• Published 14th May 2012
  • 4,501 Views, 181 Comments

A Change of Heart - ChaoticHarmony

A story about a Changeling

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Odd One Out

Chapter One: The Odd One Out

“But I don’t want to!” he said with a voice that sounded like glass scraping rocks. “I don’t want to hurt her!”

“But my son, you MUST! You will starve if you do not!” His father pushed him back towards the captive, who was trembling with the extreme terror of her situation. As he was shoved closer to the captive little pony, he began crying in earnest, crying for the poor pony in front of him. His father put a hoof over one of his shoulders, “Look son, if you want to be alone when you do this, fine, I will be right outside. Please son, eat for me, for your family.”

After his father had walked out of the door, the child turned to the little pony in front of him, and leaned closer to her. Her eyes began to dilate in terror, as she began to whimper behind her gag. “Listen my little pony; I’m not going to hurt you!” He placed a hoof on her shoulder as reassurance. “I will help you get out of here, but I’ll need for you to be quiet!” Using the sharp edge of his jagged horn, he removed her bonds and gag. His tone carried a sense of urgency, “Listen, we need to leave now, but I need for you to do exactly what I say.” As he said this to her, he was creating a tomb, as was customary of his family after eating. He piled on rocks as black as midnight over a blanket roughly the same color as the pony’s hide. “This will throw them off for a while, but we still need to hurry.” He grabbed the pony’s hoof and led her out of his secret exit of his room.

The unlikely pair headed towards the cliff behind their house, the cliff in which a portal as green as grass, and as unnatural as cotton candy clouds, resided off the edge, ringed by the cliff face that the village was built around. The sounds that came from the portal nearly drowned out all noise as the terrified pony looked towards her companion and asked, in a quiet voice “Who are you?” He thought it was the loveliest thing he had ever heard, more beautiful than the voice of his own mother.

He looked her straight in the eyes, and pushed her over the cliff into the portal. “My name is Needle Wings, and I am not like them.” He heard yelling behind him. He turned to see his whole village converging on him, angry looks marring their faces, contorting them in rage. The mob pushed him closer and closer to the edge of the pit. With a last look towards his father’s face, contorted with rage, Needle Wings screamed and leapt into the abyss, and was surrounded by swirling green light.

Then he knew no more.