The Legend of Delta

by ImpossibleReflection

5: Interview one

His dreams where haunted with the same dream. He has had the same dream every night, for five hundred years. Though not exactly the same, but it had the same principle. He walked through a gate lit with ever lasting torches through a place filled with blurred ponies. Every night, with different ponies.

There was a change he noticed after about a century of having them, he began to see ponies he had known. Ponies that either he had been around when he died, or ones he had known could not be alive. He would interact, and had the thought processes of being fully conscious, he knew he was asleep, but he could not control the ponies there. They always asked similar to how he remembered. He had the urge to leave, he walked back through the gates and into his opening eyes.

***

He roused himself from his bed. His body ached and he made a mental note to purchase a better one at the next opportunity. He trotted down the stairs to the room he had designated as his office. He had papers scattered haphazardly on the desk. He ruffled through the papers looking for his to do list. He had to make one each time he moved to a new town. It helped him get acquainted. He wondered what the time was, and looked around, only to realize he had yet to purchase a clock.

After digging through the papers he found his list. He put in the first open space from the top a clock. After he had finished a knocking came from the door. He wondered as who it could be. He went through what deliveries he was expecting, but could think of none. Nopony but his neighbors had known he had moved in. Though before he came to a conclusion he came to the door.

The doorknob was illuminated green as it turned releasing the door from the wall. Upon gazing out the door he was surprised to see the purple mare was standing there with saddlebags resting on her back. He stared in wonder as to what inspired such a visit, and to how she figured out where he resided. Though he soon figured it would take less time to ask, "So what brings you to my abode?"

"This was the only open time on my schedule that I could use to ask you more."

This did not give him much bother, for he had nothing to do today anyway, "Alright, come on in then," he stepped out of the doorway. His hoof raised towards the dining area.

Eight hooves echoed upon the floor encroaching upon the table. A purple glow shaded the room ever so slightly as she lighted her saddlebags upon the table. The table eliciting a audible creak as she did so. A few items where removed from its contents. A red feather, a notepad and a bottle of black ink.

She began organizing them in a pristine, perfectionist, almost obsessive manner. "So is there anything specific you wish to know?"

A notebook beamed lavender energy as the pages turned, "Ah yes, I would like to know what you are exactly."

"I am a changeling," was the flat response.

"Alright," the quill streaked ink across another page, "Where did you come from?"

He made mental notes on how she could ask such question of subject material like this and be so calm and casual. "I come from a barren wasteland of sorts."

"Where exactly?"

With a sigh he responded with, "Outskirts of Equestria, southern edge."

She dipped her pen in the well and noted the new information, Delta's eyes went from one wall to the ceiling to the opposite wall.

"Next question, your disguise how does it work?"

"It is a spell," he responded.

She perked up at that comment, her eyes reflected more light than normal and her face formed a smile. "Could you teach me?" her voice emanated enthusiastic energy.

"It is unlikely," he responded, although he had no clue if she could or not.

"My special talent is magic, I should be able to learn it," she stood from her seat spread out her stance slightly and raised a hoof to her heart with a confident look angled up slightly with her eyes closed.

"It is a rather complicated spell, it changes your aesthetic anatomy. My magic also uses a different frequency, I have only ever heard of one pony managing it. You know of her as Princess Luna. She used a similar spell when becoming Nightmare Moon."

"So it is possible."

"Technically it was a simple mimicry and have no clue how that version works."

"Just try."

"Fine, first you must choose a form to change into. you must calculate every possible feature, voice muscle structure bone structure, coat color mane color and length, every detail must be consciously changed."

"Alright," she raised a hoof up to her chin and stared at and through the ceiling, "Aha! Now what?"

"Then you must charge your magic and course it through your body and change everything to the specifications you have in mind."

The room was soon tinted scarlet as magic saturated the air. Our protagonist was surprised as to how much raw power she possessed, but he observed the magic and figured that her magic is incapable of anything beyond a simple glamor spell which if successful at all would change her colors.

After the blast of magic had dissipated, her coat became white, her hair a deep purple, with a terrible mess as it tried to become a shape it could not attain. Her eyes, though, had remained the same.

"Did it work?" she asked her voice still the usual, "I guess not."

"You managed to change your colors, but that is about it. Rather impressive you managed to build a spell from my instructions though."

The disguise soon fell to pieces, without Twilight's volition. She made a mental note for herself to work on the spell when she arrived at the library.

"Shall we continue, what else would you like to know?"

"Ummm," she took out a smaller notebook, the pages fluttered by. "Exactly how old are you?"

"I can't say I lost track after a couple centuries, I would say around, 5 centuries old. That should be enough, for when you become this old years are fairly insignificant, such as saying half years when you are younger fades away."

She took a few notes. Delta looked to the floor the shadows from the windows had crept along the floor and the sun only had another hour or two till it set.

The smaller notebook glowed scarlet once again pages flipping back and forth. "Do you have a special diet, or do you eat what ponies eat."

"I guess you would call it a special diet, considering I don't eat food at all."

The quill ceased the scribbling on the notebook, the mare frowned slightly and tilted her head in confusion.

"I feed on love, It is what sustains me."

She remained silent her mouth agape, before regaining her composure and clearing her throat. "How exactly do you feed on it?"

"Well we Absorb it, love is the strongest, but we can also feed on other positive emotions, such as liking can produce sustenance like say sunflower seeds, not enough to sustain anything, you yourself give off a faint hint of love, probably from speaking with a character from a story. Though since I am at it I may as well tell you some of the ways we get the love."

She readied her quill and notepad and waited anxiously for him to continue, "One technique is to do what I do, and enter a town with a disguise and build relationships. Another technique, this however being much more dangerous, is to wait for somepony to leave and then take their place for a short while. They have to think of an excuse for coming back early."

It continued on as Twilight asked him questions about what he was, some questions not even he could answer. The sun began to set and he escorted her out for their next meeting. He was relieved that he had someone he could talk to about about who he actually was.
Note from the author,
comments are recommended, if they are insightful they will help with the stories progression. If you quote an error from the story I will fix it at the first opportunity I receive.