In Canterlot, life should be perfect. But every now and then somepony decides they don’t want their lives. That’s when I come into the picture. After I’m done with you, you won’t remember anything at all. I am Amnesia.
In Canterlot, life is good for everypony. They are well protected from monsters, the city is a booming cultural and economical center of Equestria. Life here should be perfect. But every now and then somepony decides they don’t want their lives. That’s when I come into the picture. After I’m done with you, you won’t remember anything at all. There is nopony, who would remember me. My name is Amnesia. And I’m a changeling.
Neon Lights stretched in his bed, letting out a long yawn. Or at least that’s what he would’ve done, if it truly would’ve been Neon Lights. Still, the creature in Neon’s bed represented said pony pretty well; down to the last hair in his mane the thing was a spitting image of the male unicorn; grayish teal coat, black hair and tail, and blue eyes. Not a single motion, nothing betrayed the true identity of the impostor in Neon’s place.
Truth is, Amnesia could really get used to these roles; she sometimes thought she maybe did it too well. But the changeling hiding in Neon’s image never had a problem with playing roles; not with her natural talent. She left the hive ages ago, when she saw the perfect opportunity to permanently disappear, and has been acting on her own from then on. There was only one pony, who kept her identity a secret, and through whom she could always find better prey, or more excitement if she got bored.
She was a changeling; a female from Queen Chrysalis’ hive, who deserted before the Canterlot invasion. She discovered her natural talent more than a year ago; and since then she kept it a secret from everyone. She found out that she was able to completely remove the memories of anypony; leaving them as an empty shell, ready to be taken care of by some kind stranger. She did this for a year now; ponies contacted her, wishing for a new life, or a new chance, or just wishing to forget it all, and Amnesia was glad to help them. For the right price of course. All she asked from her ‘clients’ was that they hand over some very loving family members, friends or both. She needed to feed of course, and spying for a few days on her would-be clients usually gave her a pretty good picture of how much love she could get.
She walked to the kitchen and turned on the coffee maker. Not that she would’ve needed it, but the pony she was currently replacing started every morning with a steaming cup of brown liquid. Even though Amnesia hated it and there was no one to watch her drink it, the possibility of being discovered still remained.
To be honest Neon Lights was just another role; the best one for Amnesia so far. He was a lighting technician employed by the famous DJ-PON3 herself, otherwise known as Vinyl Scratch, and they had a pretty good fanbase; Amnesia herself felt full from the love of their admirers after every performance. She hid her true self pretty well; the advantage of flying solo was that she never had to return to the hive to deposit her surplus of love. She had money, spent as little of it on food as she could without being too suspicious, and more on other items helping her to stay comfortable.
She needed comfort lately, since she woke up more and more exhausted every day for a couple of weeks now. She tried taking time off, going to bed early when possible, but it didn't seem to work. She finished her coffee, and began reading her newspaper, when she heard a knock on her door. She stood up and went to open the door of her flat.
“Hey Neon! What’s up?” a white unicorn with blue spiky hair greeted the changeling. The shifter immediately recognized Vinyl
“Not much; woke up, read the papers,” Amnesia replied. “I don’t have anything planned for today.”
“Cool! Wanna come and annoy Tavi?” Vinyl asked with a huge grin.
Truth be told Amnesia wanted nothing more for today than just take a quiet stroll in the park, but she knew Vinyl’s favorite activity was to annoy the famous cellist, Octavia. The changeling could swear the white unicorn had a thing for the earth pony mare, but neither of them talked about it. Amnesia rubbed her forehead, thinking about an appropriate answer.
“Sorry, Vinyl, but no,” she replied. “I don’t really think it’s an appropriate thing to annoy someone just for fun.”
“Annoying Tavi is your favorite thing to do!” Vinyl said, and that answer shocked the other. “Since when do you care about ‘appropriate’?”
It is my favorite thing? Amnesia thought to herself, but tried to keep up her act.
“Well, since never, I just thought our public image would be bad, if Octavia would somehow retaliate,” the changeling quickly replied. “Besides, I’m not feeling too well right now.”
“Gee, sorry. Maybe I’ll come, check upon you later, okay?”
“All right. But I may go and see a doctor, so if I’m not home, don’t panic.”
“You going to a doctor?” the unicorn asked, surprised yet again. “You must be really sick to willingly go near to a pill-pusher!”
I guess I am. Amnesia thought, as she closed the door after Vinyl’s departure.
The changeling went into the living room and dropped on her couch. It felt uncomfortable, no matter how fluffy the pillows were; and she tossed and turned on it, trying to get some rest. Her head hurt, she felt dizzy, and to top it off, her carapace was itchy. How it could be itchy was a mystery for the changeling, but she soon got up, and wobbled her way into the bathroom.
After more than an hour of scrubbing her carapace in the ice cold water, Amnesia stepped out of the bathtub, dried herself with a towel, and put on her disguise. Her carapace was still itchy, but at least her head wasn’t pounding like before. She went to her kitchen and checked the newspaper again, to see if there was any commotion in the Canterlot park, then left her house for a quiet stroll.
On her way to the park she watched the other ponies on the streets. It wasn’t rare that somepony ran up to her, and announced how much they admired ‘her’ work. She smiled to herself; being able to drain somepony’s memories made it possible for her to do the wondrous works Neon did in his best days, and take some inspiration from the memories of her previous clients as well. She knew so much right now, that even if her cover was somehow blown, she could create her own disguise, and live on as almost anything.
But her cover was never blown, she made sure of that. Usually she asked her clients to take a day or two off from their work, and travel far, far away from home. They were told not to make contact with anypony during their trip, and travel in incognito. She of course followed them, and made sure nopony knew where her clients went. Then, when the time was right, she met them in a nice little tavern, with lots of drunkards as regular customers, and usually on the outside of the tavern she stole the memories of the pony. From that point on, all she had to do was start a fight in the tavern, wait for the guards and medics to arrive, and toss the physically unharmed, but mentally blank pony onto the pile of unconscious bodies. After all was said and done, she took possession of her client’s belongings, checked out from their accommodations, and went back, to live the life of a new pony.
As of what happened to the empty shell of a pony, she didn’t really care. She usually entrusted Dr. Migraine to watch over them. Migraine was Amnesia’s little helper, a psychiatrist and psychologist, who for some reason specialized in helping ponies with memory loss to get on with their lives. Memory losses didn’t occur very often, but when they did, somehow somepony always told Migraine about it. He was a unicorn pony, not too tall, with dark brown coat, light brown mane and short tail, and deep green eyes. When Amnesia first made contact with him, she already knew about her special ability, and planned to make a deal with the pony for her advantage. She first threatened him with being replaced, hoping she could force some sweet promises from the stallion.
She was quickly disappointed, when Migraine read her actions like an open book, and asked her what she truly wanted. After that, the pony quickly accepted the deal, and due to his promise to keep his patients’ records private and secure, Amnesia never had to worry about her identity being revealed. Migraine told her about possible customers, and she took the initiative to strike a deal with the ponies. Replacing them of course gave her clients an opportunity to start a new life, before anypony would’ve started looking for them.
Amnesia never looked back after leaving a life behind. She disappeared quickly and without a word, leaving no trace. Even if somepony suspected that there was a changeling involved, they could never find her next target.
She arrived at the park; the sun was shining, a few clouds swimming across the blue ether, birds chirping, and it was perfectly boring. Not that Amnesia was looking for a huge parade with loud music and such, but a little excitement, a little chaos would’ve been a bit better. Watching ponies get on with their excruciatingly ordinary life made Amnesia sleepy. And sleeping in an open place with an itchy carapace was bad news. What if she were to unconsciously reveal her true form and get spotted?
She walked through the park, looking for a place with some life, but only found boring friends talking and couples. Then she spotted a mare playing frisbee with her filly. Nothing unnatural about that.
But Amnesia had memories about the mare. Of course she knew how to act like a polite pony, and right now a bit of social interaction was just what she needed.
“Hey there Swan Dive!” Amnesia greeted the mare. The mare stopped mid-throw, and looked at ‘Neon’. “Long time no see! How are you?”
“Thanks, I’m fine... umm, might I ask who are you?” Swan asked.
“You don’t remember? We went to school together!”
“My memory might be bad, but I would recall somepony this unique!” she replied.
“Well, I always used to tease you about birds, if I remember correctly,” Amnesia resumed. “I called you Mother Goose!”
“Excuse me, this might be a good joke to you, but the pony who called me that disappeared more than six months ago!” Swan yelled furiously. “So take your sick jests somewhere else mister, because it’s not funny!”
What’s happening? Amnesia thought. What did I do wrong?
Suddenly the changeling’s head started to pound, and she ran off. She didn’t know what happened, but she didn’t want to be around ponies for now.
Arriving in Neon’s flat Amnesia locked the door, and headed to the bathroom. She switched the lights on, and dropped her disguise, starting straight into the mirror. What she saw scared her. She saw the face of a changeling.
Twilight Sparkle, newly crowned princess was sitting in a small room, surrounded by parchments and tomes. She was currently working her way through a tome about the different customs of Equestria’s bigger cities, when somepony knocked on the door. She sighed, and stood up from the huge round table.
“Yes?” she asked, forcing a smile on her face. Before her stood a maid, with a worried expression on her face.
“Princess, there is somepony, who wishes to see you,” She said shyly. “He’s a doctor, and he says it’s urgent.”
“Okay, let him in. I'll go and make myself presentable,” Twilight replied, rubbing her forehead.
The alicorn wondered who might wish to see her personally, especially since it was a doctor. She thought it would be someone she already knew, but that didn’t mean she could cast formalities aside. She adjusted her clothes, and grabbed her tiara from atop the table, putting the royal symbol on her head. She looked at her reflection in a nearby display cabinet’s window, and finding everything fit for a princess, she moved behind the table, taking a seat on an antique armchair.
Not a moment later, there was another gentle knock on the door.
“You may enter.” Twilight said.
“Good morning, Princess!” the doctor was a unicorn; average height, dark brown coat, light brown mane and tail and green eyes. His cutiemark was strangely a mind. “I hope I’m not disturbing anything too important.”
“We were just in the middle of studying, nothing more,” Twilight replied casually. “We always put the needs of our subjects before our personal interests!”
“Well, that’s good to hear, but the problem I need help with, is a bit more complicated,” the stallion replied. “My name is Doctor Migraine, I am a psychologist and a psychiatrist here in Canterlot, and I have a problem with a... special patient of mine.”
“How could I, a newly crowned princess be of any help in a psychological case?” Twilight asked, surprised. “Even before, my expertise was magic and friendship, not mental problems.”
“Well, I really shouldn’t say more until... until I’m perfectly sure that whatever is said here will not leave this room,” Migraine said, looking around suspiciously. “If word gets out that I’ve talked about the secrets of any one of my patients, I could lose my reputation, and my job with it.”
“All right, I assure you, my lips are sealed,” the alicorn replied. “I promise.”
“Very well then.” Migraine relaxed a bit. “I need your help, because said problem was created by magic. My patient has a natural talent, unlike any I’ve ever seen or heard of. I usually take a keen interest in my patients, but her talent arose much more than mere curiosity in me.”
“You’re losing me doctor; who is your patient?” Twilight asked point blank.
“Well, who she is, is really up to her, but what she is I’m surely would make you suspicious.”
“And that’s because?”
“Because my patient is a changeling.”
Twilight’s jaws fell.
“A very nice changeling, to be honest.”
“You must be out of your mind!” Twilight almost yelled, losing her temper. “Why would you even –”
“Princess! You promised!” Migraine hissed, looking around nervously, expecting guards to break through the door any moment.
“How could you help a beast like that!” Twilight said less louder, but still in a furious tone. “Have you forgotten what happened in your very city?”
“No, I have not,” Migraine replied calmly. “But she contacted me a few months before that whole fiasco, and I assure you, she had no part in it.”
“How can you tell?” the princess asked. “They are liars, their very being is deception itself!”
“Like we ponies are saints ourselves,” Migraine retorted. “I know what the savage beasts that attacked Canterlot are like, and she is not one of them.”
“Then how does she survive?” Twilight asked, narrowing her eyes.
“I will tell you everything, if you come with me, and at least consider helping her.”
Twilight sat in silence for a minute, weighing her options, staring at the stallion in front of her. Maybe he was a changeling too. But that would’ve been awfully stupid from any changeling. He looked calm, yet somewhat sad and worried. Twilight suspected that he truly cared for his patients, be that pony or changeling, and considering that, she slowly nodded.
“Take me to her.”
Neon Lights was sitting in a bathroom. Or at least, he thought he was Neon Lights. He was unsure of it. He remembered being friends with Cloud Breaker, a pegasus from Cloudsdale. Or was that somepony else? He used to write letters to a sousaphonist mare, he remembered that much, but he hadn't written one in ages. What if she got upset because of that? And most importantly: why would somepony like himself write letters to a pony who plays classic music?
His thoughts were confused, and there was the thing in the mirror too. Why was it, that everytime he looked into the mirror, he saw the face of a changeling? He remembered being a changeling, but that was impossible, since he was Neon Lights!
Or was he?
He heard the door being opened, and saw his psychologist, Migraine enter, along with a purple alicorn. Neon remembered reading something in the papers about a coronation, but he was too preoccupied with designing the light show for Vinyl’s performance. Now he cursed himself for being so ignorant.
“Oh, thank goodness you’re back, Doc!” Neon said, surprisingly in a female voice, standing up to greet them. He ignored his voice, but noticed that the alicorn looked shocked, and she took a step back. “Doc, you really have to help me! I have a lot of work to do, and if I don’t finish it by tomorrow, Vinyl’s going to kill me!”
“Calm down, please, everything is going to be fine!” Migraine said, leading the changeling out of the bathroom, and offering her a place on the couch in the living room. “Please Neon, lay down, and relax.”
“Neon?” Twilight whispered to Migraine.
“Neon Lights, Amnesia’s latest ‘client’,” the stallion explained quietly.
“Doc, what’s happened? I don’t even remember coming here, just you saying that you’ll be back with help, and since then everything got so confusing!” Amnesia cried out.
“Please Neon, I’d like you to relax, as much as you can,” Migraine asked, and after the shifter took a few deep breaths, he continued. “Now, I would like you Amnesia, to wake up.”
“Migraine? Is that you?” the changeling’s voice became weak, and Twilight noticed she was staring at the ceiling with blank eyes. “Please help! I can’t remember! I can remember it all, but I can’t remember who I am! Oh, Migraine, it’s worse than any pain! Please help!”
“Amnesia, I have Princess Twilight Sparkle here with me; she agreed to help, but she wants to know your story first.”
“I can’t... I can’t tell it!” Amnesia whispered. “I don’t remember it all, it’s... it’s confusing! But I wrote it down! I wrote a diary, just as you said I should! I have it, in my saddlebag!”
Migraine looked at Twilight. The princess wanted to hear the story from the changeling herself, but seeing what condition she was in, Twilight doubted she could've asked the shifter to tell it, without causing her permanent harm. She slowly nodded, and Migraine turned back to Amnesia.
“She will read it, and then help you, I promise!” Migraine calmed the changeling, gently stroking her head. “Sleep now, Amnesia.”
The changeling suddenly turned her head, searching for Twilight. When Amnesia's stare fixated on Twilight, she knew the changeling couldn't have been looking at her; yet she felt something in that blank stare piercing her.
“Please help!” she whispered, and then fell asleep.
Migraine made sure she was resting, and then turned to the princess.
“You saw her condition first hoofed; she completely lost herself. Before I left, she asked me to go and see Beauty Brass; somepony Neon never even knew, but one of Amnesia’s previous clients did. Her memories are mixing up, and she can’t control it anymore.”
“I still can’t believe anypony would willingly let a changeling take their memories, along with their life,” Twilight replied. “I’ll need a better proof, before I make a decision.”
“Very well, I’ll get you her diary.”
With that Migraine left the living room, leaving Twilight alone with the sleeping shifter. The princess looked at the changeling; she was asleep, but not resting. She was moving in her sleep, and her expressions clearly showing the battle she was fighting in her dreams. A battle between the memories she stole from her clients, and her own. If her conscience would’ve let her, Twilight would’ve instantly left, saying it was poetic justice, and let the changeling deal with it. But it just wasn’t who she was. Which raised the valid question: who was the changeling that called herself Amnesia?
“Maybe this’ll help you find some answers,” Migraine said, holding a tattered notebook.
“You have got to be kidding me,” Twilight replied, grabbing the book. “Even a foal’s book is kept in a better condition.”
“A book by it’s cover? Now I know why you refuse to help her,” the stallion said sadly.
“Hey that’s not –” Twilight began, but stopped when he looked at the psychologist’s expression. “Okay, okay, I was judging a book by it’s cover. But I had a reason!”
“And reasons justify everything, don’t they?” Migraine retorted, but before Twilight could’ve replied, he held up his hoof. “We have more pressing matters at hoof; I think you should get to it.”
The princess let out a heavy sigh. Admitting defeat, she took a seat in the armchair, opened the notebook, and began reading the scribbled sentences.
Ugh, a diary. Like I’ll ever need one. What am I supposed to write in this? I know who I am, and if I write down everything, it’ll still only be the story through my own eyes. Or maybe not, since I can write down the memories of anypony I become! Still, it’s strange, how the good doctor agreed to help me. Oh well, must be my irresistible charm. Since I figured out through that stupid accident back in the hive (Poor Fizzler always knew too much), that I can steal memories, I think I became more confident. Maybe ponies like confident creatures.
And maybe that’s why this particular pony is less popular than others. I immediately knew he lacked self confidence, at the moment when he looked at himself in the bathroom mirror. Oh, right, I’m spying on him now. Migraine told him that I would find him, and told me where to find him. So now, he’s going to take a stroll in the city, and I’m going to stalk him. Or to be correct; I am already stalking him.
Amnesia closed the notebook that Migraine gave her, and put it in a saddlebag. She still thought it was a stupid idea, but Migraine insisted that he would only help her if she wrote everything down. He told her that it was to ‘satiate his curiosity’; that unicorn was still way too excited to know more about Amnesia’s special talent. Like she herself wasn’t. Ever since she ‘accidentally’ erased the mind of a fellow changeling, she herself was trying to find out the extents of her new ability.
She watched the pony leave his comfy Canterlot flat, and suspected she had about two minutes, before the pegasus leaves the building. She recollected what Migraine told her about her first real client; a pony who wished his memories completely erased. His name was Buddy, he was a bluish-green pegasus, with gray mane and tail and blue eyes. On his flank was three clovers, which didn’t really make sense to Amnesia, but to her, ponies were weirder than birds. Seriously, how does something that makes that much noise survive?
She spotted her target exiting the building. She stood up, already wearing the disguise of an average light-blue pegasus mare, and followed the path Buddy took, but traversing on the rooftops. The stallion was looking around nervously, and Amnesia suppressed a giggle. He was told he’d be found by whomever he was supposed to meet, but still he was acting paranoid. It was just funny for the changeling.
After a couple of turns, Amnesia noted a pattern: her client was taking a right turn first, then a left at the second chance. Right, left, right, left, right left. It was easy to figure out, and easier to calculate where he will be crossing in two minutes. Amnesia hurried forward, and landed in a casual street, observing the display of a jewelry shop. In less than two minutes Buddy turned into the small street. Amnesia stared at him, until he noticed her, then gave him a wink, and left directly in the opposite way than where the pegasus would’ve went according to his pattern. She heard the hasty hoofsteps of the stallion catching up to her, and she stopped for a second.
“I suppose it is you I should be meeting,” Buddy said.
“I suppose it is,” Amnesia replied, and started walking. “Where do you think we should go for a private chat?”
“I suppose the nearby park would do nicely,” Buddy replied. “Take the next street on the right.”
The changeling nodded, and let the pegasus lead the way to the park. Once the two were there, Amnesia found a comfortable spot, and lay down.
“I suppose we get down to business now,” Amnesia said. “So why would a pony ask for his life to be undone?”
“Well... I feel like I’m not even here.”
“I don’t think I get it,” the shifter replied. “You’ll have to explain it better than that.”
“I’m constantly ignored,” Buddy said. “My coworkers don’t listen to me, because I’m a terrible flyer, my ‘friends’ always forget to invite me to parties, or they always forget when my birthday is, and my parents barely write me any letters. I constantly try to keep in contact with everypony around me, and I see it slowly falling apart!”
“You lack self confidence, that’s all! You need to be more confident!” Amnesia tried to talk Buddy out of it, because it seemed that his life wasn’t filled with too much love.
“I can’t be confident!” Buddy replied. “I can’t even fly straight thanks to the fact that my wing broke once, and I don’t have anything exceptional to show up to impress the ladies! I’m a failure, and I need to forget it all!”
“All right, all right, calm down!” Amnesia hushed the pegasus. “Look, I’ll have to think about it for a few days too. Making somepony disappear isn't as easy as one might think. I’ll have to replace you, so you’ll have time to disappear.”
“But how will you replace me?”
“That’s my problem, not yours. Hence why I need time to think. I’ll find you again in a couple of days, and then we’ll talk, all right?”
Buddy slowly nodded, his face filled with sorrow. Whatever confidence he had left, he looked as though he was losing whatever confidence he had left. There was something terrible in his past that made him this withdrawn. The shifter didn’t care about it; it was useless to ask, she'd find out anyways in time.
The two parted ways, and Buddy left the park, his head hanging low. Amnesia truly felt pity for the pegasus, but her own emotions would never keep her fed. She decided she’d stalk the pony for a few days, but she couldn't tell him she planned on following him, as he'd most likely be on his guard. Amnesia took out her diary from her saddlebag, and made a note to stalk her clients next time before she confronted them.
On a rooftop, across the building the pegasus lived in, Amnesia was watching Buddy, go on with his daily activities. The changeling wore another disguise, in case the pegasus were to somehow recognize her previous one. Buddy first read a book, which the changeling found boring, then he cooked some lunch, and after that he finally left his house, with a saddlebag on his back.
Amnesia followed him in the sky, noticing that Buddy never really opened his wings. She heard of pegasi, who were afraid of heights, but then again she watched him stare out his window on the fifth floor. She then remembered, that he mentioned his wing being broken, and suddenly knew a reason why the pegasus wished to forget everything. Aside from a few cases, pegasi barely ever stick to the ground; they preferred flying everywhere; in some rare occasions, if flying was denied to a pegasus, she or he became physically sick.
Since he couldn’t fly straight, it was likely that flying in general was not an option for Buddy. Which made his case even more sad.
Amnesia shook her head; she couldn’t possibly make a decision based on her emotions. No matter how much she pitied the pegasus, her life depended more on whether Buddy had enough ponies loving him in his life.
After a few turns, it seemed obvious, that Buddy was heading towards another park. This one seemed to be the less crowded, since it was more of a public garden, than an actual park. Less ponies visited the place, and those who did, were obviously dressed as the ‘fancy’ type.
Unlike Buddy, who wore a simple saddlebag, and a baseball hat. He was so out of place in that garden, and he managed to become even weirder, when he sat down at the base of a tree, took a book out of his bag, and started reading it. Amnesia was now sitting on a nearby tree’s branch, trying to remain somewhat undetected. Some ponies noticed her, but Buddy was too busy reading to notice her, or to notice the green unicorn mare approaching him.
Even the changeling noticed her too late, and she couldn’t get close enough undetected, to perfectly hear what the two were talking about. What she managed to see despite the distance was that the mare was acting way too sweet; while all Buddy did was hide deeper and deeper behind his book. Soon the mare smiled at Buddy again, and then turned around to leave. Amnesia took flight, and flew between the mare and Buddy, just in time to catch the sweet smell of something.
Leftover love, the changeling thought, landing behind a small bush. Might have some chance of doing this after all.
She trotted to Buddy in the image of a pale-brown pegasus stallion. The other was now again absorbed in his book, and didn’t notice the shifter standing right next to him. Amnesia let out a small cough, and that made the pegasus jump.
“Sweet Celestia, you scared me!” Buddy said, and even in his frustration, he sounded way too polite and shy. “Do I know you, sir?”
“We met this morning,” Amnesia stated. “Mind if I sit down for another small chat?”
Buddy shook his head, and put his saddlebag on his other side, so Amnesia could sit down next to him.
“I’ve been watching you Buddy, and I can tell that you are exceptionally withdrawn,” the changeling said. “Like now; when you were talking to that sweet mare. Who was she?”
“She’s... she’s called Spring Fresh. She tends to the flowers around here. That’s why I usually come here. Because of her.”
“So? Go on, ask her out or something!” Amnesia suggested. “She is obviously interested in you!”
“You think I’m not interested in her?” Buddy snapped in a way much unlike his previous self. “But every time I think about asking her out I remember what almost everypony I ever talked to did!”
“Why, Buddy? What did they do?”
“They never noticed me!” the pegasus cried out. “I work in the Canterlot stadium as part of the cleanup crew. Once I took a one week vacation, and my colleagues completely forgot about me! My boss told me they kept asking who the new guy was! I worked there for eight years now, and everytime I take a small break this regularly happens! The mare in the grocery store? I went to the same store for six years now, and she still can’t remember me! We once talked for almost an hour about what I do for a living, and then the next week she asked me what I do for a living!”
“But she remembers you!” Amnesia retorted. “There still is a chance!”
“But what if I’d wish to take her to a restaurant?” Buddy asked. “What if I’d ask the waiter to make reservations for two, and they would forget, just like everypony forgets what I ever say! Imagine her introducing me to her friends, and imagine her doing this for the rest of her life!”
“So, you can’t fly, and you can’t be remembered,” the changeling concluded. “Therefore you wish to forget it all?”
“Yes,” the pony said, with tears in his eyes. “I wish to forget what it felt like, soaring through the vast open skies, rather than be cursed to not relive it.”
It’s been months now, but whenever I remember, I know: I had nothing more to ask of him. After that day, somewhere in the next week two Buddies traveled to Fillydelhia; one checked in under a fake name in a small hotel, and on the first evening, I became the one and only Buddy, leaving the drooling shell of the once sad pegasus in the caring hooves of the Fillydelphian nurses. I became friends with the colleagues Buddy never could befriend, dated the mare he was scared to ask out, and lived an average life he never could. Migraine and I kept exchanging letters, and I heard from him that a pegasus wielding the name Blue Clover was recovering well from his amnesia.
More than two months have passed since that fateful evening, when I took up the life Buddy decided to throw away. Since then I dated Spring Fresh for a few weeks, and then another mare for a while. I try not to get too attached to the opposite sex of whomever I’m playing, so they won’t come looking for me, and accidentally stumble upon my predecessor. Currently Buddy, or Blue Clover, as the nurse, who tended to him named the pegasus. I hear she got way too attached, and I would hate to fix Buddy’s life again, just because I got too careless.
Anyway, I’m writing this entry now, because Migraine sent another letter, informing me of another possible client – this time a unicorn. So, I memorized the details, and decided to see the next pony who would throw it all away for myself.
The changeling sat on a balcony, staring at the windows of the flat across the street. She was on the balcony of some aristocrat, who decided to take her beauty sleep. Amnesia woke her, and then knocked her out with a spell, just in case. Now she had full access to the balcony, and to the pony’s form; the perfect place and disguise to spy on the residents of the targeted flat. According to Migraine, the pony she was looking for had a grey colored coat, a dark-blue mane, gold eyes and a telescope on his flank. She heard loud talking from the flat, and looked up to see a grey colored unicorn stallion trot into the room across her. Luckily the windows of the said room were open, so she could hear parts of what they were talking about.
“No dear, I can’t see your precious scarf anywhere!” the stallion said. “Are you sure it’s not in the laundry?”
“Yes, I’m sure!” the other participant said, a light tan colored mare with brown mane and tail, and blue eyes, wearing a fancy green dress entered the room. “I couldn’t have just lost it!”
“Maxie, I’m sure we’ll find it somewhere,” the stallion tried to soothe the mare. “You’re wearing enough clothes as it is, you’ll be fine!”
“Oh, Star, you don’t know how these girls can act when a member of the group is... underdressed!”
Star Bright just rolled his eyes, hearing the endless discourse, Amnesia guessed for the thousandth time. He seemed to be a normal stallion, except maybe for being a bit too impatient. The changeling was unsure whether he was about to join Maxie, or just wanted to get rid of her.
“Look, Maxie, we’ll find it later!” Star Bright sighed. “But I have to go to work, and I know if I leave you here you’ll be late too. I suspect that you already are, so I'd feel guilty leaving you here, knowing your day will be ruined because of it!”
“But what am I supposed to do if they notice?” the mare asked with pleading eyes.
“If they ask where your scarf is, say you didn’t bring it to see if they would notice,” Star replied. “Then compliment them on how observant they are!”
Amnesia stopped listening to the driveling of the pair. She noted to herself that it seemed good that the client had a nearby source of love. But then again it could present a problem; if Amnesia were to replace anypony else later on, she might go looking for Star Bright. But problems like these could be solved, with little effort. First, however, Amnesia decided to see the rest of Star Bright’s life for herself, and then decide what to do.
About ten minutes later the stallion left the house, with a saddlebag on his back. Amnesia went back inside, grabbed her saddlebag, changed into the form of a male sky-blue pegasus, and took off, to follow Star undetected. It was harder to stalk him, since he seemed to be in a hurry, and the changeling almost lost sight of him twice. But after quite a few turns, Star seemed to have arrived at his destination; a yellow old-looking office building. She saw the sign above the door, informing everypony that it was the headquarters of the Canterlot Chronicle daily newpaper. The changeling realized that stalking somepony, to see them do their job was sometime a rather hard task. She switched into the image of a pegasus mare, and landed in front of a bakery. The bits she earned as Buddy were now spent on buying some fresh donuts. Then, without delay, she entered the office building.
Inside, she saw a huge reception desk, with security guards on both sides, and a young earth pony colt behind the desk. She went straight for the colt, putting up her most charming act.
“Good morning!” the changeling greeted. She noticed that her voice was a bit too low, and with a small cough, adjusted it to be cuter. “I’m here looking for Star Bright! Maxie sent me to deliver this fresh pack of donuts, expressing her gratitude!”
“Okay, missy, I’ll ask one of the guys,” He replied, and Amnesia noticed his nametag. It said Wisp. “Hey Biceps, wanna escort the lady to the third floor, the office of the statistics nerd?”
“I don’t see why not,” the muscular guard replied. “Come on Miss, it’s this way.”
“Thank you, Wisp!” Amnesia said, adding a friendly wink before she followed the guard.
The two of them took the stairs, and on the third floor they took two left turns, and arrived in a narrow corridor, with three doors. Biceps went to the third door, and knocked.
“Come on in!” the voice of Star Bright yelled, accompanied with the noise of papers shuffling.
“This here Lady wanted to give you a package from Maxie,” Biceps announced after he opened the door, and let Amnesia in.
“Actually I have a personal message for the guy too,” Amnesia cooed in her silkiest manner. “Maybe you think you could wait for me at the end of the corridor?”
“Sure thing, ma’am!” Biceps nodded, closing the door behind as he left.
“Boy, that sure is a nice little box you have to work in!” the changeling said, silently thanking the gods that Star remained silent until Biceps was out of the room. “How many days did you spend here?”
“Do I know you?” the stallion asked. “And what is that package?”
“Oh, right, donuts,” Amnesia replied, dropping the box on Star’s desk. “Bon appetit!”
“Who are you?” Star Bright asked again.
“You may call me the solution,” the changeling answered. “The solution to all your problems.”
“Are you the one Migraine told me to expect?”
“Sure am.”
“I expected a unicorn,” Star retorted somewhat disappointed. “With a long beard, and a saddlebag full of mystical herbs and crystals. Not a schoolfilly with donuts.”
“Never judge a book by its cover, Star Bright,” Amnesia shook her head. “and speaking of books; by your expectations, I’d say you read way too many adventure stories. But enough of this. Time is short, and I just stopped by to tell you: I hope your afternoon is free.”
“Well, I didn’t plan anything –”
“Good. I’ll come find you later!” Amnesia said, stepping out of the office.
Amnesia decided to leave the area of the office, and try to find Maxie. Somehow she thought it would be easy to befriend the mare; a few nicely said compliments, a lot of questions and praising, and it’s all in the bag. And as for questions; the changeling had quite a few about Star Bright. This was the first time when Amnesia could see the other side of the story; see how well Maxie knows Star Bright.
The shifter flew to the windows of the couple’s flat; fortunately they forgot to close them. Once inside, she started looking around. From the first impression of Maxie, Amnesia knew she went off somewhere; a spa, a theater, some garden party or fancy program; and she hoped to find a card, brochure, or piece of note to find out where she might be. After a while, she found a clue, in the most unexpected location.
“Seriously? The fridge? One would think Maxie was a proper lady watching her weight!” the changeling said when she noticed and read the note on the fridge. “Boutique opening on Dragon street today?”
The shifter went to the window, looked around to see if anypony was watching, then took flight, heading to the eastern parts of the city.
Said boutique was a place where Amnesia herself would never willingly go. Ever. But since she was a little short on options, and being Buddy was getting a tad bit too boring, the changeling let out a heavy sigh, and headed into the shop, searching for Maxie. Being a changeling she never could comprehend why ponies wore clothes at all, but now she needed to act like she was interested.
She looked around, and saw the light tan mare along with two other mares. They were currently looking at the skirts, arguing about which one looked better. Now she needed to break the ice, and get them to like her, and talk to her. Or get Maxie to do that, but it was inevitable that her friends will be dragged into this too. She stepped closer, looking at the skirts, acting clueless, thinking about how she could start a conversation.
“Excuse me,” she started, when the trio stopped talking for a microsecond. “You all seem to be very familiar with the latest fashion, mind if I ask you to help me?”
“Of course not!” Maxie replied without hesitation. “What would you like us to help you with, my dear?”
“Well, I’m looking for a skirt.” Amnesia lied fluently. “My friend’s party is in the next week, and I’m trying to impress somepony in the invited crowd; maybe you can help me find the right match for me?”
“Oh dear, I would personally love to help you!” Maxie cheered, and put a hoof around Amnesia. “Now tell me; what is this ‘somepony’ like?”
The changeling answered something, but her mind was completely elsewhere. She succeeded in starting a conversation, and Maxie seemed friendly enough. It was only a matter of time before she could question the mare about her relationship with Star Bright.
A few hours later they were far from the shop, sitting at a bar, talking about something that didn’t really matter to the shifter. She was currently sipping a milkshake, counting how much time she had left, before Star Bright left his office. The minutes slowly dragged on and on and on, until she decided that watching ponies enter and exit a building was far more interesting, than what Maxie and her friends were talking about.
“Oh goodness! I almost forgot!” Amnesia faked panic, grabbing her saddlebag and leaving their table. “I have to pick up my little brother from his music lesson! I’m terribly sorry that I have to leave you in such a hurry, but it is urgent! And thanks again for your help!”
“Wait! You never told us your name!” Maxie yelled after her, but the shifter pretended not to hear it.
Once she was out of sight, she gently landed on a rooftop, and lay down. Her head hurt, after having to listen to such amounts of useless gibberish, but at least she got what she wanted. Turns out Maxie and Star bright had been living together for a month now, but they weren’t married. It seemed that both of them avoided the topic of getting engaged, and that calmed Amnesia a little; she really didn’t wish to play husband for anypony. Maxie and Star knew each other since high school, but it seemed that Maxie had plans of living with a richer stallion. The changeling couldn’t really understand the need for more wealth, but it meant that if she ever wanted to get rid of Maxie, all she had to do was fake bankruptcy, and the changeling was halfway to freedom.
Funny how easy it was to manipulate the emotions of ponies with simple words.
Half an hour later, sitting on yet another rooftop Amnesia finally noticed Star leaving the big office building. The day of the pony was anything but exciting; he was cramped up in a small office, between the walls, the desk and the papers, doing Celestia knows what for a living, just to go home to little Maxie, and hear about how fantastic her day was. Amnesia was sure Star had more friends in his life than what she saw that day, but sometimes ponies tend to forget what a miracle it is to have friends. She knew it first handed, when she left the hive, and again when she started living as Buddy. She got by, but it was hard managing changes in Buddy’s life on the first week.
Now she was stalking Star, thinking about how she could get him to a private place without causing a commotion. The opportunity presented itself, when the stallion entered a small bookshop. Amnesia landed on the streets, and followed her target inside. She saw the grey unicorn standing in front of a shelf, filled with works of fiction. She slowly approached Star, who was busy reading the back of a Daring Do book. With a small cough, she grabbed Star’s attention, who looked at her with a quizzical expression on his face.
“Here?” he asked point-blank. “You really want to talk about it here?”
“No, nutcase. I’m just here to say that if you are done reading that work of fiction, maybe we can get to the real deal.”
“Oh, all right. I’ll be right outside, wait for me there.”
Amnesia let out a disappointed sigh. She was uncertain why she even bothered helping the unicorn, but she really needed a change of scenery; being Buddy had become extremely boring. Plus the work she was doing didn’t really pay much, and it had started to hurt her back recently. A desk job sounded just about ideal now.
In two minutes Star was outside, and they headed for a nearby bar. Once they were there, Star ordered some refreshments for himself, and after the waiter left, he sat back and stared at Amnesia.
“I guess you have questions,” he said after a long pause.
“More than you could imagine,” the shifter replied. “But right now I’ll cut it down to a few. Starting with why?”
“Why?” Star said with a snicker. “Why you ask. Did you see my workplace?”
“Small.”
“That’s no word for it! And my life? Boring! All I do is calculate statistical data everyday! It’s been the same for the last three years! I’m sick of numbers!”
“That’s no reason to throw it all away,” Amnesia remarked.
“Look, you want a reason? Here’s one: I never wanted any of this,” Star leaned closer to her. “I wanted to go on an adventure, see the world, explore! Maybe not like Daring Do, but see something beyond the walls of our culture. I thought that Maxie, or as everypony used to call her back in high school ‘Mad Maxie’ would be my partner in these adventures. But now it seems Maxie is more of an aristocrat than I, the descendant of an old noble family could ever be.”
“So, you want adventures? The deal I offer is that I take away everything you have. Everything. Memories, belongings and so on.”
“I know, I know,” Star Bright replied. “But no life is better than dream of a life you can’t have, and live one you only wish to see in your last nightmares.”
“You haven’t really thought this through, have you?” Amnesia asked.
“I have thought enough about it for the last month.”
“Suit yourself.”
After finalizing some details, we set the place and time of the exchange, and parted ways. In the next week, I took the boring life of Star Bright, and gave him a blank page to write his new life on. Maxie never was suspicious about me, my new job made more bits than the one I previously had, I had more friends, had fun with them, and lived a normal pony’s life. I never could get it in my head why Star Bright threw it away, but after reading the Daring Do books he was so fascinated with, I could figure he was just too foalish for a life this monochrome.
It’s been nine weeks and three days since I left an empty headed unicorn in the distant city of Vanhoover. Since then I’ve been living with Maxie, having fun with my friends, or Star’s friends, and living an ordinary life. Not that I mind being cramped up within four walls to work, but I’ve been trying to figure out how and when to get a small vacation. It seems that the time is near, as it seems somepony is desperately trying to get rid of their lives. And I mean really desperately.
Migraine came to find me personally, and said it was important. I was shocked to say the least, and asked him to give me an hour to prepare everything. Truth be told, I just wanted to write it all down before I disappear behind somepony else’s skin again. And to leave a note to dear Maxie about where and why I went.
I just hope I can make my disappearance a bit less awkward than last time. I really had some good friends this time.
The building housing Migraine’s office seemed cold and empty. Amnesia followed the unicorn quietly; she was wearing the casual disguise of an earth pony mare. It was unlike of Migraine to be this serious; they had met a couple of times, but it was always Amnesia who had asked whether she could visit him for a small chat.
For Migraine to come to her, things must be pretty bad.
“Look, she’s in a really rough condition,” the unicorn said, stopping way before his door. “If you know her, if you have heard of her; don’t mention it. She’s sensitive, and it would be best if you wouldn’t say a word for now.”
“Doc, you’re awfully suspicious,” Amnesia replied. “I’m not used to being kept in the dark.”
“Trust me, once we’re through, you’ll understand. Just stay behind me, and don’t do a thing.”
The changeling realized she didn’t really have a choice in the matter, and nodded. Migraine went to the door, opened it, and then Amnesia heard the sobbing. The two of them hastily entered, just to see a light blue earth pony mare, with orange hair, sobbing on the sofa. Amnesia noticed there were robes thrown all over the room, most of them torn apart. She looked at the pieces of fabric, picking one up with her hoof.
Merciful Celestia, this material...her eyes opened round in surprise. It’s the finest cashmere I ever touched!
She looked at the mare, and saw Migraine trying to calm her. When she seemed to calm down, the unicorn’s horn started to glow, and Migraine put her to a sleep. He then gestured to the changeling to follow him into the kitchen.
“Who is she?” Amnesia asked quietly, once Migraine locked the door behind them. “Those pieces of fabric must have come from some pretty expensive clothes!”
“I see you didn’t recognize her,” the other replied. “Maybe this will jog your memory: her name is Giselle.”
“Giselle... You mean the supermodel? Who works for Photo Finish?” the changeling was shocked. “But how? Why?”
“The how is easier: she became my regular patient the moment she was employed by Ms. Finish,” Migraine explained, taking out a cup to get himself some coffee. “I diagnosed her with Social Anxiety Disorder a few months ago.”
“She’s afraid of social situations? But she’s a model! The paparazzi must be literally on her tail every minute!”
“Indeed.” Migraine nodded, seeing that the changeling finally understood.
Amnesia dropped on her flank. She had the option to help the young pony. But it wouldn’t change her policies: the client must willingly offer their life. She wouldn’t wish to be branded as a parasite; she had her services to offer, and it was only business.
“I want to hear her story first,” she stated.
“I’ll try to convince her to tell you when she wakes up,” Migraine offered. “Until then the only thing I can offer you are my notes on her condition.”
“I’ll read those, thank you.”
The changeling sat next to the kitchen table, with Migraine’s notes spread on it. She picked up another page, just to read what she already seen herself. In the last few weeks, Giselle’s condition had turned from bad to worse; she came more and more often to the unicorn for help; and among the lines she noticed that the model started to have problems with her employer too.
Amnesia dropped the paper with a sigh; she couldn’t ever stalk this pony. Being a supermodel was something many changelings dreamed of: constant attention, all the love one could eat, and the accommodations were told to be heavenly. Of course, no changeling could truly replace any models; they never had the natural talent those ponies had. But Amnesia had her set of skills, skills that might help her stay true to her act, and live the dream of every changeling. And even if things didn’t turn out well she could always go back to being Star Bright.
Even if it wasn’t too polite to just abandon her work. A frown crept onto Amnesia’s face. She knew that taking this job would be her ultimate test.
“She asked for you,” Migraine announced. Amnesia jumped a little; the unicorn must have sneaked up on her while she was staring at the blank wall.
“I’ll be there in a second.”
Migraine nodded, and left without a sound. It was the first time Amnesia saw him this serious, and it sent chills down her spine. She stood up, took a last glimpse at the notes, and then turned to face the broken mare.
“She’s here, and she agreed to help you, if you tell her your story,” Migraine whispered to Giselle. The mare only replied with quiet sobs. “I’ll be here, right next to you; you don’t need to be afraid of either of us.”
Amnesia watched as Migraine stepped aside, and she herself could finally face the mare. As Giselle opened her eyes, the changeling barely noticed the beautiful shade of purple; they were so red from the hours of crying. She put up a reassuring smile, and tried her best not to scare the mare.
“Hi,” the changeling said quietly after a long pause. Giselle was still sobbing, and Amnesia noticed her grasping Migraine’s hoof. “I’m sorry, but I need to hear why you want me to do this to you; I am unable to do anything until you tell me.”
Giselle looked away, and slowly nodded. The mare let out a heavy sigh, and with a shaking voice she started to talk.
“I...I never wanted to do this,” she said. “It was six months ago. My parents and I lived in Dodge City; near the badlands. They bought a farm there when I was little, and to this very day they pay their debt to the pony who loaned them the bits to buy it. I helped them on the farm for a long while; but lately we had some bad years. Crops didn’t grow too well, income wasn’t as much as we needed; but we still owed the debt, and we needed to pay it. So one day it turns out that Ms. Finish was looking for a new model. And I thought... I thought...”
“You thought it would be easy money, right?” Amnesia asked, and Giselle nodded.
“The first month wasn’t that bad; I got a flat here in Canterlot, Ms. Finish introduced me to Migraine, who told me to ask him if I need anything, and all I had to do was wear fancy clothes, and make a pose for the camera.” Giselle looked at the floor, tears starting to flow from her eyes. “Then I saw myself on the front-page of a newspaper, and my life... my life turned upside down!”
The mare started crying again, Amnesia couldn’t stand it anymore; she stepped closer and hugged her. Giselle let her tears flow endlessly, while the changeling gently stroked her back with a hoof. Amnesia didn’t know when she would stop, but right now she didn’t care.
“Why didn’t you quit?” the changeling asked, once Giselle calmed down a bit.
“My parents still need the money! I couldn’t quit; I love them too much to quit!” She sobbed. “I tried my best to endure it for another month, but I just can’t bear it any longer! There are ponies always following me, I can hear the cameras clicking in my dreams, and I can’t walk a mile without being followed by a group of fans everywhere! There are ponies spreading gossip about me, and I can’t do anything about it! I just want to help my family, but all I have now is a life I can’t live any longer!”
Amnesia kept hugging her, for a while. She needed to speak with Migraine, but in her mind, she had already decided.
“I need you to do a favor for me,” Amnesia said, once she was alone with Migraine. “And for her too.”
“I’m listening.”
“I want you, to send her home.”
“Are you nuts?!” the unicorn replied, almost yelling. “Did you even consider how much this could compromise your very own business? Not to mention mine?”
“Yes, I did,” she replied calmly. “And you did too, when you came to me this morning. We both know that she loves her parents more than anything. I can’t replace her forever, and when I disappear, her parents will inevitably spend every last bit they have to find her; and they will fail, because we always cover up our tracks. Do you really want two innocent lives ruined, just because of a selfish decision?”
“And what about our life?”
“What about it? I can adapt to many things; and if you really need my help, I’d be willing to assist you too.” Amnesia stepped closer to the unicorn. “Either you help me the way I say so, or you can watch her drown in her sorrow.”
Migraine took a shocked step back, and dropped on his flank. He slowly considered his options, but Amnesia already knew the outcome. He slowly looked at the changeling, and nodded.
“I’ll figure out how to disappear, once the time comes,” she added, reassuring the psychologist, before she walked into the living room, back to Giselle.
I never really cared why I decided to help Giselle; I just wanted to. Migraine took her back to her parents. I wrote them a long letter, explaining what happened and what will happen. I regularly sent them money, and kept in touch with them. I still remember the first letter they wrote, asking why should they accept my money. I thought about a long and thorough answer, but after a day of thinking, I sent only one sentence as a reply:
“Your daughter made sure I have everything I need; I make sure to give her the same.”
I can’t believe it! Since day one I feel absolutely full with the love of everypony! I am in the middle of everypony’s attention, and it keeps me so well fed, that sometimes I can barely walk; I feel so full. I have severed every direct connection with Giselle’s parents, since I’ve paid my debt to them, and now I only hear from them when they write to Migraine.
Recently I've become the close friend of some important ponies, and through them I’ve managed to get everypony to forget about Giselle’s family. So in the past two weeks I gave the gossip writers some juicy material to write in their columns. Since then, I have earned more love than any changeling could’ve ever imagined.
On the dark side of things, my so called employer, Ms. Finish is, to put it mildly, an ass. The hag runs off everytime she thinks she’s done, making me chase her for my payment. Or there was this one case, when I was dressed up in the fanciest clothes anypony could ever imagine, decorated with at least a dozen fragile crystals, and she exclaimed that the background wasn’t fitting, and the entire crew, lead by Photo Finish ran off somewhere. And of course they expected me to run too. I think the fact that the accessories were fragile didn’t ever occur to them.
I have endured this life for almost three months now. Migraine has another client, and I need some change. I perfectly understand why Giselle wanted to get rid of this.
I honestly have no idea how she managed to survive this for six months.
Amnesia closed her diary. She looked at the letter lying on her bed, telling her about some other poor folk wishing for a change. Honestly she planned to go sooner, just as soon as she figured out how. But now, she was uncertain about her previous plans; thinking about them more made it seem less like a “good” plan.
In fact, the changeling felt more than desperate; lately Photo Finish had become unbearable. But she still didn’t want to go out in a way that would risk Giselle’s new life. Suddenly she came up with a near perfect scheme. She grabbed a parchment and a quill, and began fabricating a letter. A letter from some imaginary unicorn, who just happened to be making potions that enabled other unicorns to change their appearance. And this certain unicorn was writing about the fact that his supplies have just ran out. Permanently. So all Amnesia had to do now was make sure it gets a wide public attention; pick another disguise, make a scene during her work, leave the letter somewhere where they find it, and run off crying to Celestia knows where. Luckily, Ms. Finish had an appointment that day with the gabby gums of the Canterlot Secrets; one of the most famous gossip magazine.
Luck seems to have smiled on her once again.
Okay, so maybe her plan wasn’t really foolproof. Like maybe she didn’t take into account that they might bring along a photographer. Who just happened to be a pegasus. And a good flyer.
Escaping now became a bit more difficult than she had previously imagined.
“Leave me alone!” She yelled, taking another tight turn.
“Oh, for goodness’ sake, could you stop! I just want a picture!”
Back in the hive Amnesia had learned about many cultures. Griffon culture was among them. She wished ponies would have fingers; then she could use the obscene gesture she learned back in the hive.
Her lungs were burning, and she was getting really tired; she noted to herself that a little workout now and then wouldn’t hurt in the future. She then saw the perfect chance to escape.
A group of tourists were just entering a restaurant. No doubt some ponies had the need to use the bathrooms. Amnesia dashed into the restaurant, along with the tourists, looked around, and immediately headed for the restrooms. Once inside, she caught her breath, changed forms, and waited. Since she was sure the pegasus was still outside, she needed to stay put for a while.
Quite a while.
After her rough morning, Amnesia was finally on the path of getting another life. Paparazzi gone, endless attention and love gone too, but at least now she was rid of Photo Finish too. She decided that since she had become Giselle, she didn’t have the chance to visit Migraine. And it would be a good opportunity to hear more about this new client.
Once there, she listened at the door for a small while, trying to guess if there was somepony else inside, but when she failed, she simply knocked on the door. After a small while, she heard Migraine’s heavy footsteps closer and closer.
“Yes?” the unicorn asked, slightly opening the door.
“It’s me, Migraine! I got your letter!” Amnesia replied. “Is this a bad time?”
“Oh, Amnesia! Come right in!” he opened the door. “I was just reading some newspapers.”
“I guess you’ll read about me in it tomorrow,” the changeling jested, entering the pony’s domain. “How are you these days? I’m sorry I didn’t have the opportunity to visit you. Model life and all that.”
“I understand. And mentioning Giselle: she’s recuperating nicely. Her parents are still somewhat disappointed and unbelieving; but they are also grateful for the return of their daughter.”
“I’m glad to hear.” Amnesia sat on the sofa. “You still afraid?”
“Every time somepony knocks, I imagine the royal guards on the other side of the door.” He said, disappearing in the kitchen. “But otherwise I’m fine, thank you.”
“Hey, if you get caught, I’ll bust you out.”
“Because being an escaped criminal is such a promising future,” Migraine replied with an ironic laugh.
“We could be Whinny and Cldyesdale!” Amnesia added with a giggle. “Oh come on, it’ll never happen!”
“I believe you wish to know more about the next client?” the stallion asked, returning with a cup of coffee.
“You know me too well.”
Migraine slowly nodded, taking a seat in his armchair.
“Wait, you mean this guy has more love than a model did? How?” Amnesia asked, after Migraine finished the short explanation.
“Well, mares say he’s cute to the point where he’s irresistible, and I’ve spent several days with him, watching him trying to shoo away mares like others do with flies,” the stallion explained. “He’s actually an old friend of mine.”
“So, how come he wants to throw it all away?” Amnesia was more than puzzled.
“Well, bad luck seems to follow him everywhere.” Migraine replied.
“You mean he’s like Buddy?”
“Similar, but not exactly. Buddy was depressed; Silver Script is not. He’s just terribly unlucky. Or to be more exact, terrifyingly unlucky.”
“Terrifyingly?” the changeling was a bit shocked.
“He lost his parents at a young age; he lived with his grandparents, until they passed when their house burned down,” Migraine put his empty cup down. “He moved to Canterlot, to live with his aunt, who lost her job not soon after. He was forced to live in an orphanage, while his aunt tried to make money; she had little success. The only foalhood friend he had died in some rare disease; he didn’t even had the bits to buy a train ticket and visit her. I could go on with the endless misery that seems to follow him; I’m actually quite surprised he’s hiding his pain so well.”
“I think I get why he’s willing to let go so easily. I don’t blame him.” Amnesia said.
“I don’t think you do. You see; your reaction is exactly what drives him mad.”
“My reaction?”
“He’s not keeping his misery a secret.” Migraine replied. “He actually thinks that talking about it will make it easier for him to accept it. But then, ponies are compassionate beings; they all feel pity for him. And that’s what bugs him.”
“You mean, the extra attention because everypony tries to make him comfortable can be annoying? I’m shocked.”
“This is no joke. He thinks he can hit two flies with one blow.”
“I’ll go talk to him.”
The changeling was back on the rooftops of Canterlot. She might not have actually ever lived there, but she always liked the sight. It made her more comfortable; being able to observe everything.
She noticed the purple pegasus spending time with his friends; (the v. it was the) first time Amnesia actually witnessed somepony living happily . But then again, if he was truly happy, he wouldn’t wish for her services.
She followed the group of ponies from above; she didn’t really need to hide, since they were too occupied talking to each other. After taking a long walk, having some fun in the park and having a drink at a nearby bar, Amnesia was more than convinced that he had good friends.
Good and loving friends.
What she was unconvinced about was the fact that he wanted to throw it away. For Buddy to throw it away, she understood that. Star Bright too, even if he was a bit too irrational and foalish. Giselle’s case was no question either. But this one.
Silver Script had a seemingly perfect life; he was a script writer and a director of a small acting group; a decent job. He had a lot of friends too, she saw it first hoofed.
“Why?” Silver script asked back.
Amnesia was sitting in front of the stallion. The two of them were at a small restaurant; the changeling picked the place this time. Silver Script had light grey mane and tail and blue eyes; Amnesia had to admit he looked pretty cute.
“I won’t take a life for a reason I don’t know,” she explained. “And as far as I know there is no going back. So yes, I want to know: why?”
“What did Migraine tell you?”
“What does it matter?” Amnesia asked back, but the stallion’s eyes pierced her. “He told me of your past, and what he thinks is the reason.”
Silver Script looked away. The changeling noticed he was looking at the small fountain decorating the center of the restaurant. She prayed that the pony wouldn’t start some artistic nonsense.
“Do you know what it’s like to remember everything? To see it all play out before you no matter where you look?” he asked after a long pause. “I live my life trying to get rid of the painful memories. But I look at my friends, and all I see is that they’re concerned for me. They want me to ease up, but all they do is remind me of all the bad things that happened.”
“Have you tried talking to them about it?” Amnesia tried to calm him down.
“And what would I tell them?” Silver Script inquired in a cold voice. “Sorry you remind me of my dead mother, so please stop?”
Amnesia recoiled in shock; she might have been used to being treated like this, but that was long ago, back in the hive. She never expected a pony to be like this.
“I’m – ” she started.
“ – sorry, right?” Silver said. “Everypony is. Always. I’m sick of it.”
The changeling looked away; she couldn’t stand the blue eyes of the stallion pinning her to the chair she was sitting on.
“If you want to help; we both know what you should do.”
So I did. I took all the pain, the memories, the excruciating past, present and future Silver Script had, or what he ever would have had. I carried on with his life, wrote plays with his name on it; but never had to suffer the pain he suffered, whenever I looked at his friends.
But sometimes, I willingly remember his past; just to reflect on what I have, and appreciate every minute of it.
Being Silver Script wasn’t all that bad. I got a lot of extra attention, life was good, and even when I was a bit uninspired, I could always count on my friends to help me. Or cider.
Boy,I have recently became addicted to cider; the single most delicious beverage I have ever tasted. I’ve tasted martinis, whiskeys, wines, but cider! It’s simply the best!
But this isn’t heaven, and so it has it’s downsides as well. Business has been getting a bit rough, and even though I offered more of the income to my colleagues, my actors, I’m close to being broke. And to add to the trouble: my dear queen decided to invade Canterlot. There was some sissy royal wedding I couldn’t care less about, and my queen decided to sabotage it. It was over in one day, but I was almost crushed by the huge pink shield, that blew my brothers away. My only luck was that I locked myself in my apartment; even then I was almost squished, and my body left a pretty noticeable mark on the wall.
Seems like it hasn’t affected my true business though; fate has again decided to favor me with other ponies, Migraine has sent me yet another proposal. I’ve got an offer from some pony named Royal Riff too, that he would like to employ my actors for his musicals. His only condition was that he didn’t really need a director for it. He was pretty straightforward, so I didn’t hold his condition against him, but back then I said no. Maybe I’ll look him up, and accept his offer; my friends would be better off, and so would I.
The changeling approached the huge building of the district mayor; Migraine mysteriously said that she would know who she’s looking for when she got there. He said her newest client could be noticed immediately upon entering the building.
Amnesia let out a sigh; Migraine was sweet for trying to spice up her life, but it was becoming ridiculous. A job was a job, not a stupid game. And of course, she was thinking during her walk there: why would a receptionist want to throw her life away.
She entered the building, and before she could have even looked around, she immediately noticed a painting. A huge, imposing painting, hanging above the reception desk, picturing an elderly gray mare, holding a scroll in one hoof, and a quill in her other. Under the painting there was a small brass plate, on it the name of the painter was engraved, and a message, thanking the services of some Milady Prosper. Then everything clicked into place for the changeling: she was looking for the district mayor.
“Oh boy,” she whispered. “Talk about high expectations.”
The changeling was sitting at a café, sipping some hot chocolate, thinking about her life. She thought being Giselle was tough; being a model, acting perfect and all. But this mare was something bigger; if somepony decided to give her a painting that big out of pure gratitude, things were becoming serious. Plus, with the recent changeling invasion, one small slip could cost her more than just a job.
She let out a sigh; she had been sitting there sighing for more than an hour now. Amnesia was uncertain of what to do. On one hoof, she needed the money; she could get more for this job than for any of her previous ones. She was well fed with love lately, but after a while that could be a problem too. Only by getting a fireproof life could she ever hope to survive on a long term scale.
And this life seemed as fireproof, as a house built on an active volcano.
Although, she thought Maybe I should speak with her. Who knows? Maybe it’s not that hard being a mayor.
She looked up at the cafe’s window, just to see a reflection of her disguise; she was wearing her usual pink pegasus ‘outfit’.
After all, she’s just another pony.
Amnesia went back into the reception hall, to face the painting again. This time however, it didn’t bother her, and she walked directly to the receptionist’s desk. Behind it sat a young mare, reading a magazine. The changeling let out a small cough.
“How may I help you?” she asked.
“I’d like to ask when Mayor Milady Prosper can be visited?” she replied with a charming smile.
“If you’d like I could ask her right now,” she stood up. “Why would you like to see her?”
“It’s private,” Amnesia said with a sheepish smile.
“All, right, I’ll ask her.”
She turned around and left Amnesia alone with the painting. Being alone, she couldn’t avoid looking at it. If she takes this job, it’ll be her face on that wall; Milady Prosper’s responsibilities would become hers, adding to the long list of responsibilities of being a changeling. For the first time ever the question of why should she become her client was way heavier than why said client would throw it all away.
“She’ll see you right away!” the receptionist said, startling Amnesia. The changeling never noticed her return. “It’s the last door in that corridor. You can’t miss it!”
“Thank you,” she replied, heading in the direction of her possible future life.
The corridor was empty; walking down it, she could see no reason to become the mayor in the first place. Love didn’t seem to just fall out of the sky, like in Giselle’s case, and friends visiting the mayor during daytime seemed pretty far fetched. And if the mayor had foals, which Amnesia hoped she didn’t, then it would be definitely a no-deal.
She approached the entrance of the mayors office in total silence. The huge dark double-doors looked so heavy, the changeling was actually wondering when their hinges would give away, so they could crush her. She shyly raised a hoof, and gently knocked on the door.
“Come in please!” a gentle voice answered her knock.
She entered, and saw the mare from the painting; an old lady; her coat grey, her mane a fading shade of dark purple with some grey tufts, her eyes light green. She was wearing glasses, which made her look all the more proper. She closed the door, and took a seat on the chair in front of her desk.
“I’ve heard you’ve been looking for me,” Amnesia began.
“I’ve heard my dear receptionist tell me the same about you,” she jested with a smile. “I guess you are the famous changeling, Amnesia.”
“I hope I’m not famous,” she replied, her eye twitching a little at the fact she knew her real name. “I’m the one usually stalking my clients, not the other way around. How did you find out?”
“I know Migraine better than the back of my hoof,” the mare answered. “And he knows me just as much too. He knows I’m trustworthy; after all, I entrusted my worst secrets to him.”
“And now you want to get rid of every secret.”
“Yes,” she replied, taking off her glasses. “I’ve lived far too long; seen too many friends pass away. But my ponies need me; I need to attend some small event every week, and they are the ones asking me to be there. But I’m old, and I wish to mourn for the friends I’ve lost. I wish to just let go of myself, and cry on their graves. Do you know, what it’s like to truly lose a friend?”
The changeling shook her head.
“It’s sad. But what’s worse, is when you cry, and ponies assume the worst. I attended to the funeral of many old friends, and many new ones too. Accidents happen, and I blame nopony for that. But in my position, I can’t let them see me cry. I can’t show them that the pony responsible for managing their daily lives is a weak old mare. So I beg of you: please help us. Keep their spirits up, until I disappear; try to find a replacement.”
Amnesia looked at her hooves. She wasn’t the leading type; she always followed others, or separated herself from them. Leading wasn’t in her life ever. But a set of skills like that could come in handy later, and Milady Prosper assured her that there was food in it for her. Life as a mayor maybe wasn’t so bad.
“I accept your offer,” the changeling finally said.
After I stole her life, I made sure she was taken care of by the best. I only realized it too late, why she really wanted to forget her past; she lost her husband and son; both nearly a month ago. I remembered being her on their funeral; all those eyes watching her, trying to take a peek under her mask. And she never could drop a single tear; she could never show any sign of weakness, because they needed her to show strength.
I walk into that hall, look at the painting everyday, and feel the crushing weight of her responsibilities on my shoulders. I thought Giselle was strong before; but I could easily become her. Milady Prosper was another case.
I’ve made sure that Milady Prosper, or as she was now called: Lady Cinder, had her chance to start a new life, before I asked Migraine whether there were any possible customers. That’s right; I asked him. Don’t get me wrong, there was ample food, and I had earned enough bits; what I couldn’t stand were the ponies.
Everypony I ever was had their small circle of friends (except Buddy), who they loved spending time together, but didn’t bother each other during work. Now it turns out that there were many ponies, who would just come in, and bother me during work for a small chat. And when I say ‘small chat’ it’s in a very ironic way.
There were days, when I couldn’t leave my office for a long while, because of all the ponies waiting, just to tell me the recent news of their mundane lives. And during those long times, I couldn’t read or sign a single paper. And believe me, there was plenty of paperwork.
Due to these annoying visits I needed to take my work home, just to do what I was supposed to do in my office. I had pretty short rests, and by every Friday, I was plumb tuckered out.
So after being the mayor of this district, I wrote to Migraine about planning to resign as Milady Prosper. He responded with a possible case; so I decided to leave without a second thought.
The night club was full of ponies. Not like Amnesia herself didn’t look like a pony, but she wasn’t one, and she didn’t like being squashed in a tight sweaty, stuffed place by large groups of ponies. Except if they somehow would feed her. Unfortunately they were here for the show of one of Canterlot’s best musician, DJ-PON3. Amnesia really didn’t know what the fuss was all about. She hated this kind of music, since she had only attended a few concerts with Maxie back in the days, and another few events with live music during her previous lives, but never anything this loud. Her eardrums were about to burst, when suddenly everything went silent. She looked around confused, just to see the stage completely lit up bright, a white unicorn with huge sunglasses and spiky blue mane raising her hooves in the air.
“Are you ready to party?” she yelled, and not even waiting for an answer she turned the volume to the maximum.
The changeling had only two theories. One: this unicorn wanted to make her and everypony else deaf. Two: she couldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer. Either way the loud music hurt Amnesia; she hoped that the pony she was after worked with some sort of ear protection, because this was beyond unbearable.
With her hooves covering her ears she watched the show; ponies were going crazy on the dance floor, the lights were flashing, and the music was deafening. Migraine told her to keep a lookout for the pony managing the light-show, but she couldn’t see a thing. It took two hours for the show to finish. Afterwards, she walked out from behind her instruments, and waved for someone off-stage to come on up. Amnesia noticed a pony with similar huge sunglasses as the DJ’s, and a spiky black mane climbing up the stairs. Grabbing the microphone in her magic, the white unicorn introduced her show partner, the grayish-teal colored pony, who was wearing a black shirt and a white tie.
“Mares and colts, may I introduce you the master of all illumination; Neon Lights!” a huge applause followed her words. “Thank you! Thank you all!”
They theatrically bowed, and then left the stage together. This was the first time Amnesia could observe the pony she would become without disturbance. She felt the huge amount of love and affection from all their fans; it was comparable to what she tasted as Giselle. But in her case, love was usually tainted by a speck of jealousy.
Now she only needed to find this pony, and question him.
After several unsuccessful attempts to get behind the stage, the changeling gave up. She would eventually find him, should he leave the building, but she was unsure if Neon would use the back entrance. As the front entrance was always busy, with ponies coming and going; finding a single pony in the darkness, who she could only see for a split second was almost impossible. She dropped on her flank, trying to gather her thoughts.
Just as she was about to fly up and take a look at the rear entrance, she noticed a group of tough bodyguard ponies making way in the mass. Soon a taxi carriage arrived in front of the building and a familiar white unicorn and a grayish-teal unicorn boarded the vehicle. Amnesia looked around; there was little chance that somepony would be watching her, but she couldn’t be too careful. She then dropped her disguise, changing back into her old form; the black chitin would be a better camouflage during nighttime.
The carriage rolled away into the silent Canterlot night, its passengers unaware of the buzzing shadow following them. For Amnesia, it wasn’t difficult; there were few carriages around this late. She saw the taxi pull up to a building, and the white unicorn left the vehicle, along with her bodyguards. Now the only passenger was Neon, and Amnesia moved a bit closer, since the chance of being spotted dropped to a minimum. She watched as the carriage pulled up to another house a few blocks away, and this time Neon got off the carriage. He paid the taxi-pony and turned around to enter the building.
Amnesia waited until he was inside and snuck closer. She changed into a coal-black pegasus, and started flying circles around the building. She saw that many of the flats had balconies, and figured she could enter the building through one of them, when she finally figure out where Neon was living. The changeling tried to guess which window or balcony could’ve belonged to Neon’s flat, when she saw one of the balconies lit up, and soon there was the unicorn standing outside. He was looking at the silent Canterlot, not wearing his sunglasses or any other accessories anymore. Neon hasn’t noticed the changeling yet, so Amnesia silently landed behind him.
“Are you always this alone?” the changeling asked after a long silence.
Neon jumped a little; the sudden visitor startled him. Amnesia dropped on her flank, and gave him a reassuring smile.
“Who are you?” he asked finally, when his breathing was normal. He was still holding his chest with a hoof, like he was trying to keep his heart in place.
“Migraine sent me?” Amnesia replied. “I’m who he mentioned.”
“Mig...? The doc?”
“If that’s what you call him, then yeah. Unicorn, yay-high, dark brown color?”
“It’s you,” Neon said, his eyes round in shock.
“By Starswirl’s beard, where do you get all these magnificent lines?” Amnesia cried out. “Yes, it’s me, I stated it a second ago, what is wrong with you?”
“I’m just not used to be visited like this,” he replied. “Most of my fans don’t even know where I live, yet they claim to know more about me than I do. Part of why I hate being the center of attention.”
“Okay, look: you had a long night. I had a long night too. How about you act polite, offer me a place on the couch, and we all go to sleep, ‘kay?”
“And talk in the morning?” Neon asked. “No funny business until then?”
“Are you hoping for something? Because no; I don’t do ‘funny business’.” Amnesia stated. “Look, I can’t go back where I slept last night; if I’m found there, it’ll blow everything. So be a dear, and show me the couch please.”
The stallion nodded, and headed inside. Amnesia followed him, silently thanking the heavens that Neon hadn’t started boring her with his problems. Sure she was there to solve said problems, but then again, it’s not like she could do it tonight.
The changeling spread out on the couch, letting out a long yawn. When she opened her eyes, she saw Neon watching her.
“What?” she asked.
“You’re exactly what I expected,” Neon replied. “Cocky, selfish, manipulative. Just what ponies picture changelings.”
“Should I say the same about you?” Amnesia asked back. “You’re not the first one to throw it all away; you’re the sixth. I took the lives of a friendless pegasus, an adventurer locked up in an office, a model with social anxiety disorder and so on. They were all ponies; I’ve seen such variety of your kind that I could describe a perfect picture of any of you by just a look.”
“Try me,” the stallion said.
“Judging by your partners popularity and the stuff you say, I’d conclude that you are one of, if not the best in your line of art. But since the life you live depends on gathering inspiration, you have nowhere to go without feeling like you copy somepony. The lightshow you made for tonight had a lot of red, orange and blue. I’d guess it’s because it’s all you see from here; blue buildings, and red and orange sky early in the morning.”
Neon squinted his eyes, and Amnesia knew she was on the right track.
“You lack inspiration, and the number of performances per month will only rise from here on. You can’t just go out and relax, to expand your mental capacity, because DJ-PON3 needs you, and if you would she’d have to cancel her shows for a while. Or look for a replacement.”
“We’re friends; she would never replace me!” the stallion snapped.
“And that just makes it all the more sad, doesn’t it?” the changeling asked. “You won’t leave her side out of loyalty, and she wouldn’t stop because you are there. Your performance will worsen, until you will start to disappoint your best friend who relies on you so much. So you want to quit without her knowing it.”
“How did you – ?”
“I have been stalking DJ-PON3 for a while; you wouldn’t believe how easy it is to follow the trail of paparazzi. I saw you sit in parks, trying to take notes of anything that could inspire you, but you’re locked up in Canterlot. I saw you try to talk to DJ-PON3, without success. I know you better than you do Neon Lights.”
“So why haven’t you replace me yet?”
“You hadn’t asked me to replace you yet,” Amnesia said.
“I do.”
“You do what?”
“I want to be replaced,” Neon stated. “I’m running low on ideas; I’ve tried my best, but my closest fans noticed that I’m starting to lose my... spark, so to say. Figured someone else, like you, would have more inspiration.”
“Then why haven’t you just told that to Vinyl?” the changeling asked.
“You think I could?”
“Oh, right, that’s because you ponies are all the same; polite to the point where you’d rather hurt yourselves, just to avoid hurting your friends.” Amnesia replied in a cynical voice. “Do you want the ugly truth, Neon?”
The stallion bit his lips, and slowly nodded.
“You hurt them more, by making them watch you suffer because of your weakness. And escaping the decision to tell her, makes me wish I could throw up, just to show you how disgustingly cowardly that resolution is.”
Amnesia had nothing more to say; she closed her eyes, and lay down to sleep.
The next morning Neon Lights asked me about the details of the exchange. I honestly, truly hoped he wouldn’t go through with it. But I’m here to accept the lives they throw away, and make the best of it.
Even when I know I can’t.
I pity all those whom I left behind, clients or not. All I did was give a chance to somepony that nopony ever knew. Migraine and I were the only ones who could see this side of them; they trusted us more than they trusted their friends.
All I did was do what they asked me to; I lived their lives how they intended to live it, yet failed to do so.
And that’s why they wanted me to take over; because their lives were not in their hooves anymore.
Twilight closed the diary, and looked at the sleeping changeling on the couch. She looked nothing like the vicious bugs she and her friends fought during the royal wedding. But the princess knew she was one. If she wouldn’t have had left the hive thanks to her talent, she would’ve stayed loyal to them and helped them during the invasion. In that case Twilight would have already reported her to the guards. But this wasn’t the case.
On one hoof, Amnesia stole other ponies lives, and through replacing them she fed off of their friends, families and everypony she could. But on the other hoof, those ponies weren’t feeling satisfied with their lives. They were, as Amnesia said, too weak to change anything; and that’s where the changeling lend them her helping hoof. Amnesia might not have been perfect, but she never truly stole anypony’s life; they gave it to her, knowing the consequences, knowing what it would cost them and everypony around them.
Despite the consequences, they agreed to her terms. Twilight was unsure of Amnesia’s innocence, but according to her diary, she wasn’t guilty either.
“Finished reading?” Migraine asked, holding a tray with cups of coffee on it.
“Yes.”
“Coffee?” the psychologist offered and Twilight accepted. “What did you find?”
“A lot of things,” she replied. “But not what I was looking for.”
“You were looking for a proof that she was guilty,” Migraine said, taking a seat in an armchair. “And yet found none.”
“But I didn’t find proof that she was innocent either!”
“What counts as innocence, Princess Twilight?” the stallion asked, taking a sip from his coffee. “She’s a changeling; you can’t just expect her to make friends out of the blue. They evolved this way for a reason. At least she didn’t kidnap anypony against their will, and forced them into a cave, so she could live their life.”
“That may be true, but she still could’ve tried to make friends!”
“Put yourself in her horseshoes for a second: she was trying to hide from her hive and live a life. This way she got the best of two worlds. Or do you think that the changeling queen would’ve just let one of her subjects roam openly in Equestria? Until the royal wedding nopony even knew changelings existed; and the queen would’ve certainly made sure it stayed that way no matter what.”
Twilight lowered her head; Migraine had a point. Not only that, the psychologist proved another valid fact: that Twilight was still unable to feel empathy towards the changeling. She was lying there, waiting for somepony to help her, and Twilight was still trying to ignore her calls for help.
“I have searched Amnesia’s saddlebag, and found a letter,” Migraine said suddenly. “It was addressed to me, but after I read it, I thought maybe you would wish to see it too. I don’t know when she wrote it, but I think that hardly matters now.”
He held out a folded piece of paper, and Twilight took it with her magic. She slowly unfolded it, and took a look at the letter; she immediately noticed the way the letter was written. The letters were nothing like the ones in the diary; these were written with shaking hooves; it was full of smudges and corrections, but the most important part of it was still legible.
Dear Migraine!
We fear that we’re close to an end. We don’t know what kind of end that might be, but we know it’s the end of everything. We should’ve known sooner. We should’ve known better.
‘Amnesia’ never existed. The moment she accidentally stole the memories of Fizzler, a changeling that used to prank her in the hive, she stopped existing. Amnesia only lived a short life, and when she made that poor decision of getting revenge on Fizzler, she paid a heavy price for it; her decisions were no more hers alone.
From that point, everything was a downward spiral; a tragic ending more and more inevitable by every passing moment. And now we realize what foolish decisions we made. Because when we thought that Amnesia ended, that she had disappeared beneath the abundance of memories we have gathered from more and more ponies, we were mistaken.
She was the one pushing us to gather more and more memories; the one trying to make it so crowded, that inevitably we were all crying for help. She knew we were weak alone, but when she pulled us here together, we started working towards the same end. Her end.
She wanted to die for so long, wanted to disappear, but we wouldn’t let her. We were stronger, but she was smarter. And when we finally knew what she was trying to do, it was too late. She mixed us, those so many little ponies into one. So many different lives, but all with the same aim in the end: to forget it all.
We wish it could’ve been better. We wish it could’ve gone in another way. But a changeling is a changeling; they manipulate, whether you want them or not. But we are not changelings; and along with Amnesia, we now all want the same.
Find a way to erase it. To erase it all. We want to disappear. To forget and never be reminded. We want Amnesia.
We want her, to have a second chance.
“What could this mean?” Twilight asked.
“To be honest? Not sure,” Migraine replied. “My best theory, to be honest, is that Amnesia herself was a weak changeling. When she accidentally stole the memories of this ‘Fizzler’, the influence of his memories practically suppressed Amnesia's own thoughts and decisions. From that moment Amnesia' s true personality tried to manipulate everything to the point where she could end it all. Fizzler probably wanted to feed on ponies, so Amnesia steered his intentions towards an end, where she could gather enough ponies with the same intention; gather enough personalities that every other aim becomes irrelevant, except the one to end it all.”
Twilight was sitting in the Canterlot library’s forbidden wing. As a princess, she now had access to all the spells that were ever recorded, but were barely ever used. She hadn’t thought of a way to explain it to the other princesses yet, but right now there was an innocent creature in pain; after reading the letter she was sure Amnesia was innocent.
Or is she? She thought suddenly.
She stopped reading the book for a second. The letter stated that changelings were manipulative, whether they wanted it or not. So if she was manipulated, then Amnesia was not innocent. But how can one tell, if someone, who practiced lying and deceiving during their whole life, is actually telling the truth?
No spell could prove it; and she couldn’t think of anything that might have helped. She decided she’d learn the memory erasing spell first, and then question Amnesia. That is, if anything comes into her mind until then.
She turned another couple of pages, and found a spell that did exactly what she needed it to do. She wrote down all she needed, then tucked her notes into her saddlebag, and took flight to return to Migraine.
The living room was still quiet; the changling was sound asleep, and Migraine was sitting in his armchair, reading some newspapers. Suddenly, there was a gentle knock on the window; Migraine carefully stood up, took a peek from behind the drawn curtains, then opened the window.
“I could’ve let you in through the door,” he said to the purple alicorn.
“I know, but it was a bit faster this way,” Twilight replied. “I still have some questions for her; for Amnesia.”
“I’ll try to wake her up,” Migraine replied, locking the window.
Twilight took out her parchment, and read the instructions for the spell once more. She read it during her flight there over and over again, just to make sure she understood it perfectly. Just when she finished, Migraine announced that Amnesia was ready.
“Amnesia, I wanted to ask you something,” Twilight started. “Starting off with why you were trying to manipulate me?”
“So, you’ve seen through it all,” the changeling said, adding a weak chuckle. “But you still can’t figure it out yourself?”
“I know you pushed everypony in your head to get more and more memories inside; I know you wanted it all to be erased; but I think they were the ones holding you back from going over a limit, from stealing somepony’s life, instead of accepting when they offered it.”
“True; they were holding me back. But tell me princess, do you know what it’s like being locked up in your own head?” she asked, looking at Twilight with a blank stare. “I tried to give that stupid Fizzler nightmares, and I ended up knowing all he knew! I never asked for this, I never wanted any of this, and the first client that I should’ve had was myself!”
“You were trying to manipulate me into thinking you were innocent!” Twilight accused.
“Because I am! I never asked for this ability, I never even learned to control it!” the changeling started crying. “All I ever wanted was to leave it all behind, but every minute in the past year I was tortured by memories I never asked for! Could you ever know what it’s like?”
“No. I couldn’t.” Twilight replied after a short pause.
“I’m not sure I want to know any of the things I’ve done!” Amnesia cried out. “I’ll accept my past is gone; I don’t think I can go back, to live the way it was before, but I don’t bemoan the life I’ve lost!”
“Because you never had it,” Twilight whispered. “I’ll... help you.”
A calm expression crawled on the face of the changeling; she closed her eyes, and smiled.
“I need you to remain still; I’ve never done this spell before, and I can’t say I would like to practice it,” the princess warned.
“Whatever you do, know that we are thankful,” Amnesia replied.
After it was done, Twilight sat down in an armchair, rubbing her forehead. Her head hurt, especially her horn; that spell was fairly exhausting. She let out a heavy sigh, trying to collect her confused thoughts. Her spell was nothing like Amnesia’s talent; she simply erased memories, she never got a glimpse of what truly went on in the changeling’s head.
The changeling lay on the couch, limp as a rag-doll. Twilight now understood why Amnesia continuously referred to her clients as ‘drooling empty shells’; the saliva from her mouth was pouring like a small waterfall.
“Will she be alright?” she asked Migraine.
“Your work ends here; mine has just started,” the stallion replied.
“How will she ever recover?”
“If your spell’s effect is similar to Amnesia’s spell, I’d say that in two days she’ll be fine. The memories of the basic functions, like eating, drinking, sleeping, moving and talking require little effort to re-learn. Speaking is a somewhat basic thing too, so she’ll be remembering how to do that in less than a week. From then on, however, things get difficult.”
“Difficult?” Twilight inquired. “How so?”
“Usually that’s the point when patients learn that they were someponies before, and they somehow forgot it all.” Migraine explained. “In most cases a little fake detective work, some newspaper clippings of disappeared ponies will establish the fact in them that it’s mostly hopeless; with giving them something else to keep them occupied they will forgot about it pretty soon. But in her case...”
“You’re unsure what will happen, because she’s a changeling,” Twilight concluded, and the stallion nodded.
“She will question more than just who she was. She’ll ask what she was, and why can’t she go outside. It will be pretty difficult.”
“Who will help her through that time?” the purple alicorn asked.
“I will,” Migraine answered. “I’m the only thing that she has from her past.”
Twilight slowly nodded. She grabbed her things, and headed for the door. One last question popped into her head.
“Doctor?”
“Yes, princess?” He asked, already standing over the now unconscious changeling. One of his hooves was holding a napkin, and he was already cleaning up the changeling’s drool.
“You love her, don’t you?” Twilight asked.
“She never noticed,” Migraine replied after a long pause. “No matter how many times we met, she never mentioned it, and I was too cowardly to tell her. Maybe, just maybe now I’ll have a second chance too.”
Twilight shook her head; she couldn’t believe what she heard, or what she just did. She left the house through the door, heading for the palace. She wanted it all behind her, wanted to forget that she needed to explain it all to the princesses.
But most of all, she wanted a second chance. Being a princess put huge replonsibilities on her shoulders. Plus now everypony knew her face; and they all wanted to give a princess special treatment. But in her case, even Amnesia couldn’t have helped; she was one of the four alicorns; fat chance of giving her to any backwater village’s caring nurse.
She took flight; the skies already turned pink, orange and red around her, as the sun started disappearing on the horizon. She looked down to the streets of Canterlot; ponies were coming and going, doing their everyday business. Twilight wished she could have lived her ordinary life in Ponyville again. She wanted to befriend new ponies, wanted to have fun with them, wanted to feel the stress of not being able to finish something until a deadline, to feel the anger for having her plans ruined.
She wanted to feel alive again, even if it meant giving up everything she ever remembered.
