> Equal and Opposite > by Quillamore > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > The Little Changeling > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Princess Skyla placed her muzzle beside the mirror in front of her, hoping more than anything that the spell wouldn’t break. Sure, it’d be strange to learn that alicorn foals age differently than other ponies, instantly becoming full-fledged fillies or colts within months, but her secret was far darker than just that. Looking at the mirror, she thought, she could clearly see that she looked just like her mother, and almost like the real thing. She was glad that she’d gotten to the room quickly enough, for Shining Armor and Princess Cadance could never bear to see what their daughter truly was. She had to time it just right, her visits to her room, or else someone would suspect. In fact, she was beginning to think that Father already did. The inevitable moment passed when her magic began to overload, and she hated every second of it. Sure, being Skyla her entire life wasn’t the most desirable outcome for her, she had conflicting dreams, but it was certainly better than this. It was certainly better than looking in the mirror every day, seeing that smiling pony face that you’d want more than anything, but couldn’t keep with you. It was certainly better than having your façade shattered when you lost control, trying everything, everything to get it to come back, if only for a few minutes so that you could assure your assumed ‘parents’ that no harm was done. Everything was better than being Haine. “Turn me back!” the little filly yelled. “Please, turn me back! I’ll do anything!” But she knew that something here wasn’t correct. She wasn’t a filly. And no, she wasn’t a colt either. Such terms weren’t used with her kind. Changelings were changelings. She looked back at the mirror, trying to concentrate her magic, staring angrily at the figure she’d become, what some would call her true self (though she refused to accept it). Yes, she still looked like her mother now, just not the one she wanted to have. It wouldn’t have taken much change in the gene pool for her to have Cadance as a mother. After all, in this dysfunctional royal family, it didn’t take long for Haine to learn that Cadance was her aunt. Not too long ago, her family had been all ponies, with no other species in the mix. She’d never know her grandparents, but that was the least of her worries. The trouble had come when Cadance’s sister, Amore, had begun to fear that the royal regime was taking advantage of the only family she ever had. She’d decided that she wanted nothing more to do with Equestria and chose to venture elsewhere. Cadance pleaded with her to stay, dismissing Amore’s suspicions about Celestia as mere delusions. Things would have been better if they would’ve ended that way, Haine couldn’t help but think. She was that close to being who she would’ve wanted to be. She could have known that her aunt and uncle would love her for who she was. But alas, that was not meant to be. Cadance and Shining would be destined to hate her. And it was all because of what Amore had chosen to do next. After venturing through various lands beyond, Amore came across the Changeling Kingdom and began to unravel. As a matter of fact, Haine had been taught to see Amore as just somepony insignificant from the past who disappeared, lost in oblivion. But Haine knew better. She knew that Amore both was and wasn’t her mother. That was the reason why she’d been born at the exact same moment that the real Skyla, the one that the changelings had taken and replaced with her. Every action has an equal and opposite reaction, after all. Never mind that her magic was nowhere near experienced enough to keep a transformation long, or that her mother would much rather work on her plots than love and care for her as this kind did. No, she told herself. Cadance is my mother. Chrysalis, no. Amore, maybe, if she was somehow forced to turn into Chrysalis with corrupting magic like the kind someponies think happened to Auntie Luna. In actuality, she didn’t have a clue what really did happen. All she knew is that once she became a part of pony culture, she just wished it didn’t. Using the last bits of her magic that remained, Haine chose to recreate a different form. She saw herself as having a personality for every transformation: Skyla, the prim, proper little royal scholar, Haine, the changeling who was supposed to just go along with her fate, no matter how terrible she thought it was. But as she found that she was able to perform her magic properly, she finished the process, looked back to the mirror, and smiled in satisfaction. She treasured every moment she had as Asher. Asher was a completely different form, one of her own creation and tailored to her exact tastes. She wasn’t the type to just let her fate control her. She was a successful transplant from one culture to another, a rebel but also peaceful. All she wanted to do was continue studying the way Cadance was teaching her as Skyla, but she could care less if she was a princess or not. She had finally become a pony now, and that was all that mattered. And, more importantly, she didn’t even have a trace of Chrysalis on her. Unlike Haine, who was basically a carbon copy of her not-so-beloved mother, Asher had bright red fur and a spiky black mane with little bits of orange dyed in to look like embers on a fireplace. The whole thing about ashes was something that fascinated Haine in a strange way. When she was studying Fancy with her mother—Cadance, she hesitantly corrected herself—she’d been more than a bit disappointed when she’d found out what her name meant. But, then again, it made sense that Amore, a pony who wished to become a changeling, had a name that meant ‘love,’ and that Haine, a changeling who wished to become a pony, had a name that meant ‘hatred.’ But Haine herself wasn’t so fond of that, so she studied other languages in secret to find an alternate meaning, and it turned out that part of her name in one of them meant ‘ashes,’ which she much preferred. It gave her images of memories in front of a fire laughing with a true family. And, more importantly, even something as hopeless as ashes can turn into a phoenix. The next few minutes blurred for Haine as she realized too late that her last transformation into Asher had been too much. If the instability before was bad, this was even worse. She was so weak, she could barely keep her eyes open. She heard a knock at the door and wanted to scream. This was the absolute worst time for someone to come in. She tried to make a few moans in an attempt to drive the figure away, but those were in vain. She was lifted from the ground. No, “lifted” would be too nice of a word. Rather, she was pulled, ripped, yanked, and other synonyms likewise in connotation. Before her eyes fell and she drooped into unconsciousness, she realized that the aura now surrounding her was a suspicious shade of magenta. Suddenly, things had just gotten a billion times worse. **** “Shining!” scolded Cadance. “You are not to behave this way around her!” “But she kidnapped our daughter!” her husband protested. “And she’s a changeling! How the hay do you expect me to treat her?!” “She’s not even full-grown yet! Did you see the way her magic shorted out? And, if she’s been receiving nourishment through our love for her, you likely aren’t helping matters!” “Love is something you have to earn, and quite frankly, she hasn’t. Let’s just send a message to Celestia, get rid of her, and our problems are solved.” “But she’s a child, Shining. She can be reformed. She just doesn’t know any better.” “You know her mother, Cadance. She wasn’t exactly innocent. Remember, you could have died if she’d had her way. It wouldn’t surprise me if her daughter hadn’t been sent here to finish what she started.” Haine, having woken up, flinched away from her uncle the best she could while inside his magical barrier. “Get away from me!” she protested. “I know that if you’re going to touch me, it’s just going to be to hurt me!” “Tone it down,” Cadance advised her husband. “The poor thing’s scared to death of you now.” “Well, the fear is mutual, then,” Shining countered. “Quiet now, she was only a pawn, and doesn’t need to be attacked to prove a point. It’s not exactly polite to shoot the messenger.” At this point, Haine had broken into tears and could vaguely be heard uttering, “All I wanted was for you two to be my parents. That was the only reason I kept on doing this. I don’t want to go back. Please don’t take me back…” “See, she never wanted to be a changeling. And she doesn’t want to hurt us.” “How do I know that won’t change?” Finally having reached the brink of annoyance, Cadance broke the spell her husband had placed, freeing Haine from its magical aura. She then came up and nuzzled the incredibly scared young changeling in an attempt to console her. “Are you crazy?!” Shining retorted. “Now look what you’ve done!” “We can find Skyla, fight off the changelings, and then have her live with us. If we care for her, she isn’t going to be the monster you think she is.” “Okay, okay, now I’m starting to understand your logic. But how necessarily would we keep a you-know-what in our house without Celestia finding out?!” “Ponies can turn into changelings permanently, why not the other way around? And besides, Shining, you ought to owe your niece, your flesh-and-blood kin, a favor.” The room was silent for several minutes, the argument having receded into an awkward silence. Ignoring the strange atmosphere, Cadance then asked, “So, now that we know that you’re not really Skyla, what exactly is your real name?” “Oh, come on!” Shining growled. “I’m getting used to the idea of the changeling and all, but why ask her name now when there’s a twisted family tree that needs serious explanation?!” “Um, sorry to interrupt, but my name’s Haine,” the third figure shyly introduced. “We’re not calling you that,” Cadance quickly decided. “Changeling or not, it’s still a cruel name, and that’s that.” “Well, I don’t like it too much either. I tend to call myself Asher instead.” “Then that’s what we’ll call you,” concluded Cadance with a smile. “And, even though I think you’ve probably already heard this story, I should better explain before Shining explodes from confusion.” She then gestured to her husband, now pacing around and muttering, “So if Asher is my niece, and Chrysalis is her mother, then…” He now started breaking down and yelling, “But really, my conclusion can’t be right. I mean, Twilight imprisoning me in an abandoned mine? That’d be ridiculous!” “You and Twilight aren’t exactly the way all sibling relationships work,” Cadance explained. “Mine certainly didn’t end up that well.” “So it’s true,” Shining sighed. “It really is true.” He calmly pondered this for a few minutes and let out a long “NOOOOOOOOOOO” that lasted for several seconds. After all of this, he no longer paced and instead began to yell, “Chrysalis is my pegasister in law? Chrysalis is my pegasister-in-law. CHRYSALIS IS MY PEGASISTER-IN-LAW?!” Cadance then sighed and smiled at watching her husband act in such a manner, finding strange amusement in this. “I guess we’re going to need a lot more exposition.” > Window to the Soul > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Asher could faintly hear Cadance trying to explain the very strange and convoluted situation from her bedroom. For now, she was guarded and forbidden to leave her tiny area, but moreso out of fear for her safety than out of punishment. The alicorn couple had been able to notice right away that even after she had regained consciousness, her magic remained unstable. In order to prove their point, Asher had tried to transform into something, anything, but was not able to, even though her magic levels should have been restored by now. From what she could recall, she hadn’t fallen back into any comas, but fell asleep easily and just seemed weak in general. No matter how much she itched to get out of the confined space, her aunt and uncle were just too worried about what could happen to her if she did. Well, at least, she knew Cadance was worried about her. She wasn’t quite sure what, if anything, she could do about Shining. All residents of the castle were slightly on edge at the moment, and not only because they’d just found out that the crown princess was missing. Some of the messengers had tried to send letters to Celestia for assistance, but as of yet, there had been no reply. So, Shining and Cadance were in one of those situations in which progress cannot be made without an agonizing amount of waiting for permission from a higher authority. But honestly, Asher was just glad that none of the guards had laid a hoof on her, even during the initial shock of the revelation. She didn’t take this as any sort of recognition of a possible alliance, however. They probably just thought that taking her prisoner would be far more useful than killing her on the spot. Except she wouldn’t be of any use there, either. She’d been transported to the Crystal Empire somehow, but her memories of that day had been tampered with so that she wouldn’t accidentally reveal too much of the mission. Too late for that, and even then, she wouldn’t have a clue of how to get back to changeling territory from here. It likely wouldn’t stop them from beating an answer out of her, though. Changelings just brought back too many bad memories here. Just another reason why her family was too twisted to ever get along. As she lay in bed, her mind drifted, flitting from one thought to another. The first thing on her mind, of course, was how her uncle could possibly respond. Or should she just give up on calling him that? Perhaps the story could clarify things, quell his anger a bit, but at the end of the day, she still considered him the biggest threat to continuing her life. She knew that he could change his emotions in an instant. After all, it didn’t take too long for him to go from loving her as Skyla to seeing her as basically a copy of Chrysalis. But, strangely enough, Skyla herself came into Asher’s mind. Before, she didn’t even bother thinking about her cousin; after all, it’s not like they ever met and they were elemental opposites. She was more like a plot device to allow Chrysalis to create havoc amongst her own family. And yet, she knew how void and unwelcoming the changeling habitat could be. She knew that they wouldn’t put up with any sort of resistance. To a filly, such an environment could induce fear beyond belief, if not worse. For the first time, she realized that her temporary opportunity to live the life she’d always wanted could have inflicted some very permanent damage. Okay, I’ve found a passage into your thoughts, a strange voice echoed within Asher’s mind. The young changeling wasn’t quite sure what to make of the matter, but rolled over in her bed in an attempt to try to tune it out. It would have been better if you hadn’t invoked me through your worries, but an entrance is an entrance. I know you probably think you’re hearing things, but you aren’t. I’ve never tried this with another living being before, but it shouldn’t have any negative effects. You’re having a very expected reaction to my magic. “Who are you?!” Asher yelled suddenly. “Why in Equestria do you find it necessary to mess with my head?!” I’m not messing with your head, the voice responded. Telepathy isn’t difficult if you can find a link to a soul. Some have more control over it than others, but I have the ability to look clearly into all of that, to see hidden emotions and to guide ponies from there. Though, like you, my magic hasn’t quite refined yet, so I was a bit hesitant about fiddling with it before in order to send you a message. Thankfully, it’s a lot easier to enter thoughts when somepony’s already thinking about the caster, so you just made my job a lot easier. Frantically, Asher began to backtrack to those she’d thought about in the past few minutes in an attempt to figure out who the figure was. Shining was out of the question, as he’d never told her he’d even had those abilities, and besides, the voice was feminine and nowhere near as hostile as his would’ve been. So it had to be… Princess Skyla? Asher thought to herself. Pretty different from how you imagined I’d be, huh? the voice responded. Seeing as you were sent right in to imitate me without even meeting me, I’m not surprised. Since you’re wondering, they haven’t really done much to me yet other than some slight experimentation and such. But I’ve realized that I’ve basically lost my ability to speak in the physical plane outside of talking like this. If you were to go up to me in the changeling land, I wouldn’t be able to respond at all. I don’t know why, but I get the feeling it has something to do with what they’re planning for me. I don’t know what that is yet, but let me tell you: there are a lot of stray souls around here. What do you mean by stray souls exactly? Asher wondered. Well, they’re like ghosts, and yet, they’re not like ghosts, Skyla clarified. And yes, that doesn’t sound like it makes very much sense, but it does. Something about the way the changelings used them, whether as nourishment or for something larger, makes them different. A ghost would have something that’d look like a body, but these beings—or ‘glimmers,’ as I call them—don’t even have that. They just let out tiny amounts of magical light, not even as big as your hoof. For some reason or another, they’ve all attached themselves to me ever since I’ve been here and dimmed their lights so that the only sign of their presence is their voices. If Chrysalis were to find them, they say that something terrible could come out of it. At first, I was a bit skeptical, but…thanks to them, I’m able to gather information without leaving the cocoon I was imprisoned inside. Some of them have been around even before Chrysalis was the ruler here, or so they claim. Asher, trying to take in all of the information, paused for a few moments before finally asking, Is anypony else being held captive here? No, it’s just me and another filly who was placed in the same chamber that I’m in, Skyla answered while summoning some sort of magic. At first, Asher wasn’t quite sure what she was trying to do, but inside this strange zone of imagination, a royal blue-colored pegasus filly with a braided, wavy greenish-blue mane appeared out of some shadows. The pegasus’s light brown eyes moved up and down slowly as the filly was trying to take in what she saw. Skyla, are you sure this is safe? she questioned fearfully. When you told me we were going into someone’s mind, you didn’t tell me that that someone would be a Duchesse changeling! She isn’t going to hurt us. The glimmers tell me that this is one of the first times a Duchesse might have actually broken the streak. Typically, they don’t come out being this…’soft,’ as they’d probably put it. If we don’t help her soon, though, this could be the end of— Wait, Asher interrupted. What are you talking about? I didn’t think there were different kinds of changelings. Duchesses, in more ways than one, are more “pony-like” than other changelings, Skyla tried to explain. A lot of the glimmers that got killed here ended up doing so because regular changelings tried to possess them in order to gain Duchesse powers. Supposedly, they’re meant to live longer and be stronger than the others, but as of late— Things have gotten really bad, the pegasus murmured, still having the same childish, fearful tone as before. Chrysalis has been trying to make it so that more of them become Duchesses, but so far, she’s the only one of that subspecies to survive. From what Skyla’s gathered, more of them used to exist, but somehow, their life spans have been dropping. It had gotten to the point where she even tried to have children, in hopes that bloodlines could break the curse that seemed to be placed on them. But it ended up making things worse. Chrysalis has begun to unravel because she’s realizing that having them herself is only speeding up the process. All the child Duchesses have been weak-bodied and die after only a few months. I’ve been here longer than Skyla has, so I’ve seen it happen. And the more it happens, the worse it gets over here, and the worse she ends up treating us. After saying all of this, the tiny filly dropped to her hooves and curled herself into a ball at the thought of what could happen to her. Skyla cantered over and began to gently stroke her, attempting to comfort her friend. Somehow, you have to try to find a way to survive until I end up being found, the princess explained. I don’t know what’s been happening to Duchesses to make them like this, but your survival could bring Chrysalis at least some hope. It’s a long shot, but like my friend Hyacinth Harmony explained a few moments ago, worse things could happen if you end up dead. For one thing, she could use a transformation spell to turn Hyacinth into a Duchesse, and she’d likely end up dead after that as well. I can’t lose her, Haine. With no connection to my parents or even my origins, she’s the only thing I have. It’s nice being able to speak with the glimmers, but they can only go so far. Hyacinth—at least she’s, well, alive. I want to help, I really do, Asher replied, but I’m already weakening. I haven’t been able to use my changeling magic for a day or so. No, I’ve heard about that happening to other young changelings, Skyla countered. You’re not getting as weak as the others Chrysalis tried it on. When a pony princess is born, the changeling world reacts. Just as I’m considered to be a level above other ponies, you could be a level above the other Duchesses. Just—be careful. I’ll keep in touch. The dream world around her then dissipated, and Asher realized that she was back in the material world. Thoughts continued to whirl through her head, but this time, there were more questions than answers. Looking back just a few minutes before, she scoffed at how frivolous the worry of Shining going against her was compared to all of this. Somewhere, her very health determined whether or not two fillies would be tortured. Or perhaps worse. And as if she didn’t already know that her mother’s feelings for her were as detached as possible, now she knew that if she survived, she would only be valued based on her eligibility as a potential breeder. To her, she had no future in the colony. So what would become of her then? And, as the door opened in front of her, she couldn’t help but wonder why, out of all the Duchesses, no, out of everyone in Equestria, why did it have to be her who would be chained to this fate? > Side Story: Mission (Out of) Control > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Ah, I sigh to myself as I wake up yet again in the cocoon I’ve inhabited for Celestia knows how long, another day in paradise. For those not able to tell immediately, that was thinly veiled sarcasm. Verythinly veiled sarcasm. If you really want me to tell you this story, you’re going to have to put up with it. While I might seem like an innocent, cutesy filly at first glance, I actually have a rather sharp wit, if I say so myself, so don’t underestimate me. After all, I have been living on my own without adult supervision for quite a while, unless you count Chrysalis’s occasional coming and going as that. I personally don’t, so I prefer not to call it that. She’s more like a guard than anything. Come to think of it, now that I’m remembering a lot more from before Skyla came here, I recall Chrysalis actually asking me to do the same for the princess, to try to keep her in line. Why she’d trust me to do that, I have no idea. I’ve never liked nor trusted changelings, but they’re the only things I know really. I can put up a tough front when they’re not around, but I think I might actually be scared to death of them. At least, that’s what Skyla says. I try not to disagree with her too much, and not just because it’s a pain sharing a small space with somepony who isn’t fond of you. Believe it or not, I actually don’t mind Skyla as a person—no, pony—no, character—or whatever, despite me being used by the changelings at the moment. Point is, I’m fond of her, so don’t question it. "Hya?" Skyla moans (using that telepathic voice of hers) as she gets up from her slumber slightly after me. I’ve never been used to being called by a nickname, but somehow I don’t mind it when she does it. ‘Hyacinth Harmony,’ after all, can be quite a mouthful. Lucky princess for actually getting a relatively simple name. Being somepony who’s never escaped the hive, I don’t actually know what a hyacinth is even supposed to be, anyway. I don’t remember much before Skyla came, but I’m fine with that. Right now, she’s all that matters. She’s basically what keeps me sane right now. The two of us huddle together in the middle of the cocoon because we both like the feeling of having somepony else’s fur touching yours. It actually makes you feel like you’re not alone in this desolate place where everypony (or everychangeling?) seems to be an enemy. Skyla doesn’t look particularly well right now; for one thing, her fur is in complete disarray and I swear she’s coming down with something. Just a month ago, we stopped being able to talk through normal means, she’s been getting so weak. Every once in a while, Skyla goes away while I’m asleep and comes back with Chrysalis carrying her, and somehow, I’m beginning to suspect that the changelings are fiddling with her. Trying to turn her into a Duchesse, I mean. She keeps insisting on protecting me, but I swear, she’s the one that needs protecting. The fact that an alicorn like her is weakening so quickly only furthers my suspicions. I don’t seem like so much of a filly now, do I? That’s what being here does to you, I guess. There’s no time for galloping around when your friendly changeling overlords are snooping about. I keep on thinking about how much I hate this place, how much I wish I could escape with Skyla and find a new life, but wishes can be interpreted in strange ways. If only I’d known that a few days later, I would transcend this existence. Except not with Skyla by my side. I try and try, but she can’t even see me anymore. Maybe if I try to reach out to her in a different way, she’d notice. But for now, I remember this moment fondly, because, as I soon realized, it would be the last time I’d feel my fur against her own. **** I watch several days after the aforementioned event as Skyla sleeps within her cocoon, completely alone for once, and try once again to reach out to her, even though I know it’s useless now. While Skyla can, in fact, see spirits, I get the feeling that her fading power no longer allows her to do that, as she doesn’t even talk with her glimmers anymore. On the other hand, I can see that she’s also been blinded by grief, rarely staying awake and only being able to cry and convulse when she is. If the reasoning behind the atrocity that’s recently unfolded is to get her to further lose hope, it’s working. Our cozy morning together, the one that seemed like it occurred centuries ago, didn’t last long, as changelings came within an hour for their usual checkup. They’d tried to take Skyla away from me in order to mess around with her again, but for the first time in my life, I decided to stand up against my captors, attacking with all my might if it meant fighting for her honor. As you can probably predict, they didn’t take well to it, and looking back on it, I should’ve seen that the odds were against me for one simple reason: they had magic and I didn’t. The scuffle that was supposed to allow us to escape lasted less than five minutes. By then, about half of them had pinned me down, while the other half had presumably left to notify the queen. However, I had basically ignored that fact until I heard a single voice of protest. “Hya, no!” Skyla’s voice invaded my brain with an intensity that I hadn’t seen before with her telepathy. Even though the changelings had basically left her mute, I could still feel how much agony she was facing right now. The normally clear intonation of the voice she chose to use for this means of communication had become desperate and possibly even a little crazed. “If you give into them and stop fighting, maybe they’ll reduce your inevitable punishment!” “I can’t,” I replied, making sure my attackers weren’t aware of what I was doing. “You know I can’t. How could you let them continue to do this to you?! You’re dying, Skyla, and you’re letting them do those terrible things to somepony who’s supposed to be immortal in the first place! A true and proud princess would never let spawn so low as these to control her, to infest her in any way possible! I’m not always going to be around to keep you out of trouble, you know?!” “You don’t have to put your life on the line like you’re some sort of royal guard or something! Don’t just throw yourself away for me! I want to be your equal. Even if I die, you can still live your own life, and even if I die, Equestria will still have enough princesses to rule itself for another thousand years. Besides, should my death become dangerously possible…I’ll still have my opposite. Asher can take my place, and Equestria will never have to know!” “You tell me to live my own life, but you’d be perfectly willing to force another to replace you and life a lie?” Without realizing that I wasn’t supposed to be speaking on the same concrete plane that the changelings holding me down were on, I scoffed. “That’s not the Skyla I came to know. You never struck me for a hypocrite. You never struck me for the sort of idiot who’d trust a changeling to join Celestia’s court. You know, just like the ones who’re killing you from the inside?” “I don’t want to argue,” she sobbed, “but in any case, please don’t bring Asher into this. She…she’s different. She wants to help.” “If she wants to help so badly, then why hasn’t she gone against her own kind and rescued us?! Changelings are changelings, and I’m tired of running away from them in fear. They can change their outward appearances, but they can’t change their characters. They’ll always be out to create havoc. I’m tired of you treating one of our torturers like she’s some sort of family to you, because I could care less. If it turns out that my parents were changelings all along, I’d still go against them because I want to be your guard. A princess needs one to survive, so if I have to play that role, then so be it. “Just…quit protecting me for once. I’ll never remember anything outside the hive, probably never get to see the world outside, and nopony even really cares if I exist or not, for all I know. But you…you’re different. You haven’t been molded into their pawn yet. You can escape. It’d be a shame if a rare princess managed to die within her first years of life. No stupid changeling could replace you, because I believe that you deserve to live more than anypony else…” Before Skyla could protest, Chrysalis quickly barged into the area, firing her horn to the greatest intensity that I had ever seen from her. An almost blinding light emanated from it and, without a single word, without a single reason given, staggering amounts of electricity shocked my body. The cave was illuminated for several minutes, and when the light finally cleared, any trace of me was nothing more than shreds. The worst part about this entire experience is that I’m far from dead. I don’t know the full explanation yet, but somehow, I can remember that that ravaged filly form hadn’t been my first. I’m not a pony, or a changeling, or even a glimmer, but rather some sort of odd creature that can only exist by animating a dead body. Take the body away and any contact I might’ve had with the regular world is immediately cut. But Skyla never knew that. She spends every waking moment now, mourning what she perceives to be my eternal death. To her, this is the first rude awakening she’ll receive that not everypony was designed to live as long as her. She’s become desperate, senseless, trying to escape at any chance she’ll get and even mouthing off to her captors. If the situation wasn’t so grave, I’d be proud. But I can’t avoid the fact that the impetus for her finally rebelling is something that I never could have accomplished while living in her world. I still entertain the notion that someday, maybe by some odd stroke of fate, I’ll be able to find another empty body within the hive to occupy, to assure Skyla that I’ve never really left her side. Sure, she probably won’t believe me, but for all I know, the emotions she feels for me might be deeper than that initial skepticism. She might be at such a state to believe it with open arms, even with the possibility that she might be deluding herself by doing such. Most of all, however, I consider the possibility that maybe Skyla was right about Asher all along, that maybe she will end up fulfilling her side of the bargain. It’s not something I’m particularly excited or even convinced about, but I figure that there isn’t much point in continuing to bicker with somepony who doesn’t even think you’re still alive. If—no, when—I end up returning to the world of existence, I want to abandon all the grudges I might’ve once had within that old, small body of mine. There’s one thing, however, I do want to keep: I will never let Skyla go. This time, I’m going to stay by her side for eternity, even if it means going to extremes to ensure I won’t have to leave her again. And, most of all, I’m not about to let anypony tear her apart from me anymore, even if it means fighting the one she relies upon most.