//------------------------------// // Chapter Six 【Sunset】 // Story: A Sparkle-ling Perfection // by Cast-Iron Caryatid //------------------------------// My skin crawls as Twilight Sparkle places her hoof on my shoulder.  I hate that I’m so affected by it that I can’t even keep a straight face, but there’s no getting around it. I’m scared. Me.  Sunset Shimmer.  The terror of Castle Canterlot; now reduced to this.  It would almost be better if something had actually happened.  I’d feel better about being scared out of my wits when a tiny purple filly twice my size touches me.  I would feel justified. No I wouldn’t. That’s the problem.  How terrifying the experience is doesn't even enter into it.  It's just the idea of it that has wormed its way into my head… like the very real parasite that had actually burrowed into my brain.  It’s just there.  I have no control, no defense for what it does to me. I never want to feel that way again. “Sunset Shimmer?” Twilight Sparkle prompted. Wait.  “I don’t feel anything.”  Once the words are out of my mouth, I hear them and realize what they mean.  Worry crawls up my spine as I wonder if her skill allows her to be more subtle than when I touched the thing inhabiting my old body—or maybe she has just turned off my ability to feel what she’s doing to me? “I haven’t done anything yet,” she informs me.  “I just wanted to make sure you’re okay with me touching you, first.” Oh. I’m not sure if I should thank her, or hit her for making me worry, so in the end, I do neither.  “I’m really not, so just… get it over with,” I say. The first thing I feel is the tail end of an exasperated sigh, followed by blasé ambivalence as the doorway between her mind and mine creaks open.  To my relief, I can tell instantly that she’s there, brushing up against my thoughts.  It’s almost like having somepony literally walking around in my head.  It’s the sensation of being watched from the inside, hearing hoofsteps from every direction, feeling somepony looking over my shoulder and breathing down my spine, all at once. Then, she reaches around me and takes my hoof in hers.  More accurately, she steps inside my skin, takes a deep breath and… shivers.  A tingling sensation runs from my hooves up to my horn, followed by a tearing sensation as green flames envelop me.  The process is painless, but overwhelmingly… tactile, like being pressed through a layer of stretchy rice paper. And then—just like that—it’s over, and my head is my own again.  Everything is fine, nothing bad happened and it feels good to be warm and fuzzy once more… and I’ll do whatever it takes to stay this way so that I never have to go through that again. ⁂ Twilight Sparkle hasn’t said a word as I make my way out of the lab, choosing instead to watch curiously as each step took me marginally closer to freedom.  Now, looking back, I think her lack of comment is because it’s taking all of her effort not to laugh—which is obviously ridiculous.  I’m certain by now that keeping a straight face is completely effortless for her. Nevertheless, the whole hive mind is probably laughing at me as I stand obstructed by the simplest of obstacles—stairs.  They didn’t look any smaller when I was being dragged down them on my back, but at least that I probably could have managed on my own. You’d think that if I could climb a bathtub up to the sink next to it, stairs would be no problem—but these are just crude, filthy planks of wood with no vertical surface to actually kick off of.  I suppose, if my life depended on it, I’d manage, but… Did I mention that they’re filthy?  And that I have a white coat?  A white coat that I’m pretty sure doesn’t stay magically clean like Princess Celestia’s seems to?  Call me spoiled, but I’m pretty sure most ponies don’t go around rubbing their face in dirt if they can help it. Thankfully, my knight in shining armor appears at the top of the stairs. Okay, I admit, the name is amusing at times.  That doesn’t mean I have to like him. Still, I’m allowed to be relieved when the green glow of his magic begins to engulf me… at least at first.  Magic means he doesn’t have to come down and actually make contact with me, right?  But no—Twilight had said I was going to fill the dragon egg with changeling magic so that my body would recognize it as a hive mind, and sure enough, I can feel the whisper of Shining Armor’s mind around me as he lifts me up the stairs.  I wonder if it’s impossible to insulate yourself from somepony—someling—that you’re using magic on, or if he just doesn’t care. I’m embarrassed to say that it’s not as bad this time.  It’s not that I’m getting used to it, but at least Shining Armor stays wholly outside of my mind for the duration.  That, and… it’s magic.  Having my mind invaded by magic is just naturally less creepy than having ponies touching me. It makes sense to me. As I approach the top of the steps, I can see Shining Armor struggling to lift me.  The irony that my old body, with my old pony magic in it, would not only be perfectly capable of the task, but safer to my mind, is not lost on me, yet… I don’t want to see that thing again.  I’m honestly not sure how much of my aversion to that thing is the trauma of its unfiltered connection to the hive mind, how much is the disturbing image of seeing something else walking around in my body and how much is just lingering self-loathing for all the things I screwed up. I’ll manage with the mild invasion of my mind by an irritable stallion, thanks. Finally, I feel polished, clean wooden floorboards rise up to meet my tiny white hooves, and the green glow surrounding me disappears.  Shining Armor is visibly winded, which… actually makes me feel kinda bad.  Twilight had said that she was the most magically-powerful changeling, but she was still a filly and I was barely a foal.  Seeing a grown stallion with magic this feeble really hit home how important Twilight’s objective is for us. Wait, us?  Where did that come from?  It was important to them. Ugh.  This is what I get for rejecting my pony self, isn’t it?  I’m not a pony any more, and I’m not a dragon yet.  I don’t know how to think of myself, other than as this tiny white… thing. “Are you alright?” asks a voice that sounds disturbingly like Shining Armor.  What’s more, it comes from Shining Armor’s mouth. For a moment, I just stare at him like he’s grown a second head, and it’s then that I realize just how much larger he is than me.  I remember him being stocky for a unicorn, but now he looks huge, and I realize that I’d only really spent any time with Twilight since becoming a nymph, and she’s barely ten.  Maybe she had a point about letting me out on my own; it would be kind of awkward if somepony called the guard on a ‘lost’ foal. “Seriously,” he says.  “If I’ve destroyed your fragile mind with my awesome display of magic, blink twice.  There’s a dumpster in the bad part of town that the just gets dumped off the side of the mountain every other week, and you’re small enough to fit in this one lunchbox I never liked.” I blink for lack of response before my mind processes what he actually said, and I scowl.  “Sorry, I thought for a second that you’d been replaced by a normal pony and it set off a minor existential crisis.” “Yeah, well, get your fluffy butt in gear,” he says, motioning into the foyer with his head.  “I’m apparently taking you to the park for the afternoon, and I need to stop at a ‘book store’ on the way.” I let out a snort of laughter.  “Not a fan of books?  Somehow I’m not surprised.” “Books are fine,” he says, rolling his eyes.  “But we had a visitor while you were in the chrysalis, and ‘Twily’ got a little carried away in explaining how her ‘goofy older brother’ loves these… tabletop games.  How she even knows so much about them, I’ve no idea.” I look back over my shoulder to give him a questioning look as I step past him.  “And you’re going to go to the trouble of learning them just for that?”  I’m greeted by a strangely familiar feeling as I enter the foyer.  “Who could possibly be so important that—”  I stop talking when it hits me.  I can feel her magic in my chitin, even through the disguise.  “Celestia was here.” “Yeah,” he grunts, coming out behind me and closing the second door.  “Still no idea why.  She seemed interested in me, but it makes no sense; I’m entirely unspectacular.” “That—”  Hrm.  “I don’t know how to feel about that.  You don’t think she knows about me, do you?” He shakes his head and glances over at the front door with a worried look.  “It’s unlikely.  Our queen had just come in a few minutes before; even if your princess is as sensitive to magic as we are, there should have been no trace of yours.  Of course, that’s its own concern, but you don’t have to worry about that.” “I can worry,” I insist.  “You said you’re unremarkable, but we’re going to change that; it’s not good if she gets to know both of you right before you grow some potential.” “That shouldn’t be a problem.” “Why not?” “Twily was quite… creative in her description of me.” ⁂ It feels good to get out of the house, even if it has to be with Shining Armor watching over me—or more specifically, me watching over him, considering my vantage point in the saddle, and all. Right.  The saddle.  It’s the slightly embarrassing lesser evil of a compromise between my need for physical separation from Shining Armor and my begrudging admission that I actually am of no age to be on my own.  It’s humiliating… but in a bearable way, since nopony knows who I am.  To them, I’m just another foal out with her older sibling—or, technically, her nephew, according to my cover story, but whatever. Regardless, it’s a relief to feel the mountain wind in my mane, and let the babble of the busy streets wash over me.  The sun is less pleasant on my albino eyes, but it’s not as bad as the last time I was out.  Back when I was still an infant, even closing my eyes wasn’t enough to block it out; now I could even open my eyes so long as we were in the shade. Small victories.  I'm just glad to feel remotely normal instead of tucked away in a house full of nightmares hiding from the world.  Tartarus, I don’t know when the last time was that I went for a walk just to enjoy it.  Bouncing along in a saddle as an adult goes about their errands?  That wasn’t part of my foalhood. I don’t think about my foalhood much, but suffice it to say, it was meager and I rose above it.  Leaving it behind is one of the best things that ever happened to me, not the least because it didn’t just happen.  I made it happen.  I suppose that’s why Twilight Sparkle thinks I have in me the drive to make a good dragon, but she’s mistaken.  She thinks I have this unending drive for power that can never be satisfied… but it’s not me that was never satisfied. It was Princess Celestia. Whatever I did, it was just never good enough for Princess Celestia.  As warm and motherly as she likes to act, I could never imagine her doing this—walking down the street with a saddled foal.  Sure, I was past the age when she took me in, but there were a thousand other little things that never filled the hole I needed filled.  As her student, I always felt that her love was conditional on my continued success. As it turned out, I was right. What a depressing thought. At least Twilight—manipulative bug that she is—isn’t going into it with any of the baggage I did.  She just wants to learn… and she’ll keep changing herself until she succeeds.  Honestly, the two of them are made for each other. As for me… I don’t know.  I just don’t know.  I want to see Twilight succeed.  I want to see her build a perfect creature from the ground up.  I want to explore the fundamental force of creation that is dragon magic.  I want to live long enough to see the shape of time itself… But I never wanted to do any of those things alone.  This, here and now—this simple act of domestic life—it’s seductive in a way I never would have believed in my past life; it’s almost intoxicating.  There’s a warmth in my heart that feels just as insatiable as any desire for power I may have had. Actually, it’s not… quite in the heart, now that I think about it.  Sort of behind it and to the side. I belch, and taste the love on my tongue. Oh.  False alarm, I guess. ⁂ The warm influx of love from passersby on the street halts abruptly when Shining Armor enters the book store.  It’s enough to startle me into attentiveness, and I catch the eye of a clerk, who responds with a sour look. Literally. I can actually taste her displeasure like sour lemon, and it makes me cringe.  “What the hay, lady?” I mumble under my breath and curl up tighter in the saddle as if it’ll protect me. Shining Armor takes notice of my discomfort and glances back to see where it’s coming from.  “Ah,” he says, going back to searching the aisles.  “That’s envy; don’t mind it.  It’s a kind of love.  You’ll know if you run into actual hate.” “Why?” I ask, concerned.  “What’s hate taste like?” Shining Armor glances left and makes his way down an aisle full of fantasy books.  “Poison,” he says quietly with a hint of a snarl.  “It doesn’t sustain you and there’s a separate gland for it so it doesn’t contaminate your love supply.  Hate is hard to digest and there are a number of ways to change what you produce from it—venom, hallucinogens, soporifics.  The least offensive is a sticky resin that hardens quickly and can be used to ensnare.  It’s actually a very effective material, but you don’t build a hive out of hate.” “Right,” I say, wondering just how deep this rabbit hole goes.  Being a changeling is complicated.  “I’ll just add ‘bootleg narcotics factory’ to my list of abilities.” “Naw, little cotton ball,” says a voice from behind us.  “The bile-letter specialization isn’t worth it.  The more hate you have, the more often you roll for odial stones.” I’m almost dislodged from my perch as Shining Armor spins around to face the stallion. “Woah!  Woah!  Chill, dude!” says the stallion, who looks like you took a tan-colored unicorn and rolled him around in the grass until his coat was stained green and his bones turned to mush—considering the way he sways with every movement.  His emotions have a similarly bland feel; so mellow as to be unnoticeable.  They’re there, though, which I suddenly realize must mean he’s not a changeling. Uncertain, I say nothing, looking to Shining Armor for guidance. He gives me much the same look.  “Well,” Shining Armor says, glancing back at the stallion with a shrug.  “He’s not wrong.  Unlike magic, which requires a certain density to crystalize, hate can do so spontaneously, and it’s not pleasant.” With each word Shining Armor says, the odd stallion’s tasteless emotions slowly turn to what I can only guess is the tangy taste of unbridled glee—at least, that’s what I gather from the giant smile on his face. “Oh man—I knew it!” he says, bursting with excitement as he digs around in his saddlebags for something and pulls it out.  “This is great!  You have no idea how hard it is to find somepony else that’s into Changeling: The Harvest!” Now floating in front of him is a book; a thick, well-worn hardcover with the aforementioned title emblazoned across the front in iridescent ink.  I stare at it.  One eye twitching. There’s a book. I grab Shining Armor by the muzzle and screech, “There’s a book?!”  It takes me a moment to realize what I’ve done, and I quickly pull my hooves back with a squeak.  “Why didn’t you tell me there’s a book?” I cry, gesturing in question at the stallion and his book on changelings that is exactly what I asked for. The stallion chuckles.  “Haha—oops.  Sorry if I spoiled the surprise.  That’s what you guys are here for, I guess?  She must be a big fan if she’s this excited about the new edition.  I was too, though; those old staple-bound ones were garbage.” “Um…” Shining Armor says.  “Actually, I’m supposed to buy Oubliett—” I smack him in the back of the head, hivemind connection be damned. “Yes!  That is what we are here for!  Show it to us immediately!” ⁂ By the time we left the bookstore, we had acquired Shining Armor’s required reading, every single Changeling: The Harvest sourcebook, novel and coloring book, one Dragon: The Hunger sourcebook from the same company just in case it was in any way as accurate as the others, and another single copy of Magic: The Harmony as a control. Thankfully, maintaining a ruse with Princess Celestia herself was a high enough priority with the hive that money was not a problem, even with the extortionate prices.  I’ve paid less for books on real magic. We also left with the addresses of a local game shop, as well as that of the stallion that had just been inflicted upon us, who, come to think of it, never actually gave us his name. It took some doing, but eventually we were free to continue on with our day, which we did.  I wanted to hold my wonderful new book on the way to the park, but Shining Armor refused, citing my inability to actually get my hooves around it.  You win this round, adult bug horse. … I think this body is getting to me.  I’m not a foal, no matter how much I look like one.  I—wait, why did we buy the coloring book?  For the sake of appearances, right?  Right.  I don’t plan on actually using it. Except… well, I’m going to have to spend hours at a time being cute for a foalsitter so that I could collect her maternal affection.  I guess I probably am going to actually color in it.  For the sake of appearances. “Shining,” I say, prompting him to turn his head a little in question.  “There’s nothing… influencing me to act like a foal, is there?” He lets out a little chuckle and grins.  “Don’t be silly, little ‘Cotton Ball,’ of course there is.” I sigh in relief.  “That’s what I—wait what?!” His mirth turns into a bark of laughter and he keeps walking, looking very proud of himself.  I’m just glad I can’t actually feel it.  “It’s called positive reinforcement.  You’re a foal, and ponies find foals adorable.  They respond favorably to you when you act cute, and that reinforces the behavior.” “Ugh,” I grunt, in annoyance.  “I’m surrounded by amateur psychologists trying to get a rise out of me.  There’s no way that load of horse apples is relevant; I haven’t even interacted with anyone.” He gives me a smirk.  “Maybe, maybe…  That is, unless you were some sort of emotion-sucking bug creature that has an immediate positive physical reaction in response to the good feelings of others.  I mean—in that case, you couldn’t walk down the street without getting different, subtle feedback for your every action.” Well, umm… I instantly bury my face in the saddle. Shining Armor: 2, Sunset Shimmer: 0. ⁂ The park is a little close to my old school for comfort, but apart from that, it’s a welcome sight.  Shining Armor has been… surprisingly decent, but I need some time to myself all the same.  I’m tempted to grab one of my books and find a shady spot to read, but there’s plenty of time for that at the house. Besides, that’s what ‘Shiny’ is doing, and sitting in the park reading together would be… I dunno… bonding or some junk.  Buck that.  I hop off the saddle, stumble on my tiny legs and set off running. It’s surprisingly easy to find some peace and quiet when your body feeds on the emotions of other creatures.  Your body, of course, doesn’t like doing so as it goes against every instinct, but your body can go stuff it.  Sometimes you need to be alone. After burning off some energy—climbing trees is hard with hooves—I settle down in the boughs of an old oak tree and relax. For the next few hours, nothing special happens at all. It’s wonderful. ⁂ It’s getting close to sunset when a pebble strikes me in the ear.  I look down and find Shining Armor waiting for me. “Come on.  Time to go,” he says, and I can see he already has everything packed up in his saddlebags.  “Your foalsitter should be arriving soon, and you need to actually be there to get love from her.  I should put in an appearance too, since I’m not going to be around for a week.” “Swell.”  I aim for Shining Armor’s back and make a jump for it, landing with an “Oof” from him and a much cuter squeak from me.  “I know—I know.  I need the magic to incubate the egg, and it has to come from me, but still—spending several hours at a time being doted on by a teenager my own age is going to be interminable.” He shakes his head and starts making his way home.  “You know—I wouldn’t mind being doted on by a few mares your age,” he says with a smirk, then suddenly twists his face into a grimace.  “Your pony age, I mean.  Changelings are into a lot of things, but foals… no thanks.” “That was implied,” I say, rolling my eyes. “Anyway,” he says.  “You should be ‘happy’ to know that the agency is sending their cheeriest, most saccharine high schooler, but then, we all have our yokes to bear.” I chuckle and wind up to smack him on the back of the head again—but stop myself.  “Yeah, sure.  I get to spend the night with some vapid airhead while you go to sleep and wake up a magical prodigy in a week.  Seems fair.” Shining Armor’s pace slows.  “You don’t know?” he asks. “What?”  I say, confused.  “Twilight said you were going in the chrysalis tonight, and that it’d take a week.” He slowly continues on to the house.  “Well, sure, but that’s just my body.  I’ll still be connected to the hive mind, and that means I don’t get a day off.  Why did you think it was so important I get these books today?  I’m going to be stuck in the basement reading, seeing as we have, a—uhh—spare… body taking up space.” I choke on my next breath.  “Wait—you don’t mean…?” “Ah… yeah,” he says.  “I thought Twilight told you.” “That—” I squeak.  “That is not okay!  No part of that is okay!  That’s my… body that I want nothing to do with ever again and… eugh…” He shakes his head and says, “Believe me, I know.  If it weren’t for this whole thing with the Princess, there’s no way I’d be doing it, but I’ve got a whole life to reinvent, and… the body is there.  Sometimes you’ve gotta take one for the hive.  Often.  Often you have to take one for the hive, but it’s not usually this… weird.  Look, I promise not to do anything strange—” “No,” I interrupt and take an anxious breath.  “Look, I really don’t have any right—I mean, it really isn’t mine any more.  Do… do whatever you want with it.  Whatever makes it bearable.  Have fun.  Learn something.  Just… don’t tell me and—no offense—stay the hell away from me with it.” “I—umm—right,” he says, dumbfounded.  A few moments later, he opens his mouth to say something, then thinks better of it. We spend most of the trip in silence. “Look,” I say when we’re almost home.  “Today wasn’t terrible.  You could have made it miserable for me, and you didn’t, so… thanks, I guess.” He just shrugs.  “I’ve had a few weeks to get used to the idea,” he says as we finally arrive at the house and he reaches for the door handle.  “Besides—goofy older brother, protector of innocent fillies, remember?  The whole hardass thing was doomed from the moment she showed up at our house anyway.  No idea why she latched onto me, but she’s been chipping away at it for months.” “I guess if there’s anything I’ve learned, it’s that in the end, Twilight Sparkle always gets her way.” The door opens to reveal what appears to be a shell-shocked Twilight with a strained, fake smile on her face and a twitch in her eye.  Shining Armor takes an involuntary step back.  Suddenly, as if a spell has just broken, her face turns from stilted daze to sickness and her hooves clap over her mouth as she makes a mad dash for the basement, barely remembering to slam the doors behind her on the way. “Oh!” beams a voice from the dining room that I recognize with dread.  “Is that the other one?” The clopping of hooves only gives me a moment to consider fleeing what suddenly rounds the corner—a gangly, pink alicorn with a violet, rose and gold mane. Princess Cadance, the alicorn of love and my personal nemesis… has come to foalsit me.  I can feel the bile in my throat already. Wait, that’s love.  Suddenly, I feel bloated beyond belief. Oh no.