In Sheep's Clothing

by Kydois


Chapter 7 — Midsummer Night

Nymph

The stupid, stubborn lock sat silently on the table, its mere existence mocking me and my sheer inability to unlock it. I had gone through most of the other locks each within a couple minutes—some of which I had trouble believing I took more than a few seconds on—but this one was a nightmare. The little tumblers on the inside were nearly silent, and I could have sworn that the correct placement of the pins changed each time I made an attempt.

The worst part was that Lily finished this lock on her first try. Definitely beginner’s luck.

My head fell to the table with a thud, and I rubbed at my weary eyes with a foreleg. Taking my first all-nighter was certainly an enlightening experience. The first surprise came after about three o’clock in the dead of night, when I stopped feeling tired. I’m certain it was because my body gave up on getting sleep and was instead trying to figure out who in Tartarus smashed a sledgehammer into my biological clock. It was the sort of state where I found it difficult to concentrate on anything, and my wandering mind regularly took spontaneous right turns in logic. At some point, I decided on heating up some tomato soup before puppeteering my body over to the stove to make a haphazardly constructed omelette instead.

Maybe this was how Lily thought all the time. Super low maintenance, with no real effort to connect point A to point B with anything more than a straight line. That sounded nice. It’d sure be a lot more efficient if I thought like her sometimes.

I had generally kept to a reasonable sleep schedule back at the hive. Everything was so regimented out that going through life there was like clockwork. Lings woke up, re-energized themselves with a bit of gathered love, made sure the hive was operating as usual, ironed out any anomalies, and went back to sleep when the time came for the night shift to take over. Since I was still in my nymph years, I spent most of my time training to be a ranger.

Fat load of good that turned out to be.

I rolled my eyes, muttering to myself in a poor imitation of Dexter’s voice as I continued to stare into the wooden table. “Oh, you know how to sneak and hide? Great! We just need you to stand in plain sight in front of all these ponies instead because you get to be an infiltrator now! Isn’t this grand?”

My head hit the table again as I mentally berated myself for my childish behavior. This was a grudge I needed to get over. It wasn’t going to do me any good if I started getting angry at everyling for turning my life sideways, and in my half awake state, the unstable combination of tired and annoyed was bound to get me into trouble if something like this became a sticking point.

I yawned, letting my tongue loll out like that of a lazy lion.

Still awake?” Crystal’s voice echoed through my mind. “You are doing well for a beginner. Better than I expected. With a bit of time, I expect you to be able to open any lock with nothing but your magic, so long as you can properly visualize the interior workings in your mind.

“Err… Thanks, I guess,” I said as I turned my eyes to look at my crystalline instructor. “No offense and all—I’m sure this’ll be important later on—but I’m still being followed by someone and I have no idea how to identify them.”

Only ’someone’? If the other queen has established any sort of hoofhold here, you might be surrounded by more than just a couple worthless thugs and an infiltrator.

“Right,” I said with a shiver. Just thinking that there could be more of them around, silently watching and reporting on me, raised goosebumps across my skin. “So how do I figure them out? Empathy sense will only take me so far against an infiltrator skilled at blending in with ponies, and I don’t have a single idea how to identify another changeling unless they’re in my hive and pinging me through the hive link. If I can’t even figure out who my hivemates are, how in Equestria am I going to identify a hostile?”

Yes, the age old problem of ‘how do I identify a changeling?’” Crystal replied with a contemplative hum. “There have been multiple ways of finding and eliminating rival changelings. For one, a very, very long time ago, rangers like you were practically designed to fight against other changelings. A shame that their skill sets suffer in the modern age.

I let out an exasperated huff, picking up the lock in front of me and sliding the lockpicks back in roughly as I went back to work.

There was a sigh from Crystal. “I understand, but rangers were useful back when it was simpler to tell who the outsiders were and when it was more important to blend into the wildlife than with other ponies. I suppose we could still find a use for your ability to suppress your empathetic signature, and if you were chosen to be a ranger, I presume your empathy sense is also very well developed, correct?

I nodded tersely, still staring intently at the lock in front of me with my tongue sticking out to the side. A soft snore emanated from the green pony at the table.

What else did the rangers have… Ahh yes, they were the first to make extensive use of the memory spell.

I stopped and shot a surprised look at the red gemstone. “Wait, not the infiltrators?”

Not at first. That particular piece of magic went through a lot of changes over the centuries. It was originally used to drain the target changeling’s magic, providing limited access into their hivemind, but that functionality has since been written out. A successful cast on a drone only provided a localized benefit, and circumstances improved to the point where no ling was willing to pay the staggering energy cost to use it. To use it on anything more than a drone, like a broodmother or, Elysium forbid, the queen herself, would require suicidal amounts of magical energy drawn from an outside source.

“Right, and I’m pretty sure that the memory spell I’ve been taught was just standard fare for use on ponies, so that’s out of the picture.” My ear perked up when I heard one of the pins click into place, and I moved to the next one.

Well, I might be able to remember it, given enough time. I am certain I learned it before. Regardless, there are other ways of discovering changelings hiding amongst the pony populace.

I raised an eyebrow. “Like what? I can’t think of anything that could break a changeling’s disguise.”

There might be spells to do that, but changeling illusions and their more extensive body morphing abilities are quite resistant to any pony magic I can think of. There is a fairly simple method of ousting a vast majority of changeling infiltrators: just sound like a changeling.

My brow furrowed. “Isn’t that what I don’t want to do?”

Depends on how you do it. The ponies have many expressions derived from the changelings themselves related to love and emotions. Phrases like ‘made with love’ and ‘smells like victory’ have much different connotations when used in a hive setting, and while ponies may gloss over such an expression, changelings do not. If you phrase it correctly to a ling, they will react on the emotional level, and you will be able to detect them. It is like mentioning a nostalgic memory to the elderly, or a dead body to a guilty mind.

“So wait, you’re trying to scare out other changelings with…”

With irony. There are too many outside factors for it to be a foolproof method, of course, but it is a good start.

Another tumbler fell into place. “Why do you think this’ll work? No ling is going to fall for such a cheesy tactic.”

Experience tells me otherwise. As much as other changelings try to, say, not think about the pink elephant in the room, they will invariably think about it if you say, ‘Do not think about the pink elephant.’ The concept is the same, save for emotions instead of thoughts.

I snorted disbelievingly as I finally moved to the last tumbler. “You said you had other methods, right?”

Well, none come to mind that I can teach you before we need to leave for the celebration.

One of my eyebrows raised at that, and I leveled an even stare at her. “If you don’t mind me asking, why are you offering to teach me all this stuff?”

Because believe it or not, my dear young Overwatch, it pleases me when my subjects learn. I used to be a ruler, you know.

“Really? I thought being a ruler would make you stricter. My queen and my instructors certainly weren’t the type to tolerate incompetence.”

Do not take my words to mean that I will not mete out harsh criticism when I need to. I will tolerate ignorance, but I will not tolerate incompetence in those I rely on to get things done.

I took a quick glance at Lilywater, who slept with her head on the table, a line of drool oozing out the corner of her mouth.

Yes, I know, but over my brief time with her, I have realized that Lily’s idiocy does not necessarily equate to incompetence. She is entirely capable, if just a bit simplistic on how she decides to tackle problems.

With a snort, I turned back to my lock, placing my ear close to the keyhole. “I’ll take your word for it, but you still didn’t answer my question.”

Your question on why I am assisting you?

I nodded slightly as I carefully pushed up on the last tumbler.

Crystal let out a contemplative hum. “I suppose it is for a number of reasons. One is that you are a changeling who is both too young and unskilled for the task that your sadistic queen has assigned to you, foolishness that boils my blood to even think about.

A scowl drew across my face as I continued to work the lock silently. At this point, I was simply jostling around the lockpicks for the sake of looking busy.

The other reason is… I am testing a theory of mine. Perhaps if I drew on my memory more, I would gain a glimpse of who I was before I became… Crystal.

The lockpicks fell silent, and I looked up at the little hunk of red beryl lying motionlessly on my dinner table, wrapped up haphazardly in masking tape and attached to a thin string for the sole purpose of letting her be carried around under somepony else’s power.

“I uhh… I—”

I do not require your sympathy. Worry about yourself first, nymph.

I sighed, returning to my lock. It was a bit of a shock to consider that Crystal hadn’t always been this way, and to hear that she was also suffering from memory problems was…

In a way, that made two of us, though I had a hard time debating on whether or not she had it worse. I only had problems keeping my pony self in check and away from my own memories as Nymph, but to lose an identity? To forget one’s name? At least I had an idea of who I was.

Speaking of worrying about yourself, we should make sure that we get to the celebration early.

I swiveled around in my chair, looking at the clock hanging on the wall. “Oh Tartarus, it’s almost that time, isn’t it.”

Time moves fast when you are not paying attention.

With a sigh, I turned back to my lock, which was thankfully still held in my magic, unrattled. “Whatever. I guess we’ll head out soon. Where’s it anyways, Penumbra Plaza?”

Presumably, though you could always follow the flow of ponies. There might be a few camped out there already, so we may have to leave an hour or two before it starts if we want a good spot.

“Fine, just let me get through this lock, and we’ll get going,” I said, holding my ear close as I bumped the lockpicks around.

I thought I heard a subtle click from inside, but I put too much force into it, and the pin passed the sweet spot. My neck started itching, but I refrained from attempting to relieve it as I tried one more time to finish the lock before me.

“Wow, this fish’s actually pretty fresh! Didn’t think it’d taste this good!”

I stopped. Taste, she said? I don’t even remember her waking up, let alone hearing her fire up the stove to cook.

I twisted around in my chair quickly, finding Lilywater in front of the open refrigerator, a fish clamped between her teeth.

Her pointy, jagged, most certainly not herbivorous merpony teeth.

There was a loud clatter as I dropped the things in my levitation onto the table. “Damn it! You could at least wait until I cook those before you start eating them!” I shouted, turning back to the table and the sad lock lying in a pile of disorganized lockpicks. “And after I finally finish with this stupid thing.”

“I ’ad the munchieth, and there was perfectly fine fith in the cold box!” Lily replied, muffled slightly through the raw bluefin tuna in her mouth. “Th’great stuff, by the way! Didn’ think I’d get thomethin’ thith good tho far from home!”

My eye twitched. “No, I am not going to stand for this,” I said, getting up out of my chair and trotting resolutely towards her. I plucked the tuna out of her mouth and, keeping my eyes away from the teeth marks, proceeded to wash off the spit in my sink. “We are going to be civilized ponies, and that means that we are going to cook our Tartarus-damned vegetables and meats before we put them in our mouths.”

“B-but it’s perfectly fine already!” Lily whined, the edges of her mouth turning downwards.

I trotted back to the fridge and wrapped up the fish again in its plastic. “No it’s not, and you’re not convincing me otherwise,” I said firmly, closing the door and walking back to my seat at the table.

“Aww poo,” Lily said, taking her own seat with a childish pout on her face. “What’d you put it back in for? I’m still hungry.”

“There’s plenty of food at the celebration. We can eat there.” I said as I stared at the stupid, stubborn lock in front of me, sitting there silently, judging me from its little place amidst the pile of lockpicks around it.

I swept Crystal off of the dining table and made my way to the front door. “Forget this. Let’s see if there’s any cake left.”


There was still plenty of cake, among other confectioneries. Or rather, the partygoers in the streets ran out of cake before promptly baking up another flotilla of cakes to devour. It was apparently tradition to gorge on them, though if I didn’t know any better, I would have likened it to ice cream depression binging.

They certainly weren’t being shy about it, at least.

“Hey, Miss Unicorn! You should try some of this! The meringue blends in with the chocolate ice cream filling perfectly!”

I looked warily at the plate levitating in front of me, loaded with one of the largest slices of cake I had ever seen. Admittedly, this feat wasn’t difficult. All I could remember were the few small birthday cakes I had during my childhood with Mom and Dad in Canter—

Wait.

I recommend that you cease your gawking and accept the cake.

I looked up at the mare, who still smiled brightly back at me with bright, friendly eyes as she held the plate out.

“I-I uhh…” I stammered out, before taking the plate with both hooves and staring resolutely at it instead of the pony. “Thanks.”

“Need a fork too?” she chirped as she turned to the table behind her. “I can get you one if your hooves are too full.”

“N-no thanks!” I blurted out, forcing a smile onto my face. “I uhh, I can get one myself.”

“Oh, okay then! Enjoy!” the pony said, and she skipped off with a plate of her own balanced on her back. “You should find a spot at the plaza soon! The celebration’s about to start!”

My muzzle remained frozen until she finally left my sight, and I breathed out a sigh of relief. Shifting the cake over to my levitation, I turned to the open plaza before me. A ring of guards patrolled at the edges with a few lone Royal Guards around the center stage. Steel Blade stood amongst the ones at the base of the wooden platform, only a few paces away from my boss.

I lowered my head. I would rather not acknowledge them if possible. Steel Blade continued to stand in his ramrod straight posture, and I was saved from having to wave at him so long as I pretended not to see him. Sergeant Flash Point, the NCO in charge of the Penumbra Guardhouse where Steelie and I were stationed, recognized me instantly. Even as far away as he was, I could tell his eyes had found me.

I decided to find something more interesting in the opposite direction to look at. They even dragged in the higher-ups for guard duty? Were they that short on bodies? A wince left me. I couldn’t have gotten off on medical leave at a more inconvenient time for them.

I do not believe I have ever seen a changeling so socially awkward around ponies. You understand that you need their love to survive, correct? At least make an effort to enjoy yourself.

“I was told that coming here would be prudent in maintaining my disguise,” I grumbled quietly. “If it were up to me, I wouldn’t have even left my condo.”

I cannot comprehend why you are so afraid of pony interaction.

I narrowed my eyes at Crystal, who I had hung around my neck, and hissed in reply. “Because I’m trying to figure out how to act like a pony! I have had zero instruction on the matter, and I’m trying not to talk to them until I figure it out.”

She remained silent as I began to make my way to the front, still keeping my head low. It was getting crowded, and I nearly stepped on a few hooves as I carefully navigated my way around the late night campers.

Most of the ponies had been mingling for hours already, creating tight paths between the larger groups. There was a very specific portion of the plaza that had been claimed by the nobility and upper class, and most of the middle class ponies went out of their way to avoid them. Not wanting to be caught alone in the wide berth the two classes gave each other, I decided reluctantly to weave my way at nearly touching distance between the common ponies.

That, and I had a niggling feeling that somepony in the nobility was watching me, ready to call me out on my lack of knowledge on pony etiquette. Already, I thought I saw a couple nobles whispering to each other scandalously on any social faux pas committed by the partygoers.

As I took a seat, squeezed uncomfortably into the middle of three large groups, Crystal’s voice decided to make itself heard again. “Ahh, it appears that you have taken the Lilywater route of consuming foods.

My gaze fell to the crystal around my neck. “What do you mean by that?”

That I should have told you to also accept the fork.

The green earth pony mare sat down to my side, carrying her own plate with a “slice” of cake that constituted far more than half of whatever dessert it was taken from. There was no fork.

“Uhh, Lily,” I said slowly, my eyes looking between the slab of sugar and chiffon and the merpony’s large grin. “How’re you planning to eat that?”

“With m’ mouth, obviously!”

She put the plate down in front of her and sat down. Leaning over one of the sides, she closed her maw straight onto the soft, spongy flesh of the chiffon cake. Frosting got everywhere, smearing over her muzzle as she chewed through her mouthful with a blissful smile on her face.

She was humming again. And bobbing her head back and forth. The spectacle was rather completed by the absolute mess across her face and on the plate in front of her.

I can’t believe I ever thought that the nobility would judge my manners with Lily sitting right next to me.

There was a sudden hush across the crowd as a lone stallion noble cleared his throat into the microphone on the platform. A quick glance identified him as the official in charge of the district, though his name escaped me, and I dismissed him quickly. Turning my eyes down to the cake I had, I plucked a piece off the side with a glow of magic.

“Welcome, fillies and gentlecolts, to the nine hundred and eighty-fifth Summer Sun Celebration!”

There was a loud cheer from the crowd around me. I plucked off another piece of cake. That pony was right. The meringue really did blend well with the ice cream.

“It is my pleasure, as director of this magnificent piece of home in Canterlot, to host this auspicious event, and to welcome all of you to the start of the longest day of the year!”

I closed my eyes as I savored the cool taste of chocolate ice cream in between the soft, moist layers. This one was just filled with love, and I lost myself in it, forgetting for a moment that I was out in the middle of hundreds of ponies I didn’t know.

“It is my great pleasure and honor to welcome Princess Celestia!”

My empathy sense flared up, and in only a few short moments, my senses were flooded by a concentrated source of powerful magic. I kept my eyes closed as I took in the abounding flavor of joy and happiness, combined with the chocolatey taste of wonderful love.

My muzzle twisted into a grimace. Was that… What was that?

I opened my eyes, turning them to the only possible source of the emotions. For the first time in my life, I cast my eyes upon Princess Celestia, the proud, immortal ruler of the beautiful nation of Equestria. She stood tall, her regal pose only serving to highlight her divine features. Her pure white coat glowed under the full moon, and her mane shimmered through a rainbow of colors as it flowed rhythmically around her. She spread out her alabaster wings, the snowy feathers creating an aura of light around her.

She was beautiful, and I stared unabashedly at her.

And yet something was wrong. I knew something was wrong. I felt it. It was well hidden under all her feelings of tenderness, but I tasted it.

It was longing.

Now that I managed to pinpoint the flavor, it was so much more noticeable on my senses. The overwhelming taste of the celebration was quickly tempered by the melancholic additions, blanketing the plaza in a bitter sweetness.

My heart ached. Must have been some stupid pony thing I picked up.

“Citizens of Equestria,” she began, her warm voice contradicting the atmosphere her considerable magic had created, “it is with a happy heart that I am able to raise the summer sun on yet another wonderful year! Here, under the stars just before the dawn of the new day, let us remember the experiences we have made over the past year and the friendships we have forged, for they are as much a part of us as who we will become. Even the darkest of nights—”

The emotion-laden air seemed to hiccup on my senses, a brief ripple that could have gone unnoticed if I hadn’t been paying attention.

“—can lead to the brightest of days,” Celestia finished, still smiling that same contented smile. “Without further ado, let us embrace the new day, and hope that we may all find something in our futures to look forward to.”

There was a brief fanfare, a short uplifting blare of horns that was lost amongst the grandeur of the ceremony itself, before Celestia rose from the floor effortlessly, as if carried up on rising tides. Almost immediately, the sky behind her flared in an explosion of reds and oranges, the light of the coming morning stretching out over the clear, cloud-free skies. I squinted up as Celestia became a mere black smudge against the blinding light of the sun, and when she finally reached the peak of her ascent, I could barely even make her out amidst the brilliant glow. The crowd erupted in a roar.

Just how I remember it.

“Cooor, that was quite a show there! Never thought I’d see the Lightbringer herself!”

“It’s… it’s…” I replied, still staring openly as the white alicorn began her slow descent, leaving her star up where it hung in the sky.

I told you it was impressive, though I had not expected you to be so captivated. You do have memories of past celebrations from your host pony, do you not?

“They weren’t quite like this!” I shouted, barely audible over the applause of the crowd around me. “Everything felt so much more… more! It was an awe-inspiring spectacle before, but this year’s just… It felt like I was being swept away by a river.”

Oh? Sounds like sympathetic empathy. Not surprising considering your sensitivity, but it could turn out to be a problem if—

“Shut up, I need a moment.”

I really did. I was holding back tears, though I wasn’t going to admit that openly. I wasn’t some silly hatchling fresh from the egg.

Celestia alighted softly onto the platform again before dipping down into a graceful curtsy. My nose sniffled again, and I finally turned down to look at Crystal again. “Alright, what were you saying?”

Sympathetic empathy. In short, your feelings are affected by the feelings of those around you. It is a phenomenon that really only occurs with the most empathetically sensitive of changelings, and if you are one of those…

"On one hoof, it would be great at helping you blend in with the ponies. On the other hoof…

“Sure, whatever. As if I didn’t already have zero control over my life.”

Crystal was silent for a moment, and for an instant, I thought I felt a twinge of confusion and curiosity from her. “You never did explain your circumstances to me, have you,” she said, more a statement of fact than a question.

I winced. “C-could we wait until we’re inside before I tell you? It’s a bit of a long story.”

If you are afraid of speaking aloud to me, you could use your hive link to communicate instead of speaking aloud. At least then, you would not have to worry about anyling catching you talking to me.

I blinked. Silently, I whisked off another piece of the chocolate ice cream cake. “Umm… H-hello?

Why hello there, Overwatch.

I let out an exasperated groan and threw up my hooves. “I can’t believe I never thought of this earlier.

You were distracted with other things, I presumed. In fact, I may go as far as to say that you should be distracted by other things at this point.

I snapped a glance to one side, but all I found next to me was a plate of much reduced chiffon cake and a distinct lack of merpony. “Where in Tartarus did Lily go?

Look forward.

I looked towards the central platform where Princess Celestia stood. She was bending down and appeared to be speaking with—

My horn flared up, and I levitated both pieces of cake off the ground as I hurried to the front as quickly as I could, dancing awkwardly between the ponies blocking my way.

Myiasis

Reporting in from the Aurora Guardhouse.

Reporting in from the Moonbeam Guardhouse.

I took a dainty sip from my teacup, my eyes closed as I lowered it down onto its saucer with little more than a small clink of porcelain.

Reporting in from the Celestial Guardhouse.

Reporting in from the Eclipse Guardhouse.

Reporting in from the Solstice Guardhouse.

A piece of cake floated up to my mouth, and I set it down delicately into my waiting maw before rolling it around with my tongue. It was a chocolate food cake, far denser and richer than the normal Germane chocolate cakes, and it was baked to perfection, creating a soft, airy, and moist layer cake with a flavor that permeated throughout the mouth. The pony bakers had really outdone themselves this time.

Reporting in from the Penumbra Guardhouse.

I finally swallowed my mouthful, taking a moment to bask in the afterglow of a cake more akin to a work of art than a mere confection.

My eyes opened, rising up until it met the newly risen sun in the sky. The Midsummer Night's festivities were grand, but everyone knew the real party began at sunrise with the insane afterparty known only as the Summer Sun Celebration. Everypony would be out, and every guard would have their hooves full making sure the revelry did not tip over into anarchy, leaving their guardhouses delightfully understaffed and, in some smaller neighborhoods, entirely empty.

I took another sip of my tea and addressed my infiltrators.

Thus begins the first step towards sinking our fangs into the still-beating heart of Canterlot. I wish you all luck in your individual tasks, and I hope that I will only receive good tidings upon their completion. The time has come. Go.

Your will be done, My Queen.