulged in a vicious smile.
“Yes…” he said. “As I wish.”
—————————
“What’s going on?” Secant asked.
Mortimus scanned the train and shrugged uncomfortably. “I don’t know, we’ve stopped but I don’t know the reason why.”
“What’s that in the distance?” Secant asked, pointing out the window.
Mortimus clambered over the human and gazed out the window, peering into the distance.
“I can’t see anything,” he muttered. “What do you mean?”
“There.” Secant pointed at the same point with her finger as if it actually helped.
Mortimus sighed and looked out the window again. A smudge appeared to move on the horizon, then separated into distinct entities.
“Griffons?” Mortimus said incredulously. “What’re they doing here?”
“What’s a griffon?” Secant asked.
“It’s like a half lion, half bird…” Mortimus trailed off as the carriage jerked forward a few moments, interrupting his half-formed explanation. Suddenly, there was another jerk and he fell forwards towards Secant as he heard the high-pitched screeching of a train trying desperately to stop. He heard an ominous thump… then all was quiet.
“What happened?” Secant whispered to her lap, which was where Mortimus found himself.
“I don’t know,” he hissed back. “Something’s wrong.”
He was about to say more when the door to the carriage burst open and a rather flustered conductor stumbled in, shutting the door behind him with a firm bang. The sound reverberated around the room, bringing everypony’s attention to him. Well, there weren’t many in the carriage. Apart from Mortimus and Secant, there was only a tan-brown stallion and cream-coloured mare. The conductor lurched into the carriage, swaying unsteadily. The unicorn mare, swathed in a garish dress and equally flamboyant hat, spoke up in a querulous tone.
“W-What is going on?”
The conductor straightened his tie and cleared his throat nervously. “N-Nothing to worry about!”
There was a deep thump on the door, followed by metallic screeching from the other side.
As one, everypony returned their attention to him.
He grinned, a far-removed caricature of his welcoming smile when they boarded the train. “Some minor technical issues, that’s all!”
Secant and Mortimus shared a glance.
“What’s really going on?!” the stallion from the back demanded. “You can’t possibly expect us to believe that there isn’t a problem!”
“H-H…” the conductor mumbled.
“H…? Come on, out with it!”
“Hijackers!”
The mare gasped. “Goodness, ruffians! Whatever shall we do?”
The stallion eyed the door. “I’ve got too much money to be part of this nonsense!” He drew out a sack of bits and threw it at the conductor’s hooves. “Deal with the problem!”
The conductor shook his head. “Dear Celestia, no!” he spluttered. “There’s no way I’m going out there! If you saw how big that stallion was, you’d think twice before even thinking about it!”
The wealthy individual shrugged as if it were no concern to him. Actually, Mortimus was sure it was of no concern to him. “I don’t care how you do it, just deal with it. I’m going to be late for a meeting.” He eyed Mortimus. “You look poor enough—” His eyes shifted to Secant “—and a strange creature follows you. If you set your beast on them, they will probably scamper away with their tails between their legs! What do you say? There’s money in it for you too!”
Mortimus eyed Secant, and hastily moved in front of her. “Certainly not! Secant is not my pet, she’s a…” he trailed off, wondering what Secant meant to him. In the little time he’d been with her she hadn’t been much more than an inconvenience and annoying. Even so, he wasn’t about to just throw Secant in the firing line, especially not for money. How low could a pony go?
“She’s a friend!” he declared.
The stallion didn’t seem impressed. He rolled his eyes. “I have the solution to that.” He withdrew another bag of bits and tossed it at his hooves. Mortimus wasn’t poor, but he wasn’t rich either. He’d never seen so many bits all at once. It was easily a house’s worth. Before he could decline, Secant leaned in.
“What is ‘money’?” she whispered.
“Not worth your life,” he hissed back.
“Is it important? Is it something we need?”
Mortimus eyed the bags. “No… money can be useful, but it’s not worth what he’s asking.”
“He just wants me to deal with the ponies outside, right?” Secant smiled. “I can try talking to them.”
“Are you daft? Forget about it,” Mortimus said hastily. “It’s too dangerous.”
“Money can help us find the other human, right?”
Mortimus couldn’t deny it, but he wished that Secant could see what he was trying to say.
“It’s not that simple.”
“Yes it is,” she said, then louder to the stallion, “we accept!”
The stallion seemed surprised that she could speak, but then nodded. “Excellent,” he replied imperiously. He waved a hoof in dismissal. “Carry on.”
Secant grinned and gathered up the bits, handing them over to a sputtering Mortimus.
“What are you doing?!” he cried. “How are you going up against a bunch of criminals? Are you trying to get us killed?”
Secant tilted her head. “I told you,” she replied easily. “I’m going to talk to them.”
———————————
Bricker used to be a bricklayer. He supposed with a name like that it would be unavoidable starting off as a bricklayer. Bricker used to work constructions at Hard House’s Housings before he turned to a life of crime. There hadn’t been any particular need to, actually. He just did what other ponies told him to. It was a speciality of his. Why he wasn’t still a bricklayer he supposed had something to do with his enormous strength.
He didn’t know his supervisor had local ties to the pony underground. He didn’t know that his strength, enough to lift several hundreds of pounds of brick and mortar, would be a desirable trait in the service of crime. It wasn’t as hard as construction, but it paid better and he didn’t have to do much. Most of the time he was just asked to give a demonstration of his skills. He never hurt anypony, he never had to. He would simply break through a couple walls of concrete, that’s all. The frightened ponies then paid up what was owed to them. Plus interest. It was still honest work. Sort of.
He could imagine his mother having a disapproving frown. She couldn’t have known, of course, that his grey-area side-venture paid for her failing health. He’d told her he was working for ‘very kind ponies’. He could imagine her mortified. But he’d rather her mortified than dead.
Still, this job was different, and it didn’t sit well with Bricker. This time they were outside the grey area of the law and right into the dark, black part of the underground.
“Get on with it,” one of his ‘colleagues’ growled, giving him a light shove. Or they intended to. He was a lumbering mass of muscle and the prod didn’t so much as move him an inch. Calm, clear eyes swung around to meet the owner of the hoof. Just because he was muscular didn’t mean his brain was made of muscle. He did these jobs because he was suited to them, not because he couldn’t think for himself.
Registering his menacing look, the crook took a step back, regretting his actions immediately. “I-I mean, p-please,” he stammered, to the laughter of his associates.
That was the thing about this organisation, they were just ‘friends’, ‘relations’, ‘colleagues’, ‘associates’… the list went on. Even their names were somewhat superfluous pseudonyms. Though he was the rare exception, as his real name was as tough as his alternate one. Plus, nopony could force him to use another, even if they wanted to.
Bricker quite liked the term ‘partner’, but he could see the value of ‘team’. Out of all the teams in the organisation, his was the worst. They were often given the dregs of the dreg-jobs. Things that didn’t require much thinking, and usually didn’t have much in the way of morally questionable acts. He also got along with most of the ponies in the group, unlike some in the organisation. Well, most of the time.
“You don’t move Bricker, Bricker moves you!” A roguish smile danced upon the lip of the mare that said it. She grinned wickedly. “But yeah, Bricker, any day now.” That was Raven, their ‘leader’, in a sense. Raven was the reluctant shepherd of the group. She was often the one that got things moving. Mainly because Bricker didn’t like chatting idly, and the others often didn’t know what to do.
Bricker lumbered up to the door of the carriage and tapped it a few times to gauge the composition. It might have felt like a light tap to him, but to others it was as if a battering ram had been taken to the wood. Most of the ponies in his group were surprised that that door didn’t break down then and there. A couple of them backed away, regarding him with even more caution, if that were possible.
Bricker paused as he heard muffled sounds from beyond. The ponies behind the door were probably scared stiff. This was his least favourite part of the job. At least they wouldn’t be getting hurt. Just escort somepony away and the rest were free to go. Perfectly legal. Well not completely legal, but soothing to his conscience.
With a firmer tap, he judged the door thin enough to pummel through. He stepped back a bit and swivelled, preparing to buck the door down. He tensed to make the shot…
“Woah!”
“Wha-what?!”
His hoof, already on its trajectory, didn’t stop, continuing along its path and narrowly missing the creature’s head. Bricker stumbled back, horrified that he had almost decapitated somepony. Though now that he recovered he saw that it wasn’t a pony at all. It was a strange being that stood on two legs and was smiling nervously at him.
The creature recovered first. “Uhh, hello!”
Bricker didn’t know what to do. This was usually the part when ponies started shrieking in terror. He supposed this creature wasn’t a pony, but still…
“Hello,” was all he could say.
“What’s that?” That was Swiper, the resident pickpocket, though he’d have difficulties pickpocketing out of a paper bag. Bricker thought a pick-pocket like him should stay out of the criminal business. Maybe pick some oranges instead of pockets. Oranges didn’t call the police.
“A human,” Raven answered, blinking at it.
“What’s it doing?”
“Uhh, I think it’s waving at us, boss.”
“Hi there!” the human repeated.
“Isn’t that the thing we’re supposed to get?”
“Hold on, Swiper.” Bricker eyed the relatively tall, but gangly looking creature. “You’re a human, right?”
The human shook her head. “I’m not human.”
Bricker turned to Swiper. “She says she’s not human.”
Swiper turned to the boss. “Yeah, Bricker said…”
The mare sighed and rubbed her suddenly aching head. “I know what she said,” she growled. “Look, guys, you can’t believe what everypony tells you, alright?”
Swiper cocked his head. “Yeah but you told us to always listen to you, so wouldn’t that mean—”
“Oh by the Stars— look, I don’t have time to explain just how much money we’ve been offered to get this human. Do you see any other creature walking around on two legs?”
Swiper looked unsure giving the surrounding area a casual sweep. “Uhh…”
“Stop… just…” she sighed again. “Bricker can you just fetch the human?”
“Now hold on,” the human said, “can’t we just work this out? First off, I’m not human. I mean I have the form of a human, but I’m not a human. You… you don’t want your superiors mad at you, right? I know how that feels.”
Bricker retracted his hooves but shrugged, confident that even if the human tried bolting she wouldn’t be able to escape anyway. “Yeah, sometimes they can be real mean.”
“I know right? You know how he does that look.”
“The look,” Swiper breathed. “Yeah…”
They both turned to the mare that stood off to the side.
“What do you think, boss?” The title had stuck with Raven ever since she pointed out to Swiper that he had to pickpocket from behind the target instead of the front.
Raven shifted uneasily, but pressed on. “I-It doesn’t matter what I think, we have a job to do. Swiper, you need some coin for your sisters, Bricker, you need some for your mother. We’re all here to do a job, and then we’ll get paid. Can you please grab the human now, Bricker?”
As Bricker reached over, the human spoke again. “On the off chance, how much are they paying you?”
“A lot,” the mare replied shortly. “Why?”
The human glanced back and shrugged. “Oh you know, I was just given a whole lot of money and I was wondering if it was a lot.”
Wile spoke up. “Just how much?” he asked suspiciously.
The human shrugged. “Ah… I don’t know, I haven’t counted it, I’ll have to ask Mortimus.”
“Mortimus?” The mare shook her head. “Anyway, it’s not important how much we earn, right guys? We just do the job.”
The others mumbled back varying degrees of agreement.
“A hundred bits,” Bricker said. “I think I get hundred bits.”
The human blinked. “Is that a lot?”
Wile gaped at them. “Are you kidding, I only get eighty bits!”
Bricker shared a glanced with Swiper. Then they looked at the mare standing off to the side.
“I-It’s a little on the small side for crimes…” She shook her head. “B-But it’s steady pay!”
“Yeah, steady pay,” Wile muttered. “The Big Boss says so, but he said we’d get a bonus before the job’s over so…”
The human looked surprised. She reached behind and held out a hoof-full of bits cupped in her hands. “Hey, if I give you this much, can you let me go?” The bits jingled a little.
Bricker glanced at the bits and shrugged helplessly. “I don’t think that’s…”
Swiper shouldered his way to the front. “Wait. Are those Classical bits?!”
“What’s that?” Wile asked.
Swiper looked at Wile as if he were the one acting daft. “Are you kidding? Classical bits are minted bits before Equestria’s coin system became centralised! They’re worth a fortune!”
“A fortune?” Bricker asked, suddenly interested.
“How did you know that?” Wile asked suspiciously.
“Enough!” Raven interjected. “We don’t do another job on the job!”
“What’s it to you, Raven?” Wile shot back. “How much do you get paid?”
“I-I don’t have to share it around!”
“It’s lower, isn’t it?” Swiper said.
Raven’s mantled cheeks did all the talking for her. She spoke louder as if to smother her embarrassment with her own voice. “I-In any case, we need to take this human back with us—”
“Hey, I have an idea.”
The party of four swivelled around, turning their attention to the human.
“What if I just hired all of you? You could quit your old job.”
“What, just like that?” Bricker said incredulously.
The human nodded emphatically. “Yep!” she said proudly. “I did it in my last job. I found something much more important.”
“And what was that?” Swiper asked.
“A human!” the human said.
“Aren’t you—”
“No, no, no,” the human said. “I’m not a human. You’ve got it all wrong. Wait a sec, I have to talk to Mortimus.” She ducked into the carriage while the members of the group glanced at each other.
“Hey,” Wile said, “shouldn’t we stop her or something?”
“I say we take her deal,” Swiper said.
Bricker shrugged. “She’s got the money.”
“Yeah,” Wile said. He paused, then added reluctantly, “I don’t like doing these jobs anyway.”
Raven nodded slowly. “Yeah,” she said. “I never really wanted to do this… but nopony usually gets hurt and the money is kinda okay…”
“I’m back,” the human announced. “Mortimus says we can afford to pay you all, isn’t that great?”
Bricker blushed. “That’s very kind of you, miss…?”
“Secant. Call me Secant.”
“Miss Secant.”
“Hold on!” Raven said. “We can’t just abandon the job! What’ll the Big Boss say?”
Swiper and Wile shrugged. “Not a lot of nice things,” Swiper said simply. “If you don’t want to come that’s fine. I’m going with this nice human.”
The human threw up her hands. “I’m not… oh fine, whatever you little ponies say.”
Bricker gave Raven a sympathetic glance. “Come on, Raven, what’s stopping you?”
Raven’s mouth opened and shut like a fish out of water. She looked away as she replied. “I can’t tell you that.” She ran her hoof through her mane in frustration. “Just… can you follow the plan? We’ve known each other for years and now you’re just all going to give up and go, all for a little money?”
“A lot of money,” Swiper corrected. “Do you want to keep working for a hundred bits a job?”
“Ninety,” Wile muttered, but mostly everypony ignored him.
Raven stamped a hoof. “Of course not, I couldn’t care less about—” She stopped her herself.
Bricker knew that look. It was the same sort of look he had when he was on his first job. It’s the look of a pony with their back against the wall and how a little extra help would be offered for a ‘small’ job.
“Do you have somepony that needs you?” Bricker said quietly.
Raven didn’t reply, but her eyes said everything.
“Okay,” he said gently. “You don’t have to come with us, just report back to the boss that we’ve escaped, or something.”
Raven stared at the ground. “They couldn’t care less about any of you, but I know the Big Boss. I know when he really wants something, or if he’s just taking an opportunity. He wants the human, and he wants her bad. He’ll go through any number of you to get to her.”
“Oh,” Swiper said, as if the thought had suddenly occurred to him. “That might be a problem.”
——————
“It’s a huge problem!” Raven shouted. “It’s a complex, messy, serious problem that’s a part of you, you, you and even me!”
Silence reigned at the head of the train. Raven’s chest heaved with ire as she stared them all down.
“Uhm… what’s your problem?” Secant piped up from the carriage door. The voice was gentle and calming, and Raven was partially angry that it was working so well.
Raven bit her lip and looked away again. “It doesn’t concern you.”
Secant nodded. “Okay, I was just asking in case I could help you.”
“What could you do?” Raven shot back bitterly. “How would you make a difference?”
Secant looked genuinely puzzled by the question. “That’s why I asked.”
“Huh? What?”
Secant rolled her shoulders. “I mean, how could I know if I can help you if you don’t tell me how I could help you? Or, how could I know if I can help you if I don’t know what your problem is. That’s what I’m saying.”
“Are you for real?” Raven spluttered.
Secant touched herself on the arms. “I think so. Wait, do you think I’m not real? That’s not supposed to happen!”
Raven watched in shock as the human started patting herself down. “Stop it!” she snapped. “What are you doing?”
“Checking if I’m real.”
Raven was just about to lose it when she was interrupted from making a caustic reply.
“Secant. You’re real.”
Raven registered the masculine voice before she saw the stallion behind it. She blinked as the pony stepped forward. He looked deathly pale, as if the Reaper had stopped halfway and changed his mind. His gaunt face reminded her of a walking corpse.
“Ah!” Swiper screamed. “A zompony!”
The pony rolled his eyes. “I’m not a zompony. I’m Mortimus.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Wile narrowed his eyes. “He’s a vampony.”
Raven gave them both a quelling look before she turned back. “What a weird name; it suits you.”
“Thanks… Raven, was it? I take it you want the human?”
Raven nodded wearily. She had tried to get everypony on her team back, but there was no hope for that now. It was all so hard… it wasn’t fair. This pony seemed nice. She wanted to say something, but she feared to test her voice just then.
“Uhh, so what’s the problem? Secant says she wants to help you,” he continued in the silence.
That again? Raven glared at the pony, even as he stood his ground and stared back. “You want to know so badly? All of you?” She directed the last part to the gathered members of her traitorous team.
Concession was unanimous.
“Yes,” Bricker said.
“Yeah,” Swiper added.
“Yep,” Wile put in, while scratching his nose.
Secant grinned, but otherwise didn’t say anything.
“Fine! You want to know so badly?” Raven ground out. “It’s my sister. She’s being held. Happy?”
Wile frowned. “I thought you said your sister lived with you.”
“She does,” Raven said impatiently. “Don’t I look a little young to you?”
The sudden question caught him off-guard. “Uhh, kind of? I guess?”
Raven sighed. “I’m using a cosmetic spell to age me. It’s hard to use, but none of you can tell I’m actually fourteen years old, right?”
Shocked silence greeted her. She barked a harsh laugh.
“Yeah, I thought so. I take a potion before every job, so there, you know.”
“Holy moly, were we being bossed around by a fourteen year old?” Swiper sunk to his hindquarters. “What the he—”
A loud crash interrupted Swiper, making everypony jolt. Bricker had smashed a dent in the side of the train. “They stole a foal?” he said through gritted teeth.
“No, no!” Raven said quickly. “They just… persuaded me to work for them, or they’d tell the Equestrian Social Services. My sister does live with me, she’s safe… unless you guys don’t help me! Don’t you see?”
“Equestrian Social Services?” Swiper asked, confusion written all over his brow. “Is that a bad thing?”
Raven threw him a glare that was so intense, he had to take a step back. “You wouldn’t understand. We’ve been there before. We don’t want to go back.” She turned back to Bricker. “Come on, you know my story now. Can we please get back to the job?”
Bricker looked reluctant. After an interminable moment, Bricker shrugged and reached for Secant once again.
Secant clapped her hands together. “Wait! Why don’t we ask the Princesses? Mortimus told me they can help with your problems.” Again, Bricker stopped, and looked at Raven.
“What.” Raven couldn’t get around how unfathomably stupid this creature was. “That’s the exact opposite of what we want!”
Secant shrugged. “Well… what if we told Equestrian Social Services?”
Raven didn’t have an answer to that. She couldn’t get over her disbelief.
Mortimus rolled his eyes. “What Secant means to say is that either way, you’re trapped. You should follow us, at least there’s some chance we could help.”
“Are you crazy? What if I just get the human, she can’t tell tales where she’s going.”
“Where am I going?” Secant asked.
“I-I, just shut up. Let me do my job!”
Mortimus cleared his throat. “We can help,” he pressed meaningfully. “Just let us try.”
Raven glanced back and forth between the human and the other members of the group. “Why would you want to help?”
Mortimus cocked his head. “Hmm, maybe because I know what it’s like to be alone, with nopony to help you.”
Raven was about to disagree, but there it was, the unmistakable glint of pain hidden in his eyes. He broke contact first and turned his gaze downwards.
Bricker gestured at Raven. “You live in Canterlot anyway, right? We can pick up your sister and then we’ll see where this takes us.”
Despite being shaken by Mortimus’ sincerity, Raven tried one last argument. “How do I know I can trust you? How can we get my sister away safely?”
Mortimus eyed her keenly. “Tell me,” he said with a lopsided smile, “do you know what a human is?”
———————
With all the ceremony of a puppy tumbling out of a slide, Written landed in one of the Isles of Reality. Here, strange things happened. Reality wasn’t as firm underneath, what with being so close to the formless Void. That was why her ‘landing’—if one could call it that—had been so uncontrolled. Imposing your will on the softer sides of Reality was rather like herding a pounce of cats. An altogether unpleasant experience.
Though Author had defined the boundaries of Reality, only those close to the Roots, to the Registry, and the Atrium were firmly stable. Laws of nature were flexible in the outer Realities and despite the Auditor’s best efforts, they sometimes leaked into the core Realities, often in the form of boundless imagination, or transient phenomena.
Still, all was not lost, the Auditor held her staff while her cloak fluttered in the shifting eddies of metaphysical winds. Though Reality was softer, it wasn’t non-existent. Little ‘islands’ of reality cropped up here and there. Often unauthorised Reality-warpers and other entities would harbour themselves in these worlds. The Dweller had been careless, she should have taken the whole Record with her. Now that she had a part of it, a link had been established and the Root traced a path leading to the very island she lived in.
When she got her hands on the Dweller, she’d fix the anomaly in the Record and she could finally get back to hunting down the intruder. Written raised her staff reluctantly. Though she had the fortitude to push on, the idea of tumbling through and landing in another place in an uncontrolled tumble was not the most dignifying way to present oneself.
Written sighed, lifting her staff more firmly. She spoke the words of Creation and at once shifted to another reality.
———————
Princess Cadance was not having a good day. One would think that leading a kingdom was easy, but it wasn’t. Every time you thought you got the hang of it, something always throws it out of whack. For instance, the fact that her husband had gone off gallivanting with his old friends from the Equestrian military while she was stuck with the paperwork.
But that wasn’t the problem. Far from it.
Oh she’d smiled of course. Tea and biscuits. Lovely conversation. Polite manners, gentle hoof bumps and hugs. It was what they talked about as soon as they set their jock-hooves outside.
Nice one, Shining. They had said. You really bagged a cutie.
Normally, she wouldn’t care. No, she’d be flattered at the compliment, even, but it was Shining’s response that got to her.
You’re not doing too bad yourself, eh Rider?
Now what was that supposed to mean?! Shining had been grinning like an idiot when he said that, and even after the not-so-subtle nudges he still had the gall to ask what was wrong when she marched up to him and demanded an explanation. The thing that frustrated her the most was the fact that she knew he didn’t mean anything by it. That Shining was a natural airhead when it came to paying compliments to matters of the heart.
His genuine concern only made her more angry. Not at him, mind you, but at herself. Shiny didn’t mean it, he hadn’t known it was a mistake, he was just an innocent, clueless, sweet, loving, idiot! And she had acted like a jealous teenager in front of the guests!
Still. He could have had the presence of mind not to say it inside the castle. The walls had ears, and more importantly, the corridor echoed. So it was more chance than design that she happened to overhear the conversation. His friends were good, they’d dragged him away before she could further embarrass herself by chewing him out.
It was weird. She wasn’t usually this all over the place, she was… better than that. No, it was that Griffon diplomat. That’s what it was. The one who had waltzed in here like a Princess and slyly suggested that Shining—her Shining—might be amenable to a shared concession.
The nerve of that bird-brain!
Cadance took solace in the fact that at least the paperwork was almost done. Categorised, filed, sorted and signed. She’d worked through them breezily which gave her the time to think about her admitted overreaction. That griffon diplomat was playing her like a fiddle, and she’d danced right along to the tune! She’d make it up to her poor Shiny. When he got back, and they were alone, maybe they could have some time—
“W-What the heck happened here?!”
Beyond the door set ajar, was her office in a war zone. Or what appeared to be the aftermath of one. Her hard-earned paperwork that had been stacked neatly on her desk, now lay scattered on the floor. Her quills, her scrolls, her books that had lain on tables or shelves had joined the papers.
But that wasn’t what Cadance was looking at.
Among the detritus of her documentation, stirred a creature. It groaned, and unsteadily got to its two feet…
The creature cleared its throat as it straightened.
“Hello,” she said. “I’m Auditor Written, please direct me to your nearest human.”
———————
It wasn’t long before Exuviae had brought up his little faux-pas.
“What in the world would possess you to say that?!” she demanded, her eyes glowing menacingly.
David sighed. For some reason, Exuviae’s frightening demeanour wasn’t as petrifying as before. Was it because he knew his own value to her? It still gave him the shivers, but just not as much. Maybe he was finally getting used to the weird stuff in the world.
“The truth,” he said. “That’s what we need.”
“What?” Exuviae huffed. “What do you mean?”
David paced forwards and ran his fingers along the walls. Over there the corridor was blank, with no carvings on the walls. He traced an imaginary stick figure as he talked. “You’ve been hiding for so long, nobody here knows the real you. There’s probably wild stories, myths and legends about you and your species. It doesn’t help when you can literally take the form of your prey, right?”
Exuviae nodded reluctantly. “Why do you think that would work?”
“They need to know. Trust me.” David gave a humourless smile. “I’ve been in the same situation, believe it or not.”
Exuviae seemed to accept his words as the irony sunk in. “I see,” she said with a nod. “A novel concept, but perhaps one we can afford to try now.” She raised an eyebrow. “But try only once. Revealing oneself as a changeling is a one-way trip. Destroying an identity means it cannot be rebuilt.”
David considered her statement, but shook his head. “Yes it can,” he replied wistfully. He thought of the new immigrants arriving at the airport. He remembered their faces, fresh, hopeful and determined. “It takes a lot of hard work and sweat, but it’s possible. You just have to trust the ponies.”
Exuviae narrowed her eyes.
“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” she muttered. “You say we have to trust the ponies… but I don’t.”
David ran his fingers through his hair. “Well, enough to at least discuss things with them. You need them.”
That seemed to strike a nerve. Exuviae reddened as she rounded on him. “I certainly don’t!” she shot back. “We simply need to gain an advantage over them, that’s all. For that we’d only form a temporary arrangement, then we’ll—”
“You can’t do that, how’re you going to foster trust?” he said incredulously. David wondered why the changeling queen was so resistant to the very idea she’d had in the first place. “You’re being ridiculous.”
Exuviae let out an indignant gasp. No doubt this was the first time anyone had the audacity to say something so bluntly to her. David would normally be counted as one of those who would not dare, but he was at his wit’s end.
“How dare you!” she hissed. “You don’t know anything!”
David gritted his teeth. Of course he didn’t know anything, he was a stranger in a foreign land in an unknown universe! Yet they expected him to be able to do something about it, and she had the utter lack of presence to tell him that he was wrong about her own idea?!
“I know enough!” he yelled back. “I know that your obstinate pride is going to kill you—you… you… reckless, hypocritical imbecile!”
In the ringing silence he was suddenly aware that they were surrounded by her ‘shadows’ the ever-present guard composed of changelings ready to spring into action if he were to pose a threat. He glared at them, feeling intimidated, but daring not to show it. If he were to back down now at the show of force, he might as well give up. If he couldn’t stick to his own resolution, then there was no point; he would have stayed with the ponies instead.
It was hard, though, when the very creatures he had thought he was saving were glaring at him with boiling rage. Or at least that was what he thought Exuviae’s reaction would be, but the Queen merely looked… pleased? What the heck was going on?
Exuviae looked very much like a cat that had finally snared the elusive mouse. She licked her lips and nodded approvingly. “You’re definitely committed,” she finally said. “I had to know for sure.”
“W-What?” David spluttered.
Exuviae rolled her eyes. “Oh come now, you don’t think I would throw away years of planning in a moment’s passion, would you?”
David didn’t say anything, he was still trying to process the sudden change in topic.
“You have to recognise that what I have done is merely confirmation that you would do as you say. That you would hold to your promises as binding.” She shied away from his stony look. “We’ve been deceived before, if you can get past the unbelievable irony in that.” Exuviae sighed, but laid a hoof on his shoulder while giving him a more tender smile. “I had to know that you would be willing to tell me I’m wrong. Care enough to know what’s best for me even when I can’t see it for myself.”
“Why would you need that?” David asked, his head shaking as he tried and failed to grasp what the heck Exuviae was on about. “Why would you need someone like that?”
Exuviae pursed her lips impatiently. “Because,” she said with exaggerated patience. “I don’t want something that always agrees with me, I need something that will help us. That starts by being close enough to care about me but far enough to care about us as a collective. That, human arbiter, is what qualifies you to be at the negotiating table.”
David didn’t like it, but he nodded reluctantly. “Alright, I think I see what you mean, but couldn’t you have given me some warning first?”
“Of what?” Exuviae snorted. “That I was going to surprise you by telling you the surprise?”
David sighed. “I guess not.”
Exuviae beckoned him. “Come,” she said. “I have one last thing to show you. It concerns not only changelings, but something a little bit greater than all of us, I fear.”
——————
Carrying Rainbow in tow, Twilight pondered the dilemma of getting ahold of a human without resorting to less savoury methods. It wasn’t fair that villains got to kidnap anypony they wanted. Where was the added advantage of not being able to bend the rules a little bit? The alicorn shook her head. That kind of thinking was wrong. Sure it was tempting to do it, but even desperate, like Exuviae had told them, she still wouldn’t do that. Something about Exuviae’s story didn’t seem right.
Why did changelings like her care about all that now of all times? Why did they want a human to play at being the fulcrum of a diplomatic seesaw? Too many things weren’t adding up. Still, Exuviae did seem genuinely desperate to enlist the human’s empathy. Whatever for, she didn’t know. Rainbow groaned softly, shifting on her back. Well, despite coming back unharmed, Exuviae was going to have to answer for kidnapping Rainbow and getting her all mixed up in this.
The abrupt dismissal of Rainbow’s life as something that was beneath Exuviae’s concern got Twilight’s blood boiling. How dare that insipid Queen pawn off her friends like some kind of afterthought?
At least nopony had been hurt. The changelings with them as they were escorted, told her that whatever it was that they had done to Rainbow, it would wear off as they left the changeling cave system. For that reason mostly, Twilight was trying to get out as fast as she could. It would be nice to have Rainbow around, she was always so dependable, even if she was a little brash at times. Apart from that little comment, the changelings didn’t respond to any of her pointed questions. She’d hoped to get a little out from the changelings themselves, but they weren’t very forthcoming.
They didn’t seem to speak at all, in fact. It reminded her a little of the Royal Guards. It seemed like they were trained to be stoic and not answer any questions unless specifically directed to. It occurred to her that they were much like the changeling equivalent. She didn’t know if that were the case, or if their silence were the norm instead of the exception. Twilight sighed, adding the curiosity to the jumbled mess of many others jostling in her mind. Looking ahead, she was glad for the break from the monotony of the cave walls the entrance was finally in sight.
Emerging from the cave systems, Spitfire and Soarin immediately alighted at their position and saluted the Princesses. Celestia and Luna dipped their head gracefully, and Twilight did so somewhat belatedly.
“Princesses, we’ve received a message from Doctor Stable and Nurse Redheart from Ponyville.”
“Do tell!” Luna commanded, but cleared her throat as Celestia sent her a look. “Uhh… yes, do tell us, please.”
If Spitfire had thoughts about the exchange between the Princesses, she didn’t show it. “Doctor Stable had instructed Nurse Redheart to extract samples from the human while he was at the hospital.”
“W-What?” Twilight squeaked. “Why?”
“Indeed,” Luna remarked. “We are curious.”
“Apparently, Nurse Redheart and Doctor Stable know something of the mythos around the humans,” she continued, shifting her hooves uneasily. “They sounded a little…” Spitfire trailed off as she tried to find the words.
“Crazy?” Soarin muttered.
Spitfire shrugged and nodded reluctantly, not really wishing to badmouth the doctor that had treated her. “Well, yes, they were, for lack of a better word, really, really, into the lab results from the blood samples.”
“How did they get blood samples off the human?”
“They said something about drugging him.”
“W-What? On a completely alien physiology?”
Spitfire shrugged. “The doctor said something about it being xeno-safe. It’s mostly so they could get samples from the human.”
“T-That violates so many ethics codes I don’t even know where to begin.”
Celestia interrupted before Twilight could go straight into a lecture.
“While I agree that Nurse Redheart and Doctor Stable need a revision on what constitute patient rights, what is done is done, we’ll need to see what they have for us.”
“Y-You can’t be serious, Princess, that’s almost legitimi—”
“I know exactly what we’re doing,” Princess Celestia said quietly. “We don’t have the time right now. Exuviae is planning something and a lot more ponies will get hurt. For now, we must consider the greater good and allow them to be dealt with later.”
Luna nodded. “Unfortunately, as Princess, you must sometimes make tough decisions if you want to make sure everypony is safe. Luxury of swift and total justice, or redemption, only comes after your duty is done.” Her eyes went slightly out of focus. “Personal feelings come second.”
Twilight reluctantly followed the two alicorns as they headed off. Carrying Rainbow may have slowed her down, but that wasn’t the only reason she was flying at the back of the formation.
She needed a moment to collect her scrambled thoughts.