Tainted Reflection

by Imperaxum

Refuge

Six miserable hours later, and the lid of the case finally opened. Reflection tumbled out, blinking at the glaring light of a normal handheld candle. An assortment of crumbs and wrappers fell out right after her; Jars had taken to shoving in candy bars through a tiny hole in the ragged case while stumbling around Canterlot.

Said griffon was was standing there with a sheepish look, trying to help her up. She waved him off irritably, glaring as she got to her feet.

"Look, before you-" he started, shut up abruptly by a hoof thrust across his beak.

"Just . . . let me stretch." Reflection hissed, doing just that. Finally feeling less like a statue and more like a living pony, she glanced around the room she'd been taken to; it was bleak and spartan, with stone walls, floor, and ceiling. Rickety crates were piled high all around them, and no windows were in the walls; the only opening was the doorway, the thick oaken door currently swung to the side.

As her vision adjusted from six hours in total blackness, Reflection realized the room was actually rather dark; the flickering light of Jars' lantern hardly reached into the corners of the room. His face was like something out of a horror film, bathed in fading light that illuminated his face well enough, but tapered off with everything else.

"Where are we?" she asked finally.

"Griffon Embassy, Canterlot," he replied, glancing about him, "and in the only room not built by the ponies for us. Our hideout, you might say."

"Yeah, it shows," she observed. "So, uh, thanks?"

He raised an eyebrow. "I know ponies are forgiving and all, but you've shaken off being stuffed in a travelling case for six hours with, uh, unusual speed.."

"Just glad to be alive," she muttered, leaning tiredly on a nearby crate.

Jars nodded. "I've had that feeling plenty before. So, the Equestrians wanted to kill you? I thought I'd never see the day."

She cocked her head. "Huh? I'm not an Equestrian anymore?"

"Well, no. They wouldn't kill one of their own, would they changeling?"

"Changeling?" she said, mouthing the word out. Whatever it was, she had foggy memories of that word, and they were all bad.

"Come on," he said, "you're safe here. Probably. No need to keep up the act."

"I- what?" she said, too confused to indeed keep her act up, though it wasn't exactly the act the griffon thought it was.

He slowly frowned. "You're not a changeling?" His claw started moving to his side; she spotted the candlelight glinting off a wicked-looking war axe.

"N-no," she stammered, "I'm a reflection."

"Yeah, your name's Reflection. Already got that." he growled, fully grasping the weapon now, backing away to give himself room to swing. If it came to that.

"I am a reflection," she corrected, deciding the truth couldn't land her in a worse place than this, stuck in a windowless basement with a suspicious hybrid.

He tilted his head slightly, keeping his grip on the handle of his axe. "Explain."

She tilted her head as well. "You're not going to question that?"

That seemed to snap him out of his tense stance, as he huffed to himself, "What am I doing? A griffon of Eas, almost drawing steel at you. Shameful."

"Thanks?"

"And to answer your question, no. I've seen too many insults to good sense in a single week, one more won't do much," Jars sighed, "More often than not, the crazy things they say happen here, the things I scoffed at back in Eas, turned out to be true."

"Right . . ." Reflection said. She had to phrase her words carefully. "Would you believe me if I said I'm a result of a magical cloning pool?"

Jars blinked. "Yes."

"Really?"

He groaned, releasing his grip on his axe to rub his eye. "Yes. So, not a changeling?"

"I don't think so." she said, shrugging.

"Pity. So, Miss Clone, why'd they want you dead?" he asked, only to receive a fierce glare in response. "Oh, sorry. Poor choice of words, I see."

"Let's not say clone, shall we?" she frowned. "And, I think it's because there used to be hundreds of me."

"Hundreds?" he said, eyes widening a little.

"Hundreds. There more there were, the less control the all seemed to have. Including me. We, uh, started destroying stuff by accident."

". . . how much stuff?"

"I remember a barn. At least. And we terrorized the entire town."

"This is, er, interesting." Jars observed candidly. "Listen, so, why'd we want to keep you around?"

"We?" she asked, "I haven't seen any other griffons here."

"Well," he said a little sheepishly, "there's only ten of us. High King Graesl's not a big fan of Equestria. Most of the others are at an official dinner with those blasted nobles. Aerst's cooking some heartier fare for when they get back; by the claw, we need some halfway-decent cooks here-"

He stopped to stare at Reflection. "Just what are going to do with you? You've still got a lot of explaining to do with the official Ambassador."

"I can cook." she stated. Not that she'd ever personally cooked. It just seemed like something she'd be good at; an inexplicable feeling, yet sure.

He groaned. "I'm sure I'm handling this rather poorly by any diplomat's standards, but . . . sure. Come upstairs with me, and show me your worth. A mirror pool that spits out hundreds of clones? I see potential in that."

As she followed him gratefully out the door, he spoke again. "Oh, and who's Pinkie Pie? I swear I've heard her name somewhere in before . . ."

Author's Note:

Rushed, rushed rushed. Probably very sloppy; haven't have time for anything but a quick glance-over before submission. I'll make up for it with tomorrow's chapter.

Deadline's approaching fast.

Comments

[Twilight_Shimmer]

Hurray for updates! Keep up the great work!

[Razzy]

Yay griffies!

Cya
Raziel-chan

[Greatazuredragon]

"And to answer your question, no. I've seen too many insults to good sense in a single week, one more won't do much," Jars sighed, "More often than not, the crazy things they say happen here, the things I scoffed at back in Eas, turned out to be true."

So only Equestria has weekly craziness happening all around? No wonder Discord wanted to rule back in the past!