//------------------------------//
// The Prince of Quislings 
// Story: Prodigy 
// by Sable Tails 
//------------------------------//

The first thing Stasis noticed as he looked down upon the main theater hall below was just how clean everything was. Gone were the small bits of trash and detritus that had built up over years of near-neglect; the plank walls, varnish or paint long since faded, had obviously been scrubbed and magicked clean; as the little changeling opened his nostrils wide and took a deep breath, even the air itself seemed fresh and purified of mildew and decay.
Ponies filed through the double-doors into the now-clean main hall, murmuring to each other, their pastels muted in the theater’s dim light. Stasis spotted the Strudels, Mr. Strudel wearing a surprisingly not-pastry-themed tuxedo while his wife had adorned a simple black dress and croissant earrings.
There was Crimson, wearing a dress so sheer it was almost invisible save for the pink, yellow, and orange flowers that dotted it, making them look as if they were resting on a sheet of flame. She was talking to fillies on either side of her while using her wings to wave at other ponies that passed by, almost aggressively gregarious.
There was Miss Bright from school, the golden highlights in her yellow dress making it seem to shimmer about her. She was whispering with a metallic-grey older unicorn Stasis didn’t recognize; as he watched, the stallion turned and met his eyes, and Stasis quickly ducked back behind the scaffolding.
When he peeked back over the edge, he saw Principal Principle, the old stallion ignoring the ponies around him as he made his way to the front and took his seat, sitting rigid as he looked off into space, seemingly lost in reflection.
There was another pony Stasis didn’t recognize, a hulking blue earth pony covered in muscle and fat. Another older mare was leaned up against him, supporting him as he struggled to descend the stairs to the front, and Stasis saw that his hindquarters were held in some kind of brace with a pair of wheels underneath.
“That’s Pierce’s dad, Big Blue.”
Stasis jumped, his heart doing something that felt very unhealthy in his chest. After a few moments he managed to wheeze out, “I know, Major.”
The orange pony looked over the edge of the scaffold. “You know, he used to be the Chief Constable of Trottingham! That was back before –“
“I know, Major. I already know all about that!” Stasis said, his face flushing angrily.
“Oh.” Major blinked. “I’m sorry.”
Stasis tried to push that out of his mind before peeking at the many, many ponies below them. “What do you want, Major?”
“Um… Mr. Jack was wondering where you were. The play’s about to start.”
Major must have seen something in Stasis’ expression, because he promptly scooped the little changeling into a hug. “You don’t need to be worried, Stasis! We don’t get introduced until later!”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about! You’re crazy,” Stasis said, spitting orange hair out of his mouth as he pushed away. “I’m not worried about some stupid play! This play should be worried about me.”
“Alright.” Major looked down at the crowd below. “Hey, is Star Swirl going to be here? I bet he’d love to see this play! It’s got good magic and evil magic and special effects magic and everything!”
Stasis looked away. “No, um… he’s still not up to leaving the house just yet.” And the little changeling had insisted that he stay home. No matter how things turned out that night, he didn’t think he could get through it all with the old wizard there just watching him.
“Oh. Okay. Well, let’s go!” Major said, leading the way back down to backstage.
Back behind the heavy red curtain, pony children milled about, whispering loudly and bumping into each other as they put the finishing touches on their costumes and props, their emotions a heady mix of fear and exhilaration that did nothing to quell the little changeling’s own beating heart.
“Where’s Goldie?” he asked, trying to spot her in the crowd.
“She’s trying to put on all her regalia. Hey! I’ll go see if she needs help!” Major said, trotting away toward the other end of the stage.
“But!...” Stasis began, but Major was already lost to sight. He shifted uncomfortably on his hooves, wondering if he should go help too, or if he should put on his own evil sorcerer’s costume, or if he should just… stand there.
“There you are, young thespian!” called out Jack, fillies and colts parting before the earth pony’s slow, plodding steps.
Stasis stared. Just as the theater itself had undergone an impressive makeover, so, too, had its owner. The stallion’s black mane and tail had lost their greasy, tangled look, brushed straight and shining. He wore a new suit, simple and brown, and – perhaps most wondrous of all – Stasis could smell no hint of the director’s omnipresent weed. If it hadn’t been for his gaunt frame and passive expression, Stasis might not have recognized him at all.
Jack paused before the little changeling, looking down at him. And looking down at him. The silence began to grow uncomfortable.
“…Yeah?” Stasis finally asked. He was struggling to understand how a pony’s expression could be so blank and yet so intense at the same time.
Jack’s emotionless eyes somehow bored into his as he spoke. “This is it, young thespian. The climax of our grand little endeavor. The height of our schemes. That moment when we cry out to the heavens, begging that, for one single, solitary night, we should be spared the harsh vicissitudes of reality. Wishing that, for one night, our hard work might be rewarded; our plans might come to pass; our struggles might not have been in vain. That our brittle dreams might, for one night, be spared the cold hammer of disaster and malfeasance.”
He took a step forward, and Stasis took a step back. “We stand on a precipice, young thespian. On one side lies a smidgen of success; an ounce of absolution. The hope that, one day, perhaps, we shall have the chance to perform a play of true worth; a piece of true art, with actors of venerable skill and boundless passion. A desire without foundation, yes, but one to strive for, to be grasped with tooth and tail.”
Another step forward, and Stasis found his back to the curtain, Jack standing impassive before him. “And on the other side of that dread precipice, young thespian? On the other side lies a long, despairing fall into the stifling mediocrity that is our lives. Of days spent wandering these empty halls, wondering how it all came to this.”
He leaned down. “Wondering why, at the crux of it all, children, the beloved future of our race, could not be counted upon to stop, to think, to remember, to act, and above all, to focus. Not on the frenzies of their imagination, but on the here and now. That we might all benefit. That we might all bask, for one, glorious night, in the cheering applause of an enlightened audience.”
…It took a few moments for Stasis to realize that Jack was done. The little changeling blinked, then nodded slowly.
“…Okay,” he confirmed.
Seemingly satisfied, Jack moved on. Looking back at the way he had come, Stasis noted a number of fillies and colts stumbling about, seemingly in a daze.
It was then that Major, wearing his hideous and hunched minion costume, broke through the crowd. Goldie was right behind him, sporting a frilly pink dress, a necklace of daisies about her neck, and a tall, conical hat upon her head. She also had a white belt and sword about her waist and a buckler tied around one foreleg. It was all very well color-coordinated.
“…What are you supposed to be, again?” Stasis asked. He’d heard it many times by now, but he felt like he really, really needed to hear it again.
“I’m Princess Rosenthorn, seventh daughter of the seventh daughter of the high king and chosen protector of the realm,” Goldie recited, her eyes narrowed, daring him to make something of it.
“…Okay,” was all that the little changeling could think of to say.
Major looked around, then leaned down close, his unpatched eye looking into Stasis’ with concern.
“Hey… if you don’t feel like you can do it, Stasis… if you don’t feel ready, we can do this some other time, can’t we? I can let Mr. Jack know you’re not feeling well, and we can –“
“No,” Stasis interrupted quickly. “Who knows when else Pierce is going to try to use his spell on me? I can’t risk him doing it in the middle of the street, or in class or something; not if I ever want to leave my house again. And when else am I going to get a chance to carry out my plan?”
He shook his head with more confidence than he felt. “No, Major. It has to be tonight. I won’t let him push me out; as long as we follow my plan exactly, we can defeat Pierce for good!”
He paused. “Or… for bad? I’m not sure.”
Major and Goldie looked at each other. “Are you sure you can really do this spell, Stasis?” asked Goldie skeptically. “It sounded hard.”
“It’s not hard at all!” Stasis protested. “Remember how I walked through walls that one time? That was way harder than this.”
“How long did it take you to learn how to walk through walls, though?” Goldie asked, one eyebrow arched imperiously.
“That’s… that’s not important, Goldie!” he said. “Abra’s only had a few weeks to master her make-me-look-like-a-horrible-changeling spell; if she can do that, then of course a vastly superior magician like myself can master my spell in just a few days!”
“Abra’s special talent is magic, though,” pointed out Major. “She’s also twice as old as you.”
“Whose side are you guys on, anyway?” Stasis demanded to know. “Remember those life-sized ponnequins I made of you two? I practiced so hard on those! I practiced ‘til they melted!” Technically, he’d only made one of them catch fire. But still.
Major swallowed, and Goldie’s voice wavered as she said, “I didn’t like the idea of you casting that spell on us before. Now I really don’t like it.”
He shook his head. “There’s no other way, Goldie! If I fail here, I’ll get captured for sure! I’ll get thrown into a dungeon somewhere, or turned into a statue, or, or blasted with the Elements of Harmony or something!”
Major looked thoughtful. “I bet Princess Celestia would give you a trial, though, even if she thought you were a monster. If it’s a really big trial, she might even be the judge! You could get judged by Princess Celestia, Stasis!”
Stasis’ mind filled with fantasies of fire and light. Lots and lots of fire. “Um… maybe not Celestia? Maybe… maybe the other one?”
Major looked around before leaning down and whispering, “I don’t think you want to be judged by Princess Luna, Stasis. I’ve heard that she’s not nearly as nice as Princess Celestia.”
Stasis felt himself begin to shrink down a bit as he stared off into the distance. “I… ah… um….”
“No!” Goldie said, stomping her hoof. “There’s not going to be any judging today! Is there, Major?”
“There’s not?” Major asked, looking at her quizzically.
“No!” she cried, head held high. “Because we’re going to go out there, and, and Stasis’ spell is going to work, and, um… and we’re going to teach Pierce what happens when he bullies one of our friends! Isn’t that right, Major?”
“Right!” Major said, doing his best to scowl.
“Friends?” Stasis asked quietly.
Goldie glared down at the slightly-cowering little changeling, daring him to make something of it.
“Right. Um….” He stood up, trying to recover his usual aura of self-confidence and authority. “Right! We’ll go out there, and we’ll crush our enemies under the weight of our friendship! Destroy them with unity, beat them with our common accord! Solidarity will be our scourge; rapport, their ruin! They’ll be begging for rainbows by the time we’re done… with….”
Seeing Major’s expression, Stasis quickly backpedaled. “Except for Abra, of course! Her, we’ll just… um… tousle a bit, I guess.”
“Prepare yourselves, children!” Jack’s voice called out. “Our time of reckoning is upon us!”
Stasis ran his tongue along his masqued teeth, imagining the fangs that he knew lied underneath. He shook a little, feeling his wings and backplate beneath the disguise.
Maybe Pierce was intelligent, and resourceful, and determined beyond all reason to bring Stasis to justice. Maybe the earth pony was bigger, and stronger, and about a thousand times more resilient than his little changeling counterpart. Maybe Pierce was in his own hometown, in his own country, surrounded on all sides by members of his own species who would gladly turn on the helpless philophage in an instant, surrendering him to their monstrous god-rulers to be cremated, or obliterated, or both.
…But! Stasis was a changeling – the alpha predators, the top of the pyramid, the first link in the chain! Other species dreamed of being as beautiful and chitinous and well-aerated as he! He was a prince, an atheling – so far above these mortal ponies, he was practically a celestial body himself! There would have to be a third princess, just to keep him reigned in!
He just had to remember that. He just had to remember that, no matter how bad things looked, he was the true terror here. He was the one Pierce should be afraid of, not the other way around.
…And, he had these pony friends here to help him, too. He was the most-allied little changeling he could possibly be.
“Are you ready, Stasis? The play’s about to start!” Major shouted in excitement.
“I am!” Stasis rejoined, mustering as much confidence as he could. “I am ready!... are you ready, Goldie?”
Goldie gripped the strap to her hennin in her teeth, pulling it tight. There was steel in her pink eyes as she looked back at Stasis, and nodded.

*	*	*

The crowd quieted as the lights were slowly dimmed. At once, several unicorns on the catwalks above shone their horns like spotlights, illuminating a lone filly standing at center stage.
Though Stasis could sense her fear, her nervousness, she held an expression of confidence as she began to monologue, acoustics carrying her voice even to the very rear of the theater.
“Once upon a time,” she said, “in the magical land of Equindor, there was born a unicorn, prince and son of the king. He was tall, and strong, and very, very handsome. Upon his father’s death, he asc… ascen….”
“Ascended!” came a harsh whisper from stage right.
“…Ascended to the throne, and together with his beautiful wife, they had one heir, a son. And everypony lived happily ever after.”
The filly paused, looking down at the floor, adopting a serene pose. The light began to change, casting her in dire shades of red and pink. The audience leaned forward, eager to hear her next words.
“…At least, it would have, but before he died, the old king had another son!” she cried, looking at the audience in fury, as if it was all their fault. 
“For all that his brother was tall, this one was short! For all that his brother was handsome, this one was ugly! And for all that his brother was good, this one was born very, very evil. Where most unicorns first learned to cast light, he summoned darkness! Where most ponies first spoke ‘mama’ or ‘dada,’ he cried ‘me!’”
The filly’s anger dissipated, and her voice took on a mournful, resigned quality as she continued.
“The elder brother, a kind and trusting stallion, ignored the signs of his younger sibling’s true, twisted nature. ‘Black magic?’ he would scoff. ‘As fine a color as any other! We don’t judge magic based on its color in my kingdom!’
“‘A dark tower?’ he would snort. ‘That’s my brother! Putting the architects and masons of our fair land to work!’
“’An undead army?’ he would laugh. ‘Ha! Let those dastardly meat-eating gryphons chew on that!”
Distant sounds of battle came from backstage, steel clanging against steel and heroic battle cries mixing with the grunts and growls of the undead. The spotlights began to grow dimmer and dimmer as ponies prepared for the next scene.
“After the coup,” the filly continued, “the wicked younger brother searched far and wide for his infant nephew, the true heir to the throne. Little did he know that the prince had been rescued by his great-uncle and taken far out to the edges of the kingdom, to be raised as a simple farmer boy, having no knowledge of his true ancestry and birthright.
“This is where our story begins, on that fateful day, when the forces of the false-king first descended on that simple farming community, and our hero must first take up his sword so that he may eventually take up the crown….”
…The play seemed to pass in something of a blur to the little changeling. Pierce mourned the death of his great-uncle, took up his father’s magic sword, and started hacking zombies to bits. He traversed the land, leaving death and devastation in his wake, but it was okay, because he mostly killed zombies, or monsters, or obviously evil ponies, and when he killed anything else he just felt really bad about it afterwards.
…Except he didn’t truly feel bad it about it; not at all. As Pierce slashed at his rotting nemeses, Stasis sensed nothing from the azure earth pony; as he bashed in the heads of hydras and manticores, there was almost a sense of boredom and frustration from the older colt.
But when he uncovered the vile traitor in his midst, with black-painted fur and diaphanous wings strapped to its back, Stasis could almost taste Pierce’s grim satisfaction as he sliced off its wings with his sword and cast it, hissing and screeching, into the bubbling lake of lava-colored tomato juice below. 
Of course, maybe it wasn’t vanquishing the fauxling that made Pierce so happy. Maybe it was the applause.
When it was Stasis’ turn to enter the limelight, to throw on his darkling cloak and deathly pallor, to finally let his inner wickedry shine through for all to see… he did his best. He cackled, he gloated, he talked and talked until his enemies finally took the hint and escaped. But his heart wasn’t really in it.
All he could see was his true enemy, standing just out of the view of the audience, his emotions under almost frightening control as he watched the little changeling with an unblinking gaze.
But every time he felt like this was all a terrible, horrible idea, the worst scheme he’d ever had – just when he felt like it was time for “plan B: the Everfree!” – he’d get a friendly nudge from behind, or a ridiculous smile from the side, or his orange minion would simply lose control as he seized him in a most un-rehearsed bear-hug and shouted his support for his dark lord to the rafters.
And then the Princess Rosenthorn took to the stage, and Stasis began to wonder if perhaps he – if they, all three of them – might somehow prevail after all. Though a (very) distant relation of the hero as well as being one of the designated love interests, Pierce’s advances were met with nothing but scorn, scowls, and, on one occasion, a bite. Though she laid waste to the corpses and monsters with the rest of the party, attempts to slay even the foulest of necromancers and dragons was met with glares of such intensity, such force, that had Pierce not soldiered forward and done the deed himself, the play would surely have ground to a halt right then and there.
Her unscripted verbal putdowns and attempts to off-balance, stumble, or simply trip Pierce, both surreptitiously and not, began to get titters and stifled guffaws from the audience.
That’s it! Stasis cried out in silent encouragement. That’s the way! Hearts and minds, Goldie! Hearts and minds!
…And then it was time. All of the wicked king’s lieutenants had fallen; all his schemes had torn apart. The protagonists had made it to the highest room in the darkest tower, where Stasis waited upon his throne. His throne carefully crafted from the skulls of all the other heroes who had made it this far.
He slowly opened his eyes. Before him was all that remained of the great hero’s party, all that managed to reach the top of his mighty tower unscathed: one princess, tassels dripping with the ichor of the damned as she nodded her silent encouragement. One redeemed zebra witch, her subplot so poor that Stasis had almost forgotten her entirely. And one prince, peasant’s outfit in tatters, sword ready at his side, expression as determined and unflinching as Stasis’ own.
“…We finally meet,” Stasis said, his lips slowly curling upwards in a Cheshire grin.
“Uncle,” Pierce said, taking a step forward. “Traitor. Monster. Since taking the throne, you’ve inundated the land in your darkness and deceits. All the travesties of our nation lie at your hooves, my ‘king.’”
“Bwahahahahahaha!” was the only appropriate response.
Pierce’s face darkened. “You think this is a game? You think you can just do as you please – that justice won’t find you?”
“Oh, please. Everything’s just so much more exciting with me around! And if I’ve damaged a few things, well… what’s a few scratches here and there?” Stasis buffed a scratch from a skull with the edge of his cloak, leading by example.
“And my great-uncle? My father? What about those, ‘Your Grace?’ What about those scratches? How are you going to buff out those?” Pierce asked, emanating genuine anger now.
“That was the zombies’ fault, not mine!” Stasis cried in indignation. “I may be a dark lord of evil, but you can’t blame me for every little thing!”
Abra strode forward, the zebra glyphs and markings on her face seeming to glow as she said, “Why not? You’ve lied, you’ve stole, you’ve bullied! You’ve tormented us… tried to ruin our lives! The only person in the whole world you care about is yourself. Even if you were born just a regular pony, you’d still. Be. Evil!”
Stasis sat up straight in his seat. “That… that is not true!” he cried. “I mean, the evil part is true. But look!”
He pointed at the oblivious Major, whose brow was furrowed in thought, probably trying to figure out where the script had disappeared to.
“That dinky pony is my friend!” he boasted. “Ha! I do care about other ponies sometimes! When it’s convenient.”
She sneered at him, the anger and disgust almost palpable. “You can’t be both evil and caring, you little pest! That’s impossible!”
Stasis took out his double-ended flail with his magic, holding it in front of him like a shield. “You – you shouldn’t underestimate me, you witch! I can love the whole world and hate it at the same time, if I want to! There’s nothing I can’t do!”
Abra looked about to retort, but Pierce held a hoof in front of her… and then his eyes met Stasis’ own. His expression tightened, and the little changeling could feel Pierce’s carefully controlled anger begin to rise.
“You know what I’m here for, don’t you?” Pierce said, his cobalt eyes almost mesmerizing in their intensity. “Yet here you are, waiting for me. You have a plan of your own, then. Another of your little schemes. Are you still that arrogant?”
Stasis’ mouth worked silently for a moment. “I –“
“I’m not going to ask you to apologize for what you’ve done – for what your ‘zombies’ have done. But neither am I going to sit idly by and let you do to my people what you did to my father!”
Pierce grabbed his wooden sword from its sheath with his mouth and glared at Stasis, his enunciation somehow still almost perfect as he said, “I’m not like you, though. I don’t enjoy hurting others – not even monsters. So I’m going to give you one opportunity, once chance to get out before I put your fate in the hooves of a higher power!”
Stasis’ heart beat wildly in his chest as he began to twirl his flail faster and faster in the air. “Never!” he snarled. “You think you’re some mighty hero? You’re not! You’re nothing! I’m practically a god compared to you, you… stupid punk!”
Pierce turned to look at Abra. “Abra! I’ll hold him. Get ready to –“
“BETRAYAL!” cried Goldie, swatting Abra hard on the backside with her sword.
“Aiiiiieeee!” Abra shrieked, jumping forward several steps and turning towards her attacker. “What are you doing, Goldie? That’s not in the – ouch! Jack! Jack! Tell her to stop!”
A long, trembling, resigned moan came from stage right. The crowd began to mutter.
Pierce eyed Goldie with narrowed eyes, then whipped back around toward Stasis, genuine rage crossing his features as he shouted, “What have you done to her, you monster? Let her go!”
“Is this town not big enough for both of us, Pierce?” Stasis snarled, his flail swirling ever faster. “Is that the way it is? Is it you or me?” He raised his weapon on high, tensing his haunches.
“Then I. Choose. ME!”
Stasis leapt from the edge of the throne as he sent the flail twirling at Pierce as fast he could.
Pierce was faster, snapping his sword across the center chain, causing it to wrap and snap against the blade rather than his face. But the blow knocked him back, and when Stasis barreled into his front legs, he fell to his knees.
Stasis didn’t waste a moment, gripping Pierce’s mane in his teeth as he swung himself atop the earth pony’s back.
“Giddyup, you fool!” Stasis cackled, kicking his hind legs against Pierce’s flanks as he gripped both their weapons in his magic, yanking them about like a bit, twisting Pierce’s head to the side.
“Get off of me!” Pierce shouted around his sword, bucking hard, nearly sending Stasis flying as he slowly twisted his head back, that infuriating earth pony strength overcoming the atheling’s powerful magic.
Stasis only snarled in response as he jumped forward, gripping Pierce’s neck tightly in his forehooves as he blasted light as hard as he could directly into Pierce’s eyes.
Pierce swore loudly, leading members of the audience to gasp as he thrashed and bucked wildly, causing Stasis to screech as he gripped Pierce with hooves, teeth, and even wrapped his magic around the earth pony’s slippery aura, levitating them both together as hard as he could.
“Pierce! Pierce, you moron!” Abra shouted from behind her wall of levitated books, trying to keep them between her and her adversary as Goldie searched for an opening. “He’s six years old! He’s half your size! What are you doing?”
Pierce stopped abruptly, eyes still clenched shut in pain, his sides heaving. Before Stasis could twist the weapons with his magic again, Pierce dropped and rolled.
“Aaaaaaah!” Stasis cried as he leapt from Pierce’s back at the last second, hitting the floor and scrambling away to keep from getting crushed under the larger pony.
As he seized his weapon in his magic and got to his hooves, Stasis turned and saw Pierce standing there, his mane already starting to stick to his neck with sweat, his watery eyes open and blazing.
Pierce dropped his sword to the floor with a clatter, and lowered his head.
“No. No, Pierce! Get away!” Stasis cried, as he began to flee.
“You can’t run this time!” Pierce shouted, galloping toward stage right, going much faster than Stasis remembered from the last time they fought, beating him there.
As Stasis began to turn around, Pierce shouted, “Abra! Block the other exit!”
Seeing Abra positioning herself before stage left, Stasis turned back around, twirling his flail in front of him defensively.
“Hey? Hey, guys?” Major said from the sidelines, looking lost. “Remember: this is all just pretend! You guys need to be careful! Somepony could get really hurt!”
Pierce began to walk toward the little changeling, his expression not looking ‘pretend’ at all.
“He’s… he’s right!” Stasis cried, spinning the flail about as fast he could. “Stay back, Pierce, or I will hurt you with this thing! It’s not a toy!”
Pierce broke into a trot.
Stasis flung the flail at Pierce with all the force he could muster.
The wooden flail struck him head-on, one end snapping against his neck while the other end struck him full on the mouth, a trickle of blood leaking down his chin. Pierce didn’t seem to notice.
With a cry of fear, Stasis turned and made a dash towards the audience, every member of which was staring at him with confusion and concern.
He hadn’t gotten more than a few steps before he felt a searing pain as his tail was yanked back with enough force to send him sprawling on his belly. He was roughly flipped over, Pierce glaring down at him.
A droplet of blood fell from Pierce’s chin onto Stasis’.
“No! Leave my friend alone!” Major yelled as he shoved Pierce away, toward the edge.
“Major, no!” Stasis cried.
But it was too late. Major may have been only a year or two younger than Pierce, and nearly as large, but there was a vast difference between the two, not the least of which was fighting prowess. In a matter of moments, Pierce had gripped Major’s shoulders and used his own momentum to send him stumbling away from Stasis.
Towards the edge of the stage.
“Major!” cried out Stasis, and Goldie, and Abra. And much of the audience.
Major’s eyes met Stasis’, hooves teetering on the edge as he opened his mouth as if to speak.
He fell to the ground below with a dull ‘thud.’
“…Ow…” came a pained groan as the audience broke out in a multitude of voices calling, grumbling, and yelling; Major’s parents and a few others rushed down to him as others hurried around the edges of the theater, apparently headed for backstage.
“How dare you!” Stasis shouted, seizing his flail with his magic.
“Abra!” Pierce snapped. “We’re out of time! Get –“
The flail snapped against Pierce’s hind legs, and Stasis heaved.
Pierce grunted as it was his turn to be yanked backwards onto his belly.
But Stasis wouldn’t stop there, oh no. He poured as much energy and rage as he could into the flail, dragging the stupid, worthless earth pony towards the edge of the stage.
“You just can’t leave things alone, can you, Pierce?” Stasis yelled. “You horrible, useless pony! You can’t let me have two seconds to just… just enjoy being here!”
He walked slowly towards Pierce, Pierce’s hooves scrabbling against the plank floor, trying to find purchase as his hind legs were slowly pulled off the edge.
“And now you hurt my friend? My friend?” Stasis said, his voice much lower. “Well. If you’re going to treat me like some kind of monster, then I guess you can’t complain too much when I act like one, can you?”
He lifted one forehoof, aiming it at Pierce’s own. Then he shifted it slowly to point towards Pierce’s stony, glaring face.
The little changeling grinned.
“Stasis! Watch out!” cried Goldie from behind him.
Stasis turned. He caught a glimpse of Abra’s face, sweaty, triumphant, as she touched him with her horn.
For a second, there was nothing. He almost sighed in relief.
…Then he was on the ground for some reason, and there was a lot of screaming and yelling, and he felt really, truly terrible. Also, Goldie was in his face for some reason. Her fear made him feel nauseous.
“Stasis!” she shouted, shaking him roughly with the tips of her hooves, as if she didn’t really want to touch him. “Stasis, you’ve got to cast your spell! Quick!”
Rather than groaning like he wanted to, Stasis managed a “Wha?” as he lifted his head and tried to get his eyes to focus on the crowd.
“Changelings! Changelings! They’re invading!” cried one hysterical mare.
“What is the meaning of this?” yelled one important-ish looking stallion. “Jack! Jack, if this is a joke, it is in very poor taste!”
“Little girl! Get away from it!” cried another mare.
“Oh… oh, no…” Stasis groaned as he tried to get up. Tried to flee.
“Stasis! You! Have! To! Cast! The! Spell!” Goldie yelled in his face, punctuating every word with a violent shake of his shoulders.
“Spell?” Stasis mumbled. Everything was so blurry and loud and angry and afraid. His wings twitched and buzzed as he tried to disentangle himself from Goldie so he could get away.
“Stasis!” roared Major from stage left, where he was even now thundering across the platform towards the helpless little changeling.
Stasis gave a very inequine, unmasculine shriek as he tried to scramble out of the way of the rampaging pony.
Major swept him up in his forelegs, crushing Stasis to his chest in a bear-hug. The little changeling gasped, the feel of someone touching his real, bare fur burning away the last vestiges of fuzziness and confusion.
“Stasis!” cried Major. “You have to –“
“Cast the spell!” Stasis finished, trying to push away from the much larger pony. “Let me down! Let me down, you crazy pony!”
“What spell?” Pierce, apparently having lifted himself back onto the stage, now stood as a bastion of calm in the midst of the swirling emotions, blood still dribbling from his lip. “Abra, what spell are they talking about?”
Abra stood there, unmoving. Even her emotions seemed frozen as she stared at Stasis. “He’s… he’s actually a….”
“He does look a bit different than the other changelings we saw, doesn’t he? Perhaps ponies will learn to actually listen when I warn them of dangers in the future,” Pierce said, wiping his mouth. “Though I doubt it.”
Stasis threw his head back and let loose the most bloodcurdlingly cruel, oppressively maniacal, undeniably wicked laugh he could muster. He cackled and crowed, until the theater had quieted and all attention had once more returned to him.
“You fool!” he finally wheezed, taking a deep breath. “You think you’ve beaten me?”
“Yes,” Pierce said, his eyes narrowing. “What are you doing?”
Stasis summoned his magic, letting if flow over his companions, feeling their contours in his mind as he began to cast the spell.
Oh, please let it work like it did on the ponyquins! Oh, Mother!
“You think you can handle one little old changeling, hero?” he sneered. “How about three!”
Stasis released his spell.
At once, Major and Goldie both lifted in the air, caught in the powerful burst of thaumaturgical energy. They gave a small cry as magic began rippling up their bodies. Fur seemed to burn with power as it turned from orange and white to dark grey; limbs sprouted holes in random locations; small, curved horns grew from their foreheads while membranous wings burst from their backs.
Stasis gasped for air as he inspected these, his first ‘real’ illusions. Quite a step up from turning marbles from one color to the next!
“Look!” Major cried, looking out at the audience through one of his legs. “I’m a changeling!”
“You’re a bad pony, Pierce!” Goldie shouted. “A bad, bad pony!”
Pierce looked behind himself at the crowd, and he must have seen the same thing Stasis did, because his calm emotions immediately broke into consternation and frustration.
“Oh, for Celestia’s sake,” he cursed.
“Your puny pony gods can’t help you now, hero!” Stasis cried.
“It’s just an illusion!” Pierce yelled back at the audience. “It’s – Abra! Explain the difference between what you did and what he did!”
“I….” Abra looked out at the audience, where ponies were already beginning to let their feelings be known.
“You think this is funny?”
“Is the director drunk? Who’s running this play?”
“It was funny at first, kids. It’s time to stop now.”
“I….” Abra looked at Stasis.
He gave her a big, friendly changeling grin.
“I just want to go home!” she cried, galloping for backstage.
“Abra! It’s okay; we’re not really changelings!” Major yelled, looking like he was almost ready to go after her.
“They’re right,” Stasis said, stepping forward, wonderfully, deliciously naked in front of all of these non-hostile ponies – feeling more in-control than he ever had before in his life.
He stepped right up to his foe’s soft, unchitinous body, staring directly up into his face. He bared his fangs in what the ponies probably thought was a smile.
“It’s time to stop now, Pierce,” he said. “Time to go home.”
Pierce’s expression darkened, his anger flared, and for a moment, Stasis thought Pierce was about to strike him.
But then the azure earth pony whirled around on the crowd once more. “You can’t all seriously be buying this, this load of… horsecrap, can you?” he yelled. “Think! Think about the circumstances in which he came to Trottingham! The timing! Do you think that was all just coincidence?”
“I lost my parents to those monsters!” Stasis cried out without hesitation. “How dare you! How dare you use their deaths like it’s some kind of weapon!”
“His appearance! His name!” 
“Plenty of ponies have grey fur or green manes and tails where I come from!” Stasis said. “I got bullied enough because of it back there. My parents told me Equestria was a place we could go to get away from all that!”
“He’s a liar! A thief! A selfish, egotistical little brat! How many of you have ever met a child as misbehaved as this? Where did he learn this behavior, unless it’s in his blood? Unless that’s the kind of creature he is!”
“Why can’t you just leave me alone?” Stasis yelled back. “I’m trying to do better! I’m trying to be a good pony! Why do you have to keep treating me like I’m such a monster?”
“Because you are one!” Pierce said, whirling on Stasis with such force that he stumbled back a few paces. “Everything you do and say is a lie! But I won’t let you deceive everypony any longer!”
It wasn’t hard for Stasis to put fear and trembling into his voice as he said, “My parents –“
“Shut! Up! About! Your! Parents!” Pierce screamed, advancing upon him. “Your mother is a giant, evil insect! An abomination that slaughters towns so she can have the strength to pop out more monsters like you!”
“Pierce Blue!” boomed a voice across the theater. Standing in the front row, the hefty stallion from before, Big Blue, gave his son a look that was at least as menacing as any other that night.
For once, Stasis felt genuine fear spread out from Pierce like a wave. Pierce quickly stepped out of the way, and pointed at Stasis with one hoof.
“Father! Look, he’s… he’s right here! You can see him right here! You can see what he is!”
Stasis’ heart pounded in his chest as the ex-chief constable’s eyes swept over him, from top to bottom. Examining him.
Finally, he spoke. “If he was a changeling, don’t you think that Star Swirl the Bearded, of all ponies, would know that? I’ve known that old fossil for years. If anypony would know about creepy, dangerous monsters and such, it would be him.”
Pierce wiped the blood from his mouth again. “He’s… I’ve told you, Father! They have mind control! Goldie, Major, Star Swirl – look at how they act around him! Would they be this loyal to some random brat?”
“Mind control?” Stasis said, his expression and tone baffled.
Big Blue’s jaw was so tight for a moment, Stasis thought he could hear the teeth grind. After a few moments, he seemed to calm down through sheer force of will, and jerked his head back towards the entrance.
“Son,” he said. “Let’s go.”
Pierce’s mouth moved silently for a few moments.  He watched as patrons called their children from backstage and began filtering out the front doors. “But I –“
“Now.”
Pierce turned and looked at Stasis. And Goldie. And Major. His eyes flickering about as quickly as his emotions – fear, fury, sorrow.
Shame.
Just as Stasis began to wonder if Pierce wasn’t somehow broken, Crimson alighted on the set and took his hoof. Her expression and emotions were just as mixed as she led him unresisting from the stage.
As more parents and children fled the theater, as Pierce left in the company of his family and fillyfriend, Stasis stared after them.
…
…
…
“…Did I win?”

	*	*	*

	Stasis stared at himself in the mirror, the dim backstage lighting supplemented by his crooked horn as he rubbed one hoof along his chin, the fur feeling short and smooth to the touch. He wiggled his long, pointy ears, laying them back against his head before erecting them again. His sunflower eyes, large even by the standards of ponies, blinked back at him, and he began curling his lips from his teeth, turning his head back and forth as he inspected his perfect white fangs. He stuck his tongue out at himself, flicking the long, thin black muscle about like a snake’s.
“Ew,” Goldie said from beside him, her muzzle wrinkling in disgust.
Major stuck his blunt, pink tongue out, then frowned at it. “You know, your spell is really good and everything, Stasis, but… I think Abra’s was better.”
“Too good,” Goldie affirmed. “You’re creepy. You’re even creepier than you normally – hey! Stop that!”
Stasis continued looking over his shoulder as he waggled his long, heavy tail at the mirror, ever disappointed at the lack of range of motion the appendage possessed compared to its equine counterparts. He supposed the ponies needed to have one thing that they were better at than changelings….
“Stop wiggling your butt at us,” Goldie demanded with a stomp of her holey hoof. “And… and get rid of this spell! I don’t want to look like this anymore!”
“You’re always so angry, Goldie,” Stasis grumbled as he turned back about. “You’re an angry, angry mare.”
“I’m with Goldie,” Major said, also inspecting his disguise. “This is kind of fun, but I don’t want ponies to think that I’m really a changeling.”
“Changelings are scary,” Goldie continued, “and they hurt ponies. And they bite them, and – and it’s not fun to pretend to be bad things!”
Major moved over and gave her a hug. “It’s alright, Goldie,” he said. “Nopony thinks that Stasis is a changeling anymore! And we couldn’t have done it without you! Isn’t that right, Stasis?”
“I guess…” Stasis mumbled. As difficult as it was to create the illusions, it was a simple matter to dispel them; Goldie and Major both gave a slight shiver as magic fell from their bodies in a curtain of light, before dissipating into the air.
Looking at himself in the mirror, Stasis gave a small wave as he summoned his masque, the vastly more complex illusion flowing out and through his body, changing him back to his now-familiar pony form in a rippling flash of yellow light.
He sighed, eyes downcast.
“Stasis, are you alright?” Goldie asked, shaking off Major’s hug and standing beside him. “Aren’t you glad that we beat Pierce?”
“Nopony’s going to believe him anymore,” Major continued, “and without Abra, he can’t cast that spell! You get to stay here with us, now! Friends forever!”
Goldie leaned down, looking up into his face. “Stasis? What’s the matter?”
“Nothing!” he said, stretching his mouth in a smile. “Hey, um… don’t you guys need to get home? It’s getting pretty late.”
“Oh, hey!” Major exclaimed, then frowned. “…He’s right. We should probably get going.”
“Are you just trying to get rid of us?” Goldie asked, her expression one of deep suspicion.
“Don’t be paranoid, Goldie!” Stasis said, smiling broadly. “You saw where that got Pierce, didn’t you?”
“It’s pretty dark outside, Goldie. Do you want me to walk you home?” Major asked.
Goldie continued to stare at Stasis for a few moments more, eyes narrowed, before she slowly turned around to face their orange friend. “No, it’s alright, Major. My dad’s waiting for me out front.”
“Oh!” Major gave her a nervous smile. “…It’s still dark out there, though. And windy. It might storm.”
“My dad and me can walk you home, Major,” Goldie offered with a nod. “It’s alright.”
“Great!” Major exclaimed. “Hey, Stasis? You want us to walk you home, too?”
“No,” Stasis said, shaking his head. “My home’s all the way out on the edge of town, remember? And besides. This is Trottingham. I don’t really think there’s anything scarier here than I am.”
“Well… okay. If you’re sure,” Major said, already walking towards the exit.
“We’re going to see you tomorrow, though? Right?” Goldie asked.
“Don’t get all…” Stasis waved his hoof about. “…Clingy, Goldie. You’ll see me when I want to be seen.”
Goldie mumbled something about stupid jerks as she trotted off after Major.
Stasis sat there and listened as her hooves clip-clopped against the floor. He listened as the voices of his friends grew more and more distant, until the sound of the front doors slamming shut echoed throughout the empty theatre. He sighed again, and made his own way out of the building.
Pushing past the doors, out into the lobby, then past another set of doors, Stasis looked up and down the dark streets.
Nopony. His friends were long gone, the stores and businesses of downtown Trottingham going from greyscale to near-black as clouds passed in front of the crescent moon. The wind whipped through Stasis’ mane, blowing the thick air of another storm rolling in from the Everfree, uncontested by the local pegasi.
As he began the long walk home, Stasis pondered. He didn’t know why he didn’t feel better about his win over Pierce. It was so complete! It was an awe-inspiring, soul-crushing defeat for the blue pony, such as Stasis could never have imagined!
In front of his father. In front of his mother. In front of his fillyfriend. Pierce’s vendetta was now a wedge between himself and all of them, and if he ever dared raise a hoof against Stasis again, the little changeling wouldn’t hesitate to throw his full weight upon it. This was just a warning shot - he would destroy Pierce, if he had to.
…So why didn’t he feel more victorious? It seemed like, like… everything should be fine now. As long as he didn’t do anything particularly stupid, as long as he was careful, nopony would dare suspect him of being a changeling now. He just had to keep his true identity a mystery, and he would be safe forever. Nit would keep his secret; the other changelings would think he was dead. And one day, after he learned everything he wanted to, and did everything he wanted to, he would… he would….
“Stasis,” called a voice.
Looking up, Stasis saw in front of him a metallic grey unicorn, standing alone in the middle of the road.
“Do I know you?” Stasis asked, then frowned. “Wait… you’re Miss Bright’s date, aren’t you?”
The stallion continued to just look at him. Rather than Pierce’s hard, analytical gaze, this pony almost seemed to look past him, through him. Emotions flew about just under the surface, belying his blank expression, but they were mixed and Stasis couldn’t make heads or tails of them.
“Hello?” Stasis said, ears flattening against his head as he took a step back. “Are you alright?”
The pony’s eyes flicked to meet Stasis’ own. When he finally spoke, it was in the Old Tongue, the shrill words cutting across the abandoned street. “I had to see it with my own eyes. Even when I tore the memories from our brother’s mind and saw it through his, still I could not believe until I had seen it with my own eyes.”
Stasis gasped and shrunk down instinctively, his belly almost on the ground. “…Vertex?”
Vertex’s eyes almost seemed to glow with a green inner fire brighter than the moonlight. “What is this? What is this, little prince? Do you know what you are doing?”
Stasis coughed, his throat feeling dry. “I can explain! It isn’t what it looks like. There’s a perfectly logical explanation for –“
“Those two children are important to you. Close to you,” Vertex interrupted. “I can taste the love for them on my tongue. You abandon your brothers, your sisters, for these creatures. Your mother is past all sorrow; she prayed for longer than you can imagine for a true child of her line, and now her heart lies fallow.”
Stasis’ jaw clenched, and for the first time that night he felt his eyes grow moist. “But… but you can tell her –“
“Tell her what,” Vertex snapped, beginning to walk forward. “Give me the words, child, that I might put her mind at rest. Should I tell her that her only true Son of Change would rather play games with his food than be at her side? Should I tell her that her beloved child, who holds only scorn for his true father, has taken an animal as a surrogate?”
Stasis began to back away as the Killing’s fury grew almost palpable in the air. “I have through the eyes of others seen more children come to fruition than you can understand; yes, princes and queens too. I have seen clever ones, dull ones, fast ones, slow ones, strong ones, and ones only fit to be culled. But I have never seen a child so prone to rebellion and arrogance as you. At first I suspected our mother, that she coddled when she should have struck and bit.”
Vertex reached with powerful green magic, grabbing Stasis tight and stopping his retreat. “But now I see the truth of it. There is something rotten within you, child; I can smell the stench. All manner of defect and deficiency have I seen in the minds and bodies of our young, but never before I have seen a changeling experience such blight upon his very soul!”
Stasis’ throat felt tight and a deeper sort of panic rose within him as he began to strain his muscles against his brother’s bond. “Brother,” he gasped. “Brother, you’re crazy, and you need to let me go. I’m ordering you to let me go!”
Vertex stopped just in front of Stasis. If Pierce had stood tall, Vertex practically towered over the little changeling, and even his masque showed thick muscles and scars from decades of conflict. Stasis had seen him slay another Killing, a brother sentenced to die, once; he had made it look so easy.
“There is a reason why we cull those who cannot carry their own weight, prince,” Vertex continued. “It is no easy thing. Even after all these years, your mother can barely bring herself to do what is necessary for our family. Because this is a harsh world, and if she doesn’t, that rot will grow like a cancer until it has starved the entire family.
“What, then, about a prince who cares not even for his own kind? You’re no threat to anyone now. What of when you’re fully grown, when you are at your full strength? What will come of an atheling that knows our secrets, who spits upon his own parents and his own kind while he befriends the children of the Sun and Moon? What good can come to our race from a prince who knows nothing of duty, of responsibility, of sacrifice?”
Stasis forced his head upward until his gaze met his brother’s and he bared his teeth. “At least some of these ponies actually like me! They all think I’m some useless pony orphan, and they still treat me nicer than any of you! Even Mother only loves me because I’m a prince!”
Vertex gazed down at him, some of his coldness returning. “You’re right,” he said after a few moments. “Fate has played on us a joke, that you, least suited for rule, should have been born into it. If you had been born a common underling, I would already have finished my task and returned home.”
Stasis felt his resolve crumble as he stuttered, “Y-you can’t do that, Brother. I’m not a quisling, I’m a prince, and you can’t do that to me. You have to take me home to Mother! Only she can decide what’s going to happen to me!”
“Even now you’re so cruel, O Prince of Quislings,” Vertex responded. “Mother thinks you dead. Father has already passed his judgment. Would you have me take her son away from her a second time?”
Vertex pulled a blade, seemingly from his mane, and attached it to his hoof in one practiced motion.
Stasis screamed, shedding his disguise in a swift torrent of magic that shattered his brother’s hold on him. Turning, he beat his wings and lifted into the air – only to fall with a cry as the end of one bloomed with pain.
“Do not do this, child,” Vertex said, lowering the bladed hoof. “For all your other faults, I cannot remember when last I saw so much bravery in one so young. It is beneath a Son of Silvertongue to die with his back turned.”
Stasis lifted himself from the cobblestones, fear overriding the pain as he broke into a gallop, eyes searching frantically for anypony still left on the street.
There! An unfamiliar stallion wearing a hat had just turned the corner, coming into view.
“Help!” Stasis yelled as he sprinted as hard as he could toward the pony. “Help, please!”
The stallion looked up, startled, and took a step back as Stasis dashed past, then behind him. “Wait, aren’t you that changeling-actor from the pl–“
Vertex reached the pony, snapped his hoof across his throat, and tossed him over the nearby fence in one smooth motion.
“You’re doing these creatures no favors, traitor-prince,” he said calmly. “Without their goddesses to protect them, they are sheep.”
Stasis’ heart beat fast in his chest as he resumed his gallop back toward the town center, but this time he swerved into a yard, hooves digging deep into the grass as he sprinted through and past swings and houses. When he came to a fenced-in property, he dashed through the open gate and began to turn back toward the street. The gate at the other end was large, shut, and locked.
“For the sake of your own pride, child, do not end this trapped like a –“
Stasis cast the phasing spell and burst through the fence, sparks of yellow fire shattering across it and withering the grass below.
“– Why did I ever teach you such a spell!” Vertex snarled behind him as he, too, sprinted through the obstacle.
Stasis pushed himself faster, faster, as fast as his short little legs would allow, sides heaving and hooves smashing the ground as he swept past the houses. Raindrops began to drizzle from the sky and beat on his face in lieu of tears as the larger buildings of the business district came into view, their sharp silhouettes reaching up towards the darkling clouds above. Stasis plotted the route to the new constable headquarters in his mind, hoping that perhaps all of them combined might be able to stop his brother, the Killing’s swift hoofbeats seeming to fall farther and farther behind –
Vertex appeared in a flash of light before him, the sole of his hoof slamming into the point of the little changeling’s horn with enough force to stop him dead in his tracks. It was not so much pain as nausea that flooded Stasis’ body, and he attempted to grasp both his head and his stomach and moaned as he slumped to the ground, trying not to vomit.
Vertex lowered his bloody punctured hoof to the street, his eyes and emotions burning with barely-concealed fury. “So be it,” he whispered, just loud enough for Stasis to hear. “So be it. Father will look through my eyes, and he will see his son die a coward.”
He grasped the little changeling’s shoulder and flipped him roughly onto his back.
“No,” Stasis moaned, trying to focus his blurred vision on his brother. “No, this is a mistake. Take me back to Mother!”
Vertex straddled him easily, a sudden gust of wind blowing his hair back from his stony, scarred expression. He lifted the bladed hoof into the air.
Stasis burst into tears, waving his hooves desperately between him and the knife, turning his face away as he tried to press himself back into the cobblestones.
The muscles in Vertex’s jaw clenched, each breath heavy as his blade seemed to waver in the wind.
Stasis screamed as a golden figure crashed into Vertex from the side, armor sparking against cobblestone as the pair skidded and rolled. They hadn’t come to a stop before Vertex began raining vicious strikes with all four limbs on the pegasus, hooves thudding against flesh until he lifted the stallion’s helmed head and smashed it into the ground.
Vertex was barely on his hooves before a bulky armored earth pony grabbed him from behind, lifting them both off the ground as he tried to get a chokehold. The Killing spun on his hind hooves like a dancer, fore hooves snapping across the guard’s unarmored throat and underside. The earth pony’s eyes widened as he stumbled back and fell, his hooves grasping at his wounds, the one on his belly bleeding red.
A blue, translucent shield sprung up around Vertex as several more pegasi dropped heavily onto the street, spears pointed toward the Killing. Vertex’s expression darkened as he immediately dropped to his front hooves, dug them between the loose cobblestones, and bucked the shield so hard it cracked.
A unicorn running toward them staggered, his horn glowing brighter at the same time as the shield.
“I can’t hold it for long!” he yelled to the others. “I’m going to switch to an anti-teleportation field. Get ready to jump him on my mark!”
The pegasi surrounded the dome, ignoring their fallen brothers even as Vertex ignored them, the cracks in the shield growing as he beat at it like a hammer on an anvil.
The unicorn guard seemed to notice Stasis out of the corner of his eye, his grimace of pain turning to one of anger as sweat and rain dripped from his chin.
“What are you still doing here, boy?” he yelled at the little changeling. “Get out of here! Run! Go!”
Startled out of his shock, Stasis stumbled to his hooves and sprinted away, forcing his burning legs back into motion as he pushed against the rising wind and rain. He heard the shouted commands behind turn into yells and cries of pain before he had even gotten out of sight, but he dared not look back.
It was several blocks until he began to stumble, his legs starting to give out even as he realized that he had instinctively gone back the way he had come, toward Star Swirl’s house. He was naked and alone in the middle of the street, in the middle of a storm, thunder already booming in the distance, rain mixing with blood as it dripped and ran from his tattered, dirty wing.
Stasis’ heart beat heavy in his chest as he imagined his brother popping out of the shadows or from the sky, covered in crimson and with a knife or broken spear in his hooves. He pushed himself on, as fast as he could go without tripping as he tried to keep to the sides of the road, to the shadows, letting the increasing roar of the storm cover up the sound of his footsteps.
He was almost in a daze as phased through the fence into Star Swirl’s yard, his own yard, and crept into the inky blackness of the house’s shadow, where even the moonlight couldn’t reach, before crawling around to the rear of the house. There he finally allowed himself to sink to the ground, his belly squelching into the mud as he began to shiver.
…He lied there for a long time in the wet cold, almost afraid to think, his eyes squeezed shut against whatever might be approaching in the darkness. The storm had reached its full fury, water splashing down from the roof above, lighting flashing through his eyelids as thunder boomed around him.
Finally, finally, when it seemed his brother had either died or lost the trail, Stasis allowed his eyes to peek out into the surrounding black as he thought about his future.
…Even if Vertex was dead, Stasis could never return home again. Vertex’s inexorability was by all accounts merely a shadow of Father’s, and Father had many sons. Mother might even turn the little changeling over to her husband herself. It didn’t matter how much she loved him; Father had made his decision, and the idea of a member of the godsblood turning against his or her spouse was evil, even by Stasis’ standards.
So he had to stay here forever. Alone. Surrounded by ponies who didn’t even know what he was, or that someling was out to kill him. Stasis would one day be much stronger than even Vertex could ever be, except not, because he would be a little body under a little tombstone long before then.
No one would even care. The ponies would all be disgusted that he had tricked them, his siblings would be secretly glad that he was gone, and Mother would spend eternity thinking that it was all her fault.
Stasis began to cry again, though this time it wasn’t out of fear but out of sorrow and pity, pity for his own life which was supposed to be the greatest of any changeling who had ever lived, but now was going to end soon because his stupid father was too stupid to understand how much more powerful he could become by feeding off of the love and knowledge of the inhabitants of this vast dirt-pony town.
He sniffled and tried to wipe the tears from his face, which only made it wetter from the rain. If he stayed with his friends, they would just get hurt too. He could flee to Celestia, who probably thought the best preventative measure for evisceration was immolation. Luna would probably just eat him.
The little changeling laid his cheek against the house. There was only one pony who might know how to protect him from the rest of his kind. But then he would know how much Stasis had lied to him, how he had tricked him, how he had used him. He would know that the pony he thought he loved was actually a monster who had come here to beat and bite and steal.
It would break the old pony’s heart. And as much as Stasis feared his brother, the thought of the wizard cursing him and throwing him out filled the little changeling’s heart with a special kind of terror.
Stasis’ breathing was heavy again as he ground himself against the wall. He couldn’t handle such a thing. He couldn’t handle losing both of the only homes that he had ever known in a single night. It was too much.
He moaned softly into the dripping wall. For the first time in his life he felt like a true monster, a pariah. Everyone who knew him hated him, and everyone who loved him didn’t know him.
Why couldn’t there be just one creature in the world who loved him for who he was? He wasn’t greedy; he loved being hated most of the time. Just one. He couldn’t survive being completely alone; it was too much.
The little changeling put his hooves on the wall, staring at them, studying them as if he had never seen them before. They were beautiful, but the ponies would hate them, just as they would hate him. He was tired of pretending to be other than what he was, and it wasn’t Stasis the pony that needed help anyway. Stasis the changeling was the one who was so afraid; Stasis the changeling was the one who was real.
Fire burned as he pushed through into the house beyond, feeling exhausted as he stepped into the pitch black of one of Star Swirl’s storage rooms. A few minutes of slow, methodical touching got him over and through the junk, and he used what felt like the last of his reserves to phase his way quietly through the wall into the hallway beyond.
He spent some time there, still dripping onto the floor as his darkness-adjusted eyes easily took in the candlelight from the work room at the far end of the house. His mind was almost blank with fear as he began to take slow, trepidatious steps deeper into the light.
When he finally reached the edge of the room, he stopped quietly in the shadows. The old wizard was still a distance away near the door, his hat low on his brow as he paced back and forth with nervous energy, mumbling darkly to himself.
Stasis stayed there in the gloom. He knew he should call out to the old magician, but he did not. He wanted to go away, far away into the Everfree. He wanted to hide under roots and bushes like a timberwolf and never come out.
After a time, Star Swirl finally looked up. He glanced forlornly around the room, his gaze seeming both desperate and random, until he finally settled on the hallway. The faded blue eyes squinted.
“Lad?” he croaked, his voice sounding dry and hoarse. “Is that you?”
Stasis slipped deeper into the darkness. His eyes didn’t leave the pony’s.
Star Swirl licked his lips. “Lad, if that’s you, I want you to come on out now. I’m much too old for games.”
The little changeling stepped silently and quietly backwards. A little farther and he could turn the corner and be gone from sight.
The wizard’s eyes widened and his emotions tasted of sour desperation. “Stasis, please, come out! Don’t be a trick of the light. You wouldn’t leave an old stallion here alone, would you? Please. At least come and say goodbye, lad. Don’t leave an old stallion here alone.”
Stasis shivered there in the darkness, though he was no longer cold. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, but his throat was too tight.
Star Swirl looked away and hung his head. His sides shook.
Stasis felt almost torn, his forelegs inching forward, his hinds behind. It felt like he was forcing the words out of his very lungs.
“I’m here,” he croaked.
Star Swirl looked up, his cheeks and beard already sparkling with moisture. “What? Did – is somepony there?”
“I’m here!” Stasis said, louder. “I’m here, but I think I need to go away now.”
Star Swirl took a step toward him.
“No!” Stasis shouted, retreating again. “Stay back!”
Star Swirl stopped, bewildered. “What? What happened, lad? Why do you need to go?”
Stasis wiped his nose with his hoof. “Because I’m a monster.”
Star Swirl stared at him with a strange expression. After a few moments he said, “No. No, you’re exactly how you’re meant to be.”
“No,” Stasis countered. “I’m a monster. Even other monsters think that I’m a monster. You wouldn’t love me if you knew what I was.”
“I know that you’re a brat,” Star Swirl said, still staring into the darkness. “I know that you’re disobedient, reckless, and deceitful. I know that you bully the other children at school, you drive the adults around you to distraction, and you made that Abra lass burst into tears once or twice like it was a game. I know that you never listen to anypony above you, and you have the oddest notions of morality of any child that I’ve ever seen.”
He tilted his head slightly, his gruff voice somehow becoming gentle. “I also know that you’re brave, and clever, and loyal in your own peculiar way. I know that you don’t let anypony put an idea into your head unless you think it’s a good one, and I know that you’ll never let yourself be bullied or steered into doing something that you don’t think you ought. I know that there’s a will and a desire to do better and be better in you that I don’t think that I’ve ever seen in anypony else, young or old.”
The old pony swallowed, and when he spoke again, his voice almost cracked. “So how can you tell me that I don’t know you, lad? Are you telling me that everything I just said is an illusion? Are you saying that all of that is fake?”
Stasis’ jaw grew tight as his nostrils flared. “But… that doesn’t matter! I’ve been lying to you this entire time!”
Star Swirl snorted. “So what else is new? You’re going to have to do better than that to make me stop loving you, lad.”
“I’m not an orphan!” Stasis cried. “I have parents – too many parents! I have more brothers and sisters and half-brothers and half-sisters than you could possibly imagine!”
“If they want custody of you,” Star Swirl growled, “they can meet me in court. The fact that you’re here tells me all I need to know about their parenting.”
“I’m not a pitiful defenseless pony colt caught in the crossfire, either!” Stasis continued, almost desperate. “I came to Trottingham to hurt ponies. To hurt lots and lots of ponies. I was glad when your buildings were torn down and your neighbors bit!”
“You. Are. A. Child,” Star Swirl almost snarled. “One very mature for his age, aye, but only a fool would blame a little imp like you for doing what he was taught and told. The things I’d say to such a fool aren’t fit for a child to hear.”
“That’s not the worst!” Stasis said, his chest so tight he could barely breathe. “There’s something much worse!”
“Well?” Star Swirl continued, defiant. “Out with it, lad! Make me hate you, if you can!”
Stasis took a step forward, his ears perked and his pose rigid. He took another step, and another step, and another, his sunflower eyes wide with fear as he stared into the opposing blue ones.
He stepped into the light, casting a perforated shadow on the wall.
Star Swirl looked him up and down critically, grumpily. “…Well? I may love you, lad, but you were never much of one to look at.”
Stasis’ tight expression slowly faded into a grimace. “’Well?’ What do you mean, ‘well?’ Turn up the light, you old geezer! I’m a changeling!”
The old geezer huffed irritably. “Is that what this is all about? You kept me up all night for that? Is that what they teach you over there at that theater – how to create drama?”
Stasis stared at Star Swirl. After a few moments, a cry ripped unbidden from his throat as he galloped across the space between them.
The old stallion’s forelegs were surprisingly strong as he swept up the little changeling, almost crushing him to his breast as Stasis began to weep into his shoulder.
“There, there, lad,” Star Swirl said soothingly, awkwardly trying to rub at his chitinous backplate. “You know I still love you – take a great chompin’ bite out of it if you like. It’s alright; you’re safe.”
“But… but… how…?” the little changeling blubbered.
“Come now, lad, I’m not stupid,” Star Swirl gruffed gently. “The first clue was you getting into my house without a knock or key. That’s hardly a trick most six-year-old orphans can pull over on ol’ Star Swirl the Bearded. The second was how you didn’t know diddly about the very country you lived in – I think zebras over in Quagga-land know more about the princesses than you did. And the third was how when I came up to check on you that first night, I saw two little hind hooves sticking out from under those covers, so full of holes I could’ve just about grated cheese on ‘em.”
The old pony paused his ministrations for a moment. “Eh… on second thought, I reckon it really only took the one clue.”
Stasis sniffled. “You’ve known… this entire time?”
Star Swirl sighed as he held the damp little changeling tighter. “Aye, lad. I’m ashamed to admit that that first night, I was so angry with what your people had done to mine that I very nearly dragged you out of bed and tossed you back into the forest to try to find your own way home, or toss you to the guards and let Princess Celestia sort you out. I knew enough about changelings to know what you were – the prince-spawn of the monster that had attacked my home. I’ve never been a violent pony, but when I learned that Goldie’s mother and others had died while I was sitting here cooking you potaters, I was tempted to do worse than toss you out, to hurt your mother in the worst way that I knew how.”
Star Swirl went quiet. After a few moments, the little changeling reached one of his hooves as far around the stallion’s back as he could and began to rub it.
“…But I didn’t do that,” Star Swirl finished hoarsely. “At first I told myself that it was just because I wanted to study you. See what you were made of. When that excuse grew tired, I decided that I was going to try to reform you – make you into a model changeling that could help unite our peoples and bring harmony to the world. That’s when I let the local garrison know about you, told them to keep an eye on you from a distance, make sure you were safe.”
Star Swirl carefully peeled the little changeling from his shoulder and looked down into his eyes.
“But now,” he croaked, “now I just want you here because I’m a selfish old stallion and I’m tired of living in this big old house by myself. I learned so much and I did so much, but I never took Princess Celestia’s advice. I had rivals and colleagues, but never friends; I lost my old family, and I never made a new one. I don’t want to die alone in this big empty house surrounded by the books I read and the papers I wrote. Please, lad; please stay with me a little while longer. It won’t be long by your standards; just a little while. Don’t let me go down in history as the pony who did so much for the world but couldn’t love even a single member of it.”
“…Okay,” Stasis said, blinking away the tears in his own eyes. “I’ll stay a little while. I love you, too.”






FINIS


…For Now