By the time that Starchy had finally returned to the bedroom, only Brucie had managed to stay awake. His tired smile greeted the changeling.
“So how'd it go?”
“It was... Weird.”
Brucie nodded. “What happened?”
“Verdugo was told to kill those ponies.” Starchy sighed. “It felt so weird watching them die for a crime against me that I don't remember...”
“Just because you don't remember it doesn't mean it didn't happen...”
Starchy stuck out his chest. “But there's no sign that it happened. No marks or blood or even pain...”
“We were all there, we saw it. Just because you miraculously healed doesn't he didn't try to kill you.”
“But the act was completely inconsequential!”
Brucie took a step back, intimidated by the vocabulary. “There are always consequences, Starchy. Always.”
But they are not always what we intend.
“What do you mean by that?” Starchy asked his whispering friend.
“It means that every choice we make is going to make an impact somehow... I just wish ours weren't always so fatal.”
If only there was a reason to hold back.
“It really doesn't help that I can't remember it...” Starchy shook his head. “And no one ever seems to care about my amnesia.”
Brucie chuckled. “That's because you were trained ‘in the womb,’ as they say.” He shrugged. “We forget stuff like that all the time. It's always the events that would rattle our sanities, so a lot of us see it as a blessing.”
“Oh... Well, what's the biggest thing you forgot?”
Brucie’s smile faded for a moment. “Well, so I'm told, I was almost killed here in ‘Canterlot’ during the initial invasion.” He chuckled. “As far as I remember, I slept through the attack and barely got to the fight in time to meet Verdugo and her team.”
Whisper the truth and shout the lies.
That whisper wasn't Brucie. Starchy looked around, confused and concerned that they were being watched.
Brucie crooked his head. “What's wrong?”
“Didn't you hear that?”
“Hear what?”
This is a cute moment.
Starchy reluctantly looked toward the empty darkness that the voice seemed to be coming from. Brucie just kept his eyes fixed on him.
He can't hear me, Starchy.
Starchy shook his head. “I guess it was just the wind.”
Brucie smiled. “Yeah, guess so.” He turned from him. “I think it's best to get to sleep before Verdugo gets back; she takes sleeping as a valid excuse when recruiting for those last minute chores the Queen puts her up to.”
Which one is lazier?
Starchy nodded. “Good night.” He went to his bed and tried to reason with the voice in his head.
“Can you hear me?” he thought to himself.
The feeling is mutual.
“Was that a yes?”
I can do a lot more than hear you.
“Who are you?”
I am nothing of consequence.
“That's impossible. Everything has consequences.”
I'm simply a voice. I am the voice of reason and truth in the world of deception. Brucie lied to you; all those trained before birth can hear me. But they choose not to. Will you go deaf as well?
“I'm going to sleep.”
Then I will see you in your dreams.
Starchy's eyes opened wider. He looked up to find two changeling eyes looking back at him.
“You hearing voices?” Dreary asked him.
“Yeah...”
The eyes smiled. “Don't worry about it. Just ignore it and try to get some sleep.”
Starchy wasn't accepting that as an answer. “Why is this happening?”
The eyes had already turned away. “Because of your training. Sometimes a little more than just reflexes and instinct make it in. Just stay focused on what's important and the voice will become irrelevant soon enough.”
Such ignorance. This whole world is filled with it. Except for you, of course.
Starchy got into bed without a word.
Why don't you trust me, Starchy?
The changeling closed his eyes.
Do you think I'm lying?
Starchy relaxed his body.
Tell you what... I'll skip tonight's dream just for you. Hate to worry you with my help... That'd be too ironic for my tastes.
Starchy fell asleep.
Verdugo entered the room shortly after, clutching a piece of paper in the darkness. She looked down at it one last time as the light from the door swung into darkness:
“Do it” was scrawled in that royal hoofwriting, and in the same pen was an upside down goat drawing.
A smile creased her snout as she remembered the look on the guard’s face who had handed it to her. She looked up from the paper to the rest of the room. Everyone was asleep already. She let her smile succumb to the gravity of her exhaustion and fell into her own bed as well.
Surely, their next assignment could survive the night.