> If I Were a Pony... > by Pen Mightier > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Prologue - ...This Day Really Could Have Been Perfect > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- ~Prologue~ - ...This Day Really Could Have Been Perfect - There is a pony saying; At least Death only comes once, unlike the tax pony. He sure is taking his sweet time, making a lady wait. Well, it left me with free time. A lot of it. More free time than I ever remember having. While panicking had been a good distraction for a while, the novelty kind of wore off rather quickly. We changelings believe that death is but sleep. But I personally feel it makes waking up in the morning a little difficult. It makes you all stiff for a start. But I'm here, I have all the time left in the world, I might as well get some practice in. And enjoy a little luxury while I'm at it. I dreamt. I knew it was a dream. It was too good to be true. I mean, my cupcakes even had dainty little umbrellas on them. It was probably everything I could ever have wished for, if I could remember how to wish. There probably was a time when my people remembered how to wish. Long before hope turned to desperation, and our wishes to hunger and greed. Long before I lost sight of what I had and became drunk on what she had. Hmm. Alright, 'drunk' is admittedly a bit of an understatement. Judging by the hangover I've inflicted upon not only myself but my entire queendom, I was quite thoroughly bucked. That prissy pink princess pony doesn't know what she's got. Or perhaps she does. I had wondered what allowed her to survive four months in an abandoned mine without going insane. It was most definitely not the company. But I digress. It was a good dream. I dreamt I was a pony. No, not one of the pale imitations my people masquerade as. A real pony, one of her little ponies, living in her ideal world of friendship and harmony. It's odd how easily death could make one honest with oneself. Or perhaps even selfish pride had become too much a luxury to indulge in. There was no strength left for hubris, let alone audacity. I was so weak, so drained, in both mind and body, a breezie could probably snuff me out now. I kind of wish there was a breezie around to do just that. How long had I lain here in this dusty crater, amongst my slain Queendom? The sun had seared me straight in the eyes when I crash-landed. Now the blistering orb had crawled away into the dusk, leaving me in the cold twilight. Thirst and hunger had long since become but a dull roar in the background of the cacophony of pain my injuries played in my head. My body broken, my magic drained, I was but a soul captive in a dying body. My only respite from the long, torturous wait for sweet release was that dream. Desperate to escape the pain, I prayed to fall asleep once more, to return to that dream's sweet embrace. Such a sweet dream. It would be morning. I would rub my sleepy eyes and reluctantly roll out of my soft, comfy bed. I would take a bath, have tea with my roommate and go out to play with my friends. I'd be free to roam, never having to look over my shoulder in fear. I would be trusted, and I in turn might be able to trust. Maybe even love... It had taken me by surprise at first, in the brief lucid moments I had. 'Friends', 'Play', 'Free', 'Trust' and, ugh, 'Love'; How could such alien concepts, things that happen to other creatures in entirely other worlds, mean anything to me, Chrysallis, Queen of Shadows? And seem not only so familiar but also so wondrous at that? They were her things, her little ponies' things. They were things as remote to me as pain and suffering was to her. Still, what is this strange sense of fulfilment ebbing away within me? Why do I long for it so? I allowed myself a moment of wistful weakness. I allowed myself a wish, 'If I were a pony'. My shame quickly reared its ugly head and corrected that. My pride is an old habit that was probably harder to kill than myself. I am the Queen of changelings, and I would die a changeling with my slain Queendom if I must. Ugh, why does pride have to be so painful? I distracted myself by slowly opening my weary eyes. The world was darker now, cooler too. There was just enough light to make out the dark, lumpy shadows that littered the barren desert around me. Lifeless bodies were strewn carelessly across an impromptu graveyard. Foolish children, following me to their ruin. There would be no graves for my people, no tombstone to mark the passing of our race. The cold, dry dust from whence we came shall claim us, once and for all. I am Chrysallis, Queen of Queens, look upon my works ye mighty, and despair! Nothing beside remains round the decay.... Well, aside from the irritating cackling from above. I turned my gaze heavenward at those who would laugh at Changelingkind's final hour. I'd recognize those winged rats of the badlands anywhere, even in the half-light. Vultures. I'd hate them if I had any strength left for it. All I could manage was quiet resignation. No, there'd be nothing left for even the dust to claim. A few had the gall to descend upon my children's remains, showing no respect for the fact that I was alive still. No. Not while I still draw breath, not while I'm still their QUEEN! "Get off." I growled. My parched voice was but a mewl. But I would not let it stop me. "Get off!" I rasped as loudly as my ragged lungs could manage. "GET OFF!" I roared at the heavens. Those with even half-a-sense immediately took flight in a flurry of panicked feathers. Indignant squawks filled the sky. I did not get to bask in my little victory for long. A particularly big buzzard blotted out the sky above me. Its massive wings flapped mightily, stirring the dust around me. It was descending straight for me. This must be the king of all carrion fowl. Not satisfied with the dead, it must have live meat. Well, come then. I shall show you just how alive this meat is! "Thou art loud for a corpse." The dark silhouette commented, idly, as it hovered the last few hooves before setting down nearby. That voice. Oh, my day is now indeed perfect. Must she come to laugh at me as well? She probably did. Probably makes her feel better when she's crying herself to sleep. I gave a sordid chuckle, giving myself a sharp stitch in my ribs. It was worth it. "My, the reaper does come all in black." I breathed, croakily, allowing myself a grim smile as the dark figure loomed up above me. "Didn't know black came in your size." "If only thou were so lucky." The dark apparition said in an almost bored tone. Her cold eyes glowed like fiery diamonds, the only light in her dark silhouette. "Yes, you could have come in all the colours of the rainbow." I quipped. "Now that you're here, could you please scratch my wings? They're quite itchy." "We would if We could find them." She said, with morbid indifference. "We hath done enough reaping today. Thou shalt not find thy reaper in Us." "Too easy a death, is it?" I sighed, raggedly. "Where is she?" I demanded, a seething anger suddenly coming to a boil. To send her sister here to finish the job, was she too good for me? "Somewhere pleasant, We're sure." She replied, offhoofedly. "Too good to end this herself, is she?" I taunted, feebly, "Too pure to get her dainty little princess hooves dirty?" "Pray, grow some wisdom. Do not challenge fate anymore than thou hast." She said, evenly. "Thou shalt find that supplies of mercy are already stretched this day." "Do what you want, so I can return to my dream." I growled. Realization dawned in what lucid part of me was left. "Hahah, subtle, Moon-butt. Very subtle. The dream was your doing, wasn't it?" Of course, all dreams were the purview of the Princess of the Night. Stalking pervert. That would explain how all the prancy prissy pony things got into my dream. To give me respite in a dream, then taunt my weakness so. "My defeat is complete." I closed my eyes in surrender. "Take me. Do what you will." "We intend no such thing." My reaper said, dispassionately. "What happens to thee now shall be entirely thine own choice." "Dying in peace might not be one of them, I take it?" I wheezed. "It could be. We can take Our leave here and now and leave thee to the fowl, even if We do question their taste." She said, frostily. "Or thou couldst shut thine muzzle long enough for Us to dictate thee thy other choice." "Oh, here it goes." I rolled my eyes. "Nightmare Moon called, I think she wants her balls back." "SHUT THINE TRAP, KNAVE!" The Royal Canterlot voice shook the earth, dispersing the circling buzzards in a shower of feathers. The very badlands fell deafeningly silent, as if heeding her will. "PRAY, BEFORE OUR HOOVES DO IT FOR THEE!" Very well, most persuasive. Muzzle is shut. "Better. Now, hark. Thou shalt face Our simple gauntlet." She said, snappily, in a tone that left no room for negotiation. "We shalt bestow upon thee an ample supply of magic. Within the time it grants thee, thou must succeed in acquiring love." Here I was thinking it was a choice. "Do you even know who you're talking to?" I demanded, raspily, feeling a little insulted. "Not a three thousand year old virgin, mind you. Or is it seven thousand?" When you get on like an alicorn, counting the candles on the birthday cake can prove a challenge. "True love, freely given, might We add." The moon princess went on, ignoring my quip. "If thou succeeds, thou shalt trot free." "Oh, please, give me a real challenge. Give me an hour and I shall flood Canterlot's streets in stallion drool." I scoffed, before breaking into a fit of weak coughs. Ouch, my lungs did not appreciate the insult. "The conditions." She went on. Oh, this mare is so in love with her own voice. There's true love right there. "Firstly, thou shalt do no pony, dragon, mule, cow, rabbit, Pinkie Pie or any other sentient being harm. Secondly, thou shalt carry out this challenge without thine magic. Thy magic shall be sealed. Thirdly, thy form shall be permanently locked in that of a pony. And fourth, thou shalt not leave Ponyville, at least not without an escort assigned by Ourselves. Failure to comply with any of these shall be met with swift and final judgement." What kind of sadistic game is this? "That..." I groaned my opinion, "...is the biggest load of horseapples I've ever..." "Consider it." She asked, her tone suddenly softening along with her manner of speech. Her face, up till now shrouded in shadows, turned to face me, allowing the last vestiges of twilight to light it up. Her expression was almost...gentle? "Please. If not for thyself, then for thy kind." What little her tone and expression had disarmed was lost in a sudden eruption of foul bile. How dare she?! How dare she bring my children into this?! "Our race...was dying..." I growled. "Now we are dead. You ponies have killed us all! There is no fixing that!" I barked. "A hoofful yet lives." She said with infuriating calm. "We hath ensured this. One way or another, We shall impress upon them the need for co-existence. We would rather achieve this through their Queen if possible." Some still live? Could this be possible? Was my magic so weak that I could not feel them? Were they too so feeble that I could not sense them? Can I allow it? Can I allow myself this fragile hope? "You would hold what is left of my kin ransom for your little game? I wonder, is Nightmare Moon really gone?" I growled. "WE ASK YOU DO NOT CHALLENGE FATE THUSLY!" She bellowed, the glint in her eyes flaring with sudden rage. "We do not ask for much." She said, her tone still edged. "They may have freedom, either through their own efforts or thine. That much We promise. Aggressors unto any sovereign would be foolish to refuse such mercy." The princess said. "Tell Us, Queen. Would thou hath spared Us this mercy if We had been the vanquished invaders?" I bit my lip sullenly but grudgingly conceded her point. No, I would not have been as generous. Our people had no such luxury. That these ponies can speak of anything beyond a summary execution speaks volumes of their excess. "To prove Our goodwill, We shall release one of thy kin into thy custody. See to it that she abides by the same conditions and she is free to remain by thy side." The princess said as she lit up her horn with a gentle blue glow. A blinding spark of bluish white light lit up the twilight. "Ouchies!" Something fell out of the fiery blue light and into the dust. I didn't need the glow of the spell upon its frail little form to recognize her. I knew every one of them by their familiar little tug on the Queen's heart. She flailed about with her little hooves in the air as she struggled to right herself. "Why is it so dark?!" She cried in panic into her light gray mane that covered her eyes. "Willow Wisp..." I whispered, softly, almost in disbelief. She was a drone, just barely. Not many children survive to their second molting these days. "Y-your majestiness!" The child gave a squeak, her deep blue eyes widening with surprise as she finally untangled her mane from her face. "Y-you're alive!" Foregoing all decorum, she leapt at me, crushing what few intact ribs I had in a tight embrace. For some odd reason, I felt better for it. "You're alive! I'm not alone!" The child broke into feeble sobs of earnest relief. Children, always so sticky and wet, loud and whiny. But for some reason, I did not mind it so much. "What desperation or madness would bring thee to involve mere children in thy invasion?" The lunar sovereign sighed, shaking her head in obvious disgust. What desperation indeed. 'Every changeling for the Queen' we had said. But no, not even my foolhardy self could justify it. We simply had no choice. Either they came with us or stayed behind and starved. You see, the thing about 'evil' is, evil has a choice. "This little one has proven courage and loyalty far beyond the call of duty of any mere soldier, far beyond her very years." The princess went on, "We caught her disguised as you. She led Our troops on a merry chase through half the countryside before they finally caught her." As me? Foolish child! "I-I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, your majestiness! I failed! Bad!" The child squeaked, suddenly releasing me and falling back on her rump in fear. "I try and try so hard, but..." Her lips quivered, her sapphire blue eyes quickly watering up. "I just could never do good for you, your majestiness." She gave a forlorn wail into her little forehooves. A treacherous part of my mind couldn't help but question; What? What have I done to deserve their loyalty? What have I done to deserve Willow's? My eyes strayed to the unmoving forms littering the ground around us. They would never move again. And for what? I choked back weary tears. What little pride I had left gave an indignant scoff, 'Is it for a Queen to apologize, let alone seek atonement?', it demanded of me. 'It is, for a sane soul', I argued back, heatedly. And I have at least that if nothing else. Casting decorum, pride, and all the trappings of the Queen, I decided I would do right by what remains of my people. I painfully put all the strength I had left into my one good front hoof. Slowly, gently, I brought it up towards the child. She flinched, closing her eyes in fear. I hesitated. 'When else?' I asked myself. Later? Tomorrow? Next week? Those things happen to other people. I have nothing else but this moment, I reminded myself. I pulled her by her withers against me. She stiffened in my hold, unsure of what to do. That made both of us. But we shall have time to get used to such foolishness. I shall make it so. I may not deserve it, but Willow does. My kin and their memory does. This pony princess knows how to manipulate her prey so annoyingly well. "Co-existence." I muttered, grudgingly. "Would you not take my word for it?" No, I wouldn't take my word for it. Not after everything we had done. "No. We cannot." Credit where it's due, this princess is firm. Bluntly so. "But We shalt at least give thee the opportunity to prove thyself." "Why?" I couldn't help but ask. "Why all this?" The regent took a deep breath before allowing herself a weary sigh. "Because thine art a dying race. Because enough blood hath been spilt this day. Because We would rather not have Our niece's anniversary be remembered as a day of genocide. Because it is what she would have done. Because We want to. The choice is thine." Because if Nightmare Moon can be forgiven, why can't I? But I kept that to myself. "Very well, you want me to be a nice pony, one good enough to earn affection." I summarized. "Simply put, yes." She nodded. "Can I avoid the singing and dancing?" I asked, hopefully. "Afraid not." My hope was summarily denied. "Curses." I muttered. I took a slow breath as I gave my choice one last thought. If I were a pony... Nope, nuh uh, down that road madness lies. Just satisfy this crazy mare's whims, free my people, and salvage what we can. Nothing more. There shall be none of this pony nonsense, not even the cupcakes with dainty little umbrellas in them. I gave a little sigh. "Where do I begin?" > ...I'd Be Nice. Most of the Time. > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- ~Chapter 1~ - ...I'd Be Nice. Most of the Time. - Love is in bloom! A beautiful bride, a handsome groom to heaaart! Becoming one! A bond that cannot be undone! Show off. She needs a few more drinks because I've definitely heard better drinking songs. Not that I'm jealous or anything. My Perfect Day Aria could hold its own, even at zero blood alcohol. Sure, I was probably just a liiiiittle tipsy on the few drinks of love I had at the time, but it was still an excellent number. Oh, who am I kidding? Note to self, never drink-and-conquer, ever again. This day could have been perfect... I shook my head, clearing my head of those treacherous thoughts. Down that road madness lies. I sighed as I turned away from the scene of mirth and merriment in the palace gardens below. Ponies. Trust them to sing and dance to anything, even celebrating this day of battle, waltzing and foxtrotting across a bloodied battlefield. I dropped my forehooves from where I had them hooked on the window sill to step onto the lush carpet flooring. I tilted my head this way and that as I gave the room we were teleported to a closer look. At first glance, you would never have expected this to be the room of the Lunar Diarch, or any royal for that matter. Sure, it had a sturdy, well-built bed (upon which a very tired Willow Wisp was curled up, snoozing) and a cozy-looking fireplace, but that's where its concessions to its identity as Luna's bedroom ended. Otherwise, I probably would have thought myself trapped in the scene of a crime unto common decency (mind you, this is coming from a changeling). The most striking feature was how almost every inch of wall was covered in pictures cut out of various books, magazines and newspapers. There were pictures of ponies in various settings, from playing sports and games, eating picnics to....uh....what is that stallion doing to that teapot? All of them were interestingly circled with a big red marker, helpfully labeling them all as 'FUN'. The stallion picture was annotated with, 'The Fun hath been doubled'. On closer inspection, another wall seemed dedicated entirely to pictures of mares, particularly fashion clippings featuring various mane, tail, jewelry and dress styles. Another wall was dedicated to various modern appliances. There was a picture of a steam engine that was helpfully labelled, 'Train - Carries ponies and explodes'. Another featured a toaster similarly labelled, 'Toaster - Burns bread and explodes'. There was one of a flushable toilet labelled, 'Porcelain Throne - Fancy throne just like Tia's, also explodes'. Should I be worried that this pony is my captor? I was almost afraid to peer at her desk. At a glance it looked like a simple, almost innocent-looking desk of oak, simple and sturdy as was her bed. However on top of it was a little diorama of what looked like a grassy field with a starry background. On it was all the makings of what looked like a stargazing camp, with a few miniature telescopes and tents made of matchsticks set in a circle around a paper-origami fire. Around it were painstakingly carved and painted pony miniatures. A few I recognized instantly as the Elements of Harmony. I had to resist the urge to stick the purple unicorn on Luna's seat, horn facing upwards. Or at least I tried. Honest. Oh, okay, I didn't try as hard as I could have. I do hope Luna finds it, and soon. There was a large group of other pony miniatures around them and even a few improvised objects labelled with names. There was a cupcake labelled 'Tia', a sugarcube labelled 'Cadence', a cactus labelled 'Shining Prick-More' and a toilet brush labelled 'The Bearded'. At the centre of the circle, sitting on her rump with her forehooves held wide open in a gesture of embrace (or is it swandiving?), was a smiling miniature of what was unmistakably Luna herself. By her side was an unfinished miniature, barely the shape of a pony, labelled 'Personal Student'. I surreptitiously peeled off the label for the toilet brush and impaled it on the dark blue alicorn's horn. No permanent harm done. I'm getting better at this 'being a nice pony' thing. Practice makes perfect. The whole picture was ruined somewhat by annotations written into the cardboard grass. 'Give tickets to Wonderbolt History lecture' was written beneath the miniature for the Element of Loyalty. 'Surprise by dressing up as her' for the Element of Laughter. 'Invite to Diamond Dog fashion day in Fillydelphia next week' for the Element of Generosity. 'Give Blue Ribbon from last year's rodeo competition that she missed' for the Element of Honesty. 'Invite to natural history museum's cute critters taxidermy exhibit next month' for the Element of Kindness. Well, maladjusted as she seemed, at least she seems to plan things through. Which lends some confidence to her little scheme involving me. Speaking of, I turned to the only mirror in the room. At least there was one, even if its frame was creepily plastered with pictures of smiling mares. I looked into it. A rather sheepish-looking snow-white mare peered back out at me through big, honest eyes that radiated demure innocence. Her mane was a sleek teal-green, silky and beautiful but left unstyled and natural. Her soft hooves were clean, but its fur just a little rougher where it was entirely smooth elsewhere, suggesting a life of honest physical labour. Even her tail and the fur on her back was just a little sun-bleached, suggesting she was a mare of sunny outdoor work, not one of shadows. All in all, the ideal earth pony mare, simple, down-to-earth, rough-around-the-edges, but with natural loveliness aplenty. Perfect for an earth pony farming community. It is impressive what one could achieve when she isn't drunk out of her wits, if I do say so myself. I think I've done changelingkind's last chance some justice at least. I was so pleased I even allowed myself a little twirl to better admire my handiwork. Yes, if this were one of Luna's miniatures, she'd be labelled 'True Love'. "Decent. Considering thy latest performance, We were thinking We would have to draw thee a picture of a pony with all four hooves labelled." A voice chuckled from the door. Just how silent can she be? She's almost as good as an infiltrator. More importantly, how long has she been watching me? I couldn't help but blush a little at the embarrassing thought. "Oh, We hath had the pleasure of watching from somewhere between the preening and the prancing." The princess of the night answered my unasked question. That did not help my blushing, not that she cared. "It pleases Us to see thee take this challenge seriously." "It's not like you gave us all much of a choice." I sighed. "How long do we have to wait?" "Just the night. You shall depart for Ponyville upon the morrow." She said. "After all, We must at least grace yon wedding with Our presence." The signs were subtle, but I could just about see her muscles fidget uneasily. She bit her lip as she looked out the window through which the sounds of festivities sailed through. With some of my magic very generously restored by this very pony, I had regained my ability to sense the riotous colour, smell and taste of raw emotion. Hers at that moment was a cacophony of mud-textured uncertainty and purple-flavoured anxiety. She? The would-be frost queen of the night, anxious? What in Tartarus could possibly cause her to falter so? Then my mind went to the little diorama. A smug little smile crept across my face. Ha, so even the princess of ponies isn't such a perfect pony. It is a changeling thing not to waste any opportunities to endear ourselves to others, even if I am admittedly a little out of practice at the art. "Are you concerned about joining in the...." My mind darted to the wall behind me upon which the word 'FUN' was written very prominently, "...'fun'?" I asked. "Concern of such a nature is below Us." She huffed, seemingly a little indignant. "But..." She faltered a little, ears drooping ever so slightly. "We have missed a considerable portion of it. One cannot be fashionably late without a fashionable reason. As such, We hath given said reason considerable thought." "I see, you need an excuse to turn up late." I struggled to keep my face straight. Truthfully, she might do them a favour by not turning up at all, considering the state of her study on 'Fun'. "Well, I have nothing more interesting to do. Let me hear your ideas and I might be able to make a few suggestions." I offered. It's never amiss to try and be nice to your captor, even if you put purple-unicorn-traps on their seats behind their backs. "Right! Thou art a born liar after all!" She clapped her front hooves together in agreement. Only because honesty is a painful luxury and subversion is all that stands between us and death, but I kept that to myself. A privileged silver-spoon-fed pony like her would never understand. "Well then, how about this?" She cleared her throat theatrically. "A hydra stole Our porcelain throne and We gave chase hither and tither! Did We miss anything?" I was tempted to say 'yes', just to be able to watch the reactions from the other ponies from the window. But I was kind enough to give her an outright "No." Oh, I really am getting better at this whole 'nice pony' thing. "But you see, We hath even worked out an interesting tale of how We were sitting upon the porcelain throne when the hydra came up through..." Luna went on. "No. Just, no." I said, firmly. To save you the pain of hearing the rest, let us just say the list of possible excuses somehow managed to get worse from there, one even involving a goat and a turntable. After a lot of smooth talking and a slightly more drunken fourth encore of that purple unicorn's song, I finally managed to convince her to simplify her arrival considerably. "So We fly down and greet everypony with 'In a very casual and breezy tone, hello everypony, have I missed anything?'." Luna summarized, looking down at her hooves in obvious concentration. "Yes, except you don't say the 'casual and breezy tone' bit." I said, as patiently as a minotaur in a fire station. She crossed out something on her right front hoof with a quill gripped in her dark blue magic. "Perfection hath been attained! The breezy shall be doubled!" "Good." I said wearily. "Have...uh...fun." "We will!" She gave an excited giggle as she pranced over to the window. "Oh, and, Queen?" "Yes, Moon-butt?" I asked, raising a quizzical eyebrow. "Thank you." She said with a smile as she spread her wings open wide. Then, with a flying leap, she cleared the wide window sill and launched herself into the air on her mighty wings. The smallest hint of warmth wafted through me. It was the flavour of sweet, mature blueberry nectar, strong but soothing. I frowned, looking about for its source. Surely the spell on Shining Armour had long since broken by now? Besides, his love tasted of coconuts. Then I noticed Willow twitch in her sleep, her little hooves fidgeting as if galloping in through her dreams. Ah, it must be her dreaming, about me perhaps? I gave the matter no further thought. It had been a long day, too long perhaps, and I was more than eager to end it. Seeing as Luna had given me her room for the night, I might as well make ready for the day tomorrow. Yes, tomorrow, everything begins anew. Tomorrow shall be perfect. > ...I'd Use The Toilet Paper. All of It. > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- ~Chapter 2~ - ...I'd Use Toilet Paper. All of it. -             "Snow White." I murmured around the pencil in my mouth. "Hmm, no, that one sounds like an ill omen. Something ridiculous like an apple would probably kill me in one fell swoop." I scratched the name off the rather comprehensive list I had written on the back of the teapot stallion's picture. "And I have a feeling Ponyville will be infested with apples." I chewed on my pencil thoughtfully.  Yes, definitely dodged that changeling-divebomb. I looked at the next name. "Sugar Drops; No, sounds like I give out sweets and heart attacks all day. Winter Green; No, sounds like something an ursa would use as a potty. Sweetie Frosting; What am I, five?”         Pony names consists of slapping two nauseatingly sweet words together. It shouldn’t be this difficult!” Oh, this one sounds promising, ‘Mood Slayer’." Wait a moment. I frowned. I didn't quite remember coming up with that one. "Dive Bomb, Bug Blade, Cheese Knife, Cookie Cutter, Doom Cheddar, Bent Nail, Lady Borg, Napalm Pants, Mitten Fangs...." My frown deepened as I read out the rest of the names at the bottom of my list. I gave a little sigh. "MOON-BUTT!" I cried out in exasperation.                   "Moon Butt. Now that is a good one. We can tell thou hast experience in this." A voice said from behind me, approvingly. "This princess approves!" Just how does she do that?! Nopony sneaks up on a changeling without flooding the room in fifty two flavours of fear and trepidation! I sensed not even one iota of emotion from her sneaking up on me.                   "I'm quite sure it's already taken." I turned  from my list to glare frostily at the smug-looking alicorn peering over my withers.                   "Thou dost not approve of 'Napalm Pants'? We felt it was rather warm and endearing."                   "To Discord, maybe." I muttered. "Do you wish to know what happened last time somepony touched one my lists?"                   "Not particularly. But if We had to hazard a guess, We surmise thy list was infinitely improved by the presence of the mighty Doom Cheddar?" She said, deadpan.                   "By her blood, perhaps." I growled.                   "Yea! Thy bloodlust is impressive for 8 o'clock on this morn! Let us sate it upon something more substantial, like Our breakfast of cheese toasties in Our apartment." She gestured  at the door to her room. "If thou wouldst kindly collect thy kin, we shall feast upon this cheesy goodness and be on our merry way!" she declared, lifting a forehoof into the air as if ordering a charge to the death. "T'is a most perilous journey to Our dining table, but We have some measure of faith in thee. Do not disappoint Us," she added, before disappearing through the door.                   I gave a very enthusiastic sigh before scrunching up my list and tossing it into the overflowing waste bin, teapot-stallion and all. My muse shall have to wait to christen my masterpiece. I turned to the bed to rouse my army of one. I found young Willow squirming uncomfortably in her sleep, groaning some nonsense about the moon chasing her and sitting on her. I frowned as I recognized the telltale signs of a nightmare. "Somepony's not doing her job." I shot the door a dirty look before turning my attention back to Willow.                   Well, I might as well start doing mine. I must tend to my colony of one. But children were generally the problem of the hearth-marm, never the queen's. Where do I even start? I remember something about waking them up when they're having nightmares. How do you even wake children up? Is there some sort of button you press? Ah, right, I remember, you need to blow into their belly buttons. It is probably something akin to inflating a rubber balloon. Considering how squeaky and bouncy kindlings are, that is probably quite an apt metaphor.                   I took a nice deep breath before planting my muzzle squarely on her tummy and blowing. A surprising and very unnatural sound fit for Tartarus filled the air. But I was obviously doing something right as the little kindling jolted awake. She gave a loud squeak as she latched all four hooves onto my muzzle for dear life, babbling in some alien language of kindlings, something like 'Awawawawawawawa!'.                   I paused in my ministrations to straighten up. She somehow managed to cling onto my muzzle like a furry little limpet. I peered down my muzzle at her. Her panicked eyes finally locked with my own. "Oh, uh, um, hello, your majestiness." The little kindling gave a nervous little squeak as she hung on to my muzzle with surprising dexterity.                   "Good to see you so ready and eager to fight for our cause this early in the morning, kindling." I said, slipping into my stiff tone out of habit. How is it am I able to talk despite having a kindling clasped about my muzzle, you ask? I am a changeling queen, I can do anything.                   "S-sorry, your majestiness." She squeaked, anxiously.                   "Is there something you need to be sorry about?" I raised an eyebrow.                   "U-um, yes." She gave me a sheepish look. Very honest, this kindling. "Y-you s-scared me so much I, uh, um, had a little accident..."                   Too honest.                   As I did my best to hold my breath and keep my mouth shut while I rushed myself and the little kindling hanging precariously onto my muzzle to the bathroom, I had already begun to foresee just how perfect the day would be.                     "I asked for a little sister." I said, struggling to keep my eyebrows from twitching violently. "How is this hulking red and black alicorn my little sister?" I asked the red and black alicorn of doom and bladder accidents in the bathroom mirror before us. "What kind of parents do we have?"                   "Um, I love you lots, sis?" The red and black alicorn gave a meek little squeak, looking down at me sheepishly.                   Well, at least she's no longer the rainbow-coloured alicorn of eye-popping seizures. Let it not be said that Chrysallis cannot see the positives.                   "I'm sorry, your queenness, I keep messing up." She whimpered. Watching a mighty red and black alicorn whimpering was rather surreal, I must say.         Changelings are considered of age once they have mastered the ability to use their kindle-magic to transform. We used to strictly define this as the ability to fashion their first ‘phony’, their first pony disguise. I suppose in our desperation we have been loosening our standards and recruiting drones barely able to change their fur colour. To have stooped to recruiting a drone who couldn’t even fashion a ‘phony’, how far have we fallen?                   I suppose I could have done my duty as queen and remind her of the price of failure. But somehow my heart wasn't much in queening that morning. And I suppose if I wasn't being the queen, I might as well get in character and be the big sister pony. "It is alright, little sister." I sighed. "You were able to impersonate your queen. I am sure you will not insult her by suggesting a little sister is any more challenging. I have faith that you will only impress me."                   "R-really?" She gave a little gasp. "But, um...disguising my wings and horn is kinda tough. Especially my wings." She said with a flap of her wings.                   I gave this some thought. "A pegasus filly will do just fine then." I decided, "The asymmetry between us two shall, in fact, make us less suspicious."                   The young kindling gave a little nod. "I-I can do that." She closed her eyes in concentration as she bathed her entire body in her green flare-cocoon to complete her metamorphosis. The fiery emerald flames burned away, leaving behind a smaller, more compact travelling companion. The tiny white pegasus filly looked up at me with a watery little smile. Her big bright golden eyes looked up at me from under her soft sky-blue tresses, seeking my approval.                   Ugh.                   This is just heartburn, nothing more. I feel nothing.                   "Um, did I remember my tail?" The waiflike filly asked, trying her best to look at her own flank. "Um, tail? Tail? Where did you go?" She asked, trotting round and round chasing after her own plot in search of her elusive tail.                   I. Feel. Nothing.                   Witness my indifference!                   "Your queeness?" The little kindling paused in her pursuit of flank. "Um, wha-what are you doing?"                  "Practicing." I said, patting her mane with a forehoof in an entirely not awkward manner. "We are sisters. I aim to look the part." I am a natural at this. The little kindling was merely making uncomfortable and awkward expressions because she is not used to her role....Other than being really soft and fuzzy to pet. Not that I am enjoying playing my part. No, the goofy smile on my face is because I am that good at acting.                                  "Um, owkay." She gave a soft little blush. The little kindling had some suggestion of talent, I shall grant her that.                   There was a series of rather strange but surprisingly melodious squeaking noises. Just as I was busy looking around for the source, Willow enlightened me with an honest admission, "Um, sorry, your majestiness, that was my tummy talking." The little pegasus filly said, clutching her barrel with her forehooves.                   Ugh. Heartburn intensifying. "Willow."                   "Yes, your majestiness?" The little kindling slowly tilted her head to one side quizzically, fluffy ears twitching to attention.                   "You are secretly an A-Class infiltrator, aren't you?" There can be no other explanation. My little sister can't be this cute.                   "Um, if I am, then it's so secret even I don't know it." Willow said, looking genuinely puzzled.                   Exactly what an A-Class infiltrator would say. I rest my case. "Now, how about a name for your cover?"                   "Um," She murmured, tapping her little hoof on her chin.                   "'Um' the pegasus, descended from a long line of 'Er's." I summed up for her.                   "Um, oops?" She declared her error.                   "'Um Oops' the pegasus who, by Cloudsdale tradition, was named after the first thing her mother saw or uttered upon giving birth." I nodded, sagely. "Unfortunately for her, our mother was tragically scatter-brained."                   "I-I want to be 'Willow Wisp'." The little kindling declared with surprising conviction.                   I was ready to put it down as kindling silliness. But the fervour in her eyes spoke otherwise. She was serious.                   What's in a name? Everything to us changelings. In our colony, our HearthNest, our survival often depends on sharing what little we have. And when everyone owns everything, we truly own nothing. Often our names is the only thing we can truly call our own, a possession often jealously guarded and seldom shared. To simply give away your true name is unheard of for a changeling.                   But the child seemed determined in her folly. The queen would have bid her cease her foolishness. But the big sister argued, 'Sure, because 'Um Oops' is an excellent name for a pony.'.                   Big sister was very persuasive. Fine, let it be her error to regret.                   "If that's what you want." I huffed.                   "Th-thank you, your queenness!" She gave me a bow of gratitude.                   "That's 'big sis' from now on." I reminded her, impatiently, "Now, let's go find breakfast before Moonbutt stuffs everything up her namesake."                   "Y-yes, your maj-...um, big sis!" The little kindling's ears perked up at the mention of food.                   "Oh, actually, go on ahead, save me some cheese." I said, waving her towards the bathroom door. "I must do one more thing."                   "What is that, big sis?" The little filly asked, cocking her head to one side quizzically.                   "Hiding all of Luna's toilet paper." I said. How is this a 'nice pony' thing? Because I am a nice pony and I just did it.                   It was a lot of toilet paper.                   "But...big sis, I'm still hungry." Willow Wisp protested feebly as we trotted briskly towards Canterlot station in the early morning sunlight. Thankfully the streets were still empty with most of Canterlot still sleeping off the previous night's drunken revelry. Our hoofsteps were all that echoed across the white cobblestone streets as we trotted through the strewn confetti, flower petals and the occasional divebomb crater.                   I tried not to think of the dark stains in some of said craters. Or the lack of their source. The ponies were remarkably efficient in cleansing their streets of the more morbid reminders of yesterday's battle.                   Of course, it's her kingdom, her paradise for her little ponies. It must be absolutely perfect and immaculate. Just like her.                                              I tried to ignore the rising bitterness, instead turning my attention back to Willow who had to canter a little to keep up with me. "I am actually impressed your appetite managed to survive that." I said to her grimly, recalling the state of chaos we had barely managed to escape earlier. We had arrived in the kitchen of Moonbutt's royal apartment only to find the princess taking cover behind an upturned kitchen table. She had a wooden chair held aloft in her magic like a manticore-tamer as she fought a titanic battle against a small but deadly metallic monster spitting burning pieces of bread at her. Luna's defense and her spirited commentary upon the monster's mother and her body weight was commendable to say the least.                   By the Ancient Pyre, if horseapples could fly, this place would be an airport.                   It was a difficult decision, truly. But I had to think of poor Willow. I abandoned Moon-butt and breakfast and forged onwards, vowing to consider avenging the lunar princess one day. Such was my generous concession to being a 'nice pony' for the day.                                  Canterlot Station, like all hallmarks of pony architecture, was a construct of marble and glass with that classical roundness dominating every facet, as if every feature had to somehow pay homage to SunButt's rotund flanks. Willow flapped her little wings and soared up the steps up to the station alongside me. She suddenly froze in midair, as if stunned. Before I could ask her what was wrong, I crested the steps and reached the station's foyer to see for myself just what...                   Oh flaming ducks in Celestia's rump....                   I couldn't help but wonder, just how preoccupied does one have to be to miss all that?!                   As preoccupied as a changeling queen, obviously.                   Before us stood an entire army of fully armoured Royal Guards barricading the entrance to the station. They stood, wither to wither, shields and spears at the ready. "We have contact! One earth pony mare, white coat, cerulean mane! One pegasus filly, ridiculously cute!" A unicorn mare at the front barked into a megaphone she held aloft in her magic. "Formation Kiwi Two!"                   A pair of Royal Guard airships hovering overhead came to life, training their searchlights on us. More guards rappelled down from both the airships and the station windows, pouring out around us like ponies on cider day.                 If I were a pony, I'd be free to go wherever I want. And trouble wouldn't follow me everywhere I go.                   Luna's dream echoed in my mind, reminding me of one important fact. Well, for better or worse, I am a pony now, a good little pony. And good little ponies have nothing to fear from the Royal Guards. Well, most of the time. "I didn't know guards came in kiwi flavour." I said, looking the very picture of unfazed innocence. "Can I help you, officers?" I asked, struggling to blink out spots from the blinding spotlights.                   "You have ten seconds to prove you're not changelings!" The unicorn mare barked into her megaphone right in my face. The rest of the guards had formed a tight ring around us, weapons trained at us in the greatest (and very very short) traditions of the circular firing squad. I could taste it in the air. It was rank with fear and apprehension, almost the opposite of love, a sickeningly bitter taste.         “I’m not a changeling! Promise!” Willow cried, very very persuasively.                   Well, they got me. "What can a changeling not do that a simple little earth pony like me can?" I asked, tilting my head to one side quizzically.                   "Uh...." The unicorn mare looked around at her comrades for help. They all gave her blank looks in reply, all just as stumped as I was. "Grow something?" She suggested, earning her some dirty looks from some of the earth pony members of her unit.                   I couldn’t help but agree, that's just racist.                   Typical pony ignorance. Changeling kindle-magic can easily produce nice fertile ash for soil, provided there was any arable soil to begin with. Still....                   "Here?" I raised an eyebrow. The gathered ponies looked around at our marble and concrete surroundings, noticing our rather marked lack of arable soil. Maybe I could help this mare grow a brain instead.                   "Um, earth ponies can grow rocks, right? That's what rock farms are for, right?" The mare struggled.                   They do?                   Well, when in doubt, duck for cover in audacity. "And unicorns are pink, fluffy and dance on rainbows." I nodded, sagely, feigning irritation.                   "Hey, that's racist!" A unicorn stallion guard was quick to say, but quickly wilted under my withering glare.                   "Fine." The mare huffed, struggling to regain some composure. "Just give me your name, destination and ID."                   Oh A destination I do have; Anywhere away from here. But a name, let alone an ID? How did I overlook this when I had so thoroughly berated Willow over it?                   Uh. Hmm. I need a name, a really convincing 'nice pony' name. "I'm, uh...Doom Che-..." I almost blurted out.                   "Her name's 'Crystal Heart'." A commanding voice boomed from above. I felt a sudden gust of wind billow about as a pair of powerful wings beat at the air above us. I looked up just in time to see the morning sun blotted out by a dark winged silhouette. "And it was Us who hath sent her to Ponyville on a royal errand."                   "Y-your Majesty!" The guardsponies were quick to lower themselves into bows or curtsies. I finally squinted hard enough to make out the Moonbutt that had eclipsed the sun. I thought it was a pretty wide silhouette.                   "With all due respect and all that, your Highness..." The commander began, giving the princess a cursory curtsey, "...would you please show us your proof as per protocol?"                   The Lunar Regent gave the commander a sideways tilt of her head, as if considering her request. She then turned to me. "We were right to suspect thou had lost thy way on thy journey to Our dining table. You forgot breakfast, Crystal Heart." She said, magically levitating a dinner dish she had been carrying on her back towards me. The dish was very theatrically uncovered...                   Everypony leaned in to peer at its contents...                   ...before recoiling in abject horror. I have seen dried roots look more appetizing. Trust me, I'm a changeling, we are so desperate we have tested almost everything for edibility.                  Everything was so burnt the dish was still practically smouldering. The toast was burnt. The cheese was burnt. The tomatoes were burnt. Even the juice was burnt. It was the very antithesis to food. It was an anathema unto cuisine. It was food where all the matter had extinguished itself into antimatter. It was anti-food.                   "Your Majesty, pardon my rudeness." The commander gave the Princess a curt bow. So this was so routine that even the guards had become accustomed to it? From putting out all the fires, perhaps? I suppose it makes for excellent proof. I am certain it is a unique feat.                   "No need to seek forgiveness, commander Keen Spark." A mellow voice addressed the commander from somewhere behind us. The soldiers parted to reveal three ponies in heavy runic armour. I recognized them from my dossiers; The Vigilants, the supreme judicial branch of the Equestrian government whose unanimous vote under a state of national emergency can even suspend a princess' rule. Together, this triumvirate of ponies hold power only slightly less than the diarchy combined. I could taste them in the air; They were a sharp contrast to the sea of anxiety that was the royal guards. They were soft blue calm, with overtones of golden confidence and a touch of smug superiority.                   The Earth Pony Vigilant, Lady Gala Apple, had been away with Luna and the entire First Battalion during the invasion. They had gone off on a little wild goose chase searching for some invasion staging point in the badlands. The other, the Unicorn Vigilant, Lady Fer De Lance, had been away investigating a ruin in the northern wastes. Meanwhile, a team of my best fliers had drawn away the Pegasus Vigilant, Lord Snowy Snow, and his Skyborn Knights (He is Snowy Snow son of Frosty Frost the Frosty. His family isn’t known for their creativity.). In essence, they were a non-entity in my invasion plan.                   "You were doing your duty. Brilliantly at that." The middle Vigilant said. Her signature unicorn armour identified her as Lady Fer De Lance. "Unlike a certain somepony who left the palace during critical shutdown without even notifying a single pony, let alone bringing an escort." Her face was entirely obscured by the full-fitting helmet she wore, but I saw the slightest hint of a turn towards Luna. "Good thing her command is under suspension following that invasion. Celestia forbid some changeling take her form and give out orders using her name."                   If Luna suffered even the slightest irritation, she didn't show it. I had expected the Valiant to get her armour blown off her by the Royal Canterlot Voice. But Luna, suspended from rule? Was it because she led the entirety of the First Battalion on the fool's errand to find our colony, leaving Canterlot with nothing but reserves and the Palace Guard?                   I wonder which is worse, losing one's subjects or being cast aside by them?                   "Ahem, yes, if you are so keen to not be in the palace during this critical time, your highness, then you are in luck." The Vigilant in the pegasus armour, Lord Snowy Snow, said with a nod. "We just happen to have organized for you to be relocated to the Lunar Manor in Hollow Shades where your Honour Guard are already expecting you."                   "Remove Us from Canterlot in this time of dire need, is the snow finally truly settling in your mane, Snowy Snow?" Luna said, raising an eyebrow like a readied guillotine.                   "Beggin' yer kind pardon, we just wanna make sure we don't put all our eggs in one basket, yer princessness." The Earth Pony Valiant said in a heavily accented southern drawl. "Keep the enemy from knockin' out our entire government in one go, see?"                   "Let us return to the privacy of the palace. We must think of the Princess' dignity after all. I doubt we should let it suffer any more than it already has." Lady Fer De Lance said, "If you please, your highness." She nodded at Luna.                   Luna's impassive look could have heralded  an ice age. Knowing her age, it probably had.                   "The mare and filly?" Commander Keen Spark asked, nodding at Willow Wisp and I.                   ImANicePonyImANicePonyImANicePonyImANicePonyImANicePony!                   "Let us not detain her highness' guests needlessly. We have what we came for." Lady Fer De Lance nodded at her comrades.                   YES! I'm a nice pony! And it worked!                   "Does...something amuse you, your Highness?" The Unicorn Valiant asked, suddenly noticing the slow smile on Luna's face.                   "What doesn't?" Luna chuckled, suddenly mirthful. "Here, take this back, prithee." She magically placed the plate of ashes on Lord Snowy Snow's head.                   "What...are we to do with it?" Lady Fer De Lance asked, with a dangerous edge to her voice.                   "Finish it, wear it on your head, play frisbee with it! We careth not!" Luna giggled, charging up the magic in her horn. "We shall send thee deliciously pornographic postcards from Hollow Shades via fire magic. Expect them during office hours!" Her horn gave a bright spark and she was gone in a shower of bright blue sparkles.                   "She can't have teleported far." Lady Fer De Lance said. "Soldiers, you are all retasked to combing this city for Her Highness! Turn over every townhouse, bathhouse, whorsehouse and henhouse until you find her!"                   "Eh, if she's made her way to Hollow Shades by her lonesome, doesn't that save us trouble?" Lady Gala Apple asked, somehow managing to shrug her withers in that massive suit of armour.                   "I want to see her marched out of this city under heavy guard with every stallion, mare and foal watching every hoofstep!" Lady Fer De Lance barked. "Find her! Find her or you'll all be doing Discord Keeper duty for a year!"                   And with that the soldiers dispersed in ordered groups, even the airships, leaving Willow and I standing on a station foyer littered with rappel rope.                   "That went well." I said, once the dust had settled.                   "I-it did?" Willow whimpered, slowly peaking out from where she had taken cover in my mane. "H-how?"                   "We're nice ponies." I allowed myself a wicked grin. "And the bad pony's been grounded. This day truly shall be perfect!" I giggled, doing a happy little pony prance into the station.                     The marble colonnades and boulevards of the Royal District of Canterlot suddenly gave way to the vast cliffside of Canterlot Mountain overlooking the Golden Heartlands of Equestria. The vast miles of green and gold farmland below us stretched off until it met the endless blue of the sky. This was Equestria, a perfectly tended garden, jealously protected by the very Sun itself. Woe betide any weeds that try to eke out a living on this fertile soil. Death to any pest that even dream of even tasting its excess.                   Willow had taken to standing on her hindhooves on the carriage seat with her forehooves planted on the window sill, her nose pressed against the glass. Her little ears and tail twitched excitedly as her head panned from side to side, following some new feature on the landscape that caught her fancy.                   I, meanwhile, sat in light contemplation beside her, allowing my mind to settle into the steady rhythm of the train. Call it scheming if you wish. I had slipped up earlier today, forgetting something as simple as working out a cover name for my 'phony'. I had allowed myself to become careless and complacent. But now I am once again a lone infiltrator, a solitary flame, working the bellows alone.                   Being a changeling meant being permanently on the run. Everything from infiltrating Canterlot royalty to drawing water from the well requires an escape plan or two. A garbage chute here, a cardboard box there, that sort of thing. And knowing my luck, I half expected to end up stuck forever on a runaway train and crash into a dragon or something.                   Well, at least I tried to scheme. My mind wouldn't stop dwelling upon Luna. I hadn't realized the (physically inexistent) throne of the moon was in such a precarious political state, that the Vigilants could so easily suspend her from rule. If her situation was so tenuous, why then risk giving us a second chance? Success or failure, this would only serve to undermine her already unpopular rule. It made no tactical or strategic sense.                   'Then again, nothing about that mare makes sense,' I reminded myself. Except her choices of toilet paper, perhaps. They were quite soft and fluffy.                   "We're still going to Ponyville?" Willow's sudden question interrupted my thoughts. "But isn't the princess grounded or something?"                   "Yes. But I have given my word and I shall uphold my end of the deal." I said, gravely. "I would not be shown up by that upstart princess." You might wonder, what is the value of any promise to a creature whose existence is built on lies. You'd be surprised. It is exactly because of our nature that we value truth and honesty amongst one another. In the HearthNest being honest and truthful was the highest gesture of companionship.                   Not that I feel any sense of companionship towards Moonbutt, none at all.                   The sliding door to our compartment suddenly slid open to reveal a rather petite pegasus mare. "Excuse...me." She began, slowly, casting her large emerald green eyes about the compartment. Her long blue and white mane bobbed this way and that under the white beanie hat and flight goggles she wore. A Wonderbolt badge was lovingly pinned to one side of the hat. "Can...I sit here?" Her speech was slow, almost deliberate. Before I could say anything she had already stepped halfway into the compartment. Most of her dawn blue coat was obscured by a bright white hoodie, her dark blue saddlebags and four fuzzy white socks, but there was enough to make out her cutie mark; A...spanner stuck in a burning toaster?                   I gave her a little nod, mostly because saying 'no' would have been a lot more trouble than it was worth. Or so I thought.                   She gave me a bright smile before trotting over to the seat opposite ours. She shrugged her saddlebags off with her wings before hopping up onto the seat. She gave the soft velvet a few experimental bounces. A slow grin bloomed on her face as she grew more adventurous, bouncing on all hooves at once. "Huzzah! Oh, most bounciest of rump-rests..." She suddenly froze, realizing she had an audience of two. Well, one and half. Willow had taken cover in my mane, peeking out in fear. I don't blame her. I don't think this compartment is padded enough to house this mare.                   "Ahem..." She cleared her throat awkwardly, finally settling down. "Apologies. It is...my first time travelling by this mode of transport. That is to say, it's my first time on a train." She gave an excited little pony squee.                   At least she's earnest. You cannot fake a pony-squee. Hence why it is something beyond us changelings.                   "Sweet ring-shaped pastries?" She asked, pulling out a box of a dozen donuts helpfully labelled 'Donut Joe's' from her saddlebags. How did that even fit in there? She flipped the cover open and held it out for us.                   Willow was about to reach out a tentative hoof when I snapped said hoof with my own. "No, thank y-..." I began.                   Our empty tummies chose that very inopportune moment to answer in our stead.                   "You are certain?" The mare asked with a playful smirk.                   "Just one each then." I muttered in defeat. Oh, right, 'nice pony'. "Thank you." I gave her a forced little smile. It felt more like a grimace as my stomach gave me an impatient hunger pang.                   We ended up taking four each.                   "My name is 'Star Vigil'. I suppose my parents really wanted me to be a royal guard or something of that nature." She said after she had finished licking her hooves clean. "I suppose the name is as far as their ambitions will go. I have always been more of a toaster repair pony. Or is it a firefighter? Or both? My cutie mark isn’t very obvious.” She said, eyeing her butt accusingly.         I think it is very obvious, but then I’m a cynic at heart. “I am on my way to Ponyville to try my luck at, well, anything.” The pegasus went on. “What about you two? Are you sisters?"                   Oh dear, here it comes. The supposedly friendly travelling companion banter. "Yes." I began, suddenly realizing I was being overly cautious. This is what 'nice ponies' do all the time, after all. Sharing food and chewing the hay together with strangers is no big deal to them. "This is Willow." I said, raising my eyes up towards the filly hiding in my mane. "Say hello, Willow."                   "H-hello, Ms. S-s-star V-V-Vivivivigil." Willow squeaked.                   Star Vigil gave a little giggle. "You may call me that, if you wish. 'Vivi', that is." She said. Willow gave the teeniest nod in reply.                   "I'm..." I paused as I considered this. Well, loathe as I am to use a name she gave me, I might as well keep it up for continuity's sake. "...Crystal Heart."                   "Right, Wispy and Cryssie." Vivi gave us a nod of satisfaction.                   Wait a moment. What?                   Before I could protest, we were interrupted by a disembodied voice. It took me a moment to realize it was coming from the P.A. systems. Ponies and their newfangled gizmobobs. "Goooooood morning! Welcome aboard the 10AM Friendship Express bound for Ponyville, White Tail Woods, Las Pegasus and Applewood! The conductor will shortly be making his rounds. Please have your tickets ready for inspection." The overly cheerful voice announced.                   Ticket?                   Oh hellfire in Discord's backside, how could I forget something so simple?! After all that talk of being prepared, I make one mistake after another!                   My panic must have shown on my face. "Are you alright?" Vivi asked. No! No, I'm not alright! "Did you forget to get a ticket?" She asked, raising an eyebrow. Buck, she’s sharp!                   "Yes." I gritted my teeth. No, if they arrest us and discover we do not possess IDs, we're done and served.                   Why the buck didn't Luna give us tickets? Or better yet, IDs?! That would have been much more useful than her breakfast.                   Think, Chrysalis, think. There must be a way out. The window? No, we're going too fast. Hide? No, there aren't any cardboard boxes. Hijack the train? Some big damn heroes would stop me. What do I do?!                   "I have an idea." The pegasus said, a smirk blooming on her face. "Follow me." She gestured for us to follow her as she slid the door open. She carefully peeked outside before nodding at us, "The corridor is clear. Quickly now."                   Her tone left no room for argument. Wary as I was in following this stranger, I had little other choice. Somepony else's plan was better than no plan at all.                   "Are you coming?" She hissed from the corridor outside. I gave her an apprehensive little nod before following after her with Willow in tow. She led us to the restroom at the end of the carriage. "Get in." She whispered, nudging me and Willow inside before following us in. With a dramatic flourish she gave slammed the bolt on the lock home. "Now, be quiet. Leave the rest to me."                   It was rather cramped in the tight, wooden compartment. There was that mild tang of inaccuracy common to public bathrooms that no amount of cleaning could ever dispel. This was already a Tartarus unto itself. I swear, if I were to meet my end in such a place...         We trained our ears on the door. We heard its approach. Clip. Clop. One hoofstep. Two hoofsteps. He grew closer, closer.         And then silence.         We held our breaths. I felt the butterflies in my stomach hold their breaths.         And it came.         Knock. Knock.                   "Ticket's please." A disembodied voice from beyond the door intoned.                   They've come! They've come for us! There is no escape! We're doomed! Ticketless and doomed!                   Vivi gave me a wink and a pat on my trembling withers before turning to the door. Wait! Don't open it! Don't! You...                   She slid the door open just a crack before clearing her throat and sliding her ticket through the gap with her wing.                   "Ah, my apologies, ma'am." The voice said. The ticket was taken and quickly returned with a hole punched through its centre. "Thank you. Have a nice day." There was a clip clop of hoofsteps strolling away into the distance.                   It was the sound of freedom.                   I gave a loud sigh of relief. Willow echoed me.                   The elfin mare gave a mischievous little giggle into a forehoof, seemingly revelling in her little prank. "Oh, that was beyond priceless." She squeed.                   "Th-thank you." I said, before I could stop myself.                   "You sound like you actually meant it this time." The mare gave me a smile.                   Before I could even process this she had gestured for us to follow her again. "Come on, I think he's gone." She whispered back at us as she opened the door and led the way out.                   I took a nice deep breath as we finally stepped out into the fresh air outside. Freedom! Liberty! Fanta-...                   "Freeze, criminal scum!" A voice barked at us, chilling me to the core. "Don't think I didn't see you pull the oldest trick in the book! Fare evasion? That's a fifty bit fine. Fare evasion and fraud? They’re gonna have fun getting creative with capital punishment for that one!"                   I whirled around to face the voice's owner. My heart sank as recognition dawned upon me. She was a mint-green unicorn mare, still wearing her tattered and ruined sunflower-yellow bridesmaid gown. Her mint green and white mane was a rumpled mess, as if a timberwolf had slept in it. There were tear-stained dark rings under her bloodshot livid eyes. Odd how fearsome she looked, considering I am quite sure I had severed my charm on her.         Then the taste struck me. It was a cacophony of deep ripe shame seething with frothing flares of anger. It was an overwhelming flavour, one that burned with a vengeful fervour, the sort that suicidally sallies forth against an entire army or steals the last cupcake out of some spiteful vendetta.                   "PRC; That's Ponyville Royal Constabulary to you, buckers!" The unicorn barked, waving a Royal Guard badge in her magic. "Oh you crossed the wrong mare on the wrong hangover." She growled, menacingly, "Hooves on the ground! Horns and wings where I can see them! You have the right to shut the buck up! You have the right to write a letter to the Princess! You have the right to be taken to the ‘corner’ in one piece, more or less!" She declared as she advanced on Willow and me, brandishing a pair of bridles in her magic.                   "It was her idea!" I protested defensively, pointing a forehoof at....empty space that was conspicuously pegasus-less. Wait, where did she go?!                   "Not falling for that one." The unicorn growled, snapping the police bridle securely around my and Willow's muzzles. Willow only gave a soft little whimper in defence before the bridle was somehow fitted about her little snout. "I'll turn you both in at the station when we arrive in Ponyville. Now, wait here and don't move." She said, locking the bridles to a fire alarm lever. "One tug and I'll find out."                   "Wait, why?!" I cried in protest. This was most cruel and unusual punishment.                   The unicorn guardsmare rolled her eyes before opening the door to the restroom. "Because I was waiting to use the potty, duh."