Papers? Please!
The newspaper arrived like all of the others; which is to say, there was an ominous crackle directly overhead, a nexus of magenta light, and an eager Paradox ready to both catch and claim it. Sundance, once terrified of being teleported once more, now only cast a wary eye upon the annoyance but his breakfast was interrupted. Three papers had arrived to varying degrees of panic, but today's, the fourth, was practically a non-issue at this point.
"Dibs," Paradox said around a mouthful of muesli.
"We've become so much closer," Sundance said to his cousin beside him, "since the regular arrival of newspapers."
"I value our breakfasts together," she replied whilst she unrolled the newspaper.
"Alright," he said, readying himself for the onslaught of terrible news, "hit me. What are today's headlines?"
"Gimme a moment," Paradox replied, her fine grammar and eloquence lapsing in her half-awake state. Her powerful jaws crunched and munched her cereal grains while her eyes darted to and fro, taking in all the text fit to read.
"Hmm," Sundance hmmed, because a response felt necessary, but he had nothing to say.
"Hmm?" Paradox turned this into a question through some means, probably magic—or perhaps an unseen change in punctuation.
"You only enjoy my company at breakfast because the forecast calls for Sundance with a chance of a newspaper shower. Tell me I'm wrong, Para—mmph!"
Paradox, who now had her hoof held over Sundance's mouth, smiled a soft smile whilst she eagerly read her pilfered newspaper.
Sundance, who now had Paradox's hoof held over his mouth, was sincerely surprised. She was not a touchy-feely sort, so her doing something like this was completely unexpected. So unexpected that it was totally worth the cost of a newspaper. Had she learned to trust? Was she healing? If she was, then this bode well for Sparrowhawk. Ignited by optimism, Sundance allowed his warm emotions to soar into the clouds—only to feel a pang of regret when Paradox pulled her hoof away.
The moment—the most magical of moments—ended far too soon.
"More is known about the underground complex. The alchemical refinery had an underground test facility, as was required by the city regulations at the time of its founding. Over time, Peaceful Pastures greatly expanded the warrens in secret and spread out beneath the city like a parasitic organism. That's good journalism right there. Parasitic organism."
In silence, Sundance allowed that to sink in for a moment.
"Canterlot has a couple of alchemical refineries too," Paradox said to Sundance. "They're also subterranean. For safety reasons. If something goes horribly wrong, the whole thing buries itself and efforts are made to seal everything off. It doesn't always work, but having it underground is better than the alternative, which is having the whole mess aboveground."
For a brief moment, Sundance thought about what Autumn Allium had said about purging data. Was there a plan to demolish the whole facility and to sink everything into a hole? Could that have been used to hide the evidence of wrongdoing? In the end, when it mattered most, Autumn Allium chose to do right. She was alive; he knew this from another newspaper, and led the effort to cooperate with the authorities. For all of her faults, and his own intense dislike of her, he hoped that she would be shown some small measure of mercy.
"More of the same," Paradox said around a mouthful of still somewhat crunchy muesli. "They were testing drugs… vaccines… curatives and restoratives. But they were also working on a means of protection from shadowlings. That's a new bit of information." For a short time, she went silent, chewed her breakfast, and her eyes soaked up every printed word.
"They were intentionally exposing patients to the influence of shadowlings." She gulped, and the sound she made when she swallowed sounded painful. "All this misery was intentional. Sensory deprivation, keeping patients from vital sunlight, inflicting all this deprivation, all of it was intentional. There was hope of finding an elixir or some kind of protective draught, some manner of decoction that would make ponies immune to the effects and influence of shadows. They were trying to find a way to protect us all from the things that pose the most danger to our cities."
Sundance, who understood very little about the shadowling threat, had nothing to say. They were parasites that fed upon negativity, and caused sad sickness. For them, cities were a feast of negativity. They lived under beds, in closets, the shadowlings found refuge in shadow. Through their influence, they caused bad dreams and made ponies act in an unseemly manner. Negative aspects such as tribalism were made worse, all so that shadowlings would have more negativity to feast upon. He understood very little of the unseen world, but knew it to be a problem.
Fillydelphia was no doubt infested with shadowlings, as was Baltimare. Probably every major city in Equestria. Wherever ponies gathered in large numbers, so too did the shadowlings. He'd been warned about them, and knew that at some point in the future, he would need to worry about the barony. Chartreuse had warned him—schooled him in the nature of shadowlings and the threat they posed. But it was now that it truly sank in and his understanding of the threat made sense.
He needed to have a long talk with Litany.
"I can't help but wonder," Paradox said, mostly to herself, "if the shadowlings were running the asylum and had themselves an all-you-can-eat buffet set up. It's more than possible. In school, I learned that they can whisper in your ear while you sleep and say the most reasonable things. They're endlessly manipulative and can trick you into thinking that you're doing something for the sake of good. All those suicides… were the shadowlings just having themselves a bit of a feed?"
This caused Sunance to shiver so hard that his teeth clapped together.
"On the surface, this seems like more of the same. Corporate greed and bad ponies doing bad things for the sake of profit. But beneath the surface…" She shook her head from side to side as a thin ribbon of milk dribbled down her fuzzy chin. "I don't like to look beneath the surface. In the depths of this ocean, you and I are no more than food. The further you go down, the more eldritch horrors you find. Nothing is as it seems and simple evil isn't so simple. It always leads to something worse… something unfathomable… and however awful as that might be, that too, leads to something worse. There are black things in the depths. But up here on the surface, everything seems so simple. So black and white. So cut and dry."
"I remember when I was ignorant and life seemed simpler. I didn't know. These horrors didn't exist." Sundance watched as Paradox wiped her chin with her foreleg, and then she licked her lips. "You know, I think I was happier. But there's no going back. There's no going back and you and I are far too aware of what exists beneath this raft we call civilisation."
"Seems precariously thin on the bottom," she replied with a sad shake of her head. "That's pretty insightful, what you just said. If I didn't know better, I'd think you were getting smarter. Or maybe wiser. Or maybe all this accursed boredom and lack of modern distractions just gives us all more time to think. The strangest thoughts come to me when I'm in the outhouse."
"Mmm-hmm," he mmm-hmmed with a nod. "When I get done with breakfast, I'm going to go and have me a think."
Of the three changelings that assisted Sundance, only one of them had a name that he was capable of speaking. Perennial had a spoken name; the other two had names that only a telepath could understand, as they were a series of mental images, feelings, and notions. Sundance did not begrudge them, nor did he demand that they take a sensible name. Just so long as he could communicate with Perennial, he was fine.
Perennial was a pretty changeling, with a gleaming iridescent black-green carapace that shimmered rainbow swirls when the light hit it just right. Her horn appeared to be a twig, and tiny leaves and buds could be seen growing on the magical organ. She was small in build, just like her companions, and not at all like Simulacrum and Simulacra, who were far, far larger and sturdier. From what little he understood about her, Perennial came from drone stock—who just so happened to be well-prepared to deal with tasks involving an aggravating level of tedium.
Which meant that she actually enjoyed the drudgery of paperwork.
The trio worked with astonishing speed; so much so that Sundance could not help but envy them. If he'd had their help with his genealogy project, he would have been finished in no time at all. They sat back to back, forming a sort of triangle, and paperwork circled about them like a cyclone. He could feel them in his mind, reading his knowledge, cleverly tapping into his curious innate understanding of paperwork and bureaucracy.
With their help, he might finish up all this paperwork while he was still young.
"How goes things at your homestead?" he asked. "Did the storm cause you grief?"
He felt something in his mind, a pleasant sensation, and then he heard Perennial say, "We have made friends. The storm was no trouble at all."
"Friends?" Sundance lowered the paper that he'd been reading.
"Beavers," Perennial replied. "We've made friends with beavers. Beavers make good friends."
"If you don't mind me asking… how does one make friends with beavers?"
"They were suffering," the pretty changeling replied. "There is a magical dread upon the land. We know not where it comes from. We know not the source. But the simple minds of the beavers had no protection from this insidious dread. It made them behave contrary to their nature. We used our minds to shield their minds, and now they are our companions. They work for us… labour for us, and in return, we grow them tender saplings. They will assist us with the planned flow of water."
"Incredible." Sundance put down the paper on the table before him whilst he tried to organise his thoughts into meaningful questions. He had so many.
"We are not exploiting the beavers," she said to him. "We have not enslaved their minds as our kind might have once done. We have a mutually beneficial arrangement."
"So the beavers were influenced?" he asked.
"They were driven mad by the insidious dread. Paranoia wracked their minds. Beavers do not naturally experience paranoia, nor do they experience insanity. They attempted to build a beaver fortress to keep themselves safe. They believed a long horrible winter was coming… which is the only thing that their simple minds truly understand. The dread became winter and this consumed their thoughts."
"I see."
"No, you don't, but it is admirable of you to want to understand," she said to him.
"When I said, 'I see' it was meant as an acknowledgment… not that I actually see."
"Oh." Perennial's head tilted to one side and her eyes gleamed for a moment. "Affirmation of statement. Confirmation of exchange. We see."
"So the beavers were barmy…"
"As evidenced by their irresponsible construction."
Concerned, and more than a little distraught by this information, Sundance leaned against the table. Something was causing the animals to behave strangely. The owlbears had come down out of the mountains and now roamed the lowlands and the hills. Beavers were preparing for a long winter. Bunnies were overbreeding. The owls were deeply disturbed by something, but despite all of his attempts to communicate with them, he could not determine what.
Some insidious dread lurked somewhere… but where?
So much of his land remained unsurveyed. There was so much to do, so much that demanded his attention. Even if he went looking, could he handle what he might find? He needed to learn how to fight. That was a priority. The past few days were spent with this lurking in the back of his mind. Perhaps it was time to ask Lord Sumac for help. Or, if not him, then who? Surely there was somepony he could turn to. But not Princess Celestia, oh no. She needed to see that he could handle this on his own. There was so much given to him already.
Now it was time to make friends, and then ask those friends for help.
"Perennial… are you sure that you're fine with paperwork? I mean… if you are the least bit unhappy, you don't have to help me. I just, uh, wanted to make that clear."
"This is better than wading through muck and slime," she said in return to his question. "We are dry. We are comfortable. We are freed from heavy lifting."
"Oh… well… I can see how this might be appealing then. Carry on. But if you need a break, take one."
"One shall be taken if it is needed, we assure you."
"Good. Good. Right. Back to the grind, I suppose…"
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Curious as to some changelings having verbal names and some telepathic names. Tons of cultures give their people more than one name is there any reason they choose just one kind rather than having both?
So long as there aren't any spiders, it is an excellent place for a good think.
That makes a certain amount of sense. What do negative feelings usually herald? A bad winter. It makes sense in a way. It's also a warning. Good to see Sundance has the wisdom to recognize that all the things going on are probably related. It will be interesting to see what comes.
I like the touch of the changelings having telepathic names that consist of a "series of mental images, feelings, and notions." Interestingly, when I'm creating characters in my mind, that's how the start out and things like proper names usually come later.
it sounds like Tarnish and Maud need to spend some time there to find the source of the problem.
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This isn't their story. Sorry.
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I was humming this sadly through
creatures of negativity and possible harsh winter incoming. Windegos maybe?
D'awwww! I LOVE this special little exchange with the Changelings! This is really great! <3
Plus they made little beaver friends ^_^
Though this certainly does make one wonder...What in the name of all that is unholy is hiding in Sundance's land?
You know I DO wonder about the Shadowlings with the Asylum. Were they in control? Would the Wardens have been able to spot this?
I am also wondering how much progress they made, despite saying it was for the betterment of society. I would think trying to capture Shadowlings for study would do a lot more to figure out their weaknesses.