//------------------------------// // Chapter 1 // Story: Last Impression // by Typoglyphic //------------------------------// Griffonstone was a terrible place to die. A griffoness pulled a rickety cart down the centre of the once great city, her plumage ragged and sooty, her eyes dull. There was no reason for her to look so downtrodden—changelings could appear however they wanted, after all—but it seemed appropriate. No one should look healthy in Griffonstone. The streets, if they could be called streets, were empty, although most of the houses in Griffonstone were run-down enough to barely count as interiors. The light of the setting sun made the town look even dirtier, somehow.  The griffoness, known to most as Gilda, trudged toward the three-and-a-half walls she called home, her head held low and her eyes fixed on the ground before her. She wondered how many more days she would be able to make this walk. A pleasant aroma wafted from a nearby hut. Gilda turned to see a griffoness and two young chicks huddled together beneath a large blanket. The mother was whispering something, and her soft coo tickled the feathers around Gilda’s ears. The mother’s love smelled bittersweet. The flavour of desperate, despairing love. Gilda’s head started to pound. She kept walking. In Griffonstone, everything had a cost. Even love. And by the weight of Gilda’s bit-bag, she wouldn’t be able to afford that particular luxury for much longer. And a luxury it had been. Gilda reached her home and stopped. She unhooked the cart and set about removing its wheels. The hunk of junk wasn’t worth stealing without wheels. She left it out on the street and jerked the door to her house open. Once inside she turned and wedged it back diagonally in its frame. Her way of locking up. Gilda settled onto a blanket in the corner and tried to relax. Starved changelings didn’t suffer cramps like most creatures. They just started to waste away. Gilda smiled bitterly. Maybe Griffonstone was actually a perfectly fitting place to die. A blast of warm air swept into her paltry home as the door was shoved inward. “Hey, pigeon-face.” A black griffon crouched in the doorway. “You buying supplies this week or not? I don’t stock baking stuff so it can rot on my shelves.” Ugh. Way to rub it in. “Sorry Gideon,” Gilda snapped, “can’t afford it.” She definitely wasn’t going to get any love out of this guy. Gideon sneered at her. “Great, you too?” His eyes narrowed. “You still owe me from last week.” “That’s bull, Gideon. Don’t even try,” Gilda muttered. As much as she wanted to get in his face, she knew it wasn’t worth the energy. Gideon was the proud owner of Griffonstone’s last store, and he used that position to its full advantage. For the millionth time, Gilda wished she could just replace him. He had a mate and a chick, and enough bits to live comfortably for years. If only she were a better changeling. Gideon stepped in side and leaned over her. “You think you can do anything about it? Pay up or move out.” On second thought, she wasn’t really using that last bit of energy for anything. Gilda lit her suddenly very visible black horn, and Gideon fell to the ground, clutching at his throat. “You know what,” she growled, bringing her mouth down next to his ear, “you’re right. There’s nothing left for Gilda in Griffonstone.” The room flashed green. The black changeling was replaced with a passable copy of the griffon on the floor. She choked back a whimper as her vision clouded and her heart skipped a beat. “But there’s still plenty here for Gideon.” SNAP. *** “Giddy?” Gild—no, Gideon, smiled at the grey griffoness. What was she doing here? The general store was closed. Gideon’s mate? Oh, obviously. What was her name again? Gilphy? He could feel her love flowing into him. Tentative, nervous love. A trickle, really. “Yes? He stepped up and wrapped a wing around her. Griffons did that, right? Apparently not. The griffoness shook the wing off and squinted at him. “Are you feeling all right?” She stood between Gideon and the stairs to the second floor. Where Gideon—the original Gideon—kept the bits. “You look...” Gideon cleared his throat. “I’m fine, uh, honey.” Idiot! Gideon was a cock! He would never call someone honey. “I mean, uh… Gilphy?” He hadn’t meant to say it like a question, but that’s how it came out. The griffoness whose name was definitely not Gilphy took a step back. Then another. Then she half sprinted, half flew up the stairs. “Gage! Gamut! Out the window, now!” She disappeared upstairs. Gideon started after her, then stopped. What good would it do? He couldn’t fool ponies, and he couldn’t fool griffons. He definitely couldn’t fool changelings, and he was one. His best bet at collecting love was buying it. Turning, he grabbed a shelf and tore it from the wall. Why couldn’t he have ignored that pink pony? Things never would have come to this. He moved to kick a mirror he’d knocked to the ground and lost his balance as the dizziness came back. He slammed the back of his head against the dirt floor. The ceiling spun and pounded. He felt as though he were sinking through the ground. The door burst open behind him and a pony from his past shot through. “Pinkie! I think I found the friendship problem!” Gideon… Gilda tried to focus on the spectrum of colours leaning over him. “Rainbow Dash?” she whispered. “Do I know you? Were you at Canterlot or something?” The voice was raspy and thin and it sounded like love. Did love have a sound? Gilda had never noticed it before. “Ooh, a changeling!” Something was bouncing in his peripheral vision. Something pink. “What’s a changeling doing in Griffonstone, Dashie?” “Friggin’… dweebs...” Gilda groaned. *** “Woah...” Rainbow Dash took a step back. “Gilda? Changeling Gilda?” She looked down at the black equine. Its limbs were filled with holes, so many that they seemed almost hollow. Its wings were withered, its horn cracked. “What happened to you?” The changeling didn’t respond. Its unfocused eyes stared at Rainbow’s in wonder. “I think she’s hungry,” Pinkie murmured. Rainbow just stared. “She’s your friend, Dashie.” Pinkie put a hoof on Rainbow’s shoulder. “Even if it was only for a few days.” “… Gilda’s my friend. And she and Gloria are happy and safe in Ponyville where they belong.” Rainbow Dash turned and walked out of the store. Pinkie blinked at the changeling a few times. She started to step forward, then turned and followed Rainbow Dash.