The Many Lives Of Twilight Sparkle

by Shitbewackyo

Twilight's life as a newborn changeling 2: A mad hunt

The wind slowly intensified above the treetops of the Everfree, blowing clouds over the cold moon and darkening the woods to near pitch-black darkness. Yet in this sea of black, there was a soft glow coming from a lonely tree in the middle of a swamp. It was tall, with a pear-like shape thanks to the artificially widened base. Warm light spilled out of the muddled windows and a soft hum following exotic melodies could be heard coming from the inside. The light extended past the tree and spilled out onto the clearing where it stood, illuminating the verdant mossy ground that was only rarely interrupted by a waterhole.

Zecora stepped out of her home, a lantern made from trapped fireflies in her mouth and a flute of bone at her back. She sat down on her porch, not minding the wet wood. She looked up and was only slightly disappointed that she wouldn’t see the stars that day. Out here, away from the magic of the ponies, the skies reminded her of those above the wild savannah where she grew up. The constellations were different, even in the Everfree their light dimmed, and the galaxy couldn’t be seen, but for a moment it was as if she’d gone back.

She deliberately placed the flute to her mouth and played, holding it with one hoof, the field around her hoof dancing across the instrument as the melody picked up. The flute was a hard instrument to master for any pony or zebra, in fact, it had been a point of pride for her tribe, not enough for them to turn a blind eye but impressive nonetheless. Yet despite the inherent difficulties, Zecora's exotic harmonies flowed like water and wind. The song spoke of the droughts, it spoke of the savannah, about her journey, and most of all it spoke about the stars that had guided her. Beside her, the fireflies in her lantern were fluttering about, as if dancing to the melody. The entire forest stilled as the music weaved itself through lows and highs and Zecora lost herself to the tune. A tear fell from Zecora’s eye as-

A field of cyan lit up around Zecora’s house, accompanied by a sudden distorted blast of noise. A bone-chilling shriek rang through the clearing, followed by the sound of branches and leaves rustling beneath a pair of frantic hooves.

Instantly Zecora put the flute down and ran back into her home, leaving the lantern on the porch. She closed the door behind her and moved to her potions cabinet, ears filtering out her own hoofsteps as she listened for whatever had caused the disturbance to make another move. Another flash, but this time the shriek could only barely be heard.

Zecora furrowed her brows, this wasn’t good. The hoofsteps had confirmed that it wasn't a simple animal that was attacking her house, but to cause such an odd shriek? She didn’t know of any creature that would make that sound.

She threw open her cabinet and was greeted to the sight of dozens of potions, each in its own alcove enchanted with protective sigils. Next to it hung a leather belt with clasps. This is where she kept the potions she could need at a moment's notice. Luckily she hadn’t had any attacks in quite a while, so the cabinet was stocked full. She took a ceramic bottle denoted by a red x and held it in her hoof, giving it a light shake to confirm its contents.

With a nod she moved to the center of her hut, where a massive fireplace dominated, burning with both normal and magical fire, above which the hollowed-out trunk of the tree acted as a chimney. She uncorked the potion and poured it onto the flames, cringing at the pungent smell as the green smoke started to sizzle out of the liquid. She pulled down on a vine next to the fireplace and the drag from the hollow chimney above intensified as the smoke was rapidly pulled upwards. Outside the windows, she could see the smoke be shot down to the ground, where it quickly spread itself past the clearing and penetrated the line of trees.

Zecora listened with bated breath as the seconds passed by. She finally heard something move, but it grew more and more quiet. Finally, everything went silent. The creature had left.

“My, my, what a fright. Perhaps I shouldn’t make so much noise during the night.” She chastised herself. But even with the creature gone, she didn’t feel safe. That creature hadn’t died, and it might still attack her, or even worse, some defenseless traveler. She needed to know what it was so that nopony would die.

Zecora’s books were kept far away from her potions, on a shelf next to her bed, and one of those was her bestiary. It was cobbled together from other books and her own observations, a patchwork of pages and notes but still the most complete tome of knowledge about her area of the Everfree. Even Twilight had sometimes come to consult it. She leafed through the pages, quickly discarding creatures as the list narrowed down. But in the end, all that she was left with were the timberwolves, the night beasts, and while not part of the bestiary, some kind of insane pony.

However, it didn’t make sense to her, timberwolves never acted alone and that creature didn't have any allies, she’d have heard them. The night beasts needed large amounts of mana to live and could only be found around the mana wells deeper in the Everfree, she had only included them in her list for the sake of being thorough. And even those two possibilities hinged on her having heard wrong, and the creature having no hooves. Finally, she knew that a pony couldn’t have vocalized that shriek, and yet no other hooved creatures lived in her part of the forest. So what was it?

Zecora continued racking her brain for an answer when suddenly she heard a sound that she had hoped to never hear. Outside of the window, the shield around her home flickered once, then another time and with a final flash disappeared.

With mounting horror, Zecora realized that the creature had managed to find and disable one of the anchors for the shield. She stood frozen in shock, staring at nothing, as if waiting for the monster to suddenly appear behind her and kill her right where she stood.

“Unknown creature, I thank you even though I frown, for you chose to attack me before you attacked the town.” She moved away from the book. This creature was dangerous, if it was smart enough to target the anchors then it would be smart enough to hunt a pony or two in the village. Zecora steeled herself. She’d have to kill it before it could kill a foal or some other defenseless pony.

She walked back to her potions, and retrieved those on the lower shelves, attaching them to the leather belt, which she slung along her body and secured firmly. Finally, she went over to her lab and put on her mask, a large wooden thing that encased her snout in a beak while covering the rest of her face in a dark fabric. She ran her hoof over its length and green etchings lit up across its length, its lenses beginning to shine a dim white. Zecora put it on, she was ready.

But she wouldn’t go charging outside, that would just be falling into the creature’s trap. She needed information. And thus she waited patiently as the seconds stretched into minutes and no sounds could be heard besides the crackling of the fire. The creature was patient, she’d give it that. But she had dealt with ambush predators before. She retrieved a doll of felt from her lab and opened a panel on the floor, and from the cold room within took a slab of meat. She held it over the fire as the meat heated up and began to smell.

Zecora calmly opened her door, unfazed by the smell thanks to her mask, and threw the piece of meat halfway between her house and the treeline, watching as it landed in the mud with a wet splash. She held tightly onto the doorknob with a hoof as again time stretched out and she scanned the clearing, aided by the somewhat poor night vision of her mask. No movement came. That wasn't good, although not unexpected, the creature had already proven itself to be intelligent. Luckily, she had a solution.

The doll in her hands was ragged, old, and only halfway stuffed, but it was good enough to be used. She stared at it, and slowly closed her eyes beneath her mask. The puppet stitches lit up in green light, as eyes of pure green materialized onto its face. It jumped down from Zecora's hoof and looked at the mare that was still keeping herself in a state of pure concentration. It looked apprehensively at the field ahead but started to trot forwards. It only took it a couple of seconds to move halfw-

Zecora jumped in shock as the puppet was obliterated by a sudden attack. She didn’t let the shock last as she quickly looked to whatever had attacked the puppet. Its silhouette was that of a pony but the sharp teeth, black carapace, fin-like protrusions, and plate-like blue eyes were unlike anything she had ever seen. Then a faint memory came to her of Twilight telling her about the wedding in Canterlot, and the creatures that had attacked.

“Changeling...” Zecora said, as the changeling in question finally let the torn puppet fall from its maw. For a moment both stared at each other, shining lenses reflecting off of blue plate-like eyes. The changeling moved in a semi-circle, still staring at its prey, although its movements were strangely clumsy. It tried to flank Zecora, but she kept a good eye on it and didn’t fall for its feints. Finally, the Changeling stopped, glaring at the zebra.

With a shriek, the changeling launched itself at Zecora, but she had been expecting an attack and launched a ceramic bottle straight at it, sidestepping the charge. The changeling tried to avoid the projectile, unfurling its wings, but it had overcommitted and was hit face first with an acidic concoction that started eating through its skin.

It screamed as it flew and collapsed just past the threshold. It scraped itself, trying to remove the acid even as its wings buzzed frantically and its body convulsed on the floor. Zecora took the chance and fell on the changeling with her hoof, knocking the wind out of it as well as stopping its mad movements for a moment. Not wasting another second she then bucked it away, trying to keep some distance between herself and those fangs.

The changeling tumbled with the force and skidded right into the fire. Zecora cursed under her breath as the changeling screamed and trashed, flinging burning pieces of wood around the cabin. But she couldn’t give up now, she had it on the ropes and so she kept throwing her potions at it. Poisons, hallucinogens, kinetic blasters. Her house’s wounds grew as the potions on her belt decreased. Why wouldn’t the changeling die?

She stopped her barrage and examined the changeling, which was trying in vain to do something about the pain even as it vomited and bled green blood all over her floor, not only from its wounds. Then she saw it, a shimmering green field around the changeling, which seemed to momentarily blur the wounds before leaving them looking much better than before. She was shocked, healing spells were rare for magical creatures, especially for feral ones like this, and doubly so if they were this effective. This wasn’t supposed to be possible, she could die here.

She ran over to the cabinet, her heart pounding and praying to the spirits and Celestia that the changeling would remain immobilized long enough. She retrieved two potions, throwing one immediately at the changeling and watching for a split second in satisfaction as the liquid ate its magical field away. With a cry of her own she rushed towards the changeling with the second potion in hoof. Missing would be disastrous, and she only had one shot. Her hoof readied as she activated the markings on the bottle and the contents within started to vibrate and violently punch against its prison. The changeling looked up, and despite its exoskeleton, she could see its face morph into an expression of pure terror. It knew what was coming.

“Zecora, stop!” The changeling cried, and Zecora froze on the spot. The voice was distorted, laced with vibrations and alien sounds, but it was unmistakable. That was the voice of Twilight Sparkle.

“Twilig-” But the changeling took its chance while Zecora still hadn’t finished speaking and tackled her with all its force. They were sent flying through the room and towards the window as Zecora lost her grip on the potion and it fell to the floor. As the bodies of the changeling and Zecora shattered the glass and shards embedded themselves painfully in Zecora’s skin a loud rumble came from the middle of the room. The potion had burst open and sent bouts of fire spewing out all around it. The shockwave hit them and pushed them even further away from the cabin, the two bodies separating in mid-flight. Less than a second later an ear-piercing sound came from the tree as every brittle container inside the house shattered simultaneously. They hit the muddy ground hard, and the shards of glass embedded in Zecora were driven even further in.

The changeling wheezed in pain as Zecora grit her teeth and turned her snout out of the dirt, her mask had flown off and the mud stained her face. She slowly started trying to pull herself to her hooves, fighting through the pain. Meanwhile, the changeling rose with a labored movement, breathing heavily as it struggled to lock on to Zecora through its hallucinations and nausea, and with a final effort threw itself at her.

Zecora screamed as she felt cold, muddy fangs pierce her neck and the entire weight of the changeling press down on her back. Immediately something started to drain, it wasn’t blood, it was something else, something deeper, and it was painfully ripped out of Zecora. She tried to throw a punch but she was too weak, and the longer the fangs remained the weaker she got. All she could do was give a wheezing scream. The sucking intensified, and something started to prod at her. In her last moments of lucidity, interspersed with dizziness and fainting, Zecora shuddered as something deep inside of her was painfully pierced and shattered.

Even as the zebra closed her eyes the changeling continued to feed, face twisting into a look of primal relief, the many wounds marring the previously pristine carapace forgotten as it drank the sweet life force directly out of the zebra and its body rid itself of most of the poisons that Zecora had used. The shudders ceased, muscles relaxed and slowly the fog began to lift itself.

Twilight stared in horror, letting Zecora slide off her fangs and fall to the ground. She kept staring as she slowly, taking minuscule steps, backed away from the unconscious mare. Wet hoofsteps resounded through the clearing until she was pushed back against a tree.

“No...” she stuttered out. She couldn’t believe it, she didn’t want to accept it, but she knew what she did, what it meant. “ZECORA!” Twilight shouted and ran over to her friend. She hyperventilated, rolling Zecora onto her side and looking her over. The mare was a mess, riddled with glass, bleeding, and her skin was unnaturally soft as if replaced by moldy meat. What was worse, however, was the pure mana she sensed radiating off Zecora in random bursts. That could only mean one thing: her soul was damaged.

Twilight looked back to the treehouse and unfortunately, the fire had engulfed the tree almost completely. To make matters worse, the smoke started to take on unnatural colors. She couldn’t heal Zecora here, she had to get her somewhere safe, she had to fix her mistake.

“Zecora, oh sweet Celestia, I’m sorry Zecora!” Twilight shouted. She reached to wipe her tears but found that her body didn’t make any. She had just mutilated the soul of her friend and she couldn’t even cry.

No, she wouldn’t let her friend's soul be destroyed, she wouldn’t let Zecora suffer such an awful fate. The stolen lifeforce made carrying the zebra an easy task, a realization that made Twilight scowl.

She started running back to her cave, through the thickets and over the roots, trusting in her new instincts and night vision to guide her body and her cargo safely through the night. She had an idea for how to cure Zecora, but she had to put her somewhere safe first. Thundering hoof steps and the beating of her heart filled Twilight's mind as she galloped off into the forest, the burning tree disappearing behind her.

“Please, Zecora, hold on!”

Comments

[Ali della Morte]

Amazing chapter

[Shitbewackyo]

11020750
I'm glad that you liked the chapter.