Shadow Changeling

by Reaps

The Last Threads

“Hurry up and get that damned muzzle on him. My shift ended a good ten minutes ago.”

A green unicorn fought back as best he could against the guard trying to follow said order. The cuffs on his wrists weren’t exactly making it any easier. “First I can’t get a cup of tea, now you’re gonna muzzle me?”

The guard, finally at the end of his rope, shoved the unicorn back, throwing the killer off just long enough to get him muzzled. “There! Go on Sparks, he’s restrained.”

A muffled protest came from the unicorn, though he made no apparent move to escape. The cart began to levitate before Sparks set off, presumably towards Canterlot, and the now captured serial killer was left alone with his thoughts. Fortunately, his thoughts had plenty to say.

Well, at least you got number forty-five.

Yeah, that counts for something, right?

Yeah, sure. I mean, I got caught, I’m gonna get some kind of death sentence, and I’ve got a snowflake’s chance in Tartarus at getting out of it, but, you know, I satisfied my illness first.

I honestly can’t even tell if that was sarcasm.

Is it bad when the voices in someone’s head can’t tell whether or not their ‘host’ is being sarcastic?

Depends, do you count that as a possible measure of mental condition?

Let’s just say the answer to that is ‘yes’ and see where it goes.

In that case, we are absolutely bat-shit crazy.

Noted. Should we try and see if we can get a psychiatric evaluation when we get to the castle?

Am I the only voice in here pleasantly surprised at the coherency of this discussion? You know, considering we’re basically insane?

No, no, I’m quite surprised by how well my mental stitching is holding, too. I completely forgot how many of you fuckers were up here with me. How long have we even been talking?

Obviously not long enough to get to Canterlot, otherwise we would’ve--

The carriage shook slightly as it came to rest on the ground.

Scratch that. Time apparently flies when you’re talking to yourself.

Watch it, I do not consider even half of you as a part of me.

Suck it up. You’re about to be rid of us all forever, right?

Maybe, but I would have likely preferred it not be through means of execution.

And don’t forget, he may get a life sentence instead, then we’ll just have each other until the day he kicks the bucket.

Oh joy, oh joy.

Anyone else find it weird that it seemed to only take half as long as it should have? It’s almost like we landed near the slums or something.

We’ve also been talking to one another the whole time.

Well, then I suppose either our temporal field shifted or these guards are taking their smoking break before getting us.

The gate at the back of the carriage clicked as two guards opened it and walked in, taking the unicorn by his arms and dragging him out without a word. The unicorn could offer little more than muffled, incomprehensible comments and protests as he was dragged unceremoniously into what seemed to be a very large tree. It was stranger still to see the inside lined with shelves lined with books.

The guards pulled him through a door and down a long staircase, tossing him forward upon reaching the bottom step. He stumbled, rolling on instinct as he hit the ground, and wound up kneeling before the looming figure of Princess Luna.

“I take it you are the killer we have been tracking for years now?”

The unicorn stood, taking a casual stance as he began explaining through the muzzle, his words coming out as muffled, incoherent mumblings, something he was well aware of and purposely continued in spite of.

It took less than a minute for a guard to approach and remove the muzzle. “... but I suppose if you must have an answer, then I would have to assume that, yes, I am the pony you sought. Oh, and thank you for finally removing the muzzle. Any chance I could hear what the point of it was?”

“We are aware of who you are, as well as who your mother was. We were merely taking sensible precautions.”

The unicorn glared for a moment, before sighing. “Well, then, if I may, I would like to submit a complaint about the service here. I offered my last victim tea, even a sandwich. I would have made the stallion a sandwich, but your guards were so rude that, not only did they muzzle me and treat me like some rag doll, but they utterly denied me of my request for tea. Is it really that hard to be polite anymore? I offer my captives something before their inevitable death, assuming they aren’t simply screaming and begging for help the entire time and cutting my generosity short, and I’m the bad guy here?”

Luna’s expression never changed, her eyes unwaveringly locked on his. “We will discuss that later. For now, we have more important matters to--”

“Oh, no! I’m making one thing clear here and now.”

“You dare interrupt us?”

“You’re damned right I do! What do I have to lose? Even if you couldn’t pin the other forty-four charges of murder on me, you have guards that personally witnessed me kill that “Stinger” fellow. You’ve got all you need to give me a death sentence. On top of that, I’ve got a fucking bone to pick with you. It was two weeks, two damn weeks after you returned that my mother was sent on her last mission, that she died on your fucking crusade. To be honest? I’m about livid, and rightfully so.

“You’re going to send me to the moon, put me in a cell for life, or put me under the axe no matter what I do or say here. I’m not getting out of shit by being nice. I like being nice, truly I do, but when I can’t even get a cup of damned tea before you send me off to my death or wherever you intend for me to spend the rest of my days, I lose my patience just a bit.”

“We are sorry for your loss, truly, but if you will only list--”

“Oh, you’re sorry? You’re sorry that I lost my mom on your own orders, only to be thrown into the fray myself at twelve? I wasn’t even in there for serious work. I was given training as basic as it comes and used for fodder. I was an expendable soldier sent out on suicidal missions for whatever taur-shit cause you whimmed. I almost died out there, and you’re sor--”

The room shook as Luna spoke in her Royal Canterlot voice. “Enough. Thou shalt hold thine tongue. Dost thou understand?”

A moment of silence passed before the unicorn recovered from the suddenness of the scene and managed a nod.

Luna nodded and took a deep breath. “Now then, will somepony get him some tea?”

“Black, if it’s no trouble?”

Luna sent a sharp glare at the unicorn, who simply shrugged. “Black tea, then.”

A guard nodded. “Yes, your highness.” The guard then hurried off from the room.

“Now, your tea will be ready soon. Is that ‘hospitable’ enough?”

The unicorn nodded.

“Good. On to what we have been trying to say, then. We do not intend to put you to death. No, we are on the cusp of something great. We are nearly done with the preparations, and now that we have gotten you here, we are at the final step before we may truly begin.”

The unicorn cast a questioning glance, one which Luna was not surprised by in the slightest. “We intend to end the all-too-complacent rule of our sister, Celestia. To do so without an all-out war will require time, planning, and skill. You are the last component we need. We feel you will find it much more palatable than a dungeon, the moon, or the chopping block. Are we wrong?”

The unicorn was quiet for a time before shrugging. “I’m a killer being commanded to kill by a higher power. What’s there to lose, really?” A door opened as the guard from before returned with a tea cup on a saucer. The unicorn smiled and took the saucer in his hands, his horn lighting up as he used his magic to help him take a sip. “Not bad, not bad at all.”

“So, then, you agree to aid us?”

The unicorn stopped for a moment, looking into his tea before looking up to the Princess. “First, tell me something, would you kindly? I’ll trust you not to lie about this, but I need to know: Which of you sent my mother’s team on that mission?”

Luna stared at him for a moment before sighing. “Celestia insisted they go, true, but I was, unfortunately, the one to give the order. Is there anything more?”

The unicorn was silent for a moment, taking a quick sip of his tea before speaking. “No. I will be glad to help. Truth be told, I much more prefer to be out and about than pent up in a cell or on the moon, or dead.”

“Good to know. Star, remove his cuffs.”

One of the guards to bring the unicorn into the room walked over, fishing in her pocket for the key, pausing after a moment. The unicorn cleared his throat. “It’s, uh, it’s in my left glove.”

“What?”

He groaned and managed to work his hands to move the glove up from his wrist before pulling out the key in question and unlocking the cuffs himself. He then dropped the cuffs and key in the now slackjawed guard’s hand. “You guys were never too good at your job, you know. That, and I didn’t get my count just from being lucky.”

The guard slowly nodded before stepping back. “Now, it appears we’ve only one more problem. Of all the things we could find on you, your name was not on that list.”

“That’s very likely because I have not a name to list.”

“Is that so? Interesting. Then I suppose we’ll simply have to give you some form of code name, hmm?” Luna pondered for a moment before nodding to herself. “It’s not clever or particularly fitting, but for now we will refer to you as Spectre. Does this suit you?”

The unicorn shrugged. “I suppose it does. It could be much worse.”

“Good. Then henceforth, you are Spectre, our shadow warrior.” At the far end of the room, another door opened as three mares stepped through, making their way towards Spectre and Luna. “Your timing could not have been better, my little ponies. Spectre, these three will be your teammates. Your squad will have three days to get acquainted before we begin full team training. That is all.”

Spectre simply nodded before turning and taking note of one of the first things he always noticed, the eyes. One pair were orange, possibly appearing golden in the proper lighting, and seemed slightly unnerved; the second were something of a mint green, almost innocent, and strangely welcoming; the last made him stop for a moment; they were purple, comparable to amethyst, but what he found so striking was how pleasantly empty they were, as though all light had left, but happiness somehow managed to remain.

The mare with the empty eyes smiled. “So, Spectre, huh? It’s nice to meet you. My name’s Scootaloo.”

Author's Note:

If you don't get the title, just wait and keep a look out. I like to tie things together.

Comments

[wille179]

My suggestion is this: After you write a chapter, save it. Put the device down. Go to bed. Wake up. Edit the chapter. Go do something else. Come back and edit again. Then post on fimfiction.

If you give yourself time to forget what exactly you wrote, you will be able to edit more effectively. It works for me.

[Reaps]

3840771 Both chapters in this story sat for at least three days of my own scrutiny. I asked for help to be safe. Fresh eyes are the most likely to catch something out of place, the first to ask questions. I'll keep that in mind, though. Thanks.

[Discord Kantus]

Once again, what the hell kind of ending was that?

[Reaps]

4156874 The kind that explains a few things and leads up to what is to come, mayhaps?

[Discord Kantus]

4157116 But the story's complete.

[Reaps]

4157612 Aye. That it is. But the series is not.