Refined Starlight in a Broken Vessel

by the-pieman

Chapter 26

The stallion readjusts himself to be even more solid and imposing, something I didn’t think was possible. “That was not a request. Relinquish control of the artifact, it is not yours.”

I scoff, holding the harp over his head above his reach. “It is now. What, you want it?” I summon some coal from my pouch and have it form a clamp around his muzzle.

For a moment, it holds. Then, he snorts, and the coal dissipates, completely gone. How the-? He’s not even a unicorn!

“Relinquish. The artifact.” He glares at me.

I fold my arms and glare at him. “I don’t think you want to fight me. Bystanders could get hurt, so just run along and take your business elsewhere, asshole.”

“I am not here to fight. I am here to collect the artifact, then return it. Those are my orders.”

“Return it to who? Why don’t I just talk to them?”

“Because Lyra is in trouble, and is not allowed to leave her place. She should not have given the Lyre to you in the first place.”

“We all make mistakes, dude. Finders keepers.”

“You did not merely ‘find’ it, any more than you find the sun in the morning. Now give me the artifact.”

“So Lyra can be saved right? Well, why not I help her, and I keep the Lyre?”

“She is in trouble because she gave you the Lyre. She does not need rescuing, she needs to learn to do what she is directed by Natoque.”

“So she wants to do what she wants, big deal. How about I give it to her, personally? Supposedly, this artifact is incredibly powerful, and I’m not about to trust it with a middleman.”

The stallion snorts angrily. “No. Relinquish it to me at once!” his voice rises, but I’m not very impressed. The demon had way more impressive pipes.

Pinkie hops over, and looks between us. “Hello! Who wants hors d'oeuvres?” A platter of small pieces of cheese, coated in chocolate and speared with a toothpick, sat on the plate.

“Ooh, awesome!” I grab one and pop it into my mouth. I wince at the taste, the first time with Pinkie’s creations. It tastes like stale gouda and overly-sweet milk chocolate. I turn to Pinkie. “So, uh, who’s catering?” At this point I’m not even paying the stallion any mind.

“Uh, I am! Right? Yeah! I’m catering! I got the recipe right, right?”

“Not bad, but just a bit more practice, I’m sure this is a bit different than cupcakes, so you’re allowed a bit of room for error.” I ruffle her mane and return to the stallion. “Are you still here? I don’t care who you are, because I don’t know who you are. How do I know you aren’t gonna steal the Lyre for yourself? How about some proof?”

He leans towards me, lengthening the shadows on his face in what I assume would be an intimidating manner if he wasn’t a good foot and a half shorter than me. “I have no need for the Lyre. That is Lyra’s tool, and I would not be able to utilize it with her degree of finesse. Now, give it to me, that I may return it to her.”

“You think I was born yesterday? I’ve heard just about every lie in the book and then some, I’m not gonna believe anyone I don’t know, especially ones who demand powerful mystical artifacts, claiming to know the owner. If you really wanted her to have it back, take me to her and I’ll give it back to her.”

“She has been derelict of her duties for fifteen nights! She must return to them, and for that she needs the Lyre!”

“Prove it, Captain Starched-Panties.”

The large stallion opens his mouth to say something, but stops when a hoof, blue-green and feminine, pats him on the shoulder.

“Stand down, Galeam, if he’s been this resistant to just handing it over, he won’t go giving it to just anyone.” I look at the new speaker, who is a rather smallish unicorn mare, reddish mane and a cutie-mark of a set of simple scales, one side overflowing with gold, the other with nothing but black smoke.

“I should think not. Seriously, I’m not a moron. Unless I know for sure that Lyra is going to be getting this, I’m not giving it up. Period.”

The mare nods, a pleasant smile on her face. “Alright. We will entrust the Lyre unto you, provided you promise not to allow any but Lyra to take it from you.” Her smile fell, and the room seemed to grow slightly darker. “But take care, this includes ‘lending’ the Lyre to anyone, be they pony or otherwise.”

“Do I look like I’m stupid? I’m not going to give this thing up, especially given the build-up you’ve been giving to how important it is. I may be reckless, but I know when something needs to be taken seriously.”

The mare nodded, and charged her horn, an aura the deep blue of late night or early morning issuing forth. A piece of parchment, glimmering with tiny sparkles of light, issued forth from the aura. Written on the parchment was legalese for ‘don’t lend, give, or throw away the Lyre’, and detailing several gruesome fates for me if I did any of those things, including...

“Denyxtification? What’s that?”

“To be stripped of your star core, and become one with the void.” The stallion says, face stony-blank once more.

“Ooooookay then. And how did I get this core in the first place?”

The mare shrugs, offering up a quill with which to sign.

“Well, I guess I’ll sign, since none of these threats will apply. I’m not letting something like this out of my sight. It’s a killer at parties.” I sign my name, my real name, figuring if Lyra knew, it wouldn’t matter to hide it. “Speaking of parties, I should be getting back to mine, and I promised a mare I would dance with her.”

The unicorn nodded, her smile pleasant again. “Then I shall sign this, and you may be on your way.” She placed her hoof on the parchment next to mine. She pulled her hoof back, and an inky-black hole into the night sky shimmered on the paper. Faint lines connected a series of stars in the shape of her cutie mark.

I give a wave and figure I might as well give a hint that were both on a first-name basis since at this point I can figure out her handle. “Alright, cya later Libra. And tell your friend to pull the stick out of his butt.”

The mare chuckled. “We’ve been trying for centuries, and it just seems to get lodged farther in there.” The stallion’s blank look tipped downward at the edges, turning into an almost-frown.

I walk off to let them do their thing, shaking my head as I go. I did promise that mare a dance, so I decide to look for her through the large crowd. As I step near the dance floor, the mare practically materializes, and I see that Pinkie has pushed her up to me, smiling and grinning as she fades back into the crowd. The young mare grins bashfully.

“Aw, come on. You should feel proud, you have the guts to ask the local alien to dance.” The mare nods, her smile still a little shaky, as she leads me to the dance floor. On the floor, it’s mostly packed with ponies doing fairly typical ‘this area is is super crowded’ dances. There’s only a single open space, and that’s where Twilight is getting her groove on. Or having a seizure-slash-aneurysm-slash-heart attack; it’s a bit hard to tell with that facial expression she has.

“Heh, and she calls me strange. Anyway...” I turn to the mare at my side. “I honestly have no idea how to do this with a pony, so it’s probably gonna be a bit weird, but I’ll try.”

The young mare nods, and opens her mouth to say something, when the music changes. I look towards the stage to see Octavia, of all ponies, standing on a raised part of the stage. She’s holding up an absolutely massive contrabass, at least as tall as she is, standing on her rear hooves. While she’s as impeccably groomed as normal, the contrabass is completely different than expected, with tron lines outlining it and each string lit up a dull white.

Seriously, these ponies have the coolest instruments! If it weren’t for the starfield shadows on my harp and it’s musical capabilities, I’d feel gypped. I wait for Octavia to begin and mutter to myself. “Come on ‘Tavi, let’s see what you got.”

The song starts off a little slow, but quickly builds, and a sense of unadulterated joy flows from the strings. A piano in the back is hooked up to amps to let the entire club hear it and the cello, as Octavia gives her all into the rising music. She even tosses the bow every few moments to tap out a beat, catching the bow and resuming without any interruptions.

All the ponies seem to be dancing differently, each choosing their own way to move on the dancefloor.

I turn to the mare beside me. “Shall we?” I indicate that she should lead, as I don’t understand how this would work.

She just giggles and starts... moving. For a moment I’m lost, before it hits me: just move. This is not a formal dance, so... I just start moving to the music, letting the rhythm just do whatever it wants with me.

Laughing along with the ponies, I barely notice when the music changes, just slowing with the beat like everypony else. For several minutes, I’m just another happy person in a crowd of dozens.

This isn’t like the rave in Canterlot, and definitely not like a concert back home, but... I like this just as much. I feel like I belong here, even if I’m the most different. Life is good.

Finally, the music comes to an end, and every pony and myself in the place all stomp and clap and generally give the applause the artists on stage deserve, Octavia giving a formal bow while Vinyl throws her hooves up like the reigning champion of an arena.

I think of something, then I grin. I turn to the mare and excuse myself. I walk up to the stage and ask Octavia if I can do a slow song as well.

She nods, and Vinyl quickly folds up the temporary stand. I wave Octavia back on as she gets ready to leave, and she smiles. The crowd cheers at me as I return to the front of the stage, the last song apparently forgiven for the most part.

“Alright. This is going to be a very... different song. Just to let you know us humans aren’t all a bunch of metalheads... well, all the time. This is a love song, by the way.” I Spark up and strum the Lyre gently, not bothering to introduce the song this time.

The notes flow out, the soft sounds of a guitar being followed by all sorts of instruments. I sing the song, gently crooning into the mic in front of me. The entire place is enraptured, listening to the notes pouring forth from my fingers, lungs and soul. Octavia is strumming the bass like a giant guitar, and Vinyl is bobbing her head as she provides various snippets to fake at least two other instruments, including the drums.

The song begins to wind down, the final chords being plucked one at a time, before revealing that the song’s not over yet. Playing like my hands are on fire, I barely notice that the starfield effect has crept up my arms from the harp again, all the way to my chest and probably my face, too. The backlighting meant I probably looked like a hole of night pouring out the music the ponies are bouncing to.

Finally, the song came to its actual end, fading out. I let my Spark fade, taking the starfield with it. Once more, I’m breathless and kind of sweaty from the hot stage lights, but it’s such a rush!

The ponies below stomp their approval, shouting and hollering. It takes a moment before the smattering of individuals organize enough to start the crowd chanting a single word.

“En-core! En-core! En-core! En-core!”

I grin and respond. “Well, that depends. Do you want the same song, or a similar one?”

“New song! New song!”

“Alright, let me think...” I take a few moments to think of a nice smooth song, but with a good beat anyway... I grin lightly. “This is going to be a bit different, but I think you’ll like it. This one is called Victorian Vigilante. Just to warn you, it’s a little dark near the end.”

I begin to stroke the strings of the Lyre again, and a jaunty tune begins to pour out, all brass and the gentle piping of an organ grinder. Once more, my Sparked arms become coated in night, and the music flows out through me, and the ponies are all listening to the story of the song, and I can almost feel their silent prayers that the unnamed hero takes out the villain, hanging on every word like I was some kind of prophet or radio star.

I come near the conclusion, and I hear their quieted gasps as the villain seems to get the upper hand... only to lose the fight, and his life. I see a few of the more squeamish ponies blanch at the mention of bloodshed, but most of the earth ponies and pegasi are nodding along and smiling as the song finishes.

Once more, the crowd erupts with applause, and I have to decline another request for an encore. After all, I said I’d go play a few games with Pinkie... I think I did at least. Either way, they sound fun, and I don’t want to miss a good chance to enjoy the party as a whole.

I look around for Pinkie and I’m surprised how such an energetic, brightly colored mare can just hide in a crowd like this. Guess she’s just got a talent for it. Wait... she does. Duh.

Shaking my head, I get ready to find Pinkie, when, lo and behold, I see her wandering through the crowd, grinning happily and holding aloft a platter of hors d'oeuvres and drinks again. “Heya Anthony! Great songs, d’ya want some hors d’oeuvres?” I look at the platter, seeing strawberries dipped in chocolate. Much better than stale gouda. I snag one, and ask if she’d like to go play some of the games like she suggested. For a moment, I could swear she looked surprised, but then she points towards one side of the large room.

“I’ll be over there in a moment, why don’t you go and play a few games ‘till I’m there?” she suggests.

“Sure, take your time. It must be difficult hosting a party this big all by yourself.” I pat her on the head. “Just don’t exhaust yourself.” With that, I head off to find the games area. Seriously, what sorts of games do they have?

I meander through the crowd, moving with the flows, and I get to the games eager to play. To my surprise, Pinkie has beaten me here! I knew she’s fast, but I didn’t know she’s that fast. She could probably give Rainbow Dash a run for her money. I step forward and check out the games.

Pinkie appears to be playing a cake walk, piles of treats and goodies in numbered spots corresponding to spots on the floor up for grabs, a line of happy foals are going around the ring, hoping to get the best prizes for themselves.

The next station over is a game of musical chairs, which has narrowed down to a fierce competition between Rainbow Dash and... Dinky? Dang, you go filly! The two competitors are glaring at each other as they pace around the chair, the bouncy polka repetitive enough to fool the senses if you didn’t pay attention.

The silly, happy music made their glaring eyes seem absolutely ridiculous. I probably shouldn’t interfere, but I soooo want to.

The next one is a classic: pin the tail on the... pony? Okay, it’s a pony picture, instead of a donkey, and appears to be a picture of Pinkie herself, and the sheer number of foals and adults clustered around it appears to indicate it’s a ‘serious’ game around here.

Well, I suppose if it’s played similarly, it’s just as much a game of coordination as many games.

A small mountain of board games go untouched in the next area over, save for three pairs of ponies each playing a game of what looks like chess. However, the pieces are different looking, and move a little differently, I think.

I decide that Pin the Tail would be very odd for me, given my height and all, so that’s out. I decide I might as well give the cakewalk a try, maybe do some musical chairs once Dash and Dinky are done.

I step over to the cakewalk, and am a little surprised to see that Pinkie has dropped out, and that the ring of foals is two deep, and I can’t even get close. The glares here are turning feral, and I even see a couple of foals glaring at adults that get too close to the game. Those must be some epic foods on the prize table.

The foals don’t seem to mind me, and I even find myself being pushed towards the front of the line. Once one of the foals is out, I feel a little head push me into the cakewalk. Almost immediately, the foals take note of me, and I feel the weight of a bajillion tons of hero worship descend upon me. The foals look hungry, and I see them reaching for paper and other autographing supplies with giant grins. What is it with ponies and teeny cute things becoming terrifying?

Well, I guess it’s part of being a world-renowned savior of the people. I resign myself to my fate of adoration and appreciation. But I do clarify that they’ll all get a turn if they stay in single file and go one at a time. Once all the fillies and colts are lined up, I begin my signing. I don’t bother asking who I’m signing for, because then I’d feel compelled to remember all their names, and I just know that’d give me a headache.

I finish the first round of autographs when the cakewalk starts. Right before, however, I see one of the foals get pulled into the crowd, only to be replaced by a strutting Scootaloo. Damn, she’s sneaky. If I hadn’t been looking back to make sure there was no open spaces, I wouldn’t have seen it. Maybe she’s trying to get a ninja cutie-mark? What would that look like? Would it look like anything at all? Why am I think of these things instead of paying attention to the cakewalk? I wonder what it’d be like if I didn’t have a bellybutton... Goddamn my brain.

Either way, though, the cakewalk is going well. The only problem is that a minor shoving problem has begun to arise every time Scootaloo is almost to the ‘grand prize’ spot. I check out what’s in the prize spot for the number, and see a plain metal bowl full of wrapped candy. Each of them is a little ball, with a yellow wrapper with pink twists. Nothing really impressive, is it?

Either way, though, Scootaloo keeps shoving to get there, and then refusing to move until she has to. She’s being particularly rude tonight, and I want to know why. I’m almost willing to drop out, grab her by the scruff of her neck - ponies have scruffs, right? - and demand an answer, if it weren’t for the fact that an adult will likely intervene soon enough.

Wait... all the adults but me are being pushed away from the cakewalk. Crap. I shrug and walk over. Guess I have to be ‘Dad’ for a minute. I pick up Scootaloo, my hands fitting easily around her small barrel. Once I’m holding her a good meter off the ground, I take her to a more open area. “What the hell Scoots!? You hit your head or something?”

She looks at me, her eyes gone big and watery. “N- no...” I practically feel her trying to pull a turtle and tuck her head into her collarbone. I sigh. “What was that all about? It’s just a party game. Nobody cares who wins!”

“B- but I-” She looks like she’s about to cry. What, was she bullied into getting the candy or something? Do ponies build up gambling debts or something at this age? I can’t think of any reason she’d act like this. It’s just mean.

“Seriously Scoots. You know for a fact I hate bullies. I want to like you, you’re nice and all, but I don’t want to be friends with a bully, so just chill out, okay?”

“I- I’m not a- a bully...” her ears go down and her little wings are stuck to her sides like they’re glued there.

I scoff. “You sure act like it, the way you were shoving those other kids around just to win some stupid candy.”

“I just... I wanted to...” she trails off, looking embarrassed and disappointed all in one. “I just wanted to get the candy ‘cuz I- I wanted to... give it to you...”

I think I’m starting to get it. She wants to be my number one fan or something. “Scootaloo, I don’t need candy to appreciate someone. Just be yourself... as long as that doesn’t involve being a total jerk. We’re here to have fun, not win at any cost.” I take a breath. “Winning is fun and all, but how fun is it really when everyone hates you for winning?”

Scootaloo shakes her head sadly, and she still looks a half step from bawling her eyes out.

“Listen, I don’t hate you. I want to be your friend, but I just can’t be friends with a jerk. Just follow the golden rule and I’ll appreciate you more than if you’re a bully who wants to give me stuff.”

“W- what’s the ‘golden rule’?” That really catches me off guard. Shouldn’t, in a society like this, that be encouraged and taught even more?

“The golden rule is to treat other ponies the way you want them to treat you. If you want to be treated with kindness and compassion, you do it first.”

“Oh... okay. I- I’m sorry.” She looks up at me with her eyes pleading. As well, she’s all puffed up again. Pretty sure it’s a pegasus thing, the other ponies don’t do this.

“Well, since I’m such a fantastic guy, I’ll give you another chance, alright?” I give her a hug, and try and see if I can pat down the poofiness. It honestly looks totally silly.

She closes her eyes and leans into the pats, but the poofy isn’t going away. Drat. Still, I think I’m done with the cakewalk for now, and it looks as though Pinkie has moved over to the board games area, and is pulling out some games. Maybe she’s got a board game me and Scootaloo can play. If she was so desperate to get ‘first place’ to show off to me, maybe she’ll like an actual competition better.

I want to see if they have Othello or Mancala... Haven’t played those in a while. I carry Scootaloo over to the board game area. “But if you want a challenge and to impress me, how about you try beating me in something aside from beating everyone else?”

Scootaloo nods her head fast enough to make me think it might come loose. I chuckle and step over the foals and through the partying ponies to the board games area. Pinkie appears to have pulled a version of ‘Candyland’ or something, though the board looks a little weird.

“Anthony!” Pinkie’s expression brightens up as I step up. “It’s so good to see you, are you enjoying the party?”

Oooookay, she’s definitely off today. “Yeah, of course I am, I still am. I don’t think it’d change much after the other three times you asked me.” Something is strange here, more than her just being Pinkie, but I can’t quite place it...

“I asked you thrice already? Oopsie-daisy! Sorry about that, it’s such a super-big funtastic party.” She pauses to think a moment. “Ooh, d’you wanna play Wunderland? It’s super cool!”

“Well, sure. Might be interesting. Can’t wait for when we go in a few months, I suppose?”

“Indeedly-do! I get to see Granny Pie again!” She squees and hugs herself, looking utterly delighted. “It’s been so long, I’m sure she’ll be delighted to see me, too.”

After a moment of watching the poofy pink party pony rock happily, I remind her of the game.

“Oh, right! Well, this is the first board, but we don’t need the second until we’ve either slain a Jabberwock or been disemvoweled by a Leery Vundermunch. Then, we’ll go to the second board and try to gringle some hobwatches, and escape the Queen in Red. And best of all, it’s a game where we all work together if we want!” Pinkie beams happily around the table, in spite of half the words refusing to settle into my brain.

“Well, I think first, Scoots and I would like a little one-on-one competition. You got Othello?”

“Never heard of it! I’ve got a copy of Marenopoly though. We could play three players on that!”

Deciding that there’s not many other options for games I would most likely already understand the rules, I go for that, ignoring the pun. At some point, I’ll have to figure out what the pony-named equivalents of some of my favorites are.

“Alright, each of the sections are based on a street from Old Canterlot, before it was expanded to more than just the palace and the nearby houses.” Pinkie explained, Scootaloo rolling her eyes. I don’t know this, though, so it’s good to know - also, the board seems to be circular; not rectangular. Interesting.

Pinkie continues to point out little things that build up to some fairly major differences in how the board is set up, but the rules sound about the same. There’s only two train stations, and they’re used to go between them if you land there, not as properties. The jail is a different section of the board, with a bunch of penalties to leave it, instead of the ‘roll a double’ rule, making it a more grueling challenge to leave the ‘dungeons’. Also, cheating is apparently supported by the rules, and all the fake money slips are purposefully left blank on the backs so you can double deal and pretend to pay more or less for something. It’s a surprisingly complex twist on an otherwise fairly simple game. The cheating aspect especially, you’d expect it to be much more harshly dealt with here in magical, happy, ponyland. When I bring this up, Pinkie responds that it’s not only perfectly mimicking common Unicorn noble tactics and business pretty well, but that getting caught by any third party with actual evidence is how you get to the dungeons in the first place.

Shaking my head, I sigh and get ready to play the game. I have an idea, rather than picking my own piece from the set, I pull out some coal and make a little human figurine and use that instead. After a little compacting, it’s just as solid as the tiny chariot and the little unicorn figures that came with the game, Scoots using the former and Pinkie the latter.

Pinkie looks closely at it. “Ooh! It’s a little human! Wow, you got the details perfect! Oh, now we need to roll to see who goes first, and how far they go!” She pulls out a set of eight six-sided dice. Two of them go to me, two to Scoots, and two for herself, the others going back in the box.

---

After an hour of vigorous politics, low deals and careful sabotage of all opponents, Scootaloo stands triumphant as the victor, having managed to get both me and Pinkie indicted and thrown permanently into the dungeons and stripped of our money. My brain is still a little rattled by how vicious that little filly can be.

I lean back and look at the board, covered in ownership markers in Scootaloo’s House Colors. Damn.

“So... I have another game, Othello. At least, that’s what I call it. Hmm...” I think of how to demonstrate. “Hey Pinkie, got a piece of paper?”

Pinkie nods, reaching into her mane with a look of concentration, finally pulling out a piece of lined paper and a Bic ballpoint pen. “Huh? How’d those get in there?” Pinkie looks down at the materials with an expression of confusion, stuffing them back into her mane. I stare dumbstruck at her as she pulls out, instead, a normal piece of parchment and a quill and stoppered inkpot.

“Uh... huh. Well, I don’t want to waste ink, so I’ll just do this...” I pull out the rest of my coal and do my little coal writing trick. I use the ink to make a square board with a bunch of smaller squares, then I use coal in pucks or rings, indicating white pieces and black pieces.

“So what you do is you place your pieces and when you surround some pieces of another color with yours on either end of the line...” I demonstrate by moving the pucks and rings, setting them up. “And when you do-”

“Ooh!” Pinkie interrupts. “I know this game, it’s called Gryphon Chess!” she leans over backwards in her chair - are her bones rubber? - and sits back up with a box showing an Othello board with the name ‘Gryphon Chess’ on the front, the tagline stating that it’s ‘a game of careful strategy and hard tactics!’

“Yep, that’s what we call Othello.” I turn to Scoots. “So what do ya think? Double-or-Nothing on Gryphon Chess?”

Scootaloo smiles and nods. “Yeah! I think we’re a good match!” She’s going poofy again. Jeez, does she have an allergic reaction to her shampoo or something?

“Alright, pick your color, and let’s start!”

She picks white, taking the first-turn advantage. The two of us go back and forth, taking and ceding lines of battle. She’s the first to take a corner, but I snag two of the others before she can properly counter. Finally, she takes the other corner, but it’s too late. A grinding battle of attrition leads to me winning, a scant three pieces more than her.

“Well played, Scootaloo. I’m impressed, that’s a good job for your first time.” I grin and ruffle her mane. “See? You don’t have to win, it’s all about how well you play the game.”

Once again, Scootaloo does her koosh-ball impression. Seriously, I’m beginning to worry about this kid. At least she acts perfectly healthy...

Chuckling at the thought, I sit back. I’ve spent around an hour and a half on the games, and I kind of want to stretch my legs again, possibly out on the dance floor. I’ve got an idea for a good song to end on, but I want to mull that over, and moving helps me think. I leave Pinkie playing another game of ‘Gryphon Chess’ with Scootaloo.

I walk out onto the floor, and I notice that Octavia and Vinyl are doing a sort of duet. Odd, given their playstyles being so different, but it’s not bad at all, classical and techno going pretty well together surprisingly. I just start dancing a bit. Not going crazy, just feeling the music go through my mind. Looking around at the other partygoers, I see that it’s pretty much unanimous. Music is strange, but very well done. I wonder, do they practice this often?

I see Pinkie hop through the crowd, passing out still more hors d’oeuvres. Wait, if Pinkie’s there, did she stop playing with Scootaloo? I turn to look over the crowd, thanking my relative height as I do. No, she’s playing a game with Scootaloo, who is staring at the game with a serious expression. I turn back to the serving pony, who can’t be Pinkie. Except...

The first word in my head is ‘Changeling’ and I feel my eye twitch. Stay calm for now. I walk up to the serving Pinkie. “Hey Pinkie, could I borrow you for a moment?”

“Sure, Anthony! Lemme just get this settled.” She tucked the now-empty platter onto her back, and trotted beside me as I led her towards the game area.

I figured I should do something before this Pinkie caught on, so I had to do it fast. Luckily, that’s one of my specialties. I grab the Pinkie beside me by the tail, and, pulling her with me, I do the same to the Pinkie playing with Scootaloo. I hold both of them up so they are upside-down looking me in the eyes. “Explanation. Now. And make it good!”

To emphasize further, I enter my Heat form and ignite every part of my body except for my hands. I imagine tails are rather flammable, and I don’t want to roast the real Pinkie. “Well?” I demand.

The one that had been serving covers her eyes with her hooves, visibly frightened. The other Pinkie, on the other hand, looks worried. “Wait, Anthony, I hired them!”

“Yeah, sure. How about some proof?”

She curls up, somehow using her tail to do so. She puts both hooves on my shoulder and whispers in my ear, “Because I know that you’re happier if I’m just your friend.”

She drops back down, hanging from my grip. With a sigh, I set her down on the ground, as well as the Changeling, but I’m still not letting it go that easily. “I thought you agreed not to do any more shapeshifting or I’d kill you all. Was I not clear?”

“W-what?” The changeling is so startled, she drops her disguise, revealing a changeling. But not like the ones I’d seen in the hive. For one, this one is emaciated, thin enough I can count all eight ribs on the one side of it facing towards me. As well, it’s got a brittle, red-orange shell instead of green.

“Oh come on, I know I met one of you around the Everfree, and I warned your little scout that if I found any Changelings around, I’d burn your hive to the ground!”

“B-but I‘m not an Everfree changeling! How would I hear about this?” It’s curled up on the ground, hooves held defensively over its chest.

I sigh again. “Fine, let’s hear your story, but if I find out you lied or bent the truth even a little, your people are gonna end up missing a few thousand numbers.”

The changeling nodded. “I- I’m just a harvester of a traveling cluster. There’s eight of us, and six of us were hired by the Element of Laughter to help with the party. It’s what changelings do to survive. I just want my nymphs to be healthy.”

“Last I was aware, changelings infiltrated towns, and posed as other ponies, draining the love out of their loved ones. Actually, I know this for a fact from first-hand experience.” I give the orange-black insect at my feet a hard glare, my flames not dying for a second.

“B-but what kind of morons would ruin things so badly? We may not announce ourselves, but we replace our clients so they can have more free time! I swear, we’ve never taken anyone without their express permission.” It looks up at me, its orangey eyes flat and emotionless like all changeling eyes.

I decide to give it one more test. I pick it up by it’s throat, and stare at it’s pupiless eyes with the bright specks of light that replace mine. I then increase my heat until I can see heat waves coming off of my hand, even if they aren’t flaming. Then I speak with my Spark, holding it close enough I could hear it’s ragged breathing.

<ARE YOU LYING?>

“N-no! Please let me live!”

“Alright, fine.” I Power down completely and set the changeling back on the ground. It massages its throat warily.

“Now, Pinkie, we’re going to have a little talk.” I turn to the crowd, now all staring at me. “Party’s over. Go home.”

My next plan of action is to get everyone together, specifically the Elements, the Princesses, and these orange changelings, for a discussion. I relay this to the changeling, Pinkie, and Twilight, who has made her way towards us.

“So, how soon can we set up this meeting?”

Twilight looks around, the building almost completely empty and six rail-thin changelings with orangey carapaces standing or sitting nearby. Another pony walks towards us, and for a moment I’m ready to ask what she wants. Then, in a burst of muddy orange fire, she turns into a changeling. The filly who steps out from behind her does the same, but into a smaller, slightly less starved-looking changeling. I recognized them, though, before they changed back. It’s the mother and child from earlier, and the foal that had asked for a hug.

“So. Back to my question. Assuming that this is every Changeling who participated?”

The changelings nodded, except for the little one who was just sitting on the floor and staring at me.

“Alright. So, we’ll get a letter sent to the princesses, and we’ll all have a little discussion. Frankly, part of me wants to burn you all alive right now... but I’m not gonna.”

The changelings all look relieved at this, again, minus the little one. It’s still just staring at me.

“And what do you want, uh... I don’t know what to call you. Filly? Kid? Rugrat?”

The little one stares at me, but one of the adults answers. “Uh, young changelings are ‘nymphs’.”

“Okay, well what do you want... nymph?”

The nymph keeps staring at me for a few more moments, before answering slowly. “Can I have a hug?”

“Now why would I do that? You managed to get one already, and that’s because I didn’t know you were just using me as a food source. Seriously, I’m more pissed at you than any of the others!”

The nymph’s expression falls, and the little thing begins to cry, bawling on the floor. The ‘mother’ glares hard at me and begins trying to console the little leech.

“That’s exactly what Chrysalis tried, to screw with my mind, make me into a living battery until I wasn’t useful anymore. That’s why I squashed her. I’m not food, for anyone.”

Twilight and Pinkie’s jaws are nearly touching the floor, and the changelings all stared at me, minus the nymph, who was still crying. One of them spoke up. “Y- you slew the tyrant queen?”

“Yes. Yes I did. And I don’t want to see any other changelings around. I know exactly what they do. That’s why I don’t trust changelings, since I was abducted by them.”

The changelings appear to have stopped paying attention once I’d confirmed the kill. They begin to speak amongst themselves. It’s mildly annoying, getting ignored. That said, Pinkie and Twilight are looking up at me with looks of shock on their faces, and worry, and pity.

“There will be time to talk amongst yourselves and explain things once we’re all together. Now, let’s go. And I want a separate train car for the changelings and myself. If they try anything they will not be getting off the train...”

Twilight clears her throat. “Actually, I had Spike send a letter to Princess Celestia as soon as things started happening. She should be coming here, and probably Princess Luna, as well.”

As if to confirm the statement, a large ball of purest white flashes into existence in the middle of the room, near the dance floor. The orb resolves into the shapes of Celestia and Luna, each in full regalia.

Celestia speaks, her voice commanding and her expression dark. “Tell me what is going on. Now.”

We’ve taken out some tables and lined them up to form a makeshift conference table. The seven Changelings and the nymph on one side facing the Elements, Spike and I on the other. The princesses are on opposite ends of the table facing each other. I guess it’s supposed to be a way of silently stating that they have no bias.

“I still think we should kill them now and get it over with.” I begin with my bare-bones ‘argument’.

Celestia responds before any of the changelings can. “Why do you think that? What could we gain from doing such a thing?”

I scoff. “You have to ask? They’re dangerous! They’re an infection!” both princesses quirk an eyebrow at me. Guess I have to clarify. “Seriously, even if they’ve done nothing wrong yet, doesn’t mean they don’t have the potential to do so. If we kill them, then the problem is over and we don’t even need to have this discussion in the first place.”

“That’s barbaric!” Rarity shouts in disgust.

I shout back. “It’s a solution! All we do is get rid of them for good and that ensures that there’s no chance of them causing trouble. Or we could just let them go and hope we can trust them.”

Twilight stands up to protest. “Th- that’s not fair!”

“Fair? Fair? You think what they did to me was fair!?”

“We don’t even know what happened to you! Besides, that was a different hive, right?”

The changelings nod quickly.

“Bullshit!” I yell. “A changeling is a changeling! They’re about as trustworthy as thieving rats.”

“That’s very human of you, Anthony.” Those words and Twilight’s cold tone caught me off guard.

“What? Of course-”

“But not what you say you are. You say you aren’t like the humans you described, but here you are acting like the unforgiving warmongers you say you aren’t.”

“That’s different!”

“Is it? You say that these changelings should be killed just because of what they are! You see violence as the first and best solution!”

“Death doesn’t have to be violent, you know.”

“And now you’re defending your actions, as if killing a sentient being is perfectly acceptable!”

“It is if doing so makes the world a better place!” At this point, Applejack and Rainbow Dash are holding back Twilight and I. “Settle down there, partner. Just give them a chance.”

“He won’t, because he’s a human!” Twilight yelled, struggling against Rainbow Dash who was holding her by the tail to keep her seated.

“You think that’s why? Well how about I tell you what they did!” I push Applejack’s hooves away. She’s strong, but doesn’t have the weight or size advantage I do. “Besides, of course you’re defending them, you don’t know what Changelings even do!”

All the ponies gasp, and even the changelings wince at my outburst. However, what I wasn’t expecting was the temperature of the room to literally drop enough for me to feel it, and the Princesses are both glaring at me, Celestia more than Luna.

“Oh, so now you agree they’re monsters?” I heat myself up with my fire, hiding my shivering. “At least I’m not so flippant with where I stand on things.”

“No, we’re angry that you’d say that, after what Twilight and my niece went through. We know full well, now, what changelings can do at their worst.” Celestia says.

I throw my hands up. “Then we off the fuckers before they can make puppets out of us! Unless they already have. Would certainly explain the immediate defense of a species specifically built for espionage and-”

“So you’re blaming an entire species for the actions of one part of it?” Twilight asks with disgust in her voice. Which is something I’m confused about; she’s shying away from them now, but still supporting them!

Also... “Oh, now you take notice! How many times have I said ‘you ponies’ and never, not once has any of you said anything. You’re a damn herd species. The whole is supposed to be more important than the individual! That’s what a herd is!”

“We’re individuals, though, dummy!” Rainbow Dash says. “I mean, I think they look kinda funky, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t different. That one changeling queen’s goons were all green and stuff, not red! Er, brown. Uh...” seh looks confused for a moment. “What color are you, anyways?”

“Maroon.”

I roll my eyes. “So now you judge ‘safety’ based on color... wow, and you say I’m human when you just made the most blatantly racist comment possible.”

“What? I’m just saying, they’re not angled with the bad guy queen, duh.” Rainbow Dash says with her own roll of her eyes. Someone corrects her with ‘aligned’ under their breath, but I’m not sure who.

“And you determine that based on their color? That’s very racist... So come on, show of hands, who here has had an undoubtedly horrible experience with changelings in general?”

I raise my hand and I see Twilight raise a shaky hoof, though she seems to be trying to merge with the floor from her seat.

Fluttershy hides under her mane, but raises a hoof, too. Rarity shows no compunction about raising a hoof.

“Alright, and I’m going to assume by their lack of voting that the princesses figure that what happened... not that I know anything about it, was perfectly fine. Moving on, there seems to be a majority that disagrees.” Hooves go back down and I continue. “What have the rest of you experienced that says that changelings are harmless? Yes, the currently present changelings are allowed to add their own defenses.”

“Harmless? Ah don’ think any of us said that, Anthony. Ah think you meant we think they aren’t hostile. Cuz while I don’t think there’s a grown changeling who ain’t dangerous, Ah don’t think they’d be tryin’ to attack us without bein’ crazy first. Ah mean, it jus don’ add up.”

I sigh and facepalm. “Did you even hear the thing I asked for votes on? I asked everyone to raise a hand, hoof, whatever, if they had a, and I quote: ‘horrible experience with changelings in general?’ To which you didn’t raise your hoof. Were you, Pinkie, Rainbow and Spike or either princess present for this disaster nobody’s telling me about?” All of them nod except Spike and Luna. “So, now that we have the question actually answered finally... If the majority here understands how dangerous changelings are, then tradition states that the motion is to protect our homes from potential threats, yes?”

The ponies think it over for a moment, until Luna speaks up. “Then should we be removing you from our nation as well?”

I narrow my eyes. “I’m here by choice. Also, you’re certainly not one to be playing that card, considering you are repeatedly referred to as having near Godlike powers. That makes you very dangerous. Your sister even more so. Evict me, you may as well evict yourselves.”

“Oh? And should we simply follow that line of thought and remove every potential threat before there’s a chance to turn it into an ally? Should we try to eject the dragons from this continent? Or the diamond dogs? Or the unicorns, pegasi, and earth ponies as well?” Celestia asks, raising an eyebrow coolly.

“I think the most immediate danger here is the one who, if she made a mistake and her grip slipped, would send the sun hurtling towards us killing us all, but this is about the changelings and nothing else until your sister derailed us by attacking me.”

“But it is a fair comparison, if you’re going to extremes, Anthony. It isn’t fair or sensible.”

“Fair!? Fair!? You think what the changelings did to me was fair? I say they lost that chance when they abducted me and tried to use me as fucking food!” I stand up and punch the table. “You say you’ve seen what they can do but you still say I’m worse than that!?”

“You’re saying we should condemn a child to death for something it had no part in, so yes.”

“A child that, if left alone to its devices, will grow up into a creature who will attempt to drain the love out of everything it sees until there’s nothing left!”

“Really? And do you devour every plant and animal you see?” is the question shot back at me.

I keep my eyes narrowed on Celestia. “You want these changelings in your kingdom, fine. But I don’t want them anywhere near people who could be hurt by it. That narrows it down to... Somewhere outside a populated area. Right?”

“And just have them... what starve slowly to death?”

“Not my fault evolution dealt them a losing hand.” I say. “It’s also not my fault what they did to me, to all of us, personally.”

“But we don’t even know what they did to you.” Rainbow points out.

I sit back in my chair, arms folded. “Alright. Here’s what happened.”

“Wait!” Rainbow Dash interrupts. “How do we know you won’t lie and make the changelings look bad?”

I grit my teeth, ignoring her, and begin my story, starting with my first encounter with Cotton Cloudy’s mom before I blacked out. I detailed my fight in the hive and meeting Chrysalis, and the offer she made to me.

I continued from the point when I met the changeling in the forest after my visit with Fluttershy, then I tell them about the vision, but not going into detail about what I saw. That will wait for later. I then moved to when I did my investigation of Thunder Bolt. Twilight had to vouch for me that my conversation with her did occur. I then told of my decision to not wait for help and the fight with the changelings at the house, but Twilight interrupted.

“But... that’s not right! I remember getting surrounded, but you didn’t save me, you were barely conscious when I showed up! Then-”

“I’m getting to that.”

I detail what happened, what Chrysalis wanted to see. I decide not to spare the romantic encounter with the fake disguised Chrysalis, and I can see Twilight turn a bright red, fidgeting uncomfortably in her seat at the table. I hastily bring up Chrysalis’ mistake, her defeat, and my freeing of Twilight from the cocoon.

Once more, Twilight vouched for me, remembering me getting her out, requesting that she not take us to the library, and then waking up in the hospital.

“And that’s the whole story.”

“Wait.” Rainbow Dash spoke up. “You said something about a vision. What did you see?”

I think for a moment. “I’d rather not say as much as I’d like to just show you.” I turn to the princesses. ”Is there a way you can use some magic spell to give an image of my memory?”

“Technically mind magic is illegal...”

“Well I’d rather not tell it myself, it’s not something I’m proud of.”

Luna speaks up. “What could really be this bad? Aren’t you exaggerating a bit?”

“Luna, you saw part of it.” At this, she looked down at the table, remembering what I showed her while she was in my dream.

“But why show us? Can’t you just tell it?” Twilight asked.

“No. I really don’t want you to know what I saw... but you should know anyway.”

The debate over the legalities of mind magic on others and such continued until eventually Celestia vetoed it completely.

I sigh heavily. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” I close my eyes and focus on the vision, recounting every detail. I hear them. I don’t bother looking, but I can tell their reactions by the gasps of shock and fear at various parts of the memory. Everything turned to dust, not a single living thing left. From the largest of plants to the smallest of insects, all was dead because the changelings had taken everything they could while I sat idly by doing nothing. Everything dead. Everything gone. The planet a barren wasteland where nothing could grow.

No life. Period. A dead planet, just a ball of dust floating through space.

Once it's over, I look around. Luna is cringing, Celestia seems to be on the verge of silent tears, Fluttershy has fainted, Twilight has her hooves wrapped around Spike who is curled up in a ball and holding himself. Rarity is trying to wake up Fluttershy, Rainbow Dash and Applejack are completely speechless, and Pinkie Pie is just looking at me. I can’t really tell what she’s thinking.

"A- Anthony..." Celestia addresses me, her voice wavering a bit.

I shift my gaze away from her, saying nothing. I want to just get up and leave, but I feel doing so would just make things worse. They’ve seen the dark part of me, the evil me, the one that exists in the back of my head, no matter how much I wish I could be rid of it.

Suddenly, I feel something holding me. I open my eyes and I see the nymph has gotten up on the table and is hugging me. Not feeding, but... comforting me...

The ‘mother’ changeling is almost hovering from sheer worry, it’s evident that she/it is scared of me. And probably for good reason, I did kill a changeling queen, but given how easy it was, I don’t really understand their shock, but their fear I do understand. I suppose me beating a queen is impressive. Oh, and I was threatening to kill them all less than ten minutes ago. Why isn’t the nymph scared of me?

The nymph, apparently oblivious, nuzzles my shoulder. It looks up, orangey eyes shiny, a darker patch running vertically through the middle. It reminds me of something, but I can’t put my finger on it. The stubby little horn on its head twists slightly to one side, and in the light and closeness, I can see a tiny tuft of some kind growing from behind the horn.

“Uh... do changelings... shed?”

The matron, looking like it wants to pick up the nymph, but holding back, nods its head. “nymphs molt twice to reach full growth. Four if they’re a young queen.” I can tell that the keeper isn’t really wanting the nymph near me, but I’m still a little incensed that Pinkie brought them here.

Comments

[Quantum_Shift]

And here we get a good look at Anthony not being perfect and entirely subject to internal prejudice. Ponys aren't the only ones with a tendency to demonize based on race, after all.

[Booster Spice]

So, the changelings were accidentally or deliberately selected because Antony was being a Maroon?

Hoping that the vision was due to the use of Banzai, where survival of all depends on Bonsai?

[the-pieman]

6884946 No the survival of all requires Anthony not becoming king of the changelings, which he is adamantly avoiding.

[jaxman147]

Great party, shame it had to end that way. Also, hugs for changelings. Changelings get all of my hugs. *hug*